#it came out a lot messier than usual but i think i like it?

[petroplant]

When the worlds come to an end, Starchild

You cannot escape to the dark streams of the sea

[bamboobooshark]

MOON BOYS X READER

₊˚.⋆🕯️⋆⁺. FIRST NIGHT TOGETHER : 4.2K WRDS

A/N : Originally, my goal with these preferences was to try write more than 1k words. I ended up writing a lot more as you can tell by the word count! I’m really proud of myself for that to be honest. Anyway, here’s some preferences for staying at the Moon Boys’ flat for the first night after spending some time with them. Warning for a pinch of angst with Steven’s, anxiety with Marc’s, and badly written Spanish in Jake’s (sorry </3)

STEVEN GRANT .

You and Steven have been friends for a while now. Both of you moved into the same apartment building around the same week. With the agreement to make the most of it, the two of you decided you would meet up every evening after Steven’s shift to talk.

Sometimes you guys would simply talk and you’d give him a ride home since he didn’t have a license. Other times, you’d greet each other with the goofiest grins with the knowledge that you planned an outing or movie night together.

Earlier today, he came beaming to you at your guys’ usual hang-out spot about how a coworker of his asked him out. The stars were fresh in the sky, the sun only had set a little bit ago. The wind was getting his thick curls messier than they already had been from his long work day. He squinted while looking for you and immediately smiled when he found you. The last thing you would’ve expected was for him to tell you about going on a date with his coworker, let alone someone he barely knew.

He was doing his usual when he was excited; talking with his hands, exaggerating his facial expressions, changing his tone with each little word.

As much as you were admiring him at that moment, it did wring your heart dry. Hearing him ramble about how excited, happy, and confident he was about this date felt like a stab in the chest. You didn’t know why.

You had never felt the need to stop him from doing something. Hell, you always encouraged Steven to follow his heart and do what he desired. At that moment, you were regretting it heavily. All the encouragement. All the praising. All the pep talks. All of it led up to him accepting a date with one of his damn coworkers.

“You alright? Got something bothering you, mate? Hello,” he had asked with concern. He stopped with the exaggeration for a second to check up on you. You couldn’t convince yourself that man didn’t have feelings for you. Yet, you shook your head no and shrugged your shoulders. You hated having to lie to him or try to shove your feelings to the side. “It’s nothing. Just happy for you! I can’t believe someone finally asked you out,” you explained to him with your hand on his bicep. It lingered there for a moment before slowly sliding down to his forearm, and wrist, and settling on his hand. His pulse was a little fast as you had felt it throb under your thumb. Both of you gave each other an unnecessarily long but welcomed gaze. His pulse quickened.

Steven got a bit flushed and instinctively pulled his hand out from under your palm. The bench beneath your hand was cold and wet from the rain earlier today. You were already missing the warmth of his flesh, but he was right fucking in front of you.

“Why does this hurt so bad,” you ask yourself now as you sit on your bed. You’ve been asking yourself this since you got back to your flat. You’re beating yourself up for thinking about him so much. “That bitch doesn’t even know him! I don’t know why she thinks she deserves a second of his time. She’s not nearly enough for him. She’s not good enough for him,” you growl to yourself in anger. Out of your rage, you start to do something that you never do unless Steven’s over. You grab some popcorn, slam it in the microwave, and impatiently get your couch ready for a movie marathon.

“I bet he only gave her a chance because she’s so far out of his league that he would’ve felt bad about rejecting her. Maybe Donna treats her better than she treats Steven so she’s using him to get some praise and maybe a promotion,” you mutter through gritted teeth while walking around your flat, tossing pillows and throwing blankets onto your couch.

Then comes a knock. You and Steven’s knock. The one that lets you two know you’re the one who’s knocking. Your rage pauses as you stand there in silence. “Hiya… The date didn’t go too well, just letting you know. I’ll be in my flat if you need me,” he explains to you before you hear him walk off. Your heart that was previously wrung of all concern for him as he explained the situation to you earlier soaked up his words like a sponge.

You internally debated what the best thing to do would be. However, your brain interrupts itself when the microwave begins beeping. A groan leaves your lips as you shuffle over to grab the popcorn. You hold the bag in your hands before realizing that this is the solution. This was what would help Steven feel better. A movie marathon together. You and him alone, cuddled up on the couch, snacking on popcorn, making the dumbest comments as you both watch.

You take no time throwing on your pajamas, grabbing your phone, and getting anything else you need while the popcorn cools on the counter. It almost falls on the floor when you try to grab it the first time, but you thankfully catch it. You run out your door, walk a few feet, and knock on Steven’s. “Steven, can we have a movie night together? Please,” you plead. You know he can be a bit selfless sometimes, but you need him to know you’re concerned about him right now. No excuses, no lies. “I just wanna do something to cheer you up. You sounded so sad when you were at my door earlier. I’m sorry for not answering. I’m here for you now,” you anxiously ramble before his figure greets you. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt. Don’t have work tomorrow either,” he comments as the slightest smile begins to creep onto his face.

The two of you let out a deep sigh once you’re settled on his bed. He explained he didn’t want to sit on the couch because he wanted to be comfortable. Feeling pity for him, you quickly accepted his request for you guys to get cozy under his covers.

“There we go! Much better, yeah,” he asks while looking at you. Despite Steven’s flat being dark aside from his laptop screen, his eyes seem to be softer. His gaze reminds you of the moment you shared earlier. His flesh getting warmer. His pulse throbbed quicker under your touch.

“Now, let me just get my computer going,” he murmurs, pulling you out of your memories. You smile back at him and nod softly. A soft giggle leaves your lips as he awkwardly pushes it to you. As much as a nerd he is, he’s never been tech-savvy. You quickly start up the movie while Steven moves back and forth on his thighs. Once it loads, you push the computer in front of you two and pull the covers over your lap.

In due time, you and Steven finally cuddle against each other. Your knees are tucked up under your stomach with your shins pressed against his thighs. Your arms loosely circle his hips while one of his hands is settled on your waist. Your head rests against his bicep. The only sounds that fill his flat are the movie’s audio, sheets ruffling, wind whistling against the window and the sound of deep breathing.

“I wanna let you know I’m sorry for ignoring my feelings,” Steven starts. You don’t look up at him but still display a confused expression on your face. “I love you. I have loved you. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” he says. You can feel his skin begin to heat. Before he can start to verbally apologize and insist he didn’t mean it, you let him know what you’ve wanted to say for a while. “I love you too, Steven,” you assure him. You lean forward, pressing yourself against his thigh and torso to give his lips a soft and gentle kiss. He kisses you back with the same loving energy. It’s a back-and-forth of soft pecks and lingering kisses before both of you grow too tired to continue. You fall asleep with your limbs tangled with one another’s, finally at peace with your feelings for each other.

MARC SPECTOR .

Anxious. If there was one word to describe Marc Spector when he’s around you, it would be anxious. Sweaty palms, clammy hands, flickering gaze, and an inability to be still. He started acting this way when both of you had a conversation about your mutual feelings.

It’s been almost a month since that conversation. Now the two of you sat at the warm, homey restaurant that wasn’t too far from his flat. Marc’s gaze was pitiful. He looked at you with his big, brown eyes that were all glossy from the reflection of the light.

“You look amazing tonight, love,” he told you tenderly. Your cheeks warm before you attempt to return the compliment. “And I could say the same. You always look so good no matter what you wear,” you beamed.

He reached his hand on top of the table, beckoning your own to join his. You chuckle softly and put your palm against his. His fingers make their way under your hand until they meet his thumb to carefully wrap around yours. He slowly runs his thumb against the soft flesh between two of your fingers. You sigh at the gentle gesture. Even before the shared confession, Marc was always prone to being gentle with you, whether it was his words or his actions.

Both of your eyes shared the same sight. A warm meal in front of you, the light from the inside of the restaurant shining perfectly onto your lover’s face, and the most welcoming hand lovingly wrapped around your own. None of this felt real. This must’ve been what Marc felt like all the time; terrified that this was just a dream or a hallucination. Luckily both of those anxieties were false. Neither of you had anything to worry about. Both of you were real and both of you were here to stay with each other.

After a few minutes of admiration and silence, you slip your hand away from his so you can both begin to eat. Hums and quiet groans of satisfaction leave your lips. Despite the restaurant not being a main chain, it had some of the best damn food you’ve ever eaten. It doesn’t even take you two hours to finish your meals. You and Marc have decided that you’ll each pay half if the two of you plan a date together, rather than on your own. He holds your hand while you walk over to the side of the street, hailing a taxi for you two.

Now the two of you are at his apartment complex. You immediately notice his anxious mannerisms getting more apparent. “Is something wrong, Marc,” you ask sweetly, not wanting to assume anything. “Yeah. I’m fine, darling,” he assured you, nervously biting his bottom lip. You squeeze his hand a bit to remind him that you love him. He squeezes back with a bit more force.

The elevator takes you up to his floor. He fumbles with his keys as you guys make your way to his flat. “Give me a second,” he mutters while fumbling with his key ring. He gets the key in and takes a deep breath before turning it to open the door. His expression tells you that his mind is racing with unwelcome thoughts. “Come on in,” he says hesitantly while motioning you to go in as he takes the key from the lock.

You’re somewhat confused. Marc had never let you come over to his flat. You assumed that his mental illness caused his place to be a bit of a wreck, maybe he found the state of it embarrassing, or he simply liked being at your place more. Your brows furrow as you take in the area. It isn’t nearly as bad as you expected it to be. Sure the whole flat has papers and books scattered across it, but not in a way that makes it look like a mess. However, Marc quickly objects to your internal dialogue as if he could read your mind.

“Shit,” he muttered. “I know it’s a mess. I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to clean up before we just spontaneously planned our date tonight,” he groaned wearily, running a hand through his hair. “Marc, don’t say that. Your flat is just about as messy as mine. Plus, I don’t expect you to have a picture-perfect place! You live here. It’ll get a little messy from day-to-day life,” you told him with a soft smile. You set down the bag you’d brought to stay the night before walking over to him. Your arms encircled his waist and rested at the small of his back. His muscles tensed in response to your touch. You leaned your head to press your face against his chest. “I promise it’s fine. I already feel at home,” you hummed while adding a bit of pressure to your embrace. He sighed deeply before giving in to your reassurance. He nodded his head in agreement and returned the gentle gesture. His arms reached from his sides to your neck, one hand tracing circles on your shoulder blade while the other rubbed the back of your head. He tilted your head up from his chest and smiled. “There’s that stunning face I love so much,” he cooed softly before kissing your forehead. “Do you ever stop,” you tease while cocking your head to the side. “What? Loving you? Never,” he replied before giving you a quick squeeze.

The next few minutes are the most soothing and peaceful you’ve had in a long time. The way Marc holds you feels so protective and safe. Your shared body warmth helps both of you melt into each other. His heart beats heavily in his chest while you press your bodies together. A soft, slow sway is shared between you. Heavy breathing, quiet mumbles of only the most tender words, hands fiddling with the fabric of the other’s clothes.

“You ready for bed yet, baby,” he asks softly, leaning forward to whisper to you. He gently kisses your neck while awaiting your answer. Your hand reaches up to play with his dark curls and you begin to hum with satisfaction from the kisses. “Mm. I guess,” you drag out in a sigh. “Let’s get you to bed then,” he mumbles. Before leading you to his bed, Marc smiles against your neck, giving the soft skin a small nip.

You manage to maneuver over to his bed as he continues to stay glued to you. He turns you around and flops back on his bed, pulling you on top of him securely. You let out a bit of a yell when he does that. He pulls his arms tighter around your waist and kisses the nape of your neck. “Fuck. That feels so good,” he groans. This man loves having you close, having you lay on him, smelling you, sweet things like that. However, they all came from a deep-rooted fear of losing you or that you’re simply a hallucination. So any time he convinces, or forces, you to lay on top of him, he is in utter bliss.

You start to get a little antsy in his grasp. His arms hold you tightly, but you still tilt side to side. “Marc! You can let me go now,” you exclaim playfully. He grunts in disagreement. “I’m not letting you go.” You sigh softly before moving all of your weight to one side. As expected his arms stay around your waist. He was insistent on not letting you go.

“You win,” you groan softly. He moves his body so he can rest his head on the crook of your neck. “I know, darling. Now we can go to sleep since we have that settled,” he hums against your skin. Both of you fall asleep entangled with each other. His arms stay around your waist like a harness as your hands lay on top of his.

JAKE LOCKLEY .

You and Jake had a date arranged. It was more of him planning a surprise for you and you agreeing to it. Nonetheless, you were intensely excited.

As he requested, you packed a bag to stay the night at his place and had your pajamas on. It was a bit suspicious. You had high hopes that he wasn’t going to attempt to take you somewhere in the state you're in right now. You’ve continually had a habit of doing one or two little things just to make sure you felt attractive. As you thought about how Jake loved to fuck around with you, he never did it in a publicly humiliating way. The idea was swift to flee your mind as briefly as it came.

You hear a hard and heavy knock on your door that made you gasp. That was definitely him. The way he’d knock so harshly never failed to get a reaction out of you. You shake your head in disapproval while moving to grab your bag. “I’ll be there in a second, Jake,” you shout to him. “Hurry up, precioso! I want to see that face I’ve missed so much,” he weeps almost childishly. You roll your eyes at his pouting while hauling your bag to your door. You open it and snicker to yourself. He was wearing his pajama just like you were. He definitely had a good plan for the two of you.

“There’s my favorite cabbie,” you beam, your hands quickly reaching to his face. His stubble prickles your hand and presses harder against it when he smiles lovingly at you, his teeth displayed just for his lover. You cant help but smile back at him with the same amount of love on your lips. Your thumbs rub along his cheekbone before you lean forward to kiss him. He hums against your lips before both of you pull back. You move your hands from his stubble inhabited face, down to his chest. His own hand move to rest on your hips, treating them like handles for his hands to hold on to. “I guess you beat me to our little kiss this time. I bet you a back rub that I’ll get you first next time, cariño,” he promised you playfully. You knew he would because he stayed true to his word when it came to you. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t challenge his words. “Sure you will,” you replied.

He led you to his taxi, smiling and rambling about his little surprise the whole way there. You loved the way the would talk to you when you didn’t give him any feedback. You could swear on your life that if you never spoke again, he would still find some way to keep talking to you. Once the two of you reached his taxi, he dramatically cleared his throat. “Don’t even try, ángel,” he quips with the assumption that you would try to open the door for yourself like you did last time, which ended in a horribly long lecture about how you deserve to be treated like royalty. You feign disappointment as he politely walks you to the passenger side of the car. Before your hand can even reach the handle in attempts to mess with him, he grabs your hand and clicks his tongue at you. “Dios mío,” he mutters before opening the door for you. “Now you can get in,” he says while motioning for you to enter the car. Just to make Jake sure that you won’t keep playing with him, you gently hold his free hand so you can safely step into the vehicle without tripping. “Safety first,” he hums before grabbing the seatbelt and buckling you in. He leans down to kiss your cheek before shutting the door. He enters the driver’s side rather quickly as if he’s in a rush. “Let’s get going,” he says happily as he begins driving his taxi.

During the drive to wherever Jake is taking you, he keeps asking you question after question. “How was your day?” “Did work go well for you?” “You remember that I love you, right, mi vida?” You groan, chuckle, sigh, give any reaction you can to his questions. “Jake! Enough with the questions,” you tease as you softly nudge his arm. “I’ve told you anything you could ask about me. I swear you’ve got enough information to write a biography on me,” you continue with a playful smile. “Okay, okay, my apologies, precioso,” he chuckles in response to your teasing before he parks in front of a tall building. “But there’s one more question I have to ask you. I promise it’s the last one for now,” he swears while holding your hand for a genuine effect. “Wanna have a sleepover,” he asks with that same goofy grin on his face from earlier. He smiles so hard and hopefully that his mustache pushes up against his nose. “Please,” he asks sweetly while squeezing your hand. You return the happy expression and nod in agreement. That was his plan this whole time. Get you dressed up nice and cozy in your pajamas, drive you to his apartment at night on a route you haven’t been through before, and invite you to have a damn sleepover. God, you couldn’t get enough of this man and his stupidly tender ideas. “Yeah, we can have a sleepover,” you chuckle softly.

Once you two reach his flat he opens the door, like a gentleman of course, for you. You thank him with a kiss on the cheek that earns you a soft smile and a thanks of his own. “Where should I set my stuff,” you ask him awkwardly. “Give it here, hermoso,” he says, practically beaming at the idea of helping you once more. Without hesitation you hand the bag over to him. He takes it and sets it under his desk before sitting on his bed and waving you over with his arms. “Come on, doll. I’m not going to bite you,” he pouts before he begins to grasp the air like you’re just out of reach. You sigh at his whining and walk over to his bed with a smile.

He doesn’t even let you sit down before he clings to you. He pulls you between his legs by the waist as you stand in front of him, letting out a soft gasp when he does so. He slightly lifts your shirt up, just enough so your stomach is exposed. He sighs softly before leaning forward to press his face against it. “Muy bueno,” he purrs as he feels the warmth of your stomach heat his face. He hums with his cheek pressed to your stomach as his hands slide up and down the back of your thighs. You can’t do anything except bite the inside of your cheek and blush as he continues. “Tan bueno para mí,” he praises, emphasizing that it’s for him. “Jake,” you whine softly. He lets out a soft grunt in response. “I’d prefer if you let me lay down before I faint from how affectionate you’re being,” you plead to him. Out of respect for you, he sighs and releases you from his grasp. You ruffle his hair a bit before crawling under the covers and awaiting for him to do the same. He follows soon after, now looking at you with those gorgeous brown eyes of his. He pulls you flush against him with his arms crossed behind your back. “You never said anything about not giving you affection while you lay down,” he says playfully while smiling. You’re already flushed again just by the idea. He shifts a bit further up along the bed so he can begin to shower you with love.

He starts at your forehead, pecking every inch of skin he can get. His hands crawl up from your shoulder blades to the back of your head so he can caress you loving and hold you in place. He moves to your cheeks and nose, hands coming to cup your face. He kisses from your left cheek, kisses your nose once before pausing for a moment to make some savory eye contact, then moves on to your right cheek. He pulls back for a second and you give each other a knowing look. “Please,” you whisper to him in a gentle tone. “Anything for you, mi corazón,” he mutters back. His hands come to cup your jaw on either side, thumbs brushing your cheeks as his other fingers lightly grasp the area behind your ears. He kisses your lips softly before pulling back. You give him a pitiful look before kissing him back. You keep going at it with each other, eventually letting the kisses linger for a few seconds, then adding your tongues into the mix. It’s a little messy, but it’s so tender. “I love you more than anything, mi vida. Anything,” he says to you before kissing you one last time, lips pressed to yours as if they’re a lifeline for him. You hum softly in satisfaction as he shifts your body for you, pressing your head to his chest and resting his chin on top of your head. He traces shapes with his fingers and scratches your back gently until you’re asleep in his secure embrace.

[sleepyangelkami]

RESTLESS NIGHTS d.dixon

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 2.2K

DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - for as long as you can remember, you've always suffered with insomnia. sometimes it was manageable, sometimes it wasn't. the only difference was then you didn't have daryl dixon to help you, now you did.

 ☆ WARNINGS - sleep deprivation, insomnia, mention of sleeping (lack of), crying, reference to bad childhood, mentions of eating/food, having no appetite, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

sleep never came easy to you.

you remembered being young, standing outside your mothers bedroom door and crying. fat tears would roll down your cheeks as you explained how your eyes simply couldn't will themselves closed anymore and that it was damn near impossible for you to sleep.

she'd always shone you back right to that little bedroom of yours. the walls would enclose on you and yet your eyes would shut, tiredness seeping over you.

yet sleep would never come.

a lot of time has passed since you were a child crying at your mothers door, begging for some kind of an out to this awful insomnia.

before the fall hit, you were a polite young lady that wore summer dresses and skirts all year 'round. you'd walk in through the white door, bell ringing as you entered your doctor's. he'd give you the capsuled tablets that helped you sleep. now, you couldn't even remember what they'd been called.

after the fall, you'd been stocked up, a reasonable amount. though not after long, the name had scratched off, sticker almost gone from the bottle completely. along the way, you met your group, your people, your family. they were more your family than your mother ever had been.

when you and your group found the prison, you deemed that you liked it there.

it had walls, safety, food, anything you ever could have asked for. but soon enough, your medication ran out and the sleepless nights haunted you again.

like today.

carol had made this sort of soup for lunch. you were sat at one of the tables, a spoon in your hand as you stirred it inside the bowl, zoning out. you wondered if it had gone cold by how long you'd been stirring it for. all you knew was that you were too tired to so much as move your arm.

unbeknownst to you, you'd been being watched. daryl dixon had taken a liking to you the moment he'd laid eyes on you. you pranced around with big smiles and happy rosey cheeks with your little dresses and skirts. you were so bubbly and happy, even when the entire world ended. most would think that a person like daryl would find it annoying, rather irritating. but in fact, he was attracted to it the moment he'd seen it. you were like a ray of sunshine, a beaming rainbow. whenever he was around you, he was smiling or laughing. rick almost fell off his horse when he heard daryl laugh for the first time, it was next to you, of course.

but lately, things hadn't been right.

he'd noticed the very first day you woke up with messier than usual hair, a hand running through it with an almost permanent pout etched to your lips, under eyes looking a little dark.

you'd only gotten worse since then.

the sound of a bowl hitting against the table brought you back to life. your doe eyes widened a little as you sat up a little straighter, big eyes gleaming at the man who took a seat at the table you were sitting at, right across from you. "hi, daryl." almost swooning at the mere sight of him.

"hey, pretty girl." yeah, definitely swooning. "wh's up with you? you've been stirrin' the damn soup cold."

you glanced down to your bowl of soup that you'd barely touched. "not hungry." you stated, pushing the bowl out in front of you. you sighed with pouty lips as you laid your chin on your hand.

lack of sleep tended to do that to you. one of two things would happen. one, you'd be craving something like crazy, whatever food it would be from cheese to fruit. or two, the lesser kind one, you'd lose your appetite almost completely. now was the lesser kind one. this one tended to happen when you didn't sleep for longer periods of time.

daryl's eyes were so full of concern and worry. "somethin' wrong?" not waiting to begin having his own soup, carol made a mean soup.

"nope." popping the 'p' sound because really, there wasn't anything wrong, at least nothing serious enough to tell anyone else, you thought. "just tired." tired was an understatement, your whole body was exhausted.

"yeah, i get that." nodding along and pursing his lips. though this behaviour had been going on quite a while. he never wanted to push you, but there were times where he felt like he had to do something. "you'd tell me if there was something wrong though, right?"

you hummed, eyes tracing his own. you were awfully tired and with electric blue eyes like his own, it was sort of hard not to get caught staring into them, whether you were tired or not. "'m just tired." you assured.

though the man didn't look as though he believed you. his eyes traced your own, as though they were trying to figure out what else was wrong.

finally, he sighed, knowing that you weren't going to tell him anything, not now. "alright, sweet girl." watching your cheeks go flush. "you know where to find me if you need me."

you nodded your head, rosy cheeks and pink lips in a smile. "thanks, daryl."

days passed awful slow when you were tired.

thankfully, you'd taken no naps throughout the day so you assumed that by the time night fell, you'd be tired enough to sleep your soul away.

but when the dark sky loomed over the prison, you ready in your cell for sleep to envelope you... you were met with sheer nothingness.

you huffed, closing your eyes and twisting your body.

you thought that if you kept trying, sleep would eventually come to you. you'd tried all the home remedies you could, you tried medication, though that was no longer an option. now, you had hardly any options. the only one that you could think of was shutting your eyes and praying for sleep.

but you knew a long time ago that there was no god in a world like your own.

you turned around for what felt like the hundredth time. even with your eyes strewn closed, a pout still rested on your lips and your brows were knit together closely.

you wondered if anyone else in the prison was awake.

then your mind travelled back to daryl dixon. he looked at you so full of concern and when he'd offered help, he meant it. you knew daryl the best out of anyone and you knew that daryl doesn't say things he doesn't mean. he was the type of man to stay quiet and if he did speak, it was only truth. that was what many people admired about him.

you hardly registered your sock covered feet on the cold concrete ground of the prison. sleepiness was holding so close to you that you hardly registered anything. you didn’t remember your feet guiding your body, turning the corner to reveal the next hallway. and you definitely didn’t recall stepping into daryl dixon’s cell, eyes slightly widening in the dark as you peered around, looking for him.

alas, his cell was empty.

you almost cursed yourself, thinking it was beyond stupid for you to come here in the first place. perhaps you should have just stayed in your cell and waited the night out. you could do one more night without sleep, right? 

but before you could turn around, you heard the creak of the cell door. you whipped around to see daryl standing there, looking dishevelled as ever. “what’re you doin’ here, angel?” when you didn’t respond, he found his body moving closer to yours. “shouldn’t you be sleepin’?” 

and maybe that was what set you off.

