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atticssmellgood · 2 months

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‘Cause You’re Not Home (You’re Never Home)

Alex Turner x GN!reader(no specific pronouns used)

Summary: He’s been acting distant lately

Word count: 2.1k

Contains: Angst, hurt/comfort, cursing

A/N: This is a request from forever ago that I just now got an idea for. I may or may not have shed a few tears while writing it🥰 this is my first time writing angst in a romantic setting be nice please🙏

(Title is from Bratty B by Best Coast)

Tossing and turning never seemed to quell the pit of anxiety that was continuing to build little by little each night. Nor did it make the bed feel any less cold and empty as you laid in it.

It was easy enough for the first couple weeks to accept Alex’s behavior as apart of his job. Hell, you knew exactly what you were getting into when you married someone in the music industry. But as days and nights stretched by and you saw your husband less and less, something deep in you stirred. A sense of loneliness, maybe? Or perhaps it was insecurity, fear that he had gotten tired of you.

Either way, it kept your mind racing and your eyes wide open.

You sat up in bed, running a frustrated hand through your hair as you stared at the adjacent wall.

Your gaze turned to land on the phone resting atop the bedside table, charging.

Maybe he sent a text?

That sliver of hope escapes you as the phone screen lights up and displays nothing but the time, alongside a picture of you smiling as Alex pressed a kiss to your cheek.

You stare at the photo until the screen goes black, shrouding you in darkness once more.

Something aches in your chest as you glance at his side of the bed. The lack of him leaving you feeling cold.

But the feeling is quickly replaced by surprise as you hear the front door to the house open, the floorboards creaking under Alex’s familiar steps.

After a moment of contemplation, you find yourself quietly exiting the bedroom and making your way downstairs. You stop when you reach the bottom and see a very disheveled Alex.

His slight swaying indicates an air of inebriation, and his eyes convey a sort of mental exhaustion too heavy to hide.

“Love…?” You speak, breaking the settled silence like throwing something into still water.

His head immediately jerks up, surprise flickering across his features before being blanketed by a stoic expression. He turns away.

“You’re up late.” His voice is blank. It’s more of an observation or a statement rather than any sort of question.

The anxiety you feel is replaced by a sort of angry sadness. The two mixed together made for a nauseating combination.

“Where have you been?” You’re a little firm in your words, approaching to stand beside him. He smells of alcohol and doesn’t meet your eyes.

“Out. The studio session ran late.”

You feel your emotions bubble up at that. He didn’t even try to come up with something convincing.

“Don’t lie. You smell like alcohol, you’re swaying…” You cross your arms. “And I sincerely doubt that they would keep you until three in the morning, Alex.”

Alex clenched his jaw, his eyes finally turning to meet yours. What was found in them was unsettling. Ugly.

“Why are you so concerned about where I’ve been?” He snapped “I’m home. That’s the only thing that matters.”

You were taken aback for a moment before your frustration built.

“You have no right to talk to me like that. I’m just trying to figure out why the hell you’ve been coming home so late for the past couple weeks.”

Alex sneered, running a stressed hand through his already tousled hair. “God, can you leave me alone for five seconds??”

Your jaw clenched. “You’ve barely talked to me in days.”

“I know. It’s been bliss without your constant nagging.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

You shoot the question at him, your anger only growing.

Then, it was almost like something in him gave way as he sneered.

“Me? What’s wrong with me??” He laughed, but there was no humor or lightheartedness to be found as he turned to face you fully, pointing at your chest.

“You don’t know shit. All you do is cling to me every second of every fucking day, and you expect me to not want a little space???” He scoffed.

You can feel a small fracture in your chest as he berates you, your anger diminishing ever so slightly.

…have you really been too clingy?

You shrink into yourself a little, swallowing as you avert your gaze to the bouquet of flowers he had gotten you last month sporadically.

You put them in a vase on the kitchen counter, but now their once vibrant colors were pushed out to make way for the darker ones that came with death.

Alex continued to ramble on at you.

“I’m gone for one hour and I look on my phone to see a dozen missed calls from you. Can you not just fucking trust me for once? Is it really that hard?”

You feel your anger come back at full force when he says that, the rage bubbling up before you could suppress it.

“I’m just worried about you!” Your voice raises, and that’s what sets everything in motion.

“You’re treating me like a goddamn child!”

“Well maybe I wouldn’t if you weren’t acting like one!”

“Maybe if you stopped hovering over me I wouldn’t need to be so distant!”

The yelling between the two of you continued, only growing louder until Alex said something that made both of you stop.

“God, I can’t believe I married you!”

The room fell eerily silent after that.

Alex’s face was one of shock, as if he had only overheard the argument you were having rather than participated in it.

His words eventually processed, and you felt your heart drop. Your anger dissipated, leaving only a harsh pain in your chest.

Your fears weren’t supposed to come true. They were supposed to be silly, insignificant things that were only the result of insecurities or passing anxious thoughts.

The wedding ring on your finger suddenly felt like it weighed ten tons as you stared at each other.

The one who breaks the silence is Alex, stepping forward a little, reaching over but stopping just short, as if he were scared he’d get burned.

“Love, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s alright.” You murmur, swallowing. It was far from alright.

The tension was so thick it almost anchored time in its place.

You wanted to be anywhere but here, with Alex staring at him silently. Like he was begging for something.

“…I think I should get some sleep.” You don’t look at him. “I have to get up for work in the morning.”

————

Those were the last words you had spoken to him in the past several hours.

Alex was close to ripping his hair out because of his own stupidity, his mind and body filled with nothing but pure guilt as he thought about his words.

The look on your face was still fresh in his mind, plaguing him with a certain clarity he wish he could erase.

What was wrong with him?

The issue wasn’t you. It was never you. It never would be you.

His old habits had come back to haunt him after they wrapped up the tour. Right before this whole ordeal started.

The adrenaline had worn off, leaving Alex with nothing but a shell of himself.

A costume with nothing underneath.

The persona he projected to everyone else was something he’d grown used to. And yet it wasn’t him.

He hated himself for it.

Hated the fears and insecurities he harbored.

Hated that he didn’t feel like the man he was underneath all the leather and hair gel was enough.

Not for anyone.

And especially not for you.

Drinking was something he fell back on. He was too scared to admit to you this growing pit of emptiness he felt every time he looked in the mirror. Too scared of your reaction.

It hadn’t been his intention to push you away and shut you out, but he had done so regardless, inadvertently proving himself right.

You were too good for him.

But maybe this was the eye-opener he needed in order to mend the rift between the two of you. The little shove to make him realize that he was the one damaging things.

And that’s what led to the moment you were at now.

Work had been horrible that day, and it was even worse when the scene from the night before was replaying in your head on a constant loop.

But you weren’t expecting the smell of food to greet you as you walked in the door.

Only when you realized someone else might be in the house did you look up to see who it could’ve been.

Alex stood in the middle of the room, rather stiffly, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand while the other held what looked like a vinyl record.

You close the door behind you and Alex’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.

You’re not sure what to say, and it’s silent until he tentatively makes his way to you, his footsteps the only sound.

He holds out the flowers to you as he stops and you take them after a small moment of hesitation.

He hands you the record as well. A special edition of your favorite album.

You look down at the gifts in your hands, your expression softening to an almost sad state. You look up to speak, but Alex beats you to it.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice is soft and gentle. A direct contrast to the anger it held last night.

He averts his eyes a little, gathering his words before looking back into your eyes.

“I know a few gifts isn’t going to make what I did or what I said go away, but…” he clenches his jaw in nervousness, but he does his best to look right at you as he speaks.

“None of those words I said last night were true. I was drunk, and angry at myself, and being a complete and utter asshole.”

“I didn’t mean to shut you out, or make it seem like I didn’t care about you. I just…”

Alex let out a shaky breath, finally letting his real feelings slip.

“I’m so afraid that I’m not enough.” He looked away finally, his voice wavering.

“That what’s underneath this rockstar persona I’ve created for myself isn’t what you want.”

“I’ve been avoiding you because I-…I’m so utterly terrified you’re going to get tired of me. Get bored of what I really am rather than the mask I wear on stage.”

He didn’t realize when tears started to pool in his waterline.

“I know I’m not good enough for you, but please know that I love you more than anything and…”

Alex trailed off, words stuck in his throat as his eyes fluttered. A few tears dripped from his lashes. He couldn’t bear to look at you.

The last thing he expected was for two warm hands to cup his face, thumbs wiping at his teary eyes.

There was silence. He didn’t dare look up.

“Alex.” Your voice was softer than it had ever been

“Look at me.”

He took a small breath, sniffling slightly as he finally gained the courage.

When his gaze met yours, he was sure he was going to be met with a look of disgust or hatred. Maybe even a laugh at the stupidity of his insecurities.

Instead, all he saw was gentle understanding.

You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs, the presents once in your hands now lying on the floor next to your feet.

You took a moment to gather your words, looking into the chocolate brown eyes you loved so much. The same ones that were now filled with tears and searching your own for some sort of answer to his confession.

You took a deep breath.

“Alex..” you tilted your head, holding his gaze.

“I fell in love with you.” Your voice was firm but still covered in a tenderness you could only ever muster when it came to him. “Not some silly costume you put on for a concert.”

“My Alex is the only one I’ll ever need, and he will always be enough.”

Alex’s heart ached as he let your words sink in.

Tears began to fall faster as the entire month’s worth of pent up emotion came spilling out.

Without another word, he pulled you into his arms tight, burying his face in your hair and holding you as if you’d suddenly disappear.

Somehow, you were willing to forgive him for hurting you. For saying awful things when you had done nothing but care for him.

Somehow, you seemed to love him for what he hid deep down. What he was afraid to show anyone else.

And somehow…

He believed every word you spoke.

#alex turner imagine #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x reader #arctic monkeys x reader #arctic monkeys #angst #hurt/comfort #alex turner #alex turner fic

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showtoonzfan · 9 months

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So I wanted to avoid talking about the Alastor Voodoo discourse, (I kinda already did on twitter) but after seeing this thread I couldn’t help but want to give my two cents on it. Putting aside the fact that Rae is a problematic bootlicker regarding Viv and was someone who took part in dismissing her victims/transphobia, I wanted to say that their idea of Alastor being white passing when he was alive COULD work. I spoke with someone who is more educated on this subject than I am, and it actually could be good representation and educate people on the challenges POC had to face due to their history of being slaves and segregated. I actually wouldn’t mind the idea that he came off as more white passing, had to force himself to speak in a different accent for the show business, and that’s the reason he was able to get a job as a radio host in the first place, since he’s mixed.

HOWEVER, it’s upsetting that this thread was created just to excuse and defend Viv’s shitty character designing and silence people who have an issue with it, especially people of color themselves. I’m mixed race as well so it’s ridiculous that Al looks the way he does for a black man, there is no reason for his demon design to not have his ethnic features, it’s as simple as that, stop telling people they shouldn’t be upset about it, the time period has nothing to do with him looking white.

Rae also seems to have a similar issue with the fanbase where they’re inserting her personal headcanons/interpretation of Alastor into the canon show. I have NO idea what they’re going on about in the second tweet because all we know about Alastor is that he has a “moral code” and possibly only goes after bad people, but we don’t know the in depth details yet or anything on how he was murdering while being a radio host, Rae’s just adding stuff that isn’t there to fit their headcanon/idea. They need to realize they’re not a writer of the show, Viv is and we haven’t seen her ideas for Alastor yet, so using a fan theory/interpretation of what you THINK he could be like just to dismiss people’s issues with him is ridiculous. This goes for the entire fanbase as well.

I don’t know why everyone is trying to excuse the fact that he doesn’t look black and defend his voodoo practices. It has nothing to do with the character, it’s the creator that’s the issue. She was the one who decided to make him mix creole, she’s the one who decided to make him practice voodoo and yet she refuses to commit to her decisions, refusing to educate herself on how to fucking draw black people and listen to POC voices on how bad using REAL voodoo symbols are. Now that I think about it, why does Alastor need to be involved in Voodoo at all. Why couldn’t he just be a serial killer radio host. Him practicing voodoo doesn’t add anything to his character, at least yet. With Dr. Facilier it kinda made sense because his voodoo is what turned Naveen into a frog, he made deals with demons to give him these powers and that’s exactly what got him killed in the end. Alastor meanwhile is a deal maker and I guess that’s what made him powerful??? It’s kinda hard to say with Viv’s shitty vague world building, but you could have easily made him a powerful overlord without that.

The point is, these issues with Alastor are on HER, not on the people complaining about it and if these people were fucking normal regarding criticism and feedback, we wouldn’t be in this mess.

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #hazbin hotel critical #helluva critical #anti vivziepop #Hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel Alastor #Alastor

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ihaechans · 11 months

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Hallows Eve || 1-800-SLASHERS - N.JM

PAIRING ▸ Na Jaemin x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut!!!!!!!!!!!

WARNINGS/CONTENT ▸ profanity, phone sex, mutual masturbation, Jaemin fear kink(?), edging, orgasm control

SUMMARY ▸When your friend told you about 1-800-SLASHERS. You could almost laugh at her. Paying people to roleplay as characters from scary movies? Who does that? But once you found yourself calling 1-800-SLASHERS way more than you’d like to admit, even going as far as using their video call feature time and time again. You don’t think you can stop.

WORD COUNT▸ 1.6k

A/N: this was kinda hard for me to make because Michael Myers has NEVER spoken in any of the movies. Also, I was too lazy to proofread so sorry for any mistakes. 😭 Part of @jenoslutie '1-800-SLASHERS' Halloween Series'

Every time you dial the number, your heart races with excitement and fear, knowing that you are about to enter a world of terror and pleasure. As the line connects, you hear heavy breathing on the other end, followed by a sinister voice.

You hesitate for a moment, trying to choose between Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers, or Jason Voorhees. Finally, you make your decision and say, "I want to talk to Michael."

The operator chuckles darkly and says, "Very well. Please hold while I connect you."

Suddenly, the screen comes to life, and there he is, Michael Myers, staring right at you from behind the screen.

His eyes bore into yours, and you can feel a shiver run down your spine. You can't help but feel a sense of excitement and fear mixed together as you stare back at him. His mask is as emotionless as ever, and you wonder why you haven't one this sooner.

You can't deny the thrill that runs through your body as you stare into those lifeless black eyes.

"Hello," you start, trying to break the silence.

You take in his surroundings through the screen, black room, dimly lit, nothing but a bed visible in the background. He's wearing a name tag on his blue jumper. Jaemin was his name.

He doesn't respond, but you can see him tilt his head slightly to the side. You feel a sense of unease, but you can't stop staring at him.

