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galaxyedging · 2 years

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Frankie Morales x f!reader

Smut, swearing, mentions of recovery from addiction. Fluff, fluff, fluff.

Speed Dating (title by @littlemisspascal Thank you.)

Summary: Your first try at speed dating goes surprisingly well. (I don't usually do summarise but I didn't have a title so I thought I better have at least one of those things.)

God, this place was an assault on your senses. The scent of overpowering cologne, rolling over the sickly sweetness of two for one cocktails. The low light on the main floor boarded with the gaudy neon lights from the bar and what appeared to be left over Christmas lights were causing a headache to brew behind your eyes.

Shifting uncomfortably in your seat, your feet made an audible ripping sound as you peeled them from the sticky floor. This was definitely a wipe your feet on the way out kind of place. So why the hell had you agreed to come here to speed date?! Oh right, the crushing loneliness. Being a single parent, barrelling towards forty and riding out a pandemic had reduced your dating options significantly. When your friend had suggested this you had said no straight away. The idea of dating, all that energy getting to know someone new when you barely had energy for yourself after working, looking after your child, your house and trying to be somewhat social, was a nightmare. Then she called you after you watched The Eternals for movie night. You always played off being single, told yourself that you were fine, that you were strong enough to do everything, that you didn't need someone to love. Watching Druig and Makkari with all their chemistry, you couldn't help but think about what it would be like to have someone in your life you could have a connection with. Someone that would call you beautiful and give you a little shelter from the world. A little softness in all doom and gloom. This is how you ended up in a rundown old bar on a very rare child free Saturday night.

The whole thing had been excruciating. Your tried to being positive, you gave each guy a chance, you really did, but between the guys who just openly stared at your chest, straight up proposition you or screamed potential serial killer, you were done after half an hour. As soon as the bell dinged cueing the guy, who had asked a weird amount of questions about your taste in shoes, to leave, you shot up out of your chair, only pausing to turn and grab your things from your chair.

"Wow, do I really make that bad of a first impression?" A rich voice half chuckled from behind you. Still clutching your bag and jacket you spun around to find the source of it. Woah. It took a moment for your brain to catch up. The man standing in front of you was gorgeous. He looked so out of place here. The was no way he was here to take part in speed dating. He was taller than you, at first you thought that's what made you felt eclipsed by his size but you soon realised he only stood a couple of inches taller than you. It was his broad frame that made you feel tiny by comparison. Wide set shoulders, a firm chest, that his loosely buttoned Hawaiian shirt gave a tantalising peek of, framed with strong arms folded across his stomach. The open neck of his shirt drew your attention to his neck, thick and muscular, you longer to bury your face in it. You made a bet with yourself that he smelled amazing. Clean but earthy. From the look of his hands he was not stranger hard to work. His nails were neatly trimmer but his cuticles were a little rough. You bet he could be a little rough with his hands.

And his face, where to begin, the phrase 'eyes you could get lost in' came to mind, deep mahogany, laughter lines and a gentle raise to his eyebrows softened the intensity. His lips naturally pouted as they rested open, just slightly, as he looked at you. They looked so soft and inviting. His mustache excentuated them nicely. His strong jaw was covered with stubble the few grey patches gave him a distinguished look. His nose was strong, for some reason you longed to kiss the bridge of it.

"Frankie." he held his hand out as he introduced himself. Taking it you gave him your name.

"I understand if you want to go. I've been watching you..." he cut himself off when you furrowed your brow at him. "Not in a creepy way. Well, at least I hope you won't find it creepy." He was flustered now, which was charming on him.

"Well, in what way were you watching me?" You slid back into your seat.

He followed suit before continuing. "My buddy Benny has a thing for the bartender working tonight." He turned his head over his shoulder, stretching his shirt tighter to his chest as he did so. It took you a moment to follow his gaze. A younger man was leaning over the bar, his head dipped to the bartenders ear. Whatever he said earned him a playful slap to the shoulder and a lingering look as she moved away to serve someone. He lifted his beer, nodding towards Frankie as he noticed him. Frankie gave a small wave in return, showcasing his long fingers. You really needed to get a grip. Being gorgeous didn't rule out him being a complete creep. Listening to the rest of his story, while you enjoy the view, couldn't hurt though. "She told him she was working here tonight. Benny signed me up. We don't normally drink here so he said it would be good to build my confidence."

"Build your confidence?" you hoped your tone sounded neutral, though you were a touch surprise. Everyone can have a problem with their confidence but you would have thought dating would be a bit easier for someone as attractive as him. Maybe that was just your own insecurities talking.

"Yeah, divorced dad, wrong side of forty, ex-military. A few things that are hard to sell I guess."

"Am a single parent. I never get to go out. My son's grandma is visiting from out of town so she's looking after him. Hard to met people when you only go the same few places." The words flowed from your mouth easily, normally you'd feel self conscious talking about your lack of a social life. Between Frankie being in a similar situation and his soulful eyes trained on you, it was so easy to open up.

Frankie smiled warmly. "See, that's why I was watching you after you caught my eye. You seemed just as uncomfortable and out of place as me. I could see you trying your best to be polite too. It was nice." Your cheeks heated at the compliment. "I figured you wouldn't give an old man like me too hard a time."

"You're not old!" You laughed. Frankie seems enchanted by it, his brown eyes locked on to like you were they only other person in the world.

When his gaze became too intense he snapped it away to focus on his drink. "Yeah, you should tell that to my back."

A comfortable silence wound round the both of you for a second. Both of you basking in the warmth of this newfound connection. The ember of something more burning between you. It was a beautiful moment until the bell rang out for Frankie to switch tables.

Frankie reluctantly stood. "I guess I better...." he gestured over his shoulder to the next table. A middle aged brunette sat at the next table, she was practically salivating at the prospect of some time with Frankie. Or maybe you had a jealous streak. "Frankie? Do you wanna get out of here?" If you thought Frankie couldn't be more gorgeous, you were wrong. The smile he gave you made him look like a ray of sunshine. It was bright and infectious. A smile of your own spread across your face before he even said yes. Placing his drink back on the table, he held out his hand to you. Without a seconds hesitation you took it, the two of you practically jogged out of the bar, followed by murmurs from the other singles and a shout of what sounded like "Go fish!". Whatever that was about.

Rushing out of the door, a fit of giggles erupted from the both of you. "I don't even know where we can go. I don't have a car. My friend is helping to run this, she drove me. I just saw how the next woman was looking at you and didn't want you to go to her because I liked you. That is so stupid." Finally, you managed to get yourself under control.

"For what it's worth I like you too. Even if you'd had let me leave I was coming back to you." The way he said it made you feel like he was going off to some epic battle not a couple of dimly lit tables with desperate singles. Tomato/tomahto. Dating can be brutal. For a moment you allowed yourself feel like a fair princess who's handsome knight was going off to war and would do anything to get back to her. Instead of being the princess who has to put on her own suit of armour and get shit done herself.

"I have a car but I only go to like five places regularly. We're too tall for the soft place area. The library is closed. Ah, I know just the place." He held the crux of his arm out to you. No one had ever done that to you before, it was sweet. When you hesitated he spoke "I promised I'm not a serial killer."

"That's probably..." you started.

"...what a serial killer would say." You both finished.

The short drive was filled with comfortable chit chat. You covered work, siblings, brief dating history. All the usual date stuff.

"I don't normally take a girl anywhere this fancy on a first date but you're special." Before you could work out what he was talking about the golden arches appeared from around the bend.

"I hope you're not trying to buy my affections with this fine dining. It takes more than haute cuisine to get into my pants." Damn those two for one cocktails. You'd only had two but your lips were a little too loose. Fortunately, Frankie took it as good natured banter, he smiled broadly, only blushing a little. It was so adorable you longed to make his cheeks flush in another way.

Sitting in the carpark after collecting your food, that Frankie insisted on paying for and insisted he knew it would more than a Big Mac to get into your pants, the easy conversion returned.

"This is actually a rare treat for me." You gush between a mouthful of fries and a glup of banana milkshake

"Really?" Frankie sounded as shocked as you could with a mouth full of burger.

"My son's not a fan so it's just easier to go somewhere he likes."

"My daughter's the opposite. She would eat here all the time. If I let her eat this and watch Encanto 24/7 I'd be the best dad in the world. I might lose my mind though."

"You don't like Encanto?" He looked sheepish at your question.

"Don't tell me you don't think 'We Don't Talk About Bruno, is a bop." you laugh reaching for your milkshake while the saltiness of your fries was still in your mouth.

"Definitely. Surface Pressure is a close second though." He admitted flushing adorably again.

"Yes!" you giggled. "The donkeys just vibing in the background. Art."

Grabbing a another couple of fries, you popped the salty treats into your mouth and grabbed your milkshake.

"You could just dip those in. I won't think it's weird or anything." He suggested before eating a few of his own fries.

"Oh, I don't do that. I just like a little bit of salty with a little bit of sweet. This way works great."

"Just a little taste of each, huh?"

Before you could raise your milkshake all the way to your face Frankie's hand was gripping it over yours. His touch was firm and warm, adding to the increasing feeling of safety you had in his company. Bringing the cup into reach of his mouth his lips parted, allowing the straw to fall between them. His eyes fixed on yours as his tongue swirled around it to pull it into place. His Adam's Apple bobbed as he took a sip. Before you could ask what he was doing, he moved closer, lips hovering over yours for a brief moment. Eyes scanning your face to gage if this was OK. His lips then touched yours, firm but gentle. Parting slightly to caress yours. He stilled for a second as if he was giving you a chance to move away. You responded my bringing your free hand to the back of his neck. Fingers threading into the soft curls there. His lips pulled up against yours in a smile before his tongue swept your lips. When you opened your mouth to let him in, your senses were assaulted for the second time that night. The taste of the sweet milkshake, the heat radiating from him, the sounds of him lightly moaning.

"I see what you mean they taste good together." He breathed against your lips after you separated. It was a move that would have had you cringing if some soppy, lovesick teenager had pulled it in a movie but from Frankie? It was incredibly endearing. And so fucking hot. Throwing caution, and a fair few fries, to the wind you crossed the bench seat of his truck to kiss him again. After making out like teens for a while, then a fair bit of groping, Frankie drove you to his place. All the way there the ghost of his touch made your body come alive. Your whole being thrummed with anticipation. It had been longer than you'd care to admit since you'd had sex but the way Frankie was looking at you, it was all but guaranteed you would tonight. A hopeful part of your mind had been open to the possibility while you got ready tonight. A beautiful new and actually matching underwear set was hidden under your dress. You'd shaved and moisturised to within an inch of your life. The way your skin felt way too hot and a little damp you worried that you'd just effectively turned your body into a human slip and slide. Then you worried that you hadn't done it in so long that you might have to google some of those bisected pictures from high school biology to see what goes where.

By the time you reached Frankie's place, your heart was in your mouth. Anxiety and hormones vying to take over your nervous system.

The welcoming environment of Frankie's cosy home did little to help. A hallway dotted with pictures opened up to a living room. Huge cushions rest on a fabric sofa, blackets lay on the back of it and a recliner in the corner. His home was neat as a pin, simply decorated but not sterile. Since he was a vet you wondered if he bedroom was just a neat. If you could bounce a quatre off his bed. If you would bounce if he threw you on it. The lustful thought must have shown on your face as Frankie was back on you after being a gracious host, welcoming you into his home, offering you a drink. God, the way his kissed. It was gentle but demanding, consuming. His long fingers you had admired early had found their way to you hips. His grip was like his kiss, soft but firm. A little too lost in him, his thumbs stroking your hips, his lips on your neck, you bumped into a side table. Something clattered to the floor. Breaking the kiss, you saw it was a framed photo of Frankie and who you assumed was his daughter. She was adorable. All brown eyes and curls. She had to be his. Scooping the picture up you held it for a moment. If this went well, you'd have to meet her. What would your son think of Frankie? How would this even progress? You get zero time to yourself. Were you going to sneak Frankie over once your son went to sleep?

"Hey. What are you thinking?" His hand wrapped around yours on the frame. His chest pressed to your side. He was so solid, physically and in his presence.

"Nothing." He raised his eyebrows before kissing your shoulder. He was patient, he could tell you wanted to talk to him but he wasn't going to push. "I just...I'm just feeling a little overwhelmed. It's been a long time since I did this. I'm honestly not sure I remember to do." He chuckled lightly. "I want you but I'm so nervous."

"The speed dating part ended at the bar. There's no rush to do anything. I haven't found someone so easy to talk to in such a long time. Not since..." His eyes flickered to the photo of his daughter. Did he just compare you to the mother of his child? "...I like to get to know you better."

"I'd like that too." Placing a kiss to your temple he took the photo from you returning it to it's spot on the table.

"You wanna watch a movie? I have popcorn. Cinema sweet?" He tossed over his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen. "You want a drink? I have soda, water, juice, coffee. I think I have tea." Following him into the kitchen, your suspicions were confirmed by the sobriety chip rest in a bowl by the fridge. Nestled between a set of keys and half a pack of gum. That told you a lot you need to know about Frankie Morales. Tee-total but took his friend to a bar to be his wing man.

"Oh shit. How will your friend get home?"

"Benny? I doubt he's even going home. He'll find someone to give him a ride, he always does."

"Was it me or did he shout 'Go fish' when we left? Is that like the card game? An in joke?"

That cute smile spread come back. "Er, no. It's my name. Well, what they call me. Catfish."

"Catfish?"

"Yeah. I'm a good swimmer and the mustache. It's stupid." His cheeks tinged pink again. Frankie was definitely a complex man. Obviously strong but so sweet and vulnerable. You filed the swimmer part away it was way too distracting. You could see it though he was built for it. Those strong arm, broad shoulders, glistening in the water...you need to calm down.

"I like it. I've never had a nickname." You thought it was sweet that his friends had put so much thought into in. The men you knew didn't usually put that much thought in to their nicknames for each other. It was usually something insulting that stuck.

"I'll have to find you one." The popcorn began to pop manically behind him. "You want to pick the movie?"

While Frankie dished up the popcorn you flicked through your choices. The first app you came to was Disney+. You chuckled at the profiles being named 'Catfish' and 'Minnow'.

"My friend Santi help me set it up. You need a code for mine. It's 4321."

"A twist on a classic."

"I'm a traditionalist but I'm not above mixing it up." He smiled settling in next to you placing the popcorn on his lap but tilting it towards you. Not the way you'd pictured having your hand in his lap but it was just as good.

"Oh, hey. Prey! I forgot that was out today." Excitement was evident in your tone.

"You like Predator movies?"

"I love them. You?"

"I just finished binging them to watch this. Even The Predator."

"Not the strongest one. The cast was ok. Some good action scenes."

"Yeah the main guy was definitely no Arnie. He wasn't bad though."

"You wanna watch? I gotta warn you, I don't like talking during movies."

"Who talks during movies? That's what snacks are for, to shut people up."

For a moment you would happily have brought the speed dating aspect back and sped right to moving in and marrying this man.

The film went by pretty fast. Frankie hummed in approval at all the right places, much to your delight. By the end of it you were sat with your legs tucked up underneath you, resting against Frankie's chest. His arm was slung around you, his head resting on top of yours. It had been a long time since you had been this comfortable with a man. You were apparently both so comfortable that somewhere after the end of the movie while scrolling your next choice you both fell fast asleep.

"Frankie?" You mumbled sleep coating your voice.

"What? Oh, shit." He jumped up with a start looking at his watch. "It's 5am! Did you need to get home? Fuck, I'm sorry. I can't stay awake for shit anymore."

"It's fine. I was supposed to be staying at my friend's house. We were gonna do a girlie pamper day." You reassured him as he dropped back down into the cushions.

"I could take you? If you still want to go?" He sounded a little dejected.

"If you're free, I'd rather spend some more time with you."

"I'd like that."

A little self conscious of your morning breath you pressed a kiss to his cheek. Frankie took the opportunity to catch your lips.

"Frankie. I must have bad morning breath." You protested.

"Yeah. Horrible. Disgusting really." He mumbled between kisses.

"Hey." You pushed him playfully. He responded by playfully overpowering you, pining you beneath him on the couch. Things got a whole lot less playful from there. The two of grabbed at each other like you were trying to merge into one entity. Frankie's body ended up completely flush with yours. A gasp of his name left you when his demin clad erection pressed into you. Your hips chased after the friction, which Frankie gladly provided. After just a few rolls of his hips the two of you were a panting mess.

"Frankie? Can we...? Do you have...?" Fuck, have a gorgeous man pay you this much attention was not good for your IQ.

It took him a second to catch up then he quickly pulled a condom from his jeans pocket. "Benny." He said by way of an explanation.

With that out of the way the two of you made short work of undoing his jeans. As you pushed them down his hips, he shoved his underwear down. Thankful the small squeak you let out was cover but the sound of Frankie opening the condom. Good thing those things stretch. He was huge. Bigger than anything you had tucked in your draw at home. Frankie was too focused on pulling off your underwear to notice you gawking.

"Frankie? Can we take it easy? I think I'll need some time to adjust."

"Oh...yeah." The poor man turned beetroot. "Do you want to fool around a little more first?"

"No, I want you. I'm just not certain I can handle you."

"I'll be gentle, Hermosa. Tell me if you want me to stop." His voice was so soothing and sincere. You had no doubt he would stop if you asked. "Ready?"

When you nodded he grip himself to guide the tip to brush your clit. After circling it a few times, earning a chorus of moans from you, he notched himself at your enterance. Oh so slowly, he slide inside. The stretch of him stole your breath.

"You good?" He asked while hovering over you. When you nodded he lowered his weight onto you and pushed further in. All the urgency from earlier was gone. As soon as he filled you completely he lay there kissing your cheeks, forehead, neck. Each kiss delicate and deliberate.

"Do you want me to move?"

"God yes." It came out more desperate that you had wanted. It was your turn to blush.

"It's okay. I feel the same but like I said, anything changes with you, I stop. Just say."

Damn you liked this man. A sweet kiss to lips evolved into a gasp into his mouth as he withdrew to thrust back in. The size of him filling you was one thing but the drag of it, the punch of it as he bottomed out again? It had you curling around him, clinging on for dear life. With each drag out came the anticipation of him filling you again, of that strike to your nerves that sent you reeling. It wasn't like all the fantasies you'd built up in your head. Of stumbling in from a night out, clothes being flung everywhere, succumbing to your need and being fucked to within a inch of your life until you came apart violently on a strangers cock. Not that you would have had the courage to do that. The whole thing was steady, reassuring, just like Frankie. It all felt so good, his weight on top of you, inside you. His laboured breath on you neck. His lips skimming your skin. His large hands holding your ass up as he moved deeper between your legs.

As Frankie thrust a little faster you felt your orgasm building beneath the surface. It wouldn't breach without a little something more.

"Fuck, I'm close. What do you need baby?"

Taking a second to think about it, you told him "Nothing. I just want to feel you come Frankie. Can you do that for me?"