“i can’t.” but you didn’t speak the words with your usual joyish speech, where every word was elongated and practically cheered from your mouth. your voice was all croaky as it broke, like a child, waiting for your mother to open her bedroom door and let you in.

“hey, hey.” his hands were already stretching out, finding your face in the darkness. his fingers brushed against your cheeks, softening the reddened skin. “‘s okay, what’re you cryin’ for?” though his voice was filled with nothing but comfort, the way it softened to fit your own. 

daryl dixon truly was one in a million.

you shrugged your shoulders, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes, breaking the dam and sliding down your cheeks embarrassingly so. “i can’t sleep.” voice cracking again, but you didn’t stop there. “i’ve tried everything ‘n i can’t do it.” your head shaking, nose becoming red.

daryl wasn’t exactly new to insomnia. he’d felt it times on his own, usually after something drastic had happened or if something was yet to happen. like when carol’s daughter, sophia had been missing. he remembered not being able to sleep for weeks on end. he remembered glancing into the mirror, his eyes sunken and under eyes practically purple. come to think of it, that was exactly how you’d looked earlier.

he cursed himself for not realising sooner. 

“‘s okay, baby, everything’s okay.” he heard your pathetic little sobs, practically whimpering as he took you into his arms. his large hand found the back of your head, steadying it by his chest as you cried, tears running down your cheeks as your own chest practically heaved. 

you’d been so desperate for sleep that you hadn’t realised you’d been on the brink of tears. now that you were sobbing into the man’s chest, you found it in yourself to be a little embarrassed. but daryl wasn’t the type of person to let you feel that embarrassment. he merely cooed and shushed you, hand gently massaging the crown of your head. 

“‘m sorry.” voice like fragile glass as you pulled away from him. “‘n now ‘m keeping you awake ‘n i―”

“hey,” catching your attention. even in the dead of night, with darkness consuming the room whole, you were still able to make out his rough features, and he could still trace your delicate ones. “you ain’ ever gotta say sorry to me, alright?” you nodded your head, eyes still full of watery liquid and lips puffy and red. “now c’mon, we’re gonna figure this out together.” 

you could vaguely make out his hand on the small of your back, leading you towards his bed that was draped in many more blankets than your own. 

you’d never realised just how comfortable daryl’s bed was, even through the many times you’d practically hopped into his cell, jumping on the bed excitedly to tell him some form of news that you’d heard, whether it was a piece of gossip from carol or something serious from rick, daryl had always been all ears.

it was very different to the state you were in now.

you still found yourself sniffling as daryl tucked the sheets over your body. the sheets were different than yours. usually, you hated feeling too many sheets on you, finding yourself feeling awfully trapped but when he was tucking you in so delicately, you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind.

then you felt his arm gently plop over your middle, holding your back against his front.

gently, your two hands pushed themselves forward, grasping his much larger one. you fumbled with his fingers, pulling one in, sticking one out. even in the dark when you couldn’t so much as make out the shapes, you still found it sort of lulling.

the feeling of his breath hitting the back of your neck, the warmth of his body flowing into your own. you found your eyes gently shutting.

you wondered had it been this easy all along. If all you’d ever needed as just someone else. you didn’t know but deep down you knew. perhaps that was why you’d waited at your mothers door as a child, crying and begging for her to just open it and let you in while she’d shone you away, annoyed with your antics, wondering why she couldn’t get a normal child. and maybe that was why your feet unconsciously began walking towards daryl’s cell, because even your body knew that all you needed as someone to help you, someone to guide the way.

and daryl was more than happy to give you that.

for the first time in a long time, you found yourself almost succumbing to sleep. 

it was almost scary. you wondered if your eyes would force themselves open or your mind would force yourself awake. your entire body feared that you’d blink and wake up in your own cell, had this all just been in your imagination due to your lack of sleep.

the mere thought made a shaky breath fall from your pretty lips.

and daryl was more than prepared to pull you closer towards him, his face practically in your hair. his lips pressed a chaste kiss to your shoulder blade, hand finding your fingers and interlocking them before his arm stretched out around your body, pulling you as close as humanly possible. “not goin’ anywhere.” he mumbled, as though he were able to read your mind.

he spoke again but the words faded out as your tired mind finally put itself to rest.

perhaps you didn’t just need someone else. perhaps you just needed him.

main masterlist/daryl's masterlist

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Last Minute - D.Malfoy

Summary - It was only a few days until Christmas and Draco’s girlfriend is still doing some last minute things for gifts. Draco finds her tangled up in yarn and sleep deprived in the library.

Word Count - 916

Warnings - Female reader, period mention, not sleeping, not proofread

Author’s note - Welcome to day 20!! 5 more days and then we are all done with the 25 days of fics! I know this one is later than usual but I had to work and my accelerated winter class started today so I had homework to do. I hope you enjoy!

my masterlist

25 days of fics masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

It was close to Christmas, the clock ticking closer and closer every minute. Every minute she didn’t spend working on her gifts was a minute wasted. She had been awake for over 24 hours, crocheting her gifts by hand rather than with magic. She liked the repetition of the stitches but now she wasn’t so sure about that. She found solace in the library, it was quiet, the fire was crackling, pages were turning, and the smell of old books mixed with a warm fire. It was the perfect atmosphere to get shit done.

She had completely forgotten, however, that she promised Draco that they would go to Hogsmeade together, so when she hadn’t shown, Draco looked for her. He checked her room, checked the common room, checked the great hall but came up with nothing. That was until Theo had told him she was half asleep in the library. So Draco had thanked his friend before making his way to the library, the only place he didn’t think to check. When he had walked in, he saw her on the second floor, going up the stairs only to find her asleep at the table, tangled in yarn. 

“Love, wake up. Let’s go back to the common room,” He instructed as he gently rubbed her back. She jolted awake with a gasp before grabbing Draco’s arm, twisting it painfully. “OW! It’s me! You’re boyfriend!” He shrieked, this caused Madam Pince to make her way up to the second floor and kick out the couple.

“I’m sorry, Dray. I feel terrible, are you okay?” She panicked as they were escorted out of the library after untangling her from her yarn. 

“I’m fine, love, are you? I’ve never seen you so tired,” He asked her concerned. She yawned loudly before turning to her boyfriend to answer.

“I’ve been trying to finish all of my projects for Christmas, I didn’t realize how close it actually was until I was able to sit down and start my list.”

“When was the last time you got some sleep?”

“Well I just-”

“Library doesn’t count.”

“I have no clue then, maybe after our potions exam?”

“That was 2 days ago!” Draco was surprised he hadn’t noticed his girlfriend not sleeping, now that exams were over and break was about to start, he was able to sneak her into the boys dorm more often. He was completely drained the last two days with exams and letters coming from home so he had just been putting himself to bed earlier than usual not thinking about his girl. “When we get back to my room, you are going straight to bed. You can’t go on like this, it’s not good for you.”

“I know but I need to finish this! It’s important that I finish my gifts before Christmas!” She protested but with a stern look from Draco she sighed but agreed to go right off to bed. 

As they entered his room, Theo, Blaise and Mattheo were all gathered around Theo’s bed goofing off and joking around. The three boys turned their heads as the door opened, surprised to see the state of their friend. Her under eyes were a lot darker than normal, her gait was clumsy, her hair messier than normal and her eyes were glassy and heavy. “Salazar, what happened to you?” Mattheo asked her, feigning disgust.

“Fuck off, Riddle. I haven’t slept in nearly two days, my period is coming, I’m hormonal and tired, of course I look rough,” She told the boy off, the group surprised with her attitude but brushed it off.

“Get into some comfy clothes and go to sleep, principessa. Do you want to borrow one of my sweaters?” Theo asked her sweetly.

“No thank you though Theo. I’ll steal another one of Draco’s, but I will steal a pair of pajama pants,” She smiled at her friend before heading to her boyfriend’s trunk, pulling out a warm sweater, nearly missing the pair of flannel pajama pants that were tossed her way and heading to the bathroom. She changed out of her school uniform and into the borrowed clothing, gathering her dirty clothes and headed back to the room. Her boyfriend was already laying on the bed waiting for her.

“Do you need us to go somewhere else? We can go to the common room,” Blaise offered.

“Yes-” Draco started before his girlfriend cut him off.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll probably fall asleep in a few minutes anyway. Chat away, it won’t bother me.”

Draco stuck his tongue out at the trio childishly before opening his arms to his girlfriend who just about collapsed into them. Not even a minute after she had settled herself against his side, her head resting on his chest and listening to his heartbeat, she had fallen asleep. He let out a chuckle seeing how quickly she had fallen asleep as he pulled the covers up over the two of them.

“Is she already asleep?” Mattheo asked.

“Yep, passed right out once she was comfortable,” Draco replied, fondness laced in his tone as he watched his girlfriend sleep peacefully.

“Whipped,” Theo muttered behind a cough.

“I am. But hey, at least I have a significant other, Nott,” Draco shot back, causing a roar of laughter from all of the boys in the room including Theo himself. She hadn’t even stirred at the noise, still just peacefully sleeping in the arms of her boyfriend. She was right where she wanted to be.

[itsohh]

Flying Too Close to the Sun

AN: Female reader, I wrote this before the comic came out but made some adjustments for it to kinda fit.

Summary: After leaving Rainbow years prior, Sam brings you back to help with the Deimos situation. As as warden your there to make sure he stays contained but things end up far messier than you exspect when he takes an intrest in you.

Word count: 6746

Warnings: Dubcon, noncon bondage, smut

Masterlist AO3

Greece 2020 

“All I ask is that you give it a go-” 

“No!” You threw our hands up into the air. Sam's eyes remained on you as he watched from the corner of the room. His arms were folded and he leaned against the wall. Your relationship with the man was rather new and fresh. Sam had only known you for a short while whereas Harry had known you since you arrived at Rainbow years prior. 

Harry's face seemed rather controlled but there was a certain edge to his voice. He was aware that one wrong move could affect everything. Usually, you were so open-minded, he had expected this resilience from someone like Taina but not you. 

“This is too much Harry. Our job was never made for an audience, to be blasted over huge screens. It wasn't made for civilians to see. How many thousands would know us?” You pointed out the window to the rest of the stadium. “Our enemies get a perfect view into our skills, our weaknesses, our numbers, our faces- everything.”

“I assure you, all of that has been accounted for. Every person that comes through those gates will have been background checked but if it would make you more comfortable perhaps we could change your uniform and name.”

“No. I've made my mind up here. I think it's time that I head home. Rainbow’s been a great place for me and I've learnt a lot but I think it's better that I put this information to good use back home.” You pulled some paper from inside your jacket and placed it on the table. 

It was now clear that you had made your mind up before speaking to Harry. 

“I understand.” Harry nodded and took the paper from you. 

“If you ever need me in the future for something proper, don't hesitate to call.” You looked towards Sam for a moment. “But something tells me you shouldn't need to. You have quite the team here.”

-

 England 2024

The umbrella above you protected you from the sun's harsh rays. In front of you was a glass of juice and a bowl of hot chips. Your sunglasses helped with the sun and you didn't look up when someone sat down from across you. 

Sam Fisher. 

“Long time no see.” You pushed the chips towards him and he promptly took one. “Heard about Harry, my condolences.”

“Yeah, thanks. Saw you're doing well.”

“Well for this kind of work but I assume you didn't call me all this way just for small talk.”

Sam placed a folder on the table and slid it over to you. You wiped the salt from your fingers and picked it up. 

“Gerald Morris…” You muttered the name under your breath, only loud enough for Sam to barely hear. 

Your eyes absorbed all the information in front of you as you leaned back on your chair. All the meanwhile Sam dug into the food. 

“So you got him, sounds like it took a lot but you did. Why call me?” You slapped the folder shut and placed it back on the table. 

“Aside from our newer operators, you're more detached from the situation. I imagine he knows less about you than anyone else.” Sam leaned back and your brows narrowed.

“I'm your wildcard?”

“So to speak. Harry always knew you would have your part to play one day and I believe it's this.”

“And what is this Sam?” 

“...Rainbow is split about his presence. There's a very real possibility that someone may take justice into their own hands which is exactly what he wants.” He let out a sigh and rubbed his face. 

“I want to assign him to your care.”

“My care? I'm not going to be babysitting a terrorist.” Your eyes cast down for a second. “Besides, he could easily overpower me.”

“Not like that.” He placed another folder on the table that you took. 

“Azami. She joined after you left-”

“-Private sector? I didn’t realize you guys were hiring mercs…” You muttered, your disapproval obvious. 

“Rainbow's purpose has changed over the years. When did you join?” It was an answer Sam already knew but you answered him regardless. 

“2018. Amelia brought me along due to my marksmanship experience in urban settings.”

“Integral skills to have when the outbreak claimed more territory. Skills you shared with the rest of the team and in turn, they shared their skills with you. The same can go with cases like Azami in the private sector. She has her own unique experience.”

“Alright alright, I get it. Why do you bring her up then?”

“She's one of the people we are concerned about. She's been going to the holding facility more and more.”

“You're worried she will kill him in custody?”

“Her and several other operatives. I don't think they will but I can't discredit the possibility. I want you to make sure that never happens. Gustave feels the same.”

“What makes you think I won't just kill him? I mean I wasn't super close to Harry but he was still a friend.” 

He tossed a chip in his mouth and sat there for a moment. “You won't.”

-

Rainbow had changed a lot since you left which meant you received a completely different dorm room than you used to have. Not that it really mattered, you had taken everything personal with you. The new room you received was one of the ones in the holding facility. It wasn't a dorm room but its own special room. You had one job and that was clear. In a way, you were like a warden to Gerald and Gerald only. 

You had to admit, the room was rather secure. It was a safe room in a sense. Sure you didn't have the best views or anything but that hardly mattered when you were so close to a man that would most definitely kill you at any opportunity.

In all honesty, you didn't bring much with you. While you knew that Sam might need your help for a while you figured eventually you leave again and it was best not to get too attached. A knock at the door had you stand up from the bed. 

You opened it to find Sam standing there with clothes in his hands. They were neatly folded and had a couple of things balanced on top. 

“What's this?” You asked. 

He placed the pile on your desk. “New ID.” He waved it and snapped it on the table. 

“Uniform.” 

You looked towards the Ghosteyes uniform and cocked a brow. 

“Thought I was just going on guard duty.”

“Need an excuse to be here officially, wear it or don't at least have the ID with you. “

You took the ID and clipped it to your current shirt. It was a slightly faded black shirt with NZSAS printed across. The shirt didn't have any pockets so you clipped it to your slightly stretched collar. 

Sam carried a sort of understanding look with you. The pair of you hadn't known each other very long before you left Rainbow but there was a sort of mutual understanding that was shared. Trust. Why he trusted you was beyond your understanding, perhaps it was something that Harry said to him before he died. 

“This here is your pager.” 

“Pager?”

“No one's to go into Deimos’s holding without you there to supervise. That includes team leaders. Your job is to make sure that Deimos is there and alive.” 

“Alright.”

“All the team leaders know your back but not everyone else does.” 

Just as you were about to reply the pager started to beep and Sam tilted his head to the side for a second. 

“Better get moving then.”

-

Sam briefed you on how interrogations were still ongoing even if they admittedly didn't get very far. The room that Deimos was restricted to was rather large but rather empty. It was by no means a great place to stay but it wasn't inhumane. “Eliza, long time no see.” 

“Icarus.” She didn't quite smile but there was a level of familiarity that the pair of you shared. “I'm glad that out of everyone Sam brought you back.”

“Well, when he begged me how could I say no?” You walked up to the door and flashed your ID against the reader and the door opened with a click.

“Interrogation?”

“Yeah, doing it here.”

You opened the door for her and nodded. “Be my guest. The door closed behind you and you leaned against it. Eliza was the one to approach the man who was lying on his bed. Through the glass, you could see everything. His legs were leisurely up and he had a book in his hand. By the sight of it, it seemed he only had one book and had most definitely read it a few times already. 

He wasn't quick to talk to Eliza but there was a pause in his movement when his face turned towards you. 

“Well, now there's a face I didn't expect to see. Here I thought you were the one person who had managed to escape Rainbow.” He scoffed and sat up. “Just another one of Harry's puppets then.” 

“I get why Sam brought me on board.” You muttered to Eliza.

“Sam bring you on board? And why is that sweetheart?” 

“To make sure I don't kill you.” Eliza loomed over the man but he just let out a laugh. 

“Can't trust your own people? Can't say I blame him.” 

-

So became the rhythm of your babysitting job. It didn't end up being too bad, as Deimos was often let out of his cage for training. A weird thing but it seemed to get a few results even if it was at the cost of morale. 

Then it happened. The alarm. A blaring alarm that rang halfway through the night. You bolted awake and grabbed what you deemed necessary. Your ID and your guns. Your usual Barrett on your shoulder and a revolver on your side. The cold concrete floor did little to hinder your speed as you made your way towards Deimos’s room. 

To your relief when you arrived he was still there, the same way he always was. On that damn bed. You clicked the door open and grabbed a pair of cuffs from outside of his room. “On your knees Gerald.”

“First name basis are we?” He scoffed and turned to you. Not one for his games, you aimed the gun at his leg. 

“I was told to keep you alive- not in healthy shape. Now be a good boy and follow instructions.” 

“You’re playing with fire girl.” He finally swung his legs over the side of the bed. 

“Hands behind your back.” He followed your instructions and you were quick to cuff him. 

“Going somewhere?” He asked. 

“No.” You locked the door from the inside and found your spot behind him. You pulled the gun from your back and he made a small sound. 

“Nice pyjamas girly. We should swap sometime.”

“They say you never talk much in interrogations and yet ever since I've been here I can never get you to shut up.” You hissed. 

He let out a laugh. “You? Oh you I like. Such a fire, never afraid to say it how it is. A real shame you came back to Rainbow. Here I thought I wouldn't have to put you in the ground like the rest of your group.”

“For starters-” You locked your gun in place and steadied it over his shoulder. “I'm not part of Rainbow. I'm doing this as a favour. And secondly, you think you're ever leaving this hell hole your dead wrong.”

“Oh sweetheart, I don't have to leave here to watch you all die. It's already begun.”

“Yes yes, your going to kill us all. Cool story, now don't move.” 

The pair of you stayed like that for five minutes before you heard it. The massive explosion that burst the door into smithereens but done in a way that would protect anyone inside. 

Out from the dust, someone appeared- someone you didn't recognise. Without hesitation, you pulled the trigger and Deimos deliberately bumped his shoulder up. It was something you had predicted. 

“I told you not to move.”

“Your aim was off.” He spoke innocently with a nonchalant voice. 

“Yes because I figured you would pull some shit like that.” 

His chuckle vibrated next to you and he slightly leaned his head towards you. “I swear to god Deimos…”

“Have I been anything but the model prisoner?” His voice was mocking and came out as a purr. 

Even though it wasn't necessary, you removed the mag and reloaded. The movements were intentionally harsh to jolt around Deimos before you slammed the gun down on his shoulder again. 

The small grunt he made when you did so didn't go unnoticed and the corner of your lips curled up. The great thing about the design of the holding area was that in order for someone to reach you they would be forced to come down the very long hallway. 

You cursed when a bunch of smoke rolled into the hallway and filled the room. Unlike Timur, you were unable to see through it and your jaw clenched. 

Thankfully Deimos stayed quiet and allowed you to focus. Any movement you saw you were to shoot on, your ears listened for the movement in the smoke but just as they neared you a familiar suppressed gun went off. 

The smoke started to clear and you were quick to start your fire. Precise singular shots were all you needed. The bodies dropped to the ground and a moment passed. The smoke fully cleared and you started to stand up from your spot behind Deimos. “Do hurry back.” 

You rolled your eyes and met your savoir at the door. “Taina. Good to see you on your feet.” 

“Icarus.” She nodded your way and approached the open door. 

“Thanks for the backup, you did a good flank.” 

“Not that you needed it huh?” Deimos mouthed off behind you. Strangely, it was a little flattering he thought so highly of you but then again perhaps he was being sarcastic. It was hard to know with a man like him. 

“How's the rest of the base?”

“On high alert, they broke through the east side as a distraction but things are quickly coming under control. I can handle him if you need a moment.” Taina offered as her eyes scanned your rather under-dressed outfit. 

“I'm good, you stay up ahead.” You politely smiled. 

“Are you sure? Deimos is… be careful around him.” 

“I always am.” Despite your refusal, you noticed her foot still crept into the room. 

“He's a bastard and a liar. Don't trust a word he says.”

At her tone, your hand went to the side arm that you had strapped on your hip. Immediately Taina noticed how you went for the revolver and her brows narrowed. 

Still, your hand hovered there. “Taina just go.”

“Are you planning to do something?” She accused. 

“No- I'm not. But your hesitancy to leave is making me worried. I appreciate the help I do but please just go up ahead.”

“No.”

At her refusal, you pulled the revolver out and aimed it at her. “Don't make this harder.”

“Why are you so protective of him?”

“Because it's my job. Sam's orders, shoot anyone who may kill Deimos. He wants him alive and gods above help me. Don't back me into a corner here Cav.”

Then she took a step back and put her hands up. “I understand. I just wanted to see where your loyalty lay.” She nodded your way and disappeared away from the room. 

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you found your way back to behind Deimos and ran a hand through your hair. 

“All this fuss for little ol’ me…” 

“Shut the fuck up, Gerald.” 

-

After Taina left you didn't see anyone else for about half an hour. Not until Eliza showed up with Sam in tow. “Didn't secure him down?” She cocked a brow at you. 

“If he runs I shoot out his ankles.” You could feel Deimos’s gaze on you. “Jobs to keep him alive not keep him walking.”

“Heard that you had an altercation with Taina.”

“I don't take chances.”

Eliza gave you a single nod and looked towards Sam for a moment. 

A silent conversation took place between the pair of them before Sam spoke up. “Go get some rest. We can take care from here.” 

Your tense shoulders dropped slightly and you nodded in response. “Will do.”

-

A week later you lay in your bed, eyes trained on the ceiling. Each breath was long and drawn out. Despite your clock reading three in the morning you couldn't help but lie there completely awake. 

There wasn't any logical reason to back up that gut feeling that formed and festered in your chest. A tightness that had your entire body tense. Something wasn't right. After giving up and finally getting to your feet you snatched your phone off the side table. 

You pulled on an old hoodie and dumped your phone in the pocket. A torch and your revolver were the next two things on the agenda. Mentally you promised yourself, just one check-up on the man and then you would go back to sleep. 

There hadn't been any alarms and Deimos had seemed the same annoying self when you had last seen him. It was beyond any logic that something would be going on. 

Your slippers made little sound on the polished floor as you made your way by torchlight. The way to Deimos’s room had long since been ingrained in your mind even though he changed rooms. 

Yet when you neared you weren't met with the darkness of his asleep. The door that spanned the long hallway was open and a small crack of light escaped it. You turned off the light from your torch and slipped out of your slippers. Slowly you crept down it, your hand flexed and curled around the hammer of the revolver. 

Then you saw them. Jessica, you believed her name was. She was part of IT staff. There was something connected to the electronic card reader and his door was open. Their voices were hushed to the point where you couldn't hear them. Without hesitation, you pressed the silent alarm on the wall. 

The door behind you swung closed and locked. The sound drew their attention and the first thing you saw was Jessica's face, then it was the pistol in her hand. 

A large bang echoed through the rooms and she fell to the ground with a hiss. There wasn't a single hesitation in your movement. The shot had caught her directly between the eyes and her body crumbled to the ground instantly. 

Deimos ducked behind the thick doorframe out of view. “You never should have got out of bed sweetheart.” His voice was a mocking purr. 

“Stay in your room, Gerald.”

“Room? This cell? I don't think so.” 

Something flew from the inside of his room and you swore out and covered your eyes as the flashbang went off. Disorientated, you stumbled when you felt a sudden impact. His hand wrapped around your wrist and slammed it against the wall. Despite the pain that had you gasp out, your tightened and your finger pulled the trigger. 

You slammed your head forward against his and went to knee him. Yet when your knee made contact one of his hands grabbed your thigh while he used your off balance and the weight of his body to force you onto the ground. 

Again he slammed your wrist but this time against the ground. Two more times and your grip loosened enough to fall from your grasp. Deimos snatched your gun and you went deathly still when the barrel pressed against the bottom of your jaw. 

“Nice gun you got here. LFP586, one shot from this and there's no coming back from it. Can't help but wonder where you got this.”