You try to steady your breathing as you watch him in silence. You can feel your heart beating faster and faster, and you realize that you're getting turned on by the fear that he evokes in you, starting to wonder what it would be like to be at the mercy of someone like Michael Myers.

Suddenly, you hear a faint sound coming from the other end of the line, and you realize that Michael Myers is breathing heavily. You can see his chest rising and falling in rhythm with his breath, and you start to feel a sense of excitement building inside you.

Without thinking, you say, "What do you want from me, Michael?" There's no response, but you can see his eyes narrow slightly, and you know that he's listening to you. You start to feel a sense of exhilaration at the thought of being watched and listened to by someone like him. You continue to stare at him, transfixed, as he remains silent.

Suddenly, you see Michael Myers moving closer to the screen, his eyes still locked onto yours. You can feel his presence invading your personal space, and yet, you find yourself wanting more.

His white mask fills the entire screen, and you can see the faint outline of his muscular body standing behind it. You feel a sudden urge to touch him, to feel his skin against yours, to experience the thrill of being with someone so dangerous. "Michael," you whisper his name again, hoping to elicit a response from him.

This time, he moves even closer, his mask almost touching the camera. You can practically feel his breath on your skin, and you shiver with anticipation. His eyes seem to be searching for something, and you wonder what it is that he wants from you.

You're not sure if it's the fear or something else that's making you feel this way, but you know that you want more of it. You want him to touch you, to take control of you, to make you feel alive in a way that you never have before.

Suddenly, Michael Myers speaks, his voice low and menacing.

"You want to know what I want from you?" he asks, his words sending a chill down your spine.

You nod eagerly, unable to speak. "I want to make you scream," he says, his voice sending shivers down your body. "I want to hear you beg for mercy while I take everything from you."

You feel a jolt of fear mixed with excitement course through your veins at his words. You swallow hard, your mouth dry as you try to reply, but no words come out. Michael Myers moves even closer to the screen, his mask filling your entire view. "I know what you want, and I can give it to you," he says, his voice deep and menacing. "I can make you feel things you've never felt before, I can make you forget everything except for the fear and pleasure I can give you."

The softness of his voice sent a wave of warmth through your body, and your heart beat grew faster as goosebumps rose up your arms. Every word he said felt like an intimate secret that was only meant for you. You're not sure if it's Michael Myers himself or the thrill of danger that's making you feel this way, but you know that you want more.

"What do I have to do?" you ask, your voice barely audible. Michael Myers leans back slightly, his eyes still locked onto yours.

"I want you to touch yourself for me," he says, his voice growing softer, deeper and more dangerous. "I want you to make yourself cum while I watch. I want you to cum until you can't remember your own name, until you're begging for me to allow you to stop. And then, I want you to start all over again."

His words send a wave of excitement through you, and you can feel your heart beat faster as you nod in agreement. You never thought you'd be so turned on by a man like Michael Myers, but you find yourself strangely attracted to him, and the thought of making yourself cum for him is more than enough to make you start.

You can feel your cheeks flush red with embarrassment as you start to tug down your pants and pull off your shirt. You can feel Michael's eyes on you as you undress, and you can't help but wonder if he's getting off at the sight of you.

You pull your shirt off, and suddenly, you can feel the cool air of your room on your chest. Your body trembles, craving for Michael to provide you with further affection.

You bite your lower lip as you see Michael's eyes staring at your breasts, and you realize that you want him to touch them. You want him to pin you down and make you feel helpless while he pounds into you without mercy.

You feel your left hand grab one of your breasts and start massaging it gently, starting with your nipple, and you can't help but moan in pleasure. You're embarrassed by the sounds that you're making, but you know that Michael is listening, and the thought of him getting turned on by your sounds of pleasure is enough to make you push yourself further.

Jaemin is still watching you, his eyes filled with lust as he leans towards the screen. You feel your right hand start to move towards your pussy, and you desperately try to push down your panties. You're embarrassed by how wet you are, but you can't help but continue to touch yourself.

You start to massage your clit with your middle finger, and you moan as you feel your pussy throbbing with pleasure and anticipation. You spread your legs slightly to give yourself more room to work, and you can feel the cool air of your room caressing the wetness of your pussy. You start to rub your clit faster, your mind filled with thoughts of Michael Myers, and you can feel your body tense up as you're getting closer to orgasm.

You can feel your heart beating faster and faster, and your breathing gets heavier as you near your climax. Just as you feel yourself about to cum, Michael Myers says, "Stop." You're about to protest, but then you realize that you can't.

You can see his hand move to the bottom of the screen, and you feel a wave of excitement run through your body as you realize that he's stroking his dick. You can't help but feel a sense of arousal at the thought of him touching himself while he's watching you.

His chest rises and falls in rhythm with his breathing, and the sight of him getting turned on by your fear makes you tense up even more. You can feel a sense of anticipation building inside you, and you realize that you want him to watch you cum. You want him to see just how much pleasure you can feel.

You slowly slide your fingers into yourself, and you can hear the sound of your juices flowing from your pussy. You can feel your pussy throbbing, your body desperately trying to cum, and you feel your thighs shake as you thrust your fingers faster into your cunt, hitting that spot that makes you dizzy.

As the waves of pleasure crash down over you, you can hear moans escaping your lips. You're embarrassed by how loud you're being, but you can't seem to stop yourself.

You can feel the rush of cum coursing through your body, and you can feel your legs shaking as you're pushed to the edge of your orgasm. You bite your lower lip, desperately trying to keep in any other sound other than moans of pleasure.

Finally, the waves of pleasure slow down and you can feel your heart beat slowing down. In that moment, you hear a faint moaning sound come from your computer speakers, and you realize that it's Michael Myers. You look at the screen, and you can see a clouded outline of where Michael Myers is, and you realize that he's cumming.

A moment of silence passes, the sound of your heavy breaths the only thing audible. Then, Michael Myers speaks. "Very good," he says, his voice soft yet somehow still sending a strange feeling of dread through your body. "We're going to have lots of fun together in the future."

#jaemin #na jaemin #Jaemin na #nct jaemin #nct jaemin smut #jaemin smut #nct dream smut #kpop smut #kpop boy group smut #boy group smut #nct #nct dream #nct u #nct u smut #jaemin fic #na jaemin fic #jaemin x reader #nct smut #ihaechans

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noirsisterhood · 6 months

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Would you agree that divestment was the 4B for Black women ? However, black women did not want to listen during the 2010s to the information that was given to them during the time

Kind of yes and no. Black women and especially younger Black women are very behind and always in a game of catch up for a variety of reasons.

So when other races of women are at the point where they’re talking about all males, Black women (are very segregated and don’t pay attention to other communities) are stuck on Black only and just now starting to see why they shouldn’t have been race loyal. That was something Black males realized since forever it’s everyone for themselves and it’s 160 years later after slavery, Black women just now looking around and realizing the situation they’re in. Everyone knows how unaware and brainwashed Black women are right now and takes advantage by getting them wrapped up in repetitive arguments about things that really don’t matter. So I like 4B because it SHOULD cut out the arguments and it’s straight to the point. I do think Black women need to stop using the name 4B, not post about it, and just participate from the sidelines quietly. 4B is a good message and lifestyle for Black women to live. It’s very direct and to the point. Korean women did it very well by moving in silence, and unfortunately western media got ahold of it and taking advantage of Black women never wanting to be quiet and strategic.

I think Black women generally have to have things explained very directly and clearly and it’s possible divestment’s message of “put yourself first” is too broad for Black women to know what to do. They basically need step by step directions and divestment just left a lot of room open for anything to come in unfortunately. I tag divestment and I am divested but I don’t feel strongly about using the word since it’s been intentionally co-opted.

Yes it’s a mix of Black women being hardheaded and not listening in 2010s and Black women being ignorant about the position they’re in and the intentions of others. Black women have a lot of power they don’t know about and have allowed literally EVERYONE to eat off them and wield that power for themselves and against us.

Like I said in that last rant of mine 😂 I really think Black women are lying about why they are clinging so hard onto that 4B name. They’ve been going at other races of women with their pro-blackness and really I would say out of jealousy because BM put them on a pedestal. Now that they’re being publicly attacked by the males they caped for, they’re hoping other races of women will also be in the same position so they have “women” to fall back on. It’s not gonna work because those women are already 3 steps ahead of Black women and setting them up for serious backlash. That’s why Black women need to be quiet and do their own thing and practice it from behind the scenes. There’s more going on than just dating issues for staying in those spaces and constantly talking about the same issues over and over is keeping Black women distracted from important topics like our history being erased, our resources being attacked, how they try to brainwash us, etc.

#anon ask #black women #black girls #divest #divestment #black women divest

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angxl-m · 1 year

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"Can't Handle It?" R. Zoro x Black!(F)Reader NSFW

MINORS DNI, ty

⚠️Warnings⚠️: dom!Zoro (hes a lil mean), switchbutmostlybottom!(Y/N), alcohol use, weed use, spitting, teasing, light spanking, light choking, pet names (slut, whore, girl, baby, mama) degradation but throw some praise in there, overstimulation(a personal fav), dumbification, fingering(f), oral(f&m), PnV, and the creamiest of pies

Reader has a fat ass 🤷🏾‍♀️

Really just some nasty sex to ease the Zoro brain rot (Pre-time skip Zoro if it matters)

Song Recs (please listen i luv sharing music <3):

It’s my first post and took me way too long, but enjoy luvrs 🫶🏾

Zoro always considered himself a patient man, regardless of the truth of the statement. As Zoro to Zoro, he was, at very least, tolerant. He’s a swordsman, it’s his obligation to be calm, collected, both at ease and alert at all times.

So for the sake of everything holy, he wondered, why- how, you managed to rile him up in all the best fucking ways.

It was infuriating.

The swordsman could practically feel his green hair singeing when it came to the thought of you, his mind working in overdrive trying to process how your hair could be so pretty while your mouth was so damn big.

Always challenging him, you weren’t stronger, that was for sure, but just as fast and with a solid sense of direction. You two were almost as bad as dartboard brow when you fought, but to Zoro you were just so fucking attractive.

His heart would race in the blue moons that you were around and totally calm, when the two of you found some sort of peace. And in times like that there was always liquor involved.

The Straw Hat Pirates had rented a small group house for a few days on the outskirts of a town on some island Luffy and Nami had decided to dock at. It was a quiet, very laid back town where everyone simply went about their business.

Turned out to be the perfect place for the crew to dock and give the Thousand Sunny and their sea-worn skin a break.

They sat on lawn chairs around a campfire in the open land behind the house, it was early morning, just breaking into 2 a.m. Nami, Luffy, Chopper Usopp, Sanji, and Brook had already fought and lost the battle to sleep and were tucked into their rooms for the night. Zoro having carried Luffy and Chopper inside.

Only Franky, Robin, you, and Zoro remained, chatting over the fire. Zoro and Robin were drinking sake while you and Franky drank Black Label Whiskey, all the bottles were acquired in the town by you and Nami as a little treat.

A delicious haze filled your head when you sipped the drink in hand, ‘the only thing that could possibly make the night better’, you thought, ‘would be some weed.’

Your shuffling broke the silence of the group, attracting their attention as you rifled through a backpack at the side of your chair.

“Stop making noise, woman.” Zoro grumbled, opening his eyes to glare in your direction.

Your rolled your eyes without sparing him a look, “Bite me”

Under other circumstances you would’ve had a much snarkier remark, but honestly, you couldn’t be bothered to feign annoyance upon finding two pre-rolled joints in the bag.

Smiling in success , you just so happened to miss the way Zoro’s eye widened at your words, his lovely asian glow intensified by the infiltrating thought of actually biting you.

That plush bronze skin that he knew smelled of cocoa butter and sweet almonds. Zoro’s gaze raked over your figure, strong thighs spilling out of your shorts, sun tanned cleavage shimmering with the flickering campfire. You had looked too alluring all fucking night.

Fuck, he felt like that Ero-fucking-cook.

Robin exchanged a knowing look with Franky, both of whom had witnessed Zoro’s reaction.

“Hey guys, found some pre-rolls in my bag. Down for a smoke?” Your voice filled the air.

Zoro grunted in acceptance, quickly taking another swig of his drink. It’s not mixed, just a tall glass of sake since Nami insisted he not drink from the bottle “like a savage.”

Robin offered you a playfully loving look, “Oh you know me so well.”

(Mommy Robin smokes do NOT pwm)

“I’ll take my leave here, I’m sure a few hits will take me out anyways.” Franky admitted, a loud yawn proving his point shortly after.

You three said your goodnights as the cyborg made his retreat to a comfy bed.

The chairs were spaced pretty decently apart, so you moved to take a seat on the grass between Robin and Zoro’s spots. You handed a pre-roll to Robin, allowing the woman to use her devil fruit power to reach a hand to the fire, effectively lighting the perfect roll.

Robin took a few quick pulls, dragging the light past the twisted end of the paper, before handing it off to you and starting the rotation.

“This,” Robin cleared her throat from a particularly harsh hit, “is some good shit.” her eyes were low and red, the lazy remains of a smile gracing her features.

Zoro nodded in agreement as you passed it to him.

“Have a little faith madame, who you know smokes more than me?” you spoke.

“Sanji.” Robin’s answer was quick to make Zoro snicker earning him a jab at his leg.

“Cigs don’t count, I’m bout to take my spliff back.” you huffed an empty threat.

Said woman only got up from her seat and patted the girl’s head, “You win (Y/N), you’re the biggest smoker. Thank you for the cyph.” The dark skin girl sprouted a victorious smile.

“However, I will be calling it a night, that Sake was a little too good.”

“Goodnight Robin, you’re always welcome to the cyphs~” You waved her off as Zoro grumbled a goodnight.

The second spliff was quick to light before you found perch on the arm of Zoro’s chair, making the rotation easier.

Another comfortable silence ensued, Zoro sneaking glances at the way the fat of your brown thighs splayed against the wooden furniture.

He was lost in thought, considering how your shimmery skin would look under the strength of his fingers. The poor man was so lost that he didn’t realize how long he had been inhaling until his lungs started to prickle and burn.

You looked over to the swordsman, curious as to why the spliff hadn’t returned yet. There he sat, face contorted and straining, before he began to cough and heave.

(if u ain’t choking, u ain’t smoking 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Grabbing the spliff before he could drop it, you clutched your stomach with laughter. You couldn’t help it, his face was just too funny.

“Fuck -hack- you” he grunted with effort, leaning backward in the chair to catch his breath. You turned, now sitting criss-crossed on the wide arm of his chair, a knee coming to rest on his ridiculously toned bicep.