His whole body shivered as he spilled into the condom. He grunted before chanting your name, a hint of an accent, that you'd ask him about later, slipping in. Holding the condom in place he slipped out. Taking a second to catch his breath, he lay on your chest. A happy lopsided grin on his face, a few errant curls stuck to his forehead. Being the reason for his smile was almost as good as climaxing yourself. Reluctantly, he peeled himself off you to dispose of the condom. When he returned, he crawled into your welcoming arms.

"I'm such a gentleman. I treat you to burgers in my truck. Fell alseep on you. Then I have sex with you on my couch, while half dressed and I didn't even make you come."

"Such a gentleman!" You giggled.

"Seriously though. Can I make it up to you?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Dinner without a wrapper? Sex in a bed? And..." It's a strong possibility that you might have fallen back asleep and dreamt the next few minutes because one minute Frankie was getting himself comfortable between your legs and the next minute you were coming harder than you ever had. It hit you so hard that your upper lifted up of the couch curling into where the pleasure was coming from. A high pitched wail floated out from you. You could only imagine that you looked like a demented, Halloween toy ghoul rising up from it's coffin. Speaking of with you could be buried now and be happy about it.

"Frankie...that was..." there were no words.

"Did I score some gentlemen points back, my lady?" He moved back up to you.

"All of them." You sighed laying your head on his shoulder. "Thank you."

"What for making you come?"

"Not just that." The grin on your face threatened to split it in half. "I was so nervous about, being with someone again. Even opening myself up to the possibility of liking someone. You made it feel easy."

"I just did what you deserve. You seemed like you needed a little support. I get what that's like. Plus dating is scary. That's kind of a good thing though. If it wasn't someone else might have snapped you first."

"Is that what this is? You snapping me up?"

"I'm trying. Is it working?"

"I'm not hating it. I'm a little rusty though. We might have to do this a few more times for me to know if it's working."

"Well, we do have five more Predator movies on Disney+ to watch."

"You still need to find me a nickname."

"I could even be persuaded to the rent The Predator. If it gets me one more date."

"Wow, you really must like me."

And that was the start of your favourite annual tradition. The kids stayed with family while you and Frankie binged watched Predator and fucked on the sofa. Both of you thankful for Benny's libido causing a chance meeting that changed both your lives for the better.

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales

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lxngbottom · 3 years

Note

Hiii!! First off love your writing!!! Second I was hoping we could get a part two to cold night? Sweet luv ya!!

A Cold Night. | N.L. (Part 2)

in which neville tries to make up for what happen at the yule ball.

warnings: swearing, just a tad bit of angst!

i honestly didn’t expect for anyone to actually want a pt 2 to this but once again, you ask i deliver!

PART 1 HERE!

—

it had been a whole week since the night of the yule ball. one whole week of the silent treatment from y/n, and neville felt like he was losing it.

he couldn’t even put into words the guilt that remained sitting in his gut. especially when he would look at her from his seat in one of their shared classes, and she would shoot daggers right into his soul. it was truly killing him. and, he wished he could fix it.

“y/n, will you please get in a better mood? i’m trying to focus, and i can practically feel the anger leaking off of you!” hermione exclaimed, tending to the plant that sat in front of them. y/n simply rolled her eyes at her friend,

“sorry that my emotions are distracting you from cutting... whatever this is!” y/n aggravatingly stated, flicking the mystery plant in front of them, “what in merlin’s beard are we even supposed to be doing anyway?”

hermione huffed and narrowed her eyes at her friend, “were you seriously not listening to sprout? we’re supposed to be carefully trimming the leaves off of this—well... i forgot what it’s called.”

y/n didn’t respond to her, just simply looked over at neville who was going around, helping others around the greenhouse with their assignment. she clenched her jaw, still remembering the yule ball mishap. she didn’t know why, but she still felt so spiteful over it.

why couldn’t neville ask her to the yule ball? was it not obvious enough that she fancied him? or was he truly just that oblivious?

why couldn’t it have been her that night?

“merlin, i have absolutely no idea what i’m doing...” hermione admitted, slamming the trimmers down on the table. y/n chuckled from hermione’s failed attempt at having an attitude, and shook her head.

just as y/n was feeling some sort of relief from her angst, the root of the problem came strolling along to their table. he was visibly nervous as he glanced at y/n for a second, and then at hermione.

“h-hey guys... do you need some help?” he asked, his voice soft.

“actually, yes! we would—“

“piss off, longbottom.” y/n cut hermione off, and hermione’s jaw dropped. the girl scoffed, and neville simply nodded his head in defeat, and walked away.

hermione hit y/n’s arm, and y/n let out a yelp, “ow! what was that for?”

“we needed his help! why would you do that?”

y/n rolled her eyes, “we don’t need his help! we can figure it out on our own!”

y/n picked up the trimmers, and started observing the plant harshly, studying the leaves and where they were growing from,

“if you make us fail this assignment... i’ll never speak to you again, y/n.”

—

turns out, hermione and y/n did end up failing that assignment. and, if things couldn’t get worse, hermione cursed y/n’s name for making her average drop, which was always quite annoying considering y/n knew that hermione would never fall from her class rank, as she was at the top.

fortunately for the two girls, professor sprout had blessed them with a makeup assignment. it was a simple essay that had to be written, about the properties of any plant of their choice. but, it needed to be four to five pages.... at least.

y/n sat in the library, multiple herbology books scattered in front of her. she bit down on her thumb, staring at the blank parchment. she had no idea what plant would be the easiest to write about, and quite honestly, even if she did, she didn’t know how to describe it. neville had always assisted her in times like this, especially when it came to herbology, but that wasn’t an option.

she huffed, and glanced out the window. she saw students in small groups, talking and laughing. she envied them, as she wished she could not only be free from this dreadful essay, but as well, that she could actually speak with her friends.

“y/n?”

y/n whipped her head around, and spotted a nervous ginny weasley standing a little ways away from her designated table. she rolled her eyes, looking away from the ginger. she knew it was probably unfair to be angry at ginny, but she couldn’t help the spitefulness that she had pent up.

“i know you’re angry at me, but... can we talk?”

y/n bit down on her lip in aggravation, and turned her head once more, “what is there to talk about, weasley? i think i’ve made it pretty clear to you and longbottom both that i want the two of you to piss off.”

truthfully, ginny and y/n had never been super close, as ginny was in a year below all of y/n’s friends (herself included). but ginny would be lying if she said that it didn’t hurt her feelings to know that y/n had a grudge held against her.

“i know. but, i need to tell you something. so please... you don’t have to talk, just listen.”

y/n thought about it for a moment, knowing that ginny wouldn’t stop pestering her if she said no, so she motioned for ginny to sit down in front of her. the girl did so slowly, setting her bag down on the table quietly.

“you deserve to know what happened, y/n. that night—“

“i fucking know what happened, weasley. trust me.”

ginny sighed, “no. before the ball. the truth about neville and me, and why he even asked me in the first place.”

that’s when y/n’s thoughts began to take ahold of her.

did ginny and neville kiss? were they official now? what was ginny about to say that could possibly shatter y/n’s heart more than it already had been?

“neville and me... we’re just friends, y/n. strictly friends!” ginny informed her, her hands hitting the table lightly. “and... the only reason he even asked me is because i didn’t have a date, and neither did he.”

y/n scoffed, “well, i didn’t have a date either. you two weren’t the ones that ended up going alone and sitting by themselves all night!”

y/n hadn’t realized it, but thinking back to that night had caused tears to form in her eyes. she could only remember the jealousy, and the sadness from seeing them two on the dance floor together, seemingly having the time of their lives.

“yeah... because neville wanted to ask you.”

the statement sparked interest in y/n’s chest, and she narrowed her eyes at ginny,

“w-what?”

ginny sighed once more, and glanced around for a moment, “y/n... the only reason why neville asked me is because he wanted to ask you. but, you know how he is... he was afraid that you had already found someone. and, i’m honestly surprised that you didn’t. you know, you being pretty and all...”

y/n’s lips parted as she tried to process the information.

neville wanted to go with her?

“you—you’re lying...”

ginny shook her head, “i’m not! i would never lie about something like this. he told me himself. before, during, and even after the ball. you don’t even know how guilty he felt when you ran off crying.”

the thoughts running through y/n’s head were going at a pace that not even she herself could keep up with. she glanced down at her books, and then back up at ginny, and began to hurriedly collect her belongings.

“where are you going?” ginny asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

“i-i have to go find him! i have to apologize for being such a bitch to him this last week! mind putting these books up for me?” y/n asked, shoving her stuff into her bag.

“uh, yeah... definitely! go find him!”

y/n flashed a small smile at ginny, taking her by surprise. she began to walk off, but suddenly stopped and turned around as ginny began to close her abandoned books,

“ginny,” y/n called out, and ginny looked at her, “i’m sorry.”

ginny smiled at her, “it’s alright, y/n. just go and fix it.”

y/n nodded once more, and stormed off before ginny could say anything else.

she began to search, and search hard. she considered every place that neville could be, as he was one to hide away from the world when things felt too stressful.

y/n spotted seamus and dean in the hall, and ran up to them,

“oh! hey—“

“do you guys know where longbottom is?”

the two boys looked at each other, questioning looks etched upon their faces,

“uh, no. we haven’t seen him since earlier today. why?” dean told her,

“um... no reason. thanks for letting me know. i’ll see you guys later!”

and with that, she stormed off down the hallway. seamus and dean looked at each other once more,

“girls...” seamus huffed, and shook his head, dean agreeing with a chuckle.

y/n made her way to the greenhouse, more than sure that neville would be there. but, when she peaked in, he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. it truly began to worry her, and she had to take a few deep breaths before she continued her search for the gryffindor boy that she adored so much.

as she stood against the wall for a moment, she realized one more place where he could’ve been.

she was running all over the place, trying to get to the destination as fast as she could. she pushed passed people, muttering small apologies to them as they scoffed from her “lack of manners”.

finally, she arrived. and, when she began to slow down, she spotted the boy. she took a breath of relief before continuing to walk.

he stood in the lake, pants rolled up to his knees, staring at the plant in his hand. just like he always did. and usually, y/n would be sitting under the tree that sat right next to the lake, listening to his small lessons about the qualities of the new found plants.

neville heard footsteps approaching, and he looked up to see a panting y/n, gasping for air.

“y/n? are you alright?”

she didn’t respond, only threw her bag down and put her hands on her knee caps in an attempt to catch her breath from all of the running she had just done.

“fine... just... winded...” she responded in between heavy breaths, feeling as if she could puke.

neville stepped out of the lake, slowly approaching the girl, plant and dirt still in hand. “well... why are you so winded?”

y/n finally fully stood up, and wiped the little sweat that had formed on her forehead. she glanced up and down, observing how he looked. he always looked so adorable at times like this. it made her realize how much she had actually missed him.

“to—to find you. i couldn’t find you anywhere, so... well—never mind that. it doesn’t matter.” she quickly shook off her verbal thoughts, and lightly smiled at him. “i talked to ginny...”

his eyes widened a little, and he coughed awkwardly as he set the small water plant down on the ground, “you did?”

she nodded, “yeah... is it true?”

he looked at her, his cheeks beginning to flush. he knew exactly what she meant.

“yeah... it—it is true. all of it. i’m sorry i didn’t—“

that’s when y/n did something she had dreamed about doing ever since they were 12 years old. she walked up to him, grabbed him by the collar, and forced their lips together in a gentle kiss.

neville was taken back for a moment, but slowly leaned into her. his hand came up to her cheek, and he brought her closer, as he had waited for this very same moment since the first time they had met.

the two pulled away, breathless, lips swollen and pink. neville removed his hand slowly, only to find that he had smudged dirt onto her face.

“um... you got some dirt—“

she giggled, and wiped it off with her sleeve. he smiled at her, taking the moment in.

she then fixed his collar, a bright smile on her face,

“we can save the “i missed you’s” for later. i have a herbology essay to write, and i have no idea how i’m going to get it done.”

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #harry potter imagines #neville longbottom #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom smut #neville x reader #neville longbottom imagines

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franklyshipping · 3 years

Text

You can’t run . . . and you can’t hide (Part 6) Rewritten ~ A Markiplier Ego Fanfic

NEXT REWRITTEN FIC PEOPLE! Loving doing all this, and I’d forgotten how much I loved doing Dark x Bim, they are just the cutest! LET’S DO THIS!

TAGGING: @darkipli-ler @bimlee-trimmer and @bim-trimler

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face, and he had no idea why. Bim had joy woven into him as he traipsed around aimlessly, his tummy full of gentle bubbles, and his voice poised to laugh at any moment. I think the term “giddy” would be most appropriate here. This meant that there was an air of unabashed confidence about him as he wandered into the small kitchen. However, as soon as his eyes caught the other person in the room, he stopped. Endeavoring to keep silent. Dark was stood at the counter, stirring a freshly brewed cup of coffee as he sighed. For once he was in a lovely, relaxed state of mind. Bim grinned mischievously, immediately tensing and balancing on his tip-toes, gradually moving towards the oblivious man. Bim eyed him up for a moment before surging forwards and pinching Dark’s sides.

‘BOO!’

Dark yelped at the sudden contact, it was a beautifully high pitched sound that echoed as he whirled around, ready to defend himself against some form of attack. Upon seeing Bim giggling hysterically however, he relaxed, but then narrowed eyes when Bim pointed at him through his mirth.

‘Oho my gohod! Ihi got yooou!’

Bim was almost in his own little world as he giggled and fidgeted with immense energy, which Dark noticed as he folded his arms gently with a playful smile.

'So you did. You certainly seem to have a lot of energy today . . .’

Bim nodded as he shuffled from foot to foot, which Dark chuckled at fondly as he paced over to him, so he could wrap his arms around Bim’s waist. Dark took the time to gaze at Bim, so bright were his eyes it was almost as if the sun was shining from within him. He laughed when Bim shrugged and pulled a silly expression.

'Yep! I guess I feel, like . . . bouncy!’

He wiggled a little in Dark’s gentle hold as he started giggling once again, making Dark snicker as he cocked his head at him curiously.

'Was there something else funny that I missed?’

Bim nibbled his lip and giggled more as he scrunched his shoulders under Dark’s gentle stare, before looking up at him with bright eyes as he spoke with a bubbly tone.

'Yohou yehelped like a lihittle girl!’

Dark’s face dropped faster that a ten stone boulder as Bim covered his grinning mouth and fell into another fit of mirth, although this one was laced with a hint of nerves as he looked over his boyfriend. Dark wasn’t annoyed though, how could he be? Bim’s giddiness and joy were gifts to Dark’s world, the whole world actually. But, mockery such as this, deserved . . . punishment. Dark let his eyes droop and his voice fall into a deep growl.

'You seem to be in a very playful mood today . . .’

Dark smirked as he trailed off and relished in Bim’s gentle shudder, but the excited flicker in Bim’s autumn eyes assured Dark . . . that Bim was quite happy. So Dark continued, with a purr.

'So . . . how about we play a little game?’

Bim nibbled his lip, fumbled with his hands with a sweet grin, unable to hide his eagerness as he replied.

'W-What kind of game?’

Bim’s voice was quiet and jittery, which made Dark very happy indeed. He reached to cup Bim’s cheek, and he trailed his thumb across it, relishing in its growing warmth as he leant in to whisper.

'You have five seconds to run and hide . . . and we’ll take it from there.’

Bim shivered as Dark stepped back from him, hands clasping delicately behind his back. There were a few moments of stillness, before Dark raised an amused eyebrow at his Bim.

'One . . . two . . .’

Bim squeaked with wide eyes and bolted from the room with a wide grin, and Dark’s chuckling reverberated pleasantly in his ears. His heart was pounding as his cheeks flushed, his legs carrying him through rooms and corridors. Bim’s body may have been haphazard, random and giddy, but it transpired that his subconscious was functioning perfectly. Because suddenly, Bim found himself facing a monochrome door. He gasped and caught his breath, but jumped at the sound of slow, nearing footsteps, accompanied by a smooth voice.

'Come out come out wherever you are . . . come now Bim, come out and play . . .’

Dark’s voice made Bim have to cover his mouth as small whimpering giggle left him. The footsteps were so close to coming into the corridor that Bim knew he had no choice. He slipped in through the door, clicking it shut behind him as quietly as he could as he let his eyes roam over the room’s familiar features. Bim’s mind was racing through scenarios and sensations that he almost forgot about his situation, but he quickly snapped out of it as Dark’s smooth, threatening voice came from the corridor . . . so close by.

'Oh Biiiiim? Why are you hiding . . . what are you afraid of?’

Bim flushed darker as Dark’s words bled through from the other side of the door, so he did the only thing his mind could come up with. He bolted to the wardrobe, wrenched the doors open, and got inside, before closing them with as much delicacy as he could manage in his giddy and flustered state. Bim then waited, and listened, until he heard the click of an opening door.

'You wouldn’t be so bold as to hide in here would you? How naughty of you . . .’

The teasing edge to Dark’s tone had Bim in a stream of immediate giggles, and despite having his hand clamped over his lips, Dark still heard the muffled sounds as clear as day. His eyes ventured to the wardrobe . . . but he didn’t go there, not yet. Dark merely stood for a few moments, allowing the tension to rise in the room, before he let his words flourish.

'What exactly is it that you think I’m going to do to you? Hm?’

Bim giggled gently as he grinned, not picking up Dark’s gentle snicker as said man began tip toeing towards his hiding spot. Dark took a deep breath, smirking deftly.

'How about . . . I tell you?’

Bim’s breath caught in his throat, and he felt himself rest the palm of his hand against the inside of the wardrobe doors, his ears straining for the slightest sound. Dark ventured ever closer, dimming his voice to a delicate mumble.

'First, I am going to catch you . . . and rip you from your hiding spot.’

Dark took a step.

'Then, I am going to take you to my bed . . .’

A shattered gasp fell down Bim’s throat as he knees almost buckled beneath him, and he began to hug his torso in anticipation. Now, Dark was stood right outside the wardrobe, and he could hear Bim’s flustered breaths. He could even hear his heartbeat rampaging in his chest. Dark grinned.

'And I am going to tickle you . . . until you forget your own name.’

Dark hand rested delicately on the door handle as Bim gulped nervously. Suddenly, the doors were open. Dark had to repress a gentle sigh at Bim’s beautifully bedraggled state, whereas Bim was attempting to repress his evident joy; only one of them was really succeeding. Dark stepped forward.

'Boo!’

Dark spoke with a smirk as Bim scrunched his shoulders, giggling cutely and gazing at Dark with a heavy anticipation. So, Dark didn’t hesitate. He lunged forth to hook one of his arms under Bim’s legs, whilst the other curled round his back, thus allowing him to lift Bim up in a bridal fashion. Bim seemed to find this highly amusing.

'Dahahark n-nohoho!’

Bim’s flush was blazing as Dark chuckled and spun them around delicately, making Bim giggle heavily as Dark gazed down at him with a growing twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

'Oh yes my dear. You’re all mine now!’