Silence stayed between the pair of you when you didn't answer him. He let out a small chuckle and you could practically hear the rolls in his eyes as he spoke. 

“You can talk I won't bite. Where'd you get the gun girly?”

“A bunch of operators use it. I don't know why you're surprised.”

He let out a tut. “Now it's rather a standard issue in GIGN but you're not GIGN are you? I can't recall such a weapon being on NZSAS’s artillery.” 

You swallowed and pressed your lips together. It was actually rather good that he was talking, perhaps you could stall enough time for someone to show up. 

“Now, last time- because I hate repeating myself, why does a girl like you have a gun like this?” 

“It was a gift. I've always preferred accuracy over quantity.”

“A gift huh?” You felt him twist the gun against your skin as he looked at it. “It seen a lot of combat hasn't it? Who gifted it to you?”

“Gustave did.” The words were a whisper on your lips. 

“Why?”

“A thank you from when we worked together in New Mexico.” 

“Oh, I heard all about that. Viral outbreak wasn't it? So much fuss.”

Your eyes shot to his and your lips sealed. It was classified information. He could be bluffing about it but the thought that he had such classified information has your heartbeat quicken. 

“Well I'm not one to steal a gift so let's say thank you for letting me borrow it.”

“Mind the kick. I'm sure the recoil is something new for you.” You spat the words out with venom but that just seemed to make the man happier. 

“ Now there's that fire I love. ” He grabbed you by the middle of your hoodie and pulled you off the ground. With the gun pressed against your head, you didn't dare try to get out of his grasp. Anyone else you might had but not Deimos. He was far too unpredictable and you couldn't lie that he was far better at hand-to-hand combat than you were. 

The door cracked open and you looked towards the silhouette. “Looks like someone else came to play. Nap time birdy.” Deimos voice was barely a warning before the hammer of your gun slammed against your head. 

-

Would have it been better if you stayed in bed? 

A groan left your lips as you woke up. Despite your arms being restricted behind your back you were able to sit up from your lain form. “Perfect timing to wake up.”

Slowly you blinked a few times and turned toward the voice. Deimos placed a tray on the ground next to you. In a surprising amount of gentleness, he pressed his fingers against your head. It was directed where he had hit you. The flash of pain had a hiss escape from your lips as you pulled it away from his touch. 

“It's bruised but you can handle that.” 

You glared at the man as he crouched in front of you. “I'd like my gun back now thanks.” The words were gritted from your teeth and while you knew he wouldn't return the gun it was more of an expression of how you felt more than anything. 

“I'm afraid your colleagues dealt with that when I decided to stretch my legs. You're lucky you got out in one piece.” 

He sat down on the floor properly and leaned in. “Trust me, I thought you would be a good little hostage but they were rather determined to stop me even if it meant taking you down with me.”

He picked up a chip from the plate and brought it to your lips. “You should be thanking me really.”

“Fuck you. Bastard. They were right to try and kill you.”

“Even if it meant killing you in the process?” 

“Yes.” Your lips snapped shut as he held it there.

“Open up sweetheart.” 

You glared at the man in response. With a huff, he removed the mask from his face and placed it on the ground next to him. His lips parted and he slipped the chip between them. All the while he kept eye contact. He bit into it and slowly chewed before he swallowed. 

“See, I wouldn't try and poison you.”

“Who said I thought it was poisoned? Maybe I'm not hungry.”

“It's been two days. Eat.” 

“You knocked me out for two days?!”

“No. I sedated you for easier handling and now it's finally worn off.” His voice was rather nonchalant and it wasn't until you jerked your head away that his stance tensed. 

“I don't know why you bothered. I'm not going to tell you squat even if I did know anything.” You hissed. 

Deimos chuckled and his hand reached for your face. His thumb gently stroked your cheek while his eyes roamed over the rest of your face. 

“Oh, I know you won't. There's not a thing in this world that you could say about Rainbow that I don't already know.”

“Then why bother at all? Why not just leave me there or kill me?”

“I'll tell you a secret little birdy.” He leaned in closer and his voice grew quiet. Not that it changed much, it was only the pair of you in the room. “I've grown rather fond of you and I think I'll keep you.”

Blood drained from your face as your lips grew dry. The realization hit you that you had no type of leverage against the man. If he wanted information at least you could hold out on that. 

“The feelings not mutual. I'd rather die.” 

Again he laughed and tutted at you. “Now sweetheart I don't think that's entirely true. If there's one thing I can do it's read someone and you’re an open book. You can deny it all you like but I think the feeling is rather mutual even if you can't say it.” 

“Fuck you!” You slammed your head forward against him. He let out a grunt and fell back. In his dazed state, you were quick to move. You rocked your body and jumped to your feet. With your hands secured around your back there wasn't much you would be able to do. Lucky enough the cuffs were just long enough for you to jump over them like a backwards skipping rope. 

You pounced on the man and used the chain to strangle him. To stop him from flipping you over, you leaned back and let gravity control your body. Deimos clawed at the chain for a second before his head suddenly flicked back and he went prone on the ground. The movement was quick enough for him to slip from your chain and recover. 

You stumbled back and readied yourself for his retaliation as he got to his feet. Deimos clicked his neck side to side but he didn't seem overly upset, instead, he seemed rather amused. 

A knife flashed from him and you took a step back to create a gap between the pair of you. “That wasn't very nice.” He clicked his tongue.

The knife swiped down and you used the joint of the cuffs to parry it. It collided with a loud metallic sound that had your eyes go wide as he pushed down. A grunt left your lips, the man was far stronger than he looked. 

The bastard had the nerve to wink at you before he twisted the blade. It coiled the chain around it and he yanked you towards him. Anticipating your forced movement towards him, he tapped the back of your neck and forced you against the wall. He untangled the knife and slipped it up so it rested against your neck. 

He stood behind you and sandwiched you between the wall. The warmth of his chest pressed against your back and you could feel his breath against your ear. “They'll come for you Gerald.” You cursed his name. 

“Rainbow?” He laughed and pressed against you harder. “How long did it take them the first time? Your presence changes nothing. Well, for them anyway.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“To me, your presence changes everything. ”

His knife trailed down against your throat until it reached your chest. It was pressed just hard enough to cut into the fabric.

“You're sick.” Your teeth were glued together and you didn't dare to move. Deimos’s lips brushed against your ear and for a moment you swore he kissed just beneath it. 

“No, no, no. You see, I'm very good at picking up people's micro-expressions and I know you. In the last few weeks, I've learnt to know you very well. Like I said, I don't think you hate this as much as you say. I reckon if I were to dip my fingers into that cunt of yours it would be soaking-”

“Fuck you!”

The knife suddenly tore through the rest of your shirt and you managed to clutch your shirt together. 

“As I was saying. If I found you before they did you would have been singing my praise long ago birdy.”

This time when he kissed you, it was far more prevalent. His lips slowly pressed against the side of your neck and slightly sucked on it as he enjoyed the taste of you. 

He pulled the knife away and tucked it back into his sheath before you felt his large hand cover one of yours. It curled around your hand and forced you to grope your breast with him. 

“Don't worry sweetheart. I won't force you to admit it.”

Your breath hitched and he paused his movement. 

“But I'm nothing but a man of honour. You tell me to stop and I will.”

“I've read what you've done. You wouldn't know what honour is if you looked it up in a dictionary.”

“You're probably right but I'm still a man of my word. Stay stop and I will.”

“You're a bastard.” 

His hand pushed yours upward and he replaced them. The inside of his fingers punched your nipple while he continued to palm it. Gerald's hips ground against your ass.

“I'm not hearing a no.” 

You could practically hear his smirk against your skin and when you went to open your mouth all that escaped was a small moan that only egged on him more. 

“Yeah? Do you feel that? Mmm, this is where a girl like you belongs. Pressed against me not worry 'bout anything.” His hand travelled down and didn't hesitate when it reached your pyjama pants. Gerald's hand slipped beyond the waistband and found the prize that was your wet cunt. His fingers slipped against the entrance with ease and started to tease your entrance. 

“Fuckin’ soaked. Was it just me or does being manhandled get you that worked up?”

“I…”

“Shh shh shh. I've got you. you don't have to pretend. It's just us here. Just us.” 

Two fingers curled inside of you but didn't move anymore. For a moment the pair of you just stood there completely still. The gravity of the situation started to dawn on you but you couldn't help the way that your head started to feel dizzy from his scent alone. 

He was such a man who commanded control of every situation. That natural scent was almost overpowering. You hadn't ever really noticed it even when you were in his room but now he was slow close it was impossible to escape. 

Would it stay on you long after his touch was gone? Would it claim you as his? Gerald's fingers retreated from you and you wondered if he had changed his mind. Had he sensed some type of hesitation from you? He pulled back slightly and turned you to face him. 

From there his eyes made contact with yours and he cupped your cheek with his palm. This time it was you who moved. Slowly you moved your hands up and his head tilted ever so slightly. It was obvious that he was interested in what you were doing and didn't make any attempt to stop you. His hand slipped from your face and allowed you to continue raising your hands up. 

You hooked your wrists over his head and rested them on the back of his neck. Carefully, you pulled him into you and his lips Glady made contact with yours. The floodgates opened as Gerald early kissed you. 

His mouth consumed yours in opened mouth gasps and he bent down slightly before he grabbed your thighs and picked you up with ease. Automatically you wrapped your legs around his waist as you lost yourself in his lips. 

Gerald held you there with ease, his hands feeling up your ass as he did so. When your lips parted for air he bit down slightly on your bottom lip and dragged it for a second. That smirk was still on his face. 

Your eyes kept contact while you let out small pants. He shifted your weight so it was more against the wall and allowed himself to hold you up with only one hand. Gerald pulled out that knife again and before you could say a word he sliced through the seams of your crotch. 

“The fact you came to me with no underwear on. Naughty girl.” 

“I'm in my pyjamas- ”

He cut your voice off as he placed the flat blade against your cunt. The coolness had your brain rewire and you let out a small strained sound. His tongue flicked over his teeth and the blade was gone. Gerald paused for a moment and pulled open his belt with ease. 

Then you felt it. You looked down to see his thick cock press against your entrance. The head strained for a second but then it slid in with ease. A shiver spread across your body and you griped onto his shoulders for dear life. You couldn't separate your hands very much and so they brushed against his neck as your nails dug in. 

Your eyes squeezed shut and you threw your head back against the wall as he continued to push in.

“Uh uh ah.” His thumb pushed on your chin. “Look at it. Eyes open sweetheart.” His voice wasn't mocking but one full of authority. It was a command that you obeyed without question. Your eyes looked down to see your cunt swallow his cock up. It took everything he pushed in until he was completely sheathed inside. 

All thoughts had long since left your head as he slightly readjusted himself and grabbed you with both hands again. With his grip secured he pulled you slightly away from the wall so that when he started to move you, your back didn't scrape against the concrete wall. 

There wasn't any warning. One moment you were filled stretched to the brim and then the next moment he was gone only for him to slam back in as he bounced you on his dick. A cry left your mouth and you pulled on his neck with the link. Your face buried in his shoulder as he continued that brutal pace.

Sure you had been fucked before but this was something different. Every bone in your body had turned into putty that he could meld by his will alone. Each time he re-entered it felt as overwhelming and consuming as the first. You swore you could feel him to your very core, all the way up to your chest. 

“I've got you birdy. That's it.” He purred in your ear and continued to praise you but you couldn't hear much due to the pounds of blood that echoed in your ears. 

The pair of you stayed there for god knows how long. Just him fucking you on his cock like a toy. He didn't stop even when you clenched down around him. He didn't stop when tears fell from your eyes and he didn't stop as you gushed around him. 

Gerald successfully managed to drain all energy from you by the time your cunt drained his cock. The kisses he placed on your head afterwards felt distant like he was on another planet. You didn't have the time nor the energy to think about the situation. All you could do was collapse fully limp in his arms.

-

Slowly you opened your eyes. Instead of the cell you had been subjected to, you found yourself rather cozied up in a large bed. For a brief second, you thought it was only a dream but as you blinked and looked around the room you realized you weren't familiar with your surroundings. 

You looked to the side only to see your reflection in a mirror that decorated the wall. In the reflection, you were met with the image of yourself. No longer were you in your pyjamas, instead you had a black shirt on and a pair of sweatpants. The shirt didn't fit quite right and you wondered if it was one of Gerald's. It certainly smelt like it.

The gears turned in your head and your eyes went wide. You saw the figure at the bed next to you and you spun around to see him asleep. The gravity of the situation crushed down on you and you swallowed. Slowly you got up out of the bed and your eyes went to his gun that was placed on his bedside table. 

No way he would leave it out right? It was surely a trap. It would at least be empty right? Either way, it was a weapon. His knife would be better. Yet as you looked on the floor you couldn't find it. 

You tiptoed over to the other side of the bed and silently picked it up. He didn't stir. You flicked open the chamber and your heart raced as you found that there were in fact bullets in there. Just to make sure you pulled back one bullet to check they weren't blanks. 

They weren't. 

“What are you planning to do with that birdy?” 

Your eyes snapped to Gerald. He was propped against the headboard and leaned back against one hand. With the blanket no longer covering him, you could now see his shirtless form. 

You aimed the gun at him and he didn't seem surprised. 

“I should kill you.” You hissed but couldn't stop the slight shake of your hands. Most people wouldn't notice it but he wasn't most people. 

“And why’s that?”

“You killed people.”

“And you haven't?”

“You killed innocents, you killed your own people. You killed Harry.”

“Harry was a cancer to this world. Even you should understand. After all, you left him.”

“Yeah, I left! I didn't fucking kill him for it. You were already gone- hell you killed your own team. You of all people don't have any right to lecture.”

“I did what was right to stop-”

“-You became the very thing you were supposed to stop.” 

Gerald weighed his head and pulled back the blankets from the bed. You took a step back and watched as he got to his feet. 

“Don't move.”

He ignored your command and continued forward until his chest met with the barrel of the gun. He grabbed your hand and instead of pushing your hand away, he pulled it up. The barrel rested against his forehead and he stared intensely into your eyes. 

“If you're going to shoot, you better not miss.”

His hand didn't leave yours though. His thumb rubbed over your knuckles as if he were comforting you. The soft gentle touch was such a contradiction to the rough merciless man he was.

Seconds ticked by until you suddenly pulled back your hand as if his touch burnt you. The corner of his lips curled up and you took a couple of steps back. 

“Not going to shoot?”

“Rainbow wants you alive.”

He laughed and you fled towards the door. “Keep telling yourself that sweetheart.”

“Don't call me that. D-dont follow me.” You yanked the door open and ran out the door. Silently you went down the hallways, careful not to bump into any of his men. Eventually, you found a bathroom and jimmied open the window. You had no idea where you were but anywhere was better than being by his overwhelming presence. 

You only looked over your shoulder once as you fled into the woods. He hadn't followed. 

[novelizt]

I CAN BUILD A CASTLE OUT OF ALL THE BRICKS THEY THROW AT ME ☁︎ ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

GENRE ➺ angst + fluff, fake relationship

SYNOPSIS ➺ you recruit the daring anthony lockwood to stage a relationship that will rile up the press and give his company publicity.

WC ➺ 10.9k

DISCLAIMER ➺ actress! reader. the fic also sings the "all these people think love's for show, but I would die for you in secret" beat. lockwood calls reader "darling" and "starlet" because... you'll read why. i'm not sure if The Daily Gazette is a real thing. if it is, i mean no slander — this is merely fiction and I needed a publication name.

NOTE ➺ this is for the oldest/only child who takes on a lot for their family — i see you. also, imagine the nick-priyanka chair pull; i like to think that it's lockwood and darling in a nutshell. my ideas were all over the place so this came out a bit messier than i anticipated, but it is lockwood content so i hope you enjoy! especially you, @t2sh0 !!

They say the brightest stars are the ones that burn out first. That was probably what the gazette was counting on, at least.

Ever since you stepped into the limelight, and shortly earned the title of London's Darling, they made a dime a dozen in making your business their business. They would sing your name to high praise one moment then drag it through the mud the next.

You were content with letting them run their mouths, because it was no skin off your nose, but you drew the line at insulting your family.

Someone at the gazette thought it would be absolutely riveting to write about the dirt poor origins you were raised from. In the article, they not only criticized you, but put your parents under a microscope as well.

"All that really happened is, their daughter put on diamonds and called herself a queen," the Daily Gazette said. "It's only about time until they return to their roots—of which aren't much."

They insinuated that you might not even be your father's daughter—or if you were, it wouldn't be long 'til you came out to be as ill as he was. They called your mother weak for not being as proacticve in generating money, and you a fool for being their lapdog. No one in their right mind would just sit and let a publication sully their name like that.

If they were going to make up hullabaloo, you were going to step ahead and give them something else to talk about, and what better play than having London's Darling Starlet fall in love?

It had came to your attention that the gazette had set their eyes on one agency in particular: Lockwood and Company. Specifically one, Anthony Lockwood.

Where they besmirched your name, they glorified his. The kid was talented at weaving through a conversation, you'd give him that. From what you'd read, you already knew he liked being in the glare of publicity.

You were taking a gamble when you walked right up to their statute of work without a disguise. If the someone at the gazette saw you, you hoped that they would get the ball rolling. All that would be left to do is recruit Mr. Lockwood.

But Lockwood hadn't been the one to greet you at the door. You tried not to appear too shocked, but no one really expects to see someone geared in oversized cleaning gear. Whoever it was looked more alien than human.

"Arif's?" the curly haired boy inquired.

You were tempted to scratch your head, because what in the world was an 'Arifs'?

You were conjuring up a response, but then the boy was shoved aside. The girl who had taken his placed looked both inquisitive and sleep-deprived at the same time. Some kind of recognition happened in her eyes and you smiled, mirroring hers.

The curly haired boy looked positively disturbed by it.

"Hello," you said delicately. "does Mr. Lockwood happen to be in at the moment?"

"He is," the girl said. "You must be the Darling of London. I've seen you in the papers. My friend, Norrie, would be so happy if you could—"

"Luce?"

You weren't usually struck by strangers but you knew right away, that it must be him: Anthony Lockwood. He had the timbre and tone of a well-trained celebrity. It was no wonder the gazette was tripping over themselves to write him.

"Lucy's busy smiling at the Darling of London, or whatever she called her," the curly-haired boy reported, akin to a child who wanted to see their sibling be scolded.

"George," Lockwood turned his attention with a terse intonation. "why don't you pop on the kettle?"

George's smirk fell. He muttered something at Lucy before retreating to the door beside the stairwell. The wide berth he left gave you your first glimpse of the gazette's most recent favorite.

Anthony Lockwood was a spectacle in a suit and tie, looking exactly like his pictures in the papers. He cleaned up nicely enough. You just couldn't help but wince at the disarray his hair was in.

"Lucy, will you please?" Lockwood gave Lucy a look. She cast a glance at you before hesitantly joining George in the kitchen.

You made a mental note to ask about her friend, Norrie, later. It's the least you could do for her saving you from George.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Lockwood turned his attention back to you. He leaned easily against the doorframe, giving off the impression that he was conversational enough, even if you weren't being very good at being polite.

"Welcome to Lockwood and Co., I'm Anthony Lockwood," he said courteously, flashing a smile that would make the press go crazy. You've seen just one like it on cast mates, but he had done it so well you know he'd practiced to get it perfect, or maybe he was naturally good at smiling. You wouldn't know. His voice waded through your reverie. "How can we help you?"

"The kind of help I need isn't a usual request, Mr. Lockwood," you said forwardly. You glanced over his shoulder before offering a chaste smile. "May I come in?"

—

You didn't expect an audience of three after being lead to the receiving room. Then again, you should have. The reasonable assumption was that you were here for ghost-related troubles. You weren't sure how to clarify that you weren't.

You accepted a cup of tea and took in the air in the room before proceeding. Lockwood was sat right across from you, attentively bent toward you. Lucy was trying to keep on a amiable façade in her seat (likely to get a signature for her friend). George was... being himself. He was an odd one, but he had rid himself of his space suit, so that was nice. None of them seemed to be hostile though. That was always a good thing.

"I have a personal favor to ask of you," you started. You rested your hands over your knees, retaining your resolution. "and it involves the recent rumors about me."

"Which one? The one about your prissy attitude or the inevitable downfall of your entire family?" George wasn't as ignorant as he made himself out to be. He took a sip of tea when Lucy glared his way. Lockwood didn't look too surprised by his snide, George must regularly be like this.

You stifled a laugh of your own, amused by his forward nature. "Both, to be honest. The gazette has been generous with their slander lately." You tapped your finger on your knee. "One can only take so much . . . That's what brought me here. I need your help to keep them under control. You'll be properly compensated, of course."

"Miss Darling—" Lockwood started. It wasn't your name but you let it be since he sounded genuine enough. "—we are a psychical agency. What you're asking, it's out of our area of expertise."

"I am aware of that, but I'm not making this request to Lockwood & Co.," you said firmly. You steeled yourself when you set your eyes on him. He flinched under the intensity. "I'm asking you directly, Mr. Lockwood."

George hunched forward, unsuccessfully staunching a laugh. Lucy had straightened in her seat, eyes bugged out of her head. And Lockwood? The surprise on his face couldn't have been fake. He blinked and blinked, but his brain couldn't catch up.

You went on. "My family's been involved. I can't sit idly by while their names are being tarnished. I need something to dissolve those rumors, or at least distract the public enough to forget about them."

He cleared his throat but it was clear he was still ruffled by your earlier admission. "And how would I contribute to that?"

You tried to sound professional, but even your most prim tone sounded odd when it came to a request like this. "I need you to court me."

George stopped trying to muffle his laughter. He even grew bold enough to take a biscuit to snack on. "This is rich. 'Court' and 'Lockwood' in the same sentence? Never thought I'd see the day. You're better off with someone like Quill Kipps, Miss Darling—was it? At least he can act."

Lockwood shot a glare at George but he didn't budge, smiling as he devoured his biscuit. Lucy had recovered and gave her two cents. "George is right. Lockwood doesn't have the best track record in terms of subtlety."

Lockwood looked affronted. "I'm not as bad as you make me out to be."

"You're right," George said gleefully, smiling at you with his eyes. "He's worse."

"You know what," Lockwood said with renewed inspiration. "I'll help you, Miss Darling. Regardless of what my colleagues have to say." He turned his attention to you. You almost cracked a smile at the sheer determination in his complexion. Anthony Lockwood clearly despised being bad at anything. "I'm at your service, starting this very second." He poked the table to enunciate every word. Amused didn't feel like an apt word to describe what you were feeling.

"I was hoping you'd be the opposite of subtle," you said with a polite smile. "You're an enigma to the gazette, Mr. Lockwood. I need you to attract as much attention to us as you can."

He lifted his chin with that award-winning smile. "Consider it done."

George was still grinning to himself, finishing off his biscuit with a dodgy sort of laugh. Lucy had thrown herself back, likely holding in a sigh by the way her shoulders sunk.

Regardless, you felt hope rush through you as you reached across the table, sealing the deal with a handshake that shouldn't have been half as memorable as it was.

—

Lucy's Norrie had set off the domino effect, and you would be forever grateful for it. It didn't take long for the gazette to catch wind and write up their narrative.

!! LOCKWOOD & CO.'S SPECIAL CONNECTION TO LONDON'S DARLING

Recipients, it has come to our attention that London's Darling has shipped out a special signed poster for a friend from Lockwood & Co. The two parties have never had an interaction prior to this instance. We suspect a budding alliance from two very distinct worlds. More about Lockwood & Co.'s most recent escapade on page 7!

It was the first time you finished reading an article without your jaw tensing. It was doing well for your family's temperaments as well. Your mother was now inquiring about the blooming relationship between you and a certain someone instead of agonizing over the manic rumors told about the family. Whenever asked, you feigned ignorance and left the conversation at that.

—

The next time the gazette wrote about London's Darling and Lockwood & Co., it had been about a genuine act of kindness that had been caught on camera.

The trio had finished up a case late in the morning and you dropped by to gift them a hearty breakfast. You didn't intend for the gazette to pick up on the minute interaction, but they always found ways to weasel their way into things. If you didn't despise them so, you would have given them credit for their tenacity.

!! LONDON'S DARLING NOW BECOMING THE DARLING OF LOCKWOOD & CO.

Recipients, an insider recounts the story of seeing our Darling at 35 Portland Row. Coincidentally, the official offices for the psychical agency, Lockwood & Co. She narrates that the starlet had hand-delivered doughnuts and some other necessities; Actively taking time out of her bustling schedule to tend to the operatives she has recently befriended. For the first time since her limelight debut, she has a heart! Our insider also notes a particularly bright smile from the agency's founder and boss, Anthony Lockwood. Is this another one of our Darling's summer flings? See page 4 for news about Darling's controversial role in unveiled coming-of-age film.