“Man you wish! What? Can’t handle it?” you taunted, taking another drag. He turned his head with intentions of telling you off but was hit with your chest being pretty much level with his line of sight. On top of your usual sweet scent were the alluring notes of liquor and Zoro fucking loved that smell. It felt so raw and personal, to be up close to someone, drunk off of their intoxication.

His red eyes were trained on your face, a facade of annoyance at your words.

You eyed him back, secretly relishing in the heat of his skin against your own. The dramatic light of a slow dying fire accentuated his features so well, you couldn’t help but stare, eyes flitting from detail to detail.

Both of you had achieved a comfortable level of crossed, but in your inebriated state it definitely felt like you were much more discreet while admiring him.

You were brought back to reality by the feeling of your jaw between his fingers. “You sure it’s not you wishing for it?” Zoro’s voice was low, eyes lidded as he pulled your face level to his own.

The motion sent the first of many tingles down your spine. It’d be a lie to say you haven’t been thinking about him all night.

The subtle flex in his thigh when he shifted his legs wider, how his shirt would raise with every stretch, revealing little green hairs below his naval. His devilish tongue and how it would run up the back of his wide hand when sake splashed out of his cup.

You were much more aroused then you thought you ought to be. His words were tantalizing and your cheekiness won over as you slid from his side to straddle the man's waist, throwing the smoked out tip (the degradable kind) of the joint somewhere on the grass.

You leaned in to him, determined not to go down without some bite back, and offered a lick to the shell of his ear. Your action snapped him out of the pure shock of you in his lap, crotch so close he could almost feel your heat through his clothing.

“And if I am the one wishing?” you purred, hands coming up to caress the junctions between his neck and jaw.

You could feel Zoro’s hands on your waist, they were so thick, strong, holding you perfectly still against his body. “If I am the one thinking about you? Dreaming about just how good I could fuck you,” a hum reverberated in your throat, “What would you say?” you pressed your groin further into him, leaning back to bat your lashes.

Zoro huffed through his nose, a smirk taking over his dreamy features, his left hand sliding to grip the sides of your throat, “Then I would tell you how in over that pretty little head you are.” Alcohol lingered on his breath as he spoke, “How you’re not ready for me to fuck you.”

An airy laugh of disbelief bubbled from your constricted throat.

You had slept around a bit in your years before joining the crew and nearly every time you had sex, you were the one doing the fucking. You had men and women alike losing their minds, so it was amusing to you how bold Zoro had become.

Said man frowned at your reaction, his hold on your neck tightened and he pressed his hips up, which in turn sent a fleeting wave of pleasure to your core.

“You and that fucking laugh, (Y/N).” he all but growled, the intensity of his voice startling you. The way your name had tumbled off his lips had you subconsciously holding your breath. Zoro’s hand moved back to your face, squishing your cheeks a little hard. “So.. mocking, so.. condescending.. somebody’s got to pound that cockiness out of you.”

“Hah- you can fucking try.”

Zoro’s head tilted slightly at the challenge, observing your face for a moment, his eyes wandering, he looked deep in thought. After a second or two, his face was crashing into your own, your gasp was muffled by his lips when the swordsman kissed you. You kissed back as soon as you registered what was happening, grabbing his head, already trying to pull him closer.

His tongue forced its way into your mouth, licking against your own muscle until you reciprocated, which didn’t take long. Your tongues clashed but there was no way you were winning this time. The man quite literally fought battles with that tongue.

Teeth clacked as you took hurried breaths between kisses drowning in the taste of liquor. Zoro’s tongue wrestled yours until your jaw began to ache before drawing away. Deep breaths mingled, eye contact simmering with a drunken passion much deeper than either of you realized at the moment.

Always at each others throats for one stupid reason or the other, it had taken a while for either of you to realize how well one fit with the other. So similar yet just different enough to compliment each other.

Your hand ran through his coarse green curls, “Zoro” you mumbled softly, thumbs rubbing slow circles into his temples. The tip of your nose grazed his own as he exhaled a shaky breath. He couldn’t remember the last time you said his name with anything but annoyance or taunting, it was exhilarating, it made his heart pound.

Your lips were so smooth on him, tongues coming to brush against each other again. The kiss was so telling, your arms wrapping around his neck, it felt as if you craved him with your whole soul. Every part of you wanted every part of him.

Zoro’s battle-worn hands ran up and down your side, briefly exploring the plains of your clothed ass before gripping the bottom of your thighs. He hummed with pleasure at the weight of them, pulling you impossibly closer yet removing his lips from your own.

One of his forearms secured itself under your backside before he stood up. You didn’t even wrap your legs around his waist, didn’t need to with the way Zoro had you pinned to his muscular body. You could feel the hard ridges and angles of his sculpted figure.

With his other hand he picked up the two bottles of liquor left outside before making the short trip into the house.

In the meantime your lips found work on the expanse of his neck and broad traps. You licked, kissed, and sucked as hard as you could, determined to leave traces of your presence, a little ‘(Y/N) was here.’

Zoro opened the door with a free finger and quickly made his way to one of the rooms in the far back of the house, locking the door in the process. He grunted when you nipped at his earlobe, tongue massaging the skin behind his piercings. You loved the way the cold metal felt against your face, those earrings were the very first thing you noticed on him and the feeling of them had your pussy clenching.

He placed you down on the bed, now seeming even more massive in front of you. You stood quickly, pressing a heated kiss to his mouth, leaving a trail of kisses down his jaw and neck. Your hands made quick work of his vacation button up, allowing you more space to kiss his searing skin.

Zoro’s hum was content, grabbing his bottle of sake and taking a few heavy drinks, allowing you to kiss down his figure.

A hand ran lightly down Mihawk's scar on his front before stopping at his haramaki. He pulled it off quickly alongside his shirt, giving you access to his well defined v-line.

You were fucking drooling, it wouldn't be a surprise if you found of out he was the personification of some god, so dangerous, defined. . . delicious. His extensive training was rewarding in too many ways.

You tugged experimentally at the waistband on his shorts, looking Zoro in the eyes when you turned to him, pushing the man to sit on the bed as you sank to your knees. The sight of you so willing to stuff your mouth so full with his dick made Zoro the hardest he thinks he's ever been.

Zoro raised his hips, shimmying out of his pants, bulge even more prominent now, straining against light blue boxers. When he slipped those off too you’re eyes went a bit wide. The man was big, nine inches long and about an inch thick.

His cock slapped against solid abs, a slight curve to the left with a prominent vein on the bottom. The trail of short green hair that decorated his tanned body was in full view and that's when you decided that this must be the best sight in the world. You licked your lips, eager to get a taste of the precum squeezing from his darkened and excited tip.

Gently, you took the base of his dick in hand, leaning it towards you as you collected spit in your mouth. You let a glob dribble down to lubricate him while the green-haired man stared into your eyes.

Before you could move to put your lips on him, he was quick to tilt your chin up, the quarter full handle of whiskey in hand. You opened your mouth, tongue stuck out as you let the man pour liquor down your throat.

You drank eagerly, grabbing Zoro’s wrist when he went to pull the substance away, forcing him to keep pouring. You tightened your hold below his waist, gulping down the liquor and reveling in the burn against your throat.

‘It’s a trailer for the main event’ you reasoned with yourself.

“Fuuuck.” Zoro groaned at the sight, finally placing the bottle down somewhere you couldn't bother to acknowledge.

You licked your lips, smiling up at him the second your tongue finally met his cock, a quick breath left his lips as he studied your movements. You flattened your tongue against the underside of his hot, mushroom-y head, slowly starting to jerk your wet hand up and down his length.

You could hear Zoro's breathing get heavier and it only worked to excite you more, taking his tip into the warmth of your mouth earning a hiss from the divine man before your. Your tongue circled him as your hand increased the speed and pressure of its movements. His dick slid so comfortably in your hand, it didn't matter that you could barely get a proper hold.

An encouraging hand fell to the back of your head, tangling into the wild mane of curls that Zoro oh so adored.

You were surprised at his gentleness, not comprehending how realization had hit him like a truck the moment you lowered yourself between his knees. Here you were, (Y/N) (L/N), the woman who managed to frustrate him to no end, who took over both his active and unconscious mind, who's thought had him whining and finishing himself with an embarrassing vigor.. was right here. Fulfilling a desperate fantasy of his just as eager, maybe even more so, than he was.

With every jerk of your hand, you took the man deeper into your mouth, the first soft groan dripped off his lips and you hummed with some pride. The vibration from your throat caused Zoro to grip at your hair, his back hunching over as the pleasure of your tight lips built higher and higher.

It was a struggle, fighting back your gag reflex, but you successfully covered his entire length, your hand now massaging at his tightening balls.

"Fu-uck your so good at this," Zoro's voice broke slightly at first. His demeanor had changed when he could feel his abdomen clenching, almost painfully, grappling with the conflicting pleasures of leaning back and letting you work his cock so wonderfully or fucking that cute little face.

He chose the latter.

Zoro pulled your head halfway off of him before pushing you back down, ensuing a startled moan and the swallowing of your throat around his heavy cock. "You're such a fucking whore, sucking this dick down your throat. Just can't get enough can you?" he leered, heavy eyes narrowed in your direction.

Your eyes glistened from your efforts as you looked up at him in horny surprise, you could feel an unbearable wetness between your legs from the dirty way he spoke to you. You were the one to drive people insane with your words, but you had to suck it up for now considering his dick was currently plugging your throat. Wet squelching sounded in the room, spit bubbling at the corners of your lips as Zoro began to use your mouth much faster.

Your arousal was rising exponentially as Zoro's strained grunts and cusses became louder and more frequent. They were so guttural, rumbling straight from his chest, you couldn't help but moan out on his cock, slurping and gargling as he face-fucked you to his likening. Your eyes rolled back and spit coated your chin, the feeling of your wet throat fluttering around him was sending him closer and closer to that edge.

He didn't want to cum down your throat, at least not tonight, and you knew that. Zoro tugged at your hair, a half-assed attempt at pulling you off, but your eyes returned to his own, brows furrowed in genuine agitation as you swatted at his hand. You would just have to make him cum again is all.

Taking the reigns, you began to viciously deep throat the swordsman, your hands balanced on the tree stumps he had for thighs; pressing your tongue against the sensitive spot at the very base of his cock and dragging it up before slamming your nose back into curly green hair on his pelvis. "Sh-shit (Y/N), fuck." Zoro groaned out above you, his breaths labored while his hand fisted your roots with a delicious burn.

"Mhmmm" you struggled to moan around him, his balls tightened in your hand and with a few more bobs of your head Zoro was spurting hot streams of viscous cum right down your throat.

You pulled your head off of him with a final harsh suck that had him shuddering, looking Zoro in his lustful eyes as you swallowed his load. He tasted good, a little sweet, salty, and tangy, pretty much everything about sucking Zoro's dick was proving to be both fun and rewarding.

With one last kiss to his sensitive tip, you raised to stand up, the movement of your jeans adding a bit of friction to your neglected core.

Zoro's eye followed you, hands coming to rub up and down your exposed waist as he caught his breath. Carefully, you pulled the cropped tank-top over head, discarding it somewhere in the room. Zoro's fingers fiddled with the button on your denim shorts, popping it open and pulling the zipper down.

You peered into black pupils as his hands tugged on the waist of your bottoms, he had to put in a fair bit of effort to get the material over your behind, "How'd you even get into these?" Zoro wondered more to himself than anything, marveling at the way he could see the sides of your ass jiggle from the front.

Sure Zoro had been with his fair share of women, a few men, but not a single one had captivated him the way you could. They didn’t even come close.

On top of that, only once the man finally managed to get your pants down to your ankles did he notice the soft, bright green, thong-like underwear and black lace bra you were wearing.

A low whistle streamed from Zoro's lips as he eyed you like a full set of weights, he twirled his finger around, "Spin for me," he said, somewhat as a suggestion but you smiled, turning a full 180 and looking back at him over your shoulder. His fingers traced patterns over your hips, your backside his center of attention before you turned back to face him.

"This f’me too?" he tugged at the elastic of your panties, the hue was a close match to his hair, plus, everyone knew that green was his color. Obviously.

You winked, crawling on top to straddle him once more, your wet core pressing against his hardening cock through the fabric. "Maybe they are. I was hoping you'd be taking them off for me."

Zoro groaned into the air, pressing his hips up into yours, his hands on your waist pulling you down. The pressure made you hum with delight, but before you could start to grind on him, Zoro was quick to roll over.

“I did say I’d be the one fucking you.” he pointed out with nonchalance, finally able to admire your form underneath him. Your legs were open, loose around his hips in your drunken confidence, giving Zoro the perfect sight of a little wet patch in your underwear. His thumb pressed on it making you jump a little, he chuckled and teasingly swiped his thumb up your slit.

Looking back up, he saw you had already taken off the bra, tits sitting pretty from your propped upper body. Zoro used his weight to pin you to the bed, his mouth quick to find your own, the kiss was strong and sloppy and left you out of breath as he proceeded to leave a wet trail up your jaw and down your neck.

You took a sharp inhale through your nose when Zoro’s callused fingers grazed over a nipple. It was so uncharacteristic, you thought, how gentle he could be with your body. You were expecting it rough, fast, animalistic… regardless, his touches left you spinning.

Prayers answered, Zoro’s pinches became stronger, making you mewl at the attention he paid your breast. Bites littered your now sensitive chest and upper shoulders as his mouth attached to your aching bud. Soft breaths and sighs flowed from your abused lips, waist squirming in neglect.

You moaned when he sucked, beginning to bite at your flesh. Zoro wanted you screaming, begging, whining under his hands, only to prove that you can’t handle what he can do to you. And trust, the motherfucker is gonna get what he wants.

Realization settled in when his precise wet tongue rimms your nipple, “Fucking tease,” you hissed your words coming out as more of a moan than you had hoped for.

Zoro rolled his eyes at you, letting his gaze traverse your skin as he leaned his weight onto his knees. The clapping sound of his slightly cupped hand coming to smack your pussy forced a struggled moan through your whole body, jerking further up onto the bed.

“Needy slut.” he quipped back, following your hips as his thumb pulled the panties to the side. Zoro’s dick pulsed at the sight of fat lips connected with your glossy essence. His thumb broke the seal of your wetness and the poor man nearly came at the way you leaked all over his finger.

“You’re too wet for your own good,” he chuckled with a hint of genuine admiration, thumb swiping over your entrance, pressing down hard when he found your clit. “Nngh~!” you moaned out, eyes nearly rolling back at the sudden sensation. His other hand grabbing his sake to take a long drink. “You’re not going to be able to take what I can give you, sexy little thing.”

“Oh please” you rolled your eyes with a huff despite feeling yourself tighten up involuntarily “You’re always so fast to talk so grand of yourself.” you keened slightly when you moved your hips against his finger.

