#kinda feels like fate was trying to throw me a bone the past few days

[kon-konk]

Good news for me: Magni and Vesper both have very distinctive voices.

This means that if Vesper ever returns to streaming (Vtuber or not), he'll be easy to find.

And I finally realized why the channel that kept popping up in my shorts the past few days had a guy that sounded very familiar in them...

[infitsovermisfits]

Before The Battle - Eddie Munson X GN!Reader

AN: Throwing this one out like a bone to rabid wolves. I wrote this long before vol2 came out and all we had was that 1 trailer where eddie played the guitar for a split second in the upside down- decided not to post it to not jinx anything, then after that ending... Call me dramatic, i was too upset to revisit this. Here's some angsty stuff! enjoy while i work on part 6 ;P

word count: 1462

WARNINGS: angst, ending open for interpretations, spoilers for vol2, inspired by 2 clips so if it's not accurate to the show I'm sorry, death mentioned and discussed

"Hey," You say, arms folded as you stared at Eddie in his old bedroom, hand outstretched to grab his guitar. Your sudden voice makes him jump, like a startled cat. When he realises it's only you, his wide eyes relax, though his shoulders are still tense beneath his new battle vest,

"Hi," He breathes, "Can you... Not do that?" He asks, chuckling nervously as he glances down. You narrow your eyes and glanced over your shoulder at the group in the living room of the trailer. The setting sun casts bright oranges to the familiar place, though you don't feel the usual happiness. Seeing everyone ready for battle and the hanging sheets as a gateway between this world and the one beneath-yet-somehow-above-it sends a chill through your bones. Steve, ever the mother, is checking in on the kids gathered there, and you can't look long. They're so young and they're been dealing with this for how long? Three years? You're quick to reach for the door handle "What are-" He starts once you close the door,

"Can we talk?" You cut him off sharply, taking a step forward. You needed to get this out before anything goes wrong.

These past few days had been... Insane. When you returned home after what you thought was a fairly successful campaign, following the addition of the fair Lady Applejack, you didn't think the evening would end with you being violently awoken by a rattled Eddie, shaking and panicking and unable to breathe because 'Chrissy Cunningham's bones snapped and she died' in his trailer. You let him stay the rest of the night, his head in your lap as you caressed his hair to try and calm him down. Before the sun could rise higher in the sky, you'd packed a bag and ran away together, hiding out in the woods. You couldn't just leave him alone on this- something about seeing Eddie, the usually confident and terrifying, to those who didn't know him, metalhead, so scared and distant... It made you worry for him,

"Talk..." He says slowly. The guitar's likely left his mind by now. He won't look you in the eyes either, he's busy picking at a loose muddy-green thread, "Uh, sure, but you're gonna have to make it snappy," He says, turning his head to the side and eyeing the window, "We've kinda got the world to save," He glances back at you briefly, avoiding your face. He looks behind you at the door, the slight smile that came with the statement fading quickly as the severity of... This hits him,

"Alright," Your eyes bore into his face. He's looking down again, more focused on his hands than you but still listening. There's a slight tremor to them- it hadn't left since he had clambered through your window days ago, "S-"

"You know I can't stay," He interrupts quickly. You only blink, 

"What?" Your brows furrow as you stare at him,

"I-" He inhales deeply, glancing at his floor nervously and balling his fists so his knuckles go white, "I'm done... Running. From everything in my life" He says. His tone is mixed with passion and fear- it's clear he wants to help but he's terrified. It's as if he's trying to convince himself more than you, "Nothing you'll say will... Will make me want to stay behind... I'm in too deep, right?" He laughed to himself quietly, "I'm a murderer," He sounds dejected, accepting this fate, "And... If this will somehow... Redeem me in the eyes of Hawkins then... Then I should try," He said, looking at you, "But no more running," He finishes, shaking his head. There's a serious expression on his face; something tells you he won't budge on this. The Munson's stubbornness- a curse they all bear. Though you don't want to see him leave, in fear something will happen to you, you can't help but smile as you walk closer to him,

"Okay?" You say softly. Maybe he was expecting you to cry and scream and cling to his shirt for him not to go. He's surprised; to be honest you're surprised? Why aren't you screaming and crying? You saw what those bats did to Steve's neck, "I wasn't going to ask you to run away with me but... It's good to see you're standing up for yourself, Eds," your voice is soft. You're keeping quiet in case the others can hear you. You stop near him and move to sit on his bed, eyes fixed on him,

"Then...?" He's confused, his wide-eyed expression quickly morphing to confusion as he looks at you, "The wh-"

"I came to..." You interrupt him, "Not to say goodbye... Because you are coming back from... The upside down?" You try, uncertain with the new terminology. With a sigh, you continue, "I came to wish you good luck," You tell him as he sits beside you, "Give those bats hell for me, babe," You tell him playfully, earning a slight, breathy laugh,

"Thanks..." He says quietly. His eyes finally meet yours, gaze warm and full of reassurance. You watch him for a moment longer before glancing down at your hands,

"Here," You tell him, shifting so you're facing him on the bed and reaching to twist a ring off of your finger, "I uh... You gave me this ring a few years ago as a promise," You say softly, holding it up to show him, "A promice that you love me... A promise that one day, we'll get out of this shitty town and we'll live a better life together," You smile fondly at the metal band in your fingers, turning it over. It's slightly thicker than the other rings adorning your fingers, with a clumsily carved heart in the inner band, along with E and your initial. Hidden from the world, only for you to see if you take it off and for you to know of its place when you'd slip it on. He had made it himself for your first anniversary in shop class. You had found it so sweet of him that you still kept it and wore it all these years later, "So I am gonna give it back to you-" You tell him, reaching to take his hand in yours and speaking quickly as he opens his mouth, brow furrowing in protest, "-As a promise to me... That you'll come back to me," The final word coming out shaky as tears fill your eyes. The spill over your cheeks quickly, running down as you place the ring back in his hand, though his arms are quick to wrap around you tightly, holding you as you cry into his shoulder, "Because you will come back," You say. You don't even question it. You don't want to question it, look into any other possibility than the one where Eddie will come back alive and as a hero, 

"Yeah," His own response is shaky and breathy. From how he slightly shakes in the tight embrace, he's likely crying too, "I'll come back to you," You hear it. The words you were looking for. As he pulls away, his empty hand finds itself on your cheek, gently whipping it dry and catching another tear that slips down onto your damp, stinging asking. You faintly hear the door open behind you, 

"Eddie, we have to go, like... Now," Steve's voice says from behind you. You're quick to fix yourself- he lets his hand fall from your face as you quickly wipe it dry. Eddie stands to grab his guitar and slings it over his shoulder, 

"Wait," You mumble, taking hold of his hands and checking the rings. You smile slightly- the band is on his ring finger. He manoeuvres his hand to squeeze yours, "Please, Eddie," You whisper as you squeeze back, holding his gaze, 

"I'll try my best," He says, leaning forward to kiss you. It's gentle, so soft you don't want him to leave. The shuffling from the direction of the door, followed by the sound of receding footsteps and a few 'eughs' from the spying kids brings you back. You'd laugh at their reactions but the weight of imminent danger dampers your humour. Eddie's pulling away all too quickly and resting his forehead against yours, "I'll come back to you," He whispers it, only you can hear it. And though it does nothing to help the pit of dread carving its way through your stomach, you feel slight relief in your shoulders. They were tensed before. As he pulls back to look at you, he gives you a last, reassuring smile, before turning his back to walk through the bedroom door,

"Give 'em hell, Eds," You repeat, voice a whisper as you follow a distance behind him, joining the group and eyeing the crack to the other dimension in the ceiling.

[sevenmikento]

A/N: hello!! this request sounds super lit but i am Scared of not writing their dialogue witty enough so imma just try my best! :D i hope you have a nice day as well hehe

genres: fluff, BIG angst, sort of happy ending?, tw death, tw blood and gore; 2k words

divine omniscience [Sukuna X Reader]

“Do you guys think it’s true? What Gojou-sensei said?” Nobara asks out of the blue as she casually munches on a fry that certainly was not from her tray.

“You gotta be more specific, dude,” Yuuji replies, speaking with his mouth half-full of burger. She scrunches her nose at him as she reaches for another one of Megumi’s french fries.

“Y’know when he said all that stuff about Sukuna having only one known trusted companion or whatever. I mean, everything in the texts seems pretty vague, no?”

“Yeah, ‘companion’ is not the kind of word I’d associate with someone like him.” Megumi chips in, pushing his tray closer to the girl sitting opposite him.

“Kinda wanted to ask if they meant it sexually but I swear he’ll just start giggling and wasting our time.”

The three friends continue to chatter on about their theories and interpretations of their earlier class’s contents, all the while completely unaware of the fourth party listening in–the one who is actually most knowledgeable on the topic they’re so oddly curious about.

Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that you are the one who knows the most, that is if you’re still alive. Though Sukuna doubts you died within the time he was away. You’re too smart for that.

The village chanted, faces obscured behind masks carved from wood and dyed red from the colour of the witch’s blood. Watching from within the shadows, Sukuna felt compelled to observe the ritual, having never felt such a strong surge in cursed energy in his entire existence.

He was proven to have wrongly assumed it was coming from the outraged villagers when they finally set your crucified body alight and a blanket of black cursed energy covered the area, engulfing every single one of the citizens beneath it. Bone-chilling screams and begs for mercy filled his ears, the sound muffled but satisfying to listen to nonetheless.

When the strange turn of events finally came to an end and the energy receded into your bloodied and broken body, the King of Curses himself decided that he’d finally found someone worth his time.

At the end of your torturous life as a human and the start of your existence as a newly born cursed spirit, you were honestly a little too much for Sukuna to handle. Despite having never heard of cursed energy or jujutsu sorcery, you were quick to pick up everything you needed to know and then some.

Not only were you dangerously intelligent, but you were also completely unphased by him and his raw power, no matter how much he made sure to display it–whether it be in the form of exterminating a town of people or setting a forest ablaze with just a snap of his fingers.

“Scared yet?” he would ask, a smug grin on his face. You would smile back without a hint of sarcasm or dishonesty.

“No,” you’d reply without a second thought, “because I know you will never hurt me.”

What Sukuna initially assumed was well-hidden arrogance turned out to be a mere fact you were stating. A piece of truth you’d gained due to the nature of your ever-growing curse technique. Outwardly, the King could deny it all he wanted to, he could threaten you day and night, grab your throat and tighten his grip just to prove you wrong but he would never–has never–done any harm unto you.

When he had come to accept that as the truth, he tried deluding himself into believing he kept you around merely for your wealth of knowledge and powerful supply of cursed energy. Those were, in fact, his reasons at the start of it all–they were why he even walked into the village that fateful day and used his reverse cursed technique on you.

“You can say that all you want,” you once said, reaching up to wipe the blood off his face with your sleeve while the same red substance stained your own skin, “but we both know the main reason you keep me by your side.”

He did not respond.

Instead, he scoffed and grabbed your chin with one hand before raising the other and mimicking your gesture. With an uncharacteristic tenderness, Sukuna wiped the blood off your face with his thumb as the cries of the dying soldiers around you slowly faded to nothing.

“Their name was (Y/N).” His voice echoes shortly within the confines of Yuuji’s dark bedroom.

“What?” the sorcerer blearily murmured, having been on the verge of falling asleep when the King of Curses himself decided to speak.

“My companion… though, they would have preferred the word ‘partner’... was named (Y/N).”

“Why’re you telling me this?” Yuuji groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“The inaccuracies your teachers spread to your friends are painful to listen to,” Sukuna scoffs. “Frankly, it’s insulting and disrespectful.” The cursed spirit’s choice of vocabulary throws his vessel off guard.

“... You must’ve liked them a lot, huh?” Yuuji responds, voice softer than before as he feels his initial frustration of being denied his sleep fading away. “It’s weird to imagine someone like you feeling indignant on someone else’s behalf.”

“Well,” Sukuna smirks to himself, “let’s just say they’re the only one I have any respect for in this godforsaken world.”

“He plans on betraying you,” you stated matter-of-factly, opening your eyes for the first time throughout the entire meeting.

Sukuna had called forth a few powerful cursed spirits under the pretence of forming an alliance, with his true intentions being to simply size them up and subtly intimidate them into leaving his newfound territory alone–if they valued their lives, that is. He didn’t need to tell you of his plans and he knew he didn’t have to for you to understand it completely.

The cursed spirit you’d singled out widened his eyes before his expression turned hostile. “Don’t spout bullshit! I’ve done nothing but agree with everything Sukuna-sama has said!”

Sukuna watched the events unfold silently, unable to help but feel something in his chest swell with warmth as he observed you.

“I know everything.” Your simple reply was enough to enrage the spirit who shot out of his chair and seemingly began to lunge in your direction.

“You fucking wh–!” he cried.

Where his head used to sit was a neck sliced cleanly through the middle as everyone in the room felt a gust of wind brush past their terrified faces. The only outliers were you and the perpetrator of the murder himself, both smiling as one would out on a walk on a pleasant afternoon. His skull bounces twice on the tatami flooring before it disappears alongside his body.

“That was a bit much, don’t you think, Sukuna?” The other cursed spirits practically break out in a cold sweat upon hearing you so daringly speak to the King of Curses after such a display of his power.

“That was merciful, my dear,” he responded casually, reaching out a clean hand to wipe away the droplets of blood that had reached your face. Still touching you, he turned to the others. “Does anyone else have anything to say?”

“No, they’re terrified,” you laugh when they fail to respond, all still shaking where they sat.

“Good–”

“Of me.”

He scrunches his nose and softly pushes your face away but a smile still creeps onto his face as he thinks to himself, ‘as they should be.’

Nobara and Megumi would find it hard to believe had the information not come directly from Yuuji’s mouth, as well as the additional mouth that had unceremoniously popped up on his cheek mid-conversation.

“You’re saying everything wrong!” Sukuna had exclaimed after making his appearance and refusing to leave until Yuuji had gotten all the facts right.

When he was finally satisfied, he still didn’t leave right away, sensing the two sorcerers wanted to know more. “Well?” He prompts. “Just ask your fucking questions already, we don’t have all day.”

“If you put it like that… then I’ll just ask it as it is and you’re not allowed to get all pissy, ‘kay?” Nobara responds. Megumi and Yuuji share a nervous glance.

“How’re you so sure they’re not dead?”

He wished he hadn’t left you on such a bad note; that he didn’t spit at your feet and push you away when you tried to stop him from leaving the temple in which you both sought refuge. He wished he’d at least bade you a proper farewell and that his last words to you didn’t consist of him questioning your abilities just so he could keep his ego intact.

As Sukuna laid dying, surrounded by Japan’s most powerful sorcerers, he realised, finally, that he would never see you again; or feel your hand wipe at his face after another victorious battle.

For the first time in his life, the King of Curses shed a tear.

The braver sorcerers scoffed, some even taunted him, assuming he was merely afraid of death, whereas the warier ones hesitated in approaching him to deliver the final blow, taken aback by the uncharacteristic gesture. Still, with his immense cursed energy forming a protective barrier around him as a last resort, the sorcerers hadn’t won the battle quite yet.

A few minutes later, in fact, they lost it.

Sukuna remains silent, pondering over Nobara’s question. As promised, he didn’t show his anger and hid his grief even better. Truth be told, he doesn’t know if you’re alive.

“I told you not to go,” you spoke, voice trembling as you rested his head in your lap, your hands wiping the blood off his face. “I told you you’d die, didn’t I? Why didn’t you listen? Why?”

The sound of your soft sobs mingled with the noise from outside the pitch-black barrier you’d placed around the both of you. The sorcerers who survived your ambush were chipping away at your cursed energy shield and it was only a matter of time before they would break through.

“Even after all I said to you before I left,” Sukuna murmurs, relishing in the feeling of your skin against his, “this is what you choose to scold me over?” He let out a weak chuckle.

“I know of your grief and regret, I know you’re sorry and I’ve long forgiven you.”

“Thank you, my (Y/N).” He turned his head to press his lips against your palm for the final time. “Now go. You have to escape before the damned sorcerers force their way in.”

“No.” Your defiant tone juxtaposed with your tear stricken face amused him. “I’ll be here to see you off and then I’ll kill them all.” You leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “I’ll wait for your return, my love.”

When Sukuna refused to answer Nobara’s question and promptly disappeared, the trio assumed that was the end of it all. As much as they wanted to leave the information behind them, they still find themselves talking about it as they wait in line at a new sushi place that opened near the school.

“Kinda weird he was so insistent on telling us everything, huh?” Yuuji remarks.

“I highly doubt that was close to everything, though.” Megumi scratches the back of his head. “It felt like he was withholding a lot, like when he didn’t answer Nobara’s question.”

“Yeah, that was pretty lame,” she says with a pout. “I really wanna know if they’re alive or not. I mean, their whole story was pretty interesting but imagine how scary it’ll be if (Y/N) was still alive and in Japan after all this time.”

“Table for three, please,” Yuuji says to the staff at the counter once it’s their turn. They stare at him for a brief moment before a happy yet somehow sinister smile stretches across their face. The jujutsu sorcerer feels his blood run cold as he feels Sukuna suddenly begin to vie for control over his body.

“Finally,” you whisper, body and soul flooded with sheer relief as tears run down your face. You reach your hand out to touch Yuuji’s face and though he tries his very hardest to turn away and run, he finds his body frozen in place. “I’ve been waiting for you, my love.”

[graceloveswolves]

Paul Lahote Oneshot

Requested by @youralternantpersonality​

*Paul x Reader: Y/n (who’s adopted to residents in Forks) is friends with Jacob, who abandons her at her worst time (adopted parents are giving her up) because he shifts. She doesn’t like confrontation, so she just goes to the Res to return his stuff and grab hers at Billy’s when he runs into her. The pack is behind her while she and jake are arguing. She goes to leave and Paul imprints on her, not know she may or may not come back to her home town*

______________________________________________________________   “Sorry, I’m busy right now. Leave a message”

      I wiped my tears from my face and dropped my phone on my bed, trying to hold in my cries. My bestest and closest friend- ex friend- has officially decimated our friendship, with no explanation. No reason for it, all I got was “Don’t talk to me again.” and “We aren’t friends anymore.” Pretty subtle, and brutal. Even for Jacob, his words had hit deep, and with no one around me to take it out on but myself. And to make things worse, my parents-adopted parents- have told me that they can’t take care of me anymore, and that they are giving me to someone in Southern Texas for awhile, if not forever. So in a way, I guess I was going to lose Jacob Black anyway. I guess our friendship was just bound to crash and burn, just like my other ones.

   I stared at my phone, debating if I should call him back or not. I then looked around at my empty, boxed up room. Today was my last day in Forks, I spent the last week packing my room up and loading it into a moving van. Preparing to say goodbye to Forks for awhile, or at least until my adopted family could financially support me again. Which I have my doubts on, so I spent every minute I could spare, soaking up Forks before I mostly likely say goodbye to this tiny town for good.

     Unlike some, I actually enjoyed this tiny area. I felt like I had a destiny here, like I was meant to be here. I felt it deep in my bones, like I haven’t fulfilled my destiny yet. Like my existence hasn’t served its purpose here yet. Maybe its the nostalgia, or broken heart. But I felt like my fate was telling me to stay, that I wasn’t done yet. I shake my head from my sadden thoughts and pick up the last box in my room. Looking down at the label in sharpie, I read JACOB BLACK.        I sighed, closing my eyes for a few minutes. If Jake won’t answer the phone, then I guess I’ll just have to drop his stuff off at his house myself, at least then I can go grab a few of my things I left in his house over time, since we practically lived in each others houses growing up, despite being in different areas. I walked out of my ex guardians house, refusing to look at them, I get into my car, throwing the box in the back seat, feeling glad he didn’t answer the phone, at least then I have a chance of getting in and out without facing him, because after the fight we had, I don’t think I want to run into him.      I drive away from the house I once lived in, knowing that I’ll probably never see those people ever again. The people who raised me, made me who I am today. Even though they were barely in the house, and I never really grew close with either one of them, it still hurt, knowing that the only relationship I had with someone that meant something to me, apparently never meant anything to him. I bit my lip, refusing to let another tear shed over someone who didn’t give a damn about me. 

    Once I made it to Jake’s house, I turn the car off, sitting there, bracing myself to say goodbye to everything that ever made me happy. I started to recall all of the memories I had made here. From me breaking my arm for the first time, to Jake losing his tooth for the first time, to me accidentally knocking him out playing tag To him making me pass out from being in a head lock for too long. I laughed quietly to myself from the funny memory, before the sound of little tapping on my car roof snapped me back to reality. 

   I frowned up at my windshield that was quickly starting to be overruled by raindrops. Typical. Of course, could this get any worse? I thought to myself as  I got out of the car quickly, grabbing Jake’s box and making my way to the tiny house that grew to be my second home growing up. I didn’t bother knocking, since I would only be a minute and I practically lived here all my life. I opened the door quietly and set the box down on the counter as I welcomed myself into Jake’s house.

    I looked around the house and started picking up a few things that were mine like my favorite shirts, or my hairbrush. Once I searched every room but one, I bit my lip, glancing at Billy’s room, he must still be sleeping, it was still kinda early in the morning, I didn’t  search it, not wanting to wake him, I don’t think much of mine is in his room anyway. I decided to skip his room and put all my items into my purse that I had brought with me, and gave the house one more last look, before I started walking out of the tiny red house and closing the door behind me.    I gasped, meeting face to face with the last person I wanted to see right now. He had grown at least a foot, and had cut his hair, which was now cropped and soaking wet from standing in the pouring rain. “What do you think you’re doing?” Jake had questioned, in a deep and serious tone. “I-I... I tried to call you, you didn’t answer.” I clutched to my purse, taken back from the size of his muscles, he had grown at least twice the size in like two weeks.

  “You didn’t answer my question Y/n.” Jake said a little louder, I was about to snap back at him, but something caught my eye over his gigantic shoulder, it was other people, it was Sam, and his stupid minions. Anger suddenly boiled over me, everything had now made sense. He had left me for drugs, drugs and other stupid arrogant boys. Then another though crossed my mind. He didn’t leave me, he replaced me.    I was over here, tearing myself apart wondering what I did wrong, crying myself to sleep for a week, while he was sleeping peacefully and having a wonderful time not having a care in the world, no doubt doing drugs with his new buddies and partying. Fine, if I really didn’t mean anything to him, then why should he mean something to me. I shook my head in pure anger.

  “You know what Jake? You are pathetic! You dodge my calls all week and leave me with no explanation only to find out I had been replace by a bunch of stupid boys that we both hated together?! Seriously, is testosterone and steroids worth more then our friendship? Do you feel cool now? Bad boy Jake is all grown up now?!” I yell at him, backing him up to the point where we both are standing in the freezing rain. However unlike me, he hadn’t been shivering at all.        “Why are you even here? I already told you we aren’t friends anymore and I don’t want you around anymore? What part of that don’t you get?” He answered with sass, throwing his hands up. His buddies stepped closer, obviously not minding their own business. “I’m sorry that I’m having trouble grasping the fact that the only true friend that I’ve grown up with for 15 years has suddenly left me like I never meant anything. You hurt me Jake. I’m hurt. And I don’t even know w-why.” I choked on the last word, feeling my throat tighten, and tears threatening to spill.        We stood in the rain in silence, my ex best friend was looking down at the ground, as if he was trying to find something to say. I crossed my arms, standing there, drenched in the rain, waiting for him to say something, anything.

  “Go home Y/n.” Jake replied, looking down at his feet. Not even being able to look me in the face like a man. That’s when the water works started to kick in. Once he heard my sniffling, he perked his head up. I gave up trying to keep my tears in, I have had a shitty week and he deserves to know how much he’s hurt me. However, I looked up back at him, so many hateful things to spit at him floating in my head, however I couldn’t find the courage to spit them out. Because deep down I still cared for him like my brother, and I don’t want my last moments with him to be worst then they already are.    “I-I-I don’t have a h-home anym-m-more.” Was all I said to him, brushing past him, wiping my eyes from both the tears and rain. I suddenly felt his extremely warm hand wrap around my wrist and turn me around, my back facing his new crew and my car. “What is that supposed to mean?” He looked down at me, his eyes scanning my tiny figure. As if he was suddenly panicking from my response.