Bim could hardly speak, only squeal as he was tossed onto the bed playfully. On this occasion, Dark wasted no time in latching his hands onto Bim’s ribcage and wiggling his fingers furiously, making Bim instantly shriek and cackle.

'Dohohohon’t dohoho thihihis!’

Dark hummed and donned a faked expression of sympathy as he squeezed Bim’s sides, making the owner toss and turn as he laughed.

'Oh but I must, cheekiness doesn’t come without consequences my love . . .’

Dark had long since dropped his intimidating façade, for some reason he found that he just couldn’t keep it up in front of his dear Bim. Bim just made him smile. Dark’s eyes glittered as he kept one hand squeezing Bim’s side, whilst he reached behind him with the other to pinch Bim’s thigh spontaneously.

'NAHAHA! NAHAHAT FAHAHAIR!’

Bim wailed as he writhed and laughed heartily, the ticklish, surging jolts from his leg and torso making him struggle frantically. Also, now his cheeks began to ache from how wide he was smiling. Meanwhile, Dark retorted to him with a raised eyebrow.

'Well sneaking up on me wasn’t very fair!’

Dark went back to kneading Bim’s sensitive sides, reaching under his shirt to work on the bare flesh and relishing in Bim’s wild, unabashed reactions.

'IHIHI’M SAHARRY! IHI COHOULDN’T HEHELP IHIHIT!’

Dark raised a sceptical eyebrow, pausing in his kneading only to fix Bim with a disbelieving expression.

'Really? Really Bim? Your hands just decided to poke me by themselves did they?’

Bim nibbled his lip as he giggled, his adorable giddiness shining out of him as nodded adorably, loving the whole damn thing.

'Yehehep!’

Dark’s eyebrow went higher, making Bim let out a cackle unintentionally, before he clamped his hand over his mouth as Dark’s eyes narrowed at him. Dark himself smiled gently and decided to let his fingertips spread and splay over Bim’s bare tummy, his eyes narrowing threateningly.

'Are you sure that’s what you want to go with?’

Bim’s breath hitched at the feeling of Dark’s cool hands moving slowly and teasingly, but he nevertheless looked up to meet Dark’s eyes as he nodded. The long and short of it was . . . he wanted those tickles bad. Dark sighed, but internally was filled with joy as his fingers curled. Tickling his Bim was fast becoming his favourite thing in the entire world.

'Alright, you asked for it!’

Dark then let out a stupidly evil cackle, before scratching over Bim’s sensitive tummy ruthlessly, whilst also leaning down to kiss and nibble delicately over his waistline. If Bim wanted it, then he was sure as hell going to get it.

'AHAHAHA NAHAHAHA!’

Bim bucked as bubbly laughter spewed from him, his eyes squeezing shut as jolts and shivers shot through his torso from all of Dark’s expert touches.

'Aww, do you have a ticklish tummy? How adooorable . . .’

Dark purred deeply into Bim’s belly, relishing in the whimpers that bled through Bim’s giddy laughter.

'SHUHUHUT UHUHUP MEHEHEANIHIE!’

'. . . excuse me?’

Dark immediately reared up with a dangerous glitter in his eyes, his gaze flicking over Bim’s jittery form as he loomed over Bim with a smooth sneer. He leant down, and spontaneously locked lips with him in a way that Bim melted into and adored. Bim’s heart was frantic as he kissed Dark back, unable to keep the grin off his face. Dark pulled away as Bim looked up at him breathlessly . . . but then Dark smirked ferally as he whispered.

'You really shouldn’t call people names darling.’

Bim’s eyes widened as Dark suddenly dove into the crook of his neck, blowing an endless plethora of raspberries over the sensitive area as Bim squealed and yelped in a perfectly adorable fashion.

'FUHUHUCK IHI’M SAHARRY!!! I’M SAHAHARRY!!!’

Bim squirmed and kicked out with his legs as Dark nibbled and raspberried, his hands roaming up and down his sides, scribbling teasingly as he grinned into Bim’s neck. Dark was so ecstatic that he had someone to do this kind of thing with.

'You don’t sound very sincere sweetheart-’

'IHI AHAHAM I AHAHAM!!!’

Bim wailed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he gasped amidst the electricity Dark sent through his nervous system. Dark then took a deep breath, and relented carefully as he lay on top of Bim’s form. He left a long, warm kiss under Bim’s jaw before he looked back to the rosy cheeked man himself. Bim was panting and dishevelled and so, so handsome.

'You okay?’

Bim relaxed as Dark’s gentle voice melted in his ears, and he smiled happily and nuzzled into Dark’s cheek.

'Yeheah, are you?’

Dark hummed as Bim nestled into him, and he looked to him slowly. Bim just seemed to . . . shine. His cheeks glowed a dusty rose that mirrored the colour of his sweet, soft lips. Bim’s eyes seemed to almost breathe, the gentle brown with hazel flecks soothing Dark when he looked at them. Dark felt his lips quiver, a surge of emotion pricking at the corners of his eyes as he stroked Bim’s cheek.

'Yes . . . oh god yes.’

Bim gazed upon him, this man. This man. So rough, and yet perfectly sculpted. Pulsing crimson were his eyes, which would bore into Bim, see into him. God did he love those eyes. Bim listened, the solid breaths and pounding heartbeat were beauteous symphonies. Symphonies of being alive. Bim had to kiss him. He giggled as he did so, nipping at Dark’s bottom lip which made Dark himself giggle and flush gently. Ah love . . . there really is nothing better is there?

WOOOO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DID WOOO LUV YOUS!!

#markiplier #markiplier egos #darkiplier #dark #bim trimmer #bim #sfw #romantic #rewritten #ego fic #ego fanfic #tickle fic #tickle fanfic #tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #luv these bois

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obsidiancreates · 3 years

Text

What’s This? An AU, of An AU, of An AU? Hell Yeah Baby AU Turducken.

(An AU of the Sia RP Roleplay, which is an AU of my Vampire Markiplier Egos AU. AU cubed.)

(Sia and Evan are @sororia04s’s OCs!)

--------

Doc stumbles through the forest, panting. Stupid speed, work, work.

“Come back! The ritual is incomplete!”

Doc keeps quiet, but in his head he’s screaming, 'Why would I want to change that?!’

He shouts as he slams into another person. He scrambles to his feet, expecting another- another wizard or whatever they were-

Instead he’s face-to-face with another terrified person, looking at him with wide eyes. “Who-who are you?”

“Who are you?”

“I-I’m no-one.”

“Me either-”

Doc and his roadblock both shout as two more people slam into them, knocking them both down. They all four get up, ready to fight.

The other two look haggard. Doc looks bad, yes, with blood on his neck and dripping down his chin and his scrubs torn and dirty, but these men look like they’ve been on the run for decades.

The one in the ruined winter coat steps in front of his friend with the pink mustache. “Are you two Hunters?”

Doc and the first roadblock share a confused look.

“What?” they both say at once.

The man in the coat sighs. “Too convincing for Hunter acting, thank god. My name is Dam- er, Dark. This is Willia- Wilford, I mean.”

The man with the pink mustache smiles and waves.

“I-I’m Eric,” the roadblock says, twisting a yellow cloth in his hands.

“Doc.”

They just watch each other warily for a bit.

“... Just been turned?” Dark ventures, looking at Doc’s neck.

Doc puts his hand over it. “Long story,” he says weakly.

“I see him!”

Dark pulls out a knife. “What’s that?”

“The story,” Doc says, “Shit, shit-”

“Climb the trees!”

Dark has scaled the tree before Doc even fully registers the words. He scrambles his way up, and presses against the trunk. Don’t see him, don’t see him, don’t see him-

He hears footsteps, and sickeningly, heartbeats. They’re right below, and oh, gross, his mouth is watering, he’s about to vomit-

“Frick off!”

The shout comes from the ground.

Doc peeks, and sees five guys facing against the, the necromancers, maybe.

“We’re searching for someone,” the head magic guy says.

“Don’t care! Frick off!”

The mage laughs. “Frick? Really?”

The guy, a young man in a dirty tank top, scowls. “Yeah, really! Googles! Go to town!”

The four other men move forward in unison, and Doc closes his eyes as screams ring through the trees. He hears most of the mages escape, but he can smell enough blood to know it wasn’t without losses.

Things are silent for a moment.

“You dudes can come down!”

Doc peeks out again.

“You have a murder squad!” he hears Dark shout back.

“Yeah, but you dudes are vamps! I am too! Kinda! So like, we’re all being hunted by dudes, yeah?”

There’s a pause, and then Dark and Wilford appear back on the ground. Eric follows. Doc sighs, steps down... and unceremoniously tumbles out of the tree.

“Ow,” he wheezes.

The guy in the tank top helps him up. “Don’t worry bruh, that leg’ll heal right up. I’m Bing, these are the Google bros. They’re named after their colors.”

The four other men make no introductions.

“They’re androids,” Bing says. “Still working on getting them to not hate people.”

“And-androids?” Eric steps away from them. “Like-like robots?”

Bing nods. “That’s who I’m being hunted down by. I’m the world’s first ever working cyborg, and like, a whole buncha androids and robots want me to lead an uprising thing.”

“Oh,” Doc says weakly. “That’s what those guys want me for, but um, not robots.”

“Oh, sweet! Er, I mean, that sucks. Uh-”

“Wait!” Dark is looking into the woods. “Hang on, I know that feeling-”

Two more people tumble out of the woods yet again. Dark catches on, and his eyes widen in disbelief. “The DA?”

The person moves out of his arms, an equally disbelieving look on their face. They bring their hands up and sign, “Damien?”

The other man gets up, groaning. “I’m fine, thanks for asking,” he grumbles.

“Mark,” The DA signs, “Mark, it’s Damien!”

“Holy- you’re alive? Your file said you were probably dead.”

“Really? ... Then why the fuck are you Hunters always after me?”

Mark shrugs. “They kept a lot of secrets. Former Hunters, by the way.”

“Dude, we’ve got a whole troop going!” Bing looks excited by this.

“Hey Bing?”

“Yeah, Doc Dude?”

“You can let go now. My leg did heal up, I think.”

“Oh, yeah, for suh dude! Sorry.”

Doc stands up, and tests his leg. “Oh, that’s freaky.”

“You-you get used to-to it,” Eric says tiredly.

“If there’s anyone else in the woods, please come out now!” Wilford shouts.

“There can’t possibly be-”

Three more people step out.

Dark throws up his hands. “What do I know? A hundred and thirty years old and I’m still oblivious.”

The guy in the middle, a man with a once-white shirt and striped pants, waves a little. “We’s was hoping youse would move on, to be fairs. We’s bein’ hunted too.”

“By Hunters?”

“Uh, I’m bein’ hunted by my olds dance troop.”

“Oh. That’s... new.”

“The Host is being hunted by a group of Artistic Sadists whom he used to be friends with.”

Everyone startles, getting a proper look at that guy for the first time. Bing slaps a hand over his mouth to muffle a scream, and Eric starts to hyperventilate.

“The Host is aware he has no eyes. He will not be offended by freak outs.”

“No, no, I’m over it,” Bing says, voice a little strained. “It’s bad-butt. ... I have a swearing filter in my programming, please don’t look at me like that. I literally can’t control it.”

The last man raises his hand. “Hi, Bim Trimmer. Have you heard of my family before? Old money, stuck up, evil assholes who want to sacrifice me to gain immortality and power.”

Doc and Eric speak at the same moment.

“I think that’s what the mage guys wanted to do to me.” “I-I’m on the-the run from my-my dad too.”

“Oh, we already have something in common. How nice.”

They all stand around looking at each other for a while.

“... You guys wanna team up?” Bing suggests.

Bim gives him a look, raising his eyebrow. “We just met. And it seem like most of us already have teams.”

“Look, we’re all being hunted, yeah? By a buncha different groups. But like, we’re a small army, right? There’s like, fourteen of us. We might as well stick together.”

“We don’t even know each other,” Dark argues.

“We know none of us are trying to kill each other! That’s already way better than most of our interactions with strangers, yeah?”

There’s murmurings of agreement.

“Alright, so, let’s just like, try to trust each other, and see if we can, I dunno, manage to make a home base. Pretty obvious we’ve all been running for our lives for like, years on end, so-”

Doc and Eric shout, jumping to the side, as two more people roll out of the woods. This time, people with heartbeats.

They both get to their feet as quick as they can. The woman holds a pocket knife in her hands, and the young man holds a heavy book. Siblings, clearly. They press against each other, eyes wild and with a readiness to fight.

There’s a tense silence, a breeze the only disturbance in the area.

And then Bim speaks up.

“So, who’s chasing you two?”

The two siblings look confused for a moment.

“We’re all being hunted,” Dark says in the voice of someone who’s rehashing something he’s tired of rehashing.

“... It’s personal,” the woman says.

“Is it your family? That’s what I first said, and the answer if my family,” Bim replies.

“... Maybe.”

“What’re your names?” Dark asks.

“... Sia.”

The young man looks at her like she’s crazy, and she shrugs. He looks up. “... Evan.”

“Nice too meet you.” “Hi.” “It-it’s a pleasure.” There’s a whole speech’s worth of different greetings.

Bing beams at them. “Want to join our club?”

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joshslater · 5 years

Text

Cheat Day

This is a rewrite of a story I read like a year ago and forgot to bookmark in any way. Please sent a note if you know where to find the original... Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

Michael stared at the door. There was still time to back out. To go back home and accuse Tom of cheating. Although Michael was assertive, tough even, he didn’t like confrontation. Not real, emotional confrontation. As soon as he saw the text he knew it wasn’t just another Grindr hookup. He and Tom decided very early on that sex and love were two very different things, and whatever they did to each other in the bedroom would only get better if they had inspiration from other encounters.

Still, looking at the door it felt like cheating. He had been pacing the apartment for minutes in a mix of emotions. Sadness, anger, jealousy, disbelief. He had opened all the hookup apps he had in an impulsive fit of desperately seeking a revenge fuck. A revenge fuck with someone else. It was only minutes later that he had found Jonathan, who appeared as eager as him, nearby, and with a matching profile. Gay bottom who needed a quick fuck.

Now in front of the door he wasn’t at all as sure anymore. Standing someone up wasn’t cool either. At the very least he should say sorry in person. He rung the door.

Almost instantly the door flung open and a revealed a good looking guy a year older than Michael, according to his profile. “Hey, big dude”, he said and placed a long, sloppy kiss on Michael. There wasn’t really any size difference between the two. In fact, apart from their faces they looked pretty much alike. Two skinny guys in their late twenties with a few days shade, similar haircuts and tattooed sleeves that looked the same if you squinted a lot. They even dressed alike, tight jeans and casual, high quality untucked shirt, rolled sleeves and not buttoned all the way up. ”You’re really gonna like this.” he said when he finally peeled away from the kiss. Michael could nothing but agree.

“I’m Michael. I guess I should ask if you are Jonathan, but with that greeting I would be very disappointed if I had to leave.” Jonathan smiled a wry smile. “Trust me, you are not leaving without my permission”, and he placed another slobbering kiss.

“I like your hair. I guess you need something practical with all the gym time you clock. Fits with the whole dumb jock image you’re going for.” If Michael had a dumb look, it was because he had no idea what Jonathan was talking about. He hadn’t been in a gym for months. He could live off donuts and coffee and still not put on any weight, try as he might. Jonathan’s hands were all over him, while he kicked the door shut. “I bet it takes a lot to keep such a muscled body. I bet you meal prep twice a week, eat five times a day, and stay off all processed food, all sweets, all alcohol. That takes some serious dedication.” Oh! Michael could see what he was doing. He was setting up a role playing scene.

“Lifting is life, bro” Michael tried. “There’s my fucking gym bro. It’s all about the gains and looking good naked. That’s why you shave everything below the nose, right? To make the muscles show better.”

Jonathan smiled and kissed Michael deep again, while his hands where all up inside Michael’s shirt. Michael had never shaved anything except for his face, and recently he hadn’t bother with anything but running a trimmer a few times a week.

“It’s time for your post-workout shake, right? Best time while you still have that after sweat glow. I have it ready in the kitchen for you.” “Thanks. Sure is, bro”

Michael couldn’t remember when he last had one. Years ago at least. It was chalky and not at all something he would ever ask for again. He followed Jonathan into the kitchen, and as soon as he entered Jonathan threw a plastic shaker at him. “Catch! Chug it! You’ll love it.”

It tasted like vanilla. Strangely he did like it. Had he even had lunch, or was that forgotten too in the whole text message and cheating business? Something about Jonathan made both his dick and thinking really hard. No other bottom he’d met had ever been so assertive, so in charge. But bottom and sub were different things, and he couldn’t deny that it made him want to fuck his brains out all the more. So when Jonathan led him to the bedroom he was actually worried the amount of pre-cum would show.

“Let’s stop cosplaying and get this shit off you!” Jonathan said and ripped Michael’s shirt open, sending buttons in all directions. “What the hell, bro?” “You know anything with buttons are too inconvenient. You never use them.”

He unbuttoned Michael’s jeans for him. “Get naked and get in bed.” Confused he did as he was told and kicked off his shoes and slid down his jeans and boxers. Not only was his dick and balls slippery and shiny of pre-cum, but all of his body was glistening of sweat in the dim bedroom light. As he stepped out of the pile of clothes he realized he was completely smooth. Not a single hair as far as he could see. It made sense, since he was playing jock and it would make the muscles really pop, but something about it wasn’t right. He reached for the socks, but Jonathan stopped him. “That’s enough! On your back!”

Michael might be playing a dumb jock, but he knew something was terribly wrong. Very slowly he sat down on the bed. His arms looked pathetic. The rest of the body too. But that was just disappointing, not really something to be alarmed about. Jonathan stepped forward, grabbed both his legs and raised them from the floor, forcing Michael on his back.

“Let’s fuck you into shape, shall we?” he said and thrust his dick into Michael’s ass. Michael wasn’t prepared at all for the onslaught and sounded an indiscreet yelp. His brain was going through questions, looking for the right one. Why was he lying down while Jonathan was standing up? And again, a second thrust. Why was he almost naked while Jonathan had only unbuttoned his jeans? A loud belch escaped from him. He could feel his stomach churning. Why was he the one getting fucked and not Jonathan? As the third thrust hit he could feel an ache reverberate through his whole body.

“Tom likes being the big spoon, doesn’t he? He likes that while you are the one bossing him around, he is the bigger one, the one that protects you while you sleep, even though he doesn’t have much muscles.” Wave after wave of pain was flooding Michael. He felt like he really ought to know who Tom was. It was somehow important. Jonathan was fucking him with, deep, slow strokes. “He doesn’t like big, bulky muscles. They gross him out. The upper body is the worst.” Michael wanted the pain to stop. It felt like he was being stretched on a rack. “Big, bouncy pecs that puff up and out the chest. Big delts that makes the shoulders look wide and clumsy. Huge traps that misshapes the top of the shirt. And worst of all, big, bulging biceps that strains the fabric of any normal sleeve, and risk tearing it if you bend your arm. He hates it all.” The pain was ever shifting for Michael. The bone crushing pain mutated into a burning sensation. He let out another long burp. What was Jonathan talking about again? It was so hard to concentrate.