“And when’s the last time I didn’t prove it?” Zoro smirked, an evil glint in his eye. The man didn’t give you a chance to even consider an answer before his face was on your pussy. Zoro’s thick arms wrapped around the fat of your ass and thighs, his weight stretching you open, barred out for his viewing pleasure, brown folds glistening in his face like a pretty glazed dessert. He stuffed his nose into your clit, hungrily taking in your scent.

‘Maybe’ you thought, ‘I am in over my head.’ Your face flushed a purple-ish hue, attempts to close your legs proving fruitless versus Zoro's brutish strength. His tongue hurriedly slid into your entrance, the tip just barely filling your hole. He wiggled around, collecting your juices, pushing them to smear over your clit.

A huffed breath left your lips as Zoro's show really began. His trained tongue was sturdy, unwavering in the way he ran tight circles around your bud. "O-ooh my god," your hands flew to grasp at his short, mossy hair in almost no time. The pressure of Zoro's tongue was unmatched, jaw well trained to endure hours of battle, inadvertently making him a pussy (& booty) munching god.

If there were two things Zoro loved, it was drinking and pussy, so being pussy-drunk, of all the ways to experience you, was right up his ally. His tongue was hot and wet, laid flat to engulf all of you before going back to poking and fucking into your sopping entrance. "Z-zoro!" you whimper-cried, no longer able to hold back, every technique he tested on your pussy building onto the last.

Your breathing was labored, you could feel random muscles tensing and straining from the intensity of Zoro's mouth on you. All of the people you slept with had to really put in work to make you cum, but this seemed to be second nature to Zoro, as distant pleasure began to knot in your abdomen.

He was better than your fucking vibrator.

Your pretty moans rang in his ears and he couldn't help but rut his length into the mattress beneath you two, groaning right back into your heat at the stimulation. Zoro popped his mouth off your cunt with harsh a suck to your clit, he wanted at least a glimpse of your face ‘If she sounds this beautiful she must look even better.’ was the general train of thought.

Zoro raised his head slightly, his black eyes narrowed from the angle as he caught sight of your flushed face, mouth parted with tousled hair, your chest rising and falling unevenly. And he was correct, you looked down right ethereal.

A whine bubbled in you at the loss but you were immediately shut up by his tongue back on your clit, rubbing and flicking shapelessly with a new vigor so overwhelming you could immediately feel your walls clenching. He then wiggled the tops of his ring and middle fingers into you, finger pads pushing up at the flesh of your heat.

The vibration of his own grunts were heavenly against your sensitivity, "Mmhmph! Zoro I-" The desperation in your voice caused him to fully thrust his thick fingers into your gaping pussy. The sensation had your back arching in his iron grip, shoulder blades digging into the springs of the mattress.

Your fingers laced together in his hair, pulling his rapid tongue even harder against you. "Z-Zoroo-o” a drawled out pornographic moan ripped from your throat, eyes nearly popping out of your skull. “O-oh, my, god.” your words were gutteral, cut with every gasping breath you could manage while Zoro bullied his fingers in and out of you.

“Look at you, such a dirty girl taking my fingers like that.” The man’s smile was devilish as he shifted up a little to watch your face scrunch in ecstasy. “Gonna cum on my fingers baby? You gonna make a mess of these sheets for me?” Zoro’s voice was low and gravely, the alcohol in his system causing him to speak every thought.

And the alcohol in your system had you submitting to his every word, you just couldn't find the willpower to go against him when he was treating your pussy so painfully good. He was so dominating, igniting every nerve along your skin, you nodded hurriedly at his question, mouth agape and eyebrows furrowed as he suffocated you with his presence. “Uh-uh” Zoro shook his head, doubling down his efforts and pistoning his digits into you, rocking the bed with his movements. "Gonna have to use your words mama,"

You clenched around him hard, feeling pleasure pool in your knotting abdomen. You were a sucker for pet names and he was unknowingly feeding right into it. "Zoro!" you cried out in his grip, your body running from the intensity, "Zoro Zoro I'm gonna-!"

He brought his tongue back to lick sloppy lines all over your clit and the area surrounding, he held you in place with one arm, your body in too much ecstasy to fight back. Zoro's ears were met with a ringing cry, "Zoro! I'm cumming!" your legs trembled in place around his neck, nails digging into his scalp. Zoro sucked lightly on your clit, drawing out your orgasm as you continued to cream all over his fingers and chin.

“Mm, you taste better than I thought." He crawls up to lay a chaste kiss on your bitten lips, eying your chest as you try to regulate your breathing. "That was so good," you admitted in a state of post-orgasmic delirium.

"Was?" Zoro questioned, his mouth closing in on your own, trailing you into another breathless, crushing kiss. You could just feel that sly-shit eating grin on face as again he locked your lower half in his meaty arms again with a speed you forgot he possessed. This time he pushed your legs up almost like a mating press. His thumbs were hooked into the backs of your thighs, fingertips on the bed, the force of his hands more than enough to render you more or less immobile once again.

Your hands grasped at the sides of his head, tugging it between your calves to press a heated kiss to his mouth. You moaned softly against his lips, tongues wet and hot against one another.

Your heart raced in its place, you couldn't do anything but stare, frozen in drunken anticipation as he glided back down your golden figure, hazy, sex driven eyes locked on your own with that billion bounty smile.

Both knees were pinned to your shoulders by his massive hands alone, broad arms stretched up to lock you in place. “You said you could take it, right?” Zoro mused, there wasn’t even time to contemplate his words before Zoro’s forefingers came to cling behind your waist. The man proceeded to lift your entire fucking body into the air. Immediately his hot mouth cupped the whole of your pussy, angling you such that the only way to balance was with your core on his face and your hands clutching at his hair.

Zoro’s tongue reached far deeper into your sensitive cunt than before and there was nothing you could do but try to accept the overwhelming pleasure he poured into you. A coarse moan ripped through your throat as his tongue began to move rapidly against the wet surface of your pussy. Your core clenched and burned with the effort it took to stay up straight. His nose nudged and bumped upwards against your clit sending an addictive pleasure throughout your figure.

“Zo- Zoro-!” your overstimulated cries were as desperate as he was relentless. The sight of his firm arms supporting your weight coupled with the feeling of Zoro’s menacingly strong tongue licking and stretching your poor little pussy out made it impossible to ignore the white pleasure that blinded your nerves with zero warning.

“OhMyGodZoro-! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!” Your climax hit you full force, and you whimpered beautifully into the air. You glanced down in your struggle to regain breath, eyes widening at the sight of Zoro’s face, neck and even shoulders soaked. There was a successful glimmer in his eye. “Squirter and a creamer” he grinned, the movements of his lips against your sensitivity made your face bloom with heat and your body twitch in his grasp. “Put me down” You huffed out breathlessly and rolling your eyes at his comment. The pressure of his structured face on your core was not aiding in the recovery from your second orgasm of the night.

“If you insist.”

You could feel his sinister intent as soon as he shuffled to lock his elbows under your knees, securing his large hands around your waist Zoro held your body against the surface of the bed. Your fingers digging into his forearms as he lifted your lower half into the air.

A hoarse moan of his name drew his attention to you, your hand ran down the length of his arm, fingertips brushing at his lips, still wet and shiny. It was your attempt at getting him slow down if only for a second. Zoro’s face drew a wide drunken smile as he folded you slightly to press a kiss to your wanting mouth. Emotions were all over the place what with your body singeing with pleasure and his need to make you feel good. His kiss absolutely melted you, body relaxing into him.

Zoro studied your messy, post-orgasm face with satisfaction, he held your sexy, arched body such that the tip and underside of his hot dick was running up and down your slit with the movement of his hips. You groaned, you could feel your pussy blooming to finally take him despite being licked raw minutes before.

He let a bit of spit fall onto your pulsing clit, adding to the feeling of your wetness against his cock.

“What’d ya say?”

Zoro’s voice had your lidded gaze pulling off his pretty dick to his face. “Hmm?” Your voice was tired and strained and the emptiness of your needy hole was wearing your patience thin. “What, do you, say?” he repeated himself slowly, your confusion chipping at your arousal. “Zoro-“ your attitude was quickly resurfacing, the swordsman could hear it in your voice.

“Fuck it,” he mumbled, interrupting your attempt at protesting by filling you completely with his dick. He wanted to keep you this cute and submissive, at least until the end of the night. “Oh fuck” there were stars in your eyes with the way Zoro stretched you out, a beautiful pressure emanating from your core. An unfiltered moan erupted from his chest and made you clench hard on him.

“The answer was please~” His hips drew back before pushing into your plush walls with a seductive roll of his waist line. Zoro could admit he was showing off a little, but the way you openly ogled his figure between your legs and moaned with unabashed lust at the sight made him all the more eager to undo you on his dick.

A deep hum reverberated in his chest as he continued to offer long strokes to your quivering pussy. “Z-zoro~” desire dripped off your tongue and your legs stretched wider with an addictive burn. Zoro raised a brow, continuing his just too slow pace. “Little slut, acting like you want more like you weren’t just pushing my face away.” Your face ran a flushed shade of purple at his words, the way he treated you was dynamic and had your already inebriated mind spinning in the best way possible.

Zoro picked up his pace, his eyes catching yours, daring you to look away from him. Both of you knew you couldn’t, even with your eyes nearly rolling back from the way he was fucking you. Hips snapping, pussy squelching with the aftermath of his tongue, his dick was filling you up so perfectly. There was a burn in your stomach when Zoro’s hands squeezed tighter at your waist, your own scratching at what you could reach of his broad shoulders.

There was a stutter in your voice and your body jerked at his intensity. “Mmmh, Zoroo~ Y-you’re gonna make me cum againn” you drawl out to the man. Zoro’s lucid motions were unfazed.

“Then cum.”

The way his gaze burned solidified Zoro’s demand. Your eyes actually rolled back this time as your body was proving itself to be his to command. You came hard again, Zoro fucking you straight through your third orgasm. Your whimpers were a few octaves higher as he allowed your lower half to hit the mattress, pushing you down into a mating press. Dick still in you Zoro actually started to sped up.

“W-wait Zoro-“ you tried to plead with him, you could feel your body falling into a numb yet increasingly pleasurable tingle, it was too much. “Wait?” Zoro slowed down just a little, body curling over yours, nose pressing into your cheek as he tried to drowned himself in your scent, “for what?”. Your face reddened and he bit back a smile as he felt you growing flustered.

Zoro’s hips still sliding in and out of you, “I-“ he thrusted sharply watching your eyes threaten to cross at the sudden sensation.

“You…?” he teased, returning to a slow pace that he could feel was getting you impossibly wetter.

“Zoro! It’s too much!” you whined out in frustration, tears beading at your lash line. Your arms were now around his neck, clawing at the expanse of his upper back. “Aww, what happened baby?” he cooed, Zoro’s lips were at your ear as he picked up some speed,

“Can’t handle it?”

You couldn’t even remember having said those words to him earlier, but there was a victoriously cheeky smile on his rugged face when you shook your head fast. Tears rolled onto your plump cheeks, a strangled moan escaping your lips when you fully u understood that he was not finished with you yet.

“Zoro ple-ease!” the tone of your voice was desperate, for more or less you couldn’t tell.

“One more mama, j-just gimme one more.” his voice was lustful and slurred as he began to piston his dick right into your g-spot, balls slapping against your ass. You choked his name out as legibly as possible, your whines and moans were pitched and short of breath as you felt your eyes losing focus.

Zoro marveled at the sight of you, pretty curvy body smushed under his weight, there was spit dribbling from the corner of your mouth and your eyes crossed threatening to close. A slap to the side of you ass just barely had your attention back on Zoro as he rose to his knees after stealing the air from your lungs with a kiss.

You were so tight and warm around him Zoro knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. His thumb rubbed fast circles into your clit earning a high moan of his name. “Mm such a tight fucking pussy,” Zoro growled out, committing to memory the way you mewled and your body trembled.

He used the corner of his palm, right under his thumb, to brush away stray tears on your face. “You’re so pretty like this,” he gasped, hips stuttering at the way you gripped him from the praise.

“Z-zoro,” his name seemed to be the only thing coming out of your mouth and he was enjoying it to its fucking fullest.

“Fuck (Y/N)…” Your green haired wonder was breathless, mesmerized by the way sweat glistened over the hickies he left across your chest. “Fuck,” Zoro’s thumb moved faster, body leaning back in so to rest his forehead against yours, eyes closed. You grabbed the side of his jaw, pulling him down to kiss you, whimpering into his mouth Zoro felt your body quake harder.

“Go ahead, baby,” he managed to grunt out between powerful, erratic thrusts. With a final moan of his name against his lips you were squeezing almost too tight as you gushed and spasmed around his cock.. “Fuck!” Zoro leaned his weight on his elbows, his body relaxing over you as he spilled into your pretty cunt.

A light groan was pulled from your swollen lips when Zoro pulled himself from you, he watched, biting the inside of his lip, as a mix of you both leaked onto the curve of you ass and down to the bedsheets. It made him wanna fuck you again.

Your breath was shaky as you tried to regulate yourself. Zoro rolled, the skin of his back finding relief against the cool sheets beside you. You could hear him breath deeply through his nose, knowing his eyes were closed but he wasn’t sleeping.

A few moments of silence were followed by Zoro watching with one eye as you shuffled slowly on the bed, reaching over his head to grab a still-open bottle of liquor from the bed stand.

He licked at your titty you didn’t realize had been hung over his face, your body tensed for a second and you couldn’t really fight the smile that graced your features despite smacking his head lightly. You leaned on your side, facing Zoro with one arm propping your head up. He turned slightly to face you, a hand coming to trace shapes on your still trembling hips.

He grinned at the fact, watching as you drank a shot or two.

“I told ya you couldn’t handle it.”

———————

hehe, thx for reading :)

#zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #one piece #zoro smut #one piece headcanons #zoro headcanons #x female reader #one piece x female reader #black female reader #smut #first smut

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welikeclownsinthishouse · 11 months

Text

Entry number 23 for @ailesswhumptober

Day 23: nervous breakdown

The house was empty when he entered but then again; it always was. Usually, it didn't bother him, not too much anyway. It started being a bit creepy after he found out about the Demogorgon but you can get used to everything can't you?

This time however it did bother him, the emptiness and the therefore ever present silence that engulfed the house and him with it. He stayed in the doorway for a while, the front door open and letting just the smallest amount of street light into the otherwise dark house.

Steve just stayed there and stared at the shadows in his house, trying to ignore the anxiety that was starting to claw its way up his throat. He took a deep breath before he stepped further into the house, closing the door behind him before he leaned against it.