   “I’m moving you stupid cow! My parents can’t afford to support me anymore! I go to Texas tonight, so don’t worry, you’ll never have to see me again.” I snapped, ripping myself out of his grip, turning around not letting him have the last word. As I went to take a step, I accidentally walking right into one of his new druggie friends. Who I hadn’t realize were right behind me and were so close. The rock hard frame had caught me, leaving me stunned from whiplash. “Watch it asshole!” I spat up at him, anger snapping out. Our eyes locked, and I had noticed which one I had ran into. 

I believed his name was Paul, very hotheaded if I remember right from Jake. I suddenly regretting snapping this particular member once noticing him staring dead back at me, not letting go of my hips which were in his grasp. However as I looked closer, his stare didn’t hold anger, it held surprise, and shock. And it was making me uncomfortable, just like my soggy wet clothes I was currently in, and would be driving in, all the way to Texas. “Get off me perv!” I exclaimed, pushing the star struck guy away from me, marching my way into my car. 

 Once I was in the safety of my car, I start to uncontrollably sob. Everything that had ever happened within the years I lived here meant nothing, friendships, memories, relationships, all of it, gone. And I had to pack up and start over, leaving everything behind forever. As I drove away I couldn’t help but feel as if I left a piece of me there, like I had not finished nor served my purpose here.  Maybe I’ll come back, maybe one day I will come back and find my purpose, if it’s still waiting for me.

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

Here’s to knowing you have to wake up at 5:30am tomorrow but still staying up to write this anyways because fuck sleep, its overrated... until I hear my alarm clock. - graceloveswolves :)   

[vanderlindemorgans]

Cross My Heart (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+

Summary: A traitorous Agent Whiskey returns to the United States on the run. Being cast out by Statesman, he soon finds that you’re the only person he can turn to - the embittered former flame from years long passed

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Eventual smut, some references to alcoholism and drug use. Reader is in her late twenties but there is an age gap between her and Whiskey. Chapter specific warnings: heavy drinking, someones arm gets broken, also some very vague mentions of a shootout, reader is in denial about being in denial (so the usual pretty much)

Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

You thought it would just be one coffee. One simple mistake as a result of you being extra tired, or something like that. You’d give it to him, hear his stupid little remark meant to rile you up, and then it’d be done - it would never happen again. 

Here’s the thing, though: you kept making more. After that day, every morning when you woke up, you’d grab two coffee mugs and make one for the both of you - yours with extra cream, his straight black. You knew he liked to add a shot of whiskey to his, even though you pretended not to notice when he not-so-discreetly pulled his flask out. Whatever he needed to get through the day, you shrugged, watching him out of the corner of your eye. You certainly weren’t about to judge him for his drinking habits in light of your own less than stellar track record. 

Neither of you dared to mention it so far. You hoped to high heaven that he wouldn’t: his little tease on that first day was barely enough to get under your skin though it had stuck to the back of your mind every morning you woke up. You’re not getting soft on him, are you?

Shaking your head furiously, you let out a low frustrated sigh as you moved to reach out for the bottle of wine next to you once more, flicking off the top and pouring almost a good half of the bottle’s contents into your glass. It was a Wednesday night but you didn’t much care - if the hangover was that bad the next morning, and it never usually was with a shiraz, you’d get some painkillers and get on with your day. The same thought as before repeated itself in your mind again, doing nothing short of vexing you further. Partially because you were worried it was true. Maybe you were getting soft on him. Maybe you weren’t as strong and stubborn as you thought if Jack Daniels had managed to worm his way back into your heart.

No. That couldn’t be it. You tossed your head back and indulged yourself in a rather large gulp of wine, letting the liquid rush down your throat in a desperate attempt to dilute the pitiful nonsense that had filled your head. What a ridiculous thought. You weren’t falling for Jack Daniels charm once more. No, you simply wouldn’t do that. You knew better than that. You knew that underneath that smooth facade was a flitting and emotionally unavailable man, the man who had broken your heart and made you suffer for what felt like evermore. You may have felt pity on him for his fall from grace, but anyone else would if they saw the state of him. Discarding the glass off to the side, you wanted to laugh at the simple absurdity of such an idea. Are you always this stupid with a wine-addled brain? 

Speaking of the devil, you heard his footsteps from up the stairs, taking you by surprise as you were certain that he was asleep by now. You crocked your head to the side, your eyes travelling up the stairwell to the small part of the landing that was in your immediate vision - you couldn’t catch a single sight of him. Shrugging to yourself, you returned to your almost empty glass of wine, feeling that familiar haze descend over your brain with every sip you took. This was fine. You could let yourself be swallowed by the alcohol, maybe even enjoy the fact that your nerves were loosened for just this once. If it could take all that shit away, then you’d gladly let it. And as for Jack? You’d continue on as you were: barely acknowledging his existence, and regarding him as nothing more than a ghost from your past. That’s what you wanted, right?

You’re lying to yourself and you know it.

Blinking your eyes rapidly, you stared out into the space in front of you, your mind lost a million miles away while you were in complete and utter astonishment over those few words that had crossed your mind. Things were quiet, still, even peaceful in a way, only for a second anyhow. That was before the rush came, that incensed anger that flashed across your mind for barely a moment, settling down into something resembling vague annoyance, directed at none other than yourself. Where the hell did that come from? For god's sake, get a grip on yourself. Standing up abruptly, you didn’t even stumble as you advanced back over to the liquor cabinet, dropping to your knees and scanning the tops of the glistening glass bottles under the dim lamp light. Your eyes landed on the bourbon you had stashed at the back and you reached out for it, carefully lifting it above all the others despite your intoxicated state. Resting the bottle against the palm of your hand, you let your fingers trace the grooves in the molded glass, a small bit of hesitation working its way into your mind, hesitation that was swiftly kicked aside in favour of that pesky little buzz that danced around the back of your head, that stupid little crumb of self doubt that refused to fucking leave. 

Guess I’m gonna need a bottle of something stronger to kick this shit. 

___

He didn’t know why he kept watching you. You weren’t doing anything particularly notable - you’d decided to take one of the horses out for a ride, practicing vaulting and the like. He remembered you’d once told him that as a young kid that you’d entered a number of equestrian competitions, and even won a few - he’d seen the trophies gathering dust on the mantle and the cute photos of you posing with your chosen horse, Buttercup, as a child. You explained years ago that you’d stopped participating in competitions but still liked to take the horses out for a spin every once in a while as a way to relax and clear your head. As he watched you now, he could already see the stressors of the day melting away from your visage, leaving only a steely focused expression in its wake as you cleared another jump. 

It was the first time in weeks he’d seen you truly relaxed at all, or showing any sort of emotion other than your usual show of cheerfulness you splashed on for the customers, woven with a current of underlying stress and irritation. Seeing you like this couldn’t help but remind him of better times: you’d taken him out on the horses more than a couple of times when the two of you were together. Jack had always labelled himself as something of an animal lover, ever since he was a kid. He didn’t, and hadn’t, had any pets for a good ten years now though at some point long ago he wanted something similar to what you had - a nice ranch situated out in his home state of Kentucky with a bunch of animals and his family. That dream had seemed so close to him once that he could have sworn it would be a reality yet fate wasn’t so kind to him in that regard. The memory of it all alone hadn’t ceased to become any less painful to him: seeing the broadcast on the news of a shootout down at a local convenience store only to get the call moments later confirming what he’d already feared to have happened most. 

Not a day passed where he didn’t wish he could go back to a time before that day, where even the simple idea of having a family didn’t seem so foreign and unattainable. He felt himself grip onto the wooden bar of the veranda just a tad bit tighter the longer his thoughts fixated on it, though the sound of a piercing shriek immediately brought his attention back to you, his eyes darting around in a frenzy, determined to know what had caused you to cry out in agonising pain. Upon seeing your body lain flat on the ground he rushed forward, vaulting himself over the edge of the varanda and calling out your name. “Are you alright, sugar?” he shouted, throwing open the gate to the ring and racing over towards where you were lying. The faint sounds of you whimpering did nothing short of send him into panic mode, seeing how much it hurt you to move only adding to his worry. “I’m fine, I just...the dumb horse got spooked by something and bucked me off” you groaned, struggling to pull yourself up, leading you to let out another loud yelp when you tried to move your left arm.

Swooping in to catch you before you fell, Jack gently reached for your arm and pulled it towards him, his eyes widening the moment he caught sight of the horrific fracture done to it. “Darlin’, don’t lie to me, you’re not fine. Arms are not meant to look like this!” he stressed, studying your eyes intensely, trying to gauge if you had some sort of a concussion. They were slightly glazed over, and your gaze kept wandering from him as if you were having trouble focusing. “How’s your head feelin’, sweetheart?”. 

“Kinda dazed. Hurts like a bitch as well” you grumbled, leaning your head against his shoulder slightly. Every bone in your body felt like it was screaming at you like some sort of symphony, the pain in your arm being the worst of all. Your vision had also become slightly blurry and kept splitting double every few seconds, only contributing to your general haziness. Your thoughts were running a mile a minute, scattered around your brain and refusing to slow down. Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and up into Jack’s arms, your head lolling slightly against his forearm as he carried you back up to the house. Running through your memory, you couldn’t really remember what had happened fully: you had just made another jump and were circling around the ring to gain speed for another when suddenly you were on the ground and your horse, Molly, was a few feet ahead of you. 

Jack brought you up to the varanda and laid you down on the bench, grabbing one of the old decorative throw pillows you had to rest your head on.“Stay here for a moment, I’m gonna get you some ice, then I’m gonna call an ambulance and get ya to an emergency room” he instructed before ducking back inside the house.

“Is that really necessary, Jack?” you shouted out after him, leading him to stick his head back out the door to look at you incredulously. “Sweetheart, your arm is broken and you're clearly concussed. I think the situation more than calls for it” he replied with a deadpan tone, disappearing back into your house to find you some ice. Resting your head back against the pillows, you turned to see Molly trotting around near the edge of the fenceline, acting as if she hadn’t just thrown you off her back for no apparent reason at all. 

“Yeah, just had to buck me off, didn’t ya? Thanks asshole!” you shouted out, doing your best to ignore the persistent throbbing in the side of your head and the dull ache from where your arm was rested. Thankfully, partially due to the concussion probably, it didn’t feel as bad as before, though at the same time you could have just simply become more tolerant of the pain. Not to say it didn’t still hurt like literal hell or that it was any less easy to take notice of. 

“Honeybee, I get you’re in pain but yelling at the horse isn’t doing anything” you heard Jack say to you as he made his entrance once more, holding a tea towel containing several large blocks of ice in his hand. Muttering out a small ‘thank you’, you took the towel in your hands and pressed it against the swell of your arm, letting out a small hiss the second you felt the sharp sting of the cold on your skin. “I know yelling at the horse does nothing, but it’s making me feel better” you grumbled. 

“Is it? Is it really?” Jack scoffed, subsequently choosing to ignore the sharp death glare you gave him after his flippant remark. “I’ve called an ambulance, they’ll be here to get you to a proper hospital in no time. You really had me worried there when I heard you scream”.

“Oh, so you do care about me after all” you jeered, your signature sarcastic edge seeping through your tone. You shifted slightly to try to position yourself up a little more so that you could face him properly yet as you moved a heavy sting of pain shot through you, causing you to yelp out a little and tense up in response. As if it were instinctual to him, Jack moved towards you and helped you settle back down. “Try not to move too much until the ambulance gets here” he directed. You didn’t know if it was your imagination or not, but you could have sworn his hand lingered on your forehead a second longer than it should have, his fingertips brushing against your skin and leaving a burning sensation in their wake, something that, shamefully so, made your heart skip a small beat. “Now, about me not caring - sugar, when are you gonna accept that no matter what happened between us that I still care about you as a person?” he asked. Shoving those thoughts to the back of your mind, you settled on glaring back at him with a quick witted quip to combat him, because that’s all he was to you: an annoyance, a nuisance, a royal pain in the ass. You were doing him a favour by letting him stay with you. There was nothing more to this.

“Try never, asshole” you snapped, one note harsher than you originally intended. As usual whenever you bit back at his banter, Jack shrugged and rested back into the wall he was standing against. For once, though, you felt bad at snapping at him like that - there wasn’t any need for it, he was only trying to help. Not knowing if you could fully coax the words ‘I’m sorry’ from your mouth, you settled on something less apologetic but still sort of the message across. “But...really, thank you. For, y’know, helping me out here” . 

Jack looked at you for a moment, somewhat taken aback at what you’d said before he softened a bit.“Of course, sugar. Call it returning the favour for taking care of me a couple of weeks back” he answered, giving you that sweet smile of his that hadn’t managed to unweave itself from those old memories. And for once, you allowed yourself to smile weakly in return.

[actress4him]

Whumptober 2020 - Day 24

I kinda got way too into writing this one. I just wanted to keep going and going, really could have added more than I did, and couldn't figure out where to end it...then I realized that tomorrow's prompt was perfect for a part 2. So that's what I did. Yay, our first ever part 2! Anyway, check the warnings if you don't mind some mild spoilers, this one does get a little rougher than some but ahh...I think it's one of my favorites. And it's a good thing so many of you said you love platonic Kidge because here it comes again!

Read on AO3

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Day 24 - Forced Mutism/Blindfolds/Sensory Deprivation

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Warnings: restraints, torture, sensory deprivation, electric torture, dislocation, muzzle, broken bones, mild blood

Pidge was getting aggravated. Scratch that, she was way past the point of aggravation, she was ticked off. It had been four quiznaking days since the quiznaking Galra had captured her, and she had just been sitting in this quiznaking cell ever since, for no quiznaking reason. Nobody had even come to see her! No threats, no questions, no torture, nothing. What was the quiznaking point of capturing a Paladin of Voltron if you were gonna just ignore her?

Not that she was, like, dying to be tortured or anything. More than once since her arrival, screams had echoed down the hall, sending shivers down her spine and making her stomach turn somersaults. 

No, the thought of being tortured definitely terrified her. But she was getting pretty sick of sitting in an empty cell with her ankle chained to the wall. The only interaction she’d had so far was with the stupid sentries that brought her food, and they couldn’t carry on a conversation to save their precious Empire. She was lonely, okay? Yeah, she was an introvert who could spend days on end locked in her room, but that was on her terms, and she had her computer and projects to keep her company. 

At least being lonely meant that she didn’t have to worry about any of her teammates. They were out there, looking for her, she knew it, and that was the best place for them to be. If any of them had ended up in there with her and got hurt...she didn’t know what she’d do. They were her family. Yeah, she still believed Matt and Dad were out there, and she was bound and determined to find them. But this team was her family, too, in a weird and wonderful way, and she’d do anything to keep them safe. 

Finally, on the morning of day five, the cell door creaked open, and somebody who actually wasn’t a sentry stepped inside. 

“It’s about time,” Pidge snapped before the soldier even had time to speak. “You guys don’t get in a hurry around here, do ya?”

The Galra - a lieutenant by the design of his armor - was taken by surprise for an instant, but quickly recovered with a smirk. “My profuse apologies. We’ve had...other pressing matters to deal with. But rest assured, you have our full attention now.”

Pidge gulped. Well that wasn’t really what she wanted. But she wasn’t going to let him know that. She lifted her chin.  “Good.”

His smile grew. “Since you’re so eager to see me, should I assume that you’re ready to cooperate?”

Crossing her arms, Pidge narrowed her eyes. “Never. I don’t even care what it is you want from me.”

“A list of planets that have joined your Coalition,” he immediately replied. “See, nothing too complicated. Not even anything to do with your beloved Voltron.”

“Yeah right. I told you, it’s not happening.”

“Very well.” The lieutenant nodded amiably. “I had a feeling that would be your answer. That’s why I came prepared.” Leaning back, he knocked twice on the wall next to the door.

Pidge sneered. “It doesn’t matter what you bring in here, I’m not gonna -”

She cut off her own tirade as two grunt soldiers appeared, dragging and then harshly shoving something very person-looking onto the floor. It wasn’t until the something had tumbled a couple of times and came to a halt facing her that she was absolutely sure that it was a person. A very human-like person. A very battered person. 

He wore only a pair of tight black pants that reminded her of her own flight suit, and all his skin above that was painted with purple and blue and even black in some places. More disturbing than that, though, was what covered his entire face. A blindfold, for starters. And over his nose and mouth, a hideous metal contraption with thick straps holding it in place. 

It was a muzzle. 

Pidge was already feeling nauseous at seeing this guy’s state. But then she noticed the hair. And that’s when her stomach plummeted to her toes. 

“Keith?”

It couldn’t be him. He wasn’t supposed to be here. She would have known if he had been here the whole time, being... being hurt, being tortured...oh quiznak, it hadn’t been him she had heard screaming...had it?

“Ah, so you do recognize him.” The lieutenant chuckled, crossing over and nudging at Keith’s metal-covered chin with the toe of his boot. “It is a bit difficult with his... accessories.”

“What did you do to him? Keith!” She didn’t even care that the tears clogging up her throat were very much audible.

“Oh, don’t strain yourself trying to get his attention, dear. He won’t be able to hear you.” Crouching down, he grabbed a handful of that unmistakable black hair and yanked until Keith’s head and shoulders were up off the ground and his face was turned to the side. A muffled moan came from under the muzzle, and Pidge’s heart squeezed.

“You see this?” The Galra pointed to Keith’s ear, where she could just barely make out something purple. “Blocks all sound.” He released the hair, and Keith’s head dropped to the concrete floor with a crack that made her flinch. “Just like this blocks all light -” he ran a finger over the blindfold -“and this, of course, keeps him from speaking.” He grabbed the muzzle and shook it. “He can still make some quite delightful sounds, though. All of it works together to make doing things like this so much more entertaining.”

One of the soldiers stepped forward, producing a long stick from somewhere on his person and jabbing it into Keith’s ribs. It crackled with purple lightning, and he screamed, writhing on the floor.

Pidge lurched forward, despite already knowing that her leash wouldn’t let her reach him. “Stop! Stop it, don’t hurt him!”

The lieutenant laughed aloud. “It’s perfect, isn’t it? He has no idea what’s coming for him and when.”

The rod made contact again, at his waist this time. The sound that came out of him was awful, literally the worst thing that Pidge had ever heard. She glared at the lieutenant through tear-filled eyes.

“You’re a monster.”

He flashed her a brilliant, sharp-toothed smile. “Thank you. I do try. Now…” Standing, he strode a few steps in her direction. “Would you like to reconsider telling me about those planets, or should we continue?”

No! she screamed inwardly. No, you can’t make me choose. This is the fate of the universe we’re talking about here, but he’s...he’s my brother! A brother that maybe she didn’t know all that well, considering how they both sucked at social interactions, but that just meant she understood him more than the others. Besides, she knew enough. She knew he was brave, and painfully shy, and had a heart of gold beneath his tough-guy exterior. She knew he didn’t deserve this. 

But what could she do? As much as it killed her, she couldn’t throw away the safety of millions of people for him. There was no guarantee they’d actually stop hurting him, anyway. And if they did...he’d never forgive her. Keith always put the safety of others before his own.

“Well?”

Gritting her teeth, she kept her eyes on the terrified, trembling boy on the floor. “I can’t.”

“Very well, then.”

She expected the rod again, but instead both of the soldiers went at him with their heavy boots, pounding the toes into his already destroyed flesh over and over again. He made no noise after the first couple of strikes, only curled in on himself as best he could with his hands cuffed behind his back, instinctively trying to protect his organs. It didn’t matter, though, the sounds the boots made against his body were bad enough. She was pretty sure she heard the pop of ribs breaking. She thought she might puke.

Instead, she sank to the floor with weak legs, crawling forward until the chain was taut and she was as close to him as she could get. The tears that had flooded her eyes until then spilled over, streaming down her cheeks. 

Keith. She wanted so badly to be able to reach out, to comfort him, to let him know she was there. But he wouldn’t know it was her, even if she could. He’d probably flinch away, thinking she was yet another who meant him harm.

“I wonder what he’d think,” the lieutenant began, as if reading her thoughts, “if he knew you were here. If he realized that you had the power to make this stop, that all of this pain was your fault.”

The barb struck true, but Pidge clenched her fists and refused to let it embed itself any further. “Your fault,” she growled. “This is your fault, not mine. You’re the monster here.”

Rather than answering, he reached up and grabbed a chain from the ceiling, pulling it down with a deafening rattle and hooking it onto Keith’s manacles. Taking his cue, grunt soldier number one crossed to a crank on the wall and began to turn. The chain slowly retracted, taking Keith’s wrists with it. Pidge slapped her hands over her mouth to stifle a sob as she saw him realize what was happening and scramble to get his feet under him, slipping back onto his knees more than once before he succeeded, and swaying heavily once he finally stood.

The chain kept going. They weren’t satisfied once it was pulled taut, they kept cranking until he was forced to bend over forward with his arms straight out behind him, and Pidge was worried his shoulders were going to come out of their sockets.

“Stop. Stop it! That’s enough!”

The grinding of the crank halted, and the lieutenant turned to face her. “Yes? Was there something you’d like to share?”

Pidge deflated from where she had risen up on her knees. “N-no.”

“Hm.” He waved a hand at the soldier, and the crank was turned one more time. Keith’s head fell further down.

Grunt soldier number two took the rod and thrust it straight down into the center of his back. Keith almost fell, but somehow managed to lock his knees in the midst of shaking and screaming. 

Pidge’s fingernails bit into her palms and her teeth into her bottom lip. She couldn’t even imagine how that felt on his spine, not to mention the jarring on his overextended shoulders. 

She hated this. The names of the planets he wanted to know were right on the tip of her tongue, a whole list that she had memorized long ago. All she’d have to do is say one, and they’d at least give him a little bit of a break, right?

But just one name meant thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands of people facing this kind of violence in retribution for joining the Coalition. 

It wouldn’t be the boy who she saw as a brother. 

But it would be equally as horrible for so many others. She wouldn’t be able to forgive herself for that, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to for this, either. 

And she was growing more uncertain by the minute that Keith would forgive her for this.

“Are you sure you have nothing to say?”

Pidge stared straight ahead, refusing to answer.

Circling to the other side of his prisoner, the lieutenant jerked Keith’s head up by his hair again, putting untold strain on his neck. A quiet whimper came from behind the muzzle. “You know, it is a bit of a pity that we can’t see his facial expressions. I just love seeing the pain in their eyes.” Drawing his fist back, he slammed it into the only exposed skin on Keith’s face, his cheekbone, snapping his entire head to the side. When he released his hair, letting his head drop back down toward the floor, there were multiple strands of black hair still stuck between his fingers. Pidge watched them flutter to the floor with a knot in her chest.

“Will you leave him alone? I’m not going to tell you anything!”

“Sorry, dear. No can do. You have to give me something if you want something in return.”

Grunt soldier number one suddenly came back to life, kicking Keith’s knee out from under him. The kick itself probably didn’t hurt. The subsequent stumble that dislocated his shoulder with a loud, sickening crack did.

“No!” Pidge cried, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out his wail. “Keith!”

“Anything to say?”

“I hope you rot!” she shrieked, lunging forward as if she could get her hands around his throat. “When our team finds us, and they will, I will make sure that you die a slow and painful death!”

The lieutenant threw his head back and laughed. “You’re cute. Maybe once I’ve gotten what I want from you, I’ll just keep you for entertainment. My little pet.”

Keith was still trying to struggle back onto both feet. His breathing was ragged, audible even through the metal, and he trembled even harder than before.

Glancing at a screen on his wrist, the lieutenant sighed. “Unfortunately, I have other matters I must attend to. This seems like as good of a time as any to leave you two to think for a while. Rest assured, I will be back soon.”