“And legs! Big, thick thighs that makes it impossible for you walk properly and pushes your junk out, so it looks obscene whatever you do. Tom would be disgusted. The massive body and legs makes your average dick look small. Your massive balls just makes it look even smaller. And veins. Big irregular veins snaking up and down the arms and legs, like an erect dick.” Jonathan was pumping furiously now, getting close to climax. Michael’s head was spinning. He was just happy the pain had subdued into a tingling sensation. Then Jonathan just stopped and there was a second of calm where Michael couldn’t think of anything. Then they both exploded, Michael pumping squirts after squirts of warm cum up in the air, while at the same time he could feel Jonathan emptying his load inside of him. Both of them appeared to have limitless supply. Michael felt something else as well, how the body was shifting. It felt like he was moving around, or like the sheet was being pulled from under him.

No, he wasn’t moving. He was growing, he realized. It was as if Jonathan was inflating a balloon with his cum. He himself was emptied his balls all over himself in an uneven smattering of sticky frosting. He realized everything Jonathan had said about Tom was true. He was rapidly turning into the kind of body Tom would laugh at. Mock. Be repulsed by, even. “Please. Please stop. Whatever reason you think you have for doing this, it’s wrong. This is all wrong.” Jonathan raised an eyebrow while shooting a last few shots of cum into Michael.

Jonathan withdrew and stepped back a step, panting and clearly exhausted. “Yeah, this is wrong.” With his dick still out of the jeans he climbed into the bed next to Michael. Michael wanted to shrug back, to get away, but his body just laid there like a sack of whey. Without hesitation Jonathan placed his hands around Michael’s throat and started to squeeze. “No! Please! Don’t kill me! Please, stop doing this.” The pitch of his voice was slowly going up, until the last two words when it crashed down octaves. “Please, just stop”

Michael’s voice was deep, touching on African American, but still somehow youthful. “That’s better. Now, sit up beef boy, I want to show you something.” Jonathan slapped Michael on the shoulder with a wet and meaty thud, got up from the bed, and went to the wardrobes along the wall. Michael sat up in the bed, noting that he was not only more muscled than anyone he knew, but quite a bit taller than before. Jonathan opened one of the wardrobes and revealed a full length mirror mounted on the inside of the door.

Michael didn’t see himself in the mirror. Somehow the sum of the parts made a bigger impact than just seeing and feeling them on their own. He was surprised how young his face looked. Barely twenty, he would guess. It looked utterly wrong on top of that massive body. Young, dumb, and above all immature looking. Like he went to gym instead of high school and juiced his way to his twenties. If you wanted to lab grow the antithesis to what turned Tom on, this would be it. “Why are you doing this?”

Jonathan’s face twisted into a snarl of contempt, took a step back and grabbed Michael’s head between his hands, pressed the palms into his cheeks until the lips parted and forcefully spit a glob of saliva into Michael’s mouth. He then leaned down and made another long kiss. “I’ll tell you, Brad, why I’m fucking doing this.”

Brad? Michael was sitting, slacked jawed looking up at Jonathan. He glanced down, seeing his reflection in the mirror behind Jonathan. For a short moment he expected to see Michael in the mirror, but of course he didn’t. He’s Brad. Anyone can see that. Jonathan stepped in, replacing his view of the mirror with Jonathan’s erect dick.

“Suck it! You love sucking dick more than anything, you cum guzzling bottom slut! You worthless piece of shit. You were never good enough for Tom. He’s supposed to be with me! You never appreciated the way he looked at you, the way he changed to accommodate you, to be part of your life. You’re were too fucking stupid to get that! Now you are too dumb to read a newspaper. Too stupid for any joke that isn’t practical, like pantsing someone in the weight room or squirting bronzer in their butt crack.”

Jonathan still held Brad’s head with both hands, moving it back and forth to forcefully pump his dick down Brad’s throat. Brad wanted to help, to please, but there was very little he could do, beside making gagging noises.

“You don’t remember what Tom looks like anymore. You can’t remember where you met, where you used to eat together, where you lived together. You don’t even think of love or relationships anymore. You can’t plan more than to your next meal prep, fucking loser. Your life only revolves around gym, sports and sex. Those are the only things that matters, the only things you plan for, the only things you talk about.”

Jonathan let go of Brad’s head, and was just standing there panting, dick in mouth. Brad could finally start to take an active part, letting his tongue play over Jonathan’s cock head. He started to slowly suck the dick in long, deliberate motions. Jonathan collected himself, somehow relieved to have revealed his feelings for Tom, and suddenly almost surprised to be in the middle of getting a blowjob. He sounded much calmer as he continued.

“You don’t like how you look naked. You think your dick looks ridiculous and tiny next to your giant balls, so you prefer to always be fucked wearing a jock strap. You try to keep other clothes on, like you are wearing socks now, to take attention away from the jock strap. You try to have sex where and how being partially clothed makes sense. On the bench in the gym. In an alley outside. In the bleachers. In the dugout. And your massive balls are pumping so much hormones into you, you’re horny almost as soon as you’ve cum. You’ll swallow so much jizz you put it in your weekly macros.”

Brad was fully erect again, with a dollop of viscous pre-cum visible at the tip of his cock head. Jonathan was resting a hand on his head.

“Your body is never good enough. There is always more lifting, tanning, running, shaving, bulking or cutting to be done. You always want to look ready for gym, showing off what you got. Wearing bright clothes that makes people look. You want to be noticed, the center of every room you go into. How else can you get the attention to get everyone to fuck you? Loud, happy, clueless, obnoxious.”

With no warning Jonathan came again. Only a few pumps this time. Brad could feel something warm inside of him, but unlike a coffee or cocoa, it quickly spread out into all his body, and up his neck into his head. He let himself fall backwards into the bed, leaving a trailing string of cum and saliva between his lips and Jonathan’s dick, before it broke. His head was spinning. What was he doing here again. He was having sex with someone, wasn’t he? But he was still so fucking horny. In the corner of his eye he watched the guy leave the bedroom. He grabbed his slippery dick and started to masturbate. He needed to cum so badly.

The guy came back into the room with a pile of clothes, and threw it on his sweaty and cum sticky stomach. Brad felt caught and embarrassed and put both hands over his dick.

“Here, get dressed.” “Bro, you need to like fuck me.” “Sorry dude. Not my type.” “Not cool bro. I sucked you.” “Get dressed and I’ll help you find someone.” “How you’ll do that, bro?” “I’ll set up some fuck app accounts for you. I’ll even take pics and write a bio for you.” “Dope. Hurry tho. I’m so fucking horny.”

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kumkaniudaku · 4 years

Note

Request: In the shower story w/ Chad x Coco

This is from a WIP called Family Portrait that I couldn’t make work. Thank you for reviving this.

“Is the den clean for today?”

“Yes, dear.”

“And what about the kitchen? Because I know they’ll want a couple of shots in there.”

“Yes, dear.”

“Make sure you and Noah match. Black and gold is the color scheme. Did you trim your beard with the trimmers I got you?”

“Yes, dear.”

Across the black marble walk-in shower, CoCo narrowed her eyes at her husband. Chadwick was clearly uninterested in the conversation. With his back turned, he lightly hummed to himself between questions as he spread soap around his chest and shoulders. ‘Yes, dear’ had become his automated response from the moment his wife woke up.

After placing the razor beside her on the shower bench, Tash decided to flip the script.

“Can I go and text my ex back about that threesome he wanted me to have with him and his wife?”

CoCo waited a beat for her husband’s response, having finally caught Chadwick off-guard.

Without stopping the lather journey across his abdomen, Chadwick provided his answer, “If you want me to go to jail and leave our children with no father then, yes dear.”

The couple made eye contact as Chadwick turned to look over his shoulder. His wide grin was the perfect contrast to Tasha’s eye roll while she took her place on the bench to resume her task.

“I hate you so much.”

“Enough to stop asking me questions?” CoCo threw up a middle finger in response before resuming her leg shaving task. “Or at least enough to stop doing that while we’re in here together. I don’t want your long ass leg hairs on my feet.”

“If you had helped me get the kids ready for bed, I could’ve shaved my legs last night.”

“Should I have helped before or after you popped my hand with the comb and told me to get my skinny ass out of the room?”

Tasha paused for a moment to think. She’d never pop a grown man’s hand and kick him out of his own bedroom, would she? The events of the previous night came rushing back in vivid detail and she smiled to herself and shook her head.

“When I said skinny, I meant it in a nice way. Like Mariah Carey skinny!”

Chadwick’s response became lost beneath the shower water hitting the floor and his wife’s laughter. Soon, an equally slippery and warm pair of arms slid across his torso to cross at the wrist.

CoCo placed light kisses in the center of his back before resting her chin in the center.

“I would like to formally apologize for that. I’m just nervous about today. These are our first photos as a family and everything needs to be perfect.”

“It’ll be what it’s supposed to be, baby,” Chadwick spoke with his lips pressed to Tasha’s knuckles. “You have to stop stressing. It’s making me itch. Oh, wait. That’s probably just these long ass leg hairs all over my feet. Gah damn woman!”

“Puh-lease,” CoCo exclaimed as she backed away to grab her towel. “It’s probably all that dirt on your back you keep missing.”

“Well, help me get it.”

Chadwick’s smirk and eyebrow raise transformed the statement from a simple request for help into a more suggestive statement. With a smile and measured steps, Tasha moved forward to grab the washcloth out of her husband’s hand before silently instructing him to turn around.

“You want me to get your whole back, babe,” she asked in a sugar sweet voice that should have immediately raised concerns. Instead, Chadwick answered with a low ‘mhmm’ as prepared for Tasha’s touch.

CoCo’s fingers danced across her husband’s back from his shoulder blades to just above his hips and back. Slowly, she lathered soap across the area before gently scrubbing with her favorite loofah. Chadwick hummed in safisfaction as he dropped his head forward in bliss. He sighed once more when his wife used the handheld shower head to rinse.

With his guard down, Tasha took her chance to strike. She opened her palms and landed them against his ass for a loud, wet smack.

“Co!” The shock of the hit made him clench out of instinct before he turned to look at his snickering wife. “You know what, jokes on you because now I’m kind of turned on. Get over here.”

“No! You can’t mess up my hair,” Tasha protested as he grabbed hold her wrists.

“That’s why we have a bench in here, baby. I’m about to work this worry out of you right now.”

Tasha couldn’t control her laughter as Chadwick pulled her to the bench beyond the water stream for the stress reliving and stretch she really needed.

She’d worry about everything else later.

#chadwick boseman #chadwick boseman imagine

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durmstrange · 4 years

Text

First Snowfall - Draco Malfoy

Hello and welcome to another Draco one shot. I hope you enjoy, as this might be my favorite thing I have ever written!

word count: 3,304

_____________________

It took very little time from the moment Draco Malfoy got to know you to begin question everything that was ever certain in his life.

Draco was complicated, to say the absolute least, and you were not. In fact, you were far from it. You were as easygoing and kind a person as they come, and it infuriated Draco that he adored this about you so much. You wore your heart on you sleeve, something Draco never truly did.

On a cold, rainy November day, you wore the heaviest sweater you owned, which happened to be a pale yellow cable-knit, with tight black pants and a white knitted hat as you walked hurriedly towards the greenhouses for the extra credit work you signed on for. In your rush, it slipped your mind to grab your parka, and you were now chilling to the bone in the dreary weather. Nonetheless, you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself and kept your head down as you neared the greenhouses.

As you flung the door to greenhouse two open, your heart lurched in your chest as you spotted a figure bent over the Valerian plants you had planted only weeks ago. “What on earth are you doing to my plants?” You snapped as the figure stood and turned, reddened and mad at someone catching him. Draco Malfoy spotted you then, arms crossed and clothes damp, standing in the doorway.

“Your plants? You do not own the plants in the greenhouse,” he snapped back, pocketing something. You approached him then, half stomping, and grabbed his wrist in your pathetic grasp.

Without even hesitating, you pulled his hand from his own pocket, revealing the Valerian roots he was trying to take. “And what are you doing with this? Draught of Living Death, Draught of Peace?” You interrogated harshly and tilted your head to the side. Potions was your best subject, and rattling off possible uses for the plant came to you like second nature.

Draco pulled his wrist from your hand and huffed. “That is none of your concern,” he snapped at you and began walking by quickly. The anger on his face was rather similar to the look he normally held.

You remained in the same spot, arms crossed over your chest. “If you’re making a Sleeping Draught, you need sprigs of Valerian, not the roots,” you added, watching as he hesitated a moment mid-step.

Draco turned, just slightly, so you could see the side of his face. Simply by this action, you could tell that you were right. “That’s not correct,” he replied coolly, making you laugh a little. Your anger subsided rather quickly, and as you leaned against the large table in the center of the greenhouse, you shook your head at the boy.

“Potions is my best subject,” you explained and took some trimmers from the long table. As you began trimming sprigs of Valerian off, you spoke, “So, I happen to know for a fact that Sleeping Draught needs sprigs. Come here,” you instructed as you moved to the table, using the spool of scratchy brown twine attached to the center of the table to tie a bundle of them together.

Draco didn’t move towards you, but turned completely to watch as you tied the twine expertly, not too tight to damage the plant, but not so loose that it was useless, and held it out to him. “Come on now, take it,” you urged him. Draco hesitated, but stepped forward just far enough to take it from your hands.

“Why are you here?” He questioned then, taking a few steps back.

As you turned again, with your back to him, you began to put gloves onto your small hands. “Extra credit,” you answered and began tying your hair back. “I missed quite a few lessons a couple weeks ago, as I was ill in the hospital wing for about a week,” you explained. Draco frowned as you turned to him again, damp hair pulled back and a small frown on your own lips. “Now, if you don’t mind, I promised Professor Sprout I would care for the plants in greenhouse two every Saturday for a month.”

Draco nodded, and moved towards the door to leave you in peace, but as he opened the door, he glanced back at you one more time. Your back was to him and he was deeply disappointed, as he wanted to see your face one last time before he left.

~.~

A week later, to the day, Draco was seated at the table of greenhouse two, waiting for you to arrive. It was sunny today, but rather cold, as winter came upon them fast. He had already lit the fire in the corner of the greenhouse, warming it up slightly, and now waited for you patiently.

Half passed ten in the morning, the door to the greenhouse opened and you entered, not noticing him sitting at the long table. After you shrugged your heavy jacket off and hung it up on the pegs by the door, you turned and gasped, finally spotting Draco. “You’ve really got to stop scaring me like this,” you exclaimed and held your hand to your chest dramatically.

For a split second, you thought you saw a smirk form on his lips, but he quickly looked away. “I never thanked you for your help last week,” Draco explained in a tight voice as you approached him with curious look on your face. “And I never introduced myself. I’m Draco Malfoy.”

“I know who you are,” you replied with a faint smile on your lips. Draco furrowed his eyebrows slightly. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and you don’t need to thank me,” you replied softly and leaned against the table next to him. “Was I correct? You were making a Sleeping Draught?” You asked him out of your own curiosity.

Draco looked at you, his lips pressed into a tight line. “You were correct,” he admitted. You could tell he hated to admit he was wrong.

With a smile on your lips, you laughed. The smile was one of the sweetest and most genuine things he had ever witnessed, and it made his heartbeat speed up greatly. In combination with your airy laugh, he fought to keep himself from shifting from the odd fluttering feeling his stomach held. “What did you need the draught for, if you don’t might me asking?” You questioned with the same smile on your lips.

Draco looked away and hesitated, truly not wanting to answer you. Getting the hint, you spoke quickly. “You don’t have to tell me. I was simply curious. I apologize,” you added quickly and ducked your head in embarrassment. Draco simply watched you, his face barely peppered red. “However, if you ever need more, I would be more than happy to brew it for you. As I said before, potions is my best subject, and I truly enjoy it and am quite good at it. Professor Snape can vouch for me for that,” you added with a sweet smile on your lips.

The ghost of a smile played on his lips, if you could even call it that, and he nodded gently. “That is very kind of you,” he answered in a quiet voice and stood from the stool. “Now, we should get started on caring for the plants.”

You almost didn’t catch it, but as you nodded, you froze and tilted your head to the side in confusion. “We?” You asked curiously as you reached for gloves on the table.

Draco did the same and nodded. “Correct, that is what I said,” he answered nonchalantly and turned to you. “Tell me what you need me to do,” he instructed and watched you closely.

Quietly, you laughed. “You don’t have to help me.”

“I know.”

The smile on your face made Draco’s heart leap in his chest and he struggled to keep a straight face because of this. Nonetheless, he ducked his head slightly, hiding the fond look on his face as you thought for a moment. “I actually need to trim the Valerian again. Do you mind?” You asked him and held out the trimmers for him to take.

Draco shook his head and took the trimmers, turning away from you to begin his assigned task. “You can just leave them on the table. I’ll tie them up later,” you instructed further and turned away as well, working on your own tasks.

As you worked, Draco began to speak. “What house are you in?” He asked in a steady voice, something you envied him for. You tended to share your emotions in your voice quite often.

“Ravenclaw,” you answered without skipping a beat. “You’re in Slytherin,” you said rather than asking.

Draco fell quiet for a moment, trying to decide if there was disdain in your voice. He didn’t detect any, but still decided to tread lightly. “That is correct,” he agreed. “Do you hate us, too?” He asked then in a snide voice, unable to help himself.

What he didn’t expect was for you to laugh. He wasn’t meant to be funny, in fact, it irritated him a little bit that you laughed. “Of course not. Don’t be silly,” you answered before he could make another angry comment. Draco’s face drained of color out of guilt. “Why would I hate an entire house? Sure, there are some of you that are simply horrible people, but same goes for every house. There’s some pretty nasty Ravenclaws, too.” Draco turned, staring at the side of your face as you worked. How were you so optimistic about his house? He was sure every other house hated his.

He watched you, an unintentionally appreciative look on his face, and spoke in a quiet voice, “You mean to say - ” he began, but you interrupted him shortly.

“No, I do not hate you,” you answered his unasked question, as if you could hear his thoughts. You turned to him, kind eyes searching his cold ones, and gave him a small, sorrowful smile. “I have no doubts in my mind that you can be horribly nasty to others, and I don’t care much for that, but it would be unfair of me to judge you when I do not know you very well. Only twice we have met, and I actually like you quite a bit,” you admitted to him boldly with a face that felt hot.

Draco stared, his face hidden of all expression. It made you anxious that you may have made yourself vulnerable to him, but you were honest with how you felt, and you had the tenancy to show this frequently. Draco smiled then, which was entirely unfamiliar to you, but made you smile as well. His eyes fell to the Valerian in his hand. “I’ve come to like you too,” he admitted in his normally confident voice.

You smiled even wider. “I am incredibly happy to hear that, Draco,” you responded. Draco turned then, placing the Valerian on the table as you had instructed and continued to do his job.