The complete silence turned more and more agonizing the longer he stood there and the darkness just seemed to amplify it but he couldn't get himself to turn on the lights. He wasn't sure why but he just didn't want to, he couldn't bring himself to move either.

So he continued to lean against the door while he felt the walls of his house closing in around him. He carded a hand through his hair when he did and took a deep breath to get himself to calm down but it didn't seem to work this time.

Instead, the world seemed to start spinning, and his heartbeat thundered in his chest while his body started to shake. Steve clenched his fists, the anxiety welling up inside him threatening to overflow and he really didn't want to deal with that now.

He started sliding down the door then, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps, and he could feel the sweat forming on his forehead. The shaking in his body didn't stop either on the contrary it just seemed to get worse with each passing second.

Steve's mind raced as he sat cross-legged on the floor, and a torrent of negative thoughts flooded his consciousness. Would they come back for him? He did see their faces and he did know more than he should, so it would only make sense wouldn't it? Would they come for his friends? For Dustin?

Tears welled up in Steve's eyes as he tried to stop himself from thinking more about this; he got out and he was fine, wasn't he? Other people weren't so lucky. He just got a beating, something he should be used to right now so why was he acting like this?

His body started convulsing with sobbs then and Steve couldn't manage to reign them in, couldn't keep track of his breathing. He just sat there crying into his hands and he could feel his tears mix with the dried blood under his nose.

When he was finally able to calm himself down he wiped away the tears, cringing when he irritated the black eye that had already swollen so much he could barely see, and stood up. His legs shook as he walked over to the couch in his living room and they continued shaking when he lay down.

He lay there for a while, just staring at the front door and thinking about his best course of action if someone were to break in. He would jump off the couch and book it out of the back door he decided as his eyes slipped shut and he drifted off to unconsciousness.

#ao3 fanfic #ailesswhumptober2023 #fanfiction #steve harrington #stranger things

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saiacross · 1 year

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Bonds Unveiled

Supernatural FanFic: 7,258: Words: Series: Reader-Insert

Chapter 10: Young Sam

This Work is part of an overarching story that can be read as a one-shot with little overlapping information from other chapters.

⬅ Chapter 9 Hallucinations💜 Chapter 11 Together Again ⚠️ Dean ➡ Master List

Chapter 10: Young Sam Our trio has caught onto a case that, even after it was dealt with, continues to tear a riff among the brothers and Y/N. Sam is affected by a spell that brings back painful memories for Dean that cause him to speak his true feelings to Y/N about how he sees her. But that won't stop her from being there for Sam, as long as he needs her. Hurt Dean.

Dean had his hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel as the Impala raced down the highway, the wind rushing through the open windows. Sam, sitting shotgun, was focused on his laptop, scanning through various reports and news articles. Y/N, in the backseat, watched the scenery pass by, her thoughts wandering.

As they crossed the state line into Iowa, Sam's eyes widened as he stumbled upon an intriguing article. He turned to face Dean and Y/N, his expression a mix of excitement and concern.

"Guys, so get this," Sam interrupted the quiet rumble of the engine, turning his head to face Dean and Y/N. "I think we're dealing with a witch here. The reports mention incidents happening around town; an herbal shop was robbed in the middle of the night but no money was taken, dead ravens are being found all over town picked clean of their feathers, a lady got into a fight with someone over Black Salt, and……. a flower shop was held at gunpoint for it vervain and moonflowers ."

Dean nodded, his focus shifting from the road to Sam. "A witch, huh? Well, we've tangled with those before. What's the deal with these ingredients, that’s definitely not your typical grocery list."

Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Some witches are so stuck up, their ingredients always have to be as fresh as possible, what's wrong with just hitting up the grocery store? It’s the same shit ." Her annoyance seeped into her voice, and she crossed her arms in frustration.

Dean chuckled at Y/N's comment, finding her straightforward approach amusing. "Yeah, those witches with their gourmet spells, right?" he joked.

Sam shot a smile at Y/N, trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, I get it. It can be annoying, but some spells require specific ingredients for their potency. We just need to figure out what this witch is up to and stop them before it's too late."

With curiosity and determination in her eyes, Y/N pulled out her phone and dialed Angelique's number. As the phone rang, Sam and Dean watched her with interest, curious to see what her plan was.

“What better way to figure out what a Witch is doing than to ask a Witch?” Y/N had said to Dean and Sam when she noticed them watching her. Angelique, being an experienced and knowledgeable witch, could possibly shed light on the mysterious ingredients and the purpose of the spell.

"Hello?" Angelique's voice came through the phone. Y/N wasted no time and launched into an explanation.

"Hey, Angelique! It's Y/N, you’re on speaker and the guys are here. We're in Seymour, Iowa, and there's some weird witch activity going on here. We suspect someone is collecting ingredients for a powerful spell or ritual."

Intrigued, Angelique listened carefully, "Go on."

Y/N proceeded to read off the list of ingredients they had gathered so far—mandrake root, vervain, raven feathers, black salt, and moonflower petals. Each word she uttered carried a sense of wonder and puzzlement, hoping Angelique might recognize the combination.

After a moment of silence, Angelique responded, her voice serious and contemplative, "Hmm, that's quite an interesting mix of ingredients. Mandrake root and vervain are often used in protection spells, while raven feathers symbolize transformation. Black salt is for warding off negative energies, and moonflower petals can enhance psychic abilities. It's not a common combination, and without further information, it's hard to pinpoint the exact spell."

As Angelique pondered further over the list of ingredients Y/N had provided, her expression shifted from curiosity to concern. She read off the initial purposes for each component—the protection spells, transformation, warding, and enhancement of psychic abilities. But then, as her keen witch's intuition kicked in, she noticed a dark undertone associated with the vervain.

Her mind raced, connecting the dots between the ingredients and the history of the area. There were whispers of witches who had once practiced dark arts and rituals that involved raising the dead. As this understanding settled in, Angelique's voice became more urgent as she continued her explanation to Y/N.

"Y/N, listen carefully. The combination of ingredients you mentioned, particularly the vervain, hints at something far darker than we initially thought. Considering the history of Seymour and the potential intentions behind the spell, I'm almost certain the witch is trying to raise someone from the dead."

Y/N's eyes widened with a mix of shock and concern. The gravity of the situation was sinking in, and she knew they had to act quickly. "Raising the dead?”

“Listen, Resurrection spells are incredibly powerful and can disturb the natural balance. The witch must have a black candle on their altar, a symbol of the void that connects the realms of life and death. If they succeed in this ritual, the consequences could be disastrous."

Y/N's focus was sharp as she listened intently to Angelique's warning about the black candle. The gravity of the situation settled in her mind as she processed the potential consequences of such a dark spell. With determination in her voice, Y/N asked the important question, "Alright, so the candle is probably at their altar at their house?"

Y/N turned her attention to Sam, knowing that his research skills were invaluable in situations like this. With a look of hopefulness in her eyes, she asked, "Sam, do any of the articles mention the person who has been causing trouble?"

Before Sam could respond verbally, his fingers were already dancing across his keyboard, searching for any relevant information. The atmosphere in the Impala was filled with a mix of anticipation and urgency as they awaited Sam's findings.

"Got something," he said, his voice filled with determination. “Rebecca Thomson was caught on camera fleeing the salt incident. She's lived there for years, but hardly anyone ever sees her in town. She keeps to herself and avoids contact with others."

“Has she lost anyone close to her recently?” Y/N asked Sam.

“Her husband passed about 3 months ago, he was buried in the town cemetery.” Sam would explain to the others.

“Sound’s like our witch!” Dean would nod as he spoke.

Y/N's heart sank as she realized the pain that the witch must have endured after losing her husband just three months ago. The grief could have been the catalyst for Agnes seeking to resurrect him through dark magic. Y/N would sigh heavily.

Sam glanced back at Y/N, reading her unspoken thoughts written on her face.

Sam nodded in agreement. "It's understandable, but we can't let her go down this dark path. It could have severe consequences for everyone."

Y/N took a deep breath, preparing herself mentally for what was to come. "So, the graveyard where her husband is buried... That's where we'll find her?"

Sam nodded. "It's likely. She might be visiting his grave so to be there when he raises."

Dean's sudden change in demeanor caught both Sam and Y/N off guard. Sam glanced out the windshield, taking note of the rapidly approaching storm. The air grew heavy with tension as lightning continued to illuminate the darkening sky.

"Alright then, Sam and I will head to the graveyard, Y/N head to her house and see if you can’t find this candle. We’ll put an end to this before it gets worse."

Sam watched the unnatural storm overhead as they pulled into town, concern etched on his face. "Y/N, be careful. We don't know what we're dealing with here. If things get too dangerous, don't hesitate to call for backup."

"I've got this, Sam. Just focus on stopping the witch at the graveyard. We'll regroup afterward." Y/N was also intrigued but the magically enhanced clouds overhead.

"Alright, let's move. Time is running out." Dean parked the car with a jolt. With a sense of urgency, they all exited the Impala, each heading toward their assigned tasks. Dean and Sam rushed toward the direction of the graveyard, leaving Y/N to tackle the mission at the witch's house.

As Y/N made her way towards the house, she could feel the energy in the air intensify. The wind howled, leaves rustled, and the scent of rain permeated the atmosphere. It was as if the elements themselves were stirred by the impending clash between light and darkness.

Approaching the witch's house, Y/N steeled herself, knowing that she had to act swiftly. She took a deep breath, mentally preparing for what she might encounter inside.

Entering the house, the air felt heavy, as if it held the remnants of the witch's dark magic. Y/N's heart raced, but she pushed forward, determined to locate the black candle and disrupt the witch's plans.

Room by room, Y/N searched diligently, her senses on high alert. Every creak of the floorboards and flicker of shadow intensified her focus. Finally, in a dimly lit room at the back of the house, she discovered the altar adorned with various items, including the ominous black candle.

Y/N approached the altar cautiously, mindful of the power it contained. She reached out, her hand trembling slightly, and carefully extinguished the flame. As the black candle's dark magic dissipated, Y/N felt a surge of relief and a renewed sense of purpose.

But just as she turned to leave, a chilling voice echoed through the room. "You shouldn't have interfered."

Y/N's heart raced as she spun around, only to find the witch standing in the doorway, her eyes filled with anger and determination. It was a showdown between light and dark, and Y/N knew she had to stand her ground.

"I won't let you raise the dead," Y/N said, her voice steady despite the fear that coursed through her veins. "There's always another way to find closure."

The witch's laughter filled the room, sending shivers down Y/N's spine. But she held her ground, ready to protect the innocent and ensure that the dark magic was thwarted.

As the storm raged outside, the battle of wills unfolded inside the witch's house. Y/N's determination, paired with her newfound understanding of the witch's grief, became her strength in the face of darkness.

Meanwhile, Dean and Sam faced their own witch in the graveyard. But with their skills, they fought valiantly, determined to put an end to the witch's dangerous intentions.

The battles raged on in separate confrontations, each group unaware of the other's encounter with the witches. Y/N stood her ground against the daughter, desperately attempting to reach her humanity.

"Please, you have to stop this," Y/N pleaded, her voice laced with urgency. "The spell won't bring him back. It will only bring more pain and darkness."

The daughter's eyes burned with a mixture of grief and anger as she raised her hands, channeling her dark powers. "You don't understand my pain! I won't let him go!"

Y/N's heart sank as she realized that reasoning with the daughter was futile. With a heavy heart and a determined spirit, she reluctantly took action, engaging in a fierce battle to defeat the young witch. The clash of magic and physical blows echoed through the house, each strike carrying the weight of the daughter's desperation and Y/N's determination to protect the innocent.

Meanwhile, Dean and Sam faced off against the formidable mother witch, their own fight testing their skills and resilience. They fought with relentless determination, countering the mother with their own arsenal of weapons. The air crackled with energy as the hunters and the witch clashed, the room vibrating with their struggle.

As Y/N's battle reached its climax, her final strike broke through the daughter's defenses, bringing an end to the young witch's life. In that instant, a surge of energy pulsed through the house, severing the bond between mother and daughter.

The dark storm that had engulfed the area suddenly dissipated, replaced by calm and tranquility. The oppressive atmosphere lifted, and the house returned to its normal state, free from the taint of dark magic.

However, the mother witch, sensing the loss of her daughter and the crumbling of her spell, took advantage of the chaos and managed to escape, vanishing into the night but not before one final spell.

Breathing heavily, Y/N took a moment to collect herself, her eyes filled with a mix of relief and sorrow. She had done what was necessary, but the weight of the consequences settled upon her shoulders.

Y/N took a moment to compose herself, her eyes lingering on the family photos adorning the walls. The reminders of happier times only emphasized the tragedy that had unfolded. Just as she was about to leave the room, her phone suddenly rang, its sound cutting through the silence.

Startled, Y/N quickly retrieved her phone from her pocket and glanced at the caller ID. Dean's name flashed on the screen, and she wasted no time in answering the call.

"Dean," Y/N greeted, her voice filled with a mix of relief and concern. "The witch was here. I believe she was the daughter."

Dean's voice came through the phone, filled with urgency. "Yeah, the mother got away. Listen, you know that shady motel we passed on the way in, meet me there. We've got a situation."

Y/N's heart raced, her worry intensifying at Dean's words. She knew that if Dean deemed it necessary something serious must have occurred.

"Understood," Y/N replied, her voice steady despite the underlying anxiety. "I'm on my way.”

The call ended, and Y/N wasted no time in rushing out of the house. Her mind raced with possibilities, her concern for the safety of Dean and Sam consuming her thoughts. She hurriedly made her way to the Impala, her footsteps echoing with a mix of determination and trepidation.

As she approached the iconic black car, her eyes scanned the area, searching for any signs of trouble. She couldn't help but worry about what awaited her, praying that the situation hadn't taken a turn for the worse. Just as she was about to call out their names, the door of the nearby motel swung open, revealing Dean standing at the entrance. He waved her over, gesturing for her to come inside.

Curiosity piqued, Y/N approached the motel room, her steps cautious yet eager. Dean closed the door behind her, creating a sense of privacy. Inside Y/N was greeted by a small boy, no older than seven years old. His innocent eyes sparkled with curiosity as he looked up at her.

"Hello," the boy greeted, his voice filled with warmth and friendliness.

Caught off guard by the unexpected encounter, Y/N stumbled over her words for a moment. She crouched down to the boy's level, a mix of surprise and curiosity etched on her face.

"Well, hello there," Y/N finally managed to respond, a gentle smile forming on her lips. "What's your name?"

The boy's smile grew wider as he proudly announced, "I'm Samuel, but my dad and brother call me Sammy."