With that, he was gone, leaving Pidge with a raw, bleeding ankle and tear-soaked face, and Keith still in a stress position with no senses, wondering when the next blow would come.

“Keith,” she whispered into the once again quiet cell. “I’m so sorry.”

[faelune-home]

FFXIV Write #2: Aberrant

(a/n: I’m relieved that the first week of ffxiv write doesnt have the 24 hour submission deadline on works, because this prompt was a bit tough to think of ideas for at first. :’D and then even when I did manage to write it, a day later, real life took my attention and i couldn’t post it when I wanted to.

But in the end, after musing and pondering over the prompt, two ideas came to mind to try and write, but one was a bit stronger to work with than the other. So have an npc focused piece with Gosetsu and Yotsuyu :’)

I go back and forth on the Doma patch story a lot, there’s parts I kinda like but also parts I don’t :’) For all Ala Mhigo only got 4.1 to itself, it felt like a strong story about where the nation is gonna go moving forward.

Spoilers for StB and the StB patches.

Word count: 847)

Were it not for the dull ache in his head and the creaking of his bones, the dryness gluing his parched throat together all to remind him was alive, Gosetsu would surely have thought the kami were playing a cruel joke on him upon his entrance to the afterlife.

The bedraggled Yotsuyu staring down at him with great concern in her eyes certainly made it feel like some higher power was mocking him, especially as the woman asked in an uncharacteristically light tone, “Are you alright sir?”

“I feel as though a great weight has been dropped on top of me, yet it is that very pain that tells me I may still be alive,” Gosetsu grumbled, making to sit up, only to flinch and gasp out sharply in pain as a stinging sensation shot from his back. Ah yes, no doubt from the shot Yotsuyu gave him from her gun as he held up the roof of Doma Castle, to buy time for his master and companions to escape. And the very culprit had the gall to look horrified next to him.

“Oh no! Please sir, stay down. I tried to find help when I awoke but there’s no one else here,” she pleaded, making to settle him back to the ground, only for Gosetsu to wave her hands away and force himself to stand, another pained grunt accompanying the movement.

“Do not touch me,” he growled, though any intimidation was lessened by how tired he sounded. Yotsuyu backed away and lowered her head anyway. Content to ignore her, he turned to his surroundings.

They were on an island, debris from the castle littering the beach around them. Wooden beams, chipped tiles, some scraps of fabric that may have been a banner or a carpet, he couldn’t be sure. And the sea itself stretched on for malms and malms, not another feature in sight. A falcon cawed overhead.

“Well I can’t fathom how we will be able to return to civilisation at this rate,” Gosetsu sighed, “Although the One River flows into the Ruby Sea, mayhap with good fortune the Confederacy may come along and find us?” Casting a wary glance at his company, who had turned to watching the waves lap at the sand with an almost childlike curiosity, giggling even when they reached far enough to soak at her hands, he frowned.

Her behaviour was peculiar, so unlike the feared Witch of Doma, a cruel mistress that enjoyed watching men suffer. Even more so with how she had treated him so far, concerned and wary, as though she had no memory of him, or the past few days. Yet even with her innocent demeanor, thoughts and memories of all the pain and suffering she had caused, watching with a wicked smirk set upon painted lips, none of it would leave his head.

He still had his sword. He could cut her down and leave her on that island to rot. Finally let there be true peace in Doma, for as long as she lived, people would remember, and people would fear, and the nation would never truly recover.

Yet as he grabbed the handle of his katana, contemplating the idea and growing bolder to initiate it, a gasp from the woman shook him from his steel and made him look up. And he hesitated.

She’d found a little crab walking along the shore line, and her face lit in with joy to watch it crawl along. The sea had washed away most of her makeup, showing the age lines under her eyes, emphasised further by the broad grin she wore. And when she called for him to join her and see it, the mirth in her voice almost seemed to cover the hoarseness from many long years of tobacco use. It was unnerving how different she was at that moment.

He looked at her and he saw the sadistic woman that tormented his people for so many years, that crushed his own head into an ale soaked tavern floor and shot him in the back, set to die that day and take everyone in the room with her. She lay down with the empire to throw her own people to the dogs. He knew that.

And yet she had lived, drafted to safety alongside himself, and scarcely did she resemble the woman he knew in her new mannerisms. Was this the way of the kami? But why would they have to spare a monster but reduce her to a child? Who would ever know why the gods made their decisions, but it seems they had put her into Gosetsu’s care for whatever reason.

He crafted a raft from the debris remains of the castle that had washed onto the beach with them, fashioning rope from tree vines and the fabric scraps. They would make for Hingashi, with what little star navigation skills he had gathered over the years allowing him to pick out some constellations that would take them east. He would take the woman to Lord Hien, and he would decide her fate.

[theolddarkmachine]

Imaginary - Chapter Seventeen

Midoriya Izuku’s life was turned upside by fate.

Eri’s life was turned upside down by circumstance.

And Bakugou Katsuki is about to learn that even imaginary friends need to grow up.

Chapter 17 of 19

Also on AO3

A/N: It’s another kinda shorter one but FAO;IJSELDFJ DOST MINE EYES SPOT THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL? After this, only one chapter and an epilogue left! also, fun fact, tsuru was my grandma’s maiden name!

***********************

The sun is bright and warm, heating Katsuki’s skin as he lets his feet carry him along the sidewalk. He’s distantly aware of the continuous chatter beside him as his latest assignment goes over the tactics of their most recent game of capture the flag with the other neighborhood kids at the park.

Tsuru Yuji, age 6.

Target of schoolyard bullies.

Colorful personality trapped behind a stoic, quiet demeanor.

In the beginning, Katsuki had thought that he’d be a bit of a tougher case, one that would keep his mind from tracking back to the house just two streets over with the girl with the happy smile, and the man with the all too bright eyes.

But things never went the way he wanted them to, apparently, since it had only taken a matter of days to break Yuji from his shell, and just a couple of weeks for the change to completely turn his school life around. Now Yuji had friends, and the inability to stop talking.

“Mr. Bakugou?” His name shattered his reverie, pulling his attention down to the kid at his side. The sunlight glinted off of Yuji’s too big glasses, blinding him momentarily.

“How many times do I have to tell you to drop the ‘mister,’ kid?” Katsuki gruffs without any heat as he returns his gaze back to the pavement stretched before them.

Yuji’s reply comes in the form of a high pitched giggle before he continues on about how next time, they should make the top of the slide their home base.

“Then, we could just slide down if we need to get away fast!” He exclaims, hands shooting upward as if the revelation is groundbreaking. And maybe it is.

Who was Katsuki to say for sure?

“You’re too damn smart, kid,” he replies with a halfhearted laugh of his own as he keeps his eyes trained forward.

The first time they’d taken this route back to Yuji’s house, he had told himself it was a mere accident. His feet had grown so used to this street that they’d automatically made their way here before he could even acknowledge the direction they had gone.

Not that it had mattered, as he had told himself, as he’d stolen a quick glance at the Midoriya household just days after he’d left it for the final time. While a bit out of the way, this path still technically did lead to Yuji’s house.

The second time they’d taken it, Katsuki had told himself a bit more walking was good for them both. Nothing wrong with a bit more exercise and all that.

Now, a month later, he had run out of excuses to tell himself.

It had broken just about every big rule in the imaginary friend handbook, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying to catch just one more glimpse of the pair that had worked their way so far under his skin.

When he had left the Midoriya household for the final time, he had left a bit of himself behind. The gaping open maw of his chest had been exposed and raw, leaving him filled with a painful ache unlike anything he had ever felt. Katuski had felt loss in the past, but this had been wholly different, and in those first few days, he had wondered if he might never be whole again.

It was a dramatic thought, of course. One he had to swallow down like a bitter pill as he’d taken on his next assignment.

The ache remained, it had just numbed enough for him to be able to finally breathe again.

But that didn’t stop him from walking by their home whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Just to be sure things were still okay.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Gaze still ahead, and Yuji’s droning voice filling his ear, Katsuki feels his heart stutter at the sight of movement in the Midoriya’s yard.

The honey colored sunlight twists in Eri’s hair, making it shine bright as she cheers happily at something Izuku says. She looks absolutely elated as she crawls her way up into the car and waits for her dad to get her buckled in. When Izuku closes the door, and turns to walk around the back, Katsuki can see the wide smile that’s still stretched across his lips.

They look so happy, he thinks, and something about that knowledge fills his lungs with acid.

Katsuki watches as Izuku makes his way around the vehicle, his wide frame pausing at the driver’s side as he looked out toward the street.

For just one fleeting moment, Katsuki feels his breath stall in his chest as that familiar green stare passes over him. It’s gone almost as quickly as it has come, but it still leaves his heart racing as he watches Izuku climb into the car.

“Mr. Bakugou!” Yuji’s voice is indignant as he calls his attention back to him. Snapping his gaze away from the car as it backs out of the driveway, Katsuki hums.

“Yeah, yeah, kid,” he says, trying to ignore the strain that leaves him sounding breathless. “I’m listening.”

***

Katsuki was fucking angry.

And tired.

So goddamn tired.

Tired of the pitying looks his friends shot him when they thought he wasn’t looking. Tired of feeling like hole had been punched through his fucking chest. Tired of the emerald colored dreams that haunted him.

And especially tired of being summoned to the fucking Administrator’s office.

He’d woken that morning to the text that had the audacity to proclaim a meeting time for just an hour from then, and he already knew what it meant. Time to move on. Because it was always fucking time to move on.

Katuski would never be able to stay in one place for long, never allowed to be something permanent.

And that pissed him off.

His angry steps punctuated the otherwise quiet of the lobby, making the poor sap manning the front desk jump as they looked up from their coffee towards him.

“Mr. Bak—” they start to say, eyes going wide as he growls.

“Don’t call me that,” Katsuki hisses before he throws open the doors. The loud crack of the wood against the walls cut through the air in a dramatic way that would normally fill him with some sort of thrill. Now, it just settles somewhere in the vast expanse that sits at the center of his chest, lost to the empty feeling that’s slowly expanding.

“Lively as ever this morning, young Bakugou,” the Administrator says, not bothering to look up from the folder he’s holding open before him.

The sight of the unassuming tan of the file only serves to push the burning fury through him faster as he lets the doors fall shut behind him with another loud crash. It feels as if the air in the room is sucked out by the bone shaking sound as Katsuki fixes his fiery stare on Toshinori.

“Cut to the chase, old man,” he snarls, mouth twisting into a sneer that’s full of teeth and sharp rage.

A soft sigh brushes through the space as he watches the Administrator close the folder before gently pushing it toward the edge of the desk.

“Please take a seat,” Toshinori offers, keeping his attention forward.

“I’d rather just get this over with,” Katsuki bites out in return.

There’s another weighted pause before Toshinori sits back, his gaze finally finding Katsuki’s as it flashes with the steely silence of a command. For all the kindness and fun loving nature that encapsulated the Administrator, he had almost forgotten that he was the leader of the Imaginary Friends fo a reason.

Swallowing the sharp taste of his pride, Katsuki walks to the bean bag chair, falling into it with a muted thud.

“Talk,” Katsuki snaps, whittling the single word down to a barely there syllable as he keeps his gaze trained on Toshinori’s. His stubborn defiance is the only reason he catches the shift in the Administrator’s stare as it sweeps over him. Softening into something fond, and almost sad, it cools the inferno tearing through his veins, if only for just a moment.

“Have I ever told you about my predecessor?” He asks, solemn and far off, as if lost to the track of time.

“You brought me here for a fucking history lesson?” Katsuki growls, hands curling into tight fists where they sit on his knees. Toshinori’s eyebrow raises in silent admonishment. It forces a low string of grumbles from his mouth as he folds his arms across his chest and slips lower into the bean bag.

“His name was Banjo Daigoro, and he was a great Administrator,” he sighs at the memory. “But I was never his first choice for successor.”

A spark of interest lights the cavern of his insides as he cocks his head to the side.

“Originally, he had chosen one of my closest friends,” the Administrator continues before taking a steadying breath.

“Shimura Nana.”

The name rocks through Katsuki, sending a chill rocketing down his spine as his mind spins around the words that had encapsulate Shimura Nana’s terminated friendship.

“She was in training to take over the position, but was still going out into the field. Loved working with kids, you know?” He says, a small chuckle weaving between his words as his gaze goes distant at the memory.

“Banjo had assigned her a final case before she was going to be officially promoted. But then, she was seen.”

Shimura Nana reports child caretaker made verbal acknowledgement of her presence.

Katsuki remembered. She had only been with her charge for a week before it had happened.

And then—

Friendship terminated.

“Torino Sorahiko,” Toshinori rattles off, voice void of inflection as he recites what was written in the file word for word, as if it laid there before him.

“Lost both his parents. Was showing aggression towards his uncle, who had taken him in. He was a good kid, Nana was adamant about that. Then one day, his uncle saw her, and spoke to her.”

The blue of his eyes goes perfectly clear, settling into a cutting blue as his gaze returns to the present. Finding Katsuki once more, they whittle away at him until he’s flayed open, raw and exposed beneath the Administrator’s stare.

The feeling of being seen clings to him like a premonition. It’s equal parts awe and terror as it works its way through him.

Swallowing thickly, Katsuki speaks.

“What happened?”

But he knows. Has known for far too long.

Friendship terminated.

“We aren’t exactly supposed to be seen by anyone other than our charge, especially not by their parents or caretakers, as you know,” Toshinori says, pausing long enough to arch a brow at him before continuing.

“And Nana knew that too. Probably better than most, given the position she was going to take.”

He pauses again as his lips quirk sharply upward with bygone amusement and his voice falls into a hush, carried by the weight of his memory’s past.

“Funny thing is, that didn’t change anything. Even knowing hadn’t been enough.”

Katsuki’s breath catches deep in his throat and threatening to choke him as Toshinori speaks.

“Officially, they terminated the friendship. If you found Torino’s file right now, it would say as much. But Nana had returned after that, and they could still see her.”

Silence settles between them as Katsuki notices the way Toshinori’s eyes shine wetly.

“So, she made a choice,” he finally concludes with a shrug, as if what he had just said was nothing. As if he had just been talking about the weather. Katsuki might have even found it funny, how mundane he had made it, if it wasn’t for the fact that every single one of the Administrator’s words had been shrapnel that had torn him apart.

“What did she choose?” He hears himself ask, voice twisted into something even he doesn’t recognize. It hurts, the way it scrapes itself through his throat, and he could swear he tastes blood at the back of his tongue.

And yet for all the ways Katsuki ached, Toshinori just looks him over before fixing him with an all knowing smile.

Slowly, he reaches across the desk and pushes the folder closer towards him.

“It’s time to move on, young Bakugou,” he says by way of answer. The statement rings with a finality, one that doesn’t allow for argument or further discussion.

Sighing loudly, Katsuki grabs the folder, defeat hanging heavy across his shoulders in a way that makes him think he might find himself crushed into the ground with it.

Maybe that would be better, anyway, he thinks as he flips it open. With his eyes fixed down at the file, Katsuki feels his heart rate spike as it ratchets inside the cage of his chest.

“What is this?” He asks, not looking up. His pulse is deafening as it beats its soaring rhythm in his ears as his eyes trace back and forth across the folder, as if he’s missing something.

Except he knows he isn’t.

What could he possibly miss when the file itself is empty?

Katsuki’s tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth as he finally shifts his attention upward. His confusion is met with another smile.

“Even imaginary friends need to grow up,” the Administrator says. The words circle around him, overlaid with the memory from months ago, when he’d been in this same spot, only the folder before him then had held information about a little girl and her dad.

Then, he hadn’t known his life was about to change.

Now, he feels the sudden click of a realization deep in his chest as his gaze falls back down on the empty folder in his lap.

A rush works through him, filling the chasm at the center of his chest as his lips slowly turn up into a smile.

************************

[misskikuwrites]

Obligations and Excuses

Bede/Gloria (dressedinpinkshipping)

-

Gloria pulled open the cafe door, striding inside with a spring in her step and a smile on her face. The owner greeted her with a sigh of relief.

"Oh, Glori! You are my saviour!" he chimed, hurrying over to her. Despite the relief in his tone, his brow furrowed and he sagged. "But I'm afraid that even with your help, the event is all but doomed."

Gloria blinked at him. "What do you mean? What happened?"

She glanced around the battle cafe to where the other staff were setting up the chairs and tables, adjourning each booth with a tiny glass jar set with a single white rose. The white decorations were up. The signs out the front were as stunning as ever. Immaculate deserts filled the glass display beneath the counter. The battle court set to the side was spotless as though it had never seen a single Pokemon battle in its lifetime. Everything seemed to be going off without a hitch as far as she could see.

"It's Paul," the owner sighed heavily. "He hasn't turned up and isn't answering his phone. As thankful as I am for your help, without Paul, our White Day event is as good as dead."

Gloria's heart sank. "There has to be something we can do! What about the other trainers? Surely someone can fill in!"

"I've already contacted them all." He shook his head in dismay. "Finding a free trainer to fill in on White Day at the last minute is impossible."

"I was free!" Gloria countered quickly. "I'm sure we can find someone else!"

"But who?" The owner sagged further, slumping where he stood. "I'm all out of options."

Steely determination set in Gloria's bones and she straightened. Her hands tightened into fists. She wasn't going to let this fail without doing anything. She had to try.

"Leave it to me," she said, pumping a fist on her chest. "I'll find someone to fill in. One of my friends has to be free. I'll call in a favour or two if I have to!"

The owner lifted his head, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. "Oh, Glori, would you?"

She nodded, a blazing confidence burning through her veins. "I'll do what I can."

She glanced at the clock above the counter before whirling on her feet and headed into the staff room. Forty-five minutes until opening. She could do this.

Gloria pulled out her phone, her thumb about to press Hop's number when she froze. His assignment was due in a few days. He'd spent the last couple of days working late into the night, downing coffee after coffee, in order to get it done.

She blew out a sigh. Okay, so not Hop. Then… She scrolled through her contacts, letting the names fly past. She flicked her finger down the screen and it scrolled to the very top of the list. Her heart thumped as she stared at Bede's name. She pursed her lips, her stomach fluttering and churning at the same time, and tried to think through the strange feeling.

Asking Bede for help made sense. She was comfortable with him as a friend and as a partner in battles. He was, most likely, free of Gym duties like the rest of the league.

Although… that didn't mean he was free altogether. What if he had something on? Some other obligation?

What if he had a date?  

Something heavy plopped into her gut at that thought. She swallowed, her mouth and throat feeling too dry, and called him.

-

Bede stared at his phone with a scowl. He sat on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, a million thoughts swimming in his mind. He hadn't so much as unlocked the device and his heart had already begun to patter away in his chest. He couldn't think clearly with it thumping in his ears.

It should have been simple. Finding an excuse to see Gloria today was meant to be a simple task. She managed to find any and every excuse, every reason under the sun, in order to drop by unexpectedly to his Gym; surely he could do the same.

His mind drew a blank. The white object in the corner of his eyes, sitting beside him on the bed, made it impossible to think. Trepidation settled deep into his gut. The black screen of his phone glared back in silence, offering no solutions to his problem. He almost dropped it when her name flashed to life on the screen. It took a moment of panic, of his heart lodging into his throat, before he realised that Gloria was calling him.

He clambered enough clarity together to answer the call and took a deep breath so that his voice wouldn't crack when he spoke.

"Hey," Bede said. The fact that she was calling him was enough to cause a rush of heat to bloom across his cheeks.

"Hey, Bede!"

Her light-hearted chime sent his pulse skittering. He could hear the smile in her voice as she said his name. At least over the phone she couldn't see the way he began to flush, struggling to remain calm due to the fact that she'd called him the very moment he was thinking about her. Like she'd read his mind. Like something had drawn them together, untangling the strings of fate between them.

"I was wondering if you're busy today...?" Gloria asked and the nervous lilt in her question made Bede's heart skip. It thumped heavily in his chest, his gaze snapping to the small white box beside him, packaged neatly with a shiny white ribbon tied into a bow on top.

Today.

White Day.

Bede swallowed. "I don't have anything planned," he lied smoothly.

"Really? You're free?"

She sounded so excited. Her hopeful gasp stole the air for his lungs and his hand clenched into his blankets beside him in an attempt to ground himself in reality. He couldn't allow himself to get lost in her voice.

"Yes, I'm free." He spoke quickly, clipping his words to hide the tremor sneaking into his voice. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I've kinda got a favour to ask you…"

Oh.  

Bede's expression fell. "What is it?"

"See, there's this battle cafe in Wyndon that I go to a lot, and I know the owner really well. Anyway, he's running a White Day event where couples can challenge a battle couple and they get a free dessert if they win and go into the draw to win this big basket of goodies. And, well… last night, the girl who was meant to be battling called in sick so I'm filling in for her, but the guy who's meant to be my partner hasn't turned up and we can't find anyone to replace him. We're set to open in under an hour."

A pause.

"So… I was wondering if you'd be able to fill in instead."

"You want me to be a battle couple… with you?"

Silence fell. The realisation of what she was asking sank in slowly like the slow ebbing of the tide, rising higher and higher around him until he couldn't breathe.

"Only if you're okay with it," Gloria said quietly. "We're expecting a lot of people, there's going to be a big crowd and I know… you don't like that sort of thing. Th-The crowds, I mean!"

"I'll do it."

He heard her gasp. "Y-You will?"

"Yes, I'll do it. Text me the address and I'll be there soon."

"Oh, thank you, Bede!" Gloria chimed ecstatically. "Thank you! You're a lifesaver!"

"O-Of course I am."

She laughed, light and sweet like the tinkling of windchimes, and he could see her smile even though she was miles away.

"Oh, and can you bring your Gardevoir? The battles are two-on-two so we only need one Pokemon each."

Bede stood, swiping the box off his bed and stashing it securely in his bag. "Sure. Is that all?"

"Yup! I'll see you soon!"

"Alright. Bye, Gloria."

He could hear the bright smile in her voice. "Bye!"

Bede held the phone to his ear until she hung up, his eyes falling shut as he collected himself. As he realised what he'd agreed to. His phone pinged, Gloria having texted him the address, and he sighed deeply.

It was going to be a long day.

-

Gloria glanced at the cafe doors for the umpteenth time, tugging absently on the straight hem of her skirt. She'd changed into the cafe's uniform after she'd ended the call with Bede and had spent the next ten minutes pacing back and forth in front of the counter. Her black shoes clacked on the floor, tapping as fast as her anxious heart. She smoothed down the white apron tied around her waist. Fiddled with the black bow one of the waitresses had tied for her around her collar. The uniform was basic yet classy, the sleek, knee-length black skirt a nice contrast to the white blouse, yet Gloria felt out of place. Like it didn't suit her. Like a child rummaging through their mother's wardrobe, the uniform felt too professional. Too elegant. She felt like a pauper wearing a crown.

Gloria nervously fiddled with the free locks of her hair left to frame her face, the rest pulled into a high bun. The Love Ball in her pocket felt heavier than before. The doors open and Gloria whirled, excitement and relief escaping her as a gasp.

"Bede!"

She rushed over to him and snatched his hand, ignoring the way his eyes blew wide at her, and tugged him to the staff room.

"This way!"

"A-Alright, alright, I'm coming!" he huffed, but didn't resist.

She released his hand when they reached the staff room, striding over to the tall lockers and throwing them open.

"One of these should fit you," she said, flicking through the uniforms. "Come and help me. I don't know what size you wear."

She glanced over her shoulder to find him right there, right behind her, and she muffled a squeak in her throat and stepped aside. Their eyes met briefly, a snap of striking violet in her direction, before he focused on the hanging uniforms.

D-Did you bring your Gardevoir?" she asked, tugging on the lock of hair by her ear.

"Of course I did. Did you really think I would forget that so easily?"

She pursed her lips sheepishly. She'd only asked because she needed something to say, something to fill the silence other than the pounding of her heart. Bede pulled one of the uniforms out, studying it up and down.