You saw a couple reading the recent print as you were walking to Portland Row. They were particularly giggly, so it was safe to assume that the public was falling for your theatrics.

You arrived to Lockwood's abode with a smile.

—

"The gazette's gone feral, haven't they?" George exasperated, throwing the paper on the table after he had cut out Lockwood & Co's bit in the headlines. "You didn't even have to try for this one, did you?"

"Not at all," you chuckled. "They have a way of finding out, even if we don't mean for them to."

"They could have chosen a better picture," Lockwood murmured, eyes permanently narrowed at the cut-out George had hung on their wall. "I did not look that worn out that morning."

"I can't remember it, so I can't lie," Lucy said passively. She slid a pot of tamarind soup through the disarray of cups and papers. It gave you a wider glimpse of the doodles on the cloth. Lockwood had explained the nuance of the doodles earlier. You strongly believed anyone would find the scrawled notes (and insults) endearing.

You leaned over the table as the fragrance of the soup wafted into the air, like tendrils of smoke tempting you for a taste. You held back a smile and tried not to stare at their dinner for too long. You had more self-control than that, but, despite your best efforts, your stomach had a mind of its own.

Your stomach didn't usually rumble but it had chosen that specific moment to do so. You tried to play it off but the members of Lockwood & Co. had already paused in their steps, turning to you with varying levels of surprise. George looked disturbed; Lucy, startled; and Lockwood, amused.

"Hungry?" Lockwood asked, already knowing the answer.

"Not at all," you waved off. He saw right through your stoicism with a growing smile. "It was just a stomach cramp," you insisted.

He didn't move his eyes away from you as he pulled out a chair, but didn't sit in it. "Can't send you home with your belly doing that, can we, George?"

"The gazette might as well write us up for being terrible hosts," George said agreeably.

Lucy set out an additional plate and bowl. "We have a reputation to uphold, you know."

There was an air of something you couldn't quite place. You saw Lockwood's smile first, amused and welcoming all at once. From the corner of your eye, you found George and Lucy doing the same. There was no other word that could describe the moment other than 'warm'. With a feeble smile, you sat in the chair Lockwood had pulled out for you and tried not to look like a mangy raccoon in the midst of a famine.

Only when the sound of clinking cutlery and plates filled the room did you muster the courage to speak again. "Thank you for having me."

"Don't mention it, Starlet," Lockwood said, nudging your side. "You're the reason our clients have been burgeoning lately."

"Who knew a movie star had so much influence?" George asked rhetorically. "If we keep this up, we might be able to afford more biscuits."

"Even if that happens, the biscuit rule stays," Lucy stated, pointing her spoon at George.

There was always something gleefully odd about this place. Sometimes, it was hard to keep up. "What is this biscuit rule?" you asked, looking between all three of them.

"I'll tell you after dinner," Lockwood promised, carefully placing a bowl of soup next to your plate. "Eat. You must be starving."

You withheld the urge to smile but found that, even with your experties in pretending, you had a hard time acting in the company of Lockwood and Co.

—

"How strict is the biscuit rule rotation?" you inquired Lucy.

You had never experienced sleeping over at someone else's house. Doing so, at your mature age, felt a little zany. Not that you could do much about it.

The expert (Anthony John Lockwood) was firm about not letting you walk home at this dark hour. Even more so because the sun had set earlier than expected. Hence, the reason you found yourself rooming with Lucy for the night.

"Strict," was Lucy's answer; half with you, half not. She was at the vanity, writing in a journal. Likely for her friend, Norrie—if their names scribbled on the front was anything to go by. She looked so focused, you would have guessed she was aspiring to out-write the folks at the Daily Gazette.

Defeated, you heaved a sigh and submitted yourself to a few moments of quiet in a place so unfamiliar.

The bed bounced under your weight. The springs you heard in the mattress reminded of you of home, yet, the stars on the ceiling reminded you that you weren't. Most of them clung on but some had fallen off, leaving behind star-shaped irregularities in the paint. You counted four fallen stars before you were reeled back by the feeling of another weight falling beside you.

"Comfortable, Miss Darling?"

Lockwood.

You righted your posture. He sat up with you, taken-aback by your shift in demeanor.

"Yes," you said stiffly, combing down your hair. "Thank you for letting me stay the night."

"I couldn't let you go in good conscience," he said offhandedly. "Don't be tense. I'm only here to offer pajamas."

Your eyes found the neat pile stacked right beside him. The little act of kindness had warranted him a smile, one he returned with equal sheepishness.

"Thank you," you said again.

"It's no trouble." He flourished his hand as he said it. The springs creaked again when he shuffled off the bed. "Sleep well, Miss Darling."

"My name or just 'Darling' is fine, Mr. Lockwood. 'Miss' is much too formal."

"It's Anthony then, darling." He said it with such resounding charm, you almost regret allowing him to continue on that way. "Sleep well," he trailed off.

He stared at you, like he was looking for something in you. You were accustomed to getting weird, prolonged glances in the street, but you felt conscious when it was him. You blamed it on First Sleep-over Jitters. When you finally averted your gaze, he snapped out of his reverie. With a noncommital smile, he jerked a thumb at the door. "I'm right downstairs if you need anything."

"I'll keep that in mind, Anthony." As you said it, you couldn't shake the feeling similar to stepping into a classroom for the first time. There was a flash of surprise on his face before he schooled his expression, back to his notorious smile.

You wouldn't have known, but he couldn't shake the thought that he'd never heard his name sound so nice before.

He held back a smile as he said, "Goodnight then, darling."

You did worse at hiding yours. "Goodnight, Anthony."

You said his name so carefully, he ought to think he was important. Even if the smiles exchanged were bashful, it encapsulated his world.

He retreated to the steps, halting to occasionally look at you before Lucy had gotten sick of his snail pace and told him to bugger off. She had taken her side of the bed when her journal entry for Norrie was finished.

"Is he always that odd?" you asked her, taking the pajamas and heading to the bathroom to change.

The clothes were light, but they weighed much more to you. Who could blame you for admiring a simple shirt and pajama pants? That was your first sleep-over, after all.

Past your ogling, you could still hear Lucy's voice through the door. "Who, Lockwood? Not usually. Suppose he wants to make a good impression."

"Because I'm your highest paying client?" you inquired in a sing-song tone, slipping the shirt over your head. You should have expected the smell of lavender to engulf you.

Lucy snorted, laying back on her pillows. "Because he's a fan, Miss Darling."

"You can call me by my name, Ms. Carlyle," you chuckled, trying to keep your tone even as you examine which way the pajama pants go.

"And you can call me by mine, Miss Darling," she retorted.

When you got your pajama situation under control, you poked your head out of he door. "Touché, Lucy."

She tipped her invisible hat. "I try, Miss Darling."

"Is my name ugly?" You questioned, tone bordering on a sigh. You set yourself down on the vacant side of her bed, planting straight into the pillow on contact. "Just tell me that it is, I won't be offended. Why else would people avoid it like the plague?"

"Miss Darling does sound odd, doesn't it? In my opinion, it's quite regal. You should change your surname to it, honestly. The word just fits you."

You exhaled, catching sight of the stars on the ceiling once more. "And who gave you that absurd idea?"

"Lockwood did," she told you, taking you by surprise. You physically reeled at the fact. "He watched—What was the name of that film again?—Timeless. You played the teenage version of the main character. He wouldn't shut up about the movie for ages, said your character was his favorite. I believe her name was—"

"Darling..." you whispered the same time she said it.

"—and he kept going on and on and on about how you were the epitome of the word. He wouldn't put a stopper on it," Lucy shook her head, recalling his raving vividly. "We couldn't get him to shut up, even while we were off on fieldwork. Eventually, it stuck with us. I couldn't unsee you as 'Miss Darling'. Then the press started calling you 'The Darling of London'. It only proved his case. If there was a word more fitting than 'insufferable', 'Lockwood' would be it."

You believed snorting was the only correct response to that.

"I'm surprised he hasn't fallen over himself trying to impress you," she chuckled. Lucy crossed her arms over her belly, cozying up to her pillow. "Don't tell him I told you though. He might take away my turn in the biscuit rotation. He can be petty like that."

"Sounds childish," you muttered.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Lucy said with a shrug. "He already thinks he's God's gift."

"He's in the good graces of the Daily Gazette. So, he's close enough to it for me," you chuckled.

"Only you would think that." Lucy shook her head. "Go to sleep, Miss Darling. Else you'll have nightmares 'bout him."

"Is that a real warning?"

Lucy shut off the lights. "Yes," she said into the dark.

It was far too late for you. Just seeing the gentle limerence on the ceiling brought your thoughts right back to him.

Unbeknownst to you, Lockwood couldn't put his mind to rest either. Him knowing you were just a stairwell away was an involuntary shot of adrenaline.

—

Amusement parks smelt like burned popcorn and sugar. It was unbearably noisy but the neon lights and the shining attractions negated the cons. Lockwood thought he might just kiss you for bringing them here on a Thursday.

There were enough people to make the place feel alive but it wasn't so crowded that they couldn't get on the rides they wanted to try.

He namely appreciated that fact because Lucy and George didn't look too upset about being out of their element. They looked excited, even. Lucy was glancing at a shooting game and George was oddly fascinated by the horror house.

As if driving them here wasn't surprise enough, you dropped a heavy pouch in each of their palms with the simple instruction to knock themselves out.

After agreeing to meet up before dark, the group broke into three. Lucy went off to win herself a rapier, George was off to scare the clowns in the horror house, and Lockwood was trailing behind you.

"You can do your own thing, Anthony," you reassured, lined up for cotton candy. "I can handle myself in daylight."

"Darling, I'm a gentleman. I can't leave a dame alone in such a vast scape," he replied, bold enough to tap your nose. "What kind of make-believe boyfriend would I be if I did?"

He was amused by the way you rolled your eyes. Lockwood was convinced that only you could make something so trivial so enigmatic. Warmth prickled on your cheeks, turning them the same shade of pink as the cotton candy the store owner handed to you. You ordered one for Lockwood before telling him, "Press isn't here—they'd have to pay the tall entrance fee to enter. At ease, soldier."

"Negative. I'm staying by you—as a very concerned friend," he rebutted with resolve, asking for a brief pause to receive the cotton cone spun for him. "Is that so bad?"

"I thought you three deserved to enjoy some time away from work," you confessed.

You didn't know where to head so Lockwood steered you toward a bench, guiding you with one hand on the small of your back. It took all your effort to keep your expression neutral but you continued to chatter, biting down the urge to grin like an idiot.

The only way you knew how to distract yourself was to speak. And speak, you did. "You're either working with ghouls or with me for you know what. I thought you'd be sick of me by now," you joked.

"Of you? Never."

He said it like it wasn't an arrow straight to your heart, and you couldn't shirk the feeling that you should have prepared yourself better. He was Anthony Lockwood, after all.

Like the heathen he is, took a sizeable bite out of his fluff of cotton candy. In your favor, your attention was drawn somewhere else. His upper lip was crusted in princess pink sugar and he was flashing his princely smile, completely unaware of his mustache. You pressed your lips together to keep your laugh in.

He lowered his head, trying to meet your eyes, to no avail. You screwed them shut and curled into yourself to keep your composure.

He cocked a brow. "Cute as you are, I want to know what are you laughing about."

"Nothing," you said unconvincingly. You took a glance at him and snorted.

With a pinched expression, he looked at himself in the reflection of a metal stall then he rubbed the sugar away with the sleeve of his coat, scarlet tinging his ears.

"Never speak of this," he told you.

You mimed yourself zipping your lips and he nodded, satisfied.

Your composure broke the moment he crossed his arms and hunched into himself like a kid.

—

You'd been to that same amusement park many times in your life. You rode the same rides back when you were a starlet in the entertainment world. You won the same prizes when you wanted to impress your parents. You ate the same food you did when you were a tyke.

All those memories, and none of them compared to experiencing all of it with Anthony John Lockwood. His incandescence weaved into every new memory, leaving his face seared into the back of your eyelids. Even if you tried to deny it, the pain in your cheeks reminded you that you spend hours on end smiling with him or at him.

Despite your best efforts, his presence made you feel something you never expected to feel for anyone. There was no word for it, and you refused to give it a name.

When the sky theatened to turn orange, you snagged his arm and drove him all the way to your favorite ride. Even if you craned your neck all the way, you could never see the top of the ferris wheel. Perhaps Lockwood could, but you were too timid to ask.

The decorative lights looked weak in daylight but it was magical nonetheless. Nothing could complete your day like hopping into your favorite gondola and seeing the park from all the way up.

When you pulled him back, he had to complain. "That one was empty." Lockwood frowned at the dandy green gondola that circled past.

"No, no. We can't take that one, it has to be this one."

Lockwood had never seen so much excitement shine through your usually collected demeanor. It was like a breath of fresh air. He couldn't bring himself to fight you on it.

When the coral pink gondola swung to a stop and creaked its doors open, you pulled him right into its bowels. The interior was vandalized with countless pens and markers. Even in the chaos, he recognized your penmanship. It was messier than it was now but it was undeniably yours. Only you swooped your 'y's that extravagantly.

Someday soon, I'm going to be the biggest star you'll ever see!

Some of the ink was scratched off but the message stood the test of time. He wondered if you remember even writing it, but one glance at you told him all he needed to know. You paid no mind to the vandalism, eyes enthralled by the rising view outside. He felt his cheeks ache from the beginnings of a smile. He forced it down when you laid your eyes on him.

"Just wait 'til we reach the top. The pathways form a giant star if you look down. There's nothing quite like it."

Endeared, he asked, "How did you find that out?"

If your smile was anything to go by, the memory was very fond to you. "The first time I passed an audition, my parents took me up here and told me to look down. I was terrified of heights back then but they told me some things were worth conquering fears for." You let out a seraphic laugh at the memory. "I saw the giant star . . . and I swore that I'd be a bigger star than it one day; that all their sacrifices would be worth it. They did their best to support me and my pipe dream. I would pay back their labor, ten-fold."

"And you did," Lockwood said in an out-of-breath kind of way. You didn't know what to make of it.

"And I did," you whispered in reply. "I even scribbled my promise somewhere in here. I don't remember where exactly. May have been scratched off."

"Maybe," Lockwood chuckled, leaning his side against the wall; hiding your kiddish penmanship from your view. He had no explanation as to why he did, but he'd rather you to focus on the present. You achieved a lot between then and now. He thought it was much nicer to look forward than to look back.

He didn't realize how long the trip to the top would be. The silence didn't feel tense or forced, it was comfortable. Like an air of understanding had made the air warm instead of still.

Perhaps it was you and how unguarded you had become since stepping into the gondola, but all he knew was that your honest heart inspired him to be brave. He took a leap in a brightly painted gondola, miles up from the ground, just about to touch the clouds.

"My family would have loved seeing this," he said.

Your eyes tore away from the view to look at him. Curiosity whirling in those eyes of yours. "Where is your family? I don't think I've seen them. Are they abroad?"

When you looked at him like that, he forgot all his fears. "They aren't around anymore."

Your expression heartened. You turned all your attention to him. "I'm so sorry, Anthony. I shouldn't have—"

"No," he interrupted you, a ghost of a smile on his face. "I want you to know."

Your lips quivered, forming something that was a half-smile, half-frown. "I don't know what to say..."

"You don't have to say anything. I just thought you should know." His eyes fell to his knees, picking at the frays of his coat sleeves to distract himself. "My parents were researchers. They wanted to know what rituals other cultures had to communicate with spirits and keep themselves safe. They were working when they passed away. My sister, Jessica, she was ghost-touched." Everything came out when he was looking directly at you. Knowing you were paying attention was solace enough. "You should have seen the ghost when I was done with him, ha. As for my family . . . Even if they're not around anymore, they continue to remind me of the most valuable lessons. I do my best to never forget."

"Must be why you're so protective of Lucy and George," you said lightly, offering him a sunrise of a smile that brought back the color into the world.

"I am," he said with renewed confidence. "I'd do anything for them."

"Like make deals with prissy, troubled actresses?" you jested, bumping your knee against his.

His lips twitched, threatening a smile. "Yeah." He bumped his knee to yours but didn't move away, content with being close to you in any way you'd have him. "Exactly."

A smile crept up your face. "You have a wonderful family now, Anthony."

"I would say the same but I realize I haven't met them yet."

You threw your head back, laughing. The sound was so precious, he wished he had half the hearing of Lucy to remember it well. "Someday, Anthony. Someday..."

"I'll hold you to it."

The light that filtered in turned yellow, touching your face with gold. The sun was dipping between the far hills and, finally, your gondola had reached the pinnacle of the wheel.

You gently cupped his chin to turn his attention to the view. Your touch made his breath hitch, but the view had successfully stolen the air from his lungs. Even in his wildest dreams, he couldn't have predicted just how breath-taking the view was.

True to your word, the amusement park was laid out in a way that made the pathways draw a star—the stall lights that began to appear accentuated the shape. The stripped roofs of the attractions were like swirling patterns that encircled the the display. For lack of a better word, it was stupendous.

Your voice matched the sereneness of the moment. "My grandparents said that seeing fireworks from the top of a ferris wheel was an experience like no other, but with the Problem and the curfew, we might never be able to see something like it..."

"Wouldn't hurt to dream though, would it?"

You chuckled. "No, it wouldn't..."

Vaguely, in the reflection of the window, he saw your smile. A true, unfiltered smile. It's the brightest you'd ever appeared to him, and it was worlds better than the view you were gawking over.

The magic fizzled when the gondola began to decend, bringing you closer to earth and away from the utopia in the middle of a ferris wheel.

He couldn't recognize you once your mask came back on. Lockwood didn't realize why until he saw a flash of light in the corner of his eye.

The gazette had spilled coffee all over a perfectly good day.

—

!! LOCKWOOD'S DARLING

Recipients, we can confirm that there is a blooming romance between London's favorite Starlet and Lockwood & Co.'s charismatic leader. In the middle of a busy week for both individuals, they set aside time for a romantic ferris wheel ride in Starcrest Amusement Park—an ideal recreational venue for families and couples. See also: additional reports from our inside sources on page 7.

!! A DARLING'S DARLING

Recipients, we have more news on London's most fetching young couple. Both Darling and Lockwood have been growing bolder in putting their relationship in the spotlight. Recent reports state that Darling had invited Lockwood and Company to her film set — a feat of trust we haven't seen from her until she'd been swept of her feet by her latest and only suitor, Anthony Lockwood. He even presented her a bouquet of her favored flowers upon visiting. Backstage photographs from our insider on page 3!

!! A NOT VERY INVISIBLE STRING

Recipients, London's most captivating young couple was spotted wearing matching red-string bracelets, shifting to the 'private but not secret' path in their relationship. However, we always fetch you the ripest updates on their heart-stopping romance. More on page 4!

—

You were more than pleased by the sound of swishing newspaper and the snip of scissors. George had extracted another pretty picture of the recent news and hung it on the wall of achievements.

"Featured on a handful of headlines and it hasn't even been a year," Lockwood said, sounding very pleased with himself. He barely lifted a finger and Lockwood and Co. already had five additional clippings to their wall. "Gazette patrons are calling in to have us take care of visitors with all this media exposure." He set his hands on the stair newel and set his chin on them, looking up at you. It may have been a trick of a light but he was more radiant from where you were standing. "I have you to thank for that."

"You're the one helping me," you smiled. "I haven't heard a bad word about myself or my family. The peace is . . . unsettling. They really are bent on painting you as a saint, Anthony."

"Am I not?" he smiled.

You returned it, just as joyous. "That's the charisma I need for my birthday ball."

That made him straighten and grow brighter, if that were possible. "Birthday ball?"

You nodded, returning your eyes to Lockwood & Co.'s wall of accomplishments. "Lucy and George, too. It's a black tie event, and, yes, you may bring your rapiers."

He tilted his head, jarred. "What kind of people will be in attendance if we're allowed rapiers?"

"The most terrifying kind," you said with exaggerated dread, starting for the door. "Extended family I don't know well and journalists."

He sped ahead, clicking the door open for you. "Petrifying."

"Very," you chuckled. "Can I expect you to be there?"

He leaned toward you and you deluded yourself to believe he was doing so for his own benefit, but you knew damn well that there was a camera in the corner of your eye. Lockwood had caught sight of it before you, crowding you against the doorframe to paint the stomach-fluttering picture of a boy who simply couldn't resist being near his girl.

The idea was far more appealing than it was supposed to be.

His voice sounded saccharine up close. "What kind of flowers does your mother like?"

You titlted your head. "What for?"

"It's common courtesy to gift the in-laws. It wouldn't hurt to be prepared." He grinned at you, and you couldn't help but return it.

"She likes roses, and my dad is a fan of Ferrero Rochers."

"Noted," he chirped. He tugged a strand of your hair lightly before pulling away, taking his warmth with him.

You mustered a convincing enough smile. "Goodbye, Anthony."

"Goodbye, darling starlet."

He should have known you were going to do something. You grew up under the limelight, after all.

You've kissed many boys but he hoped you don't kiss them like you kissed him. Truthfully, it was only a kiss on the cheek, but he'd recall the feeling of your lips at the most untimely moments. He was ghost-touched because he couldn't shirk it.

—

You gave them a plot of the house. So, they did expect your house to be massive. What you did not tell them was the fact that your birthday ball was a masquerade ball. Lockwood was quite struck as he watched people file in with half their faces concealed under frivolously decorated masks. Lucy and George were just as confused.

"You're sure you didn't hear her say anything about this?" Lucy asked, hugging her arms as the evening chill began to creep in.

"Positively. Would I lie about something like this?" Lockwood replied, readjusting his grip on the generous bouquet of roses.

"Lie or not, we have to head in eventually. Unless your girl has a butler or handmaid who'd fetch us," George nipped. It was bad enough that Lockwood had forced him into a suit, but he had to stand in the freezing cold while passerbys walked right into the grandeur of your family's estate. The chandeliers casted gold silhouettes across the shadows. George bet it was warm in there. "Perhaps a visitor will come put us out of our misery."

"Keep your shirt on, George," Lockwood said firmly. "Perhaps having us enter without decoration was her intention."

"Who goes to a masquerade ball without a mask?" George scoffed.

"Lockwood & Co., apparently." Lucy rolled her eyes. She cast a nervous glance behind her but found lanterns had been lit. They smelt of lavender, reassuring her that despite your family's reputation, you weren't ignorant to the Problem. "Shall we head inside or face the treacherous cold?"

Lockwood, thoroughly done with their snideness, promptly decided on the former. He rolled his shoulders back and righted his posture before joining the line to the threshold.

"I see a buffet," Lucy said with new-found energy. Suddenly, the cold wasn't so unforgiving.

"Is that a chocolate fountain?" George inquired. Even if he did his best to keep his tone even, they caught the subtle intonation on the word 'chocolate'.

"Compose yourselves," Lockwood reminded primly. "we are representatives of the agency as well as guests, so, do try to mingle before losing yourselves in the smorgasbord."

"Sure."

"Absolutely."

Lockwood didn't know who said what, but he knew their answers were merely supplementary. They would bolt for the buffet as soon as the made it past the front door. At least their concerns about the lack of disguise were put to rest.

As they neared the doors, the warmth from the inside began to thaw away their frigidness. By the time they stepped into your abode, they were swallowed by the luxury. The word 'cold' didn't exist in a place as decadent as this.

The velvet curtains were pulled back fully, showcasing ceiling-length windows that glimmered with reflections of your guests, . A large chandelier illuminated the ballroom, washing everyone in supple, golden light. It brought out everyone's best features. Even the floor was polished so perfectly, it could have been a mirror.

If he didn't know better, Lockwood would have thought he walked right into a fairytale. He didn't realize Lucy and George had made their escape until he looked behind himself to find them gone.

He didn't have to idle by for very long. Like how sun rays pierce through storm clouds, you parted the crowd. You shone under the chandelier-light, a star put on earth, and you smiled so brightly he had to think you only smile like that for him. Lockwood lost his words, but his mouth was moving.

You were chuckling when you neared. Only when you dodged the roses and leaned on your toes to kiss his cheek did he realize that you didn't supply yourself with a mask either. His earlier guess had been right.

Whatever mirage he was in the middle of was cut through by two more figures coming into view; your parents, most likely. You resembled them a lot.

His joints went rigid but he was experienced enough to project an easygoing energy. All while he repressed bubbling exclamations.

He played on his best smile and reached for your father's outstretched hand. They met in the middle for a firm handshake.