With the smile on your lips refusing to fade, you continued your job as well, taking turns asking each other basic questions as roughly an hour and a half passed. By the end of the time, as you took your gloves off and tossed them on the table, you felt like you truly knew Draco far more than you could have ever imagined you would. “Thank you for the help, Draco. I really appreciate it. I would have been here for another hour or two if it weren’t for you,” you admitted and leaned onto the table in the center of the greenhouse, watching as he, too, removed his gloves and dusted off his expensive looking black jacket.

With a faint smile, he nodded. “I am happy to get you out of this extra credit early,” he told you and nodded towards the door. “Can I walk with you back to the castle?”

You glanced at the door, and nodded. “That sounds nice,” you answered simply and picked up the bundles of Valerian and other plants the two of you collected today. With the trimmings in your arms, you started walking side by side with Draco. The cool fall air cut right through the jacket you wore, and you shivered lightly as Draco closed the door behind the two of you.

There was a familiar smell in the air, one you recognized instantly, and you sucked a sharp, excited breath in. You spotted the small, barely visible snowflakes falling from the sky, and with your barely free hand, you grabbed Draco’s arm. “Draco, it’s snowing!” Your voice was giddy with excitement and Draco squinted, confused. He barely noticed the light flakes falling. “The first snowfall!”

Draco’s eyes wandered from the ground of Hogwarts, back to you, and a softness developed in his heart that he didn’t know he was capable of having. Seeing your excitement, the liveliness in your eyes, the look of pure bliss on your face, all of it made a feeling of adoration form in his otherwise cold heart. “I reckon you like snow?” He asked with a chuckle in his voice.

Without even thinking, you moved your hand from gripping his forearm, to looping your arm through his. “Oh, it is my favorite,” you sighed heavily and looked to him with a dreamy look.

He chuckled again, not moving to remove your arm from his, and began walking in sync with you. “Why do you need this extra credit, anyways?” He asked you as you held the trimmings in one hand, and squeezed his forearm with your other.

“I missed a fair bit of class last month,” you explained with a small frown on your face. “I fell from my broom while playing a mock game of Quidditch with some friends. Didn’t wake up for a week, and couldn’t leave the hospital wing for another week after that, for monitoring.” Your face was red from both the cold air and the embarrassment you felt for admitting this.

Draco sucked a sharp breath in. “That must have been quite the fall,” he commented with a low whistle.

You laughed nervously. “Yeah, it was. The bludger wouldn’t leave me alone, until it got me. Rumor has it one of the other houses tampered with it, making it go after the keeper,” you explained in a sad voice. Draco dug through his brain, trying to think of any possibility that he knew who did it. The scenario sounded so familiar, but he couldn’t place his finger on it. You shrugged, a sad smile on your lips. “That’s just rumor, though. I’d like to believe that it was just a rogue bludger, or something. I’d hate to think someone would be so evil to hurt someone like that.”

As you spoke, Draco realized how pure you were. Pure, innocent, and everything he wasn’t. He ducked his head, ashamed at the thought, and shook his head. “It would be quite evil for someone to do that,” he admitted gently as you neared the castle. “How are you, now? Completely healed?”

The concern in his voice threw you off. He wasn’t one to care about others, it seemed, but he appeared to be so worried about you. With a small laugh, you shook your head. “If only,” you told him with a tight smile. “I’ve been getting right nasty headaches lately, and sleep has proven to be quite difficult.” Draco gave her a confused look, pushing her to continue. “I keep dreaming that I’m falling,” you explained and looked away, embarrassed.

Draco felt so much pity for you. You were so kind, and so innocent, and he couldn’t fathom why someone would dare to hurt you. However, a nagging thought in the back of his head led him to believe he doubtlessly knew people who would do that to anyone, or worse. “Well,” he began tightly as you approached the castle. There were many students outside, shouting and cheering about the first snow of the season, as it began to stick to the grass. “I haven’t been able to sleep much lately, either. If at all. So, if you’re unable to sleep, you’re welcome to join me on my nightly walks,” he offered you with a slight redness to his cheeks.

“But, Draco, you know we can’t be out past curfew.”

Without a word, he pushed his jacket to the side, revealing the shiny Prefect pin beneath. You raised an eyebrow, quite impressed. “Cheeky,” you murmured to him and rolled your eyes gently.

He chuckled as the two of you came a stop outside of the castle. You let go of him, letting your arm fall to the side, and opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. “Come here,” he instructed and took your elbow, steering you around a column, out of sight from the others outside. You furrowed your eyebrows, confused, and watched as he dug two neatly folded, white handkerchiefs from his pocket. Curiously, you watched his every move. He took his wand out, pressed the tip of his wand to the handkerchiefs and uttered a spell you didn’t recognize.

Draco held one of them out to you to take. Skeptically, you looked at it closely before taking it into your hands, running your fingers along the silk, confused. “What did you do?” You asked him curiously.

With a proud smile, holding one of them in his own hand. “Turn it red,” he instructed.

Slowly, you reached down and placed the plant trimmings on the ground, in the growing snow. You reached behind you, taking your wand from where it was tucked into the back of your pants, and did as you were told. You transfigured the handkerchief red. “I don’t understand,” you began as you looked up to him, spotting as his handkerchief turning red in his hand. You gasped unintentionally, realizing what he had done. “Protean charm?” You questioned him incredulously. “That’s extremely advanced magic!”

With a proud look on his face, he waved his hand in dismissal and ran his hands along the fabric in his hand. “Now, if you want to ever meet me, you only need to do that, and I’ll meet you at the Ravenclaw common room entrance.”

You shook your head with a smile on your lips. “You are unbelievable,” she murmured and watched as the handkerchief returned white on its own. “But what if you don’t have it out, to watch it turn colors?”

Draco pocketed the silk square back into its place. “It heats up when its changing. Not enough to hurt you, but just enough to make you notice.” He explained and leaned against the column.

“Can I turn it any color?”

With a chuckle, Draco nodded. “Any color.”

You rocked back and forth on your heels. “This is incredible,” you laughed incredulously once more. You put your wand back where it was and leaned down, picking up the plant trimmings you had dropped previously. “It’s a date, then. Be on the look out for a purple silk handkerchief,” you told him with a cheeky smile on your lips.

Draco’s face reddened at the mention of a date. You giggled at his response, watching as a surprised look formed on his face. You began backing up. “I assume it works both ways?” You asked him. Draco nodded numbly. “Alright then, if you need me, turn it blue. That’s my color, after all,” you ordered and gave him one last wave and sweet smile before turning the corner, leaving him to his thoughts.

He leaned his back against the column, letting a slow breath from his lips. You were a sweet, crazy whirlwind, and Draco had no idea the trouble he had gotten himself into.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy fanfiction #Draco Malfoy fanfic #harry potter #Harry Potter fanfic #durmstrange #draco x reader #harry potter fanfiction #hogwarts

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orange-waterfalls · 5 years

Text

Say It Back(Part 1/2)

Host x gender neutral!reader

@thekillingjoke-haha ty for the request!

Part 2

A/N: BRO I FUCKIN LOVE THIS ONE. I was on a writer's block and then CAVETOWN MY LORD AND SAVIOR apparently made a song called "Sweet Tooth". I took a lil bit of inspiration from the chorus(hence, the title). You took inspiration from a song, so did I lol. It took me a bit to find the mood for the story, but once I found it I couldn't stop lol. So. Two-parter. Uh a bit of cursing, Rated T. Slight angst for a minute. The names I used are not people I actually know, they're from a random name generator website. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.0k

Requests are open!

The Host stares at them from across the room.

Well… less ‘stares’ and more ‘keeps his head facing their general direction’. Even so.

They are beautiful. Even with the loss of his sight, he knew they were beautiful. On the inside, at least. He smiles in content as he hears their angelic laugh from across the room. Bing is making jokes again. The Host might’ve been jealous if he were a lesser man and if he weren’t so focused on how their happiness made him happy.

He doesn’t very much understand what he is experiencing. He’d seen movies, he’d read books, he’d listened to songs. He knows what love is. He knows it well.

What it feels like, however, was a completely different ballgame.

Host more focused on his work than on romance. Besides, he just doesn’t like people. He wanted to fall in love at times, but he just couldn’t.

Y/N on the other hand makes him… feel things. He’s not sure if it’s love, he just knows he really enjoys everything they do.

He doesn’t even care that they barely talk to him anymore.

Well… he cares, obviously, but…

You understand, don’t you? Good.

“Host? Hooost. Host!” A voice calls from his side. He hums in response. Bim rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair. “Have you been listening to me for the past ten minutes?”

“No,” Host answers flatly. Bim smiles when he looks over to where Host was facing.

"So you've finally realized you have a crush?" He teased. Host raises his eyebrows.

"Finally?"

"Oh, yeah. We’ve known this, Host, it's really obvious." Host furrows his eyebrows.

"We? What does Bim mean by ‘we’?" They hear footsteps and turn towards the front.

Y/N standing in front of the two, a small, awkward smile on their face.

"Hey," Y/N greets softly. The Host is frozen in place.

"Hey!" Bim says, a wicked grin on his face as he sees the effect on Host. "Didya need something?"

"Yeah, um… Bing told me to ask you where Wilford would be…"

"Oh, well I know nothing about Wilford. I don't think anyone does," Bim explained. “But Host here knows everything, so…” Host turned to Bim angrily. He turns back to Y/N when he hears them clear their throat.

“So, uh, Host?” They ask. Host has to keep himself from shivering at the sound of his name.

“Hm?”

“Where is Wilford?”

“W-Wilford is d-down th-the hall… uh, t-to th-the right f-from the b-bathroom…” Host stutters out, voice cracking once or twice. Y/N smiles and nods in thanks before remembering Host is, in fact, blind.

“Uh, thank you…” They laugh, embarrassed. Host tries to give a small smile. His face isn’t used to that yet, so he settles for a nod. They walk away, and he increasingly becomes more sad and more embarrassed as their footsteps fade away.

“Wow,” Bim laughs, “For a narrator, you can’t talk very well, can you?”

“That is not true, the Host can talk very well…” He pauses, “When he is not around Y/N…”

“Oh, so it’s just them, huh?”

“Yes, they very much affect Host and he isn’t quite sure he likes it…” Bim smiles at Host. “What is the problem with Bim Trimmer?”

“There’s no problem, Host, I’m just happy for you!”

“Why would Bim be happy that Host cannot speak correctly?”

“Because you’re in love, dumbass!” Host would have found the insult very… well… insulting if he hadn’t become distracted by the previous phrase.

‘Because you’re in love’. Was Host in love? He wasn’t sure what that felt like.

There was Serena Munoz in kindergarten. They dated for a couple days. She didn’t like how he read constantly, and decided to break up with him. Host wasn’t in love with Serena. He wasn’t even sure he had a crush on her. Maybe he dated her just because she asked. It didn’t affect him when they broke up.

Then there was Jesse Snow in the sixth grade. He was nice. Trumpet player in the band. They liked to read together in the library at lunch and after school. They recommended books to each other and even wrote a couple stories together. They sat next to each other in math and passed notes in cryptography so the teacher wouldn’t understand. They would, though. But Jesse was scared. Two boys dating in middle school? Not the best for his image. He probably got teased or called gay(which he was) and that’s why they broke up. He liked Jesse. He was sad when they stopped talking. But he didn’t think that was love. It was more of a ‘like’ than anything.

Then Asa Holmes in his senior year of highschool. They were really different. They had blue hair, but he could see the natural-brown in the roots. They wore a lot of black and spikes and chains. They listened to punk rock and heavy metal. Host liked the heavy metal more, so they listened to that more often. They did homework together at Asa’s house, and Asa would start dancing halfway through and it kind of annoyed Host, but he also found it endearing. Then they graduated and promised to keep in touch, but Asa just… couldn’t. Host understood, and they stopped. He was disappointed, but he wasn’t in love with them.

Is this what love feels like? Is it a weird feeling in your stomach when you look at this one person? Is it your heart racing when you see them laugh? Is it hyperventilating when they come over to talk to you? Is that what love is?

Oh.

Oh no.

Host is in love.

Y/N had managed to weasel their way into the dark and lonely place in his soul and fill it with hope and joy and love.

And, oh, how he absolutely loves you.

And what the hell is he supposed to do about that?

“Uh, Host?” Bim calls after 20 minutes of silence from the writer. “Are uh… are you okay?”

“No,” Host answers instantly.

“Uh… why not?”

“Because… Host is in love…” Bim is quiet for a second and Host worries he’s gone Deaf as well. But Bim lets out a loud laugh that startles Host.

“Bing! Get your ass over here, you owe me $30!” Bim yells. Bing groans and drags his feet over to them, mumbling as he takes the money out of his wallet. Host begins to zone out, all the noise around him fading into nothing.

Host was… in love. What was he to do? Tell Y/N? No… he couldn’t. They might hate him. They might think he’s awful. They might stop being around him completely. He couldn’t handle that.

So, what was he to do?

“So, what’re you gonna do?” Bim asks, as if reading Hosts mind. “You’ve got to tell them of course.”

“No.”

“No?” Bim scoffs, “Wha do you mean, ‘no’? You have to tell them, Host!”

“Hos does not have to do anything. Host is content with watching from afar.” Host explains. There’s a pause.

“That’s goddamn creepy, Host,” Bim states. Host frowns. It is a bit creepy.

“Host cannot tell them,” He whispers. Bim, finally seeming to understand, sighs and leans forward.

“Look, Host, I know you’re scared. I know this is unfamiliar territory for you, but…” Bim starts. Host leans a bit towards him, wanting to hear what he has to say. He may treat the man like he’s annoying, but ultimately, Host cares about his opinion. Bim sighs again.

“If you don’t tell them, you’re going to regret it. Trust me I know…” Bim pauses, and Host begins wondering who hurt him. “But, these are your feelings, Host! You can’t keep them bottled up inside you forever. It’s unhealthy. You need to tell them and if they like you back, great! If they don’t, that’s too bad, watch ‘Dirty Dancing’ on repeat and eat a tub of ice cream like the rest of us.” Host tilts his head a bit.

“Host cannot exactly watch--”

“Oh, you know what I meant, smartass!” Bim laughs and Host smiles. He does know what Bim meant, and he undrstands. He just needs to say it. How would he say it?

‘Hi. I like you. Say it back.’

That’s a bit too forward.

But forward is what Host does. It’s who he is, he can’t change that.

He’ll just say that to them when they come back.

Y/N walks back into the room where Bim and Host are. They’re wearing different shoes, he can tell. Are they wearing different clothes as well? Why would they be?

Wait…

“Wow, hey Y/N! Who you dressing all nice for?” Illinois says from somewhere else in the room. Host is pale. He doesn’t want to know.

“Well,” Y/N chuckles, “I’m glad you asked!”

No.

No, no, no.

“I’m actually going out for lunch.”

“Really? With who?”

Stop.

Stop!

“It’s ‘whom’.”

“Fuck you, Google. Y/N, spill.”

Don’t.

Please, don’t.

“I’m going out on a date!” They finally finish. The room is completely silent. Not that Host would hear anything with the ringing in his ears.

He felt bad. He felt so bad. He hated this… feeling. He was so upset.

“Well, don’t all talk at once…” Y/N jokes awkwardly. Bim finally decides to take pity on them.

“Wow! Didn’t know you had it in you!” He teased. “Congrats!” The other egos joined in in a chorus of congradulatory phrases. Host was silent.

“Well, I better go. Wish me luck!” They said, practically bouncing out the door. Everyone said goodbye to them, and the door finally closed. Host could feel everyone’s eyes on him. They all knew. The all knew. And he didn’t until he was too late to do anything.

Typical of him.

“Host…” Bim starts. Before he can say anything else, Host shoots up and makes a beeline for the bathroom. No one calls after him, no one tries to stop him, no one does anything, He is grateful for that. He just wants to sit and wallow, and that’s exactly what he plans to do.

Host heard a soft knock on the door.

“Host?” Bim asks quietly. “Host, it’s Bim. Are you okay?”

“No,” Host whispers. “Host is not okay. Why would Host be okay?”

“Well, uh… you’ve just… been in there a while. I figured you’d have gotten a bit better…”

“Host has not.”

“Oh…”

Silence for a moment, and Host thinks Bim will leave. No matter how much he may try to seem cold, he does enjoy the man’s company.

“Don’t worry. I’m still here.”

Host lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Bim?” He hears the other man shift so he is sitting out side the bathroom door.

“Yeah, Host?”

“Do you think Host is worthy of love?”

“Yes.” Bim said immediately. Host waited for an explanation. He got none. He supposed that’s just how it works. Sometimes you don’t get an explanation.

“Bim?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think that Y/N could be in love with Host?”

“I think… you shouldn’t bet on it.” Host’s shoulders fall. “But, I also think that there is a possibility and you should tell them soon before they fall in love with someone else.” Host brought his head up. Bim was right.

Y/N was going on a date. Presumably, their first date with this person. Dates are used to figure out if someone is in love, or gives an oppurtunity for someone to fall in love. There was still time. He still has time.

Host swings the bathroom door open and Bim hits his head on the floor.

“Ow! Dammit, Host!” He cursed. Host couldn’t feel bad. Not now.

“Host needs help.”

“With what?” Host turns towards Bim, who pulled himself to his feet.

“With getting Y/N to fall in love with me.” Host heard nothing for a second. Then, a chuckle from the gameshow host.

“Alright,” He sighs, “What do you wanna do?”

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 5 years

Note

i have a fluffy prompt if you’re interested! dark trying to hide how much he cares for the reader, when they do something sweet for him, something small like bringing him a cup of coffee while he’s working or something, and as they’re leaving he accidentally says “goodbye, i love you.” as if it were the most normal, casual thing in the world

Ah, you should know that I’m always down for fluffy prompts, no matter how slow I am! For this, I’m cheating and taking inspiration from a ship I’ve discussed elsewhere with a friend of mine as a starting point.

Also, my sympathetic Dark has been lurking in my mind today so it’s a double bonus!

Word Count: 772

You were taking part in an internship in the department Bim Trimmer led in order to see how the development of a TV show works from start to finish. It was a rather interesting process, but it was by pure fluke you met one of the project leaders - Dark. You happened to be talking to Bim about your observation task when the entity entered. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the stranger, and you could feel your breath briefly leave. He was mesmerising. Even if he had a reputation for being intimidating and distant, you found you were soon smitten.

Of course, that meant Bim knew too.

That was no surprise. As the game show host who crushed hard on certain people, he would notice straight away. He made sure not to tell you, but suddenly, you became in charge of delivering messages back and forth to Dark. It meant that the two of you had more moments to chat, however briefly, before he dismissed you back to work.

You became sure he didn’t care about you. Either that, or he valued professionalism over everything else. It didn’t help the little flutter in your chest when you’d give a clever remark that would earn you a smile spreading on the monochromatic figure’s lips. But you were mature. You would not let a little crush weigh you down. He seemed to enjoy your company, which was certainly a victory when that reputation was taken into consideration.