"This should do," he said, nodding to himself.

"Right." Gloria found herself strangely breathless all of a sudden. "I'll… leave you to get changed, then. You can leave your stuff in any of the lockers. The ones with keys in them are free, just remember to take it with you."

"That's easy enough."

She turned on her heels and hurried out of the room, a weird fluttering filling her lungs. Her palms were clammy, and she wiped them nervously on her apron. She didn't know why she was this anxious. Why the rapid pace of her heart wouldn't ease at all despite everything falling into place. Bede was here. She had a partner for the event battles. Everything was set up, a line of eager customers already beginning to form outside. She strode over to her place by the court and tried to focus. Hopefully, when the battles began, her nerves would quieten.

Gloria bounced on her toes while she waited. Again and again, she sent anxious glances towards the staff room, before catching herself and forcing a hard stare forward.

Calm down, she told herself. You're just battling. There's nothing to be nervous about!

She shifted from foot to foot. Tugged at the hem of the skirt at her knees. Fixed the blouse tucked into her skirt at her waist, smoothed and recentred the apron where it hung. She picked speckles of fluff off her black tights and fiddled with her hair.

"Oh, Glori, he's perfect!" the owner's beaming voice snapped her back to reality. He clasped his hands together in front of his heart, fawning over Bede who blinked, wide-eyed, in stunned silence.

Gloria's heart skipped and danced as she walked over. The slim fitting black pants made his already long legs seem longer and leaner, and the white dress shirt fit him perfectly, the sleeves neither too long or too short. The bow around his collar was tied neatly. She swallowed, forcing her eyes to his face. She felt too warm. Perhaps wearing tights was a bad idea after all.

He looked good in the uniform. Really good. Almost too good. His confident air and elegant features made him look classy as though he were a waiter at a five star restaurant and not a simple battle cafe.

"It fits him well," Gloria said, giving the owner a smile so she didn't have to look at Bede.

"Doesn't it?" the owner agreed. "I might just have to hire you!"

"Thank you for the consideration. However, I am not looking for work at the moment, sorry." Bede calmly rejected the owner's proposition, his gaze fixed on Gloria. "I already have other commitments."

Gloria's heart thumped as though his words, somehow, carried a deeper meaning. She stared at the floor, her cheeks beginning to burn.

What's wrong with me today? He's just talking about his Gym Leader duties, that's all!

"Let's get ready, then," Gloria said. "This way."

She spun on her heels and marched over to the court, Bede's steady footsteps falling behind her. The sight of the court before her, the familiar weight of the Ball in her pocket, helped to steady her nerves. She took a deep breath and focused.

"We'll be working with your Gardevoir and my Gallade," Gloria said. "The battles can last up to ten minutes, and we'll have breaks in between to heal up our Pokemon."

She glanced at Bede, trying to smile beneath the buzz of her nerves. Her eyes flicked away. The flip-flopping of her heart made it difficult to meet his eyes.

"And… there's one more thing."

She chewed on her bottom lip, wondering if she should've told him about this earlier, before he'd agreed to help. He must have sensed the trepidation washing over her because his brow furrowed slightly in concern.

"What is it?"

"Well, since we're a battle couple, we're meant to… act like one too."

He stared at her. A blank look fell over his face.

"We're meant to… what?"

"B-Because it's a White Day event! It's meant to be about romance and couples and it was the owner's idea, not mine!"

Bede blew out a sharp puff of air, running a hand through his fringe. "And you decided not to mention this earlier?"

"Well, I-I didn't know if you'd agree if I said that was a part of it… I mean, you don't like physical contact and all…"

He sighed. "Gloria, I'm a professional. Do you really think I'd let something like physical contact get in the way of a job?"

She pursed her lips. "No, I guess not. Are you sure, though? Because if you're not comfortable with it, maybe we can figure something else out…?"

"It's fine." He stepped closer, his long legs closing the distance between them with a single stride. "If it's with you, I suppose I could bear a bit of physical contact."

Her breath caught. Bede gazed down at her, standing mere inches away, and the depths of his violet eyes nailed her to the spot. She couldn't move, couldn't bring herself to look away. She didn't want to look away. His right arm linked with her left and she jumped at the sudden contact, unable to hold back a tight gasp when fingers slid between hers to hold her hand.

"Is this what you meant?" Bede asked, lowering his voice and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. His lips lifted into a smirk. "If we're meant to act like a couple, then you need to wipe that look off your face."

"Wh-What look?" Gloria touched her burning cheeks with her free hand.

His short breath of laughter sounded right by her ear. "You look like you've never held hands with a guy before. You're bright red."

There was no air in her lungs.

"Th-That's because you- you did this out of nowhere!" she squawked. "I just… wasn't expecting you to take the initiative, that's all." Her voice quietened, her eyes snapping away shyly. "But… this works. I wasn't sure what you'd be comfortable with so this- this is fine."

It felt like her hand was already too sweaty, too clammy, too warm, in Bede's. Despite the swirling in her gut, a giddy bubble bloomed in her chest. She smiled.

"This might not be so bad after all," she said. "I'd much rather hold your hand than some guy I didn't know. And look," she held up her right hand and gave it a wave, "both our dominant hands are free! It's perfect."

"That's what you decided to focus on?"

Gloria pouted. "Yeah! This way, I don't have to worry about throwing the Ball with my left hand. It's great!"

"I suppose that's better than nothing…" Bede muttered.

"What?"

"It's nothing. They're about to open the doors."

Gloria straightened as the first customers swept into the cafe. A couple were directed straight to the court and she fished the Love Ball out of her pocket.

"Looks like we're up," she said.

A determined smile washed over her grin. Her eyes flashed. Everything fell away around her; the sounds, the people, the scent of coffee and the chime of the till. All she felt was Bede's hand in hers. She gave it a squeeze and received one in return.

"Let's win this." The fire in her heart spread to her lungs, her chest, her veins. Her competitive spirit reignited.

Bede's eyes landed on her for a moment. "I wouldn't settle for anything less."

-

"Yes!" Gloria cheered, pumping a fist in the air. "That's ten in a row!"

The couple standing opposite them returned their Pokemon dejectedly and moved off the pitch, their heads hanging low, and the corner of Bede's mouth lifted at Gloria's excitement. His Gardevoir and her Gallade smiled at each other, having worked perfectly in sync the whole battle. Gloria released Bede's hand to skip over to her Pokemon, showering him in praises and patting his head happily. Gardevoir floated silently over to Bede with a serene smile. He flexed his right hand, now tingling and too cold in the absence of Gloria's warmth, and gently caressed the top of Gardevoir's head.

"Good work," he said softly. A proud smile grew on his face as Gardevoir beamed beneath his praise.

"We might just be unbeatable together," Gloria chimed, shooting him a grin. She applied a Max Potion to the scrapes and scuffs on Gallades arms and hands tentatively. "How's Gardevoir holding up? She need a Potion too?"

"Thanks to Gallade, she's without a scratch again." Amused, Bede raised an eyebrow at Gloria's Gallade. "I don't believe Gardevoir has taken a single hit in any of our matches so far. He seems to be taking his role as the Pokemon of a battle couple very seriously."

The insinuation in Bede's tone made Gardevoir glance at Gallade who promptly stared at the floor.

"Aw, don't tease him!" Gloria pouted, patting Gallade's head sympathetically. "I think it's cute."

"Perhaps. Although, Gardevoir has years of battle experience over Gallade. She's hardly the one that needs protecting."

"Ori's trying his best." She smiled proudly at him. "He only evolved recently."

Gloria finished with the Max Potion, giving Gallade's head a final stroke.

"There, all done!"

She stepped aside as Gardevoir drifted over to Gallade and chimed gratefully to him. Orion responded quietly, his gaze still firmly on the floor. Gloria quickly trotted over to Bede, grinning adoringly at their Pokemon with a sparkle in her eyes.

"I think they like each other!" she whispered to Bede excitedly.

She bounced on her toes, hands clasped gleefully in front of her mouth to catch her gasps, and his heart squeezed tightly at the sight. Instead of their Pokemon, his eyes were stuck on Gloria. Excitement and joy thrummed through her whole body. In the way she bounced, in the way her shoulders drew close and tight when she gasped, in the way her cheeks flushed a delicate pink when she smiled.

It was moments like these that left Bede speechless. He didn't know how someone could feel so much, how someone could be full of so much emotion that it showed in the whole of their body. How Gloria could be so open, so expressive. So free. He didn't know how her emotions and excitement managed to wash over him. Just being in her presence, witnessing her joy, was enough for his heart to swell and his lips to tug skyward in a smile, as though her emotions were bleeding into him. Permeating his whole body - his chest, his heart, his lungs.

Her giggle made his thoughts skatter. "If we keep this up, no one's going to be able to take us down!"

"I thought that much was obvious."

She glanced at him, still grinning, and her expression froze for a split second when she saw the way he was looking at her, a smile playing on his lips. It took a moment for her to recover, a moment where Bede's heart skipped and stole his breath.

"You know, if we don't lose a single match, then we get to keep the prize!" she added, pointing to the large hamper sitting on the counter.

The basket was overflowing with an array of different items; boxes of chocolate, bottles of wine, scented candles, biscuits and sweets, gift vouchers to the movies, and that was all Bede could see poking out of the top. Everything was white, from the wicker basket containing it all to the neat bow tying it together. Gloria's eyes sparkled in determination at it.

"What are you planning on doing with all of that?" Bede asked.

"Share it with you, of course!" She nudged his shoulder playfully. "But I call dibs on the bath bombs!"

"Here I thought you were going to stake your claim on the chocolates instead."

"Wait, no, I want that too!"

"You're going to have to choose, Glori," he teased, using the nickname the owner had called her and she stiffened in shock, her eyes going wide as a flush darkened her cheeks.

"Wh-! Can't you choose something else?!"

"Careful, Glori. Not too loud. We're supposed to be a couple, remember?"

Bede linked his arm with hers, a teasing smirk on his face, and pulled her closer. She bristled and glared at him as another wave of heat flooded her face.

"I-I don't care, I want that chocolate!" she hissed sharply, her voice cracking and reaching a squeaky pitch in her embarrassment.

A laugh bubbled in his chest at her reaction, amusement dousing the embarrassment he would've felt from what he was doing. Her panic fueled his confidence, making it too easy to hold her close, to smirk smugly at her despite the shortening distance between their faces.

"And what will you do if I decide to take it instead?" he said, the low husk of his voice a shock to his ears, enough of a shock to make him wonder for a moment what on earth he was doing.

Her glare sharpened, her lips drawing together in a tight pout. The movement drew his gaze to her mouth, to the soft pink shine of her lip gloss that made her lips look tantalisingly sweet.

He was too close.

"You wouldn't dare!" she hissed.

He felt her words brush against his mouth, burning against his face with a rush of heat. Bede snapped out of his stupor with a sudden start, jolting a forceful step back that made Gloria almost lose her balance. He muttered something quickly about taking a bathroom break and stormed away before she could question what had happened.

He didn't stop until he was alone in the staff toilets and sank against the door, his lungs heaving for air. He pressed the back of his hand firmly against his mouth, felt the burning heat on his cheeks sizzle against his skin.

That was bad. That was close. Too close. Another moment, another second more and he might have-

He might have actually tried to-

Bede squeezed his eyes shut, thumping the back of his head against the door in exacerbation.

Arceus.

He'd been so caught up in what he was doing, in the delight in teasing her, of playing the role of a couple, that he'd almost forgotten that they were merely friends.

There's no way she would have let something like that slide, even if he'd managed to excuse it as part of the act. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he'd taken advantage of the situation to force that on her, either. Regardless of how much he yearned for it, he couldn't. It would be wrong for a thousand different reasons. It would be unfair to do that to her. His friend. He cared too much about their friendship to risk it.

Bede sighed and marched over to the sink to douse his face with cold water. His reflection stared back at him, a haze in those violet eyes that he didn't recognise, swimming with heat and deep longing.

Did… Did he really look like that in front of her?

The shock of cold water helped to calm his racing pulse, and he dried his face off with a paper towel, risking another look at his reflection to see that it'd returned to normal. He swallowed, fixed the bow around his neck and dusted his fingers over his fringe until he was satisfied.

He wasn't going to let that happen again.

-

Gloria sipped at her glass of water, waiting for the prickle of heat on her cheeks to fade. She stood to the side of the court, her back against the wall, and watched the customers enjoying their cakes and sweets with feigned interest. Her mind was elsewhere. Her heart thumped a dizzying rhythm in her chest, fueling her confusion.

She didn't understand what had happened, why Bede had practically shoved her off him when he was the one that pulled her so close in the first place. He'd been acting so smooth, teasing her with a smirk, but a single moment later he'd torn himself away.

Did he really want the chocolate that badly?  

No, that didn't feel right. Gloria sighed, taking another sip of chilled water as she slowly began to calm. Bede had startled her by taking their act as a battle couple more seriously than she had. His smiles and light touches, the way he squeezed her hand during each battle, had sent her heart racing. He'd even softened his voice when he spoke to her, calling her by the nickname the owner always used. His theatre training made his act extremely convincing, it was almost beginning to fool her. Almost made her wonder if there was some truth behind the tenderness in his smile.

She shook that thought away.

Get over yourself, Gloria, she chided. It's just an act.

She took a few deep gulps of water, trying to concentrate on something else, and caught sight of Bede heading over. Something fluttered in her chest when their eyes met across the busy cafe. She went to push off the wall, a hand raised to greet him, when one of the waitresses stepped over to him. She stopped him with a light touch on his arm, smiling sweetly. Bede's eyes flicked from Gloria to the waitress, and a knot formed in Gloria's gut. The waitress pulled him aside and the knot tightened. The trickle of laughter the waitress gave him made the knot constrict further and tighter and harder in the pit of her belly until it hurt.

Gloria watched, a wedge lodging in her throat, as the waitress led Bede to the counter and started preparing him a drink. Her gaze dropped to the floor. The wedge in her throat made it difficult to breathe, and she tightened her grip on the glass in her hands. So much for him taking their act as a battle couple seriously. She couldn't see his expression with his back to her, but she wondered if he was smiling. If he was giving the waitress the same expression he'd shown her earlier.

It made Gloria feel sick. She knew she'd been getting ahead of herself, thinking that there was anything more to Bede's smile, his actions, but the realisation hit her like a blast of frigid air.

She didn't know why she cared about that in the first place. They were friends. Why would it matter if there was something more, something deeper, to Bede's act? Why would it matter if there was a chance he held even a hint of romantic feelings towards her when she hadn't worked out what she felt towards him in return?

It was too confusing. She hated the way it made her stomach churn, the way a sickly nausea flooded her body whenever she thought about it. It made a heavy shadow fall over her heart, constricting her throat and lungs, and made her want to gag. Each breath came faster than the one before. Quicker and sharper, the pace increasing as the world went dark and grey. Monochrome. The sounds around her blended into a mess of noise.

She saw green. Gloria blinked and straightened, large red eyes peering at her. Gardevoir chimed softly, Gallade at her side, the two Pokemon sounding their concern. She looked between them, the fog over her mind beginning to shift, and forced a deep breath.

"I'm… I'm okay," she said quietly, and measured out her breathing.

A deep breath in, she held it in her chest for a few seconds before exhaling heavily. She turned her hands around the glass, focusing on the contours and how it felt against the palms of her hands, how firm the wall felt against her back. The ground was solid beneath her feet. The torrent of panic, the surge of emotions in her blood, began to ease. She could think again.

"Are you having a strategy meeting without me?" Bede's voice cut through the lingering haze in her mind. He stepped over, a takeaway cup in his hand. A faint knot in her gut remained.

"Maybe." Gloria's gaze fixed on the takeaway cup as Bede took a slow sip. "I was going to let you join in but it looks like you're already getting special treatment from someone else."

She raised an eyebrow pointedly.

Bede lowered the cup. "Oh, this? One of the staff made it for me. I was under the impression you'd gotten one too."

Gloria twisted her lips into a pout. "Well, you're wrong. All I got is water." She gestured with the empty glass in her hands.

Bede glanced over his shoulder, the waitress in question already looking his way, and she gave him a cheery wave. Gloria grimaced sourly.

"Looks like you've got a fan," she said, sounding disinterested. "I think she's forgotten that you and I are meant to be a battle couple right now."

"She was just being friendly. I'm sure someone would make you a drink if you asked."

Gloria rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to ask." She reached out towards Bede, making grabby-hands at his drink. "Gimme some of yours."

Bede blinked at her. "No. This is mine, go get your own."

"Aw, come on! You're not going to let your beloved girlfriend have a sip?"

His eyes blew wide, mouth dropping open, and Gloria seized the chance to snatch Bede's drink off him.

"Haha!" she cheered, twirling a step away from him, and lifted the cup to her lips.

"Gloria, wait-!" Bede squawked a protest that Gloria ignored, humming in delight at the soothingly warm coffee.

"Too late!" she sang, smirking at him, and almost choked on the drink at the look on his face. "Wh-What? It's just coffee!"

His eyes were wide. He stared at her with a streak of red high on his cheeks, his hand frozen in the air in a failed attempt to steal back his cup.

"I… had already drunk from it," Bede said, snatching his hand back to his side. His wide-eyed stare turned into an embarrassed frown.

Gloria tilted her head at him. "So?"

He looked at her for a moment longer before huffing. "Forget it. Are you satisfied now, or are you going to deprive me of my hard-earned coffee?"

"It's not hard-earned if you flirted to get it," she scoffed, shoving the cup at him.

"I did no such thing."

"How should I know? All I heard was her laughing." Gloria shrugged. "Anyway, our next match is due to start. Come on."

She turned and marched over to the centre of the court, Gallade and Gardevoir taking their places. Bede followed right behind her, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

"The only one I've been flirting with here is you."

Gloria sucked in a loud breath, her gasp catching high in her throat, and she slapped her hand over her ear with a stifled shriek of protest.

"D-Don't do that!" she squeaked, her ear tingling with heat.

"What, I'm not allowed to tease my beloved girlfriend?"

He smirked, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he took his place beside her. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. She regretted using that phrase instantly. The couple set to be their opponents were staring and she grumbled.

"L-Let's just begin the match."

It was harder for her to switch into gear after that.

-

After an endless stream of battles, Gloria was grateful when their next break came. As much as she enjoyed battling with Bede, being his partner, it was exhausting after a while. And not just because they were acting as a couple. The strange mix of emotions swirling inside her was draining and confusing, and she wanted it all to stop. She didn't want to think about any of it right now and wished her heart would settle for once.

She wasn't used to being so close - physically close - to someone for such a long period of time. Although Gloria was already a very physically affectionate person, especially with people she knew well, it was beginning to be a bit too much. And if she felt this way, she knew Bede had to be feeling it even worse.

Gloria just wanted to be herself, didn't want to keep forcing herself to hold Bede's hand or link arms with him. It was too weird. Too foreign to be doing this with him when they were just friends, too strange to do it over and over again as the hours progressed. She felt so fake. Her hands were clammy and she wiped them on the front of her apron for what felt like the thousandth time.

Rather than holding hands, rather than having Bede's arm looped around her waist or back, she wanted a hug. She would much rather hug him where no one could see, with no people, no witnesses, no pretending. A long hug between friends that she could trust was genuine. A hug where she could bury her face in his shoulder and feel the warmth and pressure of his body against hers.

Gloria sighed heavily, slumping over the table in the staff room. The peace and quiet was heavenly, but she knew it couldn't last. They were due for their final round of battles. She had to go out there and face the heat once more.

The faint murmur of voices outside grew louder, and Gloria sat up as the staff room door flew open and a guy she recognised strode inside.

"Paul?!" Gloria gaped. "What are you doing here? Where were you this morning?"

"Sorry, Glo - if I'd known Vicki had called in sick and you were her replacement, I would've been here!" he chuckled as Bede walked in behind him, frowning. "I can't stand that girl. She's nowhere near as cute as you."

Gloria clenched her jaw and stood, fighting the look of disgust off her face. "Well, you're a bit late. Bede's been my partner all day. We can't just switch now."

"Who, him?" Paul scoffed, glancing unimpressed at Bede. "Come on, Glo. You can't seriously be choosing him over me."

"Well, I am. You can't skip out on your job, forcing us to find a replacement at the last minute, then rock up almost an hour before closing and expect us to welcome you back with open arms."

"Aw, don't be like that, Glo! You know what Vicki's like. Can you really blame me for ditching her?" Paul laughed. "I mean, how'd she even get a job here with a face like that in the first place?"

The mask on Gloria's face shattered into a searing glare. "Victoria is my friend," she said, her words sharp and hard, enunciated slowly and clearly as she stepped over to Paul. "And she deserves better than to be paired up with gutter scum like you."

Paul paled as Gloria drew up to him, venom dripping from her voice.

"And if you don't get out of here right now, they'll be scraping you off the battle court when I'm done with you."

She turned and grabbed Bede's arm, dragging him with her. She stormed out of the staff room, past the owner who looked on, his face white as a sheet. She didn't stop until she'd marched all the way to the battle court, a molten blaze glowing white hot in her eyes.

"Oh, Glori, I'll deal with Paul!" the owner said quickly, scurrying over. "He was already on thin ice and insulting another member of staff like that- that's the final straw!"

Gloria sighed, releasing Bede's arm as her anger settled. "Good."

The owner glanced between her and Bede for a moment before nodding quickly and sheepishly. She felt Bede's gaze on her as the owner left.

"So. That was Paul," Bede said slowly. "The guy who was meant to be your partner this morning."

Gloria made a noise of disgust in her throat. "I knew he could be... unpleasant at times, but I didn't know he was like that." She shuddered with a grimace.

"He called you 'Glo.'"

Her bottom lip curled like she'd tasted something sour. "Don't. Please, don't. He gives all the female staff nicknames whether they like it or not. I'd run into him enough times that he decided to give me one too. I just hate the way he says it." She shivered again, her skin crawling. "I only like it when Hop calls me that. And when the owner calls me 'Glori.'"

"Hop calls you 'Glo?'"

"Yeah, sometimes. Why?"

Bede looked away, his gaze wandering elsewhere. "I've never heard him call you that."

"Like I said, he only uses it sometimes. I like it. Makes me feel… I don't know. Precious, I guess." She smiled softly, remembering the way it sounded in Hop's voice, the way he'd grin at her, his hands interlocking behind his head.

"Well then, Glo," Bede said, offering his arm to Gloria. "Shall we begin our next match?"

Her heart caught. There was something about the way he said it, the way the nickname rolled off his tongue so easily and so softly, that made her freeze for a moment. A challenge sparkled in his eyes, a teasing quirk flashed in his smile. She took his arm as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and they stepped onto the court, arm-in-arm.

-

Gloria let out an undignified cheer, Gallade delivering the finishing blow in their final match, andtand opponents threw their hands up in defeat.

"We did it!" she cried, bouncing on her toes.

The rush of battle and the exhilaration of winning surged through her with a burst of jubilation, and she launched herself at Bede without thinking. Her arms thrown around his neck, Gloria embraced him tightly and nuzzled her head into his neck. A bright laugh trickled from her chest as she swayed in his arms.

"We really did it!" she sighed happily.

Bede's arms, wrapped around her back, pulled her against him with a firm squeeze. She suddenly realised what she was doing when his gentle laughter tickled her ear.

"Careful now, Glo. I'd rather not end today with you toppling us over."

She shot away from him in an instant, yanking herself out of his arms.

"S-Sorry!" she squeaked. "I was- just- uh, happy we won and I-"

She glanced around them to see customers chuckling and smiling at her antics. Even the owner was smiling, knowingly, at her from behind the counter. Everyone had seen it. There was too much air in her lungs, she felt giddy and dizzy and marched over to Gallade, mumbling something about checking him over.

Arceus, what was she doing? Hugging him like that in front of everyone?  