"You must be the lad our little darling speaks so highly of," Mr. Darling chuckled. He had the kind of smile that put everyone in the room at ease. It reached his eyes. He must be the one you inherited your eye-smile from. A nail of guilt hit him right on the head because it was obvious that the man didn't know his daughter's romance was a fad. "Anthony, is it?"

"You're correct," Lockwood said amiably. His smile widened as he watched your mother's eyes gravitate to the bouquet of roses. "Anthony Lockwood, at your service, sir. And ma'am . . . These are for you." He offered the arrangement to your mother, who accepted them with the grace of a royal. You must have inherited that from her. He would have found it adoring if another strike of guilt didn't come down on him.

"How courteous," your mother said, hiding a smile behind her newly acquired bouquet. Her eyes moved to you and you shared a look Lockwood didn't quite understand. His stomach churned. Your mother then shot a peculiar look at him — like she could see right through him. It made his blood run cold.

Lockwood didn't have the option to ponder on it. Your father had seized Lockwood's attention with a firm pat on the shoulder. Lockwood had to tense his back to keep himself from toppling over.

As grayed as your father was, he had the kind of voice that commanded authority. "Don't be coy, boy. You can call us Ma and Pa. If our little starlet likes you enough to introduce you to us, you must be something special."

Lockwood glanced at you, momentarily paused by your smile. "She's the special one between us, sir—"

"Pa," your father corrected.

"Pa," Lockwood rectified smilingly. He wasn't sure what about it made him feel so melancholic and comforted at the same time. "I should be groveling at her feet. I'm very lucky to have caught her attention."

"I like the way you talk. It's no wonder she's so taken by you, Anthony."

Your father surprised Lockwood with a boisterous laugh. He was sure the room tremored for a moment. Lockwood was happy enough to laugh with him, the same time his heart was pounding against his ribcage.

The exchange was interrupted by your mother's squeal of delight. She had found the Ferrero Rochers laying in the bed of roses. She, with bright eyes, brandished them to her husband and Mr. Darling looked positively thrilled by the surprise.

"And thoughtful, too." Your father gave Lockwood the kind of nod you'd only get after you ask for their daughter's hand in marriage. "He's a keeper, little darling."

Lockwood's smile shook. Your mother looked at him strangely once more. He tried to regained himself.

Guilt.

Guilt.

GUILT.

It was drowning him, yet, he kept his cool. (At least, tried to.) You didn't seem to notice the change in his attitude.

You, with your rosy cheeks and resplendent smile, hooked your arm with Lockwood's and said, "I know, pa. That's the plan."

—

"That was not the plan," Lockwood respired, loosening his tie as soon as he stepped into open air. Even when he breathed in lavender, his lungs felt as if they were stuffed with cotton.

You had lead him to a balcony to give him a moment of reprieve only to be met with a glare. So much for being bad at acting, you were convinced his earlier niceties were real.

You regarded him with crossed arms, your cool façade practically a wall between you. "I invited, and you came. That's all that happened here."

"You made a spectacle of me," he rasped, his breath coming out as frost. "I would have been alright with that, but you brought your parents into this. They don't even know you're doing this, do they?"

The way he motioned between you as he said 'this' made you feel like someone's dirty secret. The way you faltered was laughable. Your heart clenched and your nails dug into your palms. You replied the only way you knew how: stronger.

"I don't see what the big issue is, Anthony," you scoffed. "I pay you, you do as I say. What if my parents don't know it's a ploy? The point is to set the stage for the press. I told you that."

"God," he laughed without feeling, raking a hand through his hair. He was heaving like he had just ran a marathon, face turning red. "You don't get it do you? We don't play with people. I don't want to play with people. And that's your family, starlet! Does it not bother you that you are lying to their faces?"

"No, it doesn't," you replied, stoically, standing your ground. "and neither should you. You know I'm doing this for them."

"Are you?" Where you stepped back, he stepped forward. He scoffed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "It's ironic that a whole ballroom of people hiding behind masks are more honest with themselves than you are to yourself."

"What are you implying?" Your words come out through gritted teeth.

He stood tall, more intimidating than you'd ever seen him. The gauntness in his eyes were more pronounced then. His stature made your composure slip. His words made your knees buckle. "You're an actress. You're a professional at what you do. Even in your own home, you have a façade. Maybe you are, in some twisted way, doing this for the sake of your family, but I can't see that anymore. You're stringing them along . . . As far as I can see, you're just as bad as the gazette makes you out to be. I don't even know if you've been lying to me for the sake of keeping your mask on."

You feel the full force of his words drop down on you. Taking a few steps isn't enough to quiet the rush of throughts crowding your mind. All you see is his despondent face and a hundred and one headlines flash before your eyes.

He takes your hand—making you wish the circumstances were different—before he dropped his red-string bracelet into your palm. It felt heavier than it was supposed to. You couldn't pry your eyes away.

When he turned and left, your thoughts turned into white noise. He had taken every joy with him, deserting you in the muted chatter of what was supposed to be a celebration.

—

!! TROUBLE IN PARADISE

Recipients, it is to our sorrow that the couple that took the country by storm, Darling and Lockwood, seems to have called it quits. Lockwood no longer flaunts the bracelet that had started a trend for couples on this side of the globe. It is unknown whether he had lost it during a skirmish or willingly stopped wearing his. With Darling's trail of broken hearts, it's safe to assume the worst. The Starlet seems to be continuing activities, as usual. The ice princess, unmoved by a romance put to the grave. On a lighter note, read more about Lockwood & Co.'s achievements on page 7.

—

The gazette went for the jugular with that one. For once, they wrote something that had some truth to it. You didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Even your newly developed habit of morning walking barely helped your heartbreak. You've never mourned for something that never was, but, damn, did it hurt. You knew you were in too deep when your feet carried you right to 35 Portland Row.

You stared at the agency plaque for an unnecessary amount of time before you folded yourself over and hugged your knees. At the time, George and Lucy would be out running errands before a case and Lockwood would be arranging their bags inside. Perhaps the security of knowing their schedule made you so confident to sit and wallow the death of what could have been.

Yet, you couldn't mourn that in peace. The silence was interrupted by a shutter. You lifted your head and spotted a paparazzo who didn't even try to hide his presence. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties and already fading. He had a smile on but it set off alarms in your head. You didn't have to ask. You had a feeling. The gazette was all too good at dampening a sunny day.

You stood up quickly but found yourself backed against the wrought-iron gate.

"The Darling Starlet of London... Quite the title. Never thought I'd get to see you in person." His smile widened. You didn't budge. Even with your fiercest glare, he didn't get the message. He looked down at his camera before his smile fell. "Do you know how upset we were when you started going out with that... that pathetic excuse of a human—"

"He's an agent," you cut off. "and he's the reason degenerates like you get to walk the streets without being ghost-touched at every turn."

"Degenerates?" He laughed, covering his mouth. "Oh, Darling Starlet—" The name you found home in was chemical coming from him. "you should know that we made you. He's lucky the chief likes him enough. You'd be nothing without us."

"Without the gazette?" You scoffed, tempted to roll your eyes at the fool. "You do more harm than good."

"But we make or break a career." His hand came away from his mouth, revealing a smile made of pointed teeth. "and what would happen to your folks if your reputation makes a sharp decline, hm? Your father needing all that medicine, your mother taking care of him... What would happen if our little darling turned out to be a little bitch?"

Your anger was boiling over, but the fear of that possibility had crippled you. Words died in your throat. Your will fizzled to nothing. You felt blood drip into your palm, nails clenched into your flesh.

You were still trying to regain yourself when the cold of the gate was pardoned from your back. A familiar warmth replaced it, an arm coming around your middle and a voice that quelled all your fears sounded in your ears. A rapier crossed the distance, severing the neckstrap around the photographer and sending his camera into the pavement. It's lens shattered and the photographer let out a yell.

"If you ever talk to my girlfriend like that again, a broken camera will be the least of your problems."

"Anthony J. Lockwood," the paparazzo snorted. "Your agency hinges on the exposure you get from us. Don't play hero when you know you're defending a sham."

"I'm defending my girlfriend," Lockwood's grip tightened on your hip, and his rapier shined in the light. Your heart did immeasurable things in lieu of Lockwood's doing. "and if you ever threaten my family like this again, I will come after you. The gazette isn't the only publication in London, and I've built a rapport with enough people in the industry to secure my place. I'm not afraid of you."

"You—"

Lockwood turned you around, covering you from view and urging you toward the door. "Head inside, darling. I'll take care of this."

You looked up at him, searching his eyes for resentment or even hate, but found none. His eyes were sunlight through bottles of whiskey. The smile had disarmed you, finally getting through to you.

You took a few hesitant steps before he nodded, assuring you that it was alright. He made sure you were safety inside before he returned his attention to the photographer.

"I do have morals. So, I'll be civil." Lockwood poised his blade. " That said, get off my street before I show you how proficient I am at my job."

—

Some part of you was desperately hoping that things would smooth themselves out after what had transpired. When he offered you his coat before telling you that he'd be walking you home, you knew you were in over your head.

That same night, you flipped the events over in your head. Clenching and unclenching your newly bandaged hand to remind yourself that it was real.

You didn't get much sleep with his voice echoing in your ears and his eyes burned into the back of your eyelids.

—

Your mother must have known something was wrong with you. You mistaked salt for sugar in your morning coffee, you walked into a wall on more than one occasion (a large vase had fallen victim to your daze), and you refused ice cream for the first time in your life.

In the middle of the day, Mama Darling decided that she'd seen enough. She set her knitting things down and urged you to put your book down. You obliged because you couldn't absorb the words anyway.

"My darling girl," your mother started. Her tone is so heartfelt, you felt yourself lax in your seat. A smile came to your face as she caressed your cheek, just as she'd always done. "You've always been such a kind child. So selfless . . . Your only flaw is that you need to know when to let go of your fear and let us handle ourselves, dearest."

You stared at her, lost. She simply smiled, taking your hands in hers. "I know your recent escapades with Anthony were a play, my dear girl." Your spine calcified, heat prickled your eyes. "I always knew. I'm honest when I say he's good for you. He brings out your ugly smile— Don't frown, I mean it in a romantic sense. I know the look of love when I see it, dearest. Don't sacrifice it for pride or fear, my girl. Go get him back."

"Ma," you shuttered, pausing to collect yourself. You were choking on yourself and that wasn't the worst of it. Your vision had blurred from your tears. "you and Pa need me to focus on my career. I have to—"

"No, you don't." She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and swiped her thumb across your cheek. "You'll always be a princess in the eyes of the public, dearest. Any person with two eyes and common sense will see that. You just have to break out of your shell, actually talk to the journalists. Just not the ones from the Daily Gazette—they are something else entirely."

"They are, aren't they?" You manage to laugh through your tears. Only your mother could make you feel these many things at once. She saw right through you. "Right now, Anthony doesn't even want to talk to me. I'm so scared that if I try, he'll tell me everything I don't want to hear. I'm scared he'll see all the nasty things the gazette talked about and hate me for them."

"Darling," your mother said sternly. "we just went over the fact that the gazette is complete and utter bullshit."

You can't help but snort. The rare curse from her had broken through to you. "Sorry, Ma."

"Don't be sorry, my dear girl, be brave." She flipped your hand over and drew lines across your palm. She did it three times before you realized what she was doing; she was drawing stars. "Some things are worth conquering fears for."

The Starcrest ferris wheel. Stolen smiles. Dreams of fireworks.

Your mother smiled at the renewed light in your eyes. She didn't question you as you bolted to the exit.

"Home before dinner! You may bring Anthony!" she called just before you smiled and closed the door behind you.

—

"Lucy?"

"No, this is George."

The world must hate you. You couldn't do much about that. You coiled the telephone wire around your finger as you took a deep breath. "This is... darling."

"I don't know anyone with a ridiculous name like that. Sorry."

You bit your cheek, inhaling the urge to sigh. "The prissy actress."

"Oh. You." He shuffled, crossing his arms. "Speak, before I hang up."

"I have a favor to ask of you," you winced, already expecting the worst.

"What's in it for me?"

You took a breath. "What do you want? Biscuits? An allowance? Access to the VIP collection in the library—"

"All of that, and you have yourself a deal."

"Done."

—

"George— You're usually against room invasion," Lockwood quipped, allowing himself to be dragged up the steps. "and Lucy wouldn't be happy about this."

"When I tell her what I bargained, she'll be fine with it."

"Bargained?"

"Not that important right now, Lockwood. Sit. And for all things grotesque, don't move."

George had pushed Lockwood into the mustard seat beside the attic window. The latter was ready to protest, confusion evident.

A resounding pop had interrupted him. The lights in the room shifted. The shadows stretched and receeded. It took a moment for Lockwood to realize that there were fireworks going off outside.

On the third floor, he had a bird's eye view of the shower of sparks in varying shades of blues, reds, and yellows. He was wondering where the firework show had come from, but his questions were put to rest with a singular look onto the street.

Other than the tins of fireworks, he saw you—looking much like a panicked frog while lighting the fireworks. You looked absolutely ridiculous. His perceptions of you had been thrown to the wind, and he couldn't help but smile.

The last firework burst into pink sparks, lighting up his eyes and your silhouette; embedding itself into his memories. When the air had cleared, he cracked the window open.

"What are you doing down there? Have you gone mad?"

You cupped your hands around your mouth, shouting an answer at him. "Lighting fireworks! You like dem?"

He shook his head, endeared. "How do you even know how to light them?"

"I don't! It was about time I learned!"

"You really are a lunatic..." he chuckled.

You cocked your head. "What did you say?"

"Come in!"

You showed him your thumbs, scuttling to the front door.

Lockwood had never raced down the stairs so quickly before. He apologized quickly to George, who he had almost bumped to ground floor, and Lucy, who had just gotten home with groceries. He raced for the door; hair a mess, breathing short, but smiling widely. He greeted you with the same smile he had on when you first met.

Cute as he was, you couldn't take it anymore. You reached up, fingers brushing his forehead and fixing the strands that had been bothering you for ages.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing you said. You were still heaving from outrunning fireworks but he wasn't in much better shape. "I was scared, and my first instinct was to act like I don't care, but I do. I care so much. About you."

"I got the message," he laughed, looking over your shoulder to the smoke remnants of the showcase.

"No, I'm not done." You took a breath, bracing yourself for it. "I want you to know about me, too. Pa has been sick for a long time. He worked through it so they could afford my commute to and from auditions. The money Ma made was used for medicine or keeping me in school. We struggled for a long time. Some days, I couldn't sleep because I felt so helpless. I wanted to give back to them with every fiber of my being. When I finally could, I never wanted to go back to having nothing. I was willing to do anything to stay where I was—"

"Darling, I get it—"

"—and I lost sight of who I was doing it for. I was so comfortable in allowing anything just to keep a pristine reputation—"

"Darling—"

"—and I hurt you. I never meant to, I'm so sorry. I realize now that I was wrong and I should have been more honest with you because I don't just want to be colleagues anymore—"

"Oh, shut up already."

He bunched your shirt in his fist, pulling you to him with the anticipation born from a thousand dreams. When his lips touched yours, it felt like all of this was worth the wait.

You were sweet and a little smokey, he could have laughed but settled with smiling into the kiss. You stole a breath from him when you nipped at his bottom lip. He could have spent the night like that but the resounding boom from outside made the two of you jump, breaking away from The Best Kiss Ever™ to see the last of the fireworks finish off the moment with golden sparks.

Lockwood couldn't stay upset. After a short laugh, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him right back to you—giving him another kiss to think about for the rest of his life.

—

!! THE COUPLE OF THE CENTRURY, BACK AGAIN !!

Recipients, after a short-lived break, the couple of the century are back—stronger than ever! Various photographs have been taken of them: Dancing in the foyer of the Darling estate, partaking in Mrs. Darling's notorious tea parties, and running away from premiers to steal time for themselves. To see more of them, see page 4!

That was possibly the last good article written about anyone coming from the gazette. Not long after that, they began to be brazen in their attempts to tarnish your reputations. They published photos of the two of you flipping off the photographer, spitting your tongues out at unwanted paparazzi, and spreading the most degrading rumors you had ever heard.

At the same time, the gazette had been losing viewership to London Squire, who was only gaining traction with every article written about the It Couple of Europe. Soon enough, the gazette had lost all credibility; reduced to a mere scandal sheet. It was a breath of fresh air.

The public was enamored by your honest nature and respected the fact that you'd prefer to keep your relationship private. Though, you would be the talk of the town once the Squire got a hold of an exclusive interview.

The topic? Vows, silver rings, and rapiers to cut wedding cake.

DARLING-LOCKWOOD

— It's now official. Our Darling Starlet is off the market after exchanging vows with Lockwood & Co.'s founder and president, Anthony Lockwood. The union took place this weekend in a private ceremony with close family. The couple reveals that the ceremony was grand but they would like nothing more than to keep it to themselves. We are honored that both Mr. & Mrs. Lockwood has given us the opportunity to publish a few pictures taken during their most special day. The writers here at London Squire send all our warmest regards to the newly weds.

The picture wasn't much; Just a scene recreated from the movie that earned you the title of 'Darling'. Even when you shared his name, he persisted in calling you his darling starlet. Though, he takes the utmost pride when he does call you his missus.

NOTE ➺ i don't know if i can get all my 1989 tv songfics done in time but i plan to get them all published before the end of 2023 !

i hope this finds you when you need it. as always, don't be afraid to leave your thoughts in the comments or reblogs. i love to read feedback so don't hold back!!

⌠ @novelizt 2023 ⌡

[heesdreamer]

SILENCED (4)

MASTERLIST

GENRE ➩ enhypen zombie apocalypse au!

SUMMARY ➩ navigating life 1 year post end of the world was already difficult as you avoided rotting corpses with hefty appetites and groups with various bad intentions. things get harder when you run into a group of survivors, 7 boys who make it impossible to run away.

WC ➩ 6k

WARNINGS ➩ death gore blood um zombies and everything the apocalypse brings…

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ Hello, me again lol Sorry it’s been so long since the last update on this I’ve had other stuff I was prioritizing but thank you to the people following and enjoying this story! The updates are a lot smaller than my usual works and that bugs me a bit but I have a lot planned and it won’t be such a long gap between each chapter from now on lol. Reminder to check out the playlist for hints and general vibe! NOT PROOFREAD but u knew that

“What are you even talking about dude, I beat you five to one easy. It wasn’t even close.” Jake’s voice was laughing out as he rested back on the couch, swinging an arm forward in emphasis towards his friend.

“No you don’t get it, if we had a rematch I’d whoop you.” Jay was quick to respond, a gloomy look on his face from losing so terribly and the younger boys broke into a fit of giggles at his attitude.

The day had been quiet, picking up each other from school one by one and heading back to Jake’s place. His mom had been out of town for the month on a business trip and it’d become their official club house for the time being, messier than it should’ve been with blankets covering any surface that could serve as a temporary bed.

Heeseung was pushing through the front door with a strange expression on his face, glancing behind in the hallway before locking the deadbolt and peaking out of the peephole. Sweat was coating his face and the other boys stopped laughing as they looked at him.

“It’s that bad out there now?” Jungwon was asking in a soft voice and Heeseung jumped a bit before glancing at him and giving him a solid nod.

News stations had been buzzing for weeks but nobody paid too close of attention outside of the people with particularly raging anxiety. Reports of cannibalisms, first in America and then the neighboring countries.

The boys hadn’t thought much of it, some crazy new drug that would never make it this far or mass hysteria. Then it was announced that it was a disease, something that couldn’t be helped and borders could not stop and things started to get a bit more wary. Some stores were shutting down, families leaving to their summer houses out in the country and yesterday Jay had been cut from work early.

“I don’t know, I don’t think we can wait anymore.” Heeseung was muttering and Jake sat up on the couch, raising an eyebrow in bewilderment.

“You mean like leave? Where would we even go?” He was asking and his question made them all fall silent, knowing he was right and they didn’t have a safe haven to disappear to like others did. They all had families but they weren’t extremely close now that they were older, spending most of their time together and only coming home to get scolded for poor grades.

Heeseung was shaking his head and turning towards them fully to scan the room, freezing up slightly when his head count came up one short. “Where’s Riki?”

“He.. had that exam I think. Must’ve had to stay late.” Sunoo was saying it slowly to try and explain but a feeling of dread settled over everybody at the realization he was out there alone, not yet realizing how quickly things were falling apart.

“Is it really that bad Heeseung?” Jay was asking in confusion, just yesterday they all were walking around casually outside of the few religious nut jobs screaming about the end of days.

Heeseung didn’t say anything for a long time, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to relay what he had saw or if he just wanted to let them think things were okay for a few minutes longer. He knew he had witnessed stuff that wasn’t going to be fixed anytime soon, stuff that would change how they lived from now on and he wasn’t sure he was ready to fully embrace that.

He was clearing his throat to speak but the words fell short and he made his way over to the kitchen counter instead, taking Jungwon’s moms keys and glancing at him for permission.

The younger boy looked confused but he gave him a small nod, eyes widening a touch when the oldest hesitated before going back into the kitchen and returning with the largest cooking knife available.

“Woah, you can’t go out there with that. You’ll get arrested dude.” Sunghoon was rushing out, suddenly paying attention and alert now as he sat up off the couch and raised his hands towards Heeseung.

“I don’t think there’s anybody left to arrest me.” He was spitting out but he wasn’t angry at his friends, just stricken with fear and anxiety at the thought of returning back outside but he couldn’t stand the idea of Riki being out there alone.

“Well I’ll come with you.” Jay was announcing and standing up, wiping off the chip crumbs from his sweater. Heeseung almost denied him and demanded he stayed here and kept the doors locked but he figured he might not be able to make it alone and Jay was definitely the most capable of the two of them, strong and sturdy despite his carefree personality.

“The rest of you need to stay put. I don’t care what you hear, or how long it takes for us to come back, you can’t open that door.” He was warning the group and they all paused in fearful hesitance before slowly nodding, the idea of not searching for their friends after a period of time leaving them unsettled.

The two eldest were making their way out of the apartment building, stopping at the entry door to push a vending machine in front of it. Jay looked confused when Heeseung asked him to do it but he followed suit anyways, not wanting to deny the orders considering the fear in his friends face.

Jungwon’s moms van was large and loud, rattling when you pressed too hard on the gas pedal and squealing every time it forced its large frame to a stop. They didn’t drive it often, outside of trips to the beach and going through drive thru’s, and Heeseung was grateful that the roads were uncharacteristically empty as he amateurly made his way through the city streets.

It was complete silent as they pulled up to their youngest friends school, both holding their breath as they leaned forward to see out of the driver side window and try to catch sight of any sign of life.

Heeseung’s heart was throbbing and he felt sick, almost too scared to go and find the boy in case he saw something he wasn’t able to ever forget, something he wouldn’t be able to move past. Jay’s hand was reaching forward to take his arm and he glanced at the other boy, seeing him give him a firm nod with a look of determination. Heeseung gave him a weary smile in return but it was the boost of strength he needed to open the door.

There was debris around the area from the days of mild chaos leading up to this and Jay bent down to grab a particularly long piece of metal, steadying it in front of him like a baseball bat as they got closer to the school doors.

They were unlocked and they quickly realized something was wrong judging by the papers scattered along the hallway, backpack’s abandoned in classrooms like they had to evacuate fast and Heeseung could smell something foul that caused his nose to turn up in disgust.

“Riki.” It was a yelled whisper echoing through the halls, carrying the noise all the way down the silent building until it was reaching the end and bouncing back towards them.

“Hyung? Is that you?” A scared voice was coming from the end of the hallway, shaky and muffled like he was hidden behind something and the two older boys let out a sigh of relief at the confirmation that he was at least okay enough to respond.

They were swift in their approach towards the room the voice had come from, forgetting to be cautious because of their relief and rush to get out of there but they quickly froze when a figure was coming out of one of the classrooms in the middle of the hallway.

Heeseung automatically recognized the signs of the creatures he had seen earlier, staring at the man who was staggering into the hall and turning towards them with his nose in the air. His eyes were yellow and vacant and he had dark liquid around his mouth, still moving his jaw like he was finishing a large meal. The man groaned loudly in their direction, bordering on a screech and the boys could do nothing but stare.

“What the fuck?” Jay was rushing out in an anxious tone, glancing over to his friend who was remaining still and watching it carefully. “Dude what’s wrong with him, what the fuck?”

“He’s got it.” Heeseung was stating matter of factly and Jay paled at the realization, shaking his head in disbelief and faltering backwards a few steps.

Heeseung was approaching the creature slowly and they both jumped when it reared its head and roared in agitation, sloppily approaching them and not faltering even when it almost slipped and crashed into the floor. They watched it approached speedily and when it got near they both circled around it’s back, confusing it momentarily but not long enough before it was attacking again.