Y/N's eyes widened in astonishment, her heart skipping a beat. The significance of the name and the boy's familiarity hit her like a wave. She could hardly believe what she was hearing.

"Sammy," Y/N repeated, her voice filled with a mix of disbelief and wonder. "What's your last name, Sammy?"

The boy's smile remained, and he proudly declared, "Winchester."

Y/N slowly straightened herself up, her mind swirling with a whirlwind of emotions. She turned to face Dean, her eyes filled with disbelief and confusion. The words she wanted to shout at him came out as a barely audible whisper.

"Dean!"

Dean, standing just behind Y/N, nodded his head in acknowledgment.

“I know.” his expression mirroring the weight of the situation.

Y/N struggled to find her voice, her mind racing with a multitude of questions.

“How?” She managed to utter a few fragmented words.

“I don’t know.” Dean sighed heavily, his frustration evident. He shook his head, his brows furrowed in uncertainty.

“Does he?” Y/N's voice was still a hushed whisper.

“No, he does not.” Dean's response was filled with resignation.

Suddenly, the small child, Sammy, chimed in with a curious question. "Are you Dean's girlfriend?"

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze shifting back and forth between the innocent face of the child and Dean's frustrated expression. She stumbled over her words, caught off guard by the unexpected question.

"What!?" Y/N exclaimed, her voice a mix of shock and confusion.

Dean, growing increasingly frustrated, grabbed Y/N's arm and pulled her towards the door. He glanced back at the child, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

"Hey, just wait here for a moment, okay? I need to talk to her in private," Dean instructed the young boy.

As Dean and Y/N stepped out of the motel room, Dean closed the door behind them, ensuring their conversation remained confidential.

"I can't believe this," Y/N finally managed to find her voice though still filled with a mixture of astonishment and disbelief.

Dean's voice dripped with anger as he looked directly at Y/N, his frustration palpable. "Look, I need you to just watch after Sam, alright?" he demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Something like this happened to me once, and I already got the ingredients from Angelique for the reversal."

Y/N felt a whirlwind of emotions swirling within her as she tried to process the rapid progression of events. Confusion etched across her face as she struggled to comprehend Dean's intentions. "But why don't we all go together? It would make performing the reversal spell quicker," she suggested.

Dean's eyes hardened, and he swiftly dismissed Y/N's idea. "No!" he snapped, his voice laced with frustration. "You and Sam need to head back to the bunker while I go get what we need. It's not up for discussion."

Y/N's laughter bubbled up nervously, discomfort creeping into her voice. "Dean, I can't… This… Sam and I, we..." She trailed off, unable to find the right words to express how uncomfortable the situation made her.

Before she could finish her thought, Dean interrupted her, his anger intensifying. "Yeah, I know what happened between you and Sam," he spat, his words told Y/N that he knew more than he should know.

Y/N's feelings quickly shifted from discomfort to confusion as she confronted Dean with her realization. "Wait, Is... Is that why you hate me so much?" Her voice quivered as she posed the question.

Dean rolled his eyes, his anger mounting as he struggled to find the right words. "I don't hate you, Y/N," he snapped, his voice tinged with frustration. "It's just... how I am, alright?"

Determined, Y/N stepped forward, her eyes locked with Dean's as she spoke with conviction. "No, Dean. No, this isn't just how you are," she asserted. "This is how you feel about me. Because this isn't how you are with Angelique, or Charlie, or Jody, or anyone else. You avoid eye contact, you hate being alone together, and you're always pushing me away."

Dean's frustration mingled with a pang of guilt as he struggled to respond. "You don't understand, Y/N," he muttered, his voice tinged with regret. "It's complicated."

Y/N's voice gained strength as she held her ground, refusing to back down. "No, it’s not. You hate me because I accepted Sam's offer for help, you just don’t want to admit it.” Y/N took a deep breath before practically growling at Dean. “I didn't just use him as a meal, I’m not a monster, Dean!"

Dean snapped in that instance, took hold of Y/N by the front of her shirt, and slammed her against the motel door that led to their room.

“YOU don't get to tell me what you are after you fed off my brother's SOUL!” Dean yelled in Y/N’s face. Both Dean and Y/N stared directly into each other's eyes searching for some kind of answer to an unknown question. After several uninterrupted moments of silence, Dean's breathing began to calm.

Dean's jaw remained clenched, his inner turmoil evident as he fought to control his emotions. Slowly he loosened his grip on Y/N knowing he needed to tread carefully, especially for Sam's sake. After a long, tense pause, Dean finally spoke his gaze on the ground now.

"I can't do this right now, alright? I can't have... HIM around me right now." Dean’s voice strained.

Y/N's eyes widened with confusion, searching Dean's face for answers. Her voice trembled slightly as she asked, "What do you mean?"

Dean took a deep breath, his words forced through gritted teeth as he made an effort to convey the depth of his feelings.

"Right now, Sam is about 7 years old," he explained. "He doesn't know ANYTHING about what we do or the world we actually live in. He recognizes me as his brother, but still thinks Dad is in town somewhere, selling things for work."

The weight of Dean's revelation hit Y/N like a heavy blow, her heart sinking lower than she thought possible. The magnitude of the situation began to sink in, and Y/N's voice trembled with a mixture of sadness and disbelief, she leaned his head back against the door as she asked, "So... you mean that... that Sam is still 100% pure?"

Dean nodded solemnly, his eyes filled with a mixture of protectiveness and sorrow. It was a heavy burden to bear, knowing the harsh realities of their lives while Sam remained innocent and unaware.

"Yeah," he confirmed quietly, his voice tinged with sadness. "Sam, right now, is untouched by the craps we’ve been through."

The realization hung heavily in the air, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Y/N felt a surge of both empathy and sadness, understanding the tremendous weight that Dean carried as he tried to shield Sam from their harsh reality.

“Dean, what if… what if we don’t reverse the spell? Then Sam can grow up normal right?” Y/N's voice trembled with uncertainty as she voiced her question, her eyes avoiding direct contact with Dean's gaze. But Y/N knew that he had already considered the possibilities and weighed the options. The silence hung heavy between them, as both of them understood the unspoken answer.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N gathered her resolve. "Alright, Dean. It's about 6 or 7 hours until Kansas from here. I'll make arrangements to get us on the next bus and meet you at the Bunker. Just... don't take too long, okay? And, keep in touch."

Dean took a deep breath, trying to compose himself after the intense confrontation with Y/N. He ran a hand through his hair, a mix of frustration and concern etched on his face as he glanced down at the list of items in his hand.

As Y/N slowly picked herself up from the impact against the door, a small voice broke the tension in the room. The door to their motel room creaked open, revealing the young child version of Sam standing in the doorway, innocence radiating from his eyes.

The child, unaware of the previous altercation, innocently asked, "Are you guys done fighting?" His voice was filled with genuine curiosity and a desire for peace.

Dean's gaze softened as he approached the young Sam, crouching down to be at eye level with him. He placed a hand on the child's shoulder, a mix of affection and protectiveness evident in his touch.

Dean replied with a gentle smile, "Yeah, sorry about that, Sammy. But hey, Y/N here is going to take you home while I go... wrangle in Dad, alright? You can trust her, so do as she says, okay?"

Sam's eyes widened with curiosity as he looked up at Y/N, he moved closer to Dean. "But I want to stay with you, Dean." Sam protested softly, his childlike innocence longing for the comfort and familiarity of his older brother.

Dean's expression softened further, a mixture of love and sadness in his eyes. He spoke with a tender reassurance, "I know ya do Sammy. But right now, it's important that you go with Y/N. She'll keep you safe, just like I would. We'll be together again soon, I promise."

Sam hesitated for a moment, processing Dean's words. With a small nod, he reluctantly took a step towards Y/N, offering her a smile just like when he first met her moments ago.

Dean stood up, watching the interaction between Y/N and young Sam, a mix of emotions playing across his face. He knew the weight of the decision he had made, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of both relief and worry for what lay ahead.

With a final reassuring smile, Dean said, "Take care of him, Y/N. I'll see you both soon." As he headed to the Impala and drove off, watching the two in the rearview.

Y/N and young Sam managed to make it to the local bus station just in time to catch the last ride for the night. As they settled into their seats, the bus engine roared to life, and the vehicle began to move, taking them on their journey.

Young Sam, full of energy and curiosity, looked out the window as he was taking in the changing scenery as they passed by. His eyes widened with wonder, and he couldn't help but ask Y/N a question that had been on his mind.

"Y/N, are you sure you aren't dating my brother?"

Y/N chuckled at the unexpected question, finding the innocence and honesty of young Sam endearing. She turned to face him with a soft smile and replied.

"Oh, I'm very sure, Sammy. Actually, I'm pretty sure your brother hates me." Y/N couldn't help but find humor in the situation, her smile growing wider at the absurdity of it all.

Young Sam looked puzzled for a moment, trying to process Y/N's response.

"Why would Dean hate you?" he asked with genuine confusion, not understanding the complexities of the situation.

Y/N sat next to young Sammy, her heart warming at his innocent curiosity. She did her best to answer his questions honestly while treading carefully with her words.

"Well, Sammy, I did something a while back that your brother doesn't agree with, and it makes him mad," she explained with a knowing smile.

"Yeah, that sounds like Dean," young Sammy chuckled in response.

Curiosity burning in his eyes, young Sammy continued to inquire.

"How long have you known my brother?"

Y/N paused for a moment, considering her response before replying, "I think it's been about five or six months, give or take a little.”

“How did you two meet?”

“At work.” Y/N was beginning to wonder how long this would last. but before he could ask another, Y/N playfully beat him to the punch.

"What's with the twenty-question game here, huh?" she teased with a playful grin. "I'm sure Dean will tell you everything you want to know when he gets back."

Sammy let out an exasperated groan, his frustration evident.

"Dean doesn't tell me anything," he confessed with a hint of annoyance. "They treat me like a child."

Y/N's expression softened as she saw the genuine disappointment in young Sammy's eyes. She placed a comforting hand on top of his head, ruffling his hair.

"I'm sure Dean doesn't mean to keep things from you, Sammy. Sometimes, big brothers can be a bit overprotective, but it's only because they care about you so much."

Sammy looked up at her, his eyes seeking reassurance.

"Really?" he asked with a touch of hope.

"Absolutely," Y/N replied with a warm smile. "Your brother loves you more than anything in the world, and sometimes, he just wants to keep you safe and shield you from some of the harsher things out there."

Sammy seemed to ponder her words for a moment, and then he nodded, accepting her explanation.

"I guess that makes sense," he said, a small smile forming on his face. Y/N pulled the small boy under her arm and against her side while rubbing his arm.

As the bus journey continued, Y/N and young Sammy continued to chat.

The journey home had been long and exhausting, taking Y/N and young Sam a total of 6 hours to reach the town and an additional hour to finally arrive at the bunker. The sun had set, and darkness enveloped the surroundings. Y/N stepped out of the pickup truck they had hired for the final stretch of their journey. She paid the driver and thanked him again, ensuring that he understood she wanted to be left at this spot. Y/N gently pulled a sleeping young Sam out of the vehicle as well and watched the truck drive off.

Carrying the sleepy young boy in her arms, Y/N made her way down the stairs leading to the bunker's entrance hall. As they reached the bottom, young Sam stirred and groaned sleepily. Y/N gently set him down on the couch in the living area of the bunker.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. "I can make some food real quick."

Young Sam rubbed his eyes and nodded drowsily.

"Yeah, I'm kinda hungry," he mumbled.

"Alright, just give me a few minutes, and I'll whip up something for you," she reassured him with a warm smile and patted his head. Y/N headed towards the kitchen area of the bunker, the dim lights casting a comforting glow.

As she prepared a simple meal, Y/N's mind couldn't help but wander back to her conversation with Dean. She knew he was dealing with his own inner turmoil and struggling with the situation at hand. Y/N understood that Dean's anger and protectiveness were driven by his love for his brother, but she also worried about what this meant for her..

Deep in thought, Y/N focused on cooking spaghetti with sausage meat sauce for young Sam. The aroma of food filled the bunker as she finished preparing the meal. Placing a plate in front of young Sam, Y/N smiled at him.

"Here you go, something warm to fill your belly," she said gently.

Young Sam looked up at her, a hint of a smile forming on his lips.

"Thanks, Y/N," he said, the trust in his eyes evident.

Y/N ruffled his hair affectionately.

"You're welcome, Sammy. Now eat up," she encouraged him.

As young Sam enjoyed his meal, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility as they sat at the table talking, laughing, and eating together. Sam would even comment on how Y/N’s cooking was better than his brothers, a secret they promised to keep between each other.

The heavy metal door of the bunker swung open, and the sound reverberated through the halls. Dean's voice echoed as he called out to Y/N and Sam while descending the stairs.

"Hey, I'm back," he announced, his tone serious. Dean entered the kitchen area. “Where is Sam?”

Y/N turned her attention away from the dishes she was washing and looked at Dean with a hint of annoyance.

"Hi, welcome home, dear. How was your day?" she replied sarcastically.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What?" he asked, not fully understanding Y/N's response.

With a tired sigh, Y/N explained, "I just put Sam to bed. He's passed out. Did you find everything you needed?"

Dean's expression softened as he realized what she meant.

"Yeah, it took longer than I thought, but I finally got it all," he replied.

Y/N nodded and said, "Good. Well, let me know if you need any help. Otherwise, I left a plate out for you." She motioned to the table where a plate of spaghetti covered with cling wrap sat, waiting for Dean.

Dean paused for a moment feeling conflicted "Right, um.. thanks. I'm.. I’m going to go get this prepped and give it to Sam while he sleeps. Hopefully, this whole thing will just seem like a bad dream when he wakes up," Dean said, determination in his voice.

As Y/N stood in the kitchen, her mind was flooded with conflicting emotions. Watching Dean walk off to take care of young Sam, she couldn't help but feel a sense of heartache at the thought of Sam having to return to a world filled with darkness and danger. His innocent eyes turning dark once more weighed heavily on her heart.

At the same time, a part of Y/N couldn't deny the feeling of normalcy she experienced while spending time with the young boy. The laughter, the curiosity, the innocence—it was a refreshing break from the constant battles they faced as hunters. For a moment, she allowed herself to smile, cherishing the simplicity of that evening.

But amidst her mixed emotions, Y/N felt a growing sense of uncertainty and fear. She knew that with the reversal of the spell, things would change between her and the Winchester brothers. The truths they had buried, the unspoken feelings, the unresolved conflicts—they would all resurface, and the road ahead seemed daunting.

Y/N's smile faded as she contemplated the challenges ahead. It wasn't that she didn't want Sam to regain his true identity as the caring man she knew, but she feared what it would mean for their already complicated relationship. The thought of facing hurt, anger, and the potential for more fights weighed heavily on her mind.