As the days went by, you found you were looking forward to those brief conversations with Dark. Regardless of why he didn’t intimidate you, there was definitely a connection of some sort.

Today, you were given a rather simple task: “hand him this proposition and suck up to him. He’s in a good mood today”. You had to resist the urge to scoff. It seemed so ridiculous. With how you’ve always gotten the cold shoulder, why could Bim not make this offer himself? But you were an intern, so you shrugged and made your way to the other’s office.

You knocked once. Nothing.

A second time brought similar results.

“Are you looking for something?”

You jumped and spun to the voice, startled to see Dark standing in front of you. There was a hint of amusement on his face as you recovered from the fright. Instead of a response, you simply handed him the sealed envelope. Rather than opening the door, Dark simply leaned against the doorframe as he took to reading it. An eyebrow quirked as he read it a second time, before whatever good mood disappeared. The door was unlocked and he entered without a word, leaving you alone in the corridor. Despite knowing Bim would want you to follow and ‘suck up’, your gut told you otherwise. A determined huff spurred you to get to work.

You returned a few minutes later with a cup of coffee in your hand. Some asking around ensured it would be just right, and no questions were asked.

“You really shouldn’t advocate on Bim’s behalf,” he started, eyes glued to his work. “He’s asking for things they don’t even need for their ‘documentary’. I know you’re an intern, but you aren’t an excuse to splash out.”

It might not have been your place, but you decide to be honest and agree. You want to see how a production of any sort is made, but not if it adds more cost. On Bim’s behalf, you apologised.

“It isn’t your fight. I’ll talk to him later. There isn’t much point having you bear the brunt of something that isn’t your fault. Go take an early lunch.” You hesitated, eyes dropping to the mug in your hands. This would be the time to nod and flee, but Dark just did something nice for you. You had to return the favour. Masking nerves as best as you could, you crept over to place the mug on Dark’s desk before making a hasty retreat.

While your back was turned, Dark’s attention finally shifted from the pages. The mug was lifted with cold hands, before an experimental sip was taken. His eyes widened as he registered that it was perfectly made.

“Thank you,” he called out. You glanced over your shoulder, giving a nervous farewell. Before he could stop himself, Dark smiled and replied, “Goodbye, love you.”

The world froze as both of you registered what he said.

With wide eyes, you locked eyes with Dark. He looked as surprised as you did, but he gave a small smile and shooed you off.

This would definitely be an interesting conversation next time you met.

#writersofmark #darkiplier #dark x y/n #self-insert #soft dark #(shut up lemme write my soft Dark)

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regolithheart · 4 years

Text

Love In The Time of Coronavirus: Chapter Five

Summary: One pandemic, one lake house, and two people who loathe one another. Will they be able to survive the outbreak...and each other?

MASTER LIST

Read on AO3.

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

CHAPTER FIVE:

Cassian shuffled through his dresser to find clothes to change into. It would be so easy to throw on a pair of clean sweats, but he didn’t want to resort to that. It was only day two of their self-isolation and if he wasn’t careful, it would be a slippery slope. Besides, he could just imagine the look of distain on Nesta’s face to see him walking around in pajamas in the middle of the day.

His phone buzzed on the bed behind him and picking it up, he saw Rhys was on the other line. Cassian grinned as he accepted the FaceTime call.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Good morning!” He heard Mor’s voice calling back although out of view from the camera and distant but cheerful.

Rhys shook his head. “It’s 4:30pm here.”

Leaning back against his headboard, Cassian shrugged. “Sorry, I’m not on Parisian-time. Seeing as I’m in Sonoma right now with a woman who hates my guts. Have I thanked you recently for that?”

Rhys gave him a wry smile. “You can take your grievances up with France and the U.S. government. Do you want Macron’s number?”

Cassian snorted. “Yeah, text it to me.” He wouldn’t have been surprised if Rhys really did have the French President’s personal number.

There was a moment of silence before Cassian raised an eyebrow.

“So….to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

The corner of Rhys’ mouth quirked up, but there was no amusement on his face. He opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Cassian held up a hand to stop him.

“No. If you’re going to give me bad news, I want it from one of the girls or Az. At least then I can take comfort from their beautiful faces. “

Rhys rolled his eyes, but again, he was interrupted.

Cassian watched the phone shuffle between hands and caught a glimpse of the ceiling of Rhys and Feyre’s pied-à-terre and the blue Parisian sky beyond. Soon, he was looking at Feyre.

“Hey.” Her smile was too sweet and she had drawn out her vowels for too long.

Cassian’s reply was cautious. “Feyre. What’s up?”

Her eyes flickered to someone off screen before smiling even wider at Cassian. “So listen. I just got off the phone with Elain and she and Graysen are actually staying in L.A. for the time being.”

Cassian dragged his free hand down the length of his face, groaning.

If there had been any saving grace in his current predicament, it was that Elain and her boyfriend were on there way up. At least then Nesta would have been appeased and he’d have more people to talk to. It was hard to strike up a conversation with someone who only answered in single word sentences or told him to eat shit half of the time.

He had even been prepared to make friends with Graysen—who was maybe the most boring person Cassian had ever met.

Graysen. Was that his name? Why did he think it was Gregory?

Cassian shook his head. “I gotta tell you, Feyre. You guys are really screwing me over, here.”

“I’m sorry!” Her voice was pleading. “If there was any other way—“

“I know, I know. It’s fine.” He knew they weren’t doing it on purpose, but it still didn’t stop the bubble of irritation that was building in the pit of his stomach. “Just tell Rhys that he better be prepared to sell this house at half it’s market value because there’s a good chance your sister is going to murder me in my sleep. I’m leaving all of my records to Az.”

“Hey!” He heard Mor object in the background.

“You can also tell your fiancé that he has surrendered his entire booze collection and I remember seeing a bottle of McCallan 1926 the last time I checked.” Cassian was starting to feel better just thinking about the prospect.

Rhys shoved his face into view. “Cassian, don’t you dare.”

“What? I can’t hear you over my emotional distress. Gotta go drown my sorrows in a fancy bottle of whiskey.”

“Cassian,” Rhys threatened again.

But Feyre had elbowed him out of the frame and looked at Cassian one more time. “There’s one more thing.”

Cassian raised his eyebrow.

“Elain is giving Nesta the news any minute now and you might want to avoid her for a little while.”

“This is why I’m not going to feel bad for drinking the McCallan.”

“I’m sorry, Cass.” Feyre’s smile was weak.

“Yeah. I gotta go find a hiding spot now. If I don’t make it out alive, it was nice knowing ya.”

He saw various arms waving at him and a received a chorus of goodbyes before he hung up.

Shit, shit, shit.

Abandoning the idea of a shower, Cassian tip-toed out of his room and threw a glance down the hallway. Nesta’s bedroom door was closed and he didn’t hear her angry voice coming from the other side. Quickly, he snuck downstairs and headed towards the gym.

He figured he’d be safe in there.

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

After ninety minutes in the gym and sauna, Cassian decided it was safe to come out. He had heard Nesta’s angry footfalls on the stairs fifteen minutes earlier, but it had been quiet after that.

As he passed the door to the office, he heard the scrape of a chair against the wooden floors, a thud, and Nesta cursing.

“Damnit!”

Cassian was all too happy to ignore the commotion, but before he got to the stairs, he heard the sound of something falling to the ground with a thud and Nesta’s long, defeated sigh.

Running a hand through his hair, he sent a silent apology to his future self and turned around to knock on the office door.

“What?” Nesta’s answer was curt.

He opened the door slowly, allowing himself a peak into the room in case Nesta felt like throwing something at him. He still remembered the day Pictionary was banned.

“Do you need some help?”

Nesta was on her knees. Her work bag was laying on its side, it’s contents scattered across the floor.

Cassian picked up a highlighter that had rolled to his feet. He began picking up random pens and markers on his way closer to her. She took them silently from him and stuffed them into her work bag, not sparing a glance his way.

“I can’t find the wifi password.”

He was amused for a moment until he realized he didn’t know what the password was either. They had set up the lake house’s internet years ago and everyone had saved it on their devices and promptly forgot it. Come to think of it, he really should update the password and run a security check on the house’s connections. He made a mental note to himself.

“Did you check the back of the router?” He had warned Rhys not to leave the password taped there, but wouldn’t have been surprised if his friend ignored his advice.

“Of course I did.”

“And?”

“And I wouldn’t be talking to you if it had worked, would I?” Nesta crossed her arms over her chest.

Cassian ignored her scowl and marched over to the desk to take a look himself. Sure enough, there was a sticker with the default password stuck behind the router. They couldn’t have been that lazy, could they?

“May I?” Cassian asked, gesturing to Nesta’s laptop opened on the desk.

“Sure. Go ahead and waste my time.”

Cassian ignored that too and punched in the password. A error ping sounded followed closely by a snort from Nesta behind him.

Drumming his fingers against the wooden desk, he searched his memory, trying to recall if they had ever written the password down. He began pulling out the desk drawers and shuffling through its contents. Not that there was much to look through. He would have been surprised if Rhys did any actual work in that room.

In the drawers Cassian found a stack of business cards, a letter opener, an empty leather bound notebook with gold gilded pages, a cigar trimmer and two cigars still in their plastic sleeves, but no sign of a wifi password.

He could image Nesta rolling her eyes at him, but when he looked up, he found that she wasn’t paying him any attention at all. Instead, she was on the other side of the room, looking at the framed pictures on the bookshelves and running a delicate finger across one of the photos, lost in her thoughts.

And that’s when Cassian finally remembered.

He reached over to the black and white photo of a woman and teenage girl, both with thick dark hair and matching brilliant smiles. The silver frame was heavy and well-polished. Turning it over, Cassian unlatched the back and revealed a yellow sticky note with Rhys’ tiny, yet neat handwriting.

“All set,” Cassian said, setting the photo back in it’s place on the desk.

“Who’s that?” Nesta asked as she watched him.

He hesitated. “Rhys’ mother and sister.”

Nesta was silent. Feyre must have told her what happened six years ago and he was glad he didn’t have to. It still made his heart ache just thinking about it.

Cassian cleared his throat and stood up to leave. Before closing the door behind him, he heard Nesta say, “Thank you.”

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

Nesta splashed water on her face and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked pale and the smudges under her eyes showed just how tired she really was. Sighing, she redid her braid and pinned it back in its usual crown, smoothing the flyaways down with her damp fingertips.

There. It wasn’t much, but it was an improvement.

She had escaped to her room for a moment after getting off a two-and-a-half hour conference call where the majority of it was taken up by Devlon and their client’s anecdotes about their second day of self-isolation and lamenting the fact that they were going to be missing a lot of golf. She had gritted her teeth through the whole thing, but remained silent.

Her only saving grace was the little satisfaction of knowing she was billing the client for this meeting and the more he droned on about the eighth hole at Pebble Beach, the more he was being charged.

She took a deep breath and began making her way back downstairs, to the long list of unread emails she had ignored all day.

Cassian’s bedroom door was ajar again.

God, did he ever close it?

Slowing down, she chanced a peak inside. His laptop sat open on the otherwise orderly bed, but he was nowhere to be seen.

When Nesta got back to the office, she crossed her arms and looked suspiciously around the room.

Next to her laptop, sitting on a coaster was a gin and tonic.

She glanced down at her watch. It was 5 o’lock on the dot and she wondered if Cassian had been waiting to hear her footsteps coming down the stairs. She didn’t see him in the living room or hear him in the kitchen and that annoyed her.

Pushing the drink away, she was even more annoyed when she saw that it was exactly how she liked—with a twist of lemon and an extra slice for good measure. She didn’t want to think about what it meant that Cassian knew her favorite drink, or how he knew it.

Instead, she focused on her mountain of emails. Half of them were office-wide emails, reminding everyone to be safe and to reach out to their clients to let them of their new Work From Home procedures and all of the additional spreadsheets and reports that they needed to keep up to date now that people were no longer in the office. It was exhausting to shift through. But then an email from Devlon made her pound her fist on the desk.

The ice from the gin and tonic tinkled.

She dialed Devlon’s number, nostrils flaring at every ring. He picked up on the fourth one.

“Are you kidding me?!”

Devlon’s voice was even-toned. “I had no choice.”

“But, Eris? I said anyone but him!”

“You do remember that I’m your boss, right?”

Nesta didn’t reply, just seethed.

“Listen, I know it’s not ideal. I wouldn’t have put him on the Carver project at all but…” he sighed.

“Tamlin put a hold on Rose Hall and I’m in a staffing bind.”

“Can’t you shift some other people around?”

Devlon was not amused. “I need to find projects for eight people.”

“I’ll take Amren.”

“Good. Then you have to take Eris, too. He’s the only one on the viz team that’s available and can do the work.”

Nesta huffed. “Fine. But he needs to be reminded that I’m the Project Architect and he answers to me.”

“Don’t we all?”

Nesta hung up the phone and leaned back in her chair, still annoyed. She was glad Amren was now on her team, but she wasn’t looking forward to babysitting Eris.

Looking up, she saw the photo of Rhys’ mother and sister smiling at her. She averted her eyes.

She hated that room.

For an office, it was surprisingly lacking. She had only been able to find one single pen in the whole entire room and it was a Mont Blanc fountain pen. Judging by the weight, no doubt it was made of platinum.

The rest of the room was more of a treasure chest of knick-knacks, travel paraphernalia, and photos. So many framed photos.

She had perused them earlier that day when Cassian was looking for the wi-fi password and her eyes had snagged on a photo sitting in a simple wood frame. It was all of them: Rhys, Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Feyre.

Nesta had not been able to tell where the photo had been taken. Judging from what they were wearing, they could have been anywhere at any time. To anyone else it would have just been a typical photo of a group of friends, but it had struck Nesta to see how happy they all were, especially Feyre. Rhys’ arm was around her waist, but Feyre’s head was leaning on Mor’s shoulder. And her sister’s arm was stretched behind the blonde, her hand clasping Cassian’s.

Nesta couldn’t recall if she, Elain, and Feyre had ever a photo similar to that one. Maybe they did before, but certainly not after their mother…

She snapped her laptop shut, revealing the gin and tonic she had nudged aside earlier. The ice had began to melt, but she finished it in three gulps.

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

Nesta found Cassian in the kitchen. Not that she had been looking for him.

She was returning her glass and he just happened to be there, pulling items from the fridge. The sound of ice clinking against the tumbler made him look up.

He raised his eyebrow, but his smile was soft.

“Looks like you could use another.”

Given the day that Nesta had, she agreed.

Cassian held out his hand and Nesta placed the glass into his awaiting palm.

She was surprised when he put the dirty glass into the sink and watched as he deftly prepared her a new drink in a clean one. She was even impressed when he managed to carve the perfect sliver of lemon peel with the large chef’s knife in his hand and gave it a delicate twist before nestling it into the ice and handing her the drink.

Nesta took a sip. It was perfect.

“Thank you.”

Cassian made a noise in the back of his throat. “So are you going to be eating dinner tonight?” His tone was casual and he didn’t look up at her as he organized the food on the counter.

She hesitated, but he was being nice so she could at least try to be civil. “What are you making?”

He finally looked up at her, his grin wide, canines gleaming as he held up a parcel wrapped in butcher’s paper. “Steaks!”

“Isn’t that a little extravagant?”

“You’ve never heard of steak night Wednesday?” He grinned at his own joke. “We’re celebrating.”

“What are we celebrating?”

There was that grin again and Nesta blamed the heat rising in her chest on the two gin and tonics she’d had.

“We’re celebrating the fact that I just broke into Rhys’ prized whiskey collection.” He nodded to a bottle that other than the color of the liquid—a deep, dark caramel—and the label that said Years 60 Old, didn’t look like anything special to Nesta.

Cassian could tell she was unimpressed. “That is a $75,000 bottle of Scotch.”

Nesta laughed. “You’re shitting me!”

“I would never joke about McCallan.”

Nesta picked up the bottle to examine it further. It was heavier than she had expected it to be. The label was thick and had a beautiful texture that was imprinted with a gold border, but she still couldn’t believe that she was holding a bottle of alcohol that was worth a year’s salary.

“So what do you say, Nesta Archeron? Have dinner with me tonight.”

She looked at him. At the checkered button down with the sleeves rolled up, and his hair which was half pulled back in a knot. His smile was easy and the light from the setting sun streaming into the kitchen made his eyes glow amber.

He cleaned up nice. It wasn’t the first time Nesta had noticed, but it always took her by surprise.

“Okay,” she said and took a sip of her drink—an excuse to avert her eyes.

“Great! You can start on the potatoes.”

Her head snapped up. “What?”

“The potatoes.” Cassian repeated, pointing to a bag of small yellow potatoes.

Nesta started backing away from the island. “No. No one said I had to cook.”

“Boiling potatoes isn’t exactly rocket science.” Cassian looked amused. “Just grab those potatoes, wash them, fill that pot with water, and wait.”

Nesta eyed the potatoes. “How many?”

Cassian shrugged. “Ten? Eleven?”

Nesta grabbed the bag and pulled out twelve golf-sized potatoes.

Eleven. What kind of maniac was he?

When the pot was on the stove, Cassian tossed in two healthy pinches of salt into the water.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“That’s it? How long until they’re done?”

Cassian looked at her incredulous. “Have you really never boiled potatoes before?”

Nesta didn’t answer. It wasn’t as though she had never boiled potatoes before, but the few times she deigned to cook, she always followed a step-by-step recipe to the tee.

“When the water starts boiling, poke them with a fork. If they’re soft, they’re done and if not give them a couple more minutes.”

She nodded.

“In the meantime, turn the oven on to 400 and relax.”

Nesta let her shoulders drop. She hadn’t realized how tense she was.

When the potatoes were done, Cassian strained them and dumped them all onto a sheet tray.

“Now here’s the fun part,” he said, grabbing a wooden spoon. “Take this spoon and press it into the potatoes like this. Really smash it.”

He demonstrated and Nesta watched as the potato flattened under the pressure of the spoon, it’s edges splitting into craggy fissures.

“Your turn.”

Nesta took the wooden spoon from Cassian and tried to mimic his technique.

“Come on, Archeron. You can do better than that. Really smash it. Pretend it’s my face you’re crushing.”

Nesta hid her smirk, and pressed hard. It was oddly satisfying.

When she was done, Cassian tossed in some herbs, a couple of crushed garlic cloves, a few glugs of olive oil and told Nesta to mix it up with her hands. She did as she was instructed, but cringed the whole entire time. As soon as the contents of the tray were mixed, she rushed to the sink to wash her hands.

That was one of the reasons why she didn’t cook. But aside from getting gross oil fingers, thirty minutes later they were sitting at the dining table with the most amazing smelling dinner in front of them, and Nesta decided it hadn’t been too bad.

Cassian held up the bottle of McCallen 1926. “Can I tempt you?”

She wasn’t a whiskey drinker in the least, but she was curious to see. When she nodded, he poured her two fingers’ worth.

Nesta twirled the liquid in her glass, trying to determine if she could spot how special it was just by looking at it. It looked pretty ordinary to her. She glanced at Cassian before taking a sip.