She needed to calm down and collect herself before she did something stupid again. The adrenaline rush from the battle had yet to ease, her heart pounding away in her chest as though the match was still ongoing. She focused on Gallade, on tending to his light injuries and praising him, and soon enough she began to relax.

"Congratulations, Glori!" the owner said, smiling cheerfully at her and Bede. "The hamper is all yours."

"Yes!" Gloria couldn't contain her glee, pumping her fist into the air.

"I've never seen such fine battling in my cafe in all the years I've run it," the owner said. "Why, you might even be strong enough to beat the Champion!"

Gloria's smile fractured infinitesimally, and she laughed sheepishly to cover it up. Bede was staring at her incredulously. "Aw, come on. I'm nowhere near that level."

"If you ever change your mind, just know I'll be cheering you on!"

"Thanks."

"That reminds me," the owner continued, "if you two are still together next year, I'd love to have you back for both our Valentine's Day and White Day events!"

"Still together?" Bede repeated, his words hanging in the air a moment too long.

Gloria's cheeks began to burn.

"Oh, are you two not a couple?"

Bede cleared his throat. "No, we're not."

"Ah, my apologies then! You two were so perfectly in sync that I just assumed… Your act was so good you had me fooled!" he laughed, too loudly and too brightly. Gloria stared hard at the floor. "That works for me too! Let me know if you'd like to do it again - thanks to this year's turnout, we'll have even better prizes next time!"

"Th-Thanks." Gloria ducked her head and turned towards the staff room. "I-I'll go get changed then."

"Wait, Gloria."

She stilled and glanced over her shoulder at Bede, worrying her lips together at the pitter-patter of her heart.

"Will you wait for me outside?"

That was it. No explanation, no reason, nothing to elucidate the depth of his violet eyes.

"Okay," she said quietly, and fled to the staff room.

The pitter-patter of her heart became a crescendo of thunder in her ears. The strength in her legs went all of a sudden and she staggered over to the table, grabbing onto it for support.

Will you wait for me outside?

His words echoed in her ears and her stomach swirled. Had she done something wrong? Was this about the hug earlier? Or was this still about the chocolate, and he hadn't forgotten that she wanted it too?

His gaze had been serious. Focused and determined, and a thrum of apprehension bled through her veins. She couldn't think, her mind clouded with trepidation, and yanked off her shirt for the second time after putting it on inside-out and then back-to-front. She huffed at the offending shirt, making sure she wore it correctly this time. She needed to calm down. It was just Bede. It was probably nothing serious.

The skittering of unease in her chest said otherwise.

-

After getting change and collecting the hamper, Gloria sat outside on a bench in front of the cafe and waited for Bede. Each minute that passed made her heart beat harder and faster, nausea rising in her throat. She tried to distract herself with the contents of the hamper, her legs bouncing anxiously. Bede strode out of the cafe doors, bag slung over a shoulder, and walked over.

"Thanks for waiting," he said and Gloria forced a smile.

"No problem!" her words came out too tight, too high pitched. "Should we decide who gets what? I know I said I called dibs on the bath bombs but the chocolate…"

"I was kidding about the chocolate."

She blinked at him as he came over, standing in front of the hamper to study the contents.

"You what?"

He gave her a momentary smirk. "I wasn't serious about wanting it. Chocolate's all yours."

Gloria huffed. "Come on! I thought I was gonna have to fight you for it!"

The short, quiet breath of laughter he gave in response warmed her heart and she swallowed.

"A-Anyway, let's just open it. Do you want the basket? Because I can probably fit the stuff I want in my bag." She tore off the clear plastic covering, scrunching it up and tossing it in the bin beside her. "Ooh, there's some nice stuff in here! See anything you want?"

"This wine is good quality," he said, studying one of the bottles. "There are a few recipes I've been meaning to try that require white wine."

"Great, they're all yours then! I'm not old enough to drink anyway, and my Mum only likes red."

Gloria fished out the white, glittery bath bombs, sticking them in her bag along with the box of white chocolate. She picked up the scented candle.

"Ooh, white vanilla. I think I know how I'm gonna treat myself tonight. Bath bombs, chocolate, scented candle… who needs a date when I've got all this!" She laughed, stashing the candle.

"Were you after a date?"

Her heart skipped. "Oh, um, no, not really. Especially after today!" Her laughter became sheepish. "I was just, you know, thinking about all the couples that came in today. I don't need something like that when I can treat myself."

She stared at the hamper as her cheeks flushed darkly. She hadn't expected Bede to respond to her comment.

"Oh, there's white tea in here too! Ms Opal might like that!"

Gloria passed the packet to Bede, the tips of her fingers brushing his as he took it. That slight touch made her fingertips tingle.

"I don't believe she has this kind. Thanks." Bede placed it to the side with the wine.

They sorted through the rest of the items until the basket was empty and Bede refilled it with the stuff he'd chosen. Gloria hefted her bag experimentally, finding it much heavier than before.

"I'm glad I'm taking a Sky Taxi home," she laughed and stood. "I wouldn't get far with this." She glanced down the street, where she knew she'd find a waiting Sky Taxi in no time.

"Gloria."

She turned, her eyes drawn to the small white box in Bede's hand. His outstretched hand. Towards her. She flicked her eyes between his and the box.

"Is… is this…?"

"It's your White Day gift. In return for Valentine's Day."

Gloria wondered if it was the sunset behind her that was casting the warm glow on Bede's cheeks. She tentatively took the box off him, staring down at it in awe.

"Can I…?"

She was breathless.

Bede nodded. "Go ahead, open it. It's yours."

She fumbled with the gorgeous silk ribbon for a few seconds before managing to tug it free and popped the lid off with a gasp. A delicate silver bracelet set with tiny stars sat inside the box. She picked it up, her lungs filling with a flood of air as the stars twinkled in the light, dazzling and sparkling a bright pink.

"This…! It's…!" She didn't have the words. "Bede, it's gorgeous!" She turned the bracelet this way and that in her hand, captivated by the way it sparkled. Then it struck her. "Wait, how much did this cost? It- It looks expensive! I-I can't accept this!"

"You already did," Bede said, folding his arms.

"Please tell me it's not expensive! These aren't real diamonds or anything, right?" He said nothing. "Right?"

The corner of his lips lifted into the faintest smile. "My lips are sealed. Hopefully you realise it's not considered polite to ask how much a gift costs."

"But…!" She stared at the stunning bracelet, her heart torn.

"If you don't want it, there's a bin right there."

She gasped in horror. "No, I do want it! I just… I mean, it's so gorgeous… won't it look weird if someone like me wears it?"

"You're thinking too much about it. It's a bracelet, Gloria, not a crown."

A giddy smile twitched on her lips. "I-I'm gonna wear it now!" She put the box aside and unclasped the bracelet, sitting it against her wrist before struggling to get the two ends to meet with one hand.

"Here, allow me."

Bede stepped close, taking her wrist gently in his hand. He quickly clasped the bracelet around her wrist, the touch of his fingers, his hands, filling her with warmth.

"Thanks," she said quietly. Her gaze fixed on the bracelet. She turned her wrist, smiling at the twinkling light. "It's beautiful."

Somehow, her gaze drifted up to meet his, her heart swelling and filling with something she couldn't name. He hadn't yet stepped away, the air around them strangely light and warm. An urge, a sudden desire that tugged on her heart, that tugged her towards him, came out of nowhere and she acted on impulse. Gloria rose up on her toes, catching the way Bede's eyes widened, so close to hers, and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you, Bede," she whispered by his ear. Her hands lingered on his shoulders, having settled there for balance, and she drew back with a dainty step. "I'll… see you later!"

Gloria swiped her bag, and the jewelry box, off the bench, unable to meet Bede's eyes. She gave him a stiff, parting wave and hurried around him down the street. Her heart thundered in her ears.

She didn't see the way Bede had stared at her in that moment, when she'd let her words grace his ear, when she'd lingered close for what couldn't have been more than a second. She didn't see the blazing heat on his cheeks. She didn't see his mouth drop open in a gasp or the way he'd reached for her when she stepped back. She didn't see the way his gaze followed her all the way down the street until she vanished around a corner.

She didn't see the faint smile on his lips or the adoration in his eyes. She didn't see the obvious, the damnably, achingly obvious love for her on his face.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Not What It’s Cracked Up To Be ch.1 (baon)

Summary: Edge and Stretch are finally getting back on an even keel. Edge's broken leg is healing well, Spring is finally here and the flowers are close to blooming.

Be a shame if anything disturbed their domestic bliss.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Fluff, Chickens

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Read it on AO3

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Read it here!

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Stretch had always liked taking a walk on the science side. Even when he was a kid, he’d loved it, digging soggy books out of the dump that no one else wanted about exotic things like physics. Yeah, sure, he’d taken a detour for a little while in his life, spent some time as a sentry in Snowdin, but here in the Aboveground, he’d gotten back into it, reluctantly at first and then with the same enthusiasm he’d had in his striped shirt days. He loved science and experiments, coming up with theories and either proving them or setting them in the ‘learning experience’ pile.

Confirming a hypothesis, that was what he did, but even he had to admit, this was one he could've lived without. But hey, now he had empirical evidence to explain why he was never double-dog-dare ever taking Edge on the bus again.

It hadn't even been his idea. Everyone with a driver’s license was busy today so there was no one to cadge a ride from. Didn’t help that Edge wasn’t exactly great on the passenger side anyway, he took backseat driving to new and historic levels. Even Andy started getting a weird tic in his cheek the last time he gave them a lift and in the interest of not giving his best bud a stroke, when Edge suggested they take the bus to his doc’s appointment, Stretch went along with it.

Yeeeah. He’d made worse choices in his life, but this was hovering right at entering the top ten.

To begin with, it seemed like that when he made the suggestion, Edge didn’t fully realize it would require sitting on a grubby seat inhabited daily by dozens of other butts, something Stretch’s personal neat freak was not keen on exposing to his own pelvis.

But there was no way he could stand with the cast holding his leg together, that was kinda the reason they weren’t taking Edge’s car. Probably the only thing that could make the seats actually tolerable for Edge was a good power washing, but Stretch did the best he could with the baggie of antiseptic wipes he’d stashed in his backpack. That at least got Edge's nonexistent butt in the chair, even if he sat so close to the (heh) edge that one hairpin turn was gonna send him rolling across the floor.

If the universe were kinder, that probably would have been the worst of it. Stretch sat right next to his baby and held his hand for moral support, the bus route took them right past the hospital so there wasn't even a changeover. All they needed to do was sit quietly and get off at their stop. Stretch did it all the time, all by his lonesome. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

Only, fate seemed to be in the mood for a different kind of citrus, choosing the path of difficult difficult lemon bullshit because they’d only been sitting for about five minutes when an older Human lady got on. She shuffled on over to sit right next to Edge even though there were a dozen other seats available on the bus and before the bus even pulled away, she’d started talking to him. And talked. And never actually stopped talking.

Blue once told Stretch, fondly and with only a sprinkle of salt, that when Stretch got going, he talked like he was trying to qualify for the chatter Olympics. This lady not only qualified, she’d swept away the competition and gone home with the gold.

To be fair, it was miles better than her screaming and tossing a shoe at their heads, sure, but Edge usually took a while to warm up to people as it was, especially to Humans. Considering that some Humans took one look at Edge coming their way and crossed the street? That kind didn't look at him as a person with feelings who could see them, thanks, even if Edge would never admit how much that fucking hurt, and sorry, did he say Humans? He meant assholes. Assholes saw Edge as a threat before they ever even met him.

Betty White over there wasn't at all put off by the sharp teeth and the crimson eye lights. She'd found a captive audience and watching his baby struggling to be polite while she chatted about her newest grandbaby, complete with actual photos scrounged out of her handbag, was setting off the cringe meter, big time.

About ten endless minutes in she’d shown no sign of losing steam. Stretch did make an attempt to help. His thinking was that if he moved to sit on Grandma Moses's other side, maybe she'd chat with him instead. He was pretty good at oohing and ahhing over pics of the potato babies. But the second he tried to stand, Edge's hold on his hand tightened like an iron claw, hard enough for him to feel the pinch of his sharpened fingertips even through gloves. Whether he was afraid Stretch was going to abandon him to his fate or didn't like the idea of him sitting next to unknown Humans, Stretch wasn't sure, but he wasn’t gonna argue with The Claw.

He sat back down and leaned against Edge instead, like maybe he could osmosis some soothing vibes his way. Never worked before, but hey, it was worth a shot.

Whistler’s Mom paused. “are you two boys…together?”

“Yes,” Edge said shortly. Stretch struggled not to wince as the grip on his hand dug in. The last thing he wanted was another bus fiasco. For starters, Andy wasn’t here this time to play white knight and he seriously doubted the Embassy would appreciate dealing with an all new public relations nightmare involving Edge getting into a street fight with an octogenarian.

So, Stretch put on his very best hundred-watt smile and leaned around his husband to shine it towards the old lady. “yes, ma’am, we’re married.”

He expected maybe a little outrage; he and Edge pretty obviously identified as male and Humans could be, ah, tetchy about that. Enough offense and maybe she’d go move to sit up at the front of the bus. But Queen Elizabeth over there just beamed happily, clasping her hands to her chest. “Isn’t that nice! You two make a lovely couple, aren’t your rings beautiful! Have you been together long? Ah, you’re newlyweds, aren’t you, I can tell!”

Next to him, the tension was slowly draining out of Edge, his kung fu grip loosening. Stretch lowered the wattage on his smile to merely friendly levels and asked, “how’s that, ma’am?”

She gave them a watery-eyed wink, “To begin with, you’re still holding hands.”

That was about all it took to tenderize Edge’s steak. He still didn’t chat, but he didn’t look like he was about to throw himself out of a window at any given moment, piece by piece if necessary, and that was a hell of an improvement.

By the time they’d gotten off the bus, Beatrice had shared a recipe for strudel that Edge promised to try and Stretch somehow ended up wearing a new knitted hat topped with a bright pink pompom, because in the words of the immortal Beatrice, he was too skinny and he might catch cold in the bright spring weather. He had a feeling if she could’ve smuggled him home in her handbag, he’d be holed up right now in a cozy kitchen mainlining soup made with fresh noodles and no amount of protesting that skeletons kinda couldn’t get fattened up would save him.

“see, babe,” Stretch teased, handing over his crutches once Edge made it down the stairs back to earth. He waited until the bus was out of sight, taking Beatrice with it, before taking off the hat and adding it to his backpack stash. “take the bus a few more times and pretty soon you’ll have as many friends as i do.”

“I’d rather strip naked and run a marathon through a pack of hungry dogs,” Edge told him feelingly.

Yeah, okay, that one made Stretch burst out into unexpected laughter. He was still chuckling as they headed into the doctor’s office. “i swear, babe, no one ever believes me when i tell them you’re hilarious.”

“That wasn’t humor,” Edge said dryly as he crutched along, “that was a promise.”

The appointment itself was the usual doctor bullshit, starting with an endless fifteen-minute wait before the doc even came in the room, long enough for Stretch to inspect every drawer and jar in the room before Edge told him to sit down. Which, yeah, okay, it was his appointment and fidgeting around the room probably wasn’t doing much for any anxiety Edge had.

Not that he looked like he had much and Stretch honestly envied Edge’s ability to seem coolly serene in any given situation. It was less appealing that the skill made it impossible for Stretch to know if he was genuinely relaxed or hiding it from the world, but eh, that much he was used to. He could read his baby like a well-loved book, but damn if the cover wasn’t inscrutable some days.

By the time the doc came in, Stretch was ready to vibrate out of his damn shoes, but he kept his trap shut and let the doctor do his job. Highly trained professionals, he’d told Edge, who knew what they were doing, and Stretch could do healing magic but that was his limit. The fine tuning was up to the guys with the stethoscopes.

So he played on his phone, messed around on twitter, kept one suspicious auditory canal tuned in to make sure that the doc didn’t have any strong opinions on how Edge was healing up. In less time than they’d spent waiting, the cast was removed, cut right through the drawing of Undyne flexing, and the doc was checking the bones out, making positive little sounds as he poked and prodded.

That got his reluctant curiosity going and left him torn between getting a look at what he hadn’t yet seen or waiting a little longer for the scars to fade.

He hadn’t chosen a side by the time Edge decided for him, “It’s fine, love, have a look if you want.”

The doc obligingly stepped back and let him take a peek at what the cast was hiding. Even if the freshly healed breaks weren’t still chalky-rough, he would have been able to pick them out of a line up. He knew every scar on Edge’s bones, knew how they felt beneath his fingers, knew which ones were sensitive and which had little feeling to them at all.

Edge was right, they weren’t bad, all things considered. Tori must’ve poured on the healing because the scars weren’t much more than hairline fractures. A lot of hairline fractures, too many, and Stretch blinked hard, turning away to flump back into his chair. Way too many fucking scars, his leg must’ve been…it must’ve…

He probably wasn’t hiding his upset very well, his poker face wasn’t up to standards these days, because the doctor said, gently, “He’s healing very well. A few more weeks and he should be able to resume his normal routine.”

They both seemed to be waiting for some kind of answer from him, so Stretch slumped back into his chair and muttered, “that’s good.”

He pulled out his lighter, flicking it absently through his fingers, listening to the rhythmic clicking of metal against bone as the doc stepped up again.

Pretty quickly Edge was Velcro-ed into a sort of boot that went up to his knee and sternly told not to stand more than two hours at a time, ice it at night, yadda yadda, it was all on the instruction sheet. He went from crutches to a cane and they’d be sending him one of those knee scooters for when he went back to the Embassy. That was a photo opportunity waiting to happen.

The ride home was a lot less eventful. The only other person on the bus for most of the trip was a Human that Stretch only knew in passing and they were eating a sandwich so aggressively that Stretch was afraid to get too close, lest he get sucked into the chomping vacuum.

Edge didn’t talk and Stretch kept busy on his phone, ignoring the quiet of the bus around them. Stretch usually wore headphones when he rode the bus, he had about fifty different podcasts he listened to and Cabinet of Curiosities just released a new one today. He didn’t feel like listening right now though and if anyone told him an hour ago he’d be missing Beatrice’s chatter, he’d have told them to retune their Ouija board.

The only real transfer was from the bus proper to the New New Home shuttle and they were the only Monsters on it except for the driver.

“hey, angela, you know why you’re the best driver?” Stretch asked cheerfully when they got to the stop. He didn’t wait for her to answer. “it’s ‘cause you’re so good at telling people where to get off!”

Angela rolled her eye, “Sans told me that one last week.”

“of course he would,” Stretch sighed, “sans is never short for time when it comes to a joke.” That one got him a chuckle from Angela and a sigh from Edge as she shooed them out the doors. Before he could take so much as a step towards home, Edge had him by the arm, tugging him over to sit on the nearby bench.

“wha…you okay?” Stretch blurted. The anxiety that was slowly easing ramped it back up to high. As far as he saw, Edge was walking pretty well with his new gear, but maybe— “is it hurting, do you need to rest a minute? i can call the doc, hang on…”

Edge gently stopped him from scrambling for his phone, shaking his head. “I’m fine, love. I’m more concerned about whether you’re okay.”

It would’ve been easy to tell him yep, sure, 100%, doing great. Dig up another 100-watt smile out of his reserves in a lie that Edge wouldn’t believe. Instead, he slumped, leaning against Edge’s side and letting his skull drop on his shoulder. “can’t fool you, huh.”

“I don’t want you to fool me,” Edge told him. He reached up, his gloved fingers gentle against Stretch’s cheek bone, his jaw line. “I want to know when you’re upset. Even if I can’t really help, I at least want to know.”

Stretch sighed heavily. “i’m okay. no, really,” he insisted when Edge made a skeptical sound. “i’m just…i don’t like to see you hurt.”

Edge shifted and there was the light touch of a kiss being pressed to his skull. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t really like being hurt. I’ve been injured in the past, you know that, but this is my first experience at being off my feet for so long and I hate it,” Edge said, frankly. “I don’t like not being able to go through my normal routine, whether it’s my work at the Embassy or simply baking bread, I don’t like being—” he hesitated, then, softer, “vulnerable. I don’t like feeling as if I can’t keep you safe.”

The last was said at a mere whisper, a confession Stretch hadn’t expected, and he sat up, wrapping both arms around Edge and held him tight. They sat like that for a while, arms around each other with spring sunshine pouring down over them and Stretch loved him, so, so damn much.

He could hear someone walking up the street, probably heading to wait for the shuttle, and Stretch reluctantly drew back, pausing to press a light kiss against Edge’s cheek bone. “welp, you’re a couple steps further along in getting back on your feet, anyway. what’re you gonna do first?”

He was kinda expecting a shower. Edge never complained but it was hard not to notice that he didn’t enjoy wrapping up in plastic like last night’s leftovers. But Edge was packed with the unexpected today so Stretch was a little surprised when he said, “I’d like to work on my garden. Spring planting isn’t for a little while yet, but my perennials will be coming up and I need to clean out the winter detritus.”

Yeah, okay, that sort of made sense. May as well get as dirty as possible before hitting the suds. They made their way back to the house, a little slower than Stretch’s preferred pace but not by much. Stretch went in the house and aside from Edge taking him on a quick field trip outside for an informational lecture on the different flowers that were already starting to spring out of the ground, he left his honey to get to the gardening. And if he was keeping an eye on the clock to make sure Edge didn’t go over the two-hour mark, eh, Edge said from the start he was going to follow the doctor’s orders. Stretch was only helping him keep a promise.

It was closing in on an hour-fifty when the unexpected knock came from the front door. That had Stretch curious; Edge was in the front yard, any visitors would be bypassing him, so who would be coming specifically to see Stretch?

Welp. There was only one way to find out.

Read Chapter Two

[yesloverboy]

Punk Rock Girl, Please Look at Me (mgk!Tommy Lee x Reader)

Requested: @angelfuzzy2 

“Oh well it could kinda be a one shot , But I do have one , where Tommy Meets the reader , like early on in his life , looses her (like lost track of her) later to find out she’s a famous singer and tommy meets her again , at her concert or they meet at a party again and reconnect , but the rest of the band don’t know the reader is like seriously famous yet , just Tommy , but the band finds out later”

Note: Thank you all for your patience! I loved writing this request so much, so let me know if y’all would like to see sequel. As always, I know I’ve been a super slow writer because of my new job, but feel free to send me more requests! They’re pretty much always open, and I’m more than willing to write for the other Crüe boys. :) 

Edit: also props to anyone who knows where I got the title from. 

word count: 5,632

[Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, misogyny, swearing, drug & alcohol mention/usage, mild injuries, and two pining idiots]

 The stage lights are blinding as the last note of the song plays out, the sound of guitar feedback drowning out the roar of the crowd beneath you. You breathe hard, sweat dripping from your hair as a broad smile stretches across your face. This is what you loved most in the world– playing music in front of dozens of your supporting fans. When you sang, they sang every word right back to you. No feeling in the world could ever replace that. You and your band Vertigo are on the verge of a big break, and these are the people that helped get you there. 

 As you step off the stage, your manager Scott immediately rushes to your side with a towel and a water bottle in hand. You accept both, pouring the water onto your head and shaking off like a dog. Scott raises his hands in an effort to shield himself, but ends up showered with water anyways. You roll your eyes, not knowing what the big deal is. It’s your final show of the tour, he should be used to it by now.

 “Hey, Y/N!” Scott calls as you move past him to go to the green room, “There’s a guy out by the bar that’s been bugging all night to see you.” 

 You turn on your heel to face Scott, eyebrow raised in confusion, “What guy?”

 Scott shrugs, “Says his name is Tommy Lee.”

 Tommy Lee, your mind reels at the sound of his name. A flash of memories flood your head, all of which playing visions of your childhood. Tommy had been your first friend when you moved to California in the third grade, and ended up being your last when you moved away in high school. All these years, you can’t believe that he would remember you, let alone recognize you.

 You give your bandmates a quick heads up, and amble out to the bar area in search of Tommy. Surprisingly, you feel nervous for the first time in years. You aren’t sure what he looks like or what he’s up to these days– and there is always the chance that he wouldn’t take a girl in a band seriously. That happens a lot more than you’d like to admit.