The creature pinned Heeseung back against the wall, his hands flailing in front of him as he tried his hardest to shove it away with cries and groans of fear. It’s strength was double what a normal man’s would be and he was seconds from giving up when it was slumping to the ground.

Heeseung dropped off the wall and scrambled over to Jay who was panting with the piece of scrap metal in front of him, dripping thick syrupy blood now that he had smashed it into the figure.

They both watched in horror, attempting to catch their breath, as it begun to rise off the floor again. Shakily standing back to its full height and snarling again at them, seemingly angrier now.

“Oh you’ve gotta be shitting me.” Heeseung was panting out as he stared up at its cracked skull, half of its face sliding downwards and a bloodied mess from the force of Jay’s swing mixed with days of decay.

Both boys watched it as it started to approach again and then Jay was letting out a loud scream, taking a few steps forward and swinging the metal back down on its shoulder. They both froze in anticipation and then fear when the creature didn’t react to the hit at all.

“Oh what the fu-“ He was cut off as the creature swung at him and he dove out of the way with a grunt. “How do you kill this thing?”

“Why the fuck would I know?” Heeseung was screaming back in bewilderment, glancing around in confusion to try and find a way out of the situation but coming up with nothing as he turned back to keep his attention on the man who kept getting more and more unhinged the louder they avoided him and his gaping mouth.

The creature wasn’t getting winded whilst the boys were barely managing to swing their arms anymore, using this to its advantage and catching Jay off guard. Heeseung watched in horror as it pinned his friend to the hallway floor, listening to his screams of terror and gasp of air from under its heavy frame.

He didn’t think twice before he was rushing forward, and throwing the entirety of his weight into its body. He let out a guttural scream and pulled his arm back as far as it could go before driving the knife forward into its softened skull. Jay was, thankfully, getting the memo and rolling out of the way before the creature slammed onto the floor, now fully lifeless.

Both boys collapsed to the floor in fits of gasps and pants. Nobody spoke for a few minutes from shock and then Jay’s tired voice was ringing out. “Dude… you just totally saved my life.”

It was silent again for a few seconds before Heeseung was letting out a soft chuckle, launching the other into a fit of delirious laughter until they were both cracking up with the body in between them.

“Holy shit.” Both boys were pausing at the sound of Riki’s voice, a lot closer now as he pushed his way out of the classroom and was watching them from the end of the hallway. “You guys totally killed Mr. Kim.”

“And then what?” Your voice was completely enthralled as you spoke, leaning forward towards the campfire so your elbows were on your knees and you thought you saw Jake’s lips curl up from the corner of your eye.

“Well… we went back to get the others. We tried to get to family but..” Jay was trailing off but you nodded in understanding and he gave you a grateful look before sighing and continuing with his story. “Heeseung found a map in the pocket of a dead guy on the highway out of the city and he had circled the general area that you found us in, so we assumed it was safe.”

“And it was.” Jake was adding and it was some of his first words of the night, having remained mostly silent and to himself throughout your trip.

It had been two days since you left and you knew everybody was feeling unsettled by the fact you were heading back home now to the unknown. It was a mostly uneventful journey, not stopping much or sleeping more than a few hours with a shared determination to get there and back as soon as humanly possible.

You felt like the universe had cut you a break when you arrived to the veterinary hospital Jungwon had seen on the map, only encountering a handful of walkers and finding some medicine that should do the trick fairly quickly. But you knew the universe wasn’t kind nor was she fond of handing out breaks so your stomach clenched with the idea of what could be waiting for you back at the camp.

Sunghoon could’ve died from blood loss and infection and passed along the traumatizing act of putting him down before he turned, or he could’ve turned in the night and taken out a few of his brothers before anybody was awake enough to put a stop to it.

You knew the two boys with you were thinking similar things so you’d ask for a story to try and keep their minds off of it, listening to Jay carefully as he recounted the first time they’d killed a walker and how happy Riki was that it was his mean teacher that often stuck him in detention.

“Heeseung was our leader before he was ever our leader.” Jay was remarking as he finished his story, scooting down more into the dirt so his back was fully pressed against the rotted log he was resting on.

Jake hummed in agreement and you didn’t say anything, thinking about the statement and the conversation you’d had with the eldest boy about the weight of his responsibilities. You felt a longing for him suddenly, missing him and the others more than you thought you would and you could tell the two with you were thinking the same thing now that it was falling silent again.

You didn’t say anything as you were standing up to stomp out the fire, knowing it was already a risk to strike it up in the first place but especially to sleep with it roaring.

The three of you followed the same routine as the past two nights, stringing up cans in a circle around where you were sleeping so if anything, dead or alive, bumped into it you’d have some form of warning before it was coming down directly on top of you. You laid your head down in the pile of leaves and tried to ignore the sticks sitting uncomfortably under your shoulder blades, falling asleep to the sounds of the forest and the two boys breathing.

——

You’d been walking for a few hours before seeing anything familiar but your body was alert to the fact you were getting closer to the camp again, this time with a backpack full of supplies and a prayer in the back of your mind that things would be okay.

It didn’t take long for you to realize something was off about your surroundings, the woods unusually silent and resting like all the animals and trees were holding their breath. You raised your hand and folded it, a silent signal for the boys to stop walking and fall into a crouched position behind you.

Your eyes were hurriedly scanning over the forest floor and your heart sank when you noticed multiple pairs of tracks and footprints that wouldn’t have been from your group, having no reason to venture this far out. You waved Jake and Jay closer and they quickly shifted forward in their crouched position.

“Is it a hoard?” Jake was whispering to you when you pointed out the shoe prints in the mud, glancing at you with a worried expression. Jay’s eyes were dark with concern and his face was hard, glancing in the direction of the others and frowning.

“I don’t think so.” You were shaking your head and sighing softly as you trailed your finger around the indented mud to explain to them. “The steps are too direct and pointed, if it was walkers they’d be messy and all over the place.”

“So it’s people then.” Jay was saying matter of factly and you all feel into a heavy silence, knowing you had no choice but to continue on the path back home, regardless if there was anybody left waiting for you or not.

You didn’t bother wasting anytime, falling into fast and silent footsteps and you maneuvered your way through the woods, guns drawn and knives out of your holster in case any of the people were still around and surveilling the surrounding woods.

Jay caught sight of something long before you did and you were grateful for his hand that shot out to stop you from rushing right into the view of the man you could now see, pacing back and forth in the center of the little houses and keeping an eye out for anything out of place.

You lip curled up in a sneer but you weren’t exactly sure what to do. If it was up to you, you’d simply take him out from a distance but you didn’t know how many were inside with the boys and if any more were not here, not wanting to risk the safety of the others or the three of you by acting on impulse. Jake seemed to be thinking something similar considering he was tapping your shoulder to get your attention, indicating down to your knives after you looked at him.

You understood what he was implying but you stared at him for a few seconds to make sure he was certain, realizing you hadn’t yet discussed the groups morals when it came to the living.

His eyes were hard as he gave you a solid nod and he mouthed for Jay to have your back as you moved in silent towards the patrol. The man didn’t have time to react before you were behind him, listening to the sound of Jay whistle and bring his attention forward before you were wrapping your hand around his forehead and tilting his head back so his neck was fully exposed to you.

He let out a gurgled shout as you slid your knife across his throat, grunting softly under his weight as you tried to lower him to the ground as silently as possible.

You looked up at Jay after he was on the ground, watching him carefully as he gave you a small nod of acceptance and you sighed softly before returning it to him and waiting for Jake to come out of the woods and meet you. The three of you ducked against one of the houses, your backs pressed against the wood as you listened to try and get a guess of how many people were inside.

“I say we just kill him already.” It was a woman’s voice and she was speaking in a nasty rasp like she was a heavy smoker, your heart pounding at the sentence she spoke. “He’s half dead already, I’ll be pissed if he turns on us and takes a chunk out of my arm.”

You glanced at Jake after she was done speaking and he was already looking at you, both of you relieved to hear that she was talking about Sunghoon still being alive, immediately followed by the dread of what she was implying they should do.

“Touch him and you’ll have bigger problems than him turning.” Heeseung’s voice was speaking now and it was dropped to an octave you’d never heard it in before, cold and serious and he threatened her in a deadly tone.

You heard an annoyed scoff from a male voice before it was followed by the sound of low groans of pain that you made out to be Sunghoon’s, wincing slightly at the hurt in his cries.

“Do something then.” The males voice was speaking in a teasing manner and you heard Sunghoon groan again, likely being hit or kicked by somebody inside to prove a point towards the other boys helplessness. “Oh.. you can’t, that’s right. I forgot.”

There was more sounds after that but you couldn’t fully tell what they were, feeling sick and helpless where you were sitting until Jay was snapping his fingers and getting both of your attention back on him.

He was making signals with his hand and you swiftly understood that he was implying he wanted to rush inside and take them out before they had a chance to react or take any hostages, using the element of surprise to your advantage. Jake seemed more hesitant in the idea although you figured it was only the two of them inside the small house, seeing the car they had arrived it and doubting it could fit more than four people.

Your eyes wandered over to the body on the ground and you steadied your footing in the dirt before nodding softly to Jay and patting Jake on the back.

It went extremely fast, your mind on complete autopilot and devoid of any extreme emotion to help you get through the terrible act without hesitating or missing your shot. Jake was kicking the door open roughly and then stepping back to allow you and Jay to rush forward, relief rushing through you at the confirmation it was only two people and then followed by horror considering how easily you were able to sink your knife into the skull of the woman.

She’d barely had a second to process your arrival, eyes widening in fear and letting out a painful gasp of shock before her face was lifeless and she was crumbling to the floor.

You felt slightly sick that it had been so easy for you to kill two people in the span of minutes but you glanced up at the scared boys huddled around the house and you realized that you didn’t regret it, that you’d do it 100 times again if it was necessary.

Heeseung was tied to the radiator next to Sunghoon, clarifying the reason he hadn’t even able to stop their assault on the boy and you glanced at him to see him far paler and more lifeless than he had been when you’d seen him. He was still alive however and you were rushing to grab the supplies from your bag when you noticed the horror on the boys faces, eyes over your shoulder.

You froze up but before you could turn to see what they were seeing, a shot was ringing out close to your ear and you were completely disoriented for a few seconds.

It took awhile to process what had happened, turning your body in a panic to see a fourth man laying in the doorway of the house. His knife was still rattling against the floor from where he’d dropped it and you saw the exit wound coming out from the backside of his head. You spun back around and your heart crumbled when you saw who it was that had killed the man, saving your life by taking another’s.

Riki was holding the gun in shaky hands, barely able to keep it steady and his eyes were wide in shock and horror, keeping it pointed in your direction despite the threat being gone now.

“Riki.” You were saying softly, still frozen but raising your hands in surrender and taking a small step towards him. You didn’t necessarily think he would hurt you but he clearly wasn’t thinking straight and his fingers were still dangerously tight around the trigger. “Riki, it’s okay. You got him, he’s dead.”

His eyes shot to yours at the words and his face softened slightly, letting you approach and take the gun from his rigid hands.

He was dropping his shoulders in relief once the metal was out of his hands, shocking you by pulling you in for a tight hug that knocked the air out of your lungs. You returned it after a few seconds, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and squeezing him tightly with your eyes shut. You could hear the others moving around, untying Heeseung and greeting the others.

After Riki let you go and went to sit down in the corner and calm down, you quickly administered the medication into Sunghoon’s veins and sighed softly at the heavy breath he took at the feeling of it entering his system. You pushed his damp hair off his sweaty forehead and smiled softly at him even though he couldn’t see it, happy he had managed to fight for this long.

You were standing up again and immediately bumping into another frame, pausing until you realized it was Heeseung.

His hands were coming up to cup your face and you smiled at him in relief despite the cuts on his face and the noticeable black eye that you imagined had come from the struggle with the looters that had led to him being the only one tied up. “You gave them hell didn’t you.”

He laughed softly at your words and nodded his head, eyes gentle as he looked down at you and you felt your heart clench uncomfortably at both his expression and how much you had missed him.

You thought this about them all as the night continued on, telling them how your run had gone and listening to them laugh and tell funny stories that you didn’t fully understand but you still felt a lightness in your heart just from how excited they sounded about remembering the smallest details of things that had happened to them together in the old world.

Riki was still a but subdued after what had happened, not speaking much and staying in the corner as you all ate dinner and took sips from the liquor bottle the three of you had found on the trip. He seemed a bit out of it and your heart felt heavy after Jungwon had leaned in to whisper and explain to you that he had never killed somebody before.

You felt guilty that he had done something like that to save you, your own mistake for not assuming there was another person still outside or checking the tracks more carefully because you were too worried about them and too focus on getting inside as soon as possible. Your care was making you stupid and making you weak, leaving the youngest to lose a piece of himself to fix your mistake.

It was this that made up your mind for you, solidifying that you couldn’t stay here with them any longer or else things like this would keep happening. You’d have to continue to risk yourself for them and vice versa, you couldn’t take watching them hurt themselves in the name of saving you or each other and you knew now that they were always going to put the others and you over themselves individually.

You kept reminding yourself this as you silently packed your bag, waiting for the others to fall asleep and leave you on watch duty before you were preparing to slip out.

You’d stay in the woods outside the camp for the night and make sure nothing hurt them during your watch cycle and then you were going to disappear into the dark cover of the trees once the next person on the rotation woke up and found you missing. You left them all of the medication and food, taking nothing but your change of clothes and your knives.

The crickets were extra loud as you made your way outside, having carefully stepped over the sleeping boys and left a note with detailed instructions on which medications to give to Sunghoon and when. You included a small goodbye sentence just so they knew you hadn’t been taken and didn’t get hurt trying to find you, although you had a feeling they’d try anyways.

You were barely off the porch, your foot hitting the dirt softly and feeling the cold chill of the night when a voice behind you was causing you to jump and spin around.

“So that’s it then?” You whipped around with wide eyes but your face crumbled when you realized who it was, seeing Heeseung come out of the shadows with a hurt expression and hooded eyes. “You’re not even going to say goodbye?”

You froze as you looked at him, words falling short as your mouth open and closed in silence. He scoffed as he looked at you, turning his head away as his eyes teared up slightly but he shook his head in anger before taking a few steps in your direction with a raised accusatory finger.

“You’re just going to leave after all this?” He was spitting out at you and the tone of his voice, the disgust lacing his words, made your heart drop into your stomach with a crushing weight.

“I have to.” You replied back with desperation, your face curling up in anguish and you tried to get him to understand even slightly what your reasoning was. “Sunghoon almost died Heeseung, and Riki he… these things will keep happening.”

“He didn’t die.” He was almost yelling now and you flinched back at the volume of his voice, having half a mind to shush him softly and watching the way his face curled up in anger at the sound slipping through your lips. “He didn’t die Y/N, and you were the one who made sure of that. You care about us, I know you do.”

You didn’t know how to reply to that, not wanting to correct him especially when he wasn’t wrong.

You did care about them and it was making your skin crawl every time you found yourself smiling affectionately at one of their offhanded jokes or paying extra attention to their wounds and bruises. Even more so with the boy in front of you with the gentle way he touched you to make sure you weren’t injured, when his face was lit up by campfires or his determination to lead a group of boys through a world he himself didn’t understand.

“I can’t watch it happen.” Your voice was breaking and your shoulders sagged in upset, exhaustion wracking through you both emotionally and physically. “And it always happens, Hee.”

“It won’t happen this time.” He was taking more steps towards you and his hands were shakily coming up to hold your face, staring down at you with his own sense of determination to try and help you see his side of things. “Why didn’t you say bye to me?”

He was asking but you knew he already knew your answer and you tried to pull out of his touch to avoid answering, stopping when his thumb was gently rubbing your cheek and shaking his head to try and stop you.

“Because you wouldn’t be able to leave.” He was answering for you, filling in the blank and giving you a soft sad smile that made you break into a sob, your first time allowing yourself to cry for as long as you could remember. “Right? Tell me I’m right.”

You didn’t say anything but you didn’t need to, feeling him pull you in tightly against his chest as you fully let yourself feel the wave of your emotions, restricting them for so long in the name of survival and fighting to make it through the day.

Heeseung was keeping you in his embrace even when your legs were giving out and you were sinking to the floor in his arms, your hands hitting the dirt and feeling it mold between your fingers. You hooked your head over his shoulder and shut your eyes tight when your gaze fell on the body of the man you’d killed so easily earlier.

You let him hold you like that until your sobs were slowing down and the blood was drying in the grass.

You stayed like that far longer than you’d realized, sitting still and frozen until your cries slowed down and his blood had fully dried in the grass.

[bangchanisinmymind]

hi love! idk if ur taking requests but i adore "new" and need more piss kink chan!! how you wrote it is exactly my kink and would loveee another part or fic like it <33

hi love & thank you for the request (its my first omgg) Umm OFC I mean it's a need in staymblr. I'll write another similar fic, tell me if it's what you wanted or I can write something else! masterlist

glass

pairing; bangchan x reader; smut

you were currently laid on your back with chris on your chest after you had sex. he came stressed after work and you happily willed to take some of his stress away. he was at the kitchen drinking water and bringing you a glass. "you okay bubs?" he asked handing you your glass. before he could settle back on the bed you asked him to refill your glass. "you sure you're okay?" he chuckled at your rush to drink the second glass returning to the bedroom "yeah it's probably because of the air-conditioning" you pointed at the machine that was keeping the room cool.

after you laid on the bed again you decided to watch a movie and cuddle until bedtime. soon after chris was hard again due to you shifting to get comfortable and your folds sticking after accidentally grinding on his bare thigh. you agreed to go for another round before growing desperate. you wrapped your hands on his neck playing with his curls as he was still sat with you having the upper hand, and his hands travelling along your hips, waist and ribs.

he broke the kiss and looked at you, with eyes full of lust and you smiled at him adoringly kissing him again and started sitting on his lower abdomen and caging his cock between of your thighs. the kiss became deeper and none of you could wait anymore so you just slipped yourself on him, both moaning at the sensation. you started moving slowly before you felt a usual knot on your stomach, but not the one everyone would expect.

you've been with chris for quite a long time now and you were nothing but comfortable to talk about your kinks or anything personal; he was your other half after all. you've found a lot kinks and needs you didn't know you had during your relationship and together you've done almost everything so the following actions weren't something new but something additional to your pleasure.

chris understood exactly what was about to happen for your pussy suddenly clenching on him making him whine and the little whimpers you let out. "babe i've said it a million times already, it's something yours and I love it okay? let it out princess" he whispered and you immediately did as he said, relaxing yourself and he started moving on you slowly. your piss was now covering both yours and his abdomen but it wasn't enough to wer the sheets remarkably. after a few seconds when you could think again you stared leaving small licks and marks of his chest,biceps and neck as a "thank you" even though you knew it was his pleasure as well.

the sound of your combined moans and the wet sounds echoed loudly, chris drew an invisible line from your shoulder to your clit which he stared stimulating pushing you closer to your climax. his moves were messier than the beginning showing he was about to come. it seems that it was much his pleasure when you relaxed on him and he didn't need anything more. "that's it princess be good for daddy just for one more minute" he said between messy and deep thrusts as you could only moaned in response. it didn't take long when you came on him still thrusting into you with a high pitched moan and his following shortly after.

"why did you tried to hold in love? never do that again okay?" he cooed before pulling out carefully. "lemme run a bath okay?" he kissed your forehead chuckling at your fucked-out state. "want some water?" he chuckled again before kissing your lips and leaving to prepare your bath.

© @/bangchanisinmymind on tumblr | do not translate or copy my work without permission {feedback is highly appreciated! comment/DM for requests!}

[theryu]

Mumbo waffle gone drabble but. it's not them breaking up/divorcing. I refuse to address the grumbo divorce allegations (I might be coping, Im not sure)

It was Grian’s birthday. All the Hermits greeted him today, sent him gifts that were a mix of gifts and pranks. He loved all kinds of gifts, they greeted him so uniquely. Like Scar had passed by and died halfway greeting him.

He thoroughly enjoyed all of their surprises, but there was one Hermit he was waiting for. They haven’t talked that much as Mumbo was busy enjoying building his base, Grian could understand. He would pop by and compliment his builds at least, Mumbo was always happy when he praises him. But surely not, Mumbo hasn’t forgotten about his birthday. He has forgotten to eat, sleep, and such, but he has never forgotten anything about Grian.

So, Grian grew worried. He had waited inside his base, doing nothing but stalling some time for Mumbo to come. He even reorganised his storage. It was about time he flew by Mumbo’s base.

He flew a few blocks, turning over a corner to see Mumbo’s own chest monster. Grian could see it be messier than usual. Grian landed near his sleeping bed outside, he wasn’t there. He walked to the elevator he made, making sure to press the button once.

Once he arrived at the top, he was graced with Mumbo’s builds. Lots of the Hermits build fantastically but seeing Mumbo’s builds improve every time, he falls for him and his builds. It was easy to see the passion he had for the builds, how much thought he put into it, and how much he cared for details. He loved every single thing about Mumbo.

He heard a thud nearby, it was in Big Ron’s shop. Grian steadily made his way towards it, gently opening the door to see nothing but the trails the snails left behind. Or so he thought, Mumbo’s elbow peeked out behind the counter, he heard groans of pain. Mumbo was in pain.

Grian hurried over, panicked bird trills filled the room. He looked over the counter to see Mumbo laid down on the floor, his right hand clutching his head. His facial expression showed just how he was in pure pain. Grian carefully landed next to him, holding his free hand with two of his. Mumbo seemed to calm down, mumbling his name ever so softly. Grian’s heart melted at it.

“Mumbo? Hey, I’m here?” He gently held Mumbo’s face as if he could break it. Mumbo took a deep breath, and slowly opened his eyes.

Of course, the redstoner’s first move when he just woke up was to sit up. Grian didn’t let him. He was in pain! He wouldn’t let Mumbo move until he needs to. His avian instincts took over, shoving him down a bit hard on the floor, he grimaced and apologised shortly after.

Mumbo sighed, squeezing Grian’s hands for assurance. “Gri… I’m fine now. It’s honestly a miracle of how the pain stopped when you came.”

Mumbo sat up with Grian’s help, his hand supporting his back. Grian looked at him with all his worry, and Mumbo noticed so quickly. “It’s fine, really. I just felt tired all of a sudden, and then my head hurt a lot. I feel much better now.”

Grian calmed down for both of their sakes, helping Mumbo stand up as well. He expected the redstoner to turn around and get back to the building, but he paused and turned to Grian instead with a smile. “Happy birthday, mate.” It was silly of Grian to think that Mumbo would forget.

[short-black-diamond]

The other woman. (part 2)

Previous: part one 

Next: part three, part four- Izuku’s end

Heya, I am doing part two, no idea how it’ll go, but uhm, yeah. 

Warnings: suggestive content-but nothing really happens, cheating, lots of angst for izuku, hate-love, you slowly fall out of love with Deku, Izuku feels guilty and shit, timelaps, suicide thoughts, you feel a little guilty, but not too much, LONG CHAPTER 

summary: As Izuku thinks about how he should tell you and admit how he cheated on you, you are finishing your last preps to completely break him. Now, all he can do is think about where you might’ve headed off to. 

Also: Did I write this all with a resting bitch face?

Yes.

Word count: 4k words

Have fun reading!

...

{...Last time : }

You gently pushed him away from you, his heart breaking at the sight of you avoiding body contact with him. you looked at him with a sad and dissapointed expression and looked away, going to sleep in the guest room. Now that the young man was alone, he thought about your behavior.

You and him didn’t really spend time together, the last time being him and you fucking last night. Before that, you were busy looking for evidences of a new case you could work on alone since you got your promotion.

...

...

He thought about you real hard then. You were always there for him. Always. You always stood up late at night to greet him. You oftentimes came to his office and brought him lunch, which then ended in a hot make-out session or even a quickie in his office.

You often talked about kids, how many you’ve wanted, how you speculated on what they’d look like, what they’d become afterwards. 

You weren’t a person of words, but of action. you kissed him at least a hundred times more than he did, you held him oh so delicately whenever you could. you were always gentle, soft, comforting for him. I mean, you could be rough when he wanted to, but you preferred a soft and calm relationship. 

He...

He didn’t deserve you. 

...

In the guest room, you took a look at your phone. This time, the unknown person wrote a message. 

‘Why are you still hanging onto that cheating bastard?‘

You smirked. You didn’t really know who that person was, and if you’d sent the wrong text, then they could do whatever they wanted with it. So, you played dumb.

‘I think you are mistaking him with somebody else. He would never do something like that! I know my husband better than anyone else!!‘

The person didn’t take long to send something back. A voicemail? Let’s check if it’s a man or a woman...

“Well sweetie...guess I’ll have to show you myself...meet me at musutafu train station. Next saturday. 4 o’clock. Dress up for me, pretty. A’ight?“, the stranger said, having a voice changer and you couldn’t tell the gender. 

Then, the messenger went offline.

You didn’t have time to ask who they were or why they wanted to stop your relationship with Izuku so bad. But, you were quickly pulled out of your thoughts when Izuku knocked on your door. You had to think of something to answer.

SHITSHITSHITSHIT-

“D-darling...?“ He was met with the sound of whimpers and crying. Izuku felt like killing himself. 

...

The next few weeks, you felt like shit, but it was because of your pregnancy. luckily, it was summer, then fall, and then winter, so you could put on more and more sweaters or large shirts to hide your growing stomach. 

You went to the doctors regularly to get some meds, and when they asked you if Deku knew-you shook your head no with a mischievous smile that they only interpreted as a surprise. 

...

Izuku didn’t feel any better. He looked like he hadn’t slept in months, his hair was messier than usual. He had a days-old beard, and if he wouldn’t have cheated on you, you’d latch onto him and fuck him until next week. 

The guilt of cheating on you was plaguing his mind so much that he even forgot to eat. He forgot to take care of himself. When he roamed around the city, he didn’t tell the villains to make a better person out of themselves with a smile on his face like he normally would. 

No. 

He used them as a punching bag and beat them up with a monotone expression. He felt like really committing suicide. 

The idea became more and more interesting as he noticed more and more things in his every day life that he didn’t think of before. Once he even drank a little bleach, but he vomitted out his entire dinner that he had with you. 

The dinner was a complete disaster.

In that dinner, he tried to try it again, tried to talk with you. He noticed that you were covering up more and more. you also looked a little more chubby to him. You didn’t really eat anything, only looked to the side with your arms crossed.

Also, he couldn’t touch you how he liked anymore.

You didn’t let Izuku touch you because he cheated (but he didn’t know that you knew) on you and also because if he would’ve touched your tummy, he would’ve guessed that you were pregnant right away. Who knows? He might even be relieved that you wanted to hide that surprise from him. 

But you didn’t let him come closer to you than arms length. And he was only allowed to hold your arms and hands or your head and face. Not more. 

Izuku thought of that distance as your dissapointment towards him. He knew that you didn’t want to make love with him. But he didn’t know for how long. and honestly? It was snapping every single heart string of his. 

Maybe he’d get a broken heart syndrome and die already. But his prayers went ignored as time went by. 

He felt numb.

Then he went numb. But you didn’t really care. It was his fault, after all. 

... 

The brown haired woman, Uraraka, has tried to contact him more than a few times everyday, but he blocked her. Izuku felt like a traitor-which he was-but he felt much more than that. 

You didn’t deserve such an ungrateful bastard like him. He felt like a whore. He took you for granted. He was fucking another woman behind your back. He was kissing another woman. In another bed. 

When you should be in Uraraka’s place. When you should be the one he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. When you should be the one he’d meet at the end of the day. Not her. 

Uraraka was the other woman. 

But she was a woman who didn’t care if her target was taken or not. She didn’t care that you and Izuku were theoretically inseperable. She tested that theory. 

She found out that the theory was wrong. Or only temporary.

She broke a perfect relationship with a devillish smirk. 

Uraraka is a bitch.

...

You met up with some music and model agencies. You gave the music agency some of your music for when you were younger. Songs about love. Breakup. First date. Arguments. Everything. Nothing. 

They accepted your music. You even gave out your most recent song, but you wanted to sing that one. It was about cheating. About you, Izuku, and the other woman. And you even mentioned your two months old baby in your tummy in it. You’d sing it after your son, daughter or baby would come to the world, not sooner. 

if some other person, no matter if man or woman, would sing it, and Izuku would hear the lyrics, then he’d know that it was your song. You loved mistery, but also being simple and obvious. He knew that. so, you’d sing that song and the whole world would know about your and Izuku’s relationship being over before it could actually really blossom. 

The head of the music agency was thrilled about your plan and loved it. She even organised a concert for you to sing on. Live. And Izuku would be your guest of honour.

In the model agency, you gave the people some of your old modeling photos. Now you’d be a model for pregnant ladies. They also accepted. But, you insisted on cutting of your face in every pic, but only digitally. When you’d give birth to your child, then could they publish your photos. and Izuku would see how much he’s fucked up.

...

The case was finished. It seemed like the burglar was actually a group of middle school kids that had fusing quirks which they used to form into a thief and steal important or expensive stuff. 

After that case, you got another one. You had to find a mysterious person who likes to stalk people. It could be your internet friend who sent you the videos of Izuku and the other woman. 

Today was saturday. Time to meet the stranger. You contacted one of your close friends for safety reasons and made your way to the station. Your stomach got heavy with each week passing by. Now, your stomach was a little bigger than a basketball, but you could cover it up perfectly with one of Izuku’s hoodies. 

Yes, you still used them. Only to let him think that you still wanted this...whatever it was the two of you had. Now, you passed half of the path you had to take when Izuku called you. 

“Hey sweetie, where are you going?“

“Huh?“

“I’m up here.“, he whispered and you looked up. You saw him standing on a low rooftop, gazing down at you with a smile only a real lover could have. Too bad he wasn’t your lover anymore.

But, you noticed his growing beard and hair, his eyes having big, dark circles under his eyes. He also looked like he could eat something. He should eat...

You smiled. “Aren’t you coming down? I don’t feel that safe right now.”, and just after you’ve finished that sentence, he jumped and landed on his feet next to you. He tried to be subtle, but you pretty much aknowledged the pained wince his left eye had when his feet met the ground.

You smiled again. “Thanks.”

You put your mobile away, and took his hand, swinging it around a little. That made Izuku uncomfortable, and you knew that. “N-no problem...where are you going anyways?”, he asked, giving you a curious look. 

No need to lie, right? “Well, there’s this person who began texting me, and I thought they’d be a nice friend, so I’d agreed to meet up with them.”

Izuku looked at you for a few seconds before squeezing your hand. “would you like me to come with you?” 

Don’t you have other bitches to look at?

“Don’t you have patrol?”, you asked instead, biting your tongue internally. He shrugged, looking at you with a sly smirk. “I can always come a little late.”

‘I can always come a little late.‘, my ass! He probably said that to that other bitch he’s fucking!

You looked at him with a resting bitch face before you looked straight ahead. Your phone began ringing as you went. You stopped in your tracks and took your phone out. 

The unknown number. You wrote ‘MY BESTO FRENDO!! <3’ in the contact list so that your poor excuse of a husband wouldn’t suspect a thing. “Oh, ‘my besto friendo?’ Isn’t that from Jujutsu Kai-” “Heyyy~! Where are you?”

Oh. O-okay..

Izuku visibly deflated when you interrupted him by picking up the phone and went ahead and pulled your hand away from him. He felt shitty. 

“huh? over there? Ah, I see you, you can stop waving now, hahaha...yeah, okay, I’ll come now! Bye!“, you said after you ended the call. You then looked at the man whom you’d swore to never leave. But you would. In less than a year. 

“You can go now, Izuku. I can take care of myself.“ “I can still accompany you-“ “There are your fans, I don’t want them to come closer than they already are. Bye Izu.“

And without smiling at him, giving him a kiss, touching his shoulder, or cheek, you turned around and went into a nice caffee. Izuku lookes after you with a look of longing. He missed you. 

With a sigh, he turned towards his eager fans who questioned him about everything that had happened between you two. With each question that involved you - which was every single one the six kids asked him about - he felt more and more like crying, screaming, or throwing himself into a nearby river. 

“I-I’m sorry kids, it was nice talking to you...!“, he croaked out before he took off and dissapeared. 

...

“Huh, so, you’re the one sending me those videos.“, you mustered the handsome but tired looking male in front of you. 

He had nice purple hair, eyebags of tiredness, and a sexy smile. 

“Shinsou Hitoshi.“ “Aren’t you an underground hero?“

He looked at you with surprise evident on his face. “How...?”

“You think I don’t know about people like you? I am a detective in that area. I know everybody here. And now tell me; Why did you send me these videos?“

He furrowed his brows. “Do I really need an explanation? You are living together with your CHEATING husband, isn’t that enough?” 

You smiled coquettishly at him. “No, why do you think that this is going to change anything?”, you scoffed, ”Do you think I want to leave him?”

He hesitantly nodded, which made you giggle sweetly. “Dear Underground hero, I am not planning on divorcing my husband. He may have had come slip ups there and there, but don’t we all do mistakes sometimes?”

“I...shouldn’t you be hurt by his actions? How can you still be so...carefree?“, he murmured, sizing you up. To him, you looked like a completely normal citizen, but he still questioned your relationship with Izuku.

“Say...are you happy in your relationship?“

If you were taken aback, you didn’t show it. You were a mistress when it came to faking your emotions around other people now. You sighed. 

“I wish I was...I am still a little mad at him for spending some nights with another woman, but he promised that he’d never do it again.”, and you had a sad expression on your face, but it was real in this fake relationship.

Shinsou nodded, giving you the illusion of the conversation dying down. But, you were wrong. Deku just had to break your heart more, didn’t he?

“I’m sorry for...putting my nose into your business, but Izuku’s been meeting up with the same woman over and over again until it suddenly stopped.”

You stopped breathing for a second. You don’t have to tell me that, you idiot-

“And I really want to know why-like, don’t get me wrong or something! I am questioning your...husband’s...moves right now.“

“Please, Shinsou. Leave it. Okay? I’ll try and talk to Izuku about it, all right?“, you only answered with a bittersweet smile.

He didn’t look like he’d believe you and you wouldn’t even believe it yourself, but here you were, lying to people who only want the best for you.

“I-just...ugh. Let me tell you, that I will be there for you when you need help, all right? Also, it’d be the best if you’d leave him already.“

You sighed for the last time before standing up, thanking him for the nice time, and walking home, with thinking about how you should approach your nearly final step.

...

“Phew. Onto the next step.“ 

Carefully, you put out some wine glasses with some bottles of beer and other drunk-making potions for your plan for tonight. Since it was sunday, and you had free for today, it was the perfect chance of taking it into action. 

You had prepared some nice dinner, candles and other romantic stuff and with your quirk, making plants, you let plenty of flowers bloom from the walls of your shared house.

“I’m home...“, you heard your “husband’s“ tired voice. He was later than usual and he looked like he’d need a bath-right now. Luckily, you let in a nice warm bath for him with plucked pectorals from some flowers an put them on the nice-with bath bombs and soothing bathing salts filled- bathwater. 

Now, as Izuku was stripping down to his underwear, you prepared the most important part: The divorce. You needed his signature, after all. 

You then put on his oversized hoodie-an all might themed one, of course- and went over to him, ignoring the stomach ache your growing child gave you. “Hey, Izu.”, you smiled softly at him, spoiling him with your tender, fake love.

He looked at you surprised. “O-oh, hey...”

You giggled. Okay, something’s wrong here. Why were you all happy and shit right now? With him? Even though it was nice to hear your happiness, Midoriya felt like something was completely wrong.

“C’mon, I made dinner, and the bath is also not waiting for you.“, you ushered him into the bathroom, which was lit up by the numerous candles and gave him a nice vibe. He stepped into the bathroom and groaned. His muscles relaxed after what felt like forever and he felt like taking a nap. That was what he was really missing. 

Meanwhile, your core still responded to his touch and you cursed your body for still aching after the cheater who was having a good time in the bathtub.

Your hand on his scalp brought him out of his dreamland and he sighed. Still, things were nagging him. “Hey...are we...are we good?”, he asked cautiously, testing the waters with you. 

Your smile faded. “I wish we were, Izuku...it’s actually my fault that I neglected you, you know? You’re so busy, with saving everybody...and helping people when they need help...”, you trailed off, talking about all the times you longed for his touch, his voice, his warmth, him. 

And with each word falling from your lips, he felt like drowning himself into the bathtub. “I just...I wished we could...you know...try again?”, you asked, a hopefull glimmer in your eyes. 

Who was he to deny you. 

Who was he to even think about answering that question. 

Who did he think he was for even looking you in the face after all the time he has spent countless times in other women’s places, blowing their backs over and over again?

“Yes. Let’s do it.“, he instead answered, a determined expression on his face and you smiled seductively at him. “Okay, Izu. But I am hungry, so we’ll eat first, okay?“

...

“Ya wan’ me dodo *hiccup* wha?“, he only asked, his mind far too gone, but he tried to seem like he’d know what you were talking about. 

You held the divorce papers in front of him, smiling devilishly down at him. “It’s so that I can get more money, sweetie...”, you whispered, grinning happily when he signed off without another care. 

“averythin’ for’ya, swee...anythin’“, he called, his red face making him drowsy and soon, he fell asleep. 

He didn’t even see you taking your clothes and leaving. He didn’t see you putting your wedding- and engaged ring into their respective boxes and placing them on the dinner table, where everything was left the way it was after you two ate and drank. You onlay drank water but he mistook it for whitewine and said cheers before drinking full-on. 

He thought about having to become confident before rearranging your gut again, but he never got to do that; with you talking about how you solved the case, your friends having kids, you solving another case and him having to get better at saving people again. 

He never got to touch further up your arm than intertwining your and his fingers and gazing into each other lovingly. He never saw you again after he signed the paper. But what was it again?

It was morning as he threw up all the bile from yesterday, even your delicious food, and the expensive liquors. He felt miserable, and when he called for you, you didn’t answer. 

As he kept calling your name, he noticed that something was wrong, again. All your belongings were gone. Your clothes, lewelry, but only the ones that you personally owned-not the ones he bought for you. Your shoes, also only from your own credit card, were gone, and so was your entire presence. 

Sure, there were still the parfumes and other belongings of yours that Izuku purchased for you, but you? You were nowhere to be seen. Izuku got scared that something might’ve happened to you. 

He searched for his phone and found it on the uncleaned dining table. There were two boxes, dangerously equal to the ones where he had his engage and wedding rings in, and to his horror, the rings were inside the boxes. 

Underneath was an envelope. He opened it and read a letter which you wrote for him. 

“Dear Izuku Midoriya. 

Dear Izu, Zuku, Mido, Midori, sweetheart, love, handsome, sweetie, darling. 

Dear Deku, 

As you might have noticed, I have vanished. Am I going to tell you where? Out of your life! Now, you can fuck as many women as you want. 

But-”

Izuku flinched as if he heard you say those words. Your words, and you found out he cheated on you. How long?

He looked down again, and continued. 

“But, you’ll surely try and stalk me or investigate where I have gotten off to. Well, spare it. You’ll never find me. 

I do have some questions though. 

Why did you cheat on me? 

Was I not enough? Not sexy enough for you? Not pretty enough for you? Not tidy enough for you? 

Too lazy? Too brat-ish? Too much attitude? Not enough confidence? Not enough attention? Not the best looking woman? Not the best cook? Not the best lover?

Tell me. why did you cheat. and why did you stop? Exactly after the night when you fucked me? 

Did a lightbulb go on over your head and you thought, ‘wait, I’ve adtually got a spouse, I don’t need a side chick!’?

Whatever your answer might be, it’s over. 

that...paper you signed yesterday. It was our devorce. and we are leaving. who do I mean by “we”?

Well, me and my son of five months.

I hope that he’ll never see you and become like you, Izuku Midoriya. I’ll raise him as a real man. 

Until never, 

Not your lover anymore.”

You were pregnant? A son? And you didn’t tell him, he also doesn’t know where you are. 

I mean, sure, he broke you, but you broke him back, you guys are even...right?

As tears ran down his eyes and his sobs echoed in the now empty and cold appartment, void of your nice and warm presence, the pro hero unlocked his phone, only to be bombarded with news and questions from all sides. 

Japan news! - Deku’s bride divorced with child, what happened to our sweetest...tip to read more

Kacchan - the fuck did you do?! Your girl left you while pregnant?! Did you cheat on her...tip to read more

Uraraka - Are you okay? should I come come over? We can talk about it if you want...tip to read more

+ Notifications - tip to read more

His phone trembled when he listened to Katsuki screaming his ear off, the news reporting about how you modeled for numerous model companies and released tons of relatable and heart wrenching songs, with an invitation to her freshly divorced ex- Izuku to be a gust at her upcoming concert. 

then, he listened to Uraraka’s voice. calming, soothing, comforting. 

Bullshit. 

He blackmailed Uraraka, blocked her, and then tossed his phone away, thinking about where you might be. 

...

It was cold at this hour, but Izuku didn’t want to fakk asleep after two o’clock. You heaved your luggage down the last stairs of the house you’ve lived in  for the past few years. 

Now, you were ready to leave it all behind. 

Shinsou, your chauffeur, packed all the suitcases into the car and let you sit in the passenger seat. Only then he noticed your noticable bulge. 

“You-you’re pregnant?!”, he yelled, eyeing you with owlish eyes. You winced from his loud voice and shushed him. 

“I fucked him a few months ago and now I’ve got the baby. Now drive me away from this shitty place. Please.“

After some while, you felt Shinsou trying to say something  and you sighed before urging him to tell you what’s been on his mind as he drove you into your new house-but...could you even call it a house? 

It was...so much more than that. (I’ll explain it later.)

“Well, i think that after you two had sex did he stop meeting that other woman. what was her name again? Uraa- Uraka-“

“Uraraka Ochaco. And you’re the person who’s fitting perfectly in my case. Please, Shinsou, for the love of god. Register yourself and tell your underground-hero friends to to the same or my job will only consist of tracking down my own collegues. You guys are taking that whole “underground-hero” thing way too seriously.“

“A-ah..shit, sorry.“

[to be continued...]

...

HOW DID Y’ALL FIND IT?!

was it angsty enough? Because I am still bad at it I think 

please comment on my posts so that I can improve my writing and make better stories in the future...PLEASE!

Taglist:  black-bhabie-2000

[lucky-clover-gazette]

Obligatory Volo romantic/🥰 hc?

well if you INSIST (assuming the romance is with the player character here. also keeping these pretty positive and healthy, even though obviously there are plenty of uhhhh messier hcs to be made for this character specifically. i think tumblr will auto-shorten this post but please let me know if it doesn't and i'll add a cut)

in general, any iteration of volo wishes to demonstrate his devotion and usefulness to his partner through action. while he imagines a lot of grand gestures, it usually ends up being pretty mundane in practice. like getting things off tall shelves and tidying up a living space (he's a total neat freak). the exception is volo in a canon divergence where he actually becomes a god, in which case every gesture would be a grand gesture, and it probably gets out of hand

it's extremely important to him that togepi/togetic/togekiss loves his partner. he is genuinely so concerned about this, and fears what would happen if she didn't, despite togepi/tic/kiss being the literal embodiment of joy and love. this insecurity almost certainly stems from the fact that he still can't believe that togepi/tic/kiss loves him

he has read a lot of books and he loves to hear himself talk. also, he's been method acting for like five straight years and makes a living selling people things. the man has a way with words, take that as you will

he's a strict vegetarian (also doesn't eat eggs) for ethical reasons and knows how to cook extremely well to fit his dietary needs. one might expect him to be an "i'll eat a chicken because a chicken would eat me" kind of guy, but because humans have higher intelligence and the capacity for morality, volo holds them to higher standards than animals. therefore, it wouldn't be wrong for a chicken to eat him, but it would be wrong for him to eat a chicken. anyway this is a romantic headcanon because he really really loves to share his cooking, especially if it's a traditional recipe he found while researching history

he has a naturally pleasant singing voice and near-perfect pitch. the volo i write grew up on the mainland and came to hisui as a young adult, so i like to think that he grew up playing the piano and is very skilled, although out of practice. he occasionally hums or sings in front of his partner and it's very nice to hear

he knows how to sew and offers to help the player character make some modern clothing garments they miss from the future. also makes some clothing for them based on his own ideas, because he thinks they would look nice dressed up to his tastes :)

doesn't half-ass anything, especially not in terms of relationships. if he says it's casual, it's because his partner asked to keep it casual and he wants to respect their boundaries and honor their wishes, which is within itself something he does with intention and care

he is simultaneously very aware of the fact that he's beautiful in situations where it benefits him, and completely blindsided by his partner's unprompted acknowledgements of his beauty

loves going on hours-long walks with his partner and sharing/listening to enthusiastic diatribes about niche interests. bonus if the interest is totally unfamiliar to the other person. basically, ancient sinnoh video essays

he likes having regularly-occuring shared activities to look forward to. like, weekly game nights with his partner or taking their pokemon to battle at the training grounds as a team when they know some highly-skilled opponents are going to be there

likewise, he just really likes battling as a team. like if he and his partner run into the bandits in the wild, it's a genuine pleasure, because it means he gets to wield train his pokemon alongside someone on his level (also he likes being the hero sometimes, especially if he's upstaging arceus's chosen hero)

volo loves pda for several reasons: he's touch-starved, he's possessive, and he's a performer at heart

some fourth wall breakage, as a treat: he'd absolutely read romantic fanfiction about himself and leave multi-paragraph comments making corrections and highlighting lines he particularly appreciated

[dot-cant-write]

A Different Chord - Sammy Lawrence x Reader (Part Five)

It’s getting busy at the studio, and you can’t find Sammy Lawrence.

A/N: In honor of BatDR not being dead, I have actually written stuff. (Sorry for the wait.)

————————————————————————

It had been nearly half a year since your lessons with Sammy began, and things were busier than ever in the studio. It had been at least a week since your last banjo lesson (though admittedly, they were turning into sessions where you told Sammy gossip from around the studio). One day on your break, you headed down to the Music Department to see Sammy.

Henry had practically kicked you out of the art department anyway, complaining that you’re too young to work straight through the day. He said he was gonna have to talk to to Joey about that. Breaks were practically nonexistent in the studio, after all, especially as of late. Joey Drew’s deadlines were becoming more and more imposing and strict. Now that you thought about it, everyone seemed more on edge lately. You rolled your shoulders back and moseyed towards the music director’s office.

When you got there, you were surprised to see that his office was empty. Maybe he was still with the band? You went down the hall to check. As you rounded the corner into the practice room, you frowned. The room was empty. The band must not be meeting today. Or maybe they were taking their own break. Either way, the practice room was empty.

“Don’t know where he went, kiddo. Kicked us all out awhile ago.” A drawling voice made you jump. Turning around, you found Norman Polk on the balcony, fidgeting with a projector.

“That Sammy Lawrence is a strange one, I’ll tell ya… Once he kicked the band out, he ran all the way up here. Heard him flip the projector on, then he ran all the back down here. He played some instruments or somethin’, and he hasn’t come out for a long time. Peculiar man, dunno what you see in him,” Norman continued. That was the most you’d ever heard him speak. Your face reddened a little at his words.

“He’s just teaching me how to play the banjo, Mr. Polk! Don’t get the wrong idea,” you defended.

Norman grinned like the cheshire cat. “I think you’d better tell him that. Never seen that crazy composer as happy as he is when he’s teachin’ you.”

You shook your head hopelessly, feeling the heat in your cheeks. “I’m going to go find Sammy, Mr. Polk.” With that, you exited the room and started searching around, ignoring what Norman had said.

You couldn’t find Sammy anywhere, oddly enough. You swore he never left the music department, and Norman mentioned he’d been in the band room, but there was no sign of the musician. Instead, you’d decided to settle down in his office and wait for him to return.

—————————

Sammy’s office had become a bit busier as of late. Joey Drew had pipes installed to carry ink for some weird sort of project, and the switch for the pumps was placed there. People often came in and out of the office, usually GENT workers or janitors like Wally. Sammy’s desk had also become a bit messier. It had been a lot busier in the studio and you hadn’t had as frequent lessons… Since when had it become so unorganized?

After turning Sammy’s radio on, you started to stack the sheet music scattered across his desk. There were a lot of ink stains on the music. Come to think of it, there were also a lot of ink bottles in his rubbish bin… Why was he going through so much ink?

You shrugged it off once you noticed a black notebook under the sheet music you’d sorted. Curiosity gnawed on your bones, and as you started to reach for the book—

“(Y/N), you’re in my office.” Sammy Lawrence appeared, leaning on the doorframe. He looked slightly amused.

“Um yup, sure am. It’s a disaster in here, you should hire a maid,” You joked lightly, hoping he hadn’t seen you reach for his notebook.

“How long have you been waiting here?” Sammy asked. Changing the subject.

“Only for a little while. Where have you been? Got time for a lesson?”

The composer only responded to the latter question. “Only a short one. Joey has me writing songs for three different Bendy cartoons, all due tonight.” His expression soured.

“Why not work on those then? I don’t mind.”

“You’re just a distraction, I won’t be able to write much while you’re here. Besides, I have… certain things I have to do. Alone,” he added hastily.