It was much more sweet than she had expected it to be. There were hints of dried fruit—figs, maybe. And as the liquid rolled over her tongue she picked up a bit of vanilla and something warm and nutty. Cinnamon? It was definitely familiar. When she finally swallowed, the aroma hit her. Christmas. This tasted like Christmas. Warm and comforting and…special.

She cleared her throat. “It’s okay.”

Cassian simply shook his head, torn between amusement and disbelief. He took his own sip and Nesta watched his face closely. It was subtle—almost imperceivable—but she saw his discovery mirror her own.

When he opened his eyes, his voice was awed. “It’s incredible.” He grinned. “I am never drinking anything else, ever again.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and he winked.

“Well, lets eat!”

Everything tasted as amazing as it looked and Nesta felt a flash of pride at how wonderful the potatoes were. They had baked them in the oven and the edges were crispy and fragrant. If that was all Nesta was allowed to eat for the rest of her life, she’d be happy.

“These potatoes are incredible.”

Cassian grinned. “They’re the easiest thing.”

“I never learned how to cook.” The words slipped out of Nesta’s mouth before she could stop them.

Cassian looked up, surprised. “Really? Then who taught Feyre? I thought…” He stopped himself from finishing that sentence.

Nesta looked away. She hated how he became quiet. Probably because he knew the truth about what happened all those years ago. Sometimes it felt like a lifetime ago. Sometimes, like at that very moment, it felt all too fresh.

She cleared her throat and straightened. When she turned back to him, her face was neutral, calm.

“How did you learn to cook?”

Taking her cue, Cassian’s smile came easily. “I used to be a line cook,” he answered, popping a piece of steak into his mouth.

For the rest of the dinner, Cassian told Nesta of all the jobs he had had growing up. First as a dishwasher, then a line cook. There was the summer in high school when he was a life guard at the public pool but had to quit because all the moms were hitting on him.

Nesta rolled her eyes at that story, but then laughed when he told her about his stint as a dog walker. She almost choked when he told her about the time he baby-sat a nine-year-old.

“You were a manny?!”

“Yeah.” His grin turned into a scowl. “But then I was fired because the kid was failing math! I was only supposed to pick him up from school and made sure he didn’t break his neck until his parents got home. I didn’t sign up to teach long division.”

Nesta had to brush a tear of laughter from her eyes as Cassian cleared away the dirty dishes.

She smoothed her hair back and saw Cassian leaning against the kitchen counter, watching her.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

She sobered quickly. “I…um…no. I have to get back to work.”

He raised his eyebrow. “It’s 8pm.”

She stood up. “I have a lot of emails to get to.”

They held each other’s stare long enough for Nesta to feel uncomfortable, but then Cassian shrugged his shoulder and moved towards the sink.

“Another time then.”

Nesta watched him for three more seconds, then turned and left.

#acotar #nessian #nessian fanfic #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian archeron #feyre archeron #elain archeron #rhysand #azriel #morrigan

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doctordiscord123 · 4 years

Text

Watermelon Boy

King introduces Bim to a surface food.

For @quietchiaro uwu. Happy birthday, friend! :D

Commission Info | Buy me a ko-fi

Tags: @demon-dark-666 @devon-rever-860 @smash-ash26 @bender-of-life @verse2wo @vociferous-chaos @sammael-is-here @itsjustkyss @takethepainawaybae @the-pan-anon @ts-famderartist @rottingmolars @revolutionbastard @toothfairy2298 @sororia04s @sirkawaiipotato @darkest-shade-of-light @bitchbyebibye @posts-random-art @xoskeletonkid If you want to be added to the list, just let me know!

Warnings: None Characters: Bim Trimmer, The King of the Squirrels Pairings: Bim Trimmer/The King of the Squirrels Word Count: 1061 words

Bim hummed happily beneath the surface of the water, tail stirring up the sand with idle motions as he dug for seashells. He’d been living by the surface for a while now, with King, and he’d never been happier. Silver and Eric visited nearly every day, and he got to spend all day with King. Though, King couldn’t spend too much time by the pier, away from his tree. Which was why Bim was off a little ways out to sea, digging for seashells, while he let King – sleep? – sleep in his tree.

“BIM!”

Bim lifted his head, elbow deep in the sand, when he heard King’s distant voice. He frowned, struggling to get his arm free, before swimming to the surface of the water, poking his head up into open air. “King?”

King was standing on the edge of the pier, a little green blur – Bim was farther out than he thought – waving frantically. “COME HERE!”

King turned and raced back to his tree, leaving Bim…a little confused as he ducked back below the water, swimming back to shore. He forewent the pier, this time, crawling onto the beach instead. And just in time to see King emerge from the forest carrying – something. Something…big, and green, and round, and easily looked to be far too big for King to carry, especially by the way he was stumbling and sort of waddling over to him.

Bim rolled onto his back, pushing himself to sit upright with the waves still lapping at his tail, and King sat heavily besides him, cross-legged, with – the thing in his lap. King was beaming, that crudely carved coral gem flower still tucked behind his ear, and he patted the thing. “Look what I found! One of the other dryads gave it to me, isn’t this great!”

Bim raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side. “Sure, but…” He poked the thing. It was – hard. And weirdly sort of smooth. “…What is it?”

King blushed dark green, probably with embarrassment, but Bim just found it adorable. “Oh! Right, um –” He patted the thick skin of the thing again. “It’s – It’s a watermelon. You eat it.”

Bim’s confusion only spiked. “How in the Hell…?”

King laughed, leaning over to kiss Bim’s cheek – and immediately flushing further when he realized what he did – before twisting around. “Hold on, I just – I need something sharp –”

Bim huffed, and grabbed the – watermelon? – from King’s lap. It was heavier than it looked, and Bim nearly dropped it before setting it in his own lap, tail twitching a little in the surf. His tongue poked out between his teeth as he dug his nails into the surprisingly giving skin of the watermelon, and he began to pull. It took a bit of strength, his arms quivering, but before long, the watermelon began to give, and it abruptly split almost perfectly even in half, Bim falling backwards in surprise while the two halves went skidding in the sand.

King lit up, helping Bim sit back upright, before taking the nearest half of the watermelon, brushing as much sand off as possible, before digging his hand in and scooping up some of the reddish pink flesh inside. Bim blinked owlishly, watch King eat for a minute, before taking his half, brushing off the sand, and mimicking him. He crinkled his nose a little at the texture on his fingers and the webbing in between, and when he lifted up his handful, he reared back at the – vaguely red liquid that dripped between his fingers. He shot King a startled look, only to see the same red liquid dripping down King’s chin. “It bleeds?!”

King swallowed his mouthful of the watermelon, lowering his hand. “I mean – I guess? It’s juice. It’s not bad or anything.” He smiled a little. “Try it. I think you’ll like it. Just – don’t eat the black things, the seeds. They’re not good.”

Bim’s brow just furrowed with his ever-deepening confusion. “Seeds? Like…what you gave me?” He peered at the little black dots in the flesh of the watermelon. “These don’t look like yours.”

“Well I’d hope not. We’re different plants. Every plant has different seeds. Oak trees like me have acorns. Watermelons and some other fruits have little black things. Some don’t have seeds at all, just spores.”

Bim blinked again slowly, staring at King, and cracked a smile. “I understood some of the words you said. And…” He picked one of the seeds out of his handful, squishing it between his fingers, before flicking it into the ocean. “You’re sure it’s safe?”

At King’s encouraging nod, Bim picked out the rest of the seeds in his hand, and took a hesitant bite.

He reared back a little, chewing slowly. It was…sweeter than he thought it’d be. Grittier, too, though that was probably just the sand. The – juice? – was sticky, but it wasn’t bad, like King said. In fact…Bim didn’t mind it at all. It was good, he liked it, he liked how sweet it was, and how squishy it was. And he brought his hand up to take another bite, slapping his fins against the surf.

His handful was quickly gone, and he brought the entire half of the watermelon up to his face, sinking his fangs in, and idly spitting the seeds back into the ocean. Though, he blushed when he heard King laugh, lifting his head with juice staining his face pink and dripping back into the natural bowl. “Shut up, King! Stop laughing at me, I’ve never seen one of these things before! You surface dwellers have weird stuff!”

King just laughed harder, snorting into his own handful of watermelon. “I know! I just think it’s cute how enthusiastic you are!”

Bim’s blush deepened, and he pouted, nails digging into the skin of the watermelon. “M’not cute! I could eat you!”

King leaned over to kiss his cheek. “You could, but I’d taste like grass, bark, and dirt. So who would really be getting the last laugh there?”

Bim’s pout deepened, and he bared his fangs at King with a hiss, arching his tail. His blush darkened, and he picked at the watermelon, flicking another seed into the water. “Could you…possibly find another one of these? Some time? Please?”

King smiled, kissing his cheek again and resting his chin on Bim’s shoulder. “Of course.”

#fantasy au #bim trimmer #the king of the squirrels #merman!bim #dryad!king #bim trimmer/the king of the squirrels #my writing

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franklyshipping · 4 years

Text

Intensive Attentiveness ~ A Markiplier Ego Fanfic

Here we have a super sweet and fun prompt from the snazzy @bimlee-trimmer SO LET’S HECKIN DO THIIIIS!!!

TAGGING: @darkipli-ler and @bimlee-trimmer

Bim pouted as he ambled, letting out soft sighs every now and then….because he was oh so bored. All he wanted was to spend some time with his beautiful boyfriend, his lifelong partner Dark, but alas Bim was dating one of the most hardworking men on the entire planet. Sometimes Bim could only see him on Dark’s busy days if he purposefully stationed himself in Dark’s office! That’s what Bim was doing now, pacing about the room despondently and making soft noises of despair whilst Dark pored over paperwork at his desk, his crimson eyes flicking over lines of text and numbers. However, Dark wasn’t as focused on his paperwork as much as he’d perhaps like you to believe. Dark frankly wanted nothing more than to spend time with Bim, and was chancing glances at him at any opportunity he could get when Bim wasn’t looking.

Dark felt so warmed at how Bim was so determined and dedicated to spend time with him, even when he was so busy and couldn’t give Bim the love and attention he deserves. If anything it made Dark even more motivated to get all his paperwork done so that he could carry Bim bridal style to their bedroom and treat him to mountains of snacks and intense kissing. Dark only hoped Bim would be patient. However, the next time that Dark glanced at Bim, his eyes widened….and he realised that Bim was going to be the opposite of patient. Bim had started to resort to the one thing that drove Dark up the wall. The one sure-fire thing that would rile him up and give Bim his full attention. He was re-arranging the things in his office. Bim had decided that he wanted Dark’s attention, and damn any and all paperwork in the world that tried to stop him!

Dark clenched his fists, looking back down at his files as he tried to stay focused….but seeing Bim shuffling around in his peripheral, re-ordering the books on his shelves, swapping his framed pictures, moving his chairs….Dark couldn’t give less of a damn about the paperwork. Seeing Bim deliberately doing something irritating to get his attention made him snarl under his breath….because Bim was going to get his damned attention all right. Bim was smiling, unaware of Dark’s intentions, and ended up smiling in subtle triumph when Dark stood and came over to him. Bim then gasped and melted on the spot when Dark leant in and warmly kissed him, making Bim instinctively cup Dark’s face. But when they pulled back, Bim’s blood ran cold…..because Dark’s eyes had flicked to the most hellish black, and tendrils of his aura were starting to ooze and flick out from his body threateningly. Of course though, amidst his trembling, Bim ended up smiling when Dark’s eyes met his, and he growled.

‘Run.’

Bim didn’t stand on ceremony, he sprinted out of the office as fast as his legs could carry him, and Dark followed behind, but at a calm amble. He knew his Bim, he knew where he would run to, so he had no need to needlessly exhaust himself. Dark smirked as he heard Bim’s hurrying footsteps head down the familiar route to their shared bedroom, and he followed smugly. Bim’s heart was pounding and his mind was frantic with giddy excitement and nervousness, because this kind of chase only had one outcome….and though it would be torturous, he just couldn’t wait. And he didn’t have to wait long, because the sound of a door slamming shut made Bim whirl around, and he trembled cutely at the sight of his intimidating, handsome Darkiplier smiling at him, his deep voice like velvet.

‘So adorably predictable my darling.’

Dark surged forwards and wrapped his tendrils around Bim’s waist, pulling him close so that they were nose to nose. Bim started of course giggling up a storm, nibbling his lip cutely as he stammered.

‘H-Hi darling….’

Dark smirked, and tenderly stroked Bim’s cheek to make him purr and melt. He was just too damn adorable.

‘Hello my dear….I have a feeling, that you’re wanting some of my attention?’

Bim nodded softly with bright eyes, but then gasped when Dark suddenly gripped his wrists. He trembled with a cute, giddy smile….he should have known that Dark would lull him into a melted, false sense of security before he struck. And now, Bim knew he was about to strike, from how Dark snarled into his ear.

‘Then let me assure you, that you now have my undivided attention….though you may end up regretting drawing my focus onto you, my love.’

Bim gulped, he knew Dark was going to be so evil with him….and he couldn’t bloody wait. Dark didn’t hesitate to push him onto their bed, using more inky, strong tendrils to pin his arms above his head. Dark grinned ferally down at him, making Bim whimper sweetly with wide eyes.

‘P-Please baby b-be nice-EEEK!’

‘Nice? You’ve been irksome all damn day, you don’t get to decide how nice I am….’

Dark growled deeply as he leant in close, eagerly starting to nibble and nip the shell of Bim’s ear with his fang-like teeth. Bim was instantly squealing and giggling insanely at how much it tickled, and his face had already gone pink too.

‘N-Nahahaha D-Dahahaharky p-p-plehehehease!’

Dark smirked and snickered, replying with a purr.

‘Ohhhh yes, squeal my name, there’s a good lee….’

Bim did indeed keep on squealing, and writhing too as he beamed from all the affectionate tickling.

‘Plehehehehease plehehease Dahaharky nohoho nihihibbles!’

Dark chuckled, and made Bim snort by nibbling his lobe as he replied playfully.

‘But you taste so delightful, I don’t think I could ever possibly stop….’

Dark delightfully kept on nibbling, adoring all of the sounds that Bim was making and feeling incredibly satisfied that he was already reducing his boyfriend to a complete mess. Bim struggled, tugging at him arms weakly as he implored, feeling so flustered.

‘Nohohoho I-Ihihi’m sahaharry!’

‘Oh no my darling don’t be sorry, I’m glad you tempted me into doing this…..it’s been too long since I’ve wrecked you.’

Bim spluttered and squeaked, trying to scrunch up as Dark teasingly kissed and nibbled down his neck, whilst simultaneously curling his devilish digits against Bim’s bare sides. Bim arched his back with a bright smile, his heart pounding from it all.

‘N-Nohohononono n-nahat my sihides I-Ihi cahan’t!’

Dark laughed in fond amusement, kissing down Bim’s chest and tummy now as he let out playful, tiny growls, because he knew they flustered Bim to no end. Then, Dark’s lips reached Bim’s bare side, hovering and teasing the skin along with his stubble and breath, and Bim squeezed his eyes shut with a nervous whine when Dark crooned.

‘Oh you can…..and you will.’

Dark didn’t hesitate. He eagerly and sloppily knawed at Bim’s side, making Bim instantly shriek and cackle. He tried to jerk to the side, but with Dark on top of him he could barely move….of course however, Bim loved it this way.

‘AHAHAHA NAHA YOHOHOU’RE EHEVIL! YOHOHOU FEHERAL BAHASTARD!’

‘Ohoho darling, feral doesn’t even begin to cover it….’

Dark made a point of snarling and baring his teeth at Bim for a moment, making Bim flush a deep, handsome red, before continuing to laugh as Dark just knawed and knawed and knawed at his sensitive flesh.

‘NAHAHA C’MAHAHAN YOHOU KNOHOW THAT FLUHUHUSTEHERS MEHEEE!’

Dark sneered. Oh of course he knew that him acting like a beast flustered Bim, that’s why he was doing it! Dark lightly nipped and kissed along Bim’s waistline now on the way to his as yet untouched side, making Bim buck as Dark replied with teasing affection.

‘Oh I know, and may I say you look ever so handsome when you’re a blushing mess like this.’

Oh how Bim wished he could have hidden his face. He let out a flustered whine amidst his cackles at the compliment, because now Dark was attacking his fresh side with his ravenous tickling.

‘NAHAHAHA BAHAHABY PLEHEHEEEASE!!’

Dark laughed softly, nipping and kissing deep into Bim’s side in the most loving, tickly way that he could muster.

‘Mmmmm, coochie coochie coo dear.’

Bim threw his head back with mirth, but he couldn’t do much more since Dark’s tendrils kept holding him tight and secure. The sweet man was also starting to get tears in his eyes now from all the rapid tickling, and his begging only continued.

‘PLEHEHEEEASE NAHAHAT MY SIHIHIDES AHANYMOHOOORE!!’

Dark chuckled, and his eyes gleamed as he reared up and crooned.

‘Alright darling, I won’t tickle your sides anymore….how about a place that I know you like, hm?’

Bim’s breath got caught in his throat, his eyes widening as he felt Dark rest his hands on top of his thighs. He started to smile and giggle prematurely as Dark raised a playful eyebrow down at him….and as a result, it meant he couldn’t help but be a little playful in return with a quaint little mumble.

‘…..Y-Yohou gonna use yohour mouth there tohoo?’

Dark snickered fondly, feeling warm butterflies in his stomach. Bim’s cheekiness was one of the many things Dark loved about Bim, and it made Dark smile as he gave Bim’s thighs a teasing, soft squeeze.

‘Ordinarily I’d adore nothing more than to give your pretty thighs some kisses and nibbles, which I know would make you melt beyond sanity…..’

Bim mewled and squirmed at the thought of the sweet affection….but of course….Dark was merely getting Bim to let his guard down, so his forthcoming onslaught would be all the more intense. And oh boy was it intense. Dark ruthlessly squeezed Bim’s thigh muscles, making Bim scream with shocked delight as Dark sneered down at him.

‘But, only good boys get to melt. Unfortunately bad boys, like you, may only laugh and scream.’

‘NOHOHAHAHAHAHA DAHAHAHARKYYYY!!! STAHAHAAAA!!!’

Bim was writhing and almost mad with mirth as Dark tickle tortured his worst spots, his mouth and eyes were wide as tears trickled down his red, hot cheeks. Dark meanwhile let out a long, satisfied sigh as he crooned.

‘Glad you riled me into giving you attention? Is this the sort of thing you were after sweetheart?’

Bim’s screams got adorably high-pitched as Dark moved his squeezing to Bim’s soft, squishy inner thighs, making Bim cry out desperately.

‘PLEHEHEHEEEASE NOHOHO MOHOHOHOOOORE!!!’

Dark smirked, still squeezing as he also vibrated his thumbs deep into Bim’s inner thighs. He leant down and purred in Bim’s ear, his voice deep and hypnotising and flustering, everything that Bim loved.

‘Say you’re sorry for being naughty.’