 Luckily, you don’t have to search for long before a loud voice calls to you from the end of the bar.

 “Y/N! Hey, over here!”

 You look over and are caught breathless by the sight of a tall stranger with long, brown hair waving enthusiastically in your direction. He definitely looks different from how you remember, but the smile he’s giving you is just the same. Back in the day, you knew Tommy was a cute kid, but you never imagined he would turn out to look quite this handsome. He’s tall, lean, and completely rocking a pair of tight, leather pants.

 Walking over, you muss your hair into some semblance of order and wipe at the remaining eyeliner running from the corners of your eyes. You are fully aware of how much of a mess you look. It’s a part of your thing. Smeared lipstick, melted eyeliner, and ripped jeans are basically your work uniform. Music executives and your fans like you because of how uncaring you look. You’re like one of the guys– only hotter. The problem is, you had never once been self-conscious about it. That is, until now.

 As you nervously approach Tommy’s smiling face, you notice he has a slightly busted lip and the ghost of a black eye beginning to form. He stands up from his seat at the bar, towering over you at a surprising height.

 “Tommy, is that really you?” you ask, feeling as though you’re practically looking up into his eyes, “How in the hell did you find me?”

 “The one and only!” Tommy laughs, pulling you into a bone crushing hug. He still has a familiar smell that lingers with the cigarette smoke clinging to his hair and clothes. “I actually got kicked out of the bar across the street so I came over here,” he answers sheepishly.

 “Kicked out? Tommy what fuck–”

 “It doesn’t matter, dude, because I found you!” Tommy slaps you hard on the shoulder, his boyish grin still persisting, “Your band fucking rocks, by the way. When did you learn to sing like that?”

 “Oh, um, I guess when I moved away? I didn’t have many friends so I turned to music instead,” you reply, face feeling hot from the sound of Tommy’s praises, “Obviously, it’s more complicated than that, but you get the idea.”

 Tommy grabs his beer off the bar and tips it back, finishing the rest of it in one gulp, “Why don’t you tell me all about it?”

 He wipes his mouth with the back of a large hand and you feel your throat go dry. When you were younger, Tommy had been the one person you could always be yourself around. However, having him barge into your life as a hot stranger is an entirely different story.

 “Tommy, I don’t know, man. My band is probably gonna come looking for me.”

 “Let ‘em. Remember the old diner at the end of the block? It’ll be just like old times,” Tommy looks at you with pleading, blue eyes, reminding you of the first time you met him on the playground all those years ago. “Besides, my band might just be looking for me, too.”

 “Aw, fuck it,” you relent, trying your best to conceal the smile on your face. Needless to say, it’s a losing battle.

...

 You and Tommy end up staying at the diner until closing, exchanging old memories over a shared platter of blueberry pancakes and a chocolate shake. As it fate would have it, the two of you still have just as much in common as you did when you were kids. Maybe even more.  

 It absolutely delighted you to find out that Tommy is still playing the drums– only this time it’s for a band of his very own. He told you that he even found a friend from high school to join Mötley Crüe, but he and Tommy had apparently met long after you’d already left. Vince was his name and, although he sounds like a bit of a diva, Tommy insisted that you’ll like him. Then again, Tommy likes everyone.

 Eventually, you’d even gotten around to telling Tommy all about Vertigo and how you had already amassed a large following on the East Coast. When the band’s single got played on a radio station in the UK, that was the moment you all decided to take things to the next level. The only piece of the puzzle that seemed to be missing was the West Coast, which gave you the perfect excuse to end the tour in L.A. and relocate.

 “Wait, so you’re back for good?” Tommy had asked, eyes hopeful as he nearly bounced out of his seat.

 “For now,” you smiled, knowing that you couldn’t totally be sure. Your chest tightened as you found a small part of yourself wanting to say yes instead.

 In your life, you had never been the kind of person who thought they needed to be completed by anyone else. You’re independent– a stand alone personality and the hero of your own story. However, something about seeing Tommy again brought your attention to an emptiness in your heart that you never knew existed. It didn’t make any sense. Being in the band meant you were around guys all day, and not a single one made you take so much as a second glance.

 Now, as you and Tommy step out of the vacant diner and onto the strip, you catch yourself staring as the neon lights shift and dance across his face. Much like when you were kids, Tommy’s resting face was one of a perpetual smile– even with a black eye and a busted lip.

 “Hey dude,” Tommy stops suddenly, shaking you out of your trance, “you should totally come meet the band!”

 “Are they nearby?” you ask, eyebrows raised as you scan the droves of people clamouring along the strip.

 Tommy scoffs, “Where do you think I was with before I found your sorry ass?”

 You giggle at his teasing tone and ram your body into his, nearly crowding Tommy off of the sidewalk and into the busy street.

 “Better watch yourself Bass, or Mötley Crüe might end up needing a new drummer,” you bait as Tommy catches his balance, teetering on a single foot back to the safety of the sidewalk. “Since when did you start going by Lee, anyways?

 “Since it sounded so much cooler,” he grins, throwing his long arm over your shoulders and around your neck as the two of you walk onward.

 “Cool? When have you ever been cool?”

 Tommy glances down at you, knitting his brows together and pursing his lips in exaggeration. “Now that I think about it, right around when you left. Your nerd juice must have stopped rubbing off on me.”

 “Shut the fuck up, loser,” you groan in frustration. Although you sound annoyed, you still lean into his side, maybe getting a little bit cozier than you ought to. To your satisfaction, Tommy hums contently and holds onto you just a little bit tighter. At this point in your lives, you and Tommy should have so many degrees of separation between the two of you that it would be impossible to connect again. Yet, here you are. Walking side by side, as if your feet had been stepping in sync with his for all those empty years in between. You wonder if he can feel it, too.

 After walking a few blocks, you and Tommy stroll up towards a broken-down dive bar teeming with people. Judging by the leather clad kids in patched jackets and paramilitary boots, it is definitely the kind of punk scene you were comfortable in. Tommy’s pretty-boy appearance causes him to stand out a little, but his attitude makes up for it tenfold.

 As you approach the bar, Tommy leads right up to a couple of young guys knocking back a row of shots. A third, more mature-looking man watches them from a barstool, disdain visible even from behind the dark sunglasses over his eyes. The man in the sunglasses notices the two of you walking up together and pulls down his shades to reveal a pair of cold, blue eyes.

 “Drummer,” the man nods, “and friend.” Despite the room’s warmth from the summer heat, the iciness in the man’s stare makes you shiver involuntarily.

 “What’s up fuckers!” Tommy exclaims, slapping the two younger guys on the back excitedly. The taller of the two spins around first, his mane of fluffy black hair sticking up wildly in all directions.

 “Hey T-bone! Where the fuck have you been? Nice shiner, by the way,” his face twists into a mischievous smile as his green eyes land on you, “And who do we have here?”

 “Oh yeah! Nikki, this is Y/N. She was, like, my best friend when we were kids. I just found her at a show a little bit ago.”

 Nikki nudges the guy at his side, blonde hair and skin-tight tank top making you recognize him as Vince from yours and Tommy’s high school. You never actually got the chance to meet him before you moved away, but Tommy’s description of him being a diva seems pretty spot-on.

 “Hey, Vinnie, check out T-bone’s best friend,” you frown at the patronizing lilt in Nikki’s voice, but decide to let it slide for now.

 Vince grabs a beer off of the bar, taking a thoughtful swig while he studies you. “Well, well, well– it looks like Tommy’s found himself another one already.”

 “Another one, what?” you snap, unable to control your flush of anger.

 From what you could remember, Tommy may have been girl-crazy– and a little stupid sometimes –but he was never as arrogant and mean-spirited as the two guys in front of you seem to be coming across. It’s clear to you, even now, that Tommy is still a kid at heart, but his friends were ready to be rockstars down to their very core.

 Vince takes a reflexive step back from you, and you smirk with satisfaction. “Uh, nothing,” he flounders, eyes darting between Nikki and Tommy anxiously. From his seat at the bar, you can hear the man in the sunglasses chuckle.

 Vince throws his beer in the man’s direction and misses, the bottle clattering noisily to the floor without breaking. “Shut the fuck up, Mick,” Vince’s clearly bruised ego almosts gets a laugh out of you.

 “Chill out, dude,” Nikki purs, stepping directly past Tommy and into your personal space, “you don’t have to explain anything to us– we get it.”

 Tommy tries to wedge himself between you and Nikki, doing his best to intervene before things can escalate any further. Your teeth are gritted, firmly locking your jaw in an expression of restrained anger. More than anything, you want to wipe Nikki’s smug smile right off of his face. Nikki might be nearly as tall as Tommy, but you refuse to be intimidated.

 The only thing stopping you is knowing that giving Nikki a fight would only cause more problems than it could solve. Even then, when you first agreed to be the frontwoman of Vertigo, you promised yourself that you would hold your own with the band guys without ever becoming like any of them. You aren’t about to let some amateur punk change that.

 “Dudes, calm down! Y/N is one of my oldest friends, and I swear it’s not like that!”

 “Whatever you say, T-bone,” Nikki shrugs, finally backing away from you in favor of leaning up against the bar. He stands there cooly as if he wasn’t just inches away from you. It’s more than obvious that Nikki was never actually going to engage in any kind of fight– the confrontation alone is enough to get him off.

 Rolling your eyes, you return to Tommy’s side, wanting to put as much distance between yourself and his bandmates without hurting his feelings. You’re used to dealing with shitty rockstars and wannabe playboys, but since Vertigo’s newfound successes you had been dealing with it far less often.

 “Besides,” Tommy continues, talking to no one in particular as he rests a supportive hand on your shoulder, “Y/N isn’t just my friend she’s–”

 Realizing that Tommy is about to expose you as the singer of Vertigo, you quickly interrupt. Judging by the way Vince and Nikki feel about you while assuming you’re just some random girl, you decide that they don’t need to know you’re in a band. Hyper-masculine rock types tend to not take kindly to any woman that isn’t Joan Jett, and you aren’t ready to crack open that can of worms.

 “Just visiting!” you say, plastering an artificial smile across your face.

 For some reason, your reunion with Tommy makes you want to keep seeing him while you’re in town, and the only way that can happen is if you have as little attention paid to you as possible. With the band’s popularity on the East Coast, you know it won’t be long before everyone in L.A. will know your name– even the guys in Mötley Crüe.

 “Speaking of,” you turn to Tommy, blatantly disregarding the confounded expression on his face, “I think I should probably be getting back to my hotel right about now. It’s getting late.”

 “Uh yeah, sure,” Tommy blinks, “let me walk you there.”

 “Come on, man, you don’t have to do all that. It’s way too long of a walk,” you complain knowing full well that you can handle a late night stroll on your own. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. 

 “As if a short shit like you could hold your own in the big city,” Tommy’s joking voice settles your nerves. You turn to lead the way out of the bar, not bothering to say another word to the rest of Mötley Crüe.

 By the time you shove past the shuffling crowd of punks and step outside, Tommy has already caught up to you. The night is warm with a gentle breeze that tickles your face, reminding you of careless, childhood summers where your nights spent at home were few and far between. Tommy had been by your side then and, miraculously, he’s at your side now. You find yourself constantly amazed at the way so much can change, and yet stay exactly the same.

 “Sorry about all that, dude,” Tommy’s eyes are trained on the ground as he kicks his feet sheepishly, “I don’t know what’s gotten into them tonight. I mean, I know how they are around girls but you’re– you’re different.”

 You punch his shoulder playfully, not wanting Tommy to feel responsible for the fact that his friends were clearly just drunk idiots acting like pigs.

 “It’s alright, Tommy. You can’t fix stupid. Trust me, I tried to fix you for years.”

 “Shut the fuck up,” he grins, eyes finally meeting yours. Every time Tommy looks at you, something stirs inside of you that you can’t put your finger on. The feeling excites and scares you, but you know that all of the best things in life are supposed to make you feel that way. Arm in arm, you and Tommy walk into the neon glow of the night, your heart skipping a beat with every step.

...

 The walk ends up being a lot longer than either of you had expected, but neither of you seem to mind. In fact, the further you got away from the strip, the more connected to Tommy you seem to feel. The two of you had passed a cigarette back and forth as you travelled, walking so closely that it was a miracle one of you hadn’t tripped over the other’s feet.

 When you finally approach your hotel, Tommy nearly passes it up. He didn’t realize that the art deco building with valet parking is basically your home until you find something more permanent. Your manager had arranged everything for you and, although you argued in favor of a simple motel, he obviously hadn’t listened to a word you said.

 “Holy fuck, dude. This is your hotel?”

 You suddenly flush red with embarrassment, feeling very not punk rock in the presence of such an extravagant building. “Uh, yeah. It seems that my manager went a little overboard when booking our place, huh?”

 “Are you kidding me? This place is rad as fuck,” Tommy turns to you in a sudden burst of energy with a wild look in his eyes, “Do you think you’d let me come up and see the place?”  

 Although his question is innocent enough, you can’t ignore the way your stomach backflips at the thought of being alone with Tommy in your bedroom. With the recent upheaval of emotions you’d been experiencing since Tommy catapulted himself back into your life, you know that being with him any longer is bound to be a bad idea. It really was getting late, and part of you is starting to wonder if your feelings are real or just a product of exhaustion.

 Still, Tommy’s sparkling blue eyes pull you in and you find yourself nodding your head yes before you can give his question a second thought. When the two of you walk inside, you’re too amused by Tommy’s enraptured gaze to notice the weird stares that the staff and other guests were shooting your way. There’s no doubt that you and Tommy stand out among the marble floors and jewel-encrusted chandeliers. Still, you smile all the way to the elevators, noting how small Tommy appears beneath the vaulted ceilings.

 “I can’t believe you get to stay at a place like this,” Tommy says as the two of you step into the elevator. You aren’t sure if you’re seeing things or going crazy from exhaustion, but the sight of Tommy’s bruised eye glistening under the golden fluorescents looks strangely beautiful.

 “Pretty crazy, huh?” you reply, knowing that the craziest part of your whole return to L.A. is standing right in front of you.

 When the elevator reaches the thirteenth floor, you walk out ahead of Tommy, escorting him down the snaking hallway and to the front door of your room. You pry the door open, your breath hitching slightly as you feel Tommy shuffle in behind you. The room is spacious, with a plush king-sized bed and a floor to ceiling view of the city below.

 “Damn dude, I really hope Mötley Crüe can come to places like this someday,” Tommy says, sauntering over to the window. He pushes the curtain back, revealing the city lights glittering in the darkness.

 “You will.” Even though Tommy’s bandmates were indefinitely jerks, you believe in Tommy’s talent more than anyone else searching for stardom in this godforsaken city.

 “Hey Tommy, I think I still have some bubbly the hotel left me if you wanna crack it open,” you bend over, reaching into the mini fridge to retrieve the full-sized bottle of champagne the hotel manager had left on your bed yesterday. While you were thankful for the welcome gift, you had never been one to drink alone. Tommy just so happens to be the perfect excuse to not let it go to waste.

 Weirdly enough, Tommy doesn’t answer you. Standing upright again, you set the bottle on the dresser and decide to find out what’s captured his short attention span this time. Turning around, you nearly slam right into Tommy– not realizing he had been standing so close to you. He catches your arms, gently wrapping his large hands around your wrists to steady your balance.  

 “Shit, Tommy,” you laugh nervously, “I didn’t see you there–”

 Before you can finish your thought, Tommy’s lips are pressed against your own. Instinctively, you kiss him back, feeling as though your body is on autopilot while your ability to think rationally takes the back seat.

 You shiver as your lips melt into Tommy’s, his kisses becoming more frantic and desperate. Releasing his hold on your arms, Tommy cups the sides of your face. His tongue grazes your bottom lip, silently requesting permission to cross a line you can never come back from.

 Gasping into his touch, you give him the freedom to explore. Slowly, he starts distancing his sloppy kisses from your mouth and places them on your jawline. You take in a sharp breath as he goes to work on your neck, your hands finding themselves nestled firmly in his hair as he nips at your throat.

 “Fuck Tommy,” you pant, trying to gain some semblance of clarity, “what are we doing?”

 Tommy stops kissing your neck to give you a firm look, his eyes dark with desire. “What I’ve always wanted to do,” he replies.

 Your heart leaps at his confession, compelling you to kiss him once again. This time, Tommy’s hands snake up your shirt as he pulls your body against his. You yank your shirt up over your head, feeling as though the room is far too hot for the amount of clothes you’re wearing. Before you can start unfastening the button of your jeans, Tommy shoves you roughly onto the bed. You fall dizzily onto the plush duvet, your skin feeling as though its on fire.

 “No, baby,” he growls, “that’s my job.”

 Tommy discards his shirt, leaving himself standing bare-chested before you. Your face flushes at the sight of his cock throbbing through the constraint of his leather pants.

 Fuck he’s gorgeous.

 As you stare up at Tommy you can’t help but wonder how he turned out this way. If someone told you yesterday that you’d be moments away from fucking your childhood best friend, you would’ve laughed right in your face. Now here you are, shirtless and squirming with anticipation on your bed.

 As you stare up at Tommy you can’t help but wonder how he turned out this way. If someone told you yesterday that you’d be moments away from fucking your childhood best friend, you would’ve laughed right in their face. Now here you are, shirtless and squirming with anticipation on your bed.

 Before you can get lost in your thoughts any longer, Tommy is on top of you. Your mouths crash together in a hot disarray of lips and tongue. Tommy goes back to kissing your neck, sucking and biting the soft skin until it becomes bruised between his teeth. With each love bite, his mouth travels lower. All you can do is gasp with pleasure as he places a wet kiss on your lower abdomen, his hands going to work on pulling off your jeans.

 As you lay there in your underwear, Tommy kneels before you at the edge of the bed, pausing to admire the shape of your body as it splays out before him.

 “God, baby,” Tommy murmurs, his voice barely louder than a whisper, “you look so delicious spread out for me like this...”

 Tommy situates himself between your legs, gripping your thighs tightly. You suck in a sharp breath as Tommy begins peppering your inner thigh with soft kisses, his lips fluttering painfully close to your bikini line. He looks up at you, dark blue eyes sparkling dangerously beneath his eyelashes.

 “Can I make you feel good, baby girl? I want you to feel good,” his hot breath ghosts against the wet spot on your panties, and you find yourself nodding vigorously in response.

 Tommy just shoots you a mischievous grin, licking a wet stripe up your clothed pussy. You are unable to contain the strangled moan that leaves your lips, fingers clawing aimlessly at the duvet for support. Your underwear is soaking wet, and you’re unsure how much longer you’ll last without any actual contact.  

 “Use your words, Y/N,” Tommy laps at your heat once again, eliciting another desperate gasp from you, “tell me what you want, baby.”

 Crazed by Tommy’s teasing, you finally relent, “Please make me feel good, Tommy. Fuck, I want you–I wanted you the minute I saw you.”

 Tommy chuckles darkly, aggressively pulling your panties off of your hips and onto the floor. Without so much as a warning, his tongue is on you; lapping at your hot center hungrily. As he sucks on your clit, you feel a large hand dig into the soft flesh of your thigh, raking downwards and scratching your skin.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck,” you chant, your abdomen tightening with hot pressure. You grip his hair as your hips involuntarily buck into his mouth, legs shaking as he hums with pleasure against your clit.

 “You taste so good,” Tommy moans, curling one of his long fingers inside of you.

 You clench around him, unable to keep your orgasm from taking you over any longer. A series of moans fall from your lips, your body hot with pins and needles. With your hands firmly twisted in the sheets, you come all over Tommy’s mouth and fingers.

 Sitting upright, you blink at Tommy, mind dizzy with pleasure. “Oh my fucking god, Tommy,” you pant, “where did you learn to do that?”

 “Lots of practice,” Tommy winks leaning in to kiss you. His lips are soft and loving against yours, causing a shiver to run up your spine. As the kiss becomes more intense, Tommy peels off his leather pants and climbs on top of you, pinning you onto the bed by your wrists.

 “I don’t think so,” you growl between kisses, shifting your weight to wrestle for control.

 You bite Tommy’s lip hard, catching him off guard just enough to roll him over. Climbing on top of him, you straddle Tommy’s hips firmly and situate yourself on the rock hard bulge in his underwear. Tommy hisses as you apply more pressure, his hands digging into your hip bones. Grinding against him, you pull him into another heated kiss. Tommy’s busted lip had reopened after you’d bitten him, causing a little bit of blood to drip into your mouth.

 Deep down, you know you should stop kissing him like this, but something about seeing Tommy all roughed up turns you on in ways you would never have imagined. Judging by Tommy’s aggressive hold on your hips, you can only assume he’s feeling the same way. Without warning, Tommy shoves you aside to pull off his underwear. When his cock springs free, you are surprised to find that it’s even bigger than you expected.

 Seeing your eyes widen, Tommy chuckles darkly, “Think you can handle it, honey?” Your heartbeat quickens as you look at Tommy’s flushed fash and tangled hair, a drop of blood trickling lazily down his chin.  

 “Try me,” you say definiantly, pushing him back down.

 You mount him again, only this time there’s no fabric to separate the two of you. Teasingly, you rub your slick folds over the head of his dick, hoping that– maybe –you can make him beg for it. Tommy hisses as you rake your nails against his chest, leaving a trail of little pink lines behind.

 “Fuck, baby, you’re such a bad girl,” Tommy gasps, “Wanna–wanna fuck you so bad.”

 Hearing Tommy pleas makes you wet all over again, wanting so desperately to fill whatever was empty inside of you with the man under you. Slowly, you sink onto his cock, your inner walls stinging slightly from the stretch. Truthfully, you had never fucked a guy this big, and Tommy was barely fitting inside of you.

 Tommy bites his lip, noticing the strain you’re experiencing. “That’s it, baby,” he coos, “you’re doing so fucking good for me.”

 Encouraged by Tommy’s praises, you begin to rock back and forth. Tommy’s breathing becomes heavier with every stroke, and, before you know it, he’s guiding your movements with the grip he has on your waist. He feels good, better than any guy you’d ever been with, and you wonder if this is what you had been missing all along.

 “You look so good when you fuck me baby,” Tommy babbles, his hips snapping up to meet yours. Tommy sits up, wrapping an arm around your back to pull you flush against his chest. His face is right up against yours as he fucks into you, your breathy moans falling hot against his open mouth.

 Tommy’s fingers snake up your back and curl into the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging hard. You cry out from a mix of pain and pleasure, the heat in your abdomen tightening.

 “Want me to make you feel good again? Hmm?” Tommy asks, blue eyes fixated firmly on your own. Without giving it a second thought, you nod, rocking your hips into his as sweat trickles in tiny beads down your face.

 Suddenly Tommy’s hand firmly grips your throat, applying gentle pressure just beneath your jawline. Your breath catches in your throat as your breathing is restricted, waves of euphoria radiating through your body. Just as your vision begins to go a little spotty, your orgasm rips through you. As you cry out, Tommy’s movements become erratic and sloppy, his pleasure directly feeding on your own.

 Tommy’s chanting your name when his orgasm hits, pumping into you while his hands grasp your face lovingly, his eyes never leaving yours. The both of you go limp, breathing and panting hard. Tommy falls back into the duvet, while you remain sprawled out on his chest, lightheaded and thoroughly exhausted.

 “Oh...my fucking god,” Tommy heaves, the satisfaction in his voice audible.  You can’t help but giggle breathlessly, “Emphasis on the fucking.”

 Humming contently, you snuggle into his chest, feeling strangely at peace for someone who just fucked their childhood best friend. Tommy runs his fingers through you hair delicately, the act feeling drastically different from how he had been touching you just moments before. There’s a warmth spreading through your chest that you never knew could be there, and it’s consuming you like a wildfire.

 A moment of comfortable silence passes between the two of you. Tommy pets your hair as you trace small circles on his bare chest and, somehow, the exchange feels more intimate than anything else the two of you had experienced together in the past hour.