At that moment, the idea of leaving crossed her mind. It felt like an escape, a way to avoid the pain and uncertainty that lay ahead.

The next morning, as the sun began to rise, Dean slowly woke from his slumber and sluggishly made his way into the kitchen. As he stood in the doorway, he was met with a surprising sight. The table before him was filled with a feast of delicious food—eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, hash browns, fruit, and a fresh pot of coffee. It was a spread that would have put a smile on anyone's face.

Dean's eyes scanned the kitchen, half-expecting to see his brother Sam cooking up a storm. However, he was met with the sight of Y/N instead. She stood near the stove, working on placing a few more pancakes on the table. Dean walked over to the table, still feeling a bit groggy, and couldn't help but ask, "What's all this?"

Y/N turned towards him, a hint of forced cheerfulness in her voice.

"Well, I didn't know if we would have young Sam or adult Sam this morning, so I figured what the hell—we will either celebrate or eat our stress away." She half-heartedly joked, attempting to force a laugh, but it was clear that there was more going on beneath the surface.

Dean studied her for a moment, not easily fooled by her act. He could sense that something was off.

"You never went to bed last night, did you?"

Y/N paused for a moment, her gaze lingering on the stove as she turned it off. She finally turned to face Dean, the facade of strength slipping away, and quietly admitted, "No." Her eyes reflected the exhaustion she felt, both physically and emotionally.

Silence lingered in the kitchen until Sam's voice suddenly broke the stillness.

"Morning," he said quietly, stepping further into the room. Dean turned to look at his brother, a mix of relief evident in his expression. Without hesitation, Dean walked over to Sam and pulled him into a tight hug, patting him a few times on the back. Sam returned the hug, but he didn't say anything, his emotions still a whirlwind after his recent ordeal.

Y/N watched the brothers reunite, a bittersweet feeling settling within her. She was glad that Sam was back to his normal self, but the weight of the past night's events still bore down on her. As she turned away, about to leave the room.

“Y/N, wait.” Sam's voice called to her.

She turned around just in time to find herself enveloped in Sam's arms, his embrace pulling her close against his chest. The warmth of his hug was comforting, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling within her. With a deep breath, Sam said, "Thank you.”

“Sam, I didn’t….” Y/N began to explain it was Dean who did all the work for the reversal spell.

“I remember everything.” Sam cut her off. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at his words. She hadn't expected him to remember, and her heart skipped a beat. It was a lot to process, and she found herself momentarily at a loss for words. Sam continued to hold her, his gratitude evident in his embrace.

Finally finding her voice, Y/N whispered, "You remember... everything?"

Sam nodded, his eyes meeting hers with newfound clarity. "Yeah," he confirmed, a hint of wonder in his tone as he pulled away from her.

Dean, who had been quietly observing the exchange, approached them both. "That's good, Sammy," he said, smiling warmly at his brother trying to play off the hurt he felt watching his brother thank Y/N. "We were worried about you."

Dean noticed the hurt in Sam's eyes, and his confusion grew. He knew his brother was still processing the rush of memories that had returned, but he didn't expect this reaction.

"What, Sam?" Dean asked, genuinely concerned.

Sam hesitated, trying to gather his thoughts and find the right words to express himself. His emotions were evident on his face, and his jaw tightened, his nose flared. Finally, Sam managed to say, "Dean, can I see you in the other room for a moment? Now?"

Dean's brows furrowed further, but he nodded, understanding the need for privacy. He glanced at Y/N, who had been quietly observing the scene. With a concerned look, Dean followed Sam to a more secluded area of the bunker.

Once they were alone, Dean closed the door behind them and turned to face his brother.

"Alright, Sam, what's going on?" he asked, giving his brother his full attention.

The air in the bunker felt tense as Sam confronted Dean about his actions with Y/N. Sam's eyes were filled with disappointment and hurt as he recounted what he had witnessed through the motel window.

"Dean, I saw you and Y/N through the window at the motel," Sam began, his voice serious. "I heard what you said to her."

But Sam wasn't willing to let him off the hook so easily.

"You pinned her to the wall, Dean!" Sam exclaimed, his voice rising with frustration.

Dean's shoulders slumped as he realized there was no defense for what he had done. He knew he had crossed a line, but in that moment of anger, he couldn't control himself.

"I appreciate you getting the spell for me, I really do, man," Sam began, his voice softening. "But this has to stop. Even after everything you did and said, she STILL took care of me when you asked her to…. More than you know."

Dean's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" he asked, genuinely curious about what his brother was trying to say.

Sam took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to express himself.

"It was like... it felt like... what I imagine having mom around would have been like," he finally said, his voice tinged with emotion.

“Dude…” Dean’s face twisted as he became grossed out by the thought.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean’s reaction.

“She was warm, loving, caring. She talked to me like I was an actual person not just some kid, let me lean against her to sleep, cooked dinner for me. A real dinner Dean. We laughed and she even made sure I got to bed. All the things that I didn't get to experience with Mom.”

Dean still shook his head, trying to not let the weird thoughts in. “Dude come on you've slept with her."

“Dean you are missing the point! Yes, we slept in the same bed, but nothing happened. We didn't... You know, not really." Sam sighed again.

“The point is that you need to get over yourself because whether you believe it or not we are better with her around and you are going to be the reason she leaves.” Sam paused. “And I don’t know if I can forgive you for that.”

Silence fell among the two brothers just before Sam turned to leave Dean with that thought.

Sam sighed as he walked into the kitchen, his mind still preoccupied with the conversation he just had with his brother. He had left Dean in the other room to give them both some space to process everything that had happened. As he looked around the kitchen, he couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness.

"Y/N?" Sam called out, half-hoping she would magically appear, but there was no response. His eyes then caught a piece of paper on the table, and he picked it up with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. Sam's heart sank as he read Y/N's note.

"No, no, no," Sam muttered to himself, crumpling the note in his hands with frustration. He had grown attached to Y/N during their time together, and the thought of her leaving hurt more than he anticipated. Sam sank into one of the kitchen chairs, his head in his hands, trying to process the sudden turn of events. A wave of sadness washed over him.

Dean emerged from the other room to find Sam sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. Concern etched on his face, he approached his brother.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Dean asked, worried.

Sam didn’t look up, frustration and disappointment clear in his eyes. He held out the crumpled note to Dean.

"She's gone, Dean. Y/N left," he said, his voice tinged with sadness.

Dean unfolded the note and read its contents.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I can't stay and be the reason for your fights. I'll always care about you and Sam, but it's just too much. Take care." Dean's jaw tightened as he read the words.

He looked back at Sam, feeling a mixture of emotions. "Dammit," he muttered. "I'll go find her," he said firmly, wanting to make things right.

Dean headed up the stairs, determined to find Y/N and talk things through with her. As he reached the bunker's main door, he threw it open without hesitation and charged ahead.

Meanwhile, Sam remained at the table, his mind filled with worry and uncertainty. He stared at the feast Y/N had prepared for them, the food now feeling bittersweet in light of her sudden departure. He couldn't help but replay the moments they had spent together in his mind, the warmth and care Y/N had shown him. It was clear that she had touched his heart in a way he hadn't expected.

Sam found himself lost in thought, unsure of what the future held. All he could do was hope that they would find a way to mend things with Y/N and that she would be willing to give them another chance.

End Chapter

#supernatural #fanfic #supernatural fanfic #Dean x OFC x Sam #dean winchester #Fluff #Sam Winchester #Hurt/Comfort #Reader-Insert #Illness #Self-Insert #Angst #Kitsune #injuries #Dean x Reader X Sam #Emotional Hurt/Comfort #Trauma #Young Sam Winchester #Hurt Dean Winchester

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his-sun-his-moon · 2 years

Text

BAITED. (Scott Lang Drabble)

(TW/CHOKING & DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE) BAITED

Scott felt the anger boiling in his chest. He was like a kettle that had been put on to boil. He was being baited. He was constantly being lured to self-destruct. The problem was that Scott never listened to the little voice that sat in the back of his head. And typically, he could take it. Usually, he would say ‘fuck off’ and disconnect.

But those words hit a trigger, and Scott was seeing red.

He felt his heartbeat within his chest. The drumming made blood rush to his ears. His vision funneled. He had one thought on his mind, which always led to self-destruction. The two people who brought him off the ledge were busy, and although Strange did a pretty decent job of it, he was too far gone. Scott left his phone sitting on his counter. He didn’t want to be found that night. Scott left so quickly that he didn’t bother to throw on a jacket. The anger sitting in his throat was enough to warm every nerve-ending. He was utterly numb to every other feeling besides rage. Scott’s chest heaved with heavy breaths. His head was spinning. He only had one thought on his mind.

The Cigar Room.

Scott let his body do the thinking for him. He was acting on impulse. Though this time, he went alone.

He was being dragged back into hell.

Scott rapped his knuckles quickly against the graffitied door, the code second nature at this point. Hoping the faster he knocked, the quicker he’d be able to blow off steam. The door opening was where his memory got foggy. His memory flashed in and out.

He remembers asking to be put in.

He remembers wrapping up his knuckles.

He remembers winning three fights.

Though that was the last thing he remembers. The mix of cheers and hollers kept him in it. Kept him blacked out with rage. That was until one person’s words broke through the black.

‘LANG IS GOING TO KILL ‘EM!’

When he came to for the final time, he had his hands wrapped around a man’s throat, pushing down on his windpipe so hard the white tint of his knuckles peeked through the dripping blood. His entire body shaking. And even though his mind was screaming at Scott to retreat, his body wouldn’t let him. The man was clawing at Scott’s hands, desperately trying to breathe. His face was severely bloodied and red from lack of oxygen.

‘SOMEONE GET LANG OFF OF ‘EM!’

This was beyond a tap-out. And Scott knew that. The crowd knew that. Yet he couldn’t stop himself. The fight moderators had to step in. Scott felt his shoulders being yanked at. Clammy large hands grabbed at his bruised and bloodied body, trying desperately to pull him out of his blind rage. But Scott was being dragged back into hell.

The fight moderators broke the connection before the man suffered any lasting damage to his windpipe. Scott slipped through their grasp and continued using all his force to punch the guy. Over and over and over. Scott couldn’t stop. Thinking back, Scott was sure he'd broken the man’s nose. But Scott didn’t care because he didn’t see the man. He didn’t even see a victory.

He saw himself.

And he wanted himself dead.

When there was a long enough break, the hands grabbed at any part of Scott. Yanking him backward and to his feet, effectively pulling him off the man who was now unmoving on the ground. Scott tried desperately to get back to what he was doing. His end game was to silence the little voice in the back of his head.

“Let me kill him...” Scott repeated as he was pulled back. That was until the words exploded from his chest. “LET ME KILL HIM!” Scott’s scream silenced the crowd.

The silence was what knocked him back to reality. Pulled him out of hell. He stopped fighting. When the moderators figured he was calm enough, they let him go. Scott scanned the crowd, whispers stinging his ears. His senses finally flooded back.

The metallic taste of blood was enough to make him sick. His body ached like he had been hit with a sack of bricks. His head was pounding. His heart was racing faster than it ever had before. Scott felt embarrassed. Scott spits the blood that settled in his mouth to the side before doing a final once-over on the crowd.

He left before he could collect his winnings.

Scott had been baited.

#Scott Lang #oneshot #drabble #scott lang #ant man #marvel #MCU #Angst #TW/choking #marvel cinematic universe #heavy angst #roleplay #mcu roleplay #stephen strange

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certifiedskywalker · 3 years

Text

Neurogenesis - Charles Xavier

It was never meant to happen. He thought it was impossible and you were both far too busy leading overly complicated lives. Where was the time?! Between the school and saving the world, where did a little family fit in? Your little family.

WARNINGS: mild cursing, scientific/clinical language, and pregnancy

Something was changed in you. Though, arguably, it would be easier to determine what remained the same after the beach in Cuba. What once were steadfast facets of Charles’ life were twisted beyond recognition like a piece of metal warped by Erik’s hand or the sudden divergence of a bullet’s path. At the thought, Charles felt his back ache. The pain pulled his attention from your figure and towards his still legs.

“And it’s finished!”

Hank, a blur of blue fur, rose up from behind one of the lab tables. Charles raised a brow at the scientist before he flicked his gaze over to you. You eyed whatever Hank had been working on while hidden behind the table before you met Charles’ gaze. His own mouth quirked upwards instinctually as you looked at him. Charles could never not smile when you looked at him like that: eyes full of love and the softest hints of a grin on your lips.

“Here you are,” Hank said as he rolled a shining, new wheelchair out from behind the table. “I should have thought about a joystick control before. Just been a bit...out of it.”

“It’s alright,” Charles replied, waving Hank’s worry away with a hand. “We’ve all been adjusting to this new normal.”

Nothing feels normal anymore. Your voice rang through Charles’ head like a sweet song despite the bitter truth of your words.

He tilted his head towards you and met your eyes with a knowing look. It will soon, darling, I promise.

Always the optimist, you telepathically replied before you returned to the files spread out on the table before you. Charles watched you carefully, still trying to pinpoint what exactly was different. Your thoughts and voice were clear but something was...newer. Sharper.

Hank sighed, pulling Charles’ attention back to him. His thick, blue arms were held out towards him, waiting to move Charles from chair to chair. “Are you ready?”

Charles swallowed hard but nodded up at his beastial friend. “I don’t think I’ll quite ever get used to being carried around.”

“Just need to adjust to the new normal, Professor,” Hank echoed with a wry, lopsided smile. Against his newly blue skin, his teeth, especially the longer canines, looked more yellowed. But the awkward joy that Hank exuded with his signature half-smile remained a constant despite his altered appearance.

“Yes,” Charles agreed as Hank scooped him up from his old wheelchair.

As he was lifted, Charles caught your eyes again. You held the same love in your eyes he saw moments before but something danced along the edges. It wasn’t pity at the sight of him or his more-less limp body in Hank’s arms. No, Charles had told you in hospital that he did not want you to weep for the loss of his legs. The strain his new condition added to your relationship would be enough to bear.

Was it worry perhaps? With your ability to block him from reading your mind, you always left him with so many questions. He joked about how, while you could speak to each other telepathically, communicating each other’s thoughts remained just as difficult as it was for average couples. Couples without powerful mutations, that was.

That did not stop Charles from trying to read you though. In fact, he enjoyed the mystery. Even as Hank placed him in his new chair and you watched with that strange, mixed expression, Charles felt a twinge of wonder. He could study you, love you, forever if the world allowed him to. He so wish that it would.