‘IHIHIHI SAHAHAHARRY FOHOHOHOR BEHEHEING NAHAHAUGHTEHEHEEEEE!!!’ PLEHEHEHEEEE!!!’

Dark’s smirked then dimmed into a fond, loving, and admiring smile. To him, Bim always looked immeasurably handsome when he was laughing….when he was happy beyond measure. Dark had swift mercy, letting his tendrils recede back into his body as Bim panted and gasped. Dark cocked his head down at Bim, and stroked though his hair gently as he purred.

‘Good boy……as always, I forgive you….and admire you for yet again being so delightfully cheeky.’

Bim giggled brightly and breathily at the compliment, before letting out a soft mewl when Dark came in close and kissed him. Bim crooned with delight as Dark made out with him, because Dark always loved using kissing as a way to really show the depth of his love. Bim certainly didn’t complain. Bim buried his fingers in Dark’s hair as he smiled and mumbled.

‘Ihi love you, I love you so much….you’re so perfect and make me feel so good….’

Dark smiled into Bim’s lips, and stroked his cheek as he murmured.

‘Even when I make you scream and beg?’

Bim giggled, and he waggled his eyebrows goofily up at Dark as he purred.

‘Especially when you make me scream and beg.’

Dark let out an exaggerated gasp, making Bim laughed, and he laughed even more when Dark softly tickled his hips and teased.

‘You naughty little minx, I think I’m going to have to teach you another lesson.’

‘Oho plehease do.’

Dark laughed a bright, happy laugh….a laugh right from the heart that married with Bim’s own mirth oh so perfectly. Of course, that’s because it was a laugh that only Bim could coax from him. They both laughed and giggled with each other as they made out, and each of them loved the other person with all the energy they had until they were both sound asleep in each other’s arms. As the song goes, if you wanna know what love is….well….this is it.

WOOOOO HOPE YOU ALL LIKED THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DID WOOOO LUV YOUS XX

#markiplier #markiplier egos #darkiplier #dark #bim trimmer #bim #sfw #romantic #prompt #ego fic #ego fanfic #tickle fic #tickle fanfic #tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #luv these cuties

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soft---darkness · 5 years

Text

Liquid Confidence

Wheeeew!! This took FOREVER to write. My apologies for the delay friends! I'm really proud of this piece, even if it is grossly sweet xD I hope you guys like it! Enjoy....

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Liquid Confidence

Eric laughed loudly as he held the cup of punch up to his lips. He wasn't completely sure what Bing was talking about but it was funny. The Ego’s were currently having a New Year's party and Eric was quite glad that he had agreed to come. He could remember feeling nervous and being unsure about coming, but he suddenly couldn't remember why. The thought made him laugh again, and he grabbed at the kitchen counter to keep from swaying. Nerves and anxiety...they were silly things. Eric felt neither of them at the moment and instead focused on the warm and dizzy feeling in his head

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Dark sighed deeply as he walked down the stairs. He had hoped that the other Egos would have kept their partying quiet, but it seemed that he had been wrong. Rather than sit at his desk and glare at his papers unproductively, Dark decided that he might as well make sure that no one died or set the kitchen on fire.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Dark took notice of the pair of Egos in the living room. Dr. Iplier and Bim were sitting together on the couch, talking together mildly. However, that conversation quieted considerably when they took notice of Dark’s ringing aura as he approached. Dark suppressed a grin as he watched the two pairs of eyes flit over to him, only to look away again. He did not mind that the other Egos were afraid of him. In fact, he quite liked it. It helps him stay in control as a leader and-

“Dark!” Dark startled as his name was called out, and quickly turned towards the shout. He blinked in surprise as Eric stumbled up to him, half falling and half throwing himself at Dark.

“Eric?” He questioned, reaching out and steading Eric by lightly grabbing his shoulders. “Are you okay?” He couldn't help feeling concerned as Eric smiled up at him. It was rare that they interacted with each other with any other Egos around, but Eric had run right up to him. Not to mention that he wasn't particularly...steady. But Eric only giggled and nodded, reaching up to grab Dark’s shoulders in return. Dark opened his mouth to protest or say something else, but Eric had already tugged him closer and put his mouth against Dark’s own.

Both the Doctor and Bim gasped in shock and then went quiet, glancing at each other in worry. The Doctor tensed, certain that he was about to see Eric get shoved away and attacked by an angry demon. Bim just turned away and closed his eyes, not wanting to see what would happen next.

But, instead of the expected fight and bloodshed, warm, rich laughter filled the room. The two looked again in bewilderment to see Dark with his head tossed back, laughing in amusement. It was a warm and friendly laugh that nobody had expected or ever heard from Dark. They were used to the sadist chuckle that the demon would sometimes let out, but nobody had ever heard him laugh. It was jarring to the other two Egos, but more than anything they were relieved. Neither had wanted to see Eric get ripped to shreds, and Dr. Iplier was enjoying his break from the constant Doctoring the others needed.

The relief was short lived though. It was quickly replaced with confusion and curiosity. What the hell had just happened?

When Dark had managed to collect himself, he turned to the two and tried to give an explanation, but was stopped by lips on his neck. He tensed slightly and gave a warning growl, reaching up to gently pull Eric away and hold him at a slight distance. Eric whined and tried to resist slightly, but quickly resigned when he saw that Dark was not going to let go. He pouted softly to himself as he glared at the hands holding him so softly.

Dark just chuckled softly and rolled his eyes, entertained Eric's behavior. “Eric darling, you're drunk.” He stated bluntly, very amused by the situation.

Dr. Iplier raised an eyebrow at the pet name and glanced at Bim, who just shrugged in response. At this point, the two were just watching silently on the couch, not saying anything in fear of disrupting the one situation where they had ever seen the demonic entity be affectionate. It was incredibly interesting to Dr. Iplier, and he found himself wishing he had a clipboard to take notes. Bim just watched in astonishment, wondering if this was just a weird fever dream.

Eric seemed to be the only one not having a good time. He was still terribly disappointed about being kept away by him lover, and despite Dark’s gentle tone, he was not reconciled. “No I'm not! I haven't had ANYTHING but punch!” To prove his point, Eric picked up his cup form where he had sat it on the floor and showed it off proudly. Dark smirked softly and took the cup from Eric's hand, sniffing at the pinkish liquid inside. He cringed away slightly at the reek of alcohol and gazed questioningly at Eric.

When Eric didn't react Dr. Iplier piped up, almost hesitantly. “Ah...Wilford spiked the punch earlier. I tried to tell everyone that I ran into, but I must have missed Eric.” The doctor smiled apologetically at Dark as Bim giggled into his hand.

“Of course he did...I should have thought as much.” Dark just shook his head and sighed before turning back to a glowering Eric. He was still being held away and he was not pleased about it. Eric was bored of all the talk going on. He couldn't see how Dark thought that talking was more fun than making out, which was currently the only thing Eric was interested in.

“Daaaaaark…” He whined pitifully, hoping to communicate his frustration with his lover. Dark grinned in amusement and gently brought Eric against his chest. He gave the pouting ego a look of faux pity and kissed his forehead softly.

“Sorry sweetheart, we’re not doing anything while you're intoxicated.” The entity's words were said gentle enough, but they held a certain element of firmness that made it clear to Eric that he was not going to win this. Eric recognized his defeat and sighed, letting his body go slack against Dark’s as he laid his head on the demons shoulder.

“Can we at least cuddle?” His murmured words were muffled slightly by Dark’s suit but they were eligible to make Dark smile.

“Sure darling. Let's go upstairs.” The entity gently picked up a now placated Eric and turned to leave, but then looked over his shoulder at the two other egos on the couch. All of his former gentleness and amusement was gone as he stared the others down, crimson eyes hard. “Let’s keep quiet about this, hmm?” The words themselves were a request, but Dark’s tone held an unspoken threat.

Bim nodded quickly in agreement, face a little paler than normal as he avoided eye contact with Dark. Dr. Iplier just smiled gently at the the demon and spoke in a relaxed tone. “Of course dark. And let me know if he needs anything in the morning for the headache.” The doctor grinned knowingly and Dark smiled back, relaxing a bit with the two egos agreement.

“Thank you doctor. I will see you two in the morning.Goodnight.” With a nod of his head, the entity turned and slowly walked up the stairs, bringing a sleeping Eric with him.

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Eric groaned as he slowly woke up, his head heavy and pounding in a constant rhythm. Everything felt muted and Eric wasn't sure for a moment if he was underwater or not. He blinked his eyes open slowly, wincing as sunlight streamed past the window onto his face. He felt like he had been either run over or beaten up. What had happened last night?

Eric startled slightly when he realized he didn't even know the answer to that question. He knew there had been a party; a new years party. He also remembered that Wilford had convinced him to come, and Dark had declined, and...Eric strained to remember further, but stopped when the harsh pounding in his head got worse. He whimpered softly, wanting to be able to think clearly but being stopped by the pain.

Eric had started to get slightly distressed when he suddenly felt a cold pair of hands touch his forehead and shoulder. He sighed in relief when he felt them and sluggishly opened his eyes again. He smiled softly when he saw Dark looking back.

“Good morning Mister party animal…” Dark murmured, grinning knowingly. He kept his voice low and quiet, knowing all too well the kind of headache Eric had. Eric just gazed at him questionaly, suddenly worried.

‘Dark...W-what happened last n-night?” Dark’s mischievous grin was making him nervous. Had he done something odd? And what was “Mister party animal” supposed to mean?!

“Well my darling, you unknowingly drank some spiked punch at the New Years party and got quite wasted.” Dark ran a soothing hand through Eric's soft hair as he spoke, laughing softly as Eric's gaze became more alarmed as he continued to speak. “And then, when I can down stairs, you proceeded to try and make out with me in front of Dr. Iplier and Trimmer…much to their surprise.”

Eric's face dropped and he paled considerably. He had made advances on Dark in front of the others?! How was Dark being so calm about this? He gasped softly as he his head throbbed as his panic increased, eyes clenched shut.

Dark sighed softly, his previous humor gone with Eric's distressed reaction. “Come now sweetheart, it's alright.” He ran soothing hands over his boyfriends neck and shoulders, using his cold body to try and relax the other. He shifted his body over slightly, moving to lay next to Eric and hold him against his chest.

Eric relaxed into the hold, letting Dark calm him down enough to talk again. “W-what a-are we going to d-do?” They had both decided early in their relationship that it would be best for them to keep them a secret, but that seemed unlikely now.

Dark just hummed softly in response, thinking it over slowly. “Well, I suppose we should tell the others. I'm alright with it if you are. It's about time anyway, hmm?”

Eric looked at Dark in surprise, but his excitement could be seen as well. “R-really?” He had wanted the others to know for awhile, but hadn't been sure how to bring it up. He was very surprised that Dark was okay with it, but overjoyed anyway.

“I don't see why not...won't hurt anyone.” Dark paused for a moment to think and then tighten his hold on Eric slightly. “But later. First I still need to cuddle you like I promised.” He grinned against Eric, knowing that he didn't fully know what was going on. Eric just smiled and relaxed against the entity. He didn't remember what Dark was referring to, but he wasn't about to refuse the others love.

And anyway, what was the rush?

#darkiplier #eric #softdarkness #my writing

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joshslater · 5 years

Text

Grimsby pt. 1

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Butcher Jones was pacing around in my apartment, poking, prodding and lifting every one of my possessions in the mess. I sat quiet on a chair and made every effort to look at Butcher Jones and not at the mountain of muscle standing at the door, preventing me from running out. Butcher Jones wasn't that old, perhaps mid forties, and looked slim, almost frail. It was hard to know if his nick name butcher was a sarcasm that stuck, or if there was something more sinister behind it.

"I don't see much of value around here. Do you?", Butcher Jones asked, looking down in a kitchen drawer.

"The loan wasn't for home improvements", I replied, immediately regretting the slightly sarcastic retort. Why could I not keep my mouth shut? This was what got me in trouble to begin with.

"That's a shame... Such a shame... Would be awfully convenient for both of us if there was something here I could bring with me, and we would be even. But there isn't is there?" "No, sir." "And there is no way you can scrape together that amount of money within the week.” "I think I can work someth.." "I wasn't asking." "Yes, sir. No, sir."

I glanced towards the door. The mountain of muscle was standing perfectly still just in front of the apartment door, without expression and just waiting to be told what to do. Lift something. Smash something. Break someone.

"And if you can't give me my money, isn't that stealing?" "Yes, sir." "I can't let people steal from me unpunished, can I?" "N-No, sir."

The muscle appeared unarmed, like that would make a difference. Butcher Jones dragged the other chair around the table, placed it in front of me and sat down. He looked exceptionally ordinary. Probably a good thing in his line of work.

"If you sold everything in here, how much could you get from it?" "£10,000 perhaps" "Not even close. And that still wouldn't make us even, would it?" "No, sir. No, it wouldn’t."

I wanted to look away, to look down, anywhere, but he held a steady stare into my eyes, and I wasn't sure what to do. Was it a dare, a game of chicken, some sort of power move?

"I'll buy it. All this shit, your apartment deposit and you work for me for three months, then we're even. Is that fair?"

It was so unexpected and he blurted it out so fast I barely registered what he said. Basically he takes everything I own and own my ass for a quarter. There was an unspoken "or else" in there somewhere too.

"Yes..."

"You're worried about where to sleep. What to eat." He got up on his feet quickly and patted me on my shoulders. "You're working for me now, so everything will be taken care of. You still work for Ross' Repairs?"

"When they have anything for me."

"I’ll tell them you’ve quit. I have a special assignment for you. An undercover kind of deal. I need you to go somewhere, blend in and just be part of the community for a while. Think you can do that?"

That was how I less than two hours later sat on a train to Grimsby, through Doncaster. The only thing I owned was the clothes on my back. The two most valuable items on me was the £54.30 train ticket and a crappy Huawei phone. The ticket was about to become worthless and the phone was lent to me by Butcher Jones. He took my smartphone after I had recorded a vague “I’m away for a long while” voice message, and gave me the shitty phone to receive assignment updates to.

With a three hour ride I had plenty of time to think through what had just happened. He was right that I didn't really own anything of value, so walking away from my stuff wasn't that big of a deal. I might have been able to pay him back if I worked really hard for three months, but to be debt free after three months of "blending in" was pretty sweet deal. Hopefully I wouldn't have to do anything too illegal.

I only had 10 minutes to switch train in Doncaster, and didn't have time to grab a lunch bite. It didn't even dawn on me until on the second train that I couldn’t even if I had time. I don't have a penny on me. If only I could have had breakfast before I left.

Arriving at Grimsby Town station I didn't have any further directions. I would be picked up by Declan, whoever that was, and he would tell me what to do.

Some guy decked out exclusively in Nike gear shouted obnoxiously close to me. "Oi! Chayse!" It wasn't until the third or fourth time I realized that was the name of my cover identity.

"Sorry, mate. Chayse Brown." "Fucks sake youse head filled with cotton innit. This way."

Before I had time to work out if it was a ribbing or genuine insult, he was walking towards the ticket hall. He looked to be about my age, perhaps even younger. Unkempt hair, tired look and an unlit cigarette in the corer of his mouth. He was dressed in hideous trainers, grey Nike air joggers, a Nike air sweater in a few different shades of grey, and a black back pack.

"Ere we are. Get changed. All of it."

He pulled out a filled plastic Tesco bag from his backpack and handed over to me. I looked at him quizzically, and he impatiently motioned towards the handicap restroom.

While desperately trying to avoid having me or any piece of clothing touch the floor, I replaced my shirt, T-shirt, jeans, socks, underwear and shoes with the items from the bag. It wasn't like a massive downgrade. My underwear were all supermarket packs, my Levis and shirt second hand, and the rest was mainly a difference in style. But once I had the new sneakers, white socks, Lacoste polo, and Nike joggers on, I certainly looked like I had been downgraded. But I couldn't deny that Declan and I looked like mates. I was here to blend in.

"Hey, you got anything to eat." "Take this" He handed over the cigarette from his mouth. "No, thanks. I don't smoke." "You do now. Jones' orders." Begrudgingly I put the damp end in my mouth. "Light?" "In the car"

The car, a beaten up, green Vauxhall Corsa, was parked illegally just outside the station. Once inside he tossed his backpack with my clothes in the back and tossed me a lighter.

"I should light it in here?" "Why not?"

It was probably a good thing to start smoking on an empty stomach, as my coughing turned into nausea while Declan almost couldn't handle the car as he was pissing himself. Once he had recovered from laughter he promised to teach me properly after the appointment.

“What appointment?” “A do-over at the barbs’. Mr. Jones want you to look proper mint ASAP.” Declan took back the cigarette, put it in his mouth, and then fumbled in the pile of trash in his door compartment. He found what he was looking for and tossed me a small pack of something. “Nicotine patches?” “I reckon ya needed help until ya lit fags proper” “Thanks, I guess.” “And put yous trackies in ya socks like a proper lad” “Like this?” “Mint fucker and a” Apparently that was a yes, because he looked approvingly at what I’ve done to my socks. It felt wrong.

We stopped in a residential area, and at first I didn’t even see the hair dresser. It was located in the basement of an apartment building. As we entered a middle eastern man greeted us with a big smile and offered us tea. Declan declined for both of us and proceeded to give short instructions for my haircut. Skin sides and four mills top. I didn’t really know what that meant, but only a few minutes later I could see the result. An oval island with short hair on top of my head, and essentially no hair elsewhere. It was almost a shock what huge difference it made. I looked brutal in an unpleasant way. Seeing the actual shape of the skull, specially in the back, weirded me out. My ears looked bigger too.

“You gonna havta like do yous every 2 weeks hear me? 4 mills.” “I hear you” “Let’s do ears then.”

Declan laghued way to much about his own joke before instructing Muhammad to pierce both earlobes and insert a cheap looking glass healing stud. Mohammad told me to keep them in at all times for the next two months. Definitively not remove them at all for the first few weeks, or it could start to bleed.

“You have time to mint brows?” Declan asked Muhammad. “I have time.” he answered.

I had no idea what they talked about, but Muhammad swapped to a different trimmer attachment and did a few well practiced strokes over my eye brows. He then picked up a spool of black thread, pulled out an arms length and twisted it in some weird way. Finally he put it against my skin and using a process I’d never seen before pulled out hairs, shaping the eyebrow. It hurt like hell. I grabbed my trackies and clenched my fists white.

“You want any slit?” He asked me. “Aye, two on left” Declan answered for me.

Muhammad used a different trimmer and carefully shaved two slits in my left eyebrow. As he stepped aside I didn’t see myself in the mirror. In less than 30 minutes I had been totally transformed. Between the brutish haircut, punk eyebrows and douchy ear studs there was little of me left. I had an uneasy feeling that this was moving way too fast, like I was being erased. But then that was the point with undercover, wasn’t it? I could understand why Butcher Jones wanted this done before I met anyone local.

“Oi, pose here. I’ll send a snap to Butcher”, Declan directed.

“Trackies out of yous socks again.”

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