 “Y/N?” Tommy asks, his voice small.

 You look up at him to find his expression unreadable. “What is it, Tommy?”

 “Can I–can I kiss you?”

 Instead of answering, you place a warm kiss to his lips. The sensation is soft and innocent. Gently, Tommy cups the side of your face, his thumb grazing your cheek tenderly. You nuzzle his nose as you pull away, eliciting amused smiles from the both of you. Part of you wishes this moment could last forever, but the self-doubt nibbling at your brain makes possibility of Tommy wanting to be with you seem unlikely.

 “Why’d you ask if you could kiss me?” you wonder, finding it hard to believe that Tommy would suddenly think you wouldn’t be okay with it.

 Tommy’s brow furrows together and he quickly averts his eyes, suddenly becoming fixated at a point on the ceiling. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he looked embarrassed.

 “I just–” he starts with a sigh, running a hand through his chestnut waves, “I just don’t want this to be a one time thing, you know? You’re too important.”

 Your heart pounds at his confession, pulse rushing noisily through your ears. When Tommy’s lips touched yours for the first time, you assumed that you wouldn’t be more than a one-night fling to him. Still, when you first saw Tommy that night, you swore you had felt something electric passing between the two of you; and now you know that you weren’t crazy after all. This was the first time you’d seen each other in years, but whatever you were experiencing now was real. More importantly, Tommy was experiencing it, too.

 “I don’t think I want this to be a one time thing either.”

Masterlist

[vampirrediaries]

Enemies Of The State : Dark!Klaroline {7}

summary:

This fiction follows the events of just how Klaus Mikaelson and Caroline Forbes lost everything that tied them to their humanity, leading them into something neither of them can come back from.

—————

{10 years ago}

Caroline Forbes felt a degree of satisfaction when she finally packed her things. Just the necessities, of course. Hair curler, clothes, blood bags and vervain in case any vampire’s attempted to get in her way. She could annoyingly name a few, which is why she needed to get out of here as fast as she could.

Not that she was scared of fighting off her supernatural counterparts. No, Caroline just couldn’t be bothered with the whole ordeal. New York was only a few hours away, and the sooner she left the better.

She was zipping up her suitcase when her eye caught something. That wretched piece of parchment on which she was perfectly drawn. Caroline scoffed. Guess she could thank Klaus for one thing. If he hadn’t drawn that, she would still be a girly little vampire with her humanity in tact. She quickly stuffed it in one of her bags, paying no mind to it after that.

Caroline thought it was pathetic, really, how she couldn’t keep him out of her head even with her emotions turned off. Whatever, it’s not like i’m gonna see him again.

With all of her things packed and ready to go, Caroline hastily went out the door, throwing her suitcase in the backseat of her car when she reached it. Slamming the door shut, she looked over her home with lifeless eyes from the drivers seat, not knowing that this was one of the last times she would ever see it. Not that she cared, anyways.

With that being done, Caroline started up the engine, finally driving away to the freedom she so craved.

***

Elena Gilbert’s home was only full of silence as they stood in the wake of Caroline’s outburst.

“Who knew Caroline had that in her.” Damon spoke up in efforts to diffuse the silence. Nobody knew the right thing to say, and why would they? The sweet blonde girl they all knew was gone without a trace.

“She’ll get over whatever she’s going through,” Bonnie began to reason “I mean it’s Caroline. What harm could she do?” Elena whisked her head around, beginning to take in the reality of what had just happened.

“It’s Klaus. It’s his influence,” the Doppelgänger said thoughtfully “She wouldn’t be like this is she had some sense to leave him alone.” The room hummed in unision, silently agreeing with Elena.

“What else did all of you expect? She’d go to the first man to call her pretty. It’s kinda sad, actually,” Damon said with disdain as he made his way to the couch. Elena shot him a look, but didn’t bother defending her friend because she silently agreed with the words coming out.

Everyone did.

“I just can’t believe Klaus of all people,” Elena complained “He tried to kill me multiple times. How could she be so careless?”

“I actually thought she had better taste,” Damon said amusedly, a hostile look in his eyes “I mean she did go for me-”

“I never knew how hypocritical all of you were until now.”

Stefan Salvatore finally spoke up, his tone was as fed up as they’d ever heard him. The room turned their heads in unison, taking in the words that were spoken with surprise.

Damon immediately stood up from the couch, his expression an amused one as he walked towards his only sibling. “Go ahead and enlighten us, brother” His eyes shone with a twisted curiosity “On how we are the hypocrites.”

Stefan scoffed, shaking his head as he walked past Damon. He needed to say this to everyone, because it wasn’t just his older brother that was acting like he was completely innocent and wouldn’t dare cause harm, but all of Caroline’s former friends.

“I don’t know if all of you have realised this, but pray tell me how it’s Caroline who always gets thrown aside because she fell for somone who actually chose her for once. Is it because all of you have promised to make her feel so guilty for everything she does?”

“Are you even listening to yourself right now?” Elena spoke up with disbelief, approaching the vampire with shallow steps. “She betrayed us! She fell for a monster who killed-”

“Yeah, because you’re so innocent” Stefan scoffed “Damon’s killed more people than I have, and yet nobody pushed you to the side when you’ve been with us both.”

The raven haired vampire’s amused look was gone as if it were never there, hostility quickly replacing his features.

“That’s different!” Elena hissed, rage filling her by the second “The pair of you aren’t like that anymore. Your jealous that i broke up with you, and that’s why you’re trying to hurt me”

“Oh spare me. You’re the last thing on my mind these days,” Stefan shot back venomously “And what’s your excuse for someone known as Kol Mikaelson? Because last time I checked, he’s still a cold-hearted murderer-”

Damon flashed towards his brother in an instant, cutting him off. His eyes were a deadly calm as the bore into Stefan’s.

“I wouldn’t say another word, brother.”

Elena looked at a loss for words, silent anger was the only thing she could feel at that name. Stefan wasn’t finished with what else he had to say, either. He wanted the whole group to know just what they had done to Caroline Forbes for the time they’d known her, but as soon as he could get out another word, the door suddenly flew open.

Everyone’s widened eyes were on Rebekah Mikaelson as she walked into the angst driven living room. She was slightly bloody looking over the group with seriousness. She only saw incredulous stares, her being the last person anyone thought they’d see tonight.

“We have a problem.”

————

Klaus Mikaelson’s rage echoed through the mansion as he threw an empty glass on the far side of the wall, screaming.

“I will hunt him down to his bloody death,” Klaus seethed as his rage went to other limits “I want him in a coffin if he dares touch her!”

Kol Mikaelson didn’t look fazed as he saw his this take place. He expected him to be like this, but it didn’t mean dread didn’t fill him up. Klaus would unleash hell on earth if something dared happen to Caroline Forbes, and Kol happened to like earth the way it was. It was why he was so adamant on keeping Katherine alive, to avoid such events from ever occurring.

“Let’s not be rash, brother” He approached the rageful hybrid slowly, making sure not to rile him up any further. “We don’t know if Elijah has gone to kill the girl for sure.”

“Oh, pray tell me Kol,” Klaus hissed venomously “Where would our brother possibly go the minute he heard Katerina was nothing but a pile of bones?”

“Her friends won’t possibly let him kill her-”

“Her incessant friends don’t care for her,” Klaus growled as he cut him off, fangs lengthening by the second as his strong emotions overtook him.

He was a fool for ever leaving her, thinking it was for her betterment. He should’ve taken her with him, and she would’ve came as well. She gave him a chance, and he betrayed her in the cruelest of ways. His heart clenched as he recalled her utterly broken voice that poured her soul to him over a phone call, when he should’ve been there in person.

You promised. You promised you’d be here.

No, Klaus Mikaelson didn’t deserve Caroline Forbes. He didn’t deserve to be her last love. But damn him if anything harmed his light.

Before Kol could stop him, the ruthless Hybrid had already flashed away to save his Caroline’s fate. He would kill everyone and everything that stood in his way of getting to her, and if he had to to desiccate his brother to ensure that she was still breathing, he wouldn’t think twice about the ordeal.

————

Caroline was on her way to sweet freedom when her phone started buzzing halfway through the journey. She rolled her eyes, carelessly throwing the ringing thing in the backseat. Whoever it may be, they would only stand in her way. She just couldn’t have that now, could she?

Her hand was occupied with a blood bag while the other was on the steering wheel, effortlessly guiding the car through the streets of a small town she’d came into on her way. She slyly smirked to herself. There was no reason she shouldn’t get a head start. Caroline felt her throat tighten with starvation for that red ecstasy straight from the vein, feasting her eyes upon the walking flesh and blood that crowded the pavements.

She impatiently got out of the car, slamming the door behind as she stiffly began walking in efforts to find somewhere witnesses won’t be present. It was a dreary little place, reminding her too much of her former home. Whatever, she would just drain the life out of a poor, unexpecting human and be done with it. It would suppress her urges for the rest of the way.

Caroline’s eyes suddenly caught a boy, walking down an abandoned alley as calmy as ever. He only looked thirteen. She didn’t care. She just wanted blood, and blood is what she’ll get no matter who it came from.

Bloodlust surged through her now, snapping into focus as quickly as ever as she flashed towards the boy. The poor soul looked up quickly, innocence protruding from his expression as his eyes bore into Caroline’s darkening one’s questioningly. She didn’t say a word as she felt the familiar feeling of fangs growing from her incisors.

The boy slightly parted his mouth to as if he was about to say something, or to scream. She didn’t know, because she instantly plunged her deadly weapons into his neck before he could dare draw attention. Holding her hand tightly across his mouth, she drank greedily. Her body felt alive and euphoric, the feeling all vampire’s fought to chase.

Her victim slowly stopped the muffled sounds of violent protest and pain, falling limp as death neared. Caroline sickeningly revelled in the heart barely pumping blood now, drinking until it was all gone, and so was he. Dropping the corpse on the ground carelessly, just like she did with her first victim, the vampire was far from feeling remorse. All she felt, and all she wanted to feel, was the thrill of the hunt rushing through her every nerve.

Leaving the corpse where it was, Caroline wiped her mouth with her sleeve in order to not cause attention to herself. Sure, the mangled body was a factor, but she’d be long gone before it was found. She quickly made her way to the car, getting in the drivers seat as she started the engine. The car hummed as it drove away from where she’d committed a murder that was hopefully first of many.

A twisted, sadistic smile appears on Caroline’s face as she drove. See, she knew that this was the point of no return. She finally let her true self out to play, and after pushing it deep inside the darkest crevices of her mind, finally letting it fully consume her whole being felt like power.

She loved it.

——————

masterlist

[hey-hamlet]

BNHA AU Ideas: Power Transfer

Also on AO3!

TL;DR: 

One for all is a power that has been passed down for generations. Turns out the most recent generation can afford to be a whole lot more liberal with his sharing. Also turns out sharing quirks runs in the family.

An AU where Izuku can share OFA full cowling with multiple people at once.

shared power ofa,

izuku giving aizawa 5% of one for all durring the usj or izuku giving toshinori 99% of OFA durring the last fight

cause consider the world never finding out about small might, all might retires but izuku knows

the rescue team all having the max amount of ofa they can use, which is around 2% each, cause a lil sparking team of heroes

izuku using kirishima to give bakugo some too n them using it to get away

izuku having two quirks is my favourite goddamn thing bc him being able to share his quirk but not having anything to share is great

he gives bits to allmight, like a constant 1% so he can teach classes and do press stuff

some rando wants to do an "all might" where is he now segment and it spans a good few months so izuku is continuously in the background just

conspiracy theory starts that izuku is a villain or allmights son

a villain and all might's son

izuku has no double toe joint but the doc cant find any evidence of a quirk? so he tells them izuku is either quirkless or has an invisible quirk. something subtle, or specific enough to have not activated by now

bakugo kinda,, is chill with izuku. he was waiting for izuku to develop a quirk till he judged him, but he never did so he kinda withheld judgement long enough for them to become decent friends

anyway, izuku likes to ramble about different things his quirk could technically be, bakugo likes to join in. they can go at this for h o u r s cackling about stupid hypotheticals

they workout together, they both do boxing and try out random moves they see on the internet on each other. they have a pile of gym mats in the woods like the weirdos they are

bakugo is like,, convinced izuku's quirk is actually an intellect up but he just shrugs

izuku has to grab something before he heads home so he takes the underpass and we get basically episode 1 from there. all might says no, the villain gets away, attacks Bakugo. izuku runs in, throws dust in the villain's eyes and pulls at bakugo's hands. all might jumps in, saves the day yada yada

some background for u about all might bc his past is a touch different here. during the battle with afo, afo was distracted. all might sustained the same injures but won more easily.

night eye never looks into his future because "my purpose is done, nighteye. let's live like everyone else, no fate of the world on our shoulders" he never looks into all mights future again at his request

they stay together

so instead of the big argument they go get ramen and get drunk because they don't have to be superhuman anymore, they can relax now

back to the main timeline-

so izuku is already fit, cleans the beach in 8 months, nighteye supervises

all might gives izuku the quirk 2 months before the entrance exam, nighteye is there to "oversee" (he wants to see izuku choke on a hair and laugh at this kid hes become pretty fond of)

also mirio! is izuku's bro because i love he

izuku eats the hair and gets the quirk like, instantly which?? is confusing nighteye and all might. nighteye has like,,, hidden behind a car because hes the only person with self-preservation

allmight touches izuku and the lightning climbs up his arm and he just pOofs out into swolmight. hes ShooK, so is izuku

anyway, he manages to turn it off and izuku is just standing there like "oh my god what the fuck"

"izuku,, what,, happened there"

",,,, one for all??? leaked out??? into allmight????"

...

"nighteye come over here."

"izukU nO"

"STAND STILL NIGHTEYE I JUST NEED TO TRY SOMETHING"

nighteye is forcibly given a little of ofa and regrets a lot of stuff

anyway, izuku breaks an arm trying to use ofa and hes muttering trying to work out how to use it, nighteye basically says "well, think back to how ofa came about" and izuku is like ",,, what"

and nighteye screams because TOSHI YOU DIDNT TELL HIM?????? and allmight ",,, o o p s"

so izuku gets to hear the story of all for one while hes being driven to UA for recovery girl hes,,, really quiet for a second

"when did you fight him?"

"six years ago, april?"

",,, this has to be a coincidence"

hisashi went out on a "business trip" 6 years ago and they haven't seen him since. he calls, but hes never visited and izuku has this terrible feeling

because izuku cant calm down and because nighteye thinks this kid might be on to something they call tsukauchi and he agrees to meet them at UA

izuku gets treated, naomasa is in v quickly afterwards before he calls his dad he turns to nighteye, allmight and Naomasa

"i've never been able to lie to my dad. i thought he was just really good at reading me but,,"

"if hes afo he might have a quirk"

"yeah. so i'll just twist the truth. im good at that, but thats all i'll be able to do"

anyway, he calls up his dad and slaps this big grin on his face. the phone is on speaker

"hey dad!!!!" "izuku! is something wrong?"

"oi, cant i call my dad for no reason?"

"you, willingly calling someone? dont make me laugh"

izuku giggles despite himself

"anyway, you'll never guess!!"

"did youuuu,,,, hmmmm, meet all might?"

they freeze but izuku just laughs

"yeah,, but thats not the most exciting thing!!! my quirk came in finally"

"oh?"

"yeah! imagine the worlds most basic power enhancer, but i can share the energy! you have any idea where that could have come from?"

"no! i can't think of anyone in our family with a quirk like that! sounds crazy!"

naomasa looks grin, and mouths "liar"

izuku pales but keeps his smile

"do you think you could visit, id love to show you!! oh, maybe we could test it together! you always had the best ideas for my quirk notes"

"id love to izuku, but im stuck in america for the near future, you know it is. i'll see what i can do tho, ok champ?"

naomasa shakes his head again "lying" izuku looks like hes going to be sick. nighteye is pale, all might looks stunned. izuku grits his teeth but his voice is still light and happy

"i'm gonna make it into UA so you can watch me kick butt from america! you better cheer me on!"

"im looking forward to it. say hi to your mother from me."

naomasa nods. hes telling the truth. that makes nighteye feel the sickest

"love you izuku"

",,, love you too dad"

izuku hangs up the phone and retches into the bin. nighteye is shaking. all might storms out. naomasa punches the wall

izuku looks up with tears in his eyes

",,, does my mum know?"

nighteye wants to cry

"i dont know kid"

izuku tells katuski that his quirk finally came in! but,,, in the worlds biggest mess of a way

basically hes lying in bed, trying to work out why he can't use it without breaking bones but the people he shares it with can, he bolts upright

"POWER MODULATION OH MY GOD"

he runs out his door all the way to bakugos house and climbs in through his window, grabbing a sleeping bakugo by the shoulders

"KACCHAN ITS POWER MODULATION"

"IZuKU whAt tHE fuCK"

"my quirk!!! i was breaking bones because i wasnt modulating it!!!"

",,,,q QUiRK/???/?"

",,,, oh yeah oops"

mitsuki runs in with a frying pan ready to murder a villain but its just izuku

"carry on"

izuku doesnt tell him its ofa but he explains his quirk has finally showed up, bakugo asks him if hes registered it yet

",,,noooooo"

"wait what? you, breaking the law? mister "i cant kill an ant because all might himself will call me a villain""

izuku, w the most shit-eating grin, explains that you only legaly have to register your quirk when it shows up, or after you are tested when you are five, whichever happens first so, legally, he doesnt need to register because it would be seen as voluntary updating

cut to the enterance exam

aizawa is holding the papers for the kids hes observing right then

"quirkless? that kid doesn't look quirkless"

and yagi sighs

"of course he didnt,,,"

"all might? do you know him?"

"NO NO IDEA WHO MID- THAT YOUNG CHILD IS"

",,,, r i g h t"

“aizawa listen i have never seen young midoriya in my life ever”

basically, izuku is hiding the "transfer" part of his power from most people bc hes stubborn and thinks it could be useful

also,,, in this au shinso makes it in on hero points thanks

bakugo is about to rush the 0 pointer but shinso can see its going to fall on him shinsou yells

"HEY FUCK FACE"

"HA-"

"MOVE MOVE MOVE GET OVER HERE BEFORE YOU FUCKING DIE OH MY GOD MOVE I DONT WANT TO SEE SOMEONE DIE TODAY"

shinsou and bakugou are the type of friends that flat out have no love for each other but would punch anyone who says anything bad abt the other. like shinsou walks into school and bakugou s just

“dammit i thought u fucking died smh”

“i wish i did then i wouldn’t have to look at ur ugly ass”

in this au shinso and izuku bond when they are standing outside they door bc izuku looks like hes gonna fucking cry hes so scared and shinsou is like "wow big mood"

shinso is not shinson in this au! bc izuku is gonna do a soft

basically, quirk test? shinsou is s w e a t i n g bakugo looks a little worried for his new friend but no one would notice if they weren’t izuku

shinsou turns to him like "my quirk is mental im going to fa I L"

izuku grabs his hand and he feels this rush of energy, you can almost see it dancing along his skin. izuku grins

"i think you'll find you do just fine"

(izuku gave him like,, less than a full 1% but hes like doubled in strength and speed and hes??? shook?? bc whats happening)

aizawa is lost bc shinso has a mental quirk he shouldnt be doing this well, so he tries to cancel it

nothing happens and aizawa is so lost??? bc shinsou is kinda reedy and not super fit but hes placing solidly in the middle

and he noticing that shinso’s eyes seem to be glowing and so are they eyes of the kid coming in second and gives a big "hm,mmmm"

anyway, ball pitch, he cancels izukus quirk and turns to look at shinso, his eyes are dim. izuku looks sheepish but also like hes ready to throw down and its an interesting look

aizawa just sighs "you know what? just throw the ball."

izuku g r i n s and yeets it into next year using more of his quirk than he like,, really should have? to prove a point (his finger is bruised, not broken. he used 25%)

anyway aizawa shows the results, shinso is in the middle, izuku second, hagakure is last and sadly shes not getting expelled bc plot reasons – im sorry I have a thing against her shes perfectly valid probably im just still convinced shes the traitor even tho its totally a teacher

he calls izuku out on it but does admit he didnt say you couldnt help eachother, so its kind on him. shinso looks like hes going to pass out with relief

Hagekure is the traitor in this au though, 100%

during the camp she is at the pick up zone, hiding. izuku pulls bakugo out of the way, they all seem safe

but

she pushes izuku in through the portal as it closes

fyi afo takes her quirk and leaves her braindead in the nomu factory bc shes not useful anymore. also because now he needs to have a really awkward conversation with his son he was hoping to avoid

also usj? is really melodramatic

he gives aizawa 4% which is the max nighteye could hold without it hurting

aizawa takes a hit from the nomu and he reaches out his hand

izuku cries as he gives him an extra 4% and aizawa gets free but he can see bruises forming with every step his teacher takes

[thepinkwriterr]

Loner // IT 2017 Chapter Twenty - One

Dodie Clark - She

-

Am I allowed to look at her like that?

Could it be wrong, when she's just so nice to look at?

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep

She tastes like apple juice and peach

You would find her in a Polaroid picture

And she means everything to me

I'd never tell

No, I'd never say a word

And oh it aches

But it feels oddly good to hurt

She smells like lemongrass and sleep

She tastes like apple juice and peach

You would find her in a Polaroid picture

And she means everything to me

And I'll be okay

Admiring from afar

Cause even when she's next to me

We could not be more far apart

Cause she tastes like birthday cake and story time and fall

But to her

I taste of nothing at all

Cause she smells like lemongrass and sleep

She tastes like apple juice and peach

You would find her in a Polaroid picture

And she means everything to me

Yes, she means everything to me

She means everything to me

//

Danielle's POV

"Uck, that's disgusting." Beverly cringed. Me, Bev, Richie, and Eddie gawked at Casey's table. Clair Benson, one of her pets, was running her hands through his hair while they talked. Casey and Bill were playing tonsil tennis, effectively ruining my appetite.

"When the hell did Stan become a traitor?" I asked, scooting my tray away from my face. "Over the weekend when you were at home. We were at a party and I introduced them. They started talking about stories of each other from school. It was weird as fuck." Beverly rolled her eyes.

"No, you're the whore!" Richie and Eddie came in, arguing once again. "I'm not a whore. If anything, you are!" Eddie retorted, sitting in a plastic chair across from me.

"I don't know Rich...I gotta agree with Eds, you are drowning in pussy." I humored him. He smirked,"Maybe you're right. I had Marina Ledges just begging for Lil Henry the other day."

"'Lil Henry'?" Bev asked, disgust on her face. "Yeah. Y'know...My d-" "We got it Rich!" Eddie interrupted, yelling. "I'm a pussy annihilator!" Richie smirked proudly.

"Really? Then why did Sarah Jesso reject you? She's a known hoe. She would fuck Eddie. No offense Eddie." Bev added in.

"On second thought, I think Eddie's the whore. I mean, have you seen the way he stares at Mr. Zigs?" Richie asked wryly, smirking. "I am not boning my Biology teacher! I get my grades honestly through tireless studying and grueling homework!"

We all laughed. "I don't know Eds, Richie may be right." Bev chuckled. "Yeah. I mean, I've seen the way you two stare at each other, biting your lips and hiking up your shorts to show off your thighs." I shrugged.

"Fuck you guys!" Eddie exclaimed, throwing his things in the trash. We all turned to gawk at the PDA coming from the table of whores once again. When Eddie came back he joined in, muttering something about sucking face.

The bell rang, dismissing us from lunch. "Thank god," I grumbled to Bev as we walked down the hallway,"If I had to look at that for one more second I was gonna barf." "Me too." Beverly scowled.

Someone shoulder checked me. I looked ahead, seeing Casey's dumbass. "Just let it go, Dani." Beverly held my arm, keeping me in place. I exhaled calmly,"You're right, you're right."

We sat in the library, talking about things. She told me that Jake told her what happened. "So, he kinda caused your guys breakup?" She asked.

I chuckled,"No. Both Bill and I were at fault. But regardless, we weren't meant for each other, clearly." Bev nodded,"You're being really mature about this, good for you." She smiled.

What I didn't tell her was how and why I was being so mature. I didn't mind the fact Bill had fucked me over. I didn't mind because now I could feel whatever I wanted for anyone without feeling bad.

"Well, I gotta go. Ben and I gotta study for calculous." She stood, pushing in her chair. I nodded,"Have fun." Sometimes I forget that they're all in the year above me. Everyone except Eddie.

When the bell rang again I grabbed my things and hauled ass from History to Bio. I was hasty to get to the room, as it was my last class of the day. On my way to class I felt someone shoulder check me again.

But this time Beverly wasn't here to keep me level-headed. I turned, slapping Casey. "You fucking whore!" I spat. I could see the anger bubbling up through her, exiting her mouth in the form of a comeback,"At least I can keep a guy, shit you-"

"No that fuck you can't! Bill only went back to you because he thought I didn't want him. You're just a cheap version of me, and you know it. That's why you hate me. Because I'm classy and you're t-"

She punched me in the ribs. It didn't hurt too bad. I rolled my eyes. "Trashy." I finished. She screamed, trying to jump on me. I moved out of the way swiftly. I ran to my class, that was only a few steps away, and nearly avoided her.

About ten minutes later I was called down to the office. I received a detention, while Casey got off...you guessed it! Scott free. That bitch.

Kali's POV

I woke up to a pounding headache once again. I groaned, sitting up slowly. I took some pain numers, then went about my morning routine.

When I got to school all I wanted to do was see Beverly. I knew she was hanging out with Danielle and the rest of the famed Losers Gang.

Another morning spent alone in the bathroom...

Everyday I waited for History and Biology, dreading anything before or after. Our projects were done after today, no need for her to continue to pretend to be my friend.

As I walked down the hallway, ready for History, I ran into a large person. I fell straight on my ass. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" He pulled me up with his large hand. "No, you're fine, it was my fault." I was distracted, focused soully on seeing Bev.

"No no, it's my fault. And how could I have missed such a beautiful girl." He smirked. I recognized him as Ben Hanscom. "I um-I-I-" His smirk stood still,"It's alright. How about I make it up by taking you out this Friday night?" He leaned against the wall.

"I-I have a boyfriend." I ran past him, up the stairs.

History couldn't have rolled around any slower! I sat across from the acclaimed red head, staring at the back of her beautiful hair.

As the teacher droned on and on about the French Revolution and marquis de lafayette's genius, the words of Stevie Nicks rang through my mind.

Something's happening

Happening to me

My friends say I'm acting peculiarly

C'mon baby

We better make a start

You better make it soon before you break my heart

Oh I

I want to be with you everywhere

Oh I

I want to be with you everywhere

And it was true. I look at this woman. This divine creation of beauty. I felt my face still burning. I tried to control my blush, but I just couldn't.

I packed up my things, ready for the school day to be over. The bell rang, dismissing the students. A note fell over my books. I looked up to see Beverly, holding tightly onto her book bag straps, looking over her shoulder at me as walked out the door. She winked before she crossed the doorway.

I smiled, picking up the note. Scrawled in her pretty loopy hand writing was: We still on for a sleepover? I smiled as I read her name signed at the bottom: Beverly

Danielle's POV

I walked down the staircase to the detention room. Boy oh boy was I in it when I got home. If my day wasn't bad enough you could not believe the only other person in the room. Richie goddamn mother fuckin Tozier.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the P-" "Save it, Creep." He was taken back by this. I hadn't said anything of the sort to him in a very long time.

I looked to the front, ignoring him. My dumbass didn't bring anything with me. My things were in my book bag in my car. I sighed, knowing he wouldn't leave me to sulk in peace. I knew my inevitable fate at home.

He was fucking humming. Again. "Could you fucking stop?" I asked, hatred packed in my words, turning around to face him.

"What am I doing wrong?" He asked, tilting his head in a benign way, continuing his humming. I rolled my eyes. "Don't look at me." He stoped to be a dick, then continued humming.

Furrowing my brows out of confusion,"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I stood, walking over to him. "You're-you're unbelievable! I try to be nice! I try so fucking hard! And you're-you're just a dick to me! All. The. Time!"

He smirked, the corner of his mouth raising. That smirk made all of my anger melt away. Any anger I had ever felt for him dipped off me like a cheap candle and puddled on the floor below me, absorbing into the carpet.

His eyes shone brightly, the florescent lights capturing their beauty in full. Those beautiful eyes. Those Sienna eyes that I had grown to love.

Love? Really Danielle? Do I love him... No, no I couldn't. I can't. But god, those eyes were so inviting and made me feel so warm that I could look into them at the depths of the sea and still feel at home.

Maybe I do love him. No, I know I love him. I mean, how could you not love someone who made you feel like they built the sun, just for you?

How could you not love someone who made you feel that every breath you took was the first that had ever been taken? How could you not love someone who made you feel as if they didn't need music, that your voice was the only melody they ever needed. So how could I not be in love with him?

As I stared into his doe eyes that were magnified by his thick lenses, I thought about what I wanted to tell him. And I opened my mouth:

"I love you. I love you so much. I look at you and all I see is this beautiful human being.

All I see is your smile, your eyes that look brutal and theres a defining pain there, but so much love.

All I see are your dark curls, framing your gorgeous face. Your face could melt away the deepest of stresses, making malignant days seem like heaven on earth.

Your long, taut legs. Your thin cascading arms, leading to large, lithe hands.

Every part, every Inch, ever freckle, every pale section of your being is beautiful. There isn't a part of you that I wouldn't feel honored and blessed to love."

But I didn't open my mouth. I didn't say what I needed to say. I didn't tell him that he's everything I could and would ever need.

I didn't tell him his eyes remind me of rainy days spent inside under the covers.

I didn't tell him that I love him.

Kali's POV

I sat across from Beverly in Biology, filling out a sheet. She made a corny joke about atoms, a smile forcing it's way to my face. We both erupted into innocent laughter.

Just the sound of her giggling voice made my heart flutter. And I knew, in that moment, that I wasn't like other girls. I wasn't normal.

Danielle's POV

"You're not so innocent, Princess. You..." We droned on and on about why the other person was at fault for our broken friendship. It was breaking me to tear him down.

"And-and your perfect face, beautiful hair, long legs..." His tone softened,"You just sit there and pretend I hate you! You sit there and you can't see that you're breaking my heart! You stand here and act like the reason I hate you isn't because I can't stand the thought of you with Bill! You're breaking my heart Danielle. You're fucking breaking my heart."

All I could do was look into his eyes. He had a tears escaping his eyes, only making a short way from his tear ducts before wiping them away. He looked to me for a response.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn't muster up anything.

He cradled the back of my head, pulling me in close to him. He crashed his soft lips into mine.

Word Count: 2170

[snarky-badger]

Eddie/Venom finding out their S/O has a healing factor, after she was severely injured during a mugging, stabbed from behind or something. Venom is devastated for a few seconds thinking they failed, and their lover is dead. only to get a shock when she jolts up and starts wheezing and coughing up blood; begging them to pull the knife out venom reluctantly does so, and watches in awe as the injury heals.

*crawls out of Writer’s Block hell* I’m scrolling through Prompt suggestions trying to get the muse back. Kinda abandoned doing things in order for the moment, sorry. And sorry for the long period of inactivity. RL is sucking all my will to write at the moment :(

It had been a wonderful afternoon of playing hooky from work. You and Eddie had caught a matinee, then gone to lunch at his favorite buffet restaurant - you were sure they were low-key scared of him at this point. He and Venom ate a lot. Still, despite the horrified looks at Eddie’s fifth helping, the two of you had enjoyed your meal.

The entire day had been a godsend of calmness. Up until karma, fate, or just some little asshole at the Universe’s dealings decided to throw a monkey wrench into the whole thing.

“Whoa guy, you don’t wanna do this,” Eddie frowned as the mugger tightened his grip on you, the sizeable knife at your throat digging in a little.

The man’s free hand was painfully squeezing your left arm as he pulled you backwards into the alley. Eddie followed, a white sheen flitting across his eyes, and your dry swallow had your skin grating against the blade at your jugular.

“Wallet and phone!” The man’s fetid breath rolled past your face as he growled out his demands, and you clenched your jaw, not fear, but anger rising in you as Eddie obediently dug out his wallet and smartphone, handing both of them over to the mugger, who chuckled as he shoved both items into the jacket he was wearing. “You too, toots.”

You grimaced at the ‘toots’ remark, but reached into your small purse to retrieve the items, slapping them into the grasping hand to your left. The knife nudged you a little, maybe because of the force you’d used, and you saw Eddie’s gaze darken angrily.

The blade left your throat, and you finally let yourself breathe, before a dirty hand curled around your neck, holding you tight. The mugger at your back leaned into you, cheek brushing yours, and you wrinkled your nose at the smell that clung to his skin. “Sorry, toots, this ain’t personal. But, your boytoy there, he’s one of those that’ll try to be the hero once I let you go. Gotta distract him, got me?”

You opened your mouth to voice your confusion before white hot pain exploded in your back. Something - your brain said ‘knife’ - slipped in between your shoulder blades, slicing, cutting, stealing your breath from you in a horrible gasp. Blood flecked your lips as you met Eddie’s horrified gaze, and you stumbled forward when the mugger shoved at you, sending you staggering into Eddie’s open arms as you fell.

Heat and cold warred in your body as you struggled for breath. Something in your chest didn’t feel right, you couldn’t get in enough air. Eddie cradled you in his arms as he dropped to his knees, grief and anger warring in his eyes before blackness swarmed around him, Venom making an appearance.

Obsidian tendrils lashed out. You heard more than saw them gain purchase on the mugger, heard the wet snap of breaking bone and tearing flesh.

Something popped in your chest and suddenly blood filled your mouth, obstructing your airway. You gurgled, coughing, every spasm making fresh pain lance through you. You felt cold, felt sticky, hot, blood - such a contrast - wetting the back of your shirt and dripping to the ground below you.

Venom’s grip on you tightened, painfully so, tendrils curling around you to secure you to him as he leapt up the side of the building, more tendrils and his right hand digging into the brick as he scaled upwards. “MORSEL! FIGHT! THERE’S A HOSPITAL–”

You swallowed blood and shook your head, raising a bloodied hand to touch his face. “T-t-too late.”

“NO!”

Everything was fading. The sounds of the City, cars, people, pigeons, everything was just vanishing. All you could hear was your labouring heart and the gurgling breaths you were taking. Your vision blurred at the edges, even as you struggled to focus on Venom as he madly, desperately, leapt across rooftops, uncaring that he’d be seen in the daylight. “…s-stop.”

A pained, wounded, noise left him as he jerked to a halt on a rooftop, pale eyes fixated on you as a large taloned hand rose to cup the side of your face, his voice a low, mournful whisper. “MORSEL–”

“S’okay,” you rasped, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth, even as your vision faded, the feeling of your heart literally missing a beat thudding in your chest, like the final nail in your coffin. Weakly, you rose a shaking hand to cover his, unable to see, but hearing the low, alien, keen that left him. “…s’okay… love you… s’okay…”

“NO. NO NO NO! EDDIE! EDDIE, WHAT DO WE DO?! NIBBLE, MORSEL, PLEASE—”

His begging voice faded from your ears as your heart stopped, your hand falling from his.

For one long, horrible, moment, you ceased to be. That long second stretched out, an eternity of darkness and cold and emptiness.

Before it all slammed back.

Your body convulsed as life was forced back into it, your eyes going wide as you gasped for air. Sound snapped back into focus, the sky too bright to your eyes that had been sightless just moments before.

Venom’s grip on you loosened in shock, and you uncoordinatedly shoved yourself out of his arms, twisting to land on your hands and knees on the roof, landing with a grunt. He stood there, dumbly, eyes as wide as you’d ever seen, as you twisted your right arm back, fingers seeking the knife that was still in your back.

“…get it out…” you wheezed, your healing body struggling to repair the damage that the still present blade was creating. Your lung couldn’t reinflate with the intrusion in it, and you fought for breath, even as your heart beat rapidly, trying to send enough nutrients to mending flesh. “Venom…. take it the fuck out, please!”

Your pained cry finally jolted him out of his shock, his form dropping to one knee next to you as he gripped the knife by it’s handle. You felt the blade grate against rib and slice through newly healed flesh as he pulled it out, and finally, finally, you managed to take in a deep breath, coughing as your collapsed lung reinflated.

Dimly, you were aware of Venom staring at the skin of your back in a stunned awe as the skin knit itself back together. You waited until the unnerving sensation of your insides rebuilding and regrowing settled before sighing and slowly, stiffly, pushing yourself up until you were on your knees.

“So…” you started dumbly, avoiding Venom’s stunned gaze as you used the collar of your shirt to wipe blood from your mouth. “Questions? Comments? Yelling?”

None of those options applied. Instead, Venom grabbed you and hauled you into a crushing hug, arms tight around you as he buried his face into your hair.

You returned the embrace as best you could, your back protesting as he held you tighter in response. “Okay, o-okay, take it easy, I’m still healing…”

His grip on you loosened a little, taloned hands coming to rest on your shoulders as he leaned back to meet your gaze. “HOW?”

A grimace flit across your features. “I’m a mutant. I, um…. My body heals any damage it gets. If I get killed, I just… kinda, reset, like some goddamn computer. Everything goes away, and I think, maybe, I really do die - for a moment anyway -  and then… bam! I’m back and everything’s healing.”

“MORSEL…” One large hand rose to cup the side of your face as Venom leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US?”

“Because I’m a mutant. You know the rap mutants get. And… I’m… I don’t get sick, I heal from everything… and I don’t age the same way.”

He pulled back, curious. “AND THAT SHOULD BOTHER US, WHY?”

“Because I’m older than I said I was,” you admitted haltingly, glancing away. “I’ve been alive for a long time. And… I told myself that I’d never get involved with anyone again - it hurts too much to outlive them - but Eddie… and you… I couldn’t help it. I fell in love with you two so fast that it still scares me. And maybe you’d be okay with me being a mutant, but–”

Venom tilted his head, and you knew, knew, that Eddie was as hyper-focused on you as Venom was. “BUT?”

Fuck it. “I’m a hundred and sixty three years old.”

He blinked. Actually blinked.

You winced in the ensuing silence, certain that you’d just lost both of them, only to jerk your head up to stare at Venom in shock when he rumbled a laugh.

“EDDIE SAYS YOU’RE ‘ROBBING THE CRADLE’.” Venom told you with a smirk, and you felt your face heat with a blush. “ALSO, THAT HE HAS NO PROBLEM DATING AN ‘OLDER WOMAN’. AS FOR US, NIBBLE… WE’RE OLDER THAN THIS CITY BY A THOUSAND YEARS. A HUNDRED AND SIXTY IS YOUNG.”

Goddamn aliens. You hadn’t thought about that. “So… you’re not going to leave?”

Another laugh left him as he pulled you into another hug, and if you were a little weepy, he wisely didn’t comment. “YOU’RE STILL STUCK WITH US, LITTLE ONE. THOUGH, EDDIE HAS ENDLESS QUESTIONS.”

“Can I answer them back home? I feel kinda gross.”

“THE NEST IT IS.”

“…I love you.”

“AND WE LOVE YOU, MORSEL. BUT, PLEASE, DON’T EVER SCARE US LIKE THAT AGAIN.”

“I can’t die, Venom. I’ll always heal.”

His grip on you tightened, tendrils lashing out to curl around you as he rose to his feet, cradling you in his arms. “DOESN’T MEAN WE ENJOY SEEING IT.”

You reached up to wind your arms around his neck, pecking him on the cheek. You would have kissed him, but you still tasted blood on your tongue, and doubted he’d enjoy the sharp reminder of you choking on your own blood. “Okay.”

[ghostofviperwrites]

Just One Night

Requested by @dawnie39uk

Pairing:  Pentagon/FC/Fenix

Category:   Smut

Word Count: 1710

Warnings: semi-public sex, threesome, language

26.          “I love the way you look when you’re on top of me” - One Night Stand by Divide the Day

I want to take you home

I want to feel what I can’t see

I love the way you look when you’re on top of me

Nice and easy.  Fenix didn’t even have to expend any of his signature charm to get in your pants.  The moment he had walked into the club and caught site of you, Fenix knew you were his.  Your eyes had widened and you stared at him, eyes trailing over his lithe form as if undressing him where he stood.  He didn’t get more than twenty feet inside the club, flashing you a killer smile and beckoning you to his side. 

As you strode towards him it was his turn to mentally strip you, picturing what was hidden beneath that fire engine red minidress you were poured into.  He ran the tip of his tongue over his lips as he stared at your tits watching them sway beneath your dress as you got closer. 

Once names were exchanged Fenix grabbed you by the hand and led you out of the club heading towards the rental truck he and Pentagon had for the weekend.     

In the back of my truck

Sweat drippin’ and I can’t breathe

You always build me up and then you take me down

Handing you up into the back seat Fenix grinned as you slid across the bench seat, leaning against the opposite door and spreading your legs giving him a nice view of your matching red panties. 

“Pretty as those are, why don’t you take them off.  You aren’t going to need them.”  Fenix said as he climbed into the truck, slamming the door shut behind him and working his jeans down to his ankles. 

“Climb on.”  He said gesturing to his hard cock jutting between his thighs, hard and ready for your warm pussy to sink onto.  Sliding your dress up over your hips you pushed your panties off and straddled his lap.  Fenix grabbed the back of your head, bringing your mouth to his in a passionate kiss that quickly had you both breathing heavily.  Fenix rubbed the head of his cock through your slit as you writhed on top of him, moaning into his mouth when he finally pushed into your warmth. 

Sinking onto his length you grabbed Fenix’s shoulders as the kiss broke, rolling your hips in his lap.  Fenix rested his hands on your hips, urging you to bounce on his dick as he kissed down your neck, stopping and sucking hard on the flesh as he moved down to your collar bone.  You ground down on him as he lifted his hips to meet your movements, pants filling the cabin of the truck.  One hand leaving your hip Fenix pressed a thick finger into your folds, letting your movements rub it along your slit and pressing hard as your clit contacted the digit. 

Biting your lip you bore down on Fenix’s dick, crying out loudly as he fucked you towards climax his mouth biting into your tender skin as his hand gripped your hip.  With a growl Fenix ripped his finger from between your bodies and grabbed both hips tightly lifting you up and slamming you down on his cock as sweat trickled out from beneath his mask. 

It’s just a one night stand

I like it when you want it again

You know I like you cause you’re crazy

I love the way you tease me

Right or wrong!

You cried out as your orgasm rocked through you, whimpering at the aftershocks, you head falling into the crook of Fenix’s shoulder as he relentlessly slammed into you.  You felt like you were going to explode with all the feelings rushing through your body and all you wanted was more.   Thus you whimpered with disappointment when Fenix lifted you off his cock and set you on your knees on the floorboards.  Stroking his cock he pressed it to your lips, moaning as your moist mouth engulfed him.  Bobbing along his length you sucked hard swirling your tongue as he slid into the back of your throat and released his seed. 

Fenix grinned down at you as he watched you swallow, seeing the burning need lighting a fire in your eyes.  Reaching for your hair he gently tugged until you had climbed up and settled on his lap. 

“Greedy girl,” He said brushing his thumbs over your nipple through your dress, smirking as you arched into his touch.  “You want more, don’t you?”  You nodded frantically, rolling your hips against him as you sought contact.  

“Please,” You beseeched with pleading eyes focused on his which were filled with amusement.  “Once wasn’t enough. I need you inside me again.” 

For several long moments Fenix stared back at you in silence, his long nimble fingers teasing your nipples as he considered your request.  You whined when he lifted you off his lap and pulled up his pants and slid across the seat to open the door gesturing for you to follow him out.  Pushing your dress down you followed him slowly, lower lip jutted in a pout as it seemed the ache between your thighs wasn’t going to be satisfied. 

“My brother is back at the hotel.”  Fenix said unexpectedly.  “If I take you back there he’s going to want to play with you too.”  He looked at you expectantly.  “Are you willing to play with both of us? Let us do whatever we want to you?  The choice is yours.  You get in this truck then you’re ours.”   He stepped to the passenger’s door and opened it wide waiting for your decision. 

You hesitated for the barest of seconds before climbing into the truck, Fenix closing the door behind you and making his way to the driver’s seat. There was no way you were passing up the opportunity to be with both of the Lucha Brothers. 

It’s just a one night stand

I can’t get you out of my head

You know I’m feeling kinda sleazy

You make it seem so easy

Right or wrong!

As soon as you stepped through the hotel room door you froze, finding yourself pinned with a stare that sent chills through your body.  There was none of Fenix’s mischievous light in Pentagon’s eyes.  Just darkness that stared a hole through you.  

“Go suck my brother.”  Fenix said clapping a hand on your shoulder and giving you a not so gentle push in Penta’s direction.  You stumbled a few steps before regaining your footing and pasting on a confident smile.  Hips swaying you stripped off your dress as you approached Pentagon who was still staring intently at you.

Crawling up the bed towards him you reached for his waistband only to find your wrist caught in your grips. 

“Don’t touch me.”  He snapped.  “Hands behind your back.”  Warily following his instructions you swallowed heavily as he knelt and pulled his cock free from his sweatpants.  Stroking it to full hardness Pentagon pulled your head to the tip of his cock by the hair.  “Open.”

Obediently your mouth opened to meet Penta’s thrust as he buried his cock in the back of your throat with no warning making you gag around him, struggling to balance with your hands clasped behind your back.   You could hear Fenix undressing behind you, then the bed dipping under his weight as Pentagon continued jackhammering your mouth making drool fall onto the bedspread as he repeatedly gagged you.  

You yelped around his cock when Fenix brought his palm down on your ass with a firm smack, one of his hands grabbing your wrists as he pressed the head of his cock into your pussy.   Thrusting in Fenix pulled on your arms making you arch and opening your throat further for Penta’s use. 

Another whelp as Pentagon dragged his fingernails along your back, leaving red welts in their wake, sneering down at you as you looked at him with watery eyes. 

“Give me her pussy.”  Pentagon snapped at Fenix pulling free of your mouth while Fenix withdrew from your pussy.  Releasing your arms Fenix ordered you to spin around, immediately sliding himself into your mouth when you were in position.  Pentagon lined his cock up with your opening and took as much care as he did with your mouth, immediately bottoming out inside you as he dug his fingernails into your flesh.  

The two luchas worked you hard in-between them, sending pleasure coursing through your body as their contrasting styles had you buzzing.   Fenix’s hands on your tits teased your nipples into achy peaks while Pentagon’s thick cock hit you deep inside driving you towards the brink.    You quickly realized you had no role to play here, the boys knew exactly what they wanted, pushing and pulling you in whatever direction they wanted like a well-oiled machine. 

You lost count of the number of positions they took you in, flipping your body this way and that as they tore orgasms from you again and again, leaving you a weak limbed mess trembling on the mattress as they loomed over you, cocks in hand as they ejaculated onto your breasts and stomach.   Pentagon was the first to walk away, heading towards the bathroom and turning on the shower.  Grabbing a towel he threw it at you on the bed, then closed himself away. 

You felt awkward as you cleaned up, feeling Fenix’s eyes on you as you slipped on your dress and looked into the mirror, trying to clean yourself into something presentable. 

“Time to go little one.”  Fenix side rising to his feet and grabbing the truck keys.  “I’ll give you a ride home.” 

You smiled gratefully at him.  Honestly you had been expecting them to throw you into the hall and leave you to figure your own way home and you mentioned such to Fenix who chuckled enthusiastically. 

“Some nights.”  He admitted. “And if Penta had brought you here that would’ve been your fate for sure.  But I’m in a good mood and you behaved yourself, so the least I can do is give you a ride.”