Odd. “Do you want me to leave? Am I too distracting?” You asked, waggling your eyebrows playfully. You tried to keep Norman’s words from creeping back into your head.

“Oh, can it. Quit being a child,” Sammy said, but you swear a smile crept up on his face.

“Make me,” you chided lightly. Sammy strode over to where you were sitting at his desk. He towered over you normally, but was even taller while you sat. Leaning down, the musician placed a hand on his desk. He stared straight into your eyes, smirking. He was so close-

The moment was over in an instant. Turning away, he chuckled. “That’s what I thought. Now please, let me work.”

You should probably tell him what Norman said…

You decided not to.

[blues824]

Evening! I saw the undertaker with the obey me brothers, and i was wondering can I get the side characters with a Ronald Knox like mc? Their a reaper to and their choice of weapon is a lawn mower, wearing a suit and glasses along with having an undercut hair with black on the bottom and blond on the top, like they get startled from randomly getting teleported into the devildom & attack the person closest to them with their weapon, also knowing Thirteen since they are both reapers?

May I also get this with female mc if you do it

Alright, so this was intended for female reader, but this turned out more gender-neutral since I refer to Mc as ‘you’. Luke is not included.

Diavolo

You aren’t like any reaper he’s ever come across. First, your weapon of choice is much different compared to the normal scythe. You don’t see a lot of grim reapers with a lawn mower to reap souls. Plus, isn’t it a bit messier than a typical scythe?

In addition, usually all reapers know who the Avatars of Sins are. You did not, so you attacked him with your lawn mower. Your technique was a bit messy, so he was easily able to dodge it, capturing your wrists in a way that made you drop your weapon. He pulled you to him, your faces in very close proximity, as he introduced himself.

He does appreciate your style. As someone who also dresses formally, he can understand the suits you wear. Plus, he thinks you look absolutely gorgeous in the suits. He will often go and get you measured so that he may order some for you. Cue the pulling each other by the tie into a kiss.

He has never understood the trend of getting an undercut, but he must admit that it looks great on you. Plus, it might be so that your hair doesn’t get in the way of your job as a reaper. You don’t want to reap the wrong soul, after all.

When Thirteen came along, you squealed and hugged each other. Lucifer was both shocked and not that you both knew each other. Sure, you both were reapers, but you were a part of a division within a company while Thirteen was not. He definitely doesn’t get jealous when you start spending more time with her instead of him.

Barbatos

You are very interesting to him. Usually, reapers tend to be more grim and often are against angels, demons, and humans. However, you seemed to gravitate more towards the demons. He has already seen you in your world, so he assumes that your preference might be because you have partnered with demons before.

He predicted your attack and was able to quickly take away your lawn mower so you wouldn’t be able to hurt someone. He was the one to gently take you aside and calm you down. He grabbed you a silk handkerchief to gently dab the sweat off of your forehead.

He usually wears his RAD uniform, and it can be considered more formal. But, hear me out, when he’s working he sheds his coat so that he’s left with his turquoise button up and his black tie. You both do that, and you are left in a white button up. You both think the other looks so freaking attractive. (His arms as he kneads the dough for the treats he’s baking-)

He must admit that your hair looks great on you. The dual tone works well, and he will even help you style it more professionally if that is what you desire. You love the feeling of his delicate but swift hands in your hair, so you let him style it a lot.

He is very happy that you are getting along with the other exchange students. He was glad to hear that another reaper, and a reaper you know quite well, was coming into RAD. He liked to hear the stories you had to tell of your adventures together as you both are baking in the kitchen.

Solomon

He is also very intrigued by you. You have such a macabre and sometimes dangerous job but you act like any normal human. You were a generally happy reaper and tended to be tardy. While the last part was a bit irritating, it was tolerable.

Let’s go back to the beginning. When you were first teleported to the Devildom, you were understandably scared. However, what no one was expecting was for you to attack Solomon with a lawn mower from the 19th century. 

He also appreciates your style, and might even take after you in some aspects. He might add a few more trench coats to his wardrobe. Of course, he keeps it as simplistic as you do, but he gets a tad flustered when you help him with his tie.

He has seen the undercut trend, he never understood it. That being said, he thought you looked absolutely wonderful. He wouldn’t get the haircut himself, but he thinks you look great. You know how when someone gets a buzz cut, you want to run your hand through their hair? He wants to do that but with the hair that was shaved on your head.

He is very glad that you are getting along with other exchange students and actually doesn’t get jealous. If you are too busy having a good time with Thirteen, he will just go hang out with the other residents of Purgatory Hall. Of course he misses you, but he fears that you might go insane without some time to hang out with your friend.

Simeon

He has met a few reapers in his time, and he has to admit that the history between Grim Reapers and Angels is a very grim one. That being said, pardon him if he seems to want to keep the relationship between the two of you professional at first.

When you were first teleported to the Council Room, your first instinct was to attack him with your lawn mower. However, that didn’t really work out for you considering Simeon has had training in defense (he’s an archangel, of course he does) and was able to disarm you.

You tended to dress a tad more modestly than he did, mainly because of the time you came from. After actually evaluating Simeon’s outfit, you were left flustered at how ‘indecent’ he dressed. He feels the same (flustered, I mean) whenever you take off your trench coat and roll up the sleeves of your button-up. 

(Does he have an undercut?) He thinks your hair looks great. It frames your face in the right way, and it has a flair of carelessness and effortlessness, which made it that much more attractive to him. Don’t run your hand through your hair, he thinks it looks so hot. It seems a bit silly to him in retrospect, but he does feel a tinge of jealousy whenever you choose to hang out with Thirteen instead of him. He will tease, saying something along the lines of ‘But I will miss you ever so much~’, but he actually means it. He will sit at his typewriter to distract himself and pass the time.

[film-bro-hotch]

Queen of Nothing (Hotch x Reader) – Chapter One

A/N: Hi everyone! This is my first time writing a Hotch fic, but I am super excited to see how this one goes! I’ll probably keep this up just for my own satisfaction, but I am a full-time college student, so updates will be slow. Also chapter names are probably going to be from songs/poems, so feel free to give them a listen or read. Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Warnings: murder (mostly alluded to, no details)

WC: 1.7k

Synopsis: Reader is an ex-BAU agent. There was only so much work profiling could do, and it was something you and your boss, Aaron Hotchner, seemed to clash over. So you decided to take justice into your own hands, hunting down those who had evaded justice. You have been traveling around the country for the last 5 years serving your own form of justice, that is until you end up back in northern Virginia. You run into your old boss and ex-boyfriend, Aaron. He invites you to dinner, and you can’t say no, but you also can’t stop the work you’ve been doing for the past 5 years. You were a profiler, you can evade the FBI, right? Anything for love.

“Rats and roaches live by competition under the laws of supply and demand; it is the privilege of human beings to live under the laws of justice and mercy.” ― Wendell Berry

You think he knew that day you left the BAU that you wouldn’t be back. You only had a few things from your desk, it was only supposed to be temporary. You remember the look on his face when you set that request for leave on his desk. The two of you had been arguing a lot more lately, about your relationship, about your differences in opinion at work. You told him it was getting harder watching some of these unsubs go because they didn’t have enough evidence for a court, but you knew they were guilty. Aaron had told you that sometimes that happened, that you would get used to it, that you hadn’t been working in the field long enough. So you requested leave, two weeks, and agreed to a psych eval upon your return. 

“I just need a little air between me and the BAU,” you had said in his office.

He swiftly signed the paper. “Enjoy your two weeks, Agent L/N.” His words were dry like normal, but you could see the hint of pain in his eyes, the little extra crease at the end of his brow and the way it tilted up just a little more than usual.

Part of you wished he called for you as you left his office. The other part didn’t let you feel a thing as you walked through the door, gave simple half goodbyes, the ones you give to a friend after hanging out but are sure to see them again. Hotch was right. You never came back to the BAU. 

No, now you were in the middle of nowhere town on the coast somewhere between Louisiana and Mississippi and a little too close to New Orleans. You usually brought your justice to larger cities if you could. With so many people coming in and out, no one was sure to notice you as you didn’t stay anywhere for long. You never killed in the same place twice. At least not for a long while. You had to stop in the little halfway town to get some rest before making the drive to your next destination - which you still had to figure out.

You had burned your clothes an hour before, scattered the ashes into the bay. The man you had brought to justice was a little messier than you would normally go for, but he was much more aggressive than the men you usually take care of. This one required a sawed-off shotgun. Untraceable, but blood managed to get on your clothes, and you would rather not risk it, so you burned a pair of jeans you really didn’t want to get rid of. 

In that motel bathroom, you scrubbed your fingernails with a small toothbrush, a part of paranoia making you do so even though you had worn gloves. You tried not to look up at the mirror, see just how tired you were. You didn’t like the way you looked after a crime. You hated to even consider it a crime. You were doing more than you had ever gotten done at the BAU. Justice the legal system couldn’t provide.

You scrubbed until the hot water ran out, splashing your face in hopes to wake yourself up a bit. You still had to decide where to go next. One more rub of the face, a deep breath, and you left the bathroom, only sparing yourself a partial glance. 

To ensure that your destinations were truly random, truly untraceable, you let dice decide. One triangular die with four points would determine the first number of the latitude while a ten-sided die would determine the second number for the latitude. Longitude would be determined by a twenty-sided die and another ten-sided die. The numbers would hopefully keep you in the parameters of the United States, though if you needed to, you would reroll.

The crumpled map you tore out of an atlas was scribbled with red, places you had already been and tried to stay away from, but you didn’t want to influence the roll too much. Somehow someone like Reid would find a connection if you didn’t keep it completely randomly generated. Pulling the dice out of your bag, you gave them a quick kiss and rolled the first set. 

3 and 9.

So 39N. The line that seemed to run right through the middle of the country. You could end up anywhere. “Let’s hope west coast. This humidity is a bitch,” you mutter. You gently pick up the other two, rolling them in your hand for just a moment before letting them fall onto the map in front of you.

7 and 7.

77 W. You trace your finger along the lines on the map and feel your chest constrict as they meet. Fairfax, Virginia. Too close to Quantico. Too close to D.C. Too close to all those people you left behind. In all 5 years of this, you hadn’t even landed in Virginia. And now you were to go into the belly of the beast. 

What are you even afraid of? So many of your coworkers could have moved on, gone to different departments, you thought. Maybe they don’t even live in Fairfax. Besides, you’ll be out of there in no time if you stay focused and don’t do anything stupid.

You grabbed the dice from the map, shoving them back into your backpack and haphazardly folding it. It seems you had a long drive ahead of you, and you were going to need to get some sleep so you didn’t psych yourself out on the drive. It’s what the dice said, so it will be fine, you kept repeating to yourself as you pleaded for sleep to take you.

--

            Most of the drive was coming up with ways that made you feel only slightly better about the move. You knew the area decently well considering you had lived there for some time, but not well enough to be considered a local if any authorities began to suspect you. Even if they did, you hadn’t lived in the area for five years. As far as anyone knew, you didn’t live there anymore. The more you thought about it, the more confident you felt. You couldn’t do your job worrying about little things.

            Once you reached Fairfax County, you found the cheapest motel you could, the one that probably looked the most rundown and maybe wasn’t the safest, but that’s why you were there. In your experience, the people who ran these didn’t ask questions. 

            There was a woman behind the counter, blonde curly hair that was more frizz than curl. She had a stocky build and wore an old shirt from some county fair. In one hand she had a lit cigarette, the other held some cheap tabloid. She didn’t look up when you entered, though she undoubtedly heard the bell at the door.

            “Any vacancies?”

            She didn’t look up at you, but she did put the tabloid and look at what seemed to be an old appointment book. “How long?” she asked in a voice that made it clear she had been smoking for years. 

            “Two weeks,” you settle with, pulling cash out of your bag to pay. She seemed to raise a brow for just a moment, but took it without another word, handing you the keys to one of the rooms. 

            “Room 8, outside and to your left. Checkout is at 11:00,” she says, scribbling your stay down in the book, not asking for a name before going back to her tabloid. 

            Like you figured, the room was run down and shitty, but it would help you keep a low profile. It smelled like cigarette smoke the moment you walked in, but the sheets seemed relatively clean, so you would take what you could get. There was no television, but you had grown accustomed to living without one. Doing your routine checks of the place, you gave yourself just a moment to relax. 

            It was then that you realized not only just how late it was, but how hungry you were. You didn’t make many stops on the way for food, only when you needed more gas. Most places you stayed didn’t have a minifridge or anything, but you usually kept a cooler in the car so you could have some meat and cheese for sandwiches. Not the best, but you got by well enough. That seemed to be the theme for your life the past five years. So like every usual move, you were tired after the drive but reluctantly got up and drove to the nearest grocery store to grab just the necessities. 

            By that time in the night, it was a little after 10:00, and there was hardly anyone else in the place besides the few workers that seemed to mill about. The fluorescent lights made your eyes ache a little, but that could also be due to straining them driving all day. You were trying to be quick, just wanting some food so you could go to bed. You had to be well rested to start your research for the next case.

You had grabbed what looked to be the cheapest bread and was around the corner when your cart hit something else metal, a loud metallic sound rang in your ears a bit. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath. You must have been a lot more tired than you originally thought if you clipped the shelf.

            “Y/N?”

            Oh. You didn’t hit the shelf taking a turn a little too sharp. You hit another cart, and you would have apologized if you hadn’t known that voice. That fucking voice that still hunted you every now and again and you prayed would go away. You hoped that this instance was one of those hauntings, that you hadn’t spent the past 16 hours in a car driving back to the place you fled. You would wake up in that little town outside of New Orleans and your dice would roll something else. But you weren’t that lucky.

            You could never be that lucky because the person standing in front of you was the last person from the BAU you ever saw. Right in front of you was Aaron Hotchner.

Chapter Two

[watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees]

Forever cold

masterlist

previous

part 3/3 of the prequel

im on the verge of tears actually, I'm kinda sick so I didn't proofread but damn I think this chapter turned out nicely (and by nicely I mean its heartbreaking in a wonderful way)

CW: mild gore in the end, lot's of angst, vampire and human relationship, lot's of angst, emotional whump mostly, turned into a vampire (fade to black)

Julius opened the door for him before he could knock. He stared at the man, the vampire, startled for a moment. RJ knew somehow, and he knew Julius had heard him walk up. He swallowed thickly, scared of his next move. He opened the door, and raised an eyebrow and RJ couldn’t help but stare at him. 

All of the missing pieces of the puzzle fell into place, when they locked eyes. He took the sight in as if it was the first time he saw the vampire. He stood still as a statue, with a curious expression carved on his face. His skin was light, slightly olive toned one would find on a renaissance painting. His hair was messier than usual and even still every strand on his head looked carefully curated to compliment his features.

RJ felt like Julius knew why he was there. He had felt the strange and soft tingle on the back of his neck ever since he entered the building. It was a sensation he noticed often when they met. 

“Can I come in?” he chose to ask, in place of the myriad of questions swirling around in his head. Julius just stepped aside and opened the door wide, RJ couldn’t exactly read his expression further than the intrigue plastered on his ethereal face, but he knew there was something else as well. Something much darker than he liked to admit.

His heart rate picked up when the vampire closed the door behind them and he heard the lock turn in place.

“What can I do for you, Sunshine?” Julius asked with a deceptively soft smile that made shivers run down RJ’s spine. The nickname, they had come up with a couple of weeks back, took on an entirely different meaning. If it was possible, his heart beat even faster, it took serious effort to keep his breathing steady. He saw as the vampire’s eyes flicked down towards his chest for a brief moment; Julius noticed too.

“I- I know what you are, Julius” he started, his voice came out steadier than he anticipated following the little hitch in the beginning. Julius studied him a little, his smile growing wider, but it was still faint, it was like watching the Mona Lisa’s expression change.

“And?” he asked, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

“You’re a vampire” RJ stated and swallowed hard, it unnerved him just how unbothered Julius stood there.

“I know” He smiled, really smiled this time, flashing his teeth that for a moment looked sharper than ever, though it could have been the strangely strong light of the ceiling lamp playing tricks.

RJ felt nauseous. The way they had been flirting before, like a game between cat and mouse that could only end one way, became something much more sinister, the way Julius smiled just the same way he did before, RJ’s understanding shifted. Was he just a little mouse to the vampire that he let run free for a while before he caught it? If Julius saw it like that, he had been royally fucked since the moment they first met.

It crushed him. He wanted to run and never look back, forget all of it. The vampire took a step closer, searching his gaze. He went over this exact scenario a hundred times before he arrived, and still it was so different in reality. Seeing Julius for what he was, as if a curtain had fallen that had shielded his eyes before, was terrifying and oddly enough he was aware that he didn’t change. RJ did.

“Do you want to kill me?” he asked softly. He was stuck between wanting to accuse Julius for playing with him for so long and desperate for him to deny that.

“More than anything” the vampire confirmed, and he seemed to relax, as if the confession lifted something heavy that had been weighing him down. RJ noticed yet another thing about the vampire that had been hidden before; just how much restraint he showed, the statuesque stance, his carefully formed expressions, the way he kept his voice light and even was proof of it.

It was a confession of love, a thought that equally terrified and excited him. 

“And will you?” 

“No” The answer, as simple as it was, he didn’t understand. He had thought about what he would do if and when the vampire said yes, but he hadn’t prepared for a no.

“Did you just come here to ask me that?” Julius closed the distance between them and placed a hand on the side of his face. RJ leaned into the soft touch and closed his eyes. His heart fluttered like a rabbit’s, and every instinct in him screamed at him to run, louder than ever before. A gate had opened somewhere in his brain that had been closed previously, ignored and forgotten, and the dreadful sensation that came with his body being aware of the predator, flooded his mind.

“No” he breathed out. Julius stayed quiet, he didn’t even breathe, just stood still and waited for him to continue. His hand was noticeably colder than his own skin.

“Then why did you come here, Sunshine?” he asked finally, when he figured RJ wouldn’t explain.

“Do you not know already?” he opened his eyes confused, and the vampire pulled his hand back.

“I do not” he confirmed “I don’t listen to your thoughts. Not consciously at least”

“Why not?” 

The soft tingling feeling at the nape of his neck started growing, running all over his scalp and flooding his senses electrically. He wasn’t alone in his head anymore, he felt dizzy and the room started to spin around him.

The sensation dissipated as quickly as it had started.

“Oh” he managed, trying to pull his thoughts back together from their scattered state.

“It wouldn’t feel like that all the time if I did, but it’s quite easy to notice when you aren’t used to it” The vampire placed a hand on his arm and led him to sit down on the couch. He kept some distance between them.

“So if you don’t plan to kill me and you don’t do that thing with my head, what now? Can I just leave?” RJ asked incredulously. 

“Do you want to leave?” Julius countered. He genuinely didn’t. Even if he did, he wasn’t sure he could, he still felt horribly disoriented. He shook his head, both as a reply and an attempt to shake the remaining dizziness.

“Will you feed from me?”

“Are you asking or offering?” the vampire teased with a half smile. Of course RJ was asking. He was, right?

“What would happen if you did?” he blurted without thinking. He hoped Julius doesn’t take it as another invitation to demonstrate.

“To you? Nothing. You might feel a little lightheaded” he took RJ’s hand in his. The way he drew small circles on the back of his hand gave him goosebumps. 

“Would I- does it not- would it turn me?” He felt sort of stupid for asking that. 

“No” Julius chuckled softly, dissolving his embarrassment “It’s not that easy”

“Will you turn me?”

“I told you I don’t plan to kill you” he turned serious again, used the same restrained tone that not even the nickname could soften “Would you die to become cursed, Sunshine?” 

“Would it be a curse if I could stay with you?” Julius tilted his head to the side, contemplating his answer. They stayed silent again for a while. The vampire seemed to think for minutes, and RJ worried the answer would be yes, that he was just trying to find the right way to tell him. The thought consumed him entirely. He imagined himself walking home, Julius would leave never to be seen again. He felt this magical new world, he barely set a foot in, crumble around him.

“It wouldn’t” The vampire replied finally, it brought tears to RJ’s eyes. “But, Sunshine, you would have to die for it” He seemed worried. 

“You wanted to kill me anyways” RJ shrugged with a breathy laugh. There were tears still running down his face in a steady stream. “Here’s your chance, Julius” he placed his free hand over the vampire’s.

It was Julius’ turn to be taken aback and swallow hard. Of course he wanted to. The picture of RJ, lying on the hardwood floor of the living room, pale and drained dry with his neck ripped open hadn’t left the front of his mind ever since he stepped over the threshold.

His ray of sunshine, he would be the one to snuff that light out of him. It was the greatest and the worst thing he imagined to do over and over again. 

He would sink his fangs into the human’s soft and warm skin. He wouldn’t have to go deep just to find his carotid artery, but he would rip into the muscle underneath because he could. He wanted to hear the cartilage snap in half as he locked his jaw in.

And he would be crushed by the betrayal RJ would feel, he would struggle to get away from him, weaker by the minute and to no avail. He was only human, prey and he would truly realise it then.

He would choke on his own blood, it would probably flow up into his mouth and he’d taste the metallic liquid on his own tongue. And Julius wouldn’t stop until the human ceases to struggle. He’d feed him his own blood, and wait.

“You’ll resent me, when you wake up” He didn’t know when tears started streaming down his own face. All their time spent together, all the happy memories of them would be tainted, because he would go for the kill. Still, there wasn’t anything he wanted to do more.

“I won’t” RJ replied softly and reached a hand to wipe the tears away from his face. Julius leaned into the touch. This would be the last time RJ was so warm around him. He savoured the way his fingertips caressed his face. The way his heart still beat, it picked up as he leaned closer.

He didn’t go for the neck. Not yet. He pressed his lips to RJ’s, whose breath hitched at the sudden contact. The vampire wanted him to promise he wouldn’t wake up resenting him, and he knew he couldn’t. It was an unreasonable thing to ask, and he was painfully aware of it.

He broke the kiss, and pulled RJ closer by the shoulder.

He ran his left hand up his neck, into his hair. He pulled on it, gently coaxing him to tilt his head to the side, and leaned in deeper.

He placed another kiss on the human’s skin, and only then did he bite down.

[pervertedreams]

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐮𝐭

includes: argyle, eddie, jonathan and steve

cw: afab!reader, f receiving, slapping, overstimulation

: ̗̀➛ clit slapper ! clit slapper ! CLIT SLAPPER ! that’s eddie’s label. there isn’t a chance that he doesn’t slap your cunt every. single. time he’s about to eat it. he can’t help himself, the little yelp you give, the way your knees knock together when your legs instantly shut. you expect it every time and it still manages to shock you every time. anyways he’s sloppy, as sloppy as can be. the way he’s messily lapping at your slick folds, doing nothing but making you messier between your thighs. the sounds coming from his tongue connected to you clit is filthy, it’s lewd and all it does is egg you on more.

: ̗̀➛ argyle is so in his own little world, he’s so into it when he’s eating you out that he doesn’t even notice he’s overstimulated you. he’s so content with slurping and lapping up at your cunt, and the taste of your arousal that it literally takes you pushing him off for him to notice how disheveled you are. and even then he’s still pleading, eyelids heavy with lust and the weed he smoked an hour ago. his lips are pink, wet and swollen. his brain is fuzzy, body literally buzzing to get his mouth back on your now sore clit. “i wasn’t finished yet.” his accent is heavier than usual, and the gleam in his eyes are glossier. you sigh, letting go of the makeshift ponytail you gave his hair. he whines and frowns when the tug you had on his head loosens, but it’s quickly replaced with a dopey smile when he goes back to sucking your sensitive nub.

: ̗̀➛ i think jonathan is super careful, he’s super calculated in what he’s doing cause he doesn’t wanna fuck up, doesn’t wanna turn you off. the whole time he’s asking for reassurance, making sure every little thing feels good. he doesn’t wanna make the slightest mistake. but he looooves tongue fucking, it doesn’t really do much compared to clit sucking but it looks hot and you know he enjoys its. he loves prodding his wet, pink muscle into your siping hole. he’s very noisy too, a lot of moaning into your pussy. but the vibrations from his grunting always get you off.

: ̗̀➛ steve is such a desperate lover in general, especially during sex. ESPECIALLY when eating you out lord have mercy. he loves praising but he loves being praised even more, loves your weak feedback, loves to know he’s doing a good job. he’s pathetically rutting his hips into the bed beneath him, whining into your clit. it’s like it’s not enough. he has short moments where ge gets almost animalistic?? like he’s frustrated with himself cause he’s feels like it’s not enough. even if you’re literally dripping, came multiple times, tears pricking your eyes in pleasure, literally prying him off you. it’s not enough for him. he’s drinking you all in, every twitch, every whine. and even then he’s still going until he’s completely fulfilled.