#but what about that vine you ask? wouldn’t that attract *something* towards them?

[klausinamarink]

One Kid Gone, Another Up and Vanished (part 11)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 next: Part 12 | ao3

forcing myself to do a smaller chapter this time. Now if some of ya are still interested in this silly au, we’re back with Eddie!

When the haze finally departs from his mind, the first thing Eddie registers is Ronnie James Dio keening softly in his ears about dying young. Then he blinks his burning eyes open, an unfamiliar ceiling appearing from above through the static in his vision. 

He just stares at the ceiling, watching the spores float around in the air. Then he feels the rest of his body starting to wake up and demands movement. As Eddie slowly turns his head, the staticy vision fades in and out. He blinks again, this time figuring out his new surroundings.

He’s in a different house, laying back on a couch. This room doesn’t look like anywhere at the trailer’s or the Byers residence. There’s still a ton of vines sprawled on the walls and furniture. And there’s Will sitting at a small table next to him.

Eddie observes him for a moment. The kid is muttering quietly to himself, sketching something on paper. Their backpacks and spears are carefully placed next to the chair’s feet. There’s one stuffed handbag Eddie doesn’t remember carrying with them, but that’ll be saved for a later conversation.

Eddie opens his mouth, only to shut it when a headache suddenly spikes through his temple. He waits for it to pass, realizing how parched and ashy his mouth is. Against any better judgement, he tries to speak again. 

“Whatcha doing, Little Byers?” His voice sounds rough, just barely scraping itself out of his mouth.

Will stops murmuring, freezing in his chair. He slowly turns, his eyes looking too large for his head with the dark shadows underneath them. It takes another moment before Eddie registers the rest of Will’s appearance. With slightly sunken cheeks, cracked lips, and matted hair, he looks like a flu victim. If he listens closely, Eddie can hear Will’s lungs quietly rattling from every breath. 

Something twists in Eddie’s stomach. It’s close to nausea but he forces himself to just breathe even in the toxic air. But then he’s hyper aware of his own lungs, wheezing out air through his lips with the same rattling effort as Will’s. Another cough is tickling at the bottom of his throat. The goosebumps are still agitating his skin from the ever-cold temperatures.

They’ve been in this hell realm for days and only now did the state of their health just come to Eddie’s mind.  

Before Eddie curses himself further, Will flies out of his chair. His arms wrap tight around Eddie’s neck, almost choking him out. But Eddie stays conscious, hugging Will as tightly as he can. 

Will doesn’t say anything at all, which brings Eddie’s anxiety up. But Will is smiling at him with watery eyes when he pulls away without breaking their hold, “Are you okay?”

Eddie thinks about the vivid echoes of Wayne’s truck blazing out of the trailer park. How his useless wailing for his uncle had just made Eddie sink into whatever place in his brain that makes everything quiet and separated from his body like a marionette its strings cut off the limbs. He gives Will a small smile of his own, “I’m okay now.”

But then Will frowns, though not unkindly, “You weren’t.” 

“Little Byers-”

“You weren’t okay, Eddie.” Will’s lip is wobbling, biting into the skin hard enough that it starts bleeding. “You can’t just say you’re fine when you’re not. You can just tell me that you felt awful!”

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face. He’s both feeling angry and exhausted, the latter winning its favor. He wants to tear his throat out and let every bleeding piece show he’s feeling more than just awful. He wants to go home from this fucking nightmare and hug Wayne again. 

Walk Away’s guitar intro starts playing. Eddie tries to get the headphones off him but Will helps him with it, pausing the album. Not even Black Sabbath can scab over his new emotional pit of misery.  

Eddie doesn’t look at Will or at the ceiling or the room. Just at that black space whenever he squeezes his eyes shut. 

There’s a sniffle from Will before his weight climbs on top of Eddie. It takes a second for Eddie to catch his breath from the new pressure, but by instinct, he’s already hugging Will again.

For a while, Eddie thinks he’s really fine until Will quietly says with puffs of warm air on his bare neck, “You’re allowed to have a bad day. I promise I’m not mad at you for it.” 

If Eddie’s tightening hold and his poor attempts to choke down another sob bothers Will, he doesn’t say it. He only shuffles his position so he’s slightly curled on his side, small hands clutching onto Eddie’s.

God, Eddie doesn’t deserve this kid. 

But the last time he said something like that, it had been about Wayne and look where he is now.

Eddie dry swallows the taste of dirt-tinted salt water, starting another round of silence. Then it breaks by Will’s muffled statement, “I kinda want to punch your uncle’s knees.”  

Eddie emits a tormenting sound out of his mouth, “What?”  

Will has the audacity to shrug. “He left you. Grownups are tall so I can just punch his knees.”

Eddie stares up at the ceiling for a different reason. “Jesus H- Okay, I appreciate your willingness, but Uncle Wayne already has a knee problem. So, don’t like, hurt him.”

“Oh.” Will is quiet for another moment. Then, “I’ll hit his elbow.” 

This time, Eddie can’t hold back the laughter. It’s a wheezy sound that almost breaks his chest. But it’s the first time since he first woke up that he feels a small warmth in his chest. Could just because Will’s on top of him, trying to regenerate their body heat, but whatever. 

It’s really nice not to be alone. Even though Eddie painfully yearns for Wayne’s return.

Eventually, their giggles die down and the basement is hushed. Eddie attempts to stretch his legs out at last, but his left ankle feels weirdly sore. He tries to move it yet it stays stuck in place. With something wrapped around it.

Eddie jerks up, forcing Will off him. He immediately catches sight of one of the vines on the other end of the couch, already traveling as high as his calf.

He throws himself off, screeching as if it’ll scare the vine away. It doesn’t. His vicious kicks prompting it to squeeze tighter and tug firmly. How could’ve Eddie missed it getting him? Had it been limp on the couch until he somehow jostled it? 

Will appears at his feet, a hand outstretched to the vine. Eddie opens his mouth to yell at him to get away, remembering the last time Will tried to stab an hellish organism. But instead of a spear, Will has a Zippo lighter that he flicks open. A small flame manifests and instantly makes contact with the vine. 

It might as well have been a flamethrower because the vine makes a tiny squeeee noise and withdraws from Eddie’s ankle. He’s more quick in scooting away from the couch, taking Will with him by the collar.

They held each other with heavy breaths, staring at the vine. It’s slithering slowly on the ground but soon goes motionless. Eddie looks around the basement and at the dozens of vines on the walls, some of them barely crossing the ground. Then he remembers what Will had said about the vines being a hivemind.

Eddie takes a careful breath, gulping dry air and ashy saliva, “What say, Little Byers, exactly are we?”

Will’s probably shaking more than Eddie in his arms, but he keeps his voice strong, “M-Mike’s house. My best friend’s.” Eddie can see his hand flexing to a paler color, still holding the Zippo lighter. That he will also need to ask about later.

“Agree for a quick retract?”

Will gives a short nod and that’s all Eddie needs.

They’re quick and careful in grabbing the bags and spears, both of them eying the Eddie-Snatch Vine. It stays still but Eddie swears it twitches. There’s a few vines littering the basement stairs that Will easily jumps over. But Eddie sticks to the tiptoes, mainly because his ankle feels like it’s burning. Like something’s been imprinted onto it and he’ll roll the cuff up to find a Mind Flayer seal or whatnot.

He does his best to ignore that.

Once they’re out of the basement, the two make a run towards the front door just as it closes on the Other Side and a woman speaks.

“Nancy, just where on- oh!”

“We’re just going to be in my room, Mom.” So this is Nancy Wheeler. She sounds sullen as her voice carries up the quiet stairs, “Please leave us alone.”

“Oh, alright… But is there any reason why you’re also here, Jonathan?”

Will whirls around just at the base of the stairs. He makes a startled sound like air has been sucked into his mouth. Whatever Jonathan Byers says is too quiet for Eddie’s ears but his answer seems to satisfy Mrs. Wheeler. Their voices almost immediately fade away.

Will stares up like the stairs were the Stairway to Heaven itself. When he drags his eyes away towards Eddie, he knows exactly what they’re going to do.

This is unfair! A part of Eddie’s mind yells at him. Why did Will’s brother have to be here but not Wayne? 

Eddie mentally shuts his question down and silently answers Will’s.

As they diligently trudge up the stairs, Eddie catches Mrs. Wheeler’s muttered complaints about the lights going weird.

-

@unclewaynemunson @steves-strapcollection @hellion-child @sidekick-hero @mmmmwaffles94 @hbyrde36 @princessstevemunson @sirsnacksalot @tartarusknight @lyriclight @penny00dreadful @kodaik97 @plsdontdrinkmylavalamp @bookbinderbitch @gutterflower77 @soaringorinthopher @angeldreamsoffanfic @panicatthediaz @renaissan-vvitch @manda-panda-monium @newtstabber @little-trash-ghost @niniel-karenine @tinyplanet95

[lookismaddict]

KIN LIST?????????????????????????????????????

AHHHHHH SON!!! THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!! 😩❤️ I’LL GIVE YOU EVERY TYPE OF RAMEN DISH THAT YOU WANT. Also, KIN LIST??? MINE??? 😳

Hmmm… Well, I do have a few in mind, so here’s my Kin List:

Mary Kim: I resonate w/ her HEAVILY because her attitude, her behavior, and even the way she interacts with people (esp with Vin Jin) is literally me irl. If I’m close to ANYONE (guy/girl) irl, I’d usually be the type to tease a lot and be the “big sister” in the friend group who usually supports. And I’d be the type to throw hands if necessary, but would never initiate for no reason. Also, her FASION SENSE TOO??? I KIN. DEF KIN. Omg you guys have no idea how similar I dress like her sometimes. It’s insane. 😭

Zack Lee: I feel like his humor and mine, are similar. I just… have a feeing. Imagine, Zack reacting to a bunch of memes (probably dank, dark, and offensive memes) on his phone and he pulls out some Vine references out of nowhere. And I STG, our taste in music would be similar. Zack would definitely listen to rap music like Kanye, Travis Scott, Kid Cudi, Kendrick Lamar, etc. Even the way he dresses (usually in streetwear) is one of the clothing styles I mainly go with whenever I dress up to go outside.

Johan Seong: Typically, the way he dresses is my MAIN go-to. Mostly, BLACK CLOTHING. Like bro… Majority of my clothes consists of 95% black clothes and 5% any other color. I’m not kidding. Plus, I can imagine me and Johan just chilling and walking out in the street, and some old ladies would ask us if someone died because we’re both wearing black clothing, which is just… our usual outfit. 🧍🏽‍♀️ Also, the way he deals with people who piss him off or is annoyed by them like he doesn’t give a fuck, is such a big personality trait that I kin with. When he doesn’t like someone, then he’d REALLY show that he doesn’t like them. Same goes for me irl too. I like how he doesn’t fake his attitude towards people as well, and he’d come for them like no one’s going to stop him. I fuck with that. 🤝🏽🖤

Lua Im: Lua got a bit of fight in her too, but I like how she isn’t really the type of person to fight in the first place. Similar to Mary’s explanation, she wouldn’t resort to fighting unless she has a good reason to. I also like her personality, and how she involuntarily handles things funny and does some “dorky” things when stressed (because honestly, me too girl). I’d panic and I’d say or do the dumbest shit ever and I’d just embarrass myself even more to the point that I want to die. 💀 In addition to how I kin with Lua through her actions and personality, I really mess with her sense of fashion too. Yeah, I know she rocking the Stüssy top and that one simple style with the hoodie and the jacket over it, because I’d wear those irl. Not joking. She’d def vibe w/ streetwear too, as if she’s the female version of Zack Lee.

Vasco/Euntae Lee: Vasco’s cheerful goofiness from the older chapters is something that I can relate to. Especially when I’m out with friends, I usually act like a fool whenever I’m with them. And tbh, before I even started to simp for Gun, Vasco was my comfort character LMAO. Because he was such a cute Cinnamon Roll back then, and now? What happened…? 😭 I even see Vasco as the “fun older brother” too. Man, if he was my older brother, I’d def want to ask if I can hang out with the Burn Knuckles Crew until it’s time to go home because they’re all so fun and lively!!

Daniel Park: Even though Daniel is attractive (even in those recent chapters 👀) I view him to be the “brotherly type” who'd protect anyone. That’s the type of vibe I get from Daniel. (To be honest, between Daniel and Vasco, I think they'd be the best "big brothers" ever.) Or, just a male/guy best-friend who you can always depend on and talk to whenever you want to rant/vent about something. I kin with him because I always have the urge to help out people who are having a hard time, and I usually offer to listen to friends’ issues irl because I’m aware that we all need someone to talk. If no one’s there for them, then I don’t mind being someone’s shoulder to lean on. In addition to his kind-heartedness, I relate to Daniel because of the whole “bullying” thing. Back then when I was in elementary school, there was a girl that used to bully me by poking me, flicking me, etc. And she’d even turn people against me so I wouldn’t be able to hang out with certain people (but eventually I became friends with her and we settled our differences ig). I even asked her what was the reason why she bullied me back then and she said it was because of the way that I used to look and the clothes that I wore, which made me look “dorky”. 😀 Sooooo, that’s why I kin with Daniel strongly too LMFAAAOOOO 😌✨

[normally-alexis]

||Choked up

Pairings - Wilbur x Reader

Warnings - Heavily implied NSFW, Gore-related topics, knife kinks, spitting kink, Pain kink.

Summary - Nights before L'manburg was destroyed and Wilbur went insane you meet up with him and stay over.

Word Count: 1927

L'manburg was pretty much peaceful even though Dream and everybody else didn't want it on the server. It wasn't really bothering anybody so far even though some people, it's mainly just a place to get out of the tough rules of the smp.

You hadn't got into much trouble since you were partially on dream smp's side even though you switch sides pretty often. Whichever side would win you would switch to that side because you didn't want to pick sides you'd be a villain in either's eyes.

Hanging out with Tommy was fun even though he was three years younger than you. It wasn't weird since you both had a strong relationship with Wilbur and Philza. Philza was a father figure to all of you even though you weren't in the slightest related.

Growing up with Wilbur and Techno as best friends was pretty amazing, they taught you a few things throughout your teenage years. Philza before adopting Tommy was nicer to the three of you manly you and Techno.

Being the only female was different, you didn't have special perks as a kid, you were treated like a boy just with fewer responsibilities. Thinking back from when you were a kid towards now it was very rare for people to have kids on the smp. People just adopted children when you think about it.

Techno wasn't really in the Dream smp anymore he was with Philza somewhere out there. Tommy and Tubbo were kids and nobody really wanted them to do anything, they were still sorta young so they just joined L'manburg.

Nothing to stress about at the moment, still being one of the youngest adults of the smp gave you very few privileges. You had to take advantage of them while they lasted at the moment. Since it wasn't safe to live in L'manburg or on the Dream smp you had a bunker underground.

Why wasn't it safe? Anybody who picks sides cannot change that side, if you were on L'manburg's side you would be a big target considering you did have a private association with Dream.

You were underground sorting out some armor and some blueprints, you always have to move a lot if anybody ever saw you so why not be prepared? You kept sketching and erasing multiple times until you age up and burnt it.

The smoke was pretty bad to inhale so you move to an area where there wasn't much smoke at. It's pretty much clouding up the bunker and you start coughing, it's not that bad so you grab a potion and throw it on the burning blueprints.

It's not clouded up anymore even though you could have let it burn out. You drop your armor and weapons on the ground because you wouldn't be needing it at the moment. making your way over to your seat you sit down and look at all the notes in your notebook.

Flipping through the pages seeing if you found any notes you probably had written but most likely forgot were noted down. You stop at a page because it wasn't remembered from last time, it's a note from an anonymous person saying to come to the back of L'manburg.

You look back to see if anybody's there even though there's clearly nobody there. It must have been written early when you had left out. You push your chair out and then stand up, You take a moment and hesitate to think if you should do it or not.

It's a win and lose situation but what's life without a few risks? You leave from the seating of the area and walk over towards the ladder. Before climbing up the ladder you turn the lights off not wanting to draw any unwanted attention.

You grab onto the ladder and push yourself up placing your legs on the ladder, you climb up the ladder. Once you reach the top you push the top open and the trap door was forced open, you place one hand on the ground and place another hand on the ground.

You push yourself up and get on the top of the surface part of the ground. You take a small breathe and close the top. You push yourself up from off of the ground, you knew where L'manburg was since it was a pretty often visit.

You move throughout all the leaves and in vines, it's pretty normal to walk through it all. A few thoughts crossed your mind thinking about it, Dream wouldn't try contacting you that way he'd just catch you in the middle of the Dream smp and pull you to the side.

Thinking about meeting in L'manburg it would only be Tommy, Tubbo, Wilbur, Eret, Fundy, or Niki. It's not really Important who invited you but you really did want to know. You walk over to the area of the Dream smp and pass Tommy's house. It's pretty abandoned but you didn't bother starring at it too long.

You walk past it and walk towards the bridge that usually leads to L'manburg, you stop for a moment and hear a singing noise. It's not anywhere in sight per say but it's loud enough to hear. It's within the walls beside you and you put your ear on the wall.

It's more of a humming sound, you remove your ear from the wall and roam your hands along it. You hit a button along the wall not surprised but the wall opens up and the humming is more clear.

You enter inside of the cobblestone room not really expecting anything. The floor made a little sound when you entered inside of the room. You look on the ground and there's a few blood clots on the floor and some guts along with it.

You cover your mouth backing yourself backing into the corner. You sorta had a dislike of blood, not Hemophobia but it wasn't your favorite to be in a room filled with something dead. You look up and see Wilbur finishing cutting something up.

He already heard you since you had entered the room. He turns around and removes his gloves which were stained with blood. It's not a human thankfully but it's a dead animal, still very uncomfortable in this situation.

Wilbur looks up at you not very surprised  up at the moment, " What's wrong?" The whole display itself was wrong. You uncover your mouth smelling all the disgusting rotting corpses, "You're killing animals and letting them rot," How is he not disgusted? You roam around the room seeing more dead animals.

Wilbur tries explaining himself while coming towards you, but you get very distracted by all the blood splatter on the ground and much more graphic stuff. You weren't looking at him meaning that he knew your attention wasn't on his apology.

He grabs your hair and tugs on it making you shift your attention at him. Pulling and tugging on your hair really hurt because it's like being forced by Wilbur. As tough as you seemed whenever you had armor on being without armor is a completely different story.

"What's wrong tell me, you had a lot of nerve coming from somebody who would fuck literally anybody attractive enough," It's very weak of you to get degraded by somebody who doesn't even know how to defend himself.

"Or anybody who even found you attractive," You knew your worth but whenever somebody tells you something about criticizing yourself you'd just believe it and fix yourself. Was he right? You can't answer that yourself.

You had gone pretty silent and it causes Wilbur to get more aggressive with you. He knees your in your stomach not damaging your internal organs but it just made you feel weak and you tremble on your knees.

You grip onto your stomach squeezing it together, He's treating you like complete shit. He stops kneeing you and he pinches your cheek practically teasing you. You weren't even supposed to be meeting Wilbur at the moment.

Responding would get you in trouble and not responding would get you in more trouble. He's very agitated at the moment and he grabs the pocket knife from his pocket putting it towards your thigh.

"Can I Carve our Initials on your thigh," He asks you, You weren't too fond of punishment but you did like the attention being craved. You nod your head slightly and he removes his hand from your hair.

He grabs onto your thigh and you fall down stinging your back. He slowly starts carving your initials on your thigh, you don't make the loud noises you want to because he'll just end up cursing you out.

You wanted to curse so badly even though you liked it when he inflicted the pain, But why was it only acceptable when he did it. He was only done carving the 'W' halfway, you flinch and he messes up.

It a swerved 'W' and it looks very crossed out, He's upset with you and gets up from squatting. You try communicating with him, "Wilbur?" He's not necessarily listening to blocking out the thoughts.

He puts his foot in between your legs pushing it further near your shorts, His shoes against your clit. You can't tell what his original thoughts are, before you can even react he kicks you in your side. You fall on your face gripping onto your lower half, it's like a period without the loose blood clots.

He squats down and grabs onto your hair pulling you up making you look up at him, "Such a slut aren't you darling?" He spits on your face and it drips off of your face on the ground, is this really who you were such a despite slut that you would let a man do this to you?

Most definitely, you try smiling at him but it's a half-smile since you were in pain. "You holding up good slut?" He asks while looking you in your eyes, you nod as a response and try getting off of your sides.

You weren't damaged that badly you could always heal from it... He lets go of your hair once you were stable enough to stay on your knees. He takes his belt off and takes his pants down, he places the belt around your neck and ties it.

He takes his boxers off and grabs his dick which was already erected due to sadism. "C'mon slut, suck," He tugs on the end of the belt and you put your mouth on his dick, following rules in such a bad position in your life. Never would you have thought you would be sucking off Wilbur..

You take it slow at first not wanting to rush it since you weren't experienced as much, you mainly focus on the tip of his cock and rub your tongue over and over on his slit. Whenever he feels like he would release something he tugged on the belt making you gag on him.

It was hard to take him and focus on not being choked up by his belt, He's not the strongest of keeping his moans in. He climaxes inside of your mouth and some gets on your cheek, He wipes the semen off of your face.

"Is this okay darling?" he kisses your cheek and helps you clean yourself up, at least he did aftercare..

[crystalcow]

Hello!

I just read your Sapnap’s child Reader and was wondering if you could do a ‘what if’ scenario/reaction where reader got corrupted by The Egg? I won’t be forcing you, this was just something that has been lurking in my brain for quite a while!

𝑅𝑒𝑑 𝐷𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑙//𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑

Masterlist

Egg x reader //bad/puffy// !p !child reader

Pronouns used: they/them

Warnings: blood, death, egg, corruption

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“Bad where are we going?” The teenager asked as the two went down the crooked stairway. Normally they wouldn’t question bad, he was the most trustworthy person on the server! Someone they adored while growing up, who gave them little bakery treats every visit.

But this wasn’t him. No, this person had a pure white cloak with scathing white eyes. Even the smallest touch made you shiver and cower, your brain begging you to run as far as you could.

“Trust me my muffin, you’ll love this.” A visit to the smp land couldn’t hurt, right? Getting away from shroom town, the sweet aura and overbearing fathersA day to where they could relax at the bakery, play around with Micheal with Tommy.

They hadn’t expected to get rampaged by Punz, forcing them to meet bad near this weird staircase. “Just a little further.. Be careful! Don’t want you missing any steps.”

He led them into this adorning strange red room. There were vines hanging off the ceiling, crimson moss everywhere you stepped. Magma and lava sprawled around, as if the nether had crossed over into this very room.

“What is this?” Their head shot over to the man as they traced around the weird boulders. Looking ahead in the corner of this strange territory sat a large red egg like shape, everything about this place giving them bad vibes.

All that were racing through their mind was ‘run’, but something kept them standing exactly where they are. It was like an attraction dragging them closer and closer, an addicting feeling that they couldn’t hold back from.

ጎ ርልክ ኗጎሀቿ ሃዐሁዪ ዕቿቿየቿነፕ ዕቿነጎዪቿነ

I can give your deepest desires

ጋሁነፕ ዘቿረየ ጠቿ

Just help me

The voice continued to ring through their head drawing them closer, placing a hand and drawing it over the crimson egg. The vines felt as if they were encaptivating them, a surge running through them.

“Accept the Egg, Y/n.. There’s nothing to be afraid of! It can help you.”

In a sudden, everything went dark and a feeling of nesaue came washing over the young teenager.

They woke up in a haze, breath heavy as they sat up covered in a pile of vines. “Y/n? There you are, your awake.” Bad carefully walked towards them.

“It went dark! It-it felt as if someone was choking me.. and these voices were pounding!”

He soothingly traced over their back, calming the teenager bringing them closer to his chest. He used them as if it were a puppet on a string, not even considering the feelings of said child whom continued to weep in his arms.

“What did the egg tell you N/n?” He asked begging for the answer, dawning to make this process grow faster. A crimson colored set laying down in the corner, ready for them tonight.

“It wants blood bad.. A fire that I may only start.” Words started piling out of Y/ns mouth, their words not connecting to the screaming voice in their head. “It shall happen tonight! The banquet I informed you of.”

Their head perked up, a small smirk forming upon their face as he informed them of the plan. It felt dawnful to corrupt such a young being, one he had cared for and called a grandchild.

Yet this is how it’s been deemed

Its all for skeppy right? To get the love of his life back into his arms, the only friend he could every call for love. We do the craziest things for the people we care about, is what he continuously told himself.

As the hours passed by the preparations for the banquet have been set. Corsets had been tied and suits were polished and attired. Going around the room greeting everyone and catching up.

Things almost seemed perfect.

Bad and the rest of the egglings deemed them perfect for the job! Dear prime they were a natural at this, a saddened thing if you look further into it.

But the lava soon cascaded down, leaving the group stuck within its walls. The chests full of daggers and pre prepared armor previously cleared out, gasps were spread throughout the room.

“Not my son! Bad step away from foolish.” Puffy cried as the shark hybrid stood chained to the podium, feet sunk within bound to the floor.

Yet it has been done, as blood pooled out the body soon disintegrating. Somehow as techno and Quackity shortly arrived, the teenager was held dagger at throat. Tears cascaded down their tears as the knife slowly seeped in.

“I swear bad if you hurt anyone else I will slash their throat.” Puffy shouted, her voice seethed with pain as this violent act stand against everything she believes in. A friend, a child at her will.

“Do it.” Shock ran within the room as the painful words struck them all, and soon enough it all went blank. The only thing left to hear were the pleads of forgiveness.

𝐘/𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐏𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲

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Taglist:

@creatorofstars @georgenctfound @samistheidiot @smolbox-png @ghostlysenses @stellarinstigator @bobaducky @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @uwucorpse @chaoticotaku

It’s been a while! I’m so sorry it took so long :(( god I’ve been blocked on writing this for so long until now

As always! Ask or request anything! And ask if you want to be on a taglist

[totiredtowrite]

I love how everyones just agreed that daishou is a naga in a fantasy au

Snake

Warnings - cursing, unedited

Note: He could strangle me and I'd apologize. Also tf is his eye colour???

Male Reader - Fem Readers DNI or you're a horrible person who disrespects boundaries of writers :)

You had one job.

All you had to do was pick something up from the market. Your village healer only needed like ten things! Of course you just had to be the nice guy and get it for her.

Still though it was rather rewarding. She was a nice old lady, anyone in the village would do things to help her out. You sighed, furrowing your brows angrily. You should have just let Hanamaki do it. After all, he was the navigator. He'd done it before. He wouldn't get turned around at the simplest fork in the path!

With another heavy sigh, you pulled yourself off of the forest floor. No point in sitting about, right? The place was beautiful, even if it was a little too close to the swamps for your liking.

It's not like the naga and the elves hated each other. No, they were more just...wary. Existing so near to one another made sure that both always knew what the other was up to. You weren't exactly neighbours, (being almost a mile away), but there weren't any other villages in the area. Or, in the snakes case, nests.

Not to mention how the peace treaty kept them at a distance. Most of the younger elves in your village have never seen a Naga. You included. Not that you were that young, though you never had a reason. Training with Oikawa and the rest of the fighters in the village took up most of your time anyway.

Speaking of, you were starting to be thankful that Oikawa makes you train so hard. The walk was starting to near a couple hours.

You rubbed your face. This was bullshit. And how did you even get lost so bad you ended up in the swamps? Well, the outskirts of the swamps, but it still counts. The trees were starting to droop more, vines hanging off of every other one. You stepped in a puddle occasionally, cursing every time you did.

On the bright side, (at least), you knew now to walk in the opposite direction to get home.

You will walk in the opposite direction.

The...opposite...direction.

Or not.

What was the worst that could happen? You were already about two miles away from the market, and there were things in the swamps that you needed. You only had to go a couple yards in, it's not like you were going to wander straight into the heart of the nest.

You drew in a controlled breath. Naga don't typically take strolls along the outside of their nest anyways.

Taking another step in, you started to calm down. The only sounds you could hear were the birds and your own footsteps. The sound every time your boot collided with the ground was rather disgusting, the dampened landscape getting progressively wetter.

You were a couple minutes in, (still not having found the plant you needed), when you heard it.

Even never coming face to face with one, the sound was unmistakable. The only accurate word you could think of was slithering. Like a giant snake making it's way through the swamp.

You froze up instinctively, long, pointed ears twitching to try and catch the sound again. Nothing but your own laboured breathing.

Slowly, after a minute of a whole lot of nothing, your hand creeped towards the dagger in your boot. You knew it was just a supplies run, but better safe than sorry right? Maybe the Naga passed by already.

If you'd turned your head even slightly though, maybe you wouldn't have missed the pair of glowing green eyes watching you.

And maybe you wouldn't be in this position right now.

You couldn't describe how it happened because you weren't even sure how it happened. He moved surprisingly fast for how cumbersome that giant tail must be. Your dagger had clattered to the ground, the murky green blue of his tail coiled around your body.

"Well," his eyes still seemed to glow at you, "What's an elf doing all the way out here?"

You snapped out of your momentary entrancement to actually take in the situation. His eyes, slanted like all Naga, took in every little movement. He actually seemed relatively put together, hair looking tame and neatly parted to one side. His face was rather cut and slim, cheekbones sharp and pronounced. Hell, if he wasn't a Naga he'd still look like a snake.

His tail tightened around you slightly, urging you to answer the question. You sputtered a bit at it. "Well I could ask the same! Your kind don't wander the outskirts like this!" You attempted to sound commanding, hiding the discomfort in your voice.

Luckily he didn't pick up on the fear in your tone, instead giving you a harsh glare and momentarily squeezing you. You let out another harsh breath. "Well at least I'm on my territory."

You were about to retaliate, but you fell short. He was right in a sense. No words were exchanged for a moment. The snake leaned in further narrowing his eyes further, (if that was even possible), and studying your features. "So it's true then?" He finally said something.

You regarded him with confusion.

"About your kind," he poked at the satchel that you'd also dropped. "They're all pretty."

You blanked. You were about to comment on the fact that 'ruggedly handsome' might be a better term, but ultimately decided against it. All elves, regardless of shape or size, gender or skin tone, were ultimately just...better, in a sense. Stronger, faster, they lived longer, and, as he said, prettier.

"Have you never seen an elf before," You sneered instead.

"Have you never seen a Naga?" He shot back quickly, head tilting slightly. Seeming more comfortable, he had a sly smirk on his face.

You didn't respond.

He laughed almost tauntingly. "Dont look so confident elf," he leaned in closer, to the point where you could feel his breath on your lips. "What makes you think I won't wring," you felt his tail shifting, "You," it got tighter, "Dry?"

You attempted to scoff, the sound being cut short at the pressure on your chest. "And-" you took in a breath, "And break the peace treaty? No way," you let out a raspy laugh.

He let something else take up his attention. His hands lifted to your ears, long, slender fingers trailing along them and prodding at the pointed tips. You shuddered. His hands were cold. Unsurprising of course, but still catching you off guard.

"Would you cut that out! Just tell me your name and let me go!" You snapped.

"Someones impatient," he, quite literally, hissed. In all honesty, listening to him speak was somewhat addicting. You'd thought it was just a stereotype, how half snake people always dragged out the 'S' in the words they say. As it turns out you were wrong.

"Okay, let's just keep this civil." You exhaled slowly. "My name is (l/n) (y/n), I'm trying to find something for my village medic. Who are you?"

He eyes you suspiciously before responding. "Daishou. I'm just...patrolling."

You nodded, pushing your arms out slightly. You were still wrapped in his tail.

Sending your discomfort, Daishou loosened his grip. The sound of his tails grip going slack following soon after his realization. You sighed with relief, slumping to the ground as he repositioned himself to face you.

It took you a moment to look up.

"What are you looking at," he hissed at you.

In truth, everything. His scales were brighter than you thought Naga usually were, green blue and muted yellow. "Nothing," you said, mouth still agape.

"Right." He clearly sounded unconvinced, though he decided not to pursue the matter any further.

You had to admit to yourself, he was rather attractive too. He gave you another look at your continued staring. "What were you even here for anyways?" He slithered closer.

"Just- uh," you stuttered slightly. The tail made him look more dangerous than he most likely was. Or not, he might be just as dangerous as you thought. "I...forgot."

He couldn't stay composed, snickering at you.

"What?" You huffed and stood up, pulling your satchel over your shoulder once more.

"Nothing," he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, face going red. "Get back safely okay?"

You, confused at his little bout of care, nodded. "Okay."

You turned around, though just before you walked off he stopped you. "Oh, and elf."

You turned once more. "Hm?"

"Try to stay aware next time," he opened your palm and placed your dagger in it, another sly smile making its was onto his face.

"We wouldn't want another snake to catch you."

[all-about-seggs]

Sultry Blues-

Rating: ❌18+, Explicit❌

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Insecure! Fem Reader

Word count: 2.5 k

Warnings: Trigger warning for insecurities (not specified), Body Worshipping, a bit of food play, cunnilingus, Semi-public sex.

The faint sounds of ringing bells from the shrine was still in the air as you made your way to the inner structure of the prestigious Jujutsu academy. The path to the meeting room was straight and lined with stone carvings which gave the entire place an ancient look. You had a lunchtime date with your boyfriend, who would, hopefully be on time so you could be on your way.

This place always made you uneasy, not because of the dangerous connotations it brought in everyone’s lives but it was the people who freaked you out the most. To you, each one of the teachers as well as the students looked like some characters straight from a book, elegant, strong and perfectly capable of doing things normal people like you could only read about. Not having enough confidence on yourself physically or mentally worsened every time it dawned on you that you were dating the most perfect being of them all.

Perplexing wouldn’t even began to describe your state of mind when Satoru first took interest in you, sure looks or status didn’t meant anything to him but even in terms of personality you never thought the two of you would get along, so much so that you would become such an irreplaceable part of each other. But you knew his feelings for you did nothing to stop the ache in your heart when you saw him getting ganged up on by a bunch of women. Women attractive than you, smarter than you and definitely stronger than you.

This was exactly the place where all those kind of women lived making you feel even more of an outsider in his world. Not wanting to cause Satoru any worries you tried to psyche yourself up by picking up your pace only to be met with a hard shoulder to your cheek.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t looking”, you looked up at the stranger, she was tall, her sturdy figure seemed like she was also a sorcerer but her ID pass was tucked on the breast pocket of her coat along with her youthful face indicated she was a student, you squinted to see that her name was Lisa and as you were about to apologise when you saw her sneer at you.

“ Ugh… outsiders. Don’t you know how to walk properly? Or did you not learn that in your no name school?”, her condescending tone took you aback.

You knew you didn’t exactly belong here but she wasn’t cutting you any slack for being a civilian either. You wanted to ask her why was she being so rude but your queries were cut off as by the girl.

“ No need to explain yourself I already know who you are, I’ve seen you following Gojo- San like a lost puppy a lot of times, seriously it’s like you don’t even have a presence without him.”, with a pause you finally thought her pointless berating would come to a stop but she went on.

“ He has a reputation to uphold here so don’t go around embarrassing him with your airheaded and average looking face”, now with THAT she crossed the line but as much as you wanted to give her a comeback all you anger turned into self loathing in a matter of seconds and you stood there dumbly not being able to defend yourself from the onslaught of verbal attacks that even you partially agreed with.

Not even bothering to look at her when she passed you thought about her mean words that were half untrue. You knew dating a popular guy would include more that just a little bit harmless envy of girls. At this point you’d be lucky if you didn’t get attacked by one of your boyfriend’s fangirl. But, It wasn’t about Satoru anymore, you thought. It was about how you were letting the jealousy of his superficial admirers who didn’t even knew only knew his name and face. Before you could delve more into your darkening thoughts you heard a cheery voice call out to you.

Bag at hand, which probably contained some sort of dessert you saw Satoru gleefully making his way towards you. It took you a few seconds to plaster a believable smile to your face so you could greet him normally.

“ Wow I can’t believe IM the one who had to wait around this time”, placing a tiny kiss on your nose he pulled you in for a hug, his warmth seeping into you put your mind at ease and help you distract yourself from the horrible encounter before.

“ The meeting was pointless and even the snacks turned out to be lame”, whining a little he waved the bag in front of you. A convenient store vanilla sponge cake with a packet of strawberry sauce was right in front of you and honestly if it were you, you’d probably eat it without question but knowing his love for quality sweets it was understandable why he’d complain.

“ Well actually, with the right toppings and modifications even convenient store packed cakes can taste top class!”, thinking about all the ways you’ve experimented watching diy food videos you started thinking up of ways to serve it to him.

“I see, that’s a good idea and I think it’ll give us some headstart for our date wouldn’t it?”, saying that he gestured you towards one of the buildings that lead to the back exit.

Walking hand in hand Satoru came to a stop which seemed like a closed off gate that was not in use anymore.

“ Why are we here? I thought the back exit was the other way around?”, confusion painted over you face you turned to face your mischievous partner.

“ you said you’d help me eat them, and I think it’s a pretty good place, don’t you?”, stepping closer he urged you to take a look around. The area didn’t have any benches, buildings or even people around and the only sound you could hear was the birds and the small artificial streams of river that flowed a few steps away from the closed off exit.

If Satoru was insinuating something you started to get the hang of it and you soon felt you face get hotter. The afternoon sun did nothing to help you cool down as you struggled to make sense of the situation. His hands were all over your body, caressing, pinching and feeling you up.

“ What’s wrong? Not up for it in semi public style?”, his breathy voice got lost in the crook of you neck where he inhaled your scent, “ you know nobody’s gonna come” with a slight push, he pinned you againt the vine-covered gate, “Except for you”.

“what the- WAIT! It’s still so bright out here not to mention we’re in PUBLIC Satoru!”, wide eyed you try to grab at his hand that was halfway done unbuttoning the top of your blouse.

“Do you want me to blindfold you?”, throwing these words nonchalantly he started licking every bit of exposed skin he could find from your ears to chest.

His mouth made contact with your covered breasts and without bothering to remove the piece of clothing he latched his mouth onto your hardened nipple to give it a gentle bite. Holding back your own moans you placed you hands on his broad shoulders, a feeble attempt at stopping him.

“How would THAT resolve anything?!” already half naked, your retorts seemed like pathetic excuses even to your own ears. It wasn’t until you heard a sharp rip that you realised your underwear was no longer on your body anymore. With a horrified look you saw your unusable underwear in Satoru’s hand.

“ I don’t think you’ll be needing these anymore my sweetness because I want to see ALL of you”, dangling the fabric from his long fingers he made a show of tucking it in his pocket. Hiking your skirt up with one hand he caressed the soft flesh with his thumbs.

“I knew you had no sense of danger but this could even get us arrested”, your reasoning seemed to fell on deaf ears as your boyfriend, already half way down on the ground, pulled his blindfold down with ease. Looking at up at you with his ethereal turquoise eyes that lied beneath strips of heavy white eyelashes, this part of his face was something you couldn’t see all the time.

“You’re beautiful……”, the genuine nature of his words felt unreal when compared to his everyday frivolous self, “at least I’ve always thought so”.

All the voices in the place except for his, got drowned out by the throbbing of your heart in your chest when he kneeled right in front of your crotch. The warm smile on his lips contradicted with his tantalizing actions but he enjoyed it precisely because of that.

“Open your legs a bit more y/n, I need more space to eat”, with his haughty smirk back he exposed more of your pussy with his fingers and dribbled the strawberry sauce over it until it started trickling down to the ground underneath it.

“This looks like a good dessert, waaay better than the one I was offered before”, making one last smartass comment he threw the now empty packet away and your sugar coated pussy was soon met with Satoru’s soft, warm tongue as he buries his face in it. His tongue worked it’s way beneath the layer of your pussy hair and down to the soft flabby skin underneath. Your natural slick combined with the dressing sauce tasted even sweeter in his mouth, the pleasant hums falling uncontrollably from his mouth made you wetter.

All the blemishes, scars and your self imposed flaws started melting into something more complete and unbreakable in its nature when you felt Satoru touching you, feeling you and tasting you from the inside and out.

His warm hands firmly gripped your thighs to lap at the soft peak in between. All the sensations his tongue was providing you made your vision turn black and your body heated up to the point of burning. The broad daylight and your exposed form added to the fear of being found out but your trust in your boyfriend outweighed everything so you let him have his way.

“ Hmmm, yeah y/n…”, the exaggeratingly loud slurping of his mouth came to a stop as he looked up at you, his pink lips glistening even more when he spoke, “Even this cheap stuff tastes better when I eat it directly from you”.

You were a panting mess, already having lost the ability to make coherent words you kept you eyes on Satoru as rose to his feet.

“ Let’s move on to the next part shall we?”, after smoothening out your skirt of you he held out his hand and your need for release took over all rhyme and reason so you put one of your shaking hand in his. The next few moments were confusing as a white light enveloped both of your forms and by the time your vision returned you found yourself in an unknown room.

The place itself was nothing out of the ordinary, some books, a cupboard and a vanity. The single bed near the curtained window was properly made. It was clearly not Satoru’s room but the neatness of the place also suggested that it wasn’t an unused room either.

“ Hey we’re are we?”, you question the white haired male when he casually made his way to switch on the lights.

“Don’t worry we’re still in the academy premises, you wanted to finish this right? And I didn’t wanted to go another second with hearing your pretty voice, so you can scream now,” his voice dangerously low, he held your arms in both of his hands and guided you to the single bed in the corner.

“ and I didn’t meant that as a request”, flat on your back you had no time for further questioning as your exposed cunt got filled to the brim in a single thrust. The stretch made you cry out and remembering Satoru’s previous warning you didn’t bother covering your mouth. The light in the room was enough for him to see all of you, even if he had all of you memorized at the back of since the first time.

Your twisted face that you’d consider ugly was nothing if not arousing to him from the kneeling position of his at the edge of the bed, endearing even at how the side of your eyes well up everytime he fucked you so hard, the creaking of the bed acted as a proof of his brutal pace that threatened to break the furniture.

Each powerful thrust of his made your entire body lurch from its position, your juices flowed endlessly down your thighs, on Satoru’s cock and down to the sheets. Your voice ricocheted off the walls and gave life to the entire building.

Having your orgasm cut off before, the anticipation that had build up made your upcoming release feel even ore intense. Your walls started clenching around his shaft, already feeling waves of ecstasy you waited for it to reach its peak.

“ Y/n...Come for me”, in between his grunts he placed on of his hand on the side of your head, lowering himself till your noses touched. Breaths intermingling, you came with a loud cry of his name. Euphoria spreaded through both of your bodies making a gush of liquid come out of your pussy when Satoru pulled out, both of your mess soiled the sheet.

Few minutes of silence passed by as a fully clothed Satoru sat beside you, stroking your head until you calmed down.

“ Hey y/n?”, abruptly his cheeky tone filled the room and you looked up at him questioningly,

“ Wanna take a pic? ya'know, as a momento”, the odd question made you come to an obvious conclusion, which now seemed obvious considering your boyfriend’s not so secret rebellious nature and with how much of a brat he can be it was nothing short of hilarious.

“ It’s Lisa’s room isn’t it?”, barely controlling your laughter you tried to pry an answer out of him, the soothing motion of his hands never coming to a stop he took out his phone with another.

“ Yeah, it is, I’d say it’s an excellent way of showing her our ‘bond’ dontcha think?”, his cringey answer made you burst into laughter. The first real smile he’d seen on your face since you got here was something Satoru wanted to be a constant thing, always there when he wanted to see it just like a still photograph.

Bending his face down his lips softly met your forehead and before you could open your eyes back up you heard the click of the camera go off.

“ Heh, so how is it?”, propping yourself up on your elbows you tried to peak at the screen but it was pulled out of sight just as quickly.

“ It’s perfect”, with a warm smile that reached all the way to his eyes Satoru put his phone down before peering into your eyes, “and it’s mine”.

[secretshinigami]

Meet you under the sun

Author: @lightlessons For: @danthegeek Pairings/Characters: Light Yagami/L Lawliet, Misa Amane, Kiyomi Takada. Rating/Warnings: M. Mature language, Swear words, Alcohol consumption.  Prompt: AU Light is a popular Collage Student and invited to a beach party. He is having a lot of fun, is flirty and arrogant as we know him. He is dancing with Misa, who is not his girlfriend but has a crush on him. Then, L joins the party, somebody brought him along. He is chilling awkwardly by the buffet when Light takes notice of him and joins him at the buffet. He has seen him before a couple times on the campus, but never talked to him. What happens next is up to you…

Author’s notes: I bent the specifics a bit in that I had Light talk to L  just a bit after seeing him instead of immediately, because i felt it fit the pacing I had better. Hope it’s still okay though :-) 

—————————–

“Don’t tell me you’re a Beach Volleyball junior champion too,” Takada joked after Light obliterated (yet again) a team of what appeared to be sociology majors, or something equally pointless, she had that small, half-hearted smile that was so characteristic of hers but with the slight frown of someone who isn’t used to being impressed.

Light laughed humbly. 

“I’m not. Maybe my experience with tennis helps somewhat? But I’ve really never played it before.”

His classmate sighed, and Light thought that being constantly made aware of his numerous skills had to be tiring for her. “You must be just naturally talented then,” she supposed as she fixed her hair behind her ear in a strange bashful gesture that must mean she was finally surrendering over to Light’s natural charm, as one would expect. 

“Or those two are just awful,” Light smirked conspiratorially. 

The young bourgeois laughed, which was what Light was hoping to achieve. Takada always enjoyed laughing at other people’s expense.

Light wasn’t much of a fan of the beach. There was too much sand getting into bad places and too many people acting as if the transition from monkey to hominid had never been made. Too much noise and too much sun and too many girls asking him to slather them with sun blocker, as if he’d pop a boner over touching their skinny naked backs. But, if there was something he’d learned from a very young age was the importance of having good public relations, and so when Kiyomi Takada had invited him to an exclusive beach party, he knew he wouldn’t say no to the daughter of the Sankei Newspaper’s owner. He’d gone into To-Doh not just looking for a quality education after all but in the hope of forming good connections too. 

And this party, filled with Tokyo’s most important youth, was a perfect opportunity to start rubbing shoulders. Light was young and attractive and athletic, perfectly composed to be like a bug zapper for these kinds of things. 

Plus, the lively music and the three margaritas he’d already had were kinda getting to him. 

“LIIIIIIIIGHT!!!” A familiar voice suddenly screeched from somewhere behind him. 

Oh dear God. 

Five feet of blond supermodel darted towards him through the small crowd of spectators that had formed for the match. Misa Amane, bimbo extraordinaire, had finally shown up to the party in all her unbridled glory. 

“Oh, that was so cool! You’re always so cool, Light,” she proclaimed with shiny eyes while all the other men around and some of the women ogled her in her small two-piece red bikini with a blackthorns and vines pattern, as characteristic of the gothic style she favored. 

Now, Light didn’t dislike Misa. She was cute in a very whiny-cat kind of way. Sort of endearing at first but jarring as the volume increased and the minutes went on. The first time they met she’d claimed she felt a cosmological affinity towards him or some such bullshit and then proceeded to interrogate him for his zodiac, moon, and rising sign, whatever the hell that meant–he hadn’t been paying attention. She was useful, though, in that she was somewhat famous and happily willing to do him any favors, or connect him with any of her large contact lists, even when he’d already been clear about not being interested in any non-friendly relation with her (using the hardships that came to celebrities’ partners as an excuse), he was a gentleman, after all, and he wouldn’t toy with a woman’s feelings. 

“Hey Misa,” Light gave her an easy smile that would hopefully settle her for the rest of the day. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere for the past week! Where have you been hiding? Not with Kiyomi, I hope!”

Takada at his side made an affronted sound that seemed to choke on the way up her throat. 

“Behave, Misa. I’ve told you I’m not your property,” Light belittled her with only mild sternness. 

Misa shook her head enthusiastically. 

“Misa is only teasing, Light! She promises! Besides, Kiyomi and I have started getting along since Spanish class. Haven’t we, Kiyomi?" 

Kiyomi seemed startled for a moment, as if she didn’t expect Misa to call her out like that, but recovered quickly to settle her face into her usual cold mask of indifference. 

“I suppose so.” 

“Aw, don’t be like that. We even planned a fake trip to Playa del Carmen together! Oh, Light, you should join us!” 

“I’m taking Korean.” 

“Not in class, silly, on the trip!” 

"Right… then I happen to be busy around that time of year,” he joked, throwing a smirk at Takada and earning the most formal of snorts he’d heard. 

"Miss Amane does have a fondness for fantasizing,” Takada replied instead, like a ready viper waiting for the perfect moment to strike at her victims. Oh, there’s no need to be mean with her, Kiyomi. 

The implications seemed to get lost on the blonde, however. 

“Pfft, you’re no fun. I’ll borrow him for a bit, Kiyomi. Clearly he needs a little loosening up, and you’re not exactly a party animal, are you?” 

Before Kiyomi could reply Misa had already taken Light’s arm and dragged him to the bar for more drinks. Light had to admit, the cocktails options were impressive, and he sort of wanted to try everything on the menu, but in the end, following the beach spirit, he and Misa both ordered a piña colada, and while usually, he wasn’t a fan of too much sweet in his alcohol, the fresh taste felt like a blessing under the hot summer sun, enough that soon he found himself chatting amicably with Misa and even had to catch himself from -dear God- giggling at something she said. 

Such was his mildly buzzed state when a sight at the corner of his eyes caught his attention. Turning around, he understood why. A black-haired man was standing under a palm tree and sipping at his own colada, with his back very badly curved in an awful posture and huge eyes fixed somewhere on the sand. Weirdly enough, he was wearing jeans to the beach with only a loose tank top to combat the scorching weather, and still, his wild mop of hair was the most recognizable part of him, which was in itself something, as Light had never in his life seen someone more particular. He’d seen the other boy around campus a handful of times before, but there had never been an opportunity for him to approach him, even though Light had always felt an inexplicably strong pull for him to ask him about his name. 

Misa loudly calling his name made him realize he’d been staring. 

“Misa, do you know who that is?”

Misa squinted in the direction of Light’s eyes, face lighting up with recognition. 

“Of course! That’s Ryuzaki! He’s actually the inheritor of Wammy’s Co. But not many people know about that,” the model smirked like she was telling the juiciest gossip. “People like Takada probably think he sticks out like a sore thumb around here. But the truth is, he’s got more money than any of us combined.” Light’s ears perked up at that. “He’s also one of the smartest people you’ll ever meet, and I’ve met you, Light. I don’t know who invited him, though. Let’s ask him! Hey, Ryuzaki!!" 

The odd student turned around towards the voice calling him and tilted his head to the side in silent interrogation. 

The boy’s assemblage of quirks brought a smile to his face. He hadn’t allowed himself to think it before, but he had always thought the student was rather cute even with how little he knew of him. 

“Who invited you?!” 

Light winced and glared at Misa for how carelessly she had posed such a question, but Ryuzaki didn’t seem the least bit faced and instead cupped a hand near his mouth like a mock-megaphone and shouted: “I just came for the desserts!” with a wide-eyed expression that gave no indication whatsoever of if he was teasing or not. 

Misa laughed like she’d heard the best joke ever and Light just blinked in the boy’s direction.

“Isn’t he a blast?” She hollered as Ryuzaki’s eyes met his.

It was hard for Light to describe those few seconds, but for one single moment, the strings holding his soul together seemed to vibrate at a different tune than they’d played previously. He was unsure if he shivered, but he had to break the eye contact like some damned school girl to pull himself back together. 

Why did his face feel warm all of a sudden? 

"Ooh, I love this song! Let’s dance, Light!” Misa interrupted his thoughts again with a squeal.

“Uhh, sure, yeah…" 

×~°~×~°~×~°~×~°~×

Dancing was decidedly not as fun unless you had a certain amount of alcohol in your body. Or at least, that was Light’s opinion on the matter. Who’d enjoy several hours of mindlessly moving your body unless somehow inebriated? That’s why Light had to drink another two mimosas to keep up with dancing with Misa for five songs straight, not because he was somewhat shaken up about the guy with the bird’s nest hair and the absent look –Ryuzaki, his brain provided– and certainly not because he was figuring out how to approach him. 

He separated from Misa when the sun was already setting, bathing the sea with a last warm goodbye. Everyone at the beach stopped for a moment to marvel at it, but Light only had eyes for Ryuzaki, who was… nowhere to be seen, sending Light into a momentary panic. 

He almost slapped himself when he found him below the parasol housing the buffet. It was what Ryuzaki had said before about the only reason for coming to the party. Normally, he would have remembered, which only meant Light’s brain wasn’t behaving as fast as it normally would. It couldn’t be that he’d have too much to drink, could it? 

Alright, be smooth, Yagami. 

“Hello!” Light chirped with a wide grin, planting himself beside the strange boy who was staring at the lines of sweets like they were study material. 

Ryuzaki turned to him with a blink. 

That had come higher than intended. 

"We, uh, are in the same faculty? I’ve seen you around 345.”

“Light Yagami. Second-year Criminal Justice major. You’re the son of detective-superintendent Soichiro Yagami of the NPA." 

"Um.”

“You respect and admire your father greatly and your intention is to become the deputy director of the NPA. You’re as ambitious as you are clever.”

“Why do you-”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’re aware of how popular you are around here, word goes around. You’re not the only one I have this sort of information on." 

Light wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be reassuring. 

At the very least, that introduction had sobered him up. 

The other student was appraising him with a curious gaze, as he was starting to learn he looked at pretty much everything. 

"Is that the way you introduce yourself to everyone?" 

"Hmm. Yes, usually. I told you. You’re not special in that regard.”

“In what regard am I special, then?” Light asked cheekily. 

“That’s not-”

But he didn’t let him finish before walking around him like a predator would its prey. He made a show of considering what pastry he’d take and settled for a star-shaped cookie. Ryuzaki watched the whole procedure closely and Light smirked at him as he took a bite. 

Yes, I made you think about my mouth now. How’s that, smart-ass? 

“I think we should get to know each other better, don’t you?”

“And what makes you come to that conclusion?” Ryuzaki supposed. 

“Well, I want to, for one.” Light sassed.

“Are you coming on to me?" 

Light’s confident semblance cracked. It suddenly dawned on him what he was doing and where. Fuck, what if he isn’t into guys? This was why he never flirted with men unless he was sure the other person was at least bisexual! Or just let the other guys come onto him, which he never had a lack of. Shit. 

Ryuzaki seemed to notice his momentary alarm because he placed a hand on his arm in reassurance. 

"No, I’m into it. I was just surprised,” he explained with an earnestness Light wasn’t expecting. 

“Surprised?”

“People like you don’t usually flirt with me." 

"What’s people like me?" 

"Now you’re just fishing for compliments." 

Light grinned, feeling like his assured (but not overly-presumptuous) self again. 

“Swear I’m not.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Your hand is still on my arm, by the way.” 

Ryuzaki blinked at the offender, which was indeed still curled around Light’s tricep like a possessive pale spider. He only let go of it slowly, finger by finger, and Light pretended he could see a faint blush on the other’s face with the last rays of sunlight. 

There was a conscious effort on his part to not brush those sharp cheeks tenderly with his knuckles, less the sudden contact spook his new sudden fascination away. 

“It appears you’re not the only intoxicated one of the two of us,” Ryuzaki admitted in a low voice.

The loud party music and noises of the crowd seemed so far away. 

Light took a step forward. 

“We should–” 

“Light!”

A group of people was coming their way, and Light recognized Takada, Okubo Chise, Kinoshita Hideo, and another fake-blond dude he’d never had any interest in talking to. Kinoshita was the son of a major tech company’s executive and was rotting in money from his million-dollar hair to the ugly fungus in his toenails. Light, sadly, had had a mild interest for him at first, but that went to shit when he came to see how much of an asshole he was. 

Kinoshita grabbed him by the shoulder, while Chise and the fake-blond planted themselves in front of Ryuzaki. Takada, for her part, just stood to Light’s side glaring in Ryuzaki’s direction. What the hell?

“Light, what is someone like you doing talking with a freakshow like Ryuzaki.” Kinoshita wondered, exposing his gums in a self-satisfied smile that quickly raised Light’s hackles. "Don’t you know nothing good ever comes from involving yourself with him?”

“Come again?” 

“It’s true, Light. He doesn’t have a good reputation,” Takada interjected, not bothering to hide the disgust in her face with a once-over to his new acquaintance. “I don’t know how he’d have the nerve to come in here, uninvited.”

Frowning, Light searched to see the face of the boy he’d just been so pleasantly flirting with and, outwardly, found him to appear relatively unbothered. He’d expected him to be angry, indignant, or even sad, but Ryuzaki only had his hands in his jean pockets and was yet again staring with wide eyes at some unknown fixed point as if no one were talking about him. 

“You’re going to have to be more specific about whatever offense Ryuzaki’s done. But whatever the case, I find it incredibly distasteful to round him up like you’re doing.”

“It’s alright, Light. Kinoshita is probably still just angry because I exposed a nasty little online scam of his, and attained information that could lose him the already crumbling favor of his father, and also the fact that he is nevertheless unable to cause me any significant harm,” Ryuzaki answered matter-of-factly without sparing a single glance at Kinoshita’s direction.

Everyone fell silent for a moment. 

Okay, that was… 

Extremely attractive. 

“You’re a lying little cunt!” Kinoshita snarled. 

“The naive teenagers being granted false scholarships would argue otherwise.”

“What? Hideo, you said–” Takada began. 

But the small elite group exploded in an argument about what Kinoshita had or hadn’t done, with the latter giving weaker and weaker arguments. Light was so engrossed in his rightful indignation and the opportunity to disgrace Kinoshita, that by the time he called for Ryuzaki’s own word in the matter the strange student had already left without saying a word.

×~°~×~°~×~°~×~°~×

“Ryuzaki!" 

The hunched figure paused in his lazy gait towards the beach boulevard, but the dark disheveled head didn’t turn around. Light was panting by the time he caught up to him and he could feel the beginning of a headache already forming. 

Night had already fallen and the breeze charged at them from within the sea. 

"You’re already going?" 

"I am indeed approximately 700 feet from the party." 

"Not what I was asking.” Light rolled his eyes. 

Ryuzaki turned around finally, all sharp angles and even darker eyes illuminated by the blue and purple artificial lights on the street. 

“Well, your question didn’t contain your true intentions either. You’re asking why I’m going. And I assume this means you’d like to talk more?" 

Fastidious asshole. 

L didn’t wait for Light to answer before taking his phone from his jean’s pocket and handing it to him with the contact app open. 

Light typed quickly and handed the phone back, which finally brought a blessed smile to Ryuzaki’s face.

"I’m looking forward to talking to you soon, Light Yagami. Oh and before I forget." 

Long, spidery fingers settled themselves in a careful hold below Light’s chin, and before he had time to process what was about to happen, soft lips gave a feathery kiss to his own, so quick it might have been fantasy if it weren’t for the ghost of a contact searing an imprint over Light’s heart. 

“I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you at the entrance ceremony.”

[pascalpanic]

‘Nilla Bean (Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x gn!Reader)

Summary: A cowboy in your coffee shop is not the way you’d expected your morning to go, but you’re not complaining; especially not when he’s as attractive as he is.

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: talk of food/eating, brief allusions to alcohol, lots of flirting, sexual innuendos, I think there’s like a single use of fuck

A/N: okay I’ve been thinking about this FOREVER but I finally went ahead and wrote it!!! hope u guys like it, I’m a sucker for a coffee shop AU as a barista myself :) thx @theteddylupinexperience for helping me name it and motivating me to write it lol

When you started your shift this morning, you’d groaned as you tied the apron around your waist, expecting an uneventful day. Most were. If you were lucky enough to see someone you knew or to have an especially nice customer, you’d consider it a good day. You didn’t know when you walked in that it would be the good day to end all good days: nothing could top this one.

Weekday mornings in the fall aren’t particularly busy. The majority of your customers come around the morning rush, and the remaining ones are usually retirees or house-spouses and their young children. It’s enjoyable, days like these, that don’t require you to dash about the shop.

The only problem, really, is having nothing to do. You clean the coffee grinder, wipe down tables, wipe down everything else, then do it all again. Restocking, usually an endless chore, isn’t even an option; no one’s using anything in the first place. You and your coworkers chat, deep-cleaning the coolers, washing the blender stations, and doing the dirty work. When a customer comes, you’re the lucky one who gets to go take their order and put your task on hold first.

It seems like you’ve done every task twice, even when your manager introduces yet another idea for you to deal with. To bide your time, you prep coffee for later, rearrange the case of pretty little pastries that sits next to your register, and doodle on your station with a paint pen, humming to the soft music playing in the shop.

People come and go, some picking up mobile orders and some ordering from you, some choosing to eat inside and some taking their food to go. You sip your drink happily between customers- a white mocha with caramel.

At one point, you’re in the back and washing dishes when a coworker peeks his head into the back. “Hey, you got someone up front!” He informs you, and you nod and wander out through the swinging doors.

Well. That’s certainly a sight for a Tuesday morning.

The man standing at the register is wearing a painfully well-tailored suit jacket, with gray tweed and patches on the elbows. Beneath it is a white top and a black tie, and the man wears jeans on the bottom half. Interesting.

Perhaps more interesting is the large cowboy hat perched atop his head. The man’s face, below the brim of his Stetson, is incredibly handsome. He has an aquiline nose, a neatly trimmed mustache that wouldn’t work on anyone else, and warm brown eyes that make you smile softly.

“Hi,” you comment as you log into the register. “Are you a part of our rewards program?” You ask as part of your regular spiel.

The man furrows his brow then shakes his head. “Uh, no. No I’m not. Can you sign me up now?” He asks, and his voice makes your chest flutter with the tone. It’s rich and smooth, with a beautiful southern twang.

Looking at your register and back at him, you shake your head. “It’s just an app on your smartphone, really easy,” you tell him.

“Ah, damn,” he groans and pulls it from his pocket. “I’m shit with technology. Why don’t you just… type it in here?” He says, handing you his phone with a notes page open. His thick fingers accidentally lock the phone as he hands it to you.

You tap the screen to wake it and find the background to be a picture of a cute little pig all covered in mud. “Uh, you locked it,” you chuckle. “What’s the password?”

The man looks down shyly. “1-2-3-4. Don’t make fun’a me, I’m like a grandpa with these newfangled phones.”

It’s endearing, you have to admit, and it makes you giggle. “Not a problem. I’m not here to chide you on your security choices,” you shrug. You type in the code and find the app, starting the download for him before handing back his phone. “Can I get a name to start your order?” You ask as you look up at him.

His eyes hold a warmth there, radiating off of his smile. “Whiskey.”

“Your mother named you Whiskey?” You tease as you type in the name, returning back to the main page of beverages. “Some kind of legal name.”

The man shakes his head. “Nah, that’s just what I go by at work.”

Whiskey likes conversation, you notice, and it makes you chuckle a little. “You got a real name then?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow beneath your visor.

The man tips his hat. “Jack Daniels, at your service.” He says and offers you a hand, which you take and shake.

“That’s a lie. You’re telling me your nickname is Whiskey and your real name is a type of whiskey?”

The man shrugs. “My momma had a real funny sense of humor, I guess. My daddy loved the booze so they went with it. I work for Statesman, so I suppose it’s fitting.”

“Ah, the distillery,” you nod with a smile, not grasping the depth of what Statesman actually does. How could you? “Well then, Jack,” you say with an honest grin on your face. “What can I get you to drink?”

Whiskey, Jack, whatever his name is, looks up at the menu, scanning the different beverages. “Well. That sure is a lot of choices. I’m new to the area, so I don’t know the menu yet, and I don’t know the first thing about coffee other than how to make it in a machine,” he admits to you. “What would you recommend, sugar?”

Sugar. Your heart beats a million times faster at the man’s words. You’ve had lots of weird and creepy men call you different things, but you’ve never been flustered and enjoyed it. This man is getting to you, quickly. “Well, how strong do you take your coffee?”

He thinks about that for a second, fiddling with the button on his suit jacket. “Pretty strong. A little sweet, with cream. I usually take it Irish style,” he admits with a chuckle, tapping a belt buckle that you realize is a tiny flask. Jesus. That’s not cheesy.

“Well, we don’t serve alcohol,” you laugh and look down at your screen. “We have all kinds of flavors.” You list them all off, off the top of your head, now staring at the ceiling to recite them all. “And our seasonal drink is pumpkin spice.”

The man raises an eyebrow. “Wonderful and all, but what do you like? You seem like you’ve got a good taste, darlin’, tell me what you’d recommend.”

God, these names are going right to where they shouldn’t, especially not when this handsome man is leaning on your counter and flirting with you as he orders his coffee. “I like vanilla.” You shrug.

The man laughs and stands. “I hate to say it, sugar, but I’m not a very vanilla man,” he says, his head tilting down and his dark, sultry eyes peeking out at you from just below the brim. His voice is seductive, implying something else other than the flavor.

Oh fuck. “Oh, not like that,” you laugh as your face floods with warm blood, anxiety coursing through your veins. “Not vanilla in that way.” Fuck, that’s even worse, you think and grip the counter so as to not physically cringe at your words.

“Not like that, huh?” His words are still so seductive and flirtatious it makes you want to combust. Maybe you will, if he keeps this going.

“N-no,” you stammer, looking down at the menu screen again. “I mean, I just think it’s underrated. People dismiss it as boring, but it’s really just as interesting of a flavor as anything else. It tastes really good with our espresso.”

Jack tilts his head to the side, a smirk on his face. His lip pokes out just slightly to wet his lips and you shiver involuntarily, your skin pricking up all across your body. God, you hope he can’t see it. “I’ll trust you on it, ‘nilla bean,” the man drawls and stands up straight again. “Triple espresso with vanilla and cream.”

You nod and ring that in. God, if he keeps going with the nicknames, you’re going to melt into a puddle here and now.

“What are these?” He asks as his fingers trace over the drawings on the counter, lifting them and finding the pink and green powder of the dried paint has transferred to his fingertips.

God, he makes you nervous, but in a good way. In the best way possible, a way that makes you want to knock that cowboy hat off his head and find out if his lips are as soft as they look. “I draw when I’m bored. It’s been a slow day,” you chuckle as your own fingers trace the crawling vines and flowers you’d painted there. “Sorry about the transfer,” you chuckle and your fingertips brush his, making you involuntarily shudder again at the contact. His fingertips are calloused and radiate warmth.  “Uh, can I get you anything to eat?” You ask and gesture at the bakery case.

The man inspects it for a moment, looking at the various foods lined up under the soft white light. “I’ll take one’a these,” he says and pokes a finger towards the chocolate chip cookies through the glass. You nod and take one out for him, putting it in a little paper sleeve and handing it over. “How much is this gonna hurt my wallet?” He asks, pulling it out from the back pocket of his jeans.

“Give me one second.” You type in your code for your employee discount, which takes a moment.

“What’re you typin’ there, ‘nilla bean?” He asks, brow furrowing.

Looking up at him, you push your visor up your face and smile a little. “Oh, I’m giving you my employee discount. It’s ridiculously priced here.”

Jack frowns. “You don’t have to do that for me, sugar. I’m just a regular ol’ customer.”

It’s your chance, you realize, to say something or stay silent forever. “Well, I like you,” you admit and take the credit card he hands you, swiping it through the machine. “And I’m hoping you’ll at least become a regular. I’d like to see you more,” you tell him with a grin.

The man’s face lights up, even beneath the shadow of his brim. “I’d like that too,” he nods and pockets his card when you hand it back.

A beat of silence passes as the two of you smile at each other, both of you lovestruck immediately. “Uh, your drink will be right up over there,” you say and nod to the other end of the café. “Are you going to drink that here or take it to go?” You ask.

“Oh, here,” he nods.

“Perfect,” you say with a small smile. “Then I’ll just bring it to you when it’s ready. Nothing better to do today,” you shrug and wander down to the other end before Jack, Whiskey, whatever can refute you.

You take the cup from your coworker, humming to yourself as you put some vanilla and cream in the cup, pulling the espresso shots. When it’s ready, it barely reaches the halfway mark of the small cup, so you top it with a little whipped cream. You suspect the man has more of a sweet tooth than he lets on.

Pocketing a pink paint marker, you put a lid on the drink and walk out to the dining room, setting the coffee down across from him. He’s munching on the cookie he’d ordered, looking up at you with unintentional puppy dog eyes. “Hey there.”

“Hi,” you smile and pull out the chair across from him, sitting down and pulling out the paint pen. “I put a little extra whipped cream on top. I thought it would go well with the espresso, make it a little creamier or something.”

As you uncap the paint pen, Jack’s brow furrows as he watches you. “Whatcha doing there?” He asks as you bring his cup closer to yourself and write something on the top.

“Being brave,” you chuckle and cap the pen, sliding it back. “I gotta head back. Enjoy it,” you say as you stand and pat him on the shoulder.

Only as you walk back to the register does Whiskey comprehend exactly what you put on the top of his cup. It’s your phone number, in that chalky pink paint, and a smiley face beneath it.

Jack may not be great with technology, like he told you, but he immediately pulls out his phone and takes a photo. Then he enters the number into a contact, filling out the name: ‘Nilla Bean.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain

[alderaani]

Embers

summary: After Umbara, Boil learns how to endure, and how to reclaim pieces of his brothers marching on | AO3 | series

warnings: canonical character death, grief, animal injury + mentions of animal death (completely not explicit, on the level of canon-typical violence).

a/n: finally another part of my 100 clone prompts - the rest of the series is linked above! i know there’s not much in canon to support Waxer being an animal lover, but i wanted to give Gree a friend to nerd out with and it’s cute. also gotta pay homage to @nibeul’s wonderful art here - while I wasn’t consciously inspired by it, it hits on v similar themes and is just beautiful like...that image of waxer holding up numa lives in my head rent free.

-

Insects swirled in a halo around his helmet. They swarmed around the seams of his blacks, too, attracted to the small beads of sweat there, to the tiny strips of flesh he couldn’t quite cover. The rising bites itched, rubbing where the edge of his vambraces met fabric, and the buzzing was enough to drive a man mad. Boil sighed, brushing them off half-heartedly and watching them billow angrily away. They’d be back. They always were.

In the reprieve, he fumbled at his belt for the viewfinders hooked there and brought them to his visor. As he spun the dial to within half a klik so that he could search the undergrowth, his thumb settled in the comforting groove where Waxer had dropped them and chipped the plastoid. He worried at it with his nail while he scanned, frowning.

It was too still.

Too quiet.

Had been in his head for weeks now, verging on a month, and he was still waiting to feel something other than crippling emptiness. There weren’t any dreams any more, none except for the oldest one they all pretended not to have; levelling a blaster against Kenobi’s head and pulling the trigger. Even that didn’t feel like the nightmare it used to.

Eventually he lowered the viewfinder, feeling the hair stand up on the back of his neck at the stifled sound of his own breath in the dense air. A faint, humid breeze stirred the leaves, sending a cloud of thick yellow pollen up towards the canopy. Boil blinked to bring up the filter diagnostic on his HUD, keeping his belly low to the ground to avoid the stuff as it drifted lazily overhead.

“Kid, you doin’ alright out there?”

He listened to the static hum of the comm line for a few moments, biting back the panic that crawled up the back of his throat when it dragged on just a beat too long.

“Apart from gettin’ gnawed on by the bugs? Just grand, Sir.”

Potshot sounded a little winded, but that was probably just the heat. Blacks self-regulated temperature, but only to the extent that they made sure you sweated evenly. It never used to be quite so bad; that had been the one thing Phase 1 armour had going for it, for all it was bulkier and less adaptable to varied terrain. He supposed the Republic had had to cut costs somewhere. Waxer would’ve been whining by now that his ass was so hot they could light a flare off it. Potshot was young enough that he’d never known any different.

“Good, you see anything?” Boil grunted, pinging his location anyway. There was no real reason for it; Potshot might’ve still been green but he wasn’t stupid, and he’d done well to keep up so far. Boil could stand being self aware enough to acknowledge that he hadn’t been the most welcoming, or the most patient with the new partner he’d never wanted. He wouldn’t have had any right to be overbearing now, but it was for his own comfort, however small and bittersweet.

“Nothin’ at all. That seem odd to you too?” Potshot said, as the surveillance holos he’d taken popped up. Boil flipped through them, earmarking a couple to show him how to improve the angle later. The important shit was all there - enough to confirm what he’d already suspected. No birds, no creatures, no fresh droppings.

Just the bugs, and the trees, and them.

“Yeah, it’s odd alright. Think we’ve found what the general’s looking for.”

Boil felt pressure around his right boot and turned, vibroblade in hand, to stab into the fleshy vine knotting round it. It writhed and retreated, leaving behind pitted, smoking trails where acid had started eating into the plastoid. He registered the damage with a dull sort of annoyance. It was something else to take care of later, a way to look busy and shape the silence. It would fend off the others and their offers of company, made out of pity he couldn’t bear to look at.

“Really? What’re you seein’, boss?” Potshot asked.

Boil glanced upwards to track the position of the sun; high, almost directly overhead. At the peak of the day this place should have been teeming. Instead the only tracks he’d found had been baked solid, and this wasn’t the shocked quiet that followed a stampede. It was stagnant, aging.

“This forest is in the centre of an old super-volcanic crater, right?” he asked, not waiting for a response. It had been in the mission dossier, alongside profiles of the flesh eating plants, the deadly pollen and the venomous creatures, all of it fenced into the sloped, unforgiving bowl of the terrain. It was the kind of forest that stuck in the mind. “And we know that something has driven the wildlife away.”

Potshot hummed, the comm muffling for a second as he shifted. It took a moment of bitter disappointment coiling in Boil’s belly for him to realise that he’d been waiting for a sharp quip that wasn’t coming. He swallowed thickly, wondering how it was possible to feel so wrongfooted while lying down. If he’d ever find his balance again. If he ever wanted to feel whole now that such a fundamental piece was missing.

Potshot groaned suddenly. “Kriff it, the factories we’re looking for are underground, aren’t they?”

Boil forced a chuckle, choking past the self hatred clawing up through his lungs. The kid deserved better, deserved a superior who didn’t constantly treat him like a ghost.

“That’s it, kid. Just like the simulations, eh?”

Potshot laughed, the easy sound making Boil’s throat seize in longing so strong his teeth ached. Waxer would’ve loved him, and that made it all the worse.

“Hardly. What do we do next?”

“Alright,” Boil said, lifting the viewfinder for one last look at where he could see slight fog rising through the trees. “You get your ass back to forward command and debrief the General, I’m heading in for a closer look.”

“ What? But - Sir! We’re supposed to be working as a team. I can’t leave you -”

“Sometimes working as a team means you do your duty and trust the others to do theirs.” He cut in, keeping his voice steady by force of will. Sometimes, it meant carrying on alone. Boil clipped the viewfinder back into place and prepared to move, even as Potshot continued protesting. Boil didn’t answer for long enough that silence fell on the line.

“...am I not performing to the standard expected, Sir?”

Potshot’s voice was soft, all vulnerable underbelly. Still so shiny, and Boil remembered feeling like that, like there was still a scorecard constantly on his forehead.

“No - kid -” Boil sighed, dropping his head forward. He’d never learned how to be gentle - it hadn’t ever come naturally, and there had been no reason to lose his sharp edges when Waxer had always been there to foil them for him. He felt sharper now than ever, full of shards that didn’t sit right, and fished among the pieces for something his brother might have said. “I trust you to have my back. You’re doing everything right. But...sometimes we’ve gotta think of the mission. We need more proof before we can move in, but the two of us get caught, command loses what we already know.”

“Can’t we just send a comm?” Potshot asked, his voice still tight and hurt sounding and he was fucking this up, shouldn’t have been trusted to try to fix himself without breaking everyone else wide open in the process.

“Don’t trust it not to get intercepted,” Boil said, which was only half a lie, and would have made Cody scoff at the back to front over-caution. “And it don’t all fit in a comm. They’ll need everything you can remember to plan the advance.”

Potshot sighed, but when he spoke again his voice was looser. “...Yes, Sir. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” Boil said, feeling his own chest lighten. “If you don’t hear from me by 1100 then raise me on the priority channel.”

He listened until Potshot had stated a reluctant affirmative and clicked off the line, then bellied out of the undergrowth and headed further in, to the epicentre of the unnatural quiet. He liked the way his mind went silent on recon, how everything else fell away. It wasn’t quite the same, tilted just a little off axis, but similar enough to when it had been Waxer at his six that if he didn’t think about it, he could almost trick himself into believing nothing had changed.

Plus, the space was good, just for a few minutes, where he didn't have to pretend for anyone.

It was a quiet journey, for the most part, punctuated only by the steps he couldn’t quite muffle. His thoughts were broken some time later when he suddenly heard it; the distant mechanical boom of something deep underground. He quickened his pace, following the vibrations until the earth under his feet grew hot, the air shimmering unnaturally in front of him. It had been like this at Point Rain, when the sand baked and glinted, glass-like, under the blaze of the overhead sun. If he hadn’t known the super-volcano was very thoroughly extinct, he could have kidded himself that it was just the geothermal energy of magma moving close to the surface. A clever disguise. But not clever enough.

The ground sloped ever downwards the further into the bowl he got. He watched where he placed his feet as it grew rockier, stones and small craters acting like pitfall traps concealed by the moss. Boil pinged his scanner every minute, searching for Seppie probes as the terrain tapered, falling away into a green-rimmed yawning abyss. Set into the centre of it was a huge grate, the source of the searing air. Here were the factories they’d been looking for, exactly where he’d suspected. It was a muted sort of satisfaction.

He crouched at the edge of the drop, taking holos and transmitting them directly to the Commander’s HUD. Then he checked his chrono and sent an unapologetic follow up that he’d be late to rendezvous, seeing that 1100 was about to come and go. Then he minimised the comms on his HUD to flash for priority only; he’d get bollocked for being late sooner or later, but he figured it would be novel to have it fully in person.

Finally he turned, ready to start the rapid scale back towards the 212th's forward camp, when he registered a low, keening whine.

His blaster was in his hands within a moment, trained at the knee-high leaves. The sound came again, higher this time, followed by laboured panting.

He gently brushed aside some of the foliage with his blaster barrel. Dark eyes stared at him from between the leaves. They both froze. It was some sort of animal, obviously; a mammal, probably a predator. It was small too, with paws too large for its scrawny body and a dark, downy fur that rippled with every laboured breath.

Sharp teeth. A narrow muzzle. A long, whip-like tail.

A vornskr, Boil thought, and hated how readily the identification came, how readily he tensed in anticipation of the inevitable Boil can you see - do you know how rare -

He shook the memories away, of Waxer leaning precariously over the top bunk to wave some manual Commander Gree had sent him in his face, bleating about some animal or species that Boil couldn’t pronounce. In the present the vornskr pup cowered away from him, pushing backwards on thin, spindly legs. Deceptively powerful though, he’d bet.

The creature let out another whine and stumbled, an odd abortive movement. Boil pressed more of the leaves away to get a better look and swore when he saw the brutal metal trap closed around one of its small hind legs, paring down to bone. His blaster was up and trained on the thing before he thought much about it. Better to shoot it, put it out of its misery, than prolong its suffering. It was what they did as part of the cleanup sometimes; wildlife was usually pretty good at getting out of the active battlefronts, but there were always stragglers. The too old or the too young, mostly.

Creatures like this one.

The vornskr stilled, staring at him with those big, wide eyes as if it knew exactly what he was thinking. Boil swallowed. Waxer wouldn’t have let him shoot it. Waxer also wasn’t here now to stop him, but Boil felt his arm lower all the same, just a few inches before he pulled the trigger. The vornskr yelped as the trap hinges came apart in two neat halves and immediately tried to run. It didn’t get very far before it collapsed, panting again.

Boil sighed and shook his head, holstering his blaster across his back.

“That was a stupid thing to do,” he tsked, shuffling closer.

He kept half an eye on the tail, remembering something about it being venomous. While being high off his ass on some unknown substance had the potential to make Cody’s dressing down more interesting, it might also kill him before he got there.

The vornskr growled as he leaned over it, baring needle sharp teeth, and made a snap at him when Boil reached out.

“Ah, give over,” he muttered, batting the attempt away. The little body was light in his hands as he lifted it, careful to let the injured leg hang out as he folded it into his chest. The vornskr made an odd, throaty sound and shifted, almost experimental. Then it huffed, and after a pause laid its head across his vambrace.

Boil rolled his eyes at the display, setting off towards forward command as soon as he was halfway sure he wasn’t in danger of losing a finger.

It was...nice, to have that little body cradled to him, reminiscent of better occasions when Waxer just had to stick his nose into every curious happening and inevitably adopted some struggling lifeform. However much Boil had complained, it had never steered them wrong.

When he got back to command it was to find Cody pacing the perimeter, Potshot perched on a crate nearby. The Commander’s bucket was under his arm. Boil winced. With Cody that was never an accident - usually so he could get the full weight of a glare in, the excavating kind he’d learned from Kenobi and then weaponised so that it pierced straight down to bone.

“Boss!” Potshot exclaimed, pushing off his seat. “You made it!”

“What time d’you call this?” Cody demanded, stalking over. “I was about to -”

Cody stopped short, gaze dropping to the furry bundle against Boil’s breastplate. Something in his expression softened and Boil felt in his heart, panicking as a lump rose in his throat.

“What’s that?” Cody asked.

Boil let his gaze slide downwards to a point far beyond, where two troopers were fighting over a tarp.

“Found it in a trap,” he said, his voice ragged. “Couldn’t - couldn’t let it die.”

He flicked his eyes back to Cody’s face and breathed through the grief and understanding he found there. Cody stepped forward and clasped Boil’s elbow.

“I’m sure Tranq will be able to do something for it.” A little upturn crept into the line of Cody’s lips. “Debrief in fifteen.”

Boil nodded and broke away, tipping his head to Potshot before clearing his throat roughly and popping his bucket off one-handed as he made his way to the medtent. The sun was warm on his face here, the air lighter. A butterfly flew lazily past and the vornskr lifted its head, tracking the motion with large, interested eyes.

Boil smiled, hoisting his bucket under one arm and daring to touch the creature's head with his freed hand. It wouldn’t ever bring Waxer back, but it meant something that this little life continued, because of the choices his brother would have made and all that he had been. Like the phantom touch of the sun still lingering in cooling earth.

It wouldn’t ever be enough. But, perhaps, it was just the right amount to cling onto.

-

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[jamespotterthefirst]

October 31st (Ethan x f!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2.3K Warning: Language Premise: Ethan Ramsey doesn’t do costumes... except maybe for her.

A/N: A pointless Halloween fic

A/N2: For Day 28 of @choicesoctoberchallenge2020​. The prompt is “Costume”.

1. Intern Year

Ethan resisted a groan as an atrocious, remixed version of The Monster Mash blared through the speakers, eliciting a cheer from the drunken crowd. Characteristically, he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes shut as he wondered why he decided to venture out on the worst night of the year. Perhaps he needed a drink that badly after another full day of dealing with interns.  

“Time for a refill, Dr. Ramsey,” a voice said over the music.

Ethan hated the way his pulse quickened at the sound.

Doing his best to appear collected, he shot what he hoped was an impassive glance at the figure now standing beside him at the bar, the floral notes of her perfume already caressing his every sense. One single glance at her, however, was enough to shoot all efforts of appearing aloof straight to hell.

She leaned casually against the bar, clad in a sensuous, forest green number that molded to every curve of her body and ensnared every bit of his attention. Dark green leaves embellished every surface of the sinfully short dress, tapering off into delicate, curly vines along her exposed shoulders and arms. Her glossy, dark hair was hidden away beneath a cascade of long, auburn waves that made her eyes appear greener still.

“Wig,” she explained with a small laugh when Ethan continued to stare.

At last, he pried his eyes away, feeling his neck flare with heat. Unsure of what else to say, he feigned indifference as he asked, “And what are you supposed to be, Rookie?”

Aside from fucking irresistible, his idiotic, addled brain added on impulse.

He could see Lilac's jaw go slack in a way that was almost comical but somehow managed to be entirely too adorable.

“You're kidding, right? I'm Poison Ivy.”

Ethan had known that. He had been, after all, a comic-book obsessed teenager once. If someone had told him back then that he would one day witness the sexiest version of the character imaginable, his head would have caved in on itself. Adult Ethan, it seemed, was no better because his eyes fell on her once again, unable to resist her magnetic pull.

Lilac, however, was too busy looking at the dancefloor. She nodded toward her group of friends, dancing, laughing, and contributing to half of the noise in the bar.

“We were all supposed to be Batman villains but Bryce and Landry got lazy. They put on a Thing One and Thing Two shirt and called it a day.”

Ethan followed her gaze to where the young surgeon had peeled off the aforementioned shirt, relishing in the attention that decision was earning him from a gaggle of girls nearby. The other one Lilac had mentioned stood awkwardly off to the side, too pale and and gangly to ever be Lahela's counterpart.

“More like tweedle dee and tweedle dum,” he muttered.

Lilac met his eyes at once and to his delight, she laughed, the sound sending his stomach into a dive. It was already maddening enough that the sound was entirely too attractive, but Ethan felt a swelling sense of satisfaction at being the one to inspire it.

When she sobered up, her green eyes remained on his, humor melting into a pensive expression. She continued to watch him with the conviction of someone discovering a new secret. He would have given anything to know what she was thinking at that very moment.

“What about you?”

“Hmm?”

He had been distracted by her full lips and by how fitting the damn costume was. Much like every weak-willed man in his comic books, Ethan would have risked absolutely everything to kiss her.

“No costume?”

“God no,” he spat, inspiring another little laugh.

“Never say never,” she told him in a sing-song voice.

“I can confidently say never.”

______________

2. A year later.

They paused outside the door to Bryce's apartment, the muffled sound of music and laughter making its way to the hall. Ethan briefly wondered if his neighbors would complain enough to derail the whole affair. It would mean he could go back to the peace and quiet of his home.

As if reading his mind, Lilac turned to face him, a knowing smile pulling at her lips. God, he loved it when she looked at him that way.

“You're not getting out of this,” she reminded him, her fingers moving to play with the orange Ascot tie she had forced him to wear.

“We're well into November. There was no need to dress up.”

As usual, Lilac rolled her eyes lovingly.

“It's hardly dressing up when all we did was put you in a white sweater you already owned, babe,” she explained for the hundredth time. Ethan tried to scowl at the pet name, but he was beginning to enjoy it. Instead, he relaxed into her touch, trying his best not to follow the lazy path her fingers made on his chest. “You wouldn't even wear a wig, so it doesn't count. As for the party being this late, it was the only night we all had off. And we'll be damned before we let a whole year pass us by without dressing up.”

She finalized that sentence with a searing kiss to his neck. His hands banded around her waist reflexively, pulling her soft body flush against his. In their time together, he had avidly learned the many ways to drive her just as crazy.

“You and I can still dress up,” he murmured darkly against her ear.

Lilac shivered, to his immense delight.

“Are you suggesting role play, Dr. Ramsey,” she returned in a poor attempt to mock him.

The formal mode of address, uttered in a low, breathy voice against his ear, made his blood buzz for her. More maddening still was the short, purple dress she wore along with the auburn wig that made a reappearance after a year.

“Got a thing for redheads?” she asked, correctly guessing the contents of his thoughts yet again.

Ethan smiled crookedly down at her. “I got a thing for you.”

The words rang with sincerity and an overwhelming sense of relief at finally being able to say them out loud, without any fear of consequences.

Lilac, for her part, looked as though she wanted to shove him against the wall and kiss him fiercely, but the erupting cheers from inside the apartment interrupted their exchange from advancing further.

“Mystery Gang in the house!” Bryce, dressed as a pirate, hollered as soon as they walked through the door. Everyone else cheered and hooted, the sounds no doubt fueled by the contents of the many red solo cups around the room.

“You guys look adorable!” Sienna commended over the music, greeting each of them with a friendly hug. “Fred and Daphne makes so much sense for you two.”

“Because we solve mysteries for a living?” Ethan asked, voice deadpan.

“Nah, because those two were a thing long before any of the others found out,” Elijah said as he joined them.

Lilac laughed out loud, the sound teetering on the edges of relief. She had been nervous, just like Ethan had been, that her friends would be awkward around them now that they knew of their relationship.

By the way they easily joked with him and included him in conversation throughout the night, their concerns had been for nothing. They even helped Lilac pressure him into dancing a modern pop song he had heard many times on the radio. Not that he needed much convincing when he would gladly do anything just to see her radiant smile directed his way.

By midnight, the party had dwindled down to drinks and board games. There was a raucous consensus to play Clue, which caused Bryce to roll his eyes.

“Of course the diagnosticians want to play the nerdiest game.”

Ethan rolled up his sleeves in preparation, which earned him a coy and borderline lustful look from Lilac. “You're just bitter that we're playing something other than beer pong, scalpel jockey.”

Elijah let out a surprised yet impressed laugh, wasting no time to high five Ethan. Even Bryce couldn't help but grin.

“Trash talk all you want, old man. I'm more than just a pretty face.”

When it came to Clue, however, Bryce had no chance against Ethan, who analyzed every player with sharp precision and correctly guessed the murderer, the room, and the weapon. Several games later, Ethan easily proved victorious while Bryce only laughed graciously, raising his palms up in defeat.

When even the board games ebbed into quiet conversation at the end of the night, Lilac sat on his lap, circling her arms around his neck. They sat like that for minutes, enjoying the nuances of being that annoyingly cute couple at a party.

“Thank you for dressing up for me,” she said as she pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

Even that sent his heart into a tumultuous rhythm.

“Only for you,” he murmured. “And as a one time deal only.”

______________

3. Many years later.

Ethan plastered the fur-lined hat on his head, a perfect complement to the fur-lined everything else he was currently wearing. Luckily, fall time in Boston was cold enough that the ensemble would prove to be practical as they walked the streets. He stepped into the hallway, not bothering to check his reflection. There was no doubt he looked utterly ridiculous.

But he didn't care.

He would do anything for her and for the unbridled joy in the eyes he loved so much.

Lilac was already waiting when he entered the living room, her smile impossibly wide as she glanced him over. It was the exact reaction he expected and he couldn't help but grin too.

“Is this how it's supposed to look?”

“Yes!” she all but shrieked in delight. The magenta cape of her costume fluttered behind her as she rushed to him, her body crashing against him in an overjoyed hug. “I love you so much for doing this.”

The words still sent a thrill through Ethan, as strong as the first time he heard them. Heart thundering wildly at his chest, he leaned down to kiss her, just because he could.

When they pulled apart, she watched him through half-closed eyes, her teeth catching her lush bottom lip. All Ethan wanted to do was carry her to their bed and tear off the costumes they had spent so much time perfecting. Inwardly, he marveled at how everything had changed over the years, but there were some things that remained the same.

Instead, he captured one of her plaits between his fingers. “These people we're dressed up as,” he started, gently trailing the ridges of her braid. Lilac watched him, captivated by his every word. “Do they end up together?”

She allowed a laugh. “We've watched nothing but that movie for a week straight.”

Ethan shrugged, allowing a sheepish grin. “I tune it out thirty minutes in every time.”

More laughter and Ethan decided then that he could hear the sound forever and not get enough.

“Don't let Dolores hear you say that,” she warned with one final kiss. She moved to break apart from their embrace but he stopped her.

His wife looked at him expectantly and Ethan frowned, suddenly doubtful.

“Do you think she'll like it?”

Lilac's curious expression melted into a fond smile. “She's going to love it,” she assured him, leaning in to press a sweet kiss on the tip of his nose.

Not surprisingly, Lilac had been right because moments later, a delighted shriek of laughter announced the arrival of their toddler daughter. Her godmother trailed close behind, crouching over in an attempt to fix the blue tulle that trailed along the floor as the child ran towards her father. It was futile and Sienna sighed in defeat, shooting Lilac an amused look.

“It's pointless,” Sienna laughed. “There's no stopping little Lolly when she sees her father.”

Proving that point, his daughter flung herself into Ethan's arms and cried, “Dada!”

“Hello, princess,” Ethan laughed as she pressed her version of a kiss on his cheek.

“I'm Elsa,” Dolores corrected sagely.

“Yes, babe,” Lilac added with mock seriousness. “You are in the presence of Queen Elsa of Arendelle. Have some respect.”

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” Ethan said to his daughter with such formality that the child laughed. Sienna watched the exchange with a watery smile, failing to repress a squeal.

A loud roar coming from the threshold informed them that their son had joined them. Sienna laughed as Jonah ran around the room, the antlers of his costume bobbing wildly as he moved. At last, he stopped right before Lilac, who picked him up in her arms.

“I didn't know reindeers roared,” she laughed, swaying her son in her arms.

Jonah roared again to demonstrate that reindeers could indeed roar formidably, at least when impersonated by a five year old. “I'm a Halloween reindeer,” he explained. “He roars to be spooky, but just for today.”

The adults laughed. “You're a good big brother, Jonah,” Lilac informed him with a kiss, closely followed by a tickle.

“Lolly wanted to be Elsa so bad so I wanted to help,” their son said through a giggle, as though it was the most obvious explanation in the world.

It was for Ethan.

As Sienna ushered them together for a picture, Ethan looked at his family, everyone smiling radiantly and far more beautifully than the moon itself. Little Dolores clung to him, laughing and looking happier than he had ever seen her.

His wife caught his eye and shot him a knowing but proud smile. Ethan knew she was remembering the cynical, jaded version of himself who had confidently proclaimed he would never do this.

Ethan had never been happier to be proven wrong.

______________

A/N: I HC they name their daughter after Dolores and nickname her Lola/ Lolly

Once upon a time I used to write for another pairing who canonically dies on Halloween. You have no idea how happy I am to write for a pairing who’s alive and well lol.

Thank you so much for reading! I love these time hop fics so much. I wrote another one for Ethan x MC a long time ago that I will publish on my birthday in November :)

Finally, Chapter 10 of the Pictagram is coming soon. It might be two parts... Yikes. Thanks for waiting so patiently for it! Life has been crazy over here

_______________

tags: @openheart12​​​ , @takeharryandgo​​​ , @trappedinfanfiction​​​, @aestheticartsx​​​, @aworldoffandoms​​​, @paulfwesley​​​, @myusualnerdyself​​​,  @rookie-ramsey​​​, @ohchoices​​​, @colossalpainintheass​​​, @enmchoices​​​, @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​​​, @choicesfanaf​​​, @openheartthot​​​, @octobereighth​​​, @nazarihoe​​​, @utterlyinevitable​​​, @kites-in-our-skies​​​, @maurine07​​​, @schnitzelbutterfingers​​​, @doilooklikeiknow​​​, @snesdudes​​​, @kingliam2019​​​, @perriewinklenerdie​​​, @cinnamonspongecake​​​, @choicesstan1​​​, @queencarb​​​, @ethxnrxmsey​​​, @missmiimiie​​​, @jens-diamondchoices​​​, @adamsdumortain​​​, @apphia12​​​, @kalogh​​​, @lucy-268​​​, @binny1985​​​, @queenbirbs​​​, @honeyandsunfl0wers​​​, @newcolonies​​​, @lilyvalentine​​​, @rigatonireid​​​, @interobanginyourmom​​​, @parkerattano​​​, @custaroonie​​​​, @nikki-2406​​​​, @lilypills​​​​, @chasingrobbie​​​​, @nooruleman​​​​,  @lonely-mxxnlight​​​​, @ruinedbypixels​​​​, @shadynaturehilariouscookie​​​​, @tsrookie​​​​, @mvalentine​​​​, @professorkingslay​​​​, @drakewalkerfantasy​​​​, @casey-v​​​​, @helloblueeyedcat​​​​, @mysticaurathings​​​​, @blossomanarchy​​​​, @thegreentwin​​​​, @togetherwearerapture​​​​, @rookieoh​​​​, @ramseysno1rookie​​​​, @rookiemarsswiftie​​​​, @natashajaniphil​​​​, @mysticalgalaxysstuff​​​​, @hatescapsicum​​​​, @choices-lurker​​​​, @kiara-36​​​​, @junehiratas​​​​, @danijimenezv​​​​, @macy-ray85​​​​, @adrex04​​​​, @canigetanawwjunk​​​​, @sanchita012​​​​, @overwhelminglyaquarius​​​​ , @scorpiochick8​​​​, @skylarklyon​​​​, @starrystarrytrouble​​​​, @mercury84choices​​​​, @drariellevalentine​​​​, @ethanrcmsey​​​​, @lion-ess24, @aarisa-frost​​​​, @kaavyaethanramsey​​​​ , @udishaman​​​​, @a-crepusculo​​, @quacksonlover​​

[kindnessisweakness]

YOU WERE A BET --PART 3!

Hi guys, I know you've all been waiting for this so here it is. I really hope you like it!

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

My stomach turned over as I waddled up the steps of the clubhouse. I was really nervous. The last time I was here my world was ripped apart and now I'm here for my gender reveal. Pushing open the door of the clubhouse I felt so strange. I hadn't seen any of them In months. Sure they all checked in by text or called but other than Felipe and EZ I haven't really had contact with any of them. Angel did as I asked and gave me space. Apart from scan photos and messages passed between Felipe and EZ and Doctors appointments I haven't had much contact with him. As much as i hate to say it it killed me. "OMG! Y/N look at you! You're glowing!" Letty gushed as she made her way over to me. "I feel like a whale!" I giggled as I took the young girl into my arms. " thank you for throwing this for me letty. You've done amazing with the decorations." And she had. Pink and blue balloons littered everywhere. There was 2 tables full of food laid out. A flower wall made of white roses and green vines lay off to the side with the words 'boy or girl?' In gold lettering on. And my faveorite thing of all? There was a donut wall!! Mini coco really pulled it out of the bag. "Honestly Letty I couldn't of planned it better myself". The young girl blushed and hugged me again just as the door to templo opened. "Y/N we've missed you" Bishop, Taza and Rizz wrapped you in a hug. Gilly, coco and Angel hung back behind creeper. They were clearly worried to approach you for fear of upsetting you. Hating the awkwardness I decided to make the first move. Giving Bishop a small smile I made my way over to them. "Coco, your daughter is a genius." Smiling softly coco gave you a hug. Gilly quickly following suit. "I'm sorry" they both whispered in your ears as they held you tight. Nodding at them as I pulled away to let them know it was ok, I could see the relief on their faces. Yes what they did was shitty. But they were my family and I couldn't hate them forever. Glancing up at angel who was watching the interaction I gave him a small smile. "Hey" my heart beat so fast in my chest as he smiled at me. I've missed him more than i could explain. I'd give anything to never find out the truth about how our relationship started. To go back to the beginning and be happy. The clubhouse door opening cut my thoughts off as Felipe and EZ came in.

Angel watched as the love of his life embraced his father. He loved the fact they were so close. Her own parents were never really around for her, always something more important than there daughter. They aren't even coming today to find out the sex of their grandchild. Angel couldn't help but smile as he took her in. She wore a white sundress that fell just above her knees. Tight enough to show the swell of her bump off proudly. She looked amazing. He didn't know what it was but seeing her carrying his child was just so damn attractive. If he had his way and they were back together he would of taken her home already and made her feel just as good as she looked. Angel shook the dirty thoughts from his head as he made his way to the table where she sat with Felipe and letty talking about her cravings. Not seeing her properly these last few months has been painful. So he was going to make the most of their time together.

A few hours into the party after everyone had eaten letty interrupted their convosations. "Hey shut up!" She shouted at Gilly and Creeper. Y/N couldn't help but smile at her. She was definitely Loco Cocos daughter. Beautiful but takes no shit. "Everyone make your way outside please." Looking at angel confused I waddled my way towards the door and back down the steps of the clubhouse. Making her way infront of everybody, Letty stood infront of Angels Bike. "Angel, get on your bike start it up and rev it" looking at her confused angel made his way towards the bike and sat down. Making my way to stand next to him I placed my hand on his shoulder, I don't know what it was but I just wanted to be close to him. To feel him next to me. "Are you ready?" He asked me. Grinning at him I nodded too excited to form words.

"3!"   "2!"  "1!"

Everyone screamed and cheered as Angel revved the engine and blue smoke started spilling from his exhaust. I don't know what came over me. Maybe it was the excitement of it all. But I grabbed angels face making him look at me "its a boy!" I whispered in happiness as I pulled him in for a kiss. Wrapping his arm around me he pulled me as close as he could with my big bump in the way. Everyone was still jumping around too happy with the reveal to notice the intimate moment between the two. All except for letty who yet again with her sneaky photography skills managed to capture the memory again. Y/N and Angel pressed close to each other as tears streamed down both their cheeks, a  passionate kiss shared between two heartbroken lovers as blue smoke spilled around them.

Pulling away from Angel Y/N was shocked at her behaviour. Suddenly feeling embarrassed that she threw herself at him like that she looked away from Angel. "Sorry. Damn pregnancy hormones" she stuttered as she quickly made her way through the crowd of guests and back up into the clubhouse bathroom. Letty followed behind her not missing angels face drop, his sad eyes following Y/Ns waddling figure.

Letty found her sat on the closed toilet seat crying. "What's wrong?" Shaking her head Y/N broke down, unable to hold it in anymore. "I'm just so split in half. Half of me wants to go out there tell him I love him and take him back. I'm not sleeping because I miss his warmth. I miss him next to me, I've gotten so used to us doing everything together. Fucking hell we used to shower together! I feel bad because I'm keeping him from experiencing this pregnancy too. It's his child too and he's missed so much. He should be with me at 2am when I'm craving pickles covered in flaming hot cheeto dust! He should be with me to hold my hair back when I've got sickness. He should be with me rubbing coco butter into my bump to help the stretch marks. The other half of me can't help but think what if I take him back and it's all a game again? What if it's all a lie? I don't think I could cope if I had to do this again. It's not just me I have to think about anymore it's our child. Plus what would people think of me if we got back together? People would think I'm a push over and I'm asking for him to hurt me again. I just don't know what to do I'm so torn." Letty pulled Y/N in for a hug. "Look, it doesn't matter what people think Y/N. If you want your man back you go get him! As for angel doing this to you again, I don't think he would dare. He knows he's messed up. I've seen him around the clubhouse these last few months he's not even looked in the direction of any of the women. Jesus he's been sat at the bar reading baby books during club parties" that made Y/N giggle. Wiping her eyes she stood up and gave Letty a hug. She needed to make her decision but why did it have to be so hard?

                    {{Time Skip}}

I winced as I stood back up. Getting prepared for this baby on my own while being heavily pregnant was proving difficult. Me and Angel have still not spoken since the kiss at the gender reveal. We've fallen back into the old routine of sending messages through Felipe and EZ. Y/N didn't know how to approach their messed up situation. She couldn't exactly turn up at the clubhouse and be like 'I want to go back to how we were. Take me home'  y/N didn't even know how angel felt about the whole thing. Too much time has passed, did Angel even want her back? She knew he wanted to be around for the baby and she had no doubts about him being an amazing father. But shes been undecided about their relationship for so long and has avoided him for months. Has Angel got sick of waiting around for her?

Moving around the spare room in her apartment Y/N packed away the baby clothes into the white chest of draws. She bent down to grab her maternity bag. She wanted to make sure she was fully prepared for this little boy to arrive. Suddenly a sharp twinge through her belly made her stop. She grabbed a hold of the cabinet that held the baby's nappies wipes and lotions and took a deep breath. She'd been having pains for most of the day, just thinking they were Braxton hicks she didn't worry too much. But when another pain ripped through her panic settled in her chest. This is it. She has no choice. She's got to phone angel. Slowly making her way down the hall and into the kitchen she grabbed her phone from the counter and dialled angels number. She nearly threw her phone in frustration when it went to voicemail twice. Giving up she called EZ. She nearly cried of relief when he picked up straight away. "Hey, everything ok?" His worried voice came over the phone. "Not really Ezekiel. I'm about to have a baby rip through my lady garden and your brother isn't answering his phone!" Y/N was starting to panic. These pains were getting more intense with every one that passed and she was terrified she wouldn't make it to the hospital. "Shit. He's in templo. His phones probably on silent. I don't know how long their gonna be Y/N" she couldn't believe it. She was going to explode. "GET IN THERE AND TELL YOUR BROTHER HIS CHILD IS ABOUT TO BE BORN! I COULD CARE LESS IF BISHOP CUTS YOU OPEN AND USES YOUR INTESTINES AS A SKIPPING ROPE FOR INTERUPTING!! IF YOUR BOTHER MISSES THIS I WILL RIP YOUR HEAD OFF AND SHIT DOWN YOUR FUCKING NECK EZEKIEL REYES!" EZ didn't know how to respond other than to mutter a very submissive and stuttered "Y-Yeah I'll tell him now. Hang in tight" scoffing Y/Ns anger was building "Yeah sure I'll just tell your nephew to hang in tight. I'm sure he can just hold on to his umbilical cord might make him stay in abit longer." Y/N let out a deep groan and ended the call. She moved to lie over the back of the couch hoping the change in position would help ease the pressure on her lower back. 'Just hold on for few more minutes little one. Daddy's on his way."

10 minutes later a red faced and panic stricken Angel ran up the steps of Y/Ns apartment building. He didn't want to think about how many speeding tickets he's probably going to receive from the rushed drive over here. Throwing open the door his eyes widened as he saw a tearful Y/N on all fours nearly screaming in pain. "It's ok baby I'm here! Let's get you to the hospital." Rushing over to her angel helped Y/N stand and moved her towards the door. Supporting her weight as they made their way down the steps and to the car angel helped her into the back seat. "I need my hospital bag. It's got all the baby stuff in." Angel shook his head. "Don't worry about that baby. I'll get Ez to come back for it. Let's just get you to the hospital." Y/N was about to argue but another contraction stopped her.

15 minutes of Angels frantic driving and 10 minutes arguing with the hospital receptionist who was eyeing Angel up they were finally on the Labour ward. "You didn't have to threaten to strangle her with the telephone line, Mi Dulce." Angel chuckled at her as she heavily inhaled on the gas and air. Her eyes narrowed at him "She was more interested in looking you over than getting me booked in. She's lucky I didn't reach over the desk and claw her fucking eyes out for looking at what's mine" angels heart clenched. It might just be the gas and air making her say that but he hoped with all his heart it wasn't. God, that kiss at the gender reveal kept playing over in his head. How he missed being able to kiss and hold her like that. A midwife entering the room made is attention refocus. "I'm just going to check to see how dialated you are" y/Ns eyes snapped up to angels as she gripped his hand. "Don't look down there!" She whined as she pulled on his t shirt making him turn away from the midwife as she lifted the bedsheets. Leaning over angel kissed her forehead, whispering "I've had my face down there baby, it doesn't make much difference" Y/Ns cheeks tinged pink as the midwife cleared her throat. "Ok so your 10cm dilated." She grinned at Y/N and Angels confused faces. " Your ready to start pushing let's have this baby!" They both looked at eachother wide eyed.  Their baby was close.

After an hour of pushing the baby still hasn't made an appearance in the world. Y/N was on her knees on the bed angel supporting her as she sucked on the gas and air heavily. "I can't do this angel!" She sobbed. "You can baby! He's gonna be in our arms in no time. You got this! I'm here. I'll always be here" crying she lay her head on his shoulder as his hands rubbed circles on her lower back. "Come on Y/N! Really big push now baby's close." The midwives encouraged her as they stood on the opposite side of the bed. Angel winced as Y/N pushed really hard. Christ, women really had it hard. Thank God men didn't have to give birth. "I love you" y/N gasped hard inbetween pushes. "I don't want to be apart anymore Angel. I can't do this on my own. I need you!" Angel kissed her forehead as she kept on pushing. "I'm sorry I dragged it out so long. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I know you probably don't want to be with me any more-" angel cut her off pushing the gas and air in her mouth. "Suck on that, keep pushing and listen. You have nothing to be sorry for! Ofcourse I want you. I want you and our son. Always. I meant it when I said you were it for me Y/N. Our relationship didn't have the best start I know but we're good together. You make me so happy--" the midwife interrupted angels speech. "I'm so sorry to cut your lovely moment short but I can see your baby's head! Little pushes now Y/N. Gently" Y/N listened as the midwife coached her through it and minutes later Gabriel Ignacio reyes was born.

Angel watched with pride as the his son lay on Y/Ns chest an hour later. The midwives had cleaned him up and done all their checks and he was perfect. Head full of black hair and the cutest little fingers and toes hed ever seen. Angel never thought something so small could make him feel like this. The door to the hospital room opened and in spilled Felipe, EZ and letty. "They only let a few of us in. The club said congrats on the baby. They'll give you some family time and meet him at his welcome home party." EZ explained as he made his way over to his nephew after handing Angel the hospital bag. Y/N pulled him down by his Kutte gently kissing him on the cheek. "Sorry for chewing your ass out on the phone earlier. Labour hurts." Smiling at Her Ez shrugged his shoulders "Don't worry about it. Let me meet the little guy." Angel stopped Ez from taking the baby. 'Nah man. There's someone more important first." Taking the baby from Y/N he handed his son to his father. "Meet your grandson pops" Felipe smiled as the baby was placed in his arms. Letty snapping a photo of the usually warring men incased in love around the new arrival. "Im proud of you, Mijo" angel teared up at the words he's always wanted to hear from his father. Clapping the old man on his shoulder letty interuped the moment. "Let me take a family photo." Felipe placed the baby back in Y/Ns arms and made his way to the other side of the bed where EZ stood smiling wide. Angel stood next to Y/N on the other side as letty snapped away with the camera. Looking up at him Y/N pulled him to sit along side her in the bed their son still nuzzled close to her chest. That was when letty had the opportunity to snap both Y/Ns and Angels faveorite picture to date. Y/N pulled angel in for a kiss holding him close to her as their son held tightly to his father's finger, Much to the surprise and happiness of the other people in the room. It was a moment that  signified a new beginning. Theyd been through the heartbreak and came out fighting for eachother , neither of them wanting to let the other go.

That night after everyone had gone home and Y/N was sleeping angel stood looking out of the hospital window at the stars in the dark night sky. He held his son close to his chest, feeling like he was on top of the world.

Angel could only think one thing as he looked up to the sky. "Thank you mum. I won't let you down."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

I hope you guys enjoyed it! Just want to say a massive thank you for all your support and feedback on my post! I do have other ideas In the works so should hopefully be posting more for you guys soon!

Love to you all! Stay safe in this crazy world! X

[shera-dnd]

Had to split a simply colossal chapter into two smaller ones, so here is the first of those

Now featuring the faes’ true forms and an ungodly amount of simping

“I believed we had our winner when Lady Polendina got that perfect bullseye,” Weiss retold as she walked with her companions through the festival grounds, “but Lady Rose managed to, and I still cannot believe it, split her lover’s arrow with her own!”

“I’m certain there is an innuendo to be found there,” Ilia commented, earning her an offended scoff from the would-be-knight.

“Must you?” Weiss asked in exasperation.

“Believe me, Lady Gigas, she most certainly must.” Blake assured her, “but please continue. I’d love to hear more about our favorite couple.”

“Well, after they had finished utterly humiliating me in the shooting range,” she regaled, “they decided it was time to do so again in the sparring fields.”

“What is it with you knightly folk and sparring?” Ilia asked, seemingly annoyed, “is this your means of courtship? Were Lady Rose and Lady Polendina inviting you to join them in their tent?”

“It is a means to maintain our skills while coming to better understand each other!” Weiss countered, “and just because I now know where my preferences lie does not mean I’ll fall for the first woman to best me in combat!”

“Of course,” Ilia replied, though Weiss found no reassurance in her tone, “after all that honor would fall to Lady Blake, and we all know her preference is for women two times your size.”

“I have never claimed otherwise,” Blake replied with a shrug, “now would you mind procuring us some dinner, before you make our friend pop a blood vessel.”

“Very well,” Ilia sighed, as if she had been burdened with a terrible quest, “I shall meet you both back at camp. Please, do torment the Schnee in my absence.’

She offered them an over exaggerated bow and made her way deeper into the festival grounds, quickly disappearing amidst the crowd.

“You do know I could have just made us dinner, right?” Weiss asked, annoyance clear in her tone.

“And I’m certain it would have been delicious,” Blake replied, “but I’m not certain it would have been worth your sanity.”

“Of course.”

She hated to admit it, but she did not mind this at all. In fact she quite enjoyed the little trading of barbs that they partook in every day. It made for some interesting entertainment, and it allowed her to know Ilia a little better.

She was also quite enamored with the little laughs that would escape the fae whenever she got Weiss to make a fool of herself. No, she most definitely did not wish to question why she found Ilia’s laughter to be so endearing.

Definitely not.

Weiss decided then to archive those thoughts, and focus instead on the second most embarrassing topic in her mind.

“Thank you,” she muttered as they began making their way back to camp.

“No need to thank me,” Blake waved off, “wouldn’t want you two to strangle each other.”

“No, I meant…” Weiss sighed, “thank you for calling me a friend.”

Blake offered her a soft smile that only served to embarrass her further.

“I’m glad I got to call you that,” she replied, “and I’m sure Ilia thinks the same, even if she’ll never admit it.”

That got Weiss to smile back. Her life so far had been one of isolation, she had barely met anyone outside of the few select guests her father would allow into their manor, and had failed to find anyone who cared for her with the exception of Winter and Klein. But now she had been able to adventure beyond the walls of Atlas and find people who she could call friends.

Without Ilia with them to incite arguments and pester her, the rest of the walk back to camp was held in a comfortable silence. Though Weiss certainly missed the opportunity to get back at her friend for the earlier annoyance.

“If I may,” Blake began as soon as they arrived at their camp, “would you mind if I spent the night in my own skin for a change?”

It took Weiss’s mind a long moment to register what she meant by that request, but when it did she jumped to attention.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She asked, looking around to make sure no one had heard that.

“Our camp is secluded enough,” she shrugged, “and no one ever comes here uninvited.”

“If you’re sure,” Weiss replied, “then I would not mind.”

Blake smiled at her in thanks and began undressing herself. Weiss promptly turned to look away, eyes focusing on anything but her naked companion. What followed was a series of noises that she would fail to describe, though they tempted Weiss to look back at her, if only to make sure that she’s okay.

After a moment of silence she heard the heavy thump of something heavy hitting the ground, followed by Blake’s familiar voice, “you may look again now.”

Where once stood the proud Black Knight of Vale now sat something else entirely. Her form had grown tremendously, now easily challenging that of Lady Xiao Long, and her body had grown completely covered in black fur, with a small white spot on her chest and two others on the back of her now clawed hands.

Her hair too had grown longer and wilder, and the face that hid behind it now took the features of a feline, especially her golden eyes which now reflected the bonfire’s light with an eerie glow. Behind her sway a long black tail, though mostly catlike it was adorned with thorns and purple flowers.

No, not adorned, that plant was as much a part of her body as her tail.

Stunned was perhaps not enough to describe the state in which Weiss found herself right now. She had been raised on stories of the terrifying and monstrous fae that hid in the forests beyond the walls of Atlas, and though Blake’s true form definitely fit that description, she still carried herself with the same grace and nobility that she did in her human skin.

She was still a knight, and she was still Lady Blake.

Unfortunately Blake seemed to take notice of all the staring, “if this causes you discomfort, I could change back.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Weiss assured her, “I was simply unprepared.”

Pleased with that response, Blake began to vigorously stretch herself as if she had spent many hours locked inside a tight space - a comparison that was perhaps too appropriate for her much smaller human form - and behind her her tail swayed happily.

“I haven’t been able to don this form since we arrived for the festival,” Blake informed, “it is good to feel like myself again.”

“It won’t be good for long if the local knights decide to take our hides,” the familiar and ever cheerful tone of Ilia’s voice called as she approached camp and unceremoniously dropping a basket between the two of them, “though do enjoy your dinner while you can.”

“Thank you, I certainly plan to,” Blake replied, seemingly unfazed by Ilia’s usual foul mood, “now come, sit, take off that damned glamour for once.”

Ilia stared at her, as if she was trying to will her fellow fae to stop with this nonsense.

It did not work.

“She will not give in, Lady Ilia,” Weiss said, “we’ll already be in plenty of trouble if we’re found in the presence of one fae, a second one won’t make a difference.”

Lady Ilia was unamused by Weiss’s commentary, “and what, pray tell, is your plan in case they do find you in the presence of not one, but two fae?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, standing up so she would be on the same level as her, “I’ll have a heroic last stand where I’ll fight off a dozen knights, before rescuing you on horseback.”

“Is that so?” Ilia asked, trying to keep her lips from twitching.

Weiss stepped closer.

“Oh yes, and then we’d ride off towards the sunrise and you’d…” she paused for a moment, trying to remember something, “what was it you said? Swoon and praise me for my strength and bravery.”

“Didn’t you say you held no attraction towards swooning maidens, Schnee?” Ilia teased, her smile slowly beginning to take hold.

“I’d be simply fulfilling my knightly duties, Lady Ilia,” Weiss insisted.

“You know what, Schnee?” Ilia began, with a smile on her face as she closed the ever shrinking gap between her and the Schnee, “I think I will doff this damned glamour, if only so I can watch you get skewered by those dozen knights while I flee on horseback by myself.”

“I’ll make sure to make it entertaining to you, my lady,” Weiss assured her, now face to face with the smiling fae.

A chuckle escaped Blake’s lips, earning her the most terrifying glare from Lady Ilia. The knight was, of course, unimpressed, seeming to consider a comment in her mind before reconsidering and letting it die without being voiced. A decision that Ilia greatly approved.

“Now will you please cast away that glamour of yours and relax for once,” she said instead.

“Very well,” Ilia surrendered with a sigh.

For a moment nothing seemed to happen, but then it was like the Ilia Weiss had known had shattered like glass, and what stood behind the illusion could only be described as breathtaking.

Eyes of light blue turned into pure glowing white, freckled skin turned to thousands of scales woven together into a tapestry of color. On her forehead now stood two large thorns, almost like a pair of horns, though they exuded the same regal air as a proper crown.

Lady Ilia then disposed of her - now much bleeker looking - dress to reveal a growth of leaves and vines covering her more...intimate places. Still it was not her crown nor her naked form that had Weiss in awe, it was her wings.

They were not unlike those of a butterfly, though no butterfly could ever hope to match their beauty. They were the light of her eyes fractured again and again into more colors than Weiss's mortal eyes could see, all of them weaved together in a pattern that could make even the stained glass of Atlas's grand cathedral look plain by comparison.

It took all of Weiss’s will not to fall to her knees in worship of the beauty she had been given the privilege to bask in. Though it didn’t seem she was able to completely hide her reaction, as when their eyes met she saw surprise in Lady Ilia’s face, and for a moment it was as if every fragment of color in her body had turned to the brightest of pinks.

“Should I give you both some space?” Blake asked, tail swaying slowly behind her.

“Absolutely not!” Lady Ilia shouted, sitting back down and refusing to look back at the still stunned wannabe knight.

It was now Weiss’s turn to shift through several shades of pink. She whispered a silent prayer that the gods would return to Remnant if only so the God of Destruction could completely remove her - and her shame - from the face of this world. This gave her some time to recover, at least enough that she could sit by the campfire with her companions again.

Unfortunately for the both of them that awkward tension lingered over the camp like a thick fog. It did not help that neither of them found it within themselves to look at or even address each other. They left it all to Blake to rescue them from their self imposed punishment.

“Ilia,” she called, “I believe you had questions for me.”

Lady Ilia seemed to take a few moments to recognize that she was being spoken to, but bolted up in attention as she understood the opportunity that was being given her.

“You’ve yet to tell me how you came to join the humans,” she reminded, “or why iron doesn’t burn you.”

That piqued Weiss’s interest as well. She knew Blake had to have some kind of magical trick to don her armor without burning herself alive, perhaps if she could share that secret they could use it to help those fae who wished to live among humans.

“This isn’t some trick you can replicate, Ilia,” Blake explained, killing Weiss’s plan on the spot, “this is not a weapon the unseelie can use.”

Ilia let out a sound not unlike a growl, showing that her teeth were much sharper than before.

“Not everything I do is out of spite for humanity!” She almost shouted, and her body shifted into bloody reds and harsh yellows. Though that display clearly failed to intimidate her fellow fae, earning herself only a raised brow, a reaction that caused her to change colors once more, this time to pinks and blues. “You left us. I want to know why.”

“But I have already--”

“No,” she interrupted, colors shifting over and over through her body, unable and unwilling to settle, “you don’t just change your mind like that for no reason. I want to know what happened.”

Blake sighed, tail wrapping around herself as she seemed to deflate, “this story is quite long, Ilia.”

“So is the night,” Ilia countered, “come, tell us.”

Blake looked at her, then at Weiss, who offered her her most reassuring look, “very well then.”

[pl-panda]

The vines that bind us - Chapter 5

Chapter 1 || Previous || NEXT

“Yes.” Riddler seethed. “And I really don’t like it when someone uses mine in their ridiculous stories. Now, which of you can tell me where I can find Lila Rossi?”

Some cruel part of Mari wanted to laugh. Leave it to Lila’s lies to get the attention of one of the Rogues of Gotham. And Riddler of all people. That guy had an ego the size of Amusement Mile. He would definitely not take kindly to anyone telling tales about outsmarting him. 

The kinder part, which was domineering, worried about her classmates. Edward Nygma was an unpredictable sociopath. Her mother always warned her against him. Gotham underworld could’ve been separated into three categories: Criminals, Goal-oriented, and Madmen. The first ones were usually greedy mobsters and thieves, such as Catwoman, uncle Floyd or Penguin. They were in it for profit or thrill and could easily be reasoned with. Poison Ivy often dealt with criminals when she needed something. The second category were those who had a goal and would stop at nothing to achieve it. Marigold’s mother was one of them, as were uncles Slade and Doctor Fries. The last category contained the worst part of Gotham’s underworld like Joker, Scarecrow, or Riddler, who cared only about carnage and chaos. She was always warned to stay away from them because they had no respect for anyone or anything and she would run at the risk of great harm. 

Riddler ordered his people to spread through the room. Mari counted at least two dozen. It was bad. The employees were gathered into smaller groups guarded by three mooks. The guns were ready to fire. She really wished there was at least some flower in a glass. She could feel Tikki shifting under her suit. One look at Adrien told her Plagg was similar. The kwamis were worried for their holders. Chloe was the only one calm. She sat there with crossed legs and did her nails. Her steel nerves were incredible. Or would be if it did not attract Riddler.

“You!” He pointed his cane at the blonde. “Riddle me this. What happens to a small stone when it works ups some courage?”

“Wait. You’re speaking to me?” The girl asked. Riddler was a little baffled, but the cane was still pointing right at her. “Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous!” Chloe stared at the criminal. “If you think I have time to play some stupid trivia game… I mean seriously? Stones are dead. They can’t have courage.”

Mari facepalmed loudly. Leave it to Chloe to try and antagonize a madman with a gun pointed at her. 

“Tsk tsk tsk. Wrong answer.” Riddler tried to press some button on the grip, but there was only dull sound. “What in the world?”

“Wait! I… I know where to find Lila Rossi!” Mari shouted, hoping to get Riddler’s attention away from Chloe before he managed to repair the gun. The class started to give her murderous glares. Adrien looked at her curiously.

“Oh! Do tell!” The criminal turned to her. When he hit the cane into the ground there was a loud sound of a gunshot that made everyone jump. The ground was now smoking. “Useless junk!”

“She is still in her office! I can lead you to her if you let my friends go.” 

“Ha! Do you think me a fool? As if…”

“A little boulder.” Mari interrupted him. 

“Oh. So you are smart. What about this: The person who makes it has no need of it; the person who buys it has no use for it. The person who uses it can neither see nor feel it. What is it?”

“A coffin,” Mari said with a bit of hesitation sneaking into her voice. Why in the world was she trying to save Lila again?

“Good.” Riddler looked at her for a moment. “Fine. I will go with you. But if you try to deceive me…”

“Coffin?” Mari asked with a smile. Riddler frowned so she quickly returned to the scared expression. 

The villain motioned for eight of his men to follow him and led Mari to the elevator. She was constantly at the gunpoint. Mari had to think quickly. She could try to lose them at the one fo the office levels or… she knew for certain where to find two living plants in the building. With a shaking hand, she pressed the top button. When Nygma gave her a raised eyebrow she shrugged.

“You must’ve heard about her dating youngest Mr. Wayne.” Mari lied swiftly. 

“There was something about it on that cursed blog.” He mumbled. 

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

Slowly, the machine went up. The tensions were high and Mari for a moment wondered if revealing her heritage would be enough to scare them. Ultimately, she decided to keep it as an additional shock when they got to the office. She really hoped Mr. Drake would be kind enough to hide under his bulletproof desk and not fire her when he learned who her mother was. Oh well, it’s not like she needed that job too much. 

The elevator paused one level below their destination, but the doors did not open and it refused to go higher. Her tablet started to beep. With all the stress, she forgot she had it on her the whole time.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Slowly, she opened the tablet. An icon was blinking at her. When she pressed it, a video of them in the elevator popped up. 

A large number of people without authorization in the elevator. Do you approve? Yes No

She pressed yes and the elevator started moving. She should really get some manuals for this thing. When the doors opened, she looked around. It was time for the show. She strode to the doors leading to Mr. Drake’s office. The Riddler and his mooks followed her. She pushed the doors open and immediately screamed.

“Get down!”

Rolling to the side, she pushed her powers to the limit, allowing the plants to seep her energy and grow. Vines shot from the pots and quickly grabbed the guns. Riddler, seething with anger, aimed his cane, but another vine grabbed it and ripped it out of his hand. The three strongest henchmen managed to hold onto their guns and started firing, but Mari was already safe behind the bulletproof desk. Good thing it was mentioned in the notes she inherited from Sarah.

She heard a loud cracking sound and felt that one of the plants just lost their pot. She silently promised it a more comfortable one and thanked for the sacrifice. Her green skin was now in full view. Accidentally, she pressed something on the tablet and now it showed the image from the lobby. She could see that the remaining henchmen were firing at something outside. The muzzles of their guns were flashing. Angry, Mari grabbed one of the drawers and ripped it from the desk. She leaned out from behind her cover and tossed it with full force. The projectile sailed through the air spinning before hitting the middle henchman in the center of his face. He fell down firing the gun all around the place. She could definitely hear something fragile breaking. Oh well. As long as she’s not the one paying…

The vines knocked out all but one henchman who was slowly backing away toward the elevator while firing at whatever plant got close. Riddler was now hanging by his ankles and wildly flailing his hands. The video of the elevator showed he was now there and resting. He thought her friends wouldn’t reach him. How cute!

Mari walked away from her cover and slowly approached the elevator. She heard the fashion disaster grasp when he saw her in her true form, but paid him no mind for now. She only had the vines gag him. The girl pulled the ninjato from its hiding place and smiled. When she pressed the elevator button, the criminal aimed his gun at her. She quickly leaned to the side while hitting the rifle with the palm of her hand. At the same time, she stabbed him in the leg with the sword. While he was screaming in pain she could easily rip the gun from him and then hit him with it, knocking him out. 

The bluenette looked at the gun with disgust. Clenching her hand, she crushed the barrel before dropping it on the floor and approaching Riddler. The plants turned him around and restrained his arms.

“You! You tricked me!” He shouted as soon as his mouth was uncovered.

“Yes.” Marigold smiled sweetly. “Is that a problem?”

“You… Oh no no no! That won’t do! I can stand being outsmarted by Batman. I will not be defeated by some schoolgirl with feeble meta-powers playing Poison-Iy look-alike. For a moment I thought you were her.”

“Look-alike?” the girl asked. “I don’t look that… Just because I have green skin I’m suddenly Poison Ivy look-alike?” She shouted at riddler.

“The hair is wrong, but otherwise your face is very similar.”

“What?” Not believing him, Mari walked over to where she left her tablet and looked. True, her face changed a bit. She still had some of her qualities that easily marked her as Marinette, but her face was no longer that round, instead taking a more oval shape. Her nose was now smaller and lips fuller. She really looked more similar to her mother. And yeah, the green skin made it obvious.

“You’re done preening yourself?” 

“Sure. Now let’s go back to the fact you attacked my friends and made my first day at work even worse!” Her steel gaze rested on Riddler, who felt very uneasy. The vines squeezed his wrists and ankles a bit.

Gulp! “On second thought, I have nothing against preening. The look is important after all…”

“Said the guy with Hawaiian shirt under a suit.” Mari deadpanned. “I don’t have time for this.” She asked one of the vines to smack him in his head, swiftly knocking the supervillain out. With that out of the way, she walked over to the plants and thanked each of them individually. She gently picked the one with a smashed pot and placed it with the other one. 

“Now can you behave for one night? I promise I will get both of you better pots tomorrow.” Mari giggled when both of them hugged her with their leaves. Tikki floated out of her pocket. 

“Marigold! I was so worried! They were armed and you were not Ladybug! There would be no cure if something happened!” 

“Don’t worry Tikki. I had a plan. Mostly…” She looked around the devastated office and her equally devastated workplace. 

“But now your boss will know your secret!” 

“You know what?” Mari smiled. “I don’t care. I’m Marigold Isley and this is Gotham, not Paris.”

“But the word will get out!”

“It will anyway since I’m going to search for my mother Tikki.” The girl tried to calm the frantic mini-goddess.

“Fine.” Bug-like spirit huffed before zipping around the room, passing through the head of each and every henchman, ending her trip with Riddler. “There! They will remember how you took them all down with some martial arts.” 

“You’re the best Tikki!” Mari hugged her Kwami to her cheek. The mini-god nuzzled affectionately. 

Marigold willed the green to disappear from her skin and have the hair return to normal. Eyes were always the hardest, but she got the green under some control. Quickly checking the video feed from the lobby, she saw that there was no more firing, but Police did not yet enter. They must’ve been waiting for the bat. 

Looking around, she finally realized that her boss was nowhere to be seen. Strange. She could’ve sworn he was still in his office when she left. While possible that he left shortly after, he would’ve been in the lobby and he wasn’t. The other option was that he went straight to the garage, which was possible. After all, the CEO ought to have some luxurious car. Yeah, that’s probably right. 

She pulled her phone and typed 911. Time to get some professional help. 

“Nine one one, what’s your emergency?”

“Hi! I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m on the top floor of Wayne Enterprises with a knocked out Riddler and some of his men. If you could please connect me to whoever is leading the negotiations?”

“Madame, this is not a joking matter.” The voice in her phone scolded her.

“Do you believe I’m joking? I’m standing here with a bloodied ninjato and eight men unconscious men plus Edward Nygma who decided to become a fashion disaster since I’ve last seen him.” Marigold answered in a harsher tone. “Today I had one of the most stressful days of my life. First, instead of being an intern I suddenly got hired as a Personal Assistant, then I had to explain to Lex freaking Luthor that I’m not a doormat. If that was not enough, I’m stuck in this job for six! Months! Add to that, because of some mistake in communication Damian Wayne decided to attack me with ninjato. After that Security was really unhelpful. I finish my first day of work only to have Riddler parade into the building just as we were to leave. And I had to improvise because he was about to shoot my friend who, while I love her, needs to learn to shut her mouth sometimes!” Mari shouted, putting all of her frustration and withheld anger into it.

“I’m sorry madame. I will check what I can…”

“You can connect me to whoever leads the police downstairs or I can toss them Riddler from the top of Wayne Tower.” Mari was honestly done. She would do it. Chloe said it herself that it was a tall building. 

“Listen here you little…” Whoever she was speaking to was suddenly cut off and she heard a different voice.

“Gordon here. Who’s that.”

“Are you the police officer in charge down there?”

“What you mean down there? I thought we managed to evacuate everyone from the upper floors!”

“Oh. Good. I was worried about how many people he actually held hostage. I’m on the top floor with a knocked out riddler and some of his men. I don’t exactly have anything to tie them up with…”

“How exactly did you end up up there!” The man asked. “Is batman with you?”

“He was about to shoot one of my friends so I lied to him and got him to follow me to the elevator. I used a moment when he was distracted to take him out.”

“Madame. I really hope it’s not some joke.”

“I…” She wanted to speak, but there was some static on the other side of the line

“Miss Dupain-Cheng. This is Batman.” For a moment she was unsure how to answer. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

“I need you to try and tie the men you got up there. They will probably regain consciousness soon. Do you have zip-ties or at duct tape in your office?”

“Not that I’m aware. It’s my first day. Oh! I can use their jackets!”

“Do that. Riddler’s men downstairs are unaware of what happened with you. If they get wind of their boss being defeated, we don’t know what will happen.”

“Rodger that.” She proceeded to tie them up until Riddler was the one now having his hands bound by the suit he wore. His were tied with really strong vines. She would not risk anything. “Batman? are you there?” Mari asked to her phone. 

“Yes.” Came after a moment. “Are all of them tied?”

“Yes. I used the destroyed plant for Riddler. I thought we could benefit from him still wearing his suit somehow.”

“I sent Robin your way, Miss. He will be coming through the vents. Please try not to attack him on sight.” Batman said in a tired voice. She suspected there was a story behind it, but she was too tired to care. Awkwardly, she took a seat in her chair, which now had several bullet holes but was still mostly comfortable. The waiting was killing her. She was all alone in a room full of downed henchmen.

“Um… So how is your day Batman?” She asked, wanting to break the silence. 

“...” There was no answer at first. “It was mostly fine until Nygma showed up.” More silence. “I heard from Nightwing that he would have a hilarious story to tell once he got home. I’m not sure if I should already be worried or not.”

A smile forced its way onto Marigold’s face. She suddenly thought about Batman sitting in the middle of a room with the other members of Batfam running around playing tag. She did it once with Allegra and Claude when their parents had their get-togethers. 

A sound in the vent broke her out of reminiscing. She added two more names to the list of people she would have to track now that she was in Gotham. She picked the sword and slowly walked toward the vent. Batman warned her that Robin was coming, but one couldn’t be too cautious. 

A boy close to her age appeared. He was wearing a horrendous traffic light suit. At least his cloak was black on the outside and had a hood. The outfit first Robin wore was an even bigger disaster, so there was some progress. Maybe in ten Robins, she would actually be able to not be embarrassed to be seen in their presence. 

“Miss. Please don’t point the ninjato at me.” He asked when he stood up. 

“Sure. I didn’t want to get any surprises. What now?”

“Police is monitoring the situation downstairs. They wanted to enter with full force, but with so many hostages we’re afraid about casualties.” Robin spoke in a very formal tone. Too formal for her liking.

“I have the monitoring on my tablet.” She walked to the desk and showed him the feed. “I count fourteen hostiles. They are in six groups with two to three guns each.”

“I don’t need a lesson in tactics.” The vigilante got angry.

“And about motive? One of the interns posted a video about another intern helping you guys take Riddler down. He really didn’t like it. I’m plenty certain he came to kill her in a very dramatic way.”

“That… complicates things.” Came Batman’s voice. She forgot he was still on the line.

“Miss. Do you know who is the intern he is after?” The police officer asked.

“Lila Rossi. She is one of my classmates. She is the one that is now surrounded by a crowd of young people comforting her while she is crying crocodile tears.” Mari showed her at the screen to robin. “I got Riddler to come up here under the pretense of leading him to her. The floor would be mostly empty and my boss has a bulletproof desk.”

“Tt. And what exactly was that supposed to achieve?” Robin stared at her.

“Gee! I don’t know. Maybe he would no longer be pointing his gun at my best friend!?” She looked at him. “Not everyone carries Kevlar to work.”

“Robin!” Batman reprimanded him. 

“Fine.”

“We can’t give him what he wants, especially after you took him down, Miss,” Gordon spoke. “To be frank, I don’t see it ending any other way than a full-frontal assault. We have snipers in position and SWAT ready. They are only waiting for a green light.” A deep sigh made its way through the line. “I only regret how many lives it will put on the line.”

“What if we got some of them out?” An idea formed in Mari’s head.

“I don’t see it happening unless Riddler gives the command directly,” Gordon said in a solemn voice.

“Leave it to me.” Marigold was determined to save as many people as she could. She was so decking Lila for this situation.

The small girl stormed toward Riddler. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him violently. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

“What… You! You tricked me!”

“Yeah. Get used to it.” She picked her tablet and started recording. “You will give the command to your people to let half of the hostages go.”

“Riddle me…” Before he could finish, Marigold grabbed him by the laps of his jacket and dragged him toward the large window in Mr. Drake’s office. She dropped the criminal, picked the drawer, and smashed it into the window several times. There wasn’t even a scratch on the glass, but the drawer was now chipped in several places. She looked at it and shrugged.

“I’m out of patience today. You can either give the command or I will open the window with your face.”

“Miss! I can’t let…” Robin tried to intervene, but she pointed the drawer at him. 

“Shut up. I want this day to end.”

Since Riddler was still silent, she picked him by the scruff and was about to smash him. “Fine! Fine! Fine!” He shouted. “Bring me the walkie-talkie.” He pointed at one lying close.

“Do I look like an idiot to you? Record the message here.” 

“As you want.” He leaned closer to the tablet (or as close as she was willing to let him). “Let go of half the hostages.”

Mari stared at him unamused. She dropped him on the ground and walked to where the sword was dropped. After picking it she returned to where the villain was desperately trying to crawl away.

“Miss! Please cease it at once. We do not torture criminals!”

“No. You just pat them on their back and let them go.” She deadpanned and turned to Riddler.

“Really? Oh wow. That’s just cold.” She heard from the phone. A new voice joined Batman and Gordon.

“Wait!” Riddler squeaked. “Let go the number of hostages that would be half of seventy-five if half of five was three!” He shouted very loudly.

Mari nodded and handed the tablet to Robin. He already held a walkie-talkie. After he played the message, there was some ruffle on the other side, but Mari was too tired to care. The girl grabbed her tablet from Robin and opened the feed from the lobby. She saw some confused henchmen before one of them shrugged and started pushing people outside. When Marigold noted that Adrien and Chloe were among those who left the building she let the air out. Only then she realized that she was holding her breath.

“It worked! We got thirty-three out. That’s over half of them.” Gordon shouted ecstatic. “You are a hero miss! Branden! You’ve got your green light!” 

The girl had enough. She hanged up and pocketed her phone. Still holding the sword, she walked into the elevator. Mari didn’t press any buttons, but she leaned over the wall and started whistling a lullaby her mother used to sing her when she had a nightmare.

The memory of a soothing voice that carried her to sleep many times allowed her nerves to settle. She could feel adrenaline slowly leaving her body. The tension left her muscles one by one and she slowly slid to the ground. 

“Tt. It’s safe to go down.” Robin startled her. She immediately jumped and pointed the sword at him. The boy was clearly unamused by being threatened with a ninjato… again. Mari lowered her weapon and pressed the button that would take them to the lobby. 

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

When the doors opened, Mari was quickly tackled by a missile that was a worried Chloe Bourgeoise. “Mari! What were you thinking!?”

“I don’t know… Maybe that you were about to get shot?”

“Oh… right…” That shut Chloe up easily enough. 

“Excuse me, Miss Marinette?” An older man in a brown trench coat asked. He had a neatly cut beard and graying hair. “Commissioner Gordon. We spoke on the phone.” He extended a hand

“Ah. Yes. Thank you for trusting me.” Mari nodded and took the offered handshake.

“If not for you, casualties would definitely be higher.”

“Higher…” Mari repeated weakly.

“Oh! Um… Yes. I’m sorry, Miss. Some of our men got shot in the gunfight.”

“Will…” 

“There are also… Damn.” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“How many?” She could feel her eyes tearing.

“Three civilians and four security guards...”

“Seven…” She gave a barely audible whisper.

“I know this must be hard, but…”

Marigold was no longer listening. She left the building and walked to where the class was gathered.

“I’m telling you! She must be working with that madman. You’ve seen how quickly he trusted her!” Lila was talking loudly.

“Rossi.” The girl said in an emotionless voice. Kim and Ivan wanted to stand in her way like usual, but she pushed through them without breaking a sweat. 

“Didn’t you cause enough drama…” Lila never got a chance to end that sentence, because Mari delivered a straight one strong enough to send her flying several feet back before she came crashing down. Blood pouring from her nose.

-----

NEXT

[piningfor-pinestwins]

Natural Attraction - Bruised Egos (Stan X Reader Slow Burn; Eventual Not SFW)

Your group makes it partway through the dense forest before you lose daylight, grateful for the four flashlights that Fiddleford had stowed away for this. You’re stepping unsteadily in the midst of thorny brushes and thick vines, grateful for your sturdy boots as you step on less-than-solid ground and sink into some mud. Grunting with effort as you make your way up the slippery hill, you hear Ford swear from behind you as he does the same.

“Where do you think the thing would even be at night? What kinda birds are active in the dark?” Stan’s voice comes from behind you a little loudly, leaning heavily on a stick he’d found somewhere during the trek, using it to support his weight as he goes. Ford’s head whips around to find his brother’s form in the dark, giving a harsh “Shh!” as he continues onward. Stan murmurs a quick, “Sheesh, just askin’,” as he continues onward. You follow Fiddleford’s steady light from ahead of you, trusting the man as he continues his walk, and turn to quietly answer the man anyway.

Owls, mostly. I think you have nighthawks in this part of the country, too, You inform him, shivering. You nearly run your nose into Fidd’s back, finding the lanky man had come to a stop ahead of you to hold up a branch for you, after apparently being hit in the face with it. Taking it in hand, you murmur a thank you, pointing your flashlight to the ground for the twins behind you to duck under the thing when they get closer.

Ford ducks easily beneath the thing, murmuring a thanks to you as he does. Stan isn’t far behind, though the man nearly stabs into your foot with his makeshift walking stick. “Sorry, hon,” he quickly apologizes, lifting the thing out of the soft dirt by the toe of your boot. You smile fondly despite yourself, motioning him ahead with the beam coming from your flashlight.

Get moving, slowpoke. I don’t want you to get lost behind the pack, you tease in a whisper. He catches your smile despite the dim light of the moon and chuckles himself, shifting his walking stick beneath his arm, and flashlight into the other hand. His fingers land at your elbow as he tugs you along, the warmth of the digits seeping through the teeny-tiny holes of your sweater.

“Yeah, you neither. With your luck, our superbird’ll think you’re some sorta prey.” Stan’s voice is playful, and this close you’re able to make out the features of his smile despite the darkness surrounding you. You chuckle, walking beside him with your twin flashlights and his hold leading the way. Me? What about you? You argue back, You’re the one with more meat on your bones.

He snorts at that (only to be shushed by his brother once more), careful to watch his step and not be too loud again as he moves alongside you. “What, me? Honey, I’m all muscle--the thing wouldn’t want something as chewy as me.” You laugh louder then, shaking your head, only to have the light of Ford’s flashlight pointed at you. You can make out his frown and--jeez, what is he, your older brother? Sheepishly, you give him a little wave, biting into your bottom lip.

When his light goes away from your face, Stan snickers, having found getting you in trouble amusing. You move to elbow him despite his hold on your arm, and he chuckles as he jostles you in response.

Still giggling, you take one step in the wrong direction, yelling out in fear as your heel slides the wrong way against the soft ground. The joint twists as your weight starts to fall backward, and you drop your flashlight, the sharp pain in your ankle now an afterthought to the fear of a fall down to an unseen point below.

Ford and Fiddleford turn at your cry, but Stan’s already there, the hand at your elbow quickly landing at your forearm instead. In one swift movement, he tugs you to his chest, grunting quietly at the impact of your face against his sternum, budging half a step backward with his own force.

“Fuck--are you alright?!” Stan asks breathlessly, looking down at you with worry as he pushes hair from your face. You pant as you wince, your weight coming back to your twisted ankle. Heart beating in your ears, you don’t hear him very well. Looking up at him wide-eyed, his worry only deepens. “Hon, you okay?” He repeats, and enough of your brain is back to you that you’re able to nod in response, shifting your weight against him to ease off your hurt ankle.

Stan says something to the duo coming closer, but you miss the bulk of it as you try to slow your breathing, glancing back to where you would have landed--and, as it turns out, where your flashlight has landed. The plastic thing lies muddied and flickering, left useless on some rocks nearly ten feet below. Shivering from the cool wind that blows through, and from the realization of just how lucky you’d been with Stan’s touch, you clutch a little tighter to the leather arm of the man’s jacket.

“Alright, that’s it. With me gettin’ my face smacked with a branch, and her nearly dyin’, we’re wrappin’ this walk up for the night. Soon as we get past this line o’trees, we’re hunkering down for the night.” Fiddleford insists, looking to you apologetically. “I’m sorry, I should’a said something about the drop. I saw it, but only just ‘cause my light was pointed just right.”

I-It’s fine, you stammer, ignoring your white-knuckle hold to Stan’s sleeve and shaky knees. Ford huffs a sigh, scrubbing lightly at his face, “I’m glad you’re okay. We’ll...need to make up the majority of our movement during the day, then. It’s safer that way, anyway. God forbid one of us had found that fall while chasing our creature.” Your colleague turns, murmuring something to Fidds as he points toward a clearing past the trees, the both of them pointing their flashlights to make their way.

Stan’s hand lands carefully at your lower back, guiding you as he points his flashlight to the ground. “C’mon, I’ve got you. Take a deep breath, okay?” He murmurs the words quietly, and you feel the warmth of his hand sliding up and down the fabric of your sweater. You do as he says, exhaling a shaky breath. S-Sorry, about all of this, you whisper, taking another breath as you carefully step away from him, wincing at the feeling in your twisted ankle.

To your surprise, however, the hand on your back slides down your arm, catching your wrist with a light, but firm touch. Stanley looks at you uncertainly, and your slowing heart rate decides to uptick once more at the way his cheeks darken in the moonlight. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like...W-Well, I wouldn’t mind holding onto you until we’re out of these trees. If something happens again, I can...be here. Plus, y-you’re hurt. Can’t risk a fall on a bum ankle.”

You chew into your bottom lip, grateful for the warmth of his hand enveloping your own cold digits. He’s looking to you as if asking permission, a softness in his gaze that you’ve now seen multiple times from the stubborn man, yet you can never quite get enough of. Nodding, you give him what you think he’d been waiting for, and he shifts your hand in his, his thumb and forefinger becoming snug bookends to the knuckles on your own hand.

Clearing his throat, Stan glances over his shoulder to spot the steadily moving lights of his brother and F. Shifting his weight to move toward them, he squeezes your hand to get your attention too (as though your attention wasn’t already on your joined hands).

“C’mon, we shouldn’t get too far from those two. Is your foot good enough to walk on?” Stan’s gaze searches your face for pain, the beam of his flashlight pointed to your boots before you wave his concern away with your free hand. I can walk, just...maybe a little slower than I was, you look at him apologetically and he nods, moving to reflect the change.

Now on your hurt side, Stan switches the flashlight into his other hand, quickly wiping his palm against the thigh of his jeans before he takes your hand once more. He sticks his elbow out just slightly, allowing a makeshift armrest for your forearm as he leads you to take one step, then another.

Being sure to point his flashlight to the ground, he avoids your eye, casting you a quick glance as he pulls you alongside him. You follow along easily, still trying to catch your breath from the excitement of the near-miss and the...current connection. You almost want to thank him, but from the way his eyes stay turned down from yours, he’s definitely both focusing on the ground and not looking at you.

“Easy here, honey. Lean on me while we step over this root,” Stan murmurs, and when you do as you’re told, he easily takes on your weight as you both continue walking. Legs still shaky from adrenaline, you limp at his side as he guides you toward your research partners, further into the trees.

As you step over a log, leaning into his broad shoulders to do so, you take an extra moment to adjust your hand in his by entwining your fingers. He stills the moment you do it, looking at you with an unreadable tint in his moonlit gaze, but he says nothing as you continue walking. Nerves flutter in your belly, wondering if you’ve pushed this too far--maybe this handholding really was only supposed to be out of convenience, or to make sure you aren’t any more of a klutzy nuisance during this trip…

You’re certain that you imagine it when his thumb brushes against the back of your hand. You flush when you feel him do it a second time, more pronounced than the first.

When you look at him from the corner of your eye, his profile is illuminated by the moon. His jaw is set tight, and you can make out the dark flush of his cheeks as he pulls you close once more. He notices you’re distracted, the smallest lift of a smile at the corner of his mouth, but Stan clears his throat to will it away as he murmurs something about watching your step. You hobble your way over another pair of tangled-up roots before you find yourself stepping out from the dense woods, finally finding the small clearing that Fiddleford and Ford are already preparing.

Fidds is working on a makeshift ‘campfire’ for light (made of one of the flashlights pointed at one of the large jugs of water), making the light shift like the bottom of a pool on a sunny summer day. Ford is sitting on his knees, grumbling in frustration as he wrestles with the plastic rods of the portable tent.

Despite the light (which you’re grateful for, don’t get you wrong), you wish it was closer to a real campfire. You’re cold, and the dew on the long grass around your ankles is soaking into your skin, making the chilled breezes even cooler.

“Gimme your tent and I’ll get’cha set up.” Stan mumbles, releasing your hand from his and holding it out to you expectantly. You aren’t focused on his words, looking down at his hand, meeting his eye, and then coming to the realization with a quick, Oh! as you reach to unclip the tent bag from the duffel bag on your shoulder.

He smiles a little as he takes it from you, looking at you with something like amusement in his gaze as he looms over you, just a little. “Are you going to hold up alright while I do this, honey?”

You aren’t sure if it’s the tone of his voice, or his close proximity, or the way his brow quirks as he smiles at you, but heat floods your cheeks as you nod, trying to keep your cool despite your fluster. I-I’ll be just fine, thank you.

The brunet wiggles his brows at you as he turns away, stomping down some taller grass in order to flatten the area he’s planning to prep your tent. You push your hair behind your ear, shaking your head as he drops to his knees to unzip the bag holding the tent.

Damn him. Sincerely, honestly, damn him. You’d come here to work, to focus on the astounding artifacts and creatures waiting for you in Gravity Falls. But no, instead you’re enamored by him. You rub at your face, feeling the way your mouth screws up as you try not to think too hard about it...especially when the target of your misplaced focus is just feet away, effortlessly putting together your tent for the night.

You fidget with your hands as you watch him for a moment, one thumb brushing over the palm. If you concentrate hard enough, you think as you look down at your hand, you can forget the lingering warmth of his palm against yours, or the way your fingers entwined into his, or how you’d imagine his touch would feel somewhere other than your hand...

“How’s your foot?” Ford’s voice startles you from where you’d stared off at your palm, and you nearly jolt from the tree you’d been leaning back against. A pair of polydactyl hands catch your elbows before you can lose your balance too much more, pulling you gently to rest more soundly against the bark at your back. The brunet ahead of you quirks a brow with a short chuckle, “Now, was that because of your foot, or because I scared you?

You can’t just sneak up on me! You half-laugh in response, feeling heat in your face. You hadn’t meant to be so distracted, really. Ford smiles a little wider at your words, and you can see that all-too-quiet analyzing gaze pointed your way. Despite the low light, you think he can see your flushed cheeks, and you bring your hands up to cover the warm patches on your face. He nods as if confirming something, cheeky grin only widening, “What has you so distracted, hm?” Ford asks, and you suspect he’s teasing you. The ass.

L-Looking for our mystery monster, obviously. Since the rest of you are so busy, I thought I’d keep lookout, you give one solid nod, feeling the heat only spread beneath your fingers as you lie. Nothing to report yet.

“Well, glad someone worries,” Fiddleford’s voice comes from the direction of where Ford had been not long ago, and you look over the brunet’s shoulder to see the lanky man and Stanley both hard at work to put together the unfinished tent Ford had left in poor shape.

Your tent, however, is perfectly set up and ready for what additions you have to bring into it. Ford sees the two working and gives you a secret sort of smile, offering you an arm to help you toward your shelter. “I do worry,” He argues back, careful to support your weight as you lean against your friend, “But I trust her to be our lookout. Are you saying you don’t?” He winks at you as you make your way across the clearing toward your shelter for the night, and you smile as you turn the teasing toward someone else, for once.

You really should be more upfront with your feelings, Fiddleford. Just be honest, do you trust me? You grin as you ask the playful question, turning to look as the honey-blond man sputters and flusters, “O-O’course I do! I’m not one’a those backwards thinkin’ hillbillies who--who..!”

“Easy, easy!” Stan laughs, reaching to pat the man’s shoulder, “She’s just givin’ you hell, buddy. You’re right though--it’s good to know someone cares, seeing as Ford’s too busy getting handsy with his new assistant.” Stan grins cockily toward both you and his brother, which only makes both of you fluster.

“M-Me?!” Ford sputters a little loudly, and you’d almost laugh if you didn’t know where he was going with this, “I’m not the one who’s asking about how she was in college, or--oof!” He quiets himself with a grunt, and you move to pat his back as though you hadn’t just elbowed him in the ribs.

W-Well, uh, good to know you all respect me, and...enjoy my company, you laugh a little, acting innocent even as Stan catches your eye. He’s very much fighting a laugh, having watched you silence his brother. Ford quirks a brow at you, grumbling as he rubs at a rib with his free hand, “And to think, I came over here to help you to your tent.”

And I thank you, you grin, giving the arm you’re holding onto a little pat as the man rolls his eyes. He’s smiling a little when you make it to your tent, and you take a moment to shift and hand him your duffle bag, thanking him quietly as he ducks alongside you to help you into the tent. You thank him again as he lowers you to the floor of the shelter, finally smiling your way even as he rubs at his side while dropping the duffle bag to you. “Get settled, I’ll see if Fidds’ first aid kit has one of those ammonium chloride ice pack things.”

Thank you, you repeat, fiddling with the zipper of your carryon to open the thing. As the man steps from the unzipped flap of your tent, you call a soft, Sorry for the elbow, which only makes him snort a laugh.

“I didn’t know it was a sore subject, jeez.” He teases over his shoulder.

It’s more of, uh...not a subject at all, you correct with a wave of your hand and a little laugh, quickly turning your attention to getting your folded quilt from the duffle bag. The brunet quirks a brow, but doesn’t say anything as he purses his lips and makes his way from your tent.

You hear the three chatting amongst themselves as you set up your space. It’s definitely darker in the tent than outside of it, but you manage well enough to situate your quilt and pillow in a corner of the tent, patting the blanket down to be sure it lays flat. You pat around in the duffle bag next, searching for your pj pants. When you’ve found them, you make quick work of your boots and pants, wincing as you try to keep standing with your aching ankle.

You hear a quiet swear and the sound of fumbling feet as a flashlight beam shines against the flap of your tent. “Y’decent?” Stan’s voice asks, and you yank more frantically onto your pajama pants to get them up. Y-Yeah, one sec--! You call out, tripping over your own pant leg and falling over with an ungraceful grunt.

“Shit, did you fall again, toots..?” Stan murmurs, taking the liberty to open the flap and make his way in despite the fact that there’s still fabric resting low on your thighs. By some miracle, the flashlight beam points at the back of the tent first, allowing you just enough time to yank the pants up to your hips just as the light points down to where you are on the floor. The light makes you squint up at Stan, your nose wrinkled a little as you give him a little smile. He’s smiling down at you, clearing his throat as he kneels down to meet you.

“Honey, you can’t go tripping in front of me every chance you get.” He teases lightly, putting down the flashlight near you while his gentle hands help you sit back up. You shake your head as you sit up, stretching your legs out in front of you with a bashful smile, I promise, it’s not on purpose.

“So you aren’t fallin’ for me?” Stan asks, his voice low as he searches your face, gaze meeting your own. Despite the playful smile on his face and the quirk of his brow, there’s something that makes your stomach flip. You frown despite your fluster, feeling almost like the butt of a joke. Be nice to me, I almost died, you grumble, pushing lightly against his shoulder. He leans with the push, chuckling as he moves to sit beside you. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I thought of the joke all the way back there, and...well, I couldn’t let it go.” Stan’s smile goes a little more tender, reaching over to pat your knee gently.

Stan perks up a little as he seems to remember something, patting behind him to find the plastic packet he’d brought in. “I brought you an ice pack for your ankle, if you think it’ll help. I think Fidds has some pain killers too, but you’ve gotta get some food in ya first.” You nod at his words, taking the thing from him and shaking it to activate the chemical reaction inside. I packed some snacks, actually, you look at him then, and his brows quirk as he reaches for the flashlight again to find the goodies.

In my bag, in a little tupperware with a green lid. It’s just peanut butter sandwiches, but food is food, you smile, stretching to put the finally-getting-cooler pack on your foot with a wince.

“Hopefully you packed enough,” he chuckles, tucking the flashlight beneath his chin to hold it as he digs into your duffle bag with both hands, “ ‘specially since I was your savior and all, back there, it’d be an honor for you t’share your dinner with me. So I don’t have to eat whatever F and Ford are inventing out there.” Stan teases with a glance to you and a grin. His hands stop their motion in the duffle bag, and you can see his cheeks darken in the low light of the tent.

You worry even without the confirmation of what he’s seen, sure that...well, something in that bag must have caught his attention. Y-You find the sandwiches? You question, moving slightly to check what’s in his hands before he quickly shuffles them into the duffle bag once more, “Shit--ah...Yeah!” Stan pulls the little plastic container from your bag, eyes widening at the neatly-folded pair of lacy underthings atop the box.

Your face heats as you quickly reach out to snatch the fabric away, crumpling it in hand and shoving it beneath your thigh, effectively sitting on it as you look at him wide-eyed. He fights a smile and loses, the grin on his face accompanied by its endearing dimple, both visible and tugging at your heartstrings even in the low light. “See, that’s what I was tryin’ not to do--sorry, honey,” Stan laughs, now passing the offending tupperware over for you to fidget with as he moves the flashlight to stand upright, pointing the light above the both of you to better light the tent.

Snooper, you scold him for the second time today, but this time it comes out in a mumble as you turn your attention to open the thing, a little smile on your face. You can’t be upset, you know it was an accident, but...well, despite the little embarrassment within you, there’s something else you can’t quite place.

He snorts a laugh, moving his hand up to cover his eyes, crooked smile still wide across his cheeks, “Here. Can’t snoop if I can’t see, happy now?” You glance up at him and smirk, picking up a cut half of the peanut butter sandwich and putting your hand out in his direction, waiting for him to uncover his eyes and take the makeshift meal.

“Y’know I can’t hear your head nodding, right? I need words, babe!” Teasing, Stan peeks at you from between his fingers, amber gaze falling to the sandwich half held out to him. “Oh, thanks--” He uncovers his eyes then, smiling still as he reaches for it and bites in greedily. You almost laugh, If you were so hungry, why didn’t you say anything before?

“‘Cause then one of those two would’ve told me to go hunt or somethin’,” He scoffs between bites, looking at you with humor, “Ford would’a picked me some sort of weird-looking thing to eat and said it’s ‘high in protein, just right for you Stanley’, an’ Fidds probably would’ve invented something for me to kill the thing with, like….I dunno, magic slingshot or somethin’,” Stan murmurs into his sandwich. You snort a laugh as you munch on your own half, kicking him lightly against one of his knees, They help in the best ways they can.

“Oh, sure--every way except actually hunting dinner themselves,” he laughs, moving his foot to nudge your leg back. You laugh too, shaking your head as the both of you eat. You eye him subtly, watching how he leans back against his palm, idly crossing his ankles as he looks around your (his) tent. “Y’know, ‘m glad this thing holds up good. I’d hate to think of you getting stuck with a bum tent, or just a little quilt on the ground, like you wanted,” Stan teases lightly, looking over to you with amusement as you both eat.

You shrug as you finish up, smiling as you wipe lightly at the corners of your mouth, I would have ended up fine, probably, you catch the way his gaze moves with your fingers at your lips, and you quickly glance away to warrant him the blessing of thinking he hadn’t been caught, Else fails, we’d all have just ended up cheek-to-cheek in one tent.

Stan scoffs a laugh, licking a stripe of leftover peanut butter from his thumb and sucking the remainder from the digit casually, releasing it with a quiet pop, “Like we were in the truck? I don’t think our cheeks could handle anymore squishin’ like that.” He glances over to you, catching your gaze as it drifts from his lips. Amber eyes crinkle in the corners when smirks, returning his thumb to his lips once more (you’re sure there’s no more peanut butter, and that he’s just torturing you). “Thanks for the snack, sugar, but I think I’m gonna turn in for th’night. Knowing those two, we’ll be awake way too early, and one of them will bitch all day because no one brought coffee--”

Already a step ahead of you, you grin, pointing toward your duffle bag. He casts a glance over and shakes his head, pointing that crooked smile your way, “Geez, you think of everything, don’tcha?” Stan winks at you as he moves to get up, standing hunched in the not-quite-tall-enough frame of the tent. He looks down at you, and you catch him look over your pajamas, smile giving himself away as he points down to your ankle, “Do you need any more help tonight, or are you alright?”

You shake your head, I think I’ll keep myself in for the rest of the night, thanks. As long as I don’t have to pee at some ungodly time, I’ll be fine. Stan snorts at that, taking the few steps toward the flap of the tent, “Just don’t cry to me if you end up dreaming of waterfalls,” He teases. You wrinkle your nose at the implication, but can’t hold back the laugh as you scold him for being gross, Stanley.

“Sorry, babe! You’re stuck with this gross man this whole trip.” Stan winks over his shoulder at you, grinning wider as he turns to leave, “Actually, reminds me--I should make a pitstop before I hit the boys’ tent for the night.”

Gross! You insist with a laugh, hearing him join in with a chuckle of his own. If you had a shoe nearby, you’d throw it at him. Goodnight, Stan. I’ll see you in the morning.

“See you then, babe. G’night.” He smiles in your direction, a genuine tenderness in his gaze as he ducks out from your tent. You shuffle your way to the flap to zip it closed, hearing the trio of boys giving each other hell as Stan returns to their shared sleeping space, but not being able to pick out individual words to hear what hell is being given.

Not that you mind, really; you are sleepy. A near-death experience and some….moderately embarrassing flirting will do that to a person. Using the flashlight Stan had left, you make your way to settling into your makeshift bed, remembering something from the general health class you had to take in college and using your duffle bag at the foot of your comforter as a way to raise your ankle. You fold yourself into the quilt easily, settling in for the night with a soft sigh that turns into a yawn on its way out.

Reaching behind your pillow, you pull out your journal, cracking the cover open and holding the flashlight beneath your chin as you write out some accounts of the day (and, when you remember it exists, adding the polaroid of the creature’s tracks over the terribly-drawn version you’d made). When you finish up with your entry for the day, you start to close the journal, instead seeing the pages open up to the one previous-- Stanley’s pages.

You glance to the flap in your tent, almost as if afraid he’d be standing there to catch you. You don’t know why it worries you--especially since you’ve added both a Fiddleford and Stanford page, to keep track of those two as well, but… There’s something akin to indulgence, you think, that stirs in your chest when you make an addition to this page. Today, it’s an addition to the ‘Likes’ list, (peanut butter, which truthfully doesn’t surprise you because the only food listed in the ‘Dislikes’ list is canned Spam), and today’s date with the simple, albeit shaky addition of Stanley caught me from falling into a ravine on our hike today.

Not wanting to go too into detail this late at night for fear of nightmares, you shut up the journal and return it to its place beneath the pillow, setting the flashlight beside the cushion as you turn the thing off. You settle in for real this time, tugging the blanket to your chin and exhaling a soft, slow breath to try and relax yourself into sleep. As your eyes start to drift closed, you have the inkling that you’ve forgotten something--though what it is, you’re unsure. It must not matter much anyway, as you’re pulled easily into the warm darkness of sleep.

--

It mattered.

A lot, actually.

You swear, Stan was either a medium without knowing it, or some sort of magical asshole who bestowed curses on you without you noticing. You’re swearing at him under your breath the whole way as you hobble into the woods to find a suitable spot to pee.

Much more relieved, you’re now making your way back to your tent, flashlight held tightly in one hand, a roll of toilet paper tucked beneath your arm, and your other hand outstretched to help you make your way through the trees and back toward the campgrounds. You shudder at the cool breeze that’s blown in, indicative of the upcoming cold front you’d overheard about on the television a night or two back. Finally seeing the campsite coming into view, you sigh, knowing you probably went further out into the greenery than you needed to, but….

Well, god forbid any of your research partners find you with your pants down.

Making your way closer to the campsite, you sigh, rubbing at your face sleepily. To say it had been a long day was a gross understatement; you were exhausted.

Which is why you worried that you were still in your tent dreaming, as you hear the fluttery sound of air moving somewhere near you. You look up just as quickly as you heard the noise, pointing the flashlight up to see better in the dim night light.

There’s nothing..?

Despite your rising nerves, you keep moving ahead, maybe a little quicker now as you point the flashlight to the campsite. You’re more aware of the life in Gravity Falls now; you know of the gnomes, the eyebats, the creatures who move in the dead of night who are, you think, moving with you even now. The familiar prickling feeling of being watched begins to scratch at the back of your neck, but when you glance behind your shoulder, only the darkness of the woods greets you.

A fluttering again, this time directly above you. You’re almost more hopeful than certain that you’re just hearing things, and instead of pointing the light to the sound, you motion toward your goal as best as you’re able to. You limp quickly, hearing the sound once more--closer, maybe just past your ear? You yelp in fear as your battered ankle gives way, falling into the plush grass mere feet from where you’re supposed to be sleeping. Pointing the flashlight up, you try to catch a glimpse of the thing that’s been chasing you, hoping to at least see the thing before it gets you.

Stan’s voice saying your name makes you jump from where you’re lying on the ground, whipping around to point the flashlight beam at him. He winces, blocking the light from his eyes as he moves closer to you. He must have been at least somewhat asleep, only in loose sweatpants, his hair mussed as it falls into his face. “Honey, what happened?” He asks, hurrying with his arms outstretched down to you. You’re trembling, but you hadn’t noticed, clutching close to the flashlight as you shake your head, Something was after me--i-it flies. I don’t know, you stammer, unable to get out one set sentence as his arms wrap around you. Stan lifts you easily, holding you to his chest as he looks up, trying to find the flying thing despite the dark.

“What’s going on--oh shit!” Ford’s voice calls, eyes following Stan’s gaze up just as your flashlight beam lands at the topmost branch of a tree. You feel the chest against you puff up, feeling Stan’s arms bracing around you as you hold your breath, too, looking up to try and find the source of the fluttering against your ears.

You spy the yellow eyes first, following them down to the large, feathery body of probably the biggest owl you’ve ever seen. Fuck, you whisper, all at once feeling foolish at the realization that it’s just… a common creature. Tears prick in your eyes, embarrassment and exhaustion melding into the response before you can stop yourself.

“Jesus, that damn thing--I thought I heard hootin’ somewhere in the woods, but...I dunno, I thought it’d be smaller,” Stan says, still holding you as he makes his way up the rest of the little hill that the campsite is situated on. “Even as big as this specimen may be, I don’t think it’s our offending creature at the Shack. Do you?” Ford’s voice asks you, and you shake your head, avoiding his gaze.

N-No, not at all. The tracks may be similar, but the ones back home are much bigger, you confirm, pointing the flashlight back down to watch the grass ahead. You realize that you haven’t put any weight back down onto your bad ankle, feeling the gentle brush of Stanley’s chest hair against your arm as he continues to hold you. You fight the urge to push out of his arms, especially when you feel your bottom lip wobble in protest to you trying not to cry.

You feel Stan shift his arms, the clearing of his throat echoing in his chest as he turns to face Ford. They seem to have some unspoken conversation about you while you’re pretending to ignore it altogether, and instead of listening, you hear the tree leaves rustle heavily overhead. The owl must have taken off.

“You poor dear,” Ford says, coming closer to where Stan stands with you in his arms. You’re not looking at either of them, waving Ford off with a little huff, I’m okay, it just scared me. I just need to crawl back into bed, today has b-been awful.

You bite into your trembling bottom lip, willing it still between your teeth as you give Stan a pat on his arm, signaling that you’d like to be put down. The brunet seems to understand, but hesitates, instead only slightly relaxing his grip of you. “Let’s get you back to your tent, then. You need the rest.” He soothes, taking a few steps in that direction. You give in, letting yourself be carried as you glance to see Ford (and now Fidds, who’d woken up sometime in the commotion) ducking into his own tent, rubbing at sleepy eyes and yawning all the same.

You don’t have to carry me, but thank you, you mumble quietly, stifling a sniffle as you rub your nose with the back of your hand. He shrugs, the motion shifting you as he pushes open the flaps of your tent, “No skin off my back, babe. Jus’ can’t risk you falling again. If you bust your head open, then I’ll only have these two assholes to deal with again, and I can’t let that happen.” Stan jokes, and despite your exhaustion it makes you smile, even if only a little bit. Still, the hot sting of tears wins out, and you’re only just able to wipe at your eye when the first one falls, just as Stan steps into the little tent with you. You feel him shift again to set you down, but he stops at the sound of a sniffle. “Hon, you alright?” He asks, and you can now hear the gravel that comes with sleep in his voice. You swear, you’ve never heard him be this tender, but it still sounds so familiar all the same.

Y-Yeah, you say, voice shakier than you want it to be, I just feel, uh...dumb, you laugh a little, and he frowns down at you, tilting his head to get a better look at you. You turn your head down slightly, still trying to hide under his attention, Thanks again for helping me. Again. The full situation washes over you in a wave, and you flush with your tears at the realization that he’s holding you to his chest--which would be embarrassing on its own, maybe, but he’s shirtless and you’re crying and, really, this isn’t a good look for you--

“Honey, y’gotta get outta that head sometimes,” He scolds gently, and you look up at him in confused surprise at his words. That almost makes him laugh, a little smile quirking at his lips as he guides you to your feet. “Careful,” He whispers, hands on your waist to keep you from putting too much weight on your bum ankle as you lower yourself to sit on your knees atop the blanket. You glance down, remembering the roll of toilet paper firmly tucked beneath your arm, and you toss the thing to the duffle bag, watching as it bounces off, and then lands haphazardly next to the thing.

“You had an iron grip on that thing, didn’t ya?” Stan asks, and you sniffle as you smile, After losing the flashlight the first time, I had to be sure to hold on tight.

It’s his turn to look at you with surprise, his little smile growing more genuine as he sits in the middle of the tent. He’s closer than he was when you ate together, but he isn’t imposing. He’s just...here. And that’s nice, you think.

“I’m not really the killjoy of this group, but you really should’ve said something before you left, toots. What if I wasn’t up, and you had to fight that thing all your own?” He asks, sleepy voice surprisingly a little stern. You glance over to him as you reach for your pillow, fluffing it idly before wiping a stray tear at your cheek. It’s your fault I had to go out, anyway, you argue lightly, sure his brow is quirked as soon as you say it, You’re the one who mentioned waterfalls.

“Aw, sorry, but you should know by now that I’m right about a lott’a things. It’s annoying as hell, I hear.” It is, you laugh with him, finally glancing up to meet his eye. You feel a little pitiful; foot and ego injured as you watch the kind man who both helped and hurt that cause.

Stan has this unreadable look in his eye, one you’re sure you’ve seen before, but it worries you all the same each time it happens. You glance down at your hands to avoid the shift in his gaze, but find yourself looking up again when he says your name like a quiet question, his brow furrowed at you with a tilt of his head.

“Are you doin’ okay? Today’s been...hell and a half for you, and I know you had t’be scared to death.” He reaches out, palm lying flat on the edge of the quilt beneath you, and though he leans to go with it, he doesn’t make any further move to touch you. You rub at your face with a sigh, pushing hair from your face as you start to nod.

I mean, the day wasn’t all bad, but...nearly falling however-many-feet down, and then being stalked by an owl weren’t the most fun parts, either, you admit, feeling the way your voice wavers when you do so. You shrug, smiling a little when you look at him now, and you try to ignore the way your heart pulls at his worried face, you do, but...with those amber eyes looking at you with such tender concern, you have to admit that it absolutely pulls, tugs, and twists at your heart. Damn him.

“I’d offer to take you back home, but I don’t think you’d like that. Plus, those two would get lost without you.” The brunet is careful in his word choice, something you appreciate. You reach to comfort him in the same way, reaching your hand out to lay atop his with a little rub of your thumb across the back of his hand, and his face softens a little when you reply, Absolutely they would, they don’t even know what kind of critter they’re going to face. Truthfully, neither did you, but you had theories. Though...somehow, you think, this isn’t the time to bring them up.

You can feel the energy between you shift before you see it, his palm turning upward to meet your own. The warmth of his fingers glides against your hand, fingertips curling just under yours to cup your hand with his own. He’s watching down at your joined hands, thumb brushing lightly against your four knuckles when he speaks again. “Are you, uhm...unhappy, that I keep trying to help you?” Stanley’s voice is soft as he asks the question, and you almost need him to repeat himself with the way your heart is hammering in your ears. When you don’t answer immediately, he continues, “I-I know that you’re strong. You’re very smart--well, no shit you’re smart, you’ve done all this for gods’ sakes--anyway,” He breathes, and you swear there’s a deeper color to his cheeks even in the dark here.

“I like helpin’ you. I’m not nearly as smart as you ‘n Fidds and Sixer, but I gotta be useful somehow. And you’re just, uh...easier to help, than the other two. You’re marginally less annoying, and...prettier, too.” Stan glances up then, his gaze searching through yours with an air of desperation. You can tell, there’s maybe more to be said, but his adam’s apple gives a decisive bob when he closes his mouth into a thin line. Whatever else there is to be said, it isn’t for tonight.

I don’t mind, you finally say, looking down at the way your fingers have folded nicely over his own. Your heart thuds against your chest, so loud in your own ears that you’re afraid you might shout these next words. You take extra care, then, to whisper them. I...may not like being helped, or I may get embarrassed or frustrated and run off sometimes, but...I do like you. And I don’t mind when you’re the one helping me.

You turn your wrist at an almost-uncomfortable angle to put the back of his hand upright without breaking his hold of your fingers, leaning forward just so to press a little peck to the back of his hand. Turning your hands back the right way, you look up to him, almost afraid of what his reaction may be. What if he laughs at you? Or finds you stupid, to think you could resist his charm? What if he stands now and leaves into the darkness of the wood to leave you alone and embarrassed and in need to explain the situation to your colleagues?

“Hey,” he whispers, and you realize that you’re so afraid of the what-ifs that you’ve almost missed his reaction entirely, though that’s the whole reason you looked. Stan’s face is certainly flushed, vibrant eyes forgoing their sleepiness as he looks at you with such entranced sincerity. For a moment, you think he’s forgotten what he wanted to say, but he interrupts that thought with a firm tug at your arm. Before you know it, you’re pulled off-kilter, leaning toward him, then closer, before you reach to catch yourself with your other palm against his chest.

His lips land on yours then, the gentle scratch of stubble against your face as you lean into him. This close, with your hand on his chest, you can feel the way his pulse mimics yours. You have half the mind to tease him, but the idea stutters out when the palm of his free hand slides up to cup your jaw. Stan holds you there as you kiss him, tasting just slightly of peanut butter and feeling so warm, your noses bumping together gently before he pulls back for a breath. You open your eyes to find him already looking at you, his gaze still sliding up from where he’d been looking at your mouth.

“Y-You’ve gotta get some rest, sweetheart,” He whispers, the newest petname settling itself very terrifically into the space carved into your heart by the last one, “We both should, uh...sleep.” You feel yourself nod, though you still lean into his touch against your face until he pulls it away. Stan bites into his bottom lip, clearing his throat as he pats your hand on his chest, and for once, you realize, the jokester is near speechless.

Moving your hand away from his body, he pulls your joined hands close to his face, pressing one last kiss there before his fingers release your own. Watching as he stands, Stanley pushes his hair from his face, rubbing gingerly at the back of his neck as he turns away from you and toward the exit. He stands there a moment, almost like he’s forgotten what he’d gotten up for in the first place. Though you aren’t exactly itching to kick him out, you smile as you give him the reminder.

Goodnight, Stanley, you whisper, and your heart does turns when he looks at you from over his shoulder. He’s brushing his fingertips against his lip subconsciously, the movement stalling when he meets your gaze. His dimple reappears for an instant, his smile at you wide and inviting.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I’ll see ya, first thing in the morning.”

I’ll see you then, loverboy, you tease, giving him your first pet name. It doesn’t go unnoticed (for as not-smart as he claims he is, nothing goes unnoticed with this man), and he looks absolutely giddy when he leaves out the front flap of your tent. You think that you hear him trip and swear to himself, but he doesn’t return. The boys in the tent next door begin to murmur, and you suppose he’s found his way back in there when you hear his tell-tale laugh amongst the other voices.

You touch your own lips, reminding yourself of the feeling of his own there, and your heart goes racing again. You huff a little laugh of your own, shaking your head, and realizing you haven’t stopped smiling since that man left your tent. You settle into your quilt again, still exhausted, but much less tired than the last time you’d been here. Reaching under your pillow, you find your hardback journal once again, turning easily to the pages about Stanley once more. In one swift curl of cursive, you make an addition, just under your large declaration of Stan’s name at the top of the page.

AKA: Loverboy.

[coeurdastronaute]

Fear 12

Previously on Fear

The apartment was very small. 

It was painfully tiny and nearly impossible to stretch across, but it did the job, it was a place to hide and a place to rest. A few plants took their places, vibrant and green against the mess of the room, with its dirty laundry on the floor and the lack of counter space. A bed was pushed against the window, the frame barely fit, the apartment just wide enough to accommodate it. On the kitchen counter, a few old mugs of stale coffee took up most of the space, while on the tiny desk, a stack of books and papers acted like a tablecloth. 

Elyza pushed open the door and felt the warmth as she walked inside from the rain. There was a taste to the air, there was a heat to the evening that felt like home, in a way she couldn’t fully comprehend, though she didn’t ask any questions. The window was cracked, and the hanging vine of one of the plants wafted in the breeze. 

There was traffic noises coming from outside somewhere, though she couldn’t quite place it, or really anything in particular. But that didn’t stop Elyza from walking inside. 

At the stove, Alicia moved around the pan and hummed, she moved her hips around slowly, though suddenly all the noises were gone. There wasn’t much else to do except stand there and look, and Elyza found herself searching for words, but not having much else to say, and so she watched and felt her heart grow very warm and full. 

The birds were too loud to allow her any longer with her dream. 

Real life came slowly to snatch away a perfect moment, and Elyza scrunched up her face and tried to turn away from the light that slipped in through the window. She ran her hands over her face and grunted in complaint that the first good dream she had in weeks was taken away because of some birds who got too overzealous with a little bit of sunlight. 

Even with her complaining, the body beside her didn’t move too much, unperturbed by the noises outside, still very invested in her own dream world. Elyza sighed and pressed her hand against her stomach before closing her eyes and hoping to fall asleep again. She did her best to conjure the images again, but they just played there in her brain, fragments and completely unattainable yet again. 

But she didn’t move again. Instead, she just stared at the ceiling. That was what she did for hours while attempting to not bother the other sleeping girl. If she stared long enough, she was certain she could fade away or freeze time. There were glimpses of it, she tricked herself into believing. 

For some reason, it never really mattered though. Alicia just kind of always knew when Elyza needed her. With a movement, the sleeping girl almost woke, and she slipped an arm over her middle, wiggling closer until her chin was on Elyza’s shoulders. No eyes opened as she clung to a few more minutes. 

“Sleep more,” Alicia murmured. She didn’t see it, but Elyza closed her eyes and smiled slightly, faintly, just the tiniest bit. 

“Okay.” 

“Bad dreams?” 

“No,” she shook her head and let out a big breath. “Good dreams.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” 

Alicia rubbed her stomach over her shirt and hummed, content at the news of her girlfriend’s good dreams. She kissed her shoulder and inhaled, squeezing her arms to hold the moment as tightly as Elyza had her dreams. 

“I want you to stay, please.” 

“I am,” Elyza promised, shifting only to kiss Alicia’s messy hair that tickled her nose. But still she kept there and waited-- for what, she wasn’t sure. 

“Tell me about the dream?” 

“It was before. You were dancing barefoot around my old apartment and cooking dinner.” 

“That’s it?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I like socks. Tell your brain that for next time. Better to slide around in.” 

Elyza snorted and kissed her again, this time leaning her chin against her head and hoping that she might fall asleep once more. She knew it wouldn’t happen, but she didn’t care. She just didn’t want to be awake. 

XXXXXXXXXX

The sun snarls directly overhead in the mean kind of noon that comes despite the remaining haze from the half-dead city. Elyza drags her forearm across her forehead, the mix of blood and sweat forming a nasty mess on her arm that she wipes on her pant leg. The grunge of her hard work seems to be less that it was before-- something she’s noticed of the dead and how skeletal most were now. It either meant no one else was dying, or there were no more people to die. 

The remnants of the small group of walkers pile up to her shoulders as she pulls the bandana down from nose before pulling off the thick gloves. The killing them part was always more fun than the clean up, but here she was, still doing it. A janitor of sorts. She chuckled at the imagery. 

From her back pocket, she pulls out a cigarette, carefully putting it to her lips and lighting it with her old lighter. The smoke puffs into a cloud before drifting away as she snaps it shut and puts it back in her pocket. She doesn’t inhale it, and quickly pulls it from her lips after a moment of hanging there. She very much wants to smoke, but can’t convince herself to do it. It’s the habit, just as much as these fires are habit. Ritual, perhaps, would be a better explanation. 

Twenty-eight more notches to go on with the count, she observes, leaning on the shovel. The parking lot is quiet, though some gulls can be heard in the distance on their way back toward the bay.

With a small, proud nod, she tosses the cigarette onto the puddle of gas and takes a step back as the pyre goes up in an instant.

She doesn’t like watching them burn. It feels oddly intimate, as if she is forgetting some key step, as if she should say something. Often she doesn’t. Occasionally, she’ll mutter some prayer from the recesses of her mind, tugged out of the archives from her years in the orphanage’s school. Lately, she likes to forget that they’re people. She has to remember everyone back at the compound. She reminds herself that it is for them and not for herself, even though a tiny bit of rage seeps into this. Her retribution for those taken from her. She seeks her pounds and pounds and pounds of flesh as payment. 

With a clunk, the shovel gets tossed in the back of the old pick up and Elyza grabs her coat hanging on the tailgate. She has plans for the day, and she has a tight schedule to keep if she is going to save the world. A foolhardy task, she knows, but at this point, foolhardy is all the world has left.

The truck complains, gurgling as she shifts gears and heads in the opposite direction of the compound. As much as she does everything for them, she can’t quite stand being near the people that forced themselves into her being. She never wanted to be responsible. She just wanted to save the world. 

But she knew how to survive on the road. She preferred it. 

The apartment they picked was in an already vacated section of city that didn't’ attract many walkers. Elyza parked a few blocks over and walked, carefully lugging the backpack full of supplies and checking for anyone else. But all was clear despite the nagging feeling Elyza could never seem to shake. 

Sometimes she liked to pretend she was coming back from class to see her girlfriend in their shared apartment. Sometimes she liked to imagine they were married and would debate what to get for dinner-- their favorite place or try something new. Those nagging moments of before crept in, stemming from the time they were apart, when Elyza allowed herself a reprieve from searching to hide in made up places. 

But they were here, and it was now, and she carefully knocked before entering their little slice of the world. 

“You left early,” Alicia complained, looking up from her book. 

“Wanted to go look for a few things. 

“How many?” 

“Just a few,” she shrugged and tossed her bag on the table before crawling onto the couch between her girlfriend’s legs, flopping onto her chest, burrowing there soft and clumsy. 

“Mmm,” Alicia hummed, knowing it wasn’t the truth but accepting a few white lies. She learned that Elyza needed them to survive; accepting them as acceptable as long as she could spot them. 

She rubbed along her girlfriend’s back, the shirt still damp from sweat and her trip. She slipped beneath the fabric of the shirt and traced the spine and muscles there, snug beneath her skin. 

“Are you ready to go back yet?” 

“Not yet.” 

“Me either,” Alicia promised. “The trucks almost full though.” 

“We can get more stuff.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I got you something.” 

“What else could I want? I have the third floor walk up with an ocean-view in a trendy neighborhood I always wanted.” 

Elyza moved only slightly, pushing herself up and reaching behind her back. With a face she tugged and brought a fist back between the two of them. She had a smile that Alicia liked, ignoring the hand and whatever was inside. 

“I found it… a long time ago. Before you were…. When we lived on the rig.”

She twisted her palm and let the necklace dangle from the chain hooked on her finger. It swung between the two of them. 

“You got me this all that time ago?” 

“You went up and got yourself kidnapped so I couldn’t give it to you.” 

Alicia rolled her eyes but smiled as she played with the charm on the end. She looked it over and toyed with it. 

“It’s pretty.” 

“Thought you might like it.” 

“Can I put it on?” 

With a nod, Elyza sat up and waited for her girlfriend to do the same. When she did, Alicia pushed her hair to the side and let her clasp it there. She pressed it against her chest, as if telling it to stay put and never move. The weight of it was minute against her neck, but it was there, and it was new. 

“I love it,” she promised, leaning forward to kiss Elyza. “You should go shower.”

For a moment, Elyza didn’t move. She just stared at the necklace on Alicia’s chest. Almost bashfully, she lifted her eyes only and thought about something, though Alicia couldn’t quite decipher the look. And when she couldn’t, she cocked her head to the side and she rubbed her thumb along the jaw there. 

“I’m going to go shower.” 

“Okay.” 

XXXXXXXXXX

They stayed away for six months or so, because it was easier. Elyza went about the task of cleaning as best she could,t aking to it like a job, like one she refused to take any time off from at all. They lived a relatively normal life, considering it was the end of the world. Trucks were left at the drop point close to the cabin and they slept in a bed together every night. 

Elyza worked through things in her head, turning it over again and again. So she enjoyed the killing of the already dead. It made it easier to focus and think about anything else. It was a monumental task, to find herself amidst the deeds she’d done, and so she turned to words and books, inhaling them at every step, staying up late while Alicia slept beside her, the candle burning low into the night. And she’’d read them every day, as if she could find a manual for being alive. 

Beside her, Alicia watched the voracious way at which she studiously attacked life, and though she couldn’t fix it, she watched the burden fluctuate on her back. Though she couldn’t do anything, she fought as hard as she could to help. 

But they couldn’t stay away forever. 

The morning the clouds rolled in, Elyza sat down to breakfast by kissing her girlfriend’s forehead and simply muting those words aloud. 

“We can go back.” 

Alicia looked up from her oatmeal and furrowed, confused by the sudden thought. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I don’t want to stop what I’m doing,” Elyza decided. “But we should go back. God only knows what they’re doing anyway.” 

“We can stay if you’re not sure.” 

“No. You want to go back, and it’s not fair to keep you away.” 

“But you needed time.” 

“I don’t know what I need,” Elyza finally admitted. She was sheepish about it, about admitting and talking. “But I think we need people. They might need us.”

“They might,” Alicia nodded. 

They sat, drinking instant coffee. Alicia looked the surly girl beside her over, wondering what it all meant. There truly was no telling what happened in her head, or how she got from point A to point B, just that suddenly the blue in her eyes was earnest beyond reproach. 

“I’ll go out to gather some supplies,” she muttered, leaning forward to kiss her girlfriend’ once again. 

Alicia leaned back and watched her disappear. The thunder rumbled in the distance and she knew from experience that it was a bad time to be out and to travel. She would have to delay them a day or so until the storm passed. 

Never one for premonition, Alicia couldn’t help but think that something was wrong in the air. She wanted to blame the humidity and the storm and the uneasiness it caused, but it ran deeper than that. 

She decided they would visit the Colony first.

[kidney9-9]

Time Trap (Peter Parker)

Happy Halloween! I hope you’re all enjoying today! This is a witch!Peter Parker smut oneshot, and I wanted to add a note before you read it. The magic described in this is similar to movie magic, and a lot of the terms I use are just words that you’d hear in fantasy/magic movies or shows like the Harry Potter series, Hocus Pocus and etc. Peter Parker and Reader are of legal age in all my stories, please read the warnings before you read. This oneshot is set after Endgame, everyone is still alive and well. 

Masterlist is linked in my profile, as well as the google form to join my taglist. You can either fill out the form or send in an ask. Tags are in the reblog, and requests are opened. 

witch!Peter Parker x non-magic!Reader (Smut with plot) (Strangers-to-Lovers) Warnings: Descriptions of magic, fire, ashes, entities, curses, swearing, smut, sub!Peter, dom!Reader, oral recieving (male), magic blindfold, pet names/nicknames, floating sex, table sex, unprotected sex, teasing/edging and aftercare Word Count: 6.5k

You adjusted your jacket as you glanced into the mirror momentarily. There was a company party tonight in a new restaurant, and you were hoping to somehow get good news about whether you’d be promoted soon.

You had on a black dress to celebrate the night of Halloween, and you had some heels on as well, just a regular old pair you use for work. You really didn’t want to go; you’d rather want to stay at home and binge scary movies with a bucket of candy by your side.

You stepped out the door, locking it and tossing it into your purse before you glanced down to your phone, noticing the time. You were a bit early, but you wanted to make sure you were on time in case you hit traffic. The restaurant was farther away than you thought it would be. It was almost in the middle of nowhere, past a few warn down streets about thirty minutes away.

You got into the car, glancing into the mirror as you fixed your hair. You started the car, and buckled in, turning the music on to your favorite station. You nodded along to it, smiling slightly as you past by some of your favorite shops, realizing you needed to get some Chapstick soon. You didn’t have any time to stop though, and instead continued to drive, getting closer to the restaurant.

It was almost twenty minutes later when you get there, and you felt as though it was only a few seconds because of your music. You got out the car with a sigh, quickly grabbing onto the paperwork from the other seat, and pushed it into your bag.

You weren’t sure if you were going to be talking business tonight or not, but you needed to be prepared. There was a dull sound of music coming from the restaurant and you groaned, not wanting to deal with it.

Before you walked in, you glanced down the alley curiously, realizing you had a lot more time than you thought. When you saw a glowing yellow light appear down the alley, you furrowed your eyebrows, wanting to see what was there.

Now, if you had common sense, you wouldn’t go down an alley, but you shrugged off all the warning sirens going off in your head. The light had brightened considerably, causing you to squint your eyes together and pause, looking behind you. The alley was empty all around, just a few trashcans and some old junk on the floor.

You felt an odd sense of comfort as you walked closer, and when you realized the lights were cute fairy lights hung around a wall, you let out an amazed laugh. They were adorable butterflies, and you swore they were real. The string around them was glimmering as well, and you giggled when a butterfly spotted you.

You hesitantly put your hand near the butterflies, feeling shocked as one landed on your arm. That’s when you noticed the door behind all the butterflies, and you let out a gasp as one of the butterflies walked up your arm slowly.

It was magic, you just realized.

It’s been a while since you last saw magic around here. The city you lived in had grown away from its magical roots, instead opting for an advanced humanistic way of life. You were born without magic, but you always found it incredible. There were magic lessons at school, but you only got to take the history of magic since you couldn’t preform anything. None of your family was able to do magic. And you only had one friend who could, but it was a hard task to even cast a spell. Unfortunately, you hadn’t seen as much magic as you’d like here but you had a special feeling about behind the door, with the butterflies.

The wall was covered in greenery as well, potted plants were on the floor and as you knocked on the door, it opened slightly. You realized it was a shop as you glanced up, seeing the bell ring as you walked in. Plants were strung up on the ceiling, vines hanging down above you in various beautiful colors. You awed up at them, twirling around in a slow circle as you stared up at the luscious plants, furrowing your eyebrows as you saw some that you didn’t recognize.

Your attention went down to the bookshelves, to the side of the room when you noticed they also towered up to the ceiling. You gasped in wonder at the variety of books, seeing some with marks or languages you’ve never saw before. You walked towards it slowly, still taking in the shop, and reached out for one of the books. You slid one out, noticing the dust on it, and scrunching your nose up in disgust from it. You quickly blew the dust off, coughing when you breathed some in.

The label was something you couldn’t tell, it was in another language, almost resembling ancient runes. As you slowly opened the book, you flinched, glancing up when you heard a shout. “Hey!” He yelped out, and your eyes bulged back to the guy.

Fuck, he was… attractive. Way more attractive than most of the guys you’ve seen here. You felt yourself freeze as you stared back at him, suddenly self-aware that you probably shouldn’t have been here, even though it was a shop.

“…Hi.” You replied after a pause, before glancing down to the book as you felt it burn up in your hands. If you weren’t already shocked, you felt insane, dropping the book instantly as it flew into flames, almost catching your skin.

Regret and guilt pummeled into you, as you and the guy watched the book burn up onto the floor. The flames were bright blue, and only in a specific area and you gasped as ashes flew up back into your hands. Shit. If you learned anything in those history of magic classes, it was that anything that’s even close to that, it’s powerful.

What you just caused was a disaster.

“I- who the heck are you? What book did you just touch? How’d you get here?” Peter rambled out as he rushed across the store frantically. Your shoulders lifted slightly in shock as you gazed down into your hands, watching as the ashes swirled magically in circles over your palms.

“Me?” You paused, pushing out. “Nobody- yeah, no one I think, um.” You stopped again, shaking your head as he stood close to you, furrowing his eyebrows in anger as he realized what book you touched.

“Do you know what you did…?” Peter questioned, voice trailing off in fear as he wondered how in the world, he was going to fix such a thing. You shook your head back at him anxiously, feeling the ashes trail upwards, following your veins on your arms.

“Please help- what is this thing?” You whimpered out as it spread upwards, crossing your elbows. You couldn’t even more your arms anymore, the ashes paralyzed them as it moved towards your head slowly. He sighed, wiping his head as he thought of what he should do.

“How come you don’t know what this is? You just cursed yourself and- and the rest of the area!” Peter scolded you, stuttering as he kneeled, trying to find if there was any more ash on the floor. It seemed to have all drifted to you, floating around you and on you.

You felt your nose wrinkle back at the guy, “I don’t know what this is! What do you mean I cursed myself and the area? What do you mean by area?” Your voice raised as the ashes drifted up to your shoulders.

In an instant, Peter smacked both of your hands, getting you out of your paralyzed state, and causing the ash to fall back onto the ground. He shook his head as he sighed again, “You just released an entity that stops time. That entity is clinging onto you, but it can’t stop the time in here because of the protection spells I put up. But, outside, everything is paused because of you now.” His explanation made you tilt your head and feel dizzy.

You denied it instantly, “You’re just messing with me! It’s just- it’s a stupid gravitational trick you use, isn’t it? Aren’t those illegal now?” Your mind spun as you tried understanding what just happened as Peter rolled his eyes back to you.

“No, it’s not. And by area, I mean everything within the city limits. Protection ruins are surrounding in the city limits, there’s no way it could get past them.” He described, raising his eyebrows as he wondered how long he would be stuck here for. He couldn’t go outside, because the curse would affect him instantly.

“Why aren’t there ruins in here then? How did we not get affected?” You asked, taking a step back as the dizziness doubled. You leaned up against the bookshelf causing him to flinch and tug you back. His hands surprised you from the warmth as he pushed you against the wall to lean on instead. He walked back to the bookshelf, shuddering as he tried looking for something to solve this.

“Ruins within a city’s limits will cause disruptions. Protection spells aren’t very effective unfortunately. A curse will bump around to somewhere a place isn’t bounded with a protection spell that’s made for the curse.” Peter explained, closing his eyes in irritation.

“And because magic isn’t as… well known here anymore, protection spells for such a specific curse isn’t seen here- except for my shop because I was holding the curse.” He finished up. You let a noise of surprise, turning your head back around to the door.

“Can’t we just open the door then? To let the protection spell, go throughout the city?” You whispered, already knowing the answer. It wasn’t possible. Protection spells didn’t have such a wide area of protection, instead just in a room that it’s placed in, or on the person.

Silence poured between the two of you for moments after that. You didn’t know what to think of, but everything was spilling into your mind, ranging from boring moments in a morning, to just before you walked in here. You stopped though, once the guy spoke up again, “I’m Peter Parker, by the way.”

You nodded back to his introduction but couldn’t find yourself to smile, “I’m Y/n… I’m not a witch.” You shrugged back, causing him to let out an unamused chuckle.

“Yeah, I know. Don’t see you at the weekly secret witch club.” He responded, making your eyes widen, “There’s a secret witch club?!” You asked, dropping your jaw in shock but then you pouted, realizing he was joking. If there was a club, it wouldn’t be secret.

Peter let out a laugh back to you, trying to stay on the more positive side of this. It wouldn’t be good to be stuck in here with someone you didn’t like, and he had a feeling it would be awhile before either of you would be able to leave. If only he had a portal to Tony’s home, it would’ve been solved already.

He had no idea if he had the ingredients to even make such a powerful spell to break the curse and drag the entity back into a hold. It didn’t matter if it was a book, or a toy, it just had to be something that was strong enough to keep it in there. When you opened the book, it instantly broke the spell, which Doctor Strange had given him as a lesson.

“Be safe with it. I don’t want to hear you froze time. If you keep it closed until I come back, you’ve learned your lesson.” That were his exact words to Peter, which Peter didn’t exactly fail- but you were the one to open the book. The blame would still be put on Peter though, for not being out in the shop at all times, and for having such a book in a public bookshelf.

It was fair for him to think it was safe to put it there since not many people come here. And those who do, know exactly what that book can hold. It was odd that you found your way into the shop. You were the only one that wasn’t a witch that’s come through the door.

“Do you want some coffee? Or a sandwich?” Peter asked, pushing himself out of his thoughts as you cleared your throat. You bit your lip before opening your mouth to answer him.

“…How long are we going to be here for? A few hours?” Your questions made Peter’s eyebrows raise. He huffed out a short breath, as he walked closer to you.

“Weeks, at least.” His whisper made you shiver in terror at the sheer amount of time. How would people from outside the city limits even be in contact then? You gulped, realizing the protection ruins on every city was essentially a protection for those outside the city- and a trap for those in it.

“What the fuck!” You spilled out, jumping slightly. Peter nodded solemnly, before he walked towards the back of the store, where you first saw him. You nervously fiddled with your hands before you followed him, “So that sandwich you were talking about?” You called out, knowing you needed to get a handle of the place, and figure Peter out if you’d stay here for so long.

The guilt hit you as you chewed on the sandwich Peter magically made. That was one concern out of the way, that he could conjure food and water out of nowhere while the two of you were stuck in here. You didn’t even know how to trap the entity and start time again, but Peter explained it to you while you were eating. You kept thinking about if you didn’t decide to go down the alley, you would be hearing from your boss if you would be promoted soon.

The next few days were a blur, and you tried to avoid Peter like the plague, even though you really did enjoy his company. You felt too embarrassed that this mess was all caused by you, and you could remember how angry he was when that happened. You didn’t want to upset him even more. He let you use his bedroom in the meantime, as he started studying and trying to fix it. He even let you wear his clothes, which you were very thankful for. They were really comfortable on you.

You didn’t know where he slept but you hoped there was a comfortable spot for him. You were practically a ball of guilt and regret that you stole his room, basically invaded all his things. There wasn’t a room that you haven’t wandered into here, and his room was your favorite part of it all. It was beautiful, floating candles would drift around you as you laid in the bed, instantly relaxing you even more into a deep sleep. There was dull light from the sunset steeping in from the tall windows above you, but you noticed because of the glamour Peter casted before, all of this was disguised in the alley.

The main colors of his store and the room were red and gold, but greenery stuck out, and plants were almost everywhere in the back. It was interesting to see absolutely everything, and you realized how much fun it would be if you were a witch.

And Peter himself… you were amazed by his beauty every day you saw him. His hair was a dark golden brown and his curls- you found yourself wanting to reach out to run your fingers through them a lot. His smile was kind and adorable, but you didn’t see it often because you tried to avoid him most days. Sometimes you tried to prep yourself up, to apologize but it was so difficult. You had no idea what kind of life he lived other than the fact he was a witch, and you wanted to know more, but you didn’t want to push him.

Today you wanted to try out with small talk with him, or just some simple questions like “How are you?”, that would be easy to ask. You didn’t know if going even further would be the greatest idea, but you’d see after this conversation.

“Hey Peter.” You greeted nervously, leaning against the doorway into the dinning area. He hummed back momentarily, distracted by the book he was reading before jumping in his seat, realizing you were there. He grinned to you slightly, and you smiled back, trying to stay positive. His outfit today made you gulp, finding it more than just attractive.

“Uh, hi, how are you?” He questioned, biting the tip of the pencil he was holding onto. You pouted slightly, hearing the question you wanted to ask him first.

“I’m okay, but,” You paused, quickly rambling out, “I’m really sorry about what I did, it wasn’t right for me to do that, and I want to- you’re just a kind person and I’m sorry this happened. I shouldn’t have come in, and now,” You stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening as you saw a rose dip down from one of the ceiling plants and opening up in front of your face.

“Woah…” You trailed off, not seeing how Peter stood up, smiling brightly at the scene. He chuckled as you reached out and touched the beautiful rose, watching it change colors at your touch.

“Do you like it?” Peter asked, enjoying your reaction. 

Your eyes momentarily went to his, nodding excitedly, “How is this even possible? I thought plant magic was hard to learn…” You spoke up, bringing the rose down to your nose to sniff it. You tried not to tug on the stem so much, in fear it would hurt the plant.

“I had a mentor back in high school actually. He taught me everything I know.” Peter responded, voice dipping down slightly as he was reminded of Tony. He tried calling or reaching out to him so many times within the past few days, but he got no response. He had a feeling that he was out on a mission, but he wasn’t so sure.

“Mentor?” You replied after a few seconds, gazing back to him. Your attention was fully on him now and he blushed, seeing a few more flowers had dropped closer to your figure, behind you. It had been awhile since he’s stayed with someone for this long, but he still wasn’t used to you being here. You were now just speaking to him, and he was excited.

“I- yeah, Tony Stark, maybe you’ve heard of him?” At the mention of Tony Stark, your jaw dropped. Tony Stark aka Iron Man? A witch? He was one of the people that supported the growth of humanity without the use of magic. You were surprised at the thought.

Peter chuckled at your reaction, “Yeah, he taught me everything when I lived in Queens.” Your eyebrows furrowed at Queens, quickly connecting the pieces together of Spiderman sightings. It was quite a shock to you and so many others when Spiderman stopped crime fighting in Queens, and started here instead, and now you knew who he was…

Hold the phone – you were speaking to Spiderman right now, who’s a witch.

“Peter! You’re Spiderman? Wait that makes no sense, why did you even come here?” You rambled out, stepping closer to him curiously. He nodded back to you, shrugging internally about the fact you found out. Sure, it was supposed to be a secret, but he barely worked as Spiderman now anyways. He had trouble after the last war from almost losing everyone and took a seat back on the whole Spiderman act. Instead, he focused more on witchcraft, and eventually opened shop here.  

“Yeah, uh, you know just wanted to catch a break,” He tried to shrug it off, but you let out a surprised laugh, smiling widely.

“That’s insane! Are there any other things I should know about?” You asked, quickly forgetting your shyness and worry about pushing his boundaries. Peter was happy to see you opening more to him through this conversation.

You stepped closer when you noticed a flower had landed behind his ear, and you giggled at it. Peter’s eyes widened momentarily, feeling your hand reach forward and gentle brush past his ear, and blushed harshly. You didn’t notice, instead you brought the flower up to him, watching as the bud opened together.

“It’s so beautiful…” You murmured, trailing off and away from your excitement from before. Peter smiled as he gazed at you, “Yes, very.” You glanced back up to him, face softening as he smiled even more.

“There is actually something you should know. If all goes well, the spell should break within the next two weeks. I need to prepare the things for it.” He spoke up, instantly leaning away from you as he felt his face heat up even more.

You were so very beautiful, and he reacted like that just by one conversation with you. He couldn’t believe it, and he hoped you didn’t notice his embarrassment.

You nodded back to him, glancing back up with a smile. “Does this happen often? On a less dramatic scale?” The question made him laugh out of surprise, shaking his head.

“I think this is one of the most dramatic things that have happened… do you walk in alleys often?” Peter joked back to you, making you groan and shake your head. You were thankful you could talk to him right now.

“Mm, only if there’s pretty boys there,” You instantly replied, before clasping over your mouth. Shit, you really didn’t mean to say that. You groaned, closing your eyes and sat in the chair as Peter gazed back to you with a shocked expression.

“You think I’m pretty?” He whispered after a moment, turning a light pink as he turned away from you, trying to get the color out of his face. He walked back to the other chair, across from you, glancing away as you peeked back at him slowly.

“Are- are you blushing right now?” You giggled back, trying to recover from your slip up. Peter’s eyes widened as he denied it, sliding the book back towards him, “No! That’s just the lighting, you know.” His shirt was causing the blush to look even brighter than it was as well, making you smile more.

You giggled even more as he pushed the book into his face, finding it cute that the both of you were embarrassed. “Do you always blush when people call you pretty?” You mumbled after a moment of silence. Peter dropped the book as he gazed back at you, turning even a darker color.

He grinned back at you, playing along with your game. “Only when a pretty girl tells me.” He used your words against you. You laughed out of surprise, shaking your head and leaned your face into your hand after you propped your arm against the table.

You were much closer to him than before, as you leaned in, and his eyes widened slightly. “You think I’m pretty?” You used his words this time, murmuring them as you gazed back, letting your face soften from the laughter. Peter let a smile beam through, as he pulled his chair closer to the table.

“Of course, I do, you’re perfect.” He responded. You both knew what he said was a lie, he barely knew you, but you decided to fuck it anyway. You leaned in, closing the distance as your lips barely touched his.

He could feel only the fainted outline of your lips on his, causing a shiver to go through him. “May I kiss you?” You whispered slowly, glancing up to his eyes before gazing down to his lips again, close to fluttering your eyes shut. Peter didn’t bother responding, instead, opting to kiss you instead. His lips moved against yours in an instant, memorizing every feeling he got from your lips.

Your eyes shut as you moved your lips against his in a slow and passionate way, bringing your hand around his head to pull him closer. His tongue slipped out, licking across your bottom lip in a slow movement causing you to open your mouth. His tongue met yours as the kiss got sloppier, and your fingers curled into his hair, tugging and playing with it as the kiss deepened even more.

Peter’s hands frantically pushed away the book on the table, between the two of you as he pulled away from you. He breathed heavily, standing up as you gazed at him with lustful eyes. You stood up after him, as he walked around the table, tugging you close again. 

His kisses were rougher this time, and one arm moved under your shirt on your backside. You gasped at his hand, and pushed yourself closer into him, finding your position back into hair, and behind his neck. You slid up onto your tiptoes in amazement from his kissing, as he sloppily found his way down your neck.

His tongue swirled around your sweet spot on your neck, sucking it loudly and causing you to clench your eyes shut even more. You shifted your legs together as you felt a warm sensation spark down to your core. 

You took a risk and grinded against Peter, pushing him back against the table. Peter gasped against your neck, as you pushed him to sit on the table, sliding in between his legs and tugging his head up to kiss you again.

You grinned into the kiss when you heard him whimper as you hutted your hips against his. It was only after a few minutes of kissing you felt his boner poke against your core as you grinded again. You let out a sigh into the kiss, pulling away to breathe and you let out a slow chuckle at Peter’s puffy lips and dazed look on his face.

“You good there, babe?” You whispered, wanting to make sure he was still okay with this. You wanted consent before you did anything else, it was something important to you. 

Peter’s face was pinkish as he gazed back up to you, “Yeah, I- woah, yeah.” He mumbled back, dragging you back in for another kiss.

You giggled into the kiss, moving a hand down to his crotch, and smoothing your hand over it. You hummed as he gasped against your lips, eagerly kissing you even more now. You unzipped his pants after struggling with it for a few seconds, and pushed your hand underneath his boxers, instantly feeling the warmth of his skin. 

You let out a slight moan as you felt the size of his cock in his pants, and you gently pulled it out. His cock hit against his shirt, causing the both of you to break the kiss, to get his clothes off.

You and Peter laughed quietly in excitement as he tugged his shirt off and you slid his pants down, taking off his shoes as well. You made sure to slide your hands all over his skin, drifting your fingers close to his inner thighs, and smiling as you heard his breath hitch at your movement. You smiled, sliding your hands back up, but passing his aching cock to tease him a bit.

“Please…” Peter trailed off, choking a moan out. 

You grinned back to him, kissing up his neck as you whispered, “Please what? You got to tell me what you want like a good boy.” He nodded back to you, enchanted by your words as if you were the witch here instead of him.

He ate up every action of yours, answering your question, “I want you… to touch me, please.” He whispered, feeling slightly shy. You smiled to him, moving back to kiss his lips again and sighing in pleasure.

You wrapped a hand around his head, picking up loads of his precum and sliding a finger up and around teasingly. You then pushed your hand down, after you collected lots of precum to cover his thick cock. You pulled away from the sloppy and slow kiss and bent down slowly, “Is this okay, good boy? Do you want me to kiss you here?” You questioned, using a soft voice.

Peter’s head tilted back as he nodded and groaned out, “Yes please!” You grinned at his reaction, seeing the sweat trail down his abs. You used another hand to drift a few fingers into his skin, pushing in random shapes before you gave his cock a kitten lick.

“Oh, you’re doing so good and you’re so responsive, baby. I love it, I want to hear more. Tell me exactly what you want me to do.” You responded, moaning against his cock as you give him a long stripe from his base and back up to his head, before swirling your tongue again. You kissed the vein slightly, before you trailed back to the tip with your tongue again.

“I want you to do that- I want you to swa- swallow me please.” Peter cried out, stuttering in lustful desire just as you widened your mouth and pushed down. You went as slow as possible, moaning for exaggeration. Peter shuddered as he felt your moan vibrate through his cock, sending him days of pleasure.

“Please- fuck- you’re so amazing- oh my.” Peter rumbled out just as your eyes started to water from his cock hitting back against your throat. You moaned again, noticing his reaction and started to pump the rest of his cock that you couldn’t reach with your hands, drawing the spit out of your mouth.

As you gazed up to Peter, you could see shimmers drifting around him in gold and pink, and purple, you couldn’t tell how many colors there were, but it was wonderful. It painted against his expression, bubbling up even more as you etched him closer to his orgasm.

Just as he was about to burst through, you pulled your mouth and hands away, leaving him high and stranded. “I- shit, I was so close,” Peter cried out, gazing back at you. A laugh bubbled out of you and you shook your head, “I never said you could cum, baby.” You responded.

Peter shivered in excitement back as he felt pleasure course through his body even more with your words. He’s never experienced anything like this before, but this was the most he’s ever enjoyed himself during sex. It was incredible.

“Please come here,” He asked, softening his expression as he saw you sit up. Spit was all over your face, but he didn’t care as he pulled you in for another kiss. This one was more of a desperate kiss, passion seeking for more, he needed it. You couldn’t help but moan as his hands slipped under your shirt again, trying to find a way to take it off. He ripped it instead, and you gasped, giggling slightly.

He pulled back, “I want to make love to you, please I need you.” He paused, searching in your eyes. “Please, I’ll be your good boy.” He finished, and you gasped at his words. You unclipped the back of your bra, wiggling it off, tossing it onto the floor.

“Babe?” You asked gently, grinning as he gazed at you intently. “How do you feel about wearing a blindfold?” The question made his ears burn a dark red and he nodded as he let out a small whimper.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot. Uh- wait, here.” He responded, glancing back across the room, and raising his hand up as if to summon something. You glanced over to the area he was pointing, and your eyes widened in surprise as you saw a ribbon drift in the air, your way. The ribbon was from one of the clustered tables in the corner of the room and you gasped as you felt the fabric, noticing how soft it was.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt anything softer and as you smiled back to Peter, he let out a chuckle. You leaned over him, tying the ribbon softly but securely over his eyes. You giggled as you held up three fingers in front of his face, “Mm, be a good boy and tell me how many fingers I’m holding up.” You whispered, tickling close to his ear.

He shivered again, randomly guessing, “Eight? I don’t know, I can’t see.” He explained, and instantly he felt your hands placed on his torso. You pushed him all the way back on the table, kissing his shoulder a few times before you pulled back and took the pants off your body, including the socks and shoes.

“I- oh my.” Peter stuttered, as he felt your bare legs climb up near his body. You smiled, before leaning down and licking at his neck again. “I wish I could see you, but I already like this idea a lot.” He admitted, as goosebumps raised on his body as he felt you push one leg over one side of his body.

He truly couldn’t see anything, so once you kissed his ear, he gasped. It was one of his most sensitive spots, instantly shivering and groaning as you nibbled down. “Ba-babe?” He let out, moaning as a hand went down to his inner thighs again.

“Yes, baby?” You answered, kissing his cheek a few times, passing his lips this time. “Is it, um how do you feel about floating?” He stuttered, almost unable to talk.

You let out a confused noise back to him, but instead of talking this time, he just went for it, feeling his body float up in the air, bringing yours as well. You gasped in wonder, eyes drifting all around you and back down to Peter. Your pussy throbbed even more in desire, making you ground down against his torso, and making Peter groan out loud, “Oh fuck!”

Your movements turned both you and him on even more as you pushed yourself off him completely, as you continued to float in the air. Your hands went back to his aching cock, twirling your finger around his tip.

“Am I making you feel good, baby?” You whispered making Peter to moan loudly. He tried reaching out for you but couldn’t find you, instead you giggled as you let go of him again, causing him to curse.

Just as he was about to say something, your lips captured his, swirling your tongue out as he cried against them, needing more. You smiled, “Are you ready?” You asked him slowly, pulling away from his lips, he could vaguely taste himself on you.

He nodded, reaching up for the blindfold and ripping it off before chuckling, “I couldn’t take that anymore, I need to see and feel you.” He explained. You nodded back to him, wrapping your legs around him before sliding down to his cock.

You aligned yourself with his cock, breath hitching as he slowly slid into you, stretching you out. Oh fuck, it was incredible, you moaned loudly as he bottomed out in you. “Peter- woah,” You sighed out, getting used to the stretch. Peter nodded along with you, not finding the words that can describe the wonders of this feeling.

“I can be in you all day, you’re incredible.” Peter rambled, sliding his hands behind your back, and pulling you closer to him again. You giggled as the two of you floated even higher in the air, as you lifted yourself up after you adjusted yourself.

You slammed down on his cock, choking out a moan as one of his hands went down to your clit, furiously rubbing and building you up even more. “You’re such a good boy.” You cried out, grinding down on his cock, and pushing yourself down to kiss his lips again.

Both of you shuddered and whimpered at the feeling as you started to go at a pace, with one of Peter’s hands guiding you as you pressed sloppy kisses into his lips. His fingers edged at your clit, circling over and over, rubbing fast as you gasped repeatedly, surprised and almost reaching your orgasm.

“I’m going to come soon,” Peter cried out, as your lips went down to his shoulder again, biting down. You spoke up, breathing out, “Yeah, same here.”

It was after a few more thrusts down on his cock when you felt your orgasm pour over you, and you instantly closed your eyes, opening your mouth in shock and pleasure. Your gasps and clenches around his cock made Peter turn over the edge as well, and he cried out, feeling your orgasm continue as his started.

His movements on your clit never stopped and he eagerly grabbed onto one of your breasts, pinching your nipple and causing even more pleasure to pore out of you as you came.

A few minutes later, you and Peter laid on each other, still floating up in the air. You felt a sense of peace that you hadn’t felt in a while, and you were happy that you came here, even with the mess you caused. Peter felt the same, he wouldn’t take back any of your actions because just being in this moment with you was beautiful.

As you both floated down, whispering sweet messages to each other as the dazes of the orgasms slowed down. You reached off Peter’s softened cock, carefully to make sure he didn’t get hurt as you stepped off the table. You leaned back over to him, wiping his hair out of his face before kissing his cheek.

You walked slowly to the bathroom, making sure to pee quickly and wash your hands. You picked up a few towels, one that was dry and one that was wet with warm water, and walked slowly back to Peter, holding back a groan as the achiness hurt your hips.

Peter’s eyes were lulled closed but once you came back, he shifted, gazing up at you. “That was… really astonishing.” He mumbled in a daze back to you, as you started to wipe his chest, cleaning off the sweat. You slowly cleaned around his softened cock, trying to avoid contact, knowing it could be sore for him.

“Astonishing?” You giggled back, teasing him for his word choice. It was cute though, making you lean down and kiss his lips softly. You leaned back as you started to pat the areas dry, cleaning him off sweetly and trying to take care of him.

His face softened even more as a glow surrounded the two of you, “Yeah, it was astonishing.” He whispered back, and you turned to gaze at him as he slowly sat up. He pulled you in for a deep and slow kiss, and you pulled back, resting your head against his.

“Maybe we could do that again? We’ve got all the time in the world.” You giggled, causing him to let out a laugh. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing your cheek again.