“How does it feel?” Hank asked once he stepped back to admire his work. Charles looked from you to Hank to the new chair’s joystick. Tentatively, he wrapped his fingers around the knob and pushed it forward. With a small heave, the chair moved in the direction Charles pointed it in: right towards where you stood.

You laughed as Charles rode quickly over to you. He stopped immediately in front of you and looked up with an expectant glint in his blue eyes. Your smile widened at the sight and you reached a hand to his face. When your palm pressed against his cheek, Charles turned his head to lean into your touch. His eyes closed to savor the feeling of your skin on his.

“Looks like it works great, Hank,” you mused before leaning closer to Charles. “And you look very handsome, dapper even.”

“Dapper? I was expecting a very different descriptor,” Charles jested as he opened his eyes. He grinned when he saw your eyes widen slightly and your hand moved to trail through his hair. For a moment, Charles was so immersed in you that he did not feel the mystifying newness that seemed to glow about you.

It was only you, and then, as Charles drank in your form, it suddenly wasn’t.

“You can’t say that in your heads?”

“Where’s the fun in that, Hank? We don’t get to see your face of disgust,” you teased, looking up at the scientist.

Charles would have gladly joined in but he could not ignore the small, bright sparks that stemmed from new neurons. Each one burned in his brain but not with thoughts he could read. There were only hints of tactile feelings and very base sounds that seemed to echo in some pitch black void. Despite the darkness, Charles was not afraid. It was not a fearful dark, but warm, almost comforting in some strange way.

“Funny. Well, I have to run this upstairs to Alex,” Hank sighed, holding up a energy blast channeling disc. “Don’t break anything in my lab.”

“It’s the school’s lab,” you countered.

“Y/N.” Charles reached his hands up to your hips, trying to grab your attention.

“It’s basically Charles’ lab,” you continued as Hank walked away.

Charles shook his head and rested his hands on your sides. Beneath his fingers and your clothes, he could feel the warmth of your flesh that mirrored the sparks of newness he felt in his mind. Before you turned your head to look at him, your hands moved to rest on top of Charles’. When you finally focused on him, Charles felt his stomach lurch.

“Y/N…”

“What is it?”

Then Charles saw it in your furrowed brows, feeble frown, and, mostly, in your eyes: nothing. There was no recognition or masked emotion. After a few seconds of silence, your expression grew grim, more worried. Your hands held his tighter and squeezed.

“Charles?”

“You don’t know,” Charles breathed. His eyes fell from yours to your joined hands, your sides, then to your abdomen. In his mind, little flickers of light like firecrackers sparkled in the warm void that surrounded him. “I can’t believe this.”

“Charles,” you whined, “you’re scaring me. What is it? Are you alright?”

“Am I...I’m fine, Y/N, are you,” he met your gaze, “you’re pregnant.”

Your worry melted away as a laughed rumbled up from your stomach and out of your mouth. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I can see inside the embryo’s forming neurons. I can feel the neurogenesis occurring in utero, the very forming of the brain.”

“Wh...it wasn’t, it isn’t possible. Our mutations, they aren’t compatible,” you stepped back and dropped Charles’ hands. “This is impossible, right?”

You met Charles’ eyes and, at his silence, all he could see now was the panic. He did not need to read your mind to know how fast your overwhelming thoughts were racing through your head. Carefully, he reached out to again, desperate to calm you. You did not move to meet him in the middle. Instead, you braced yourself against the lab table behind you.

“Hey, hey, breathe, darling,” he cooed. “It will be alright.”

“Alright?! Charles, you can’t be serious! We can adjust to a new normal, to a life without Raven and Erik and your legs, but a baby?!” You lifted your hands to hold your face and, for the first time in his life, Charles felt utterly powerless.

His lips fell into a frown and stinging tears began to gather behind his eyes as he took in the sight of you. Gently, he pressed the joystick of his chair forward to get closer to you. When he was close enough, Charles reached a hand up and wrapped his fingers around your forearm. With all the tenderness he had, he pulled your arm away which peeled your hand from your face. Tears rolled down your cheeks and Charles wanted nothing more to reach inside your mind to steal them away; or fully share in them.

He wasn’t sure which would help more. All he wanted to do was help, but he did not know what to do or what to say. So, he did the first thing he thought of and pulled you towards him. Wordlessly, Charles guided you into his lap so you could sit and so he could hold you.

You melted into him so naturally. Your head fell to his shoulder and his arms wrapped around your waist instinctively. Charles pressed his face into the crown of your head, savored the feeling of your hair tickling the skin of his face. It was a comforting contrast to the wetness of your tears that soaked through his shirt to the skin of his chest. He closed his eyes and just held you.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

You lifted your head from Charles’ shoulder and let your red-rimmed eyes meet his gaze. I love you too, I love you. I’m just-

“You don’t have to explain,” Charles interjected aloud, “and I’ll support whatever you decide to do. I’ll be here for you, always. Alright?”

His hand lifted to your face and brushed against the peak of your cheek before his fingertips traced down to your neck. You nodded quietly and Charles leaned in, grazing your lips with his. After a moment’s hesitation, you reciprocated, your arms linking behind his neck to draw him in further. It was a long kiss of comfort that tasted of sweet love and salted tears.

When you parted, Charles pressed his forehead to yours and let your noses knock gently together. He did not want to pull away so completely, he did not want to leave any unnecessary distance between you. So much had changed and left your lives so quickly that Charles could not bear the thought of separating from you. Not now, not even a little bit.

So, you both sat in silence and pressed as close as possible to each other. Eventually, your breathing evened out and Charles was able to check in on the new neurons that sparkled with growth. There was no denying it was there. A small piece of you and Charles made physical. It felt surreal, beyond even his total comprehension.

“Does that mean, in Cuba,” you began, pulling your face from Charles’. You did not have to continue for Charles to understand.

“Yes, most likely,” he replied, “but it seems fine. Healthy, alive.”

“I don’t know how to feel about that, about this.” Charles nodded and tilted his head up to press a kiss to your forehead. “First it’s the school, the X-Men, the world, and now...this.”

Against his will, Charles smiled against your forehead before he moved away to look into your eyes. “And now this.”

You gave Charles a small, hopeful smile. It was enough to make his heart swell and his chest ache with pure adoration. He leaned forward again, pressed another kiss to your lips and lingered. The soft scent of your soap and the warmth of your body against his overwhelmed his senses. Through it all, he could still sense the flickering shocks of budding cells.

He entertained the thought of normalcy, of raising a child with you. Charles would be lying if he did not admit he wanted it, wanted it as badly as he wanted to prepare the school. But he wanted you more. Forever if the world would let him.

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little-diable · 3 years

Text

Stitches in the dark - Spencer Reid (smut)

Written for @band--psycho 2k challenge, I love you and I'm so proud of you Tash! My word was "stitches" - I didn't highlight it in the text, since its pretty obvious. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Spencer and the reader are spending the night together at the annual FBI ball, but when his suit jacket rips he needs the reader to stitch it back together. Who would have thought that it would only take a needle and some threat to push the two into the right direction?

Warnings: 18+, sex, sex in a public place, mixed with some fluff, mentions a needle (for sewing)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (1.5k)

(Y/n) couldn’t help but frown at her reflection, tugging on the black dress Emily had forced her to wear, making her feel like a puppet stuck in layers of fabric. She looked beautiful, though just the thought of having to spend the following hours squeezed into a ballroom with people she didn’t even know the names of didn’t sit right with her.

But time was running short, she didn’t have a chance to back out, head whipping towards her front door. Spencer was pacing in front of it, knocking on the heavy wood again and again, till (y/n) finally ripped it open, staring at his tall frame. He was dressed in a black suit, looking as handsome as one could be.

“Hey,” (y/n) forced her gaze to meet his eyes, smiling at a gasping Spencer. He felt his lungs burning, struggling to keep on breathing, he had never seen her in a dress before, could only imagine what was lying beneath the heavy fabric.

“You look gorgeous.” Spencer cleared his throat, waiting for her to lock the door before she followed him to the car.

Both weren’t big fans of events and crowded places, but neither wanted to miss the annual FBI ball and since they didn’t have any dates they simply decided to go together, hoping that time would pass by quickly enough. Spencer opened the car door for (y/n), patiently helping her with her dress, chuckling at the struggling woman.

The air crackled, both couldn’t help but stare at one another, stealing glances whenever the car would take another turn, driving them through the city, towards the big hall. (Y/n) tapped her feet against the carpet, tightly gripping her dress to find anything to hold onto, wondering if he could tell how nervous she felt.

Not once had they spoken about their feelings for one another, too focused on their work, on the cases that kept them going. Spencer had always struggled with analyzing his own feelings, so it had been no surprise to the rest of the team that he couldn’t understand that (y/n) was clearly crushing on him.

“Just tell me when you want to leave,” Spencer murmured as the car came to a halt, waiting for them to step out before driving off into the night, leaving the two behind. Instinctively (y/n) grasped his hand in hers, tugging him close to stabilise her trembling frame - at least that’s what she told herself.

(Y/n) could barely take in her surroundings, trying to keep her breathing steady as Spencer pulled her towards the crowd, finding the rest of their team. With her heart racing on her tongue, she greeted her friends, not letting go of his warmth, the arm that found its way around her waist.

“Do you want to dance?” His breath tickled her neck, waiting for her to make up her mind, head slightly nodding yes, following Spencer to the dance floor. (Y/n) was thankful for the silence that lingered between them, giving her a few moments to make up her mind, sorting through her thoughts as they began to sway to the music.

The calming piano music wrapped itself around them, keeping them safe and shielded from the other couples. Spencer couldn’t help but wonder if she could hear his heartbeat, the strong muscles that pulsed in his chest. He felt like a young boy, the Spencer that had just been asked to join the team years ago, not used to chasing criminals all around the country.

But nothing would ever give him an adrenaline rush like this, keeping (y/n) close while they got lost in the calmness of the night. Both hearts ached as the song ended, forcing them apart, ushering the couple back to their smiling friends. None of them dared to speak their mind, very well knowing how Spencer and (y/n) struggled with the growing tension between them.

(Y/n) watched Spencer follow Derek to the bar, shooting Emily a warning glance, keeping her in line, at least for the night. She didn’t have any time to find a new topic to discuss with the team, Derek’s voice rang through the ballroom, calling for (y/n).

Both men were standing near the bar, fiddling around with Spencer’s suit jacket, trying to keep the ripped open fabric pieced together. (Y/n) couldn’t stop her chuckles from bubbling out of her, watching the two with twinkling eyes, waiting for them to tell her what to do.

“You can sew, right?” With her tongue pressed against her teeth, she grasped Spencer’s hand, pulling him towards the bathrooms, making their way into one of the stalls. She placed her purse down on the sink, combing through her stuff till she found her small emergency bag, pulling out a needle and some black thread. Spencer had sat down on the toilet seat, watching her with wide eyes.

“Give me your jacket.” (Y/n) didn’t think twice before placing herself in his lap, trying to make herself comfortable as she began stitching the fabric together. She felt his eyes on her back, not noticing how Spencer slowly moved his hands closer to her waist. His instincts seemed to guide him, taking over his system to push him in the right direction.

Spencer felt like he was on drugs, high and confused, out of place. His body worked without asking his mind for permission, lips meeting her neck, kissing her soft skin. (Y/n) froze in her movements, holding her breath. Was Spencer Reid kissing her? The Spencer Reid she had been dreaming of for years?

“Spencer,” his name fell from her lips, filling the small space. She dropped his jacket, turning her head towards him. Before another word could leave either one of them, their lips met, swallowing down their moans. Her hands got lost in his brown hair, holding him close as their tongues moved in sync.

“(Y/n), I-.” He didn’t know what to say, wanted to beg her to let him touch her. But the hands that tugged on his dress shirt, seemed to push him back into his mindset, guided by his emotions. She struggled to undo his shirt, so her hands moved lower, turning towards the zip of his trousers.

“Here?” His raspy voice rang in her ears, body turning so that she was straddling him. The “yes” she moaned against his lips vibrated on his skin, tingling in every cell of his body. (Y/n) managed to pull his trousers down, cock springing free. Her hands grasped him, no longer feeling nervous, instincts telling her what to do.

Spencer’s head rolled back, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed down another groan. (Y/n) couldn’t rip her eyes off him, he looked handsome, the darkness that engulfed them still allowed her to admire his lust drunken features. He moved his hands up her thighs, pushing her dress up to her waist, tugging her panties aside to touch her.

Both moved as if they had done this numerous times before, taking care of one another as their heart’s begged them to keep on exploring. His name bled from her lips, eyes fluttering shut, enjoying the feeling of his cold hands toying with her pulsing clit.

“I need to feel you.” Their mouths met, lips parted to allow their shaky breaths to fill the small room. With Spencer’s help (y/n) shuffled herself even closer, staring at him with excitement laced in her gaze.

“Do you have a-” he reached for his wallet, pulling out the small foil packet. (Y/n) ripped it out of his hand, opening it with her teeth before rolling it down his length. The moment she sank down on his cock, (y/n) felt burning flames of pleasure taking over her system, for a second her eyes snapped to her arms, wondering if she was truly burning alive.

Spencer had inflamed something deep inside of her, burning her system to the ground as he took over. Their hips met over and over again, skin slapping as she rode him with his hands placed on her behind. Both felt like they were drowning, holding one another down as the air around them got thinner.

“You take me so well, so tight, fuck.” Spencer murmured against her lips, feeling his own orgasm creeping closer, no longer could he control his movements, mind set on making her cum. “See how you’re squeezing me, you need me, don’t you?”

(Y/n) cried out, head buried in the crook of his neck. Her thighs trembled, she no longer could hold herself up, would let go any second now. Spencer moved his hand to her chin, tugging on her skin, forcing her eyes to meet his.

“Look at me when you cum.” His voice dropped lower, no longer the genius that was scared of messing things up with (y/n), but the man that fucked her raw.

She cried and cried, walls fluttering as her orgasm clashed through her like a tsunami, ripping her open from inside out. Spencer’s orgasm followed shortly after, cum filling the condom, holding her down against his hips.

Their heavy pants filled the bathroom, eyes closed, enjoying the bliss that flickered inside of them. (Y/n) pulled him in for another kiss, silently thanking him for touching her how she had always dreamt of.

What had started with a few stitches in the dark had turned into something so raw and passionate that both couldn’t help but thank their lucky stars for luring them out of their houses.

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dp-marvel94 · 3 years

Text

Fangs or No Fangs

For Phic Phight 2021. Jack and Maddie know that Danny is Phantom. They saw him transform and they knew they should talk about it with him. But...even after two weeks, that conversation feels impossible. And so Maddie has a plan: a trip to the planetarium to cheer Danny up, to finally see him smile, and to pave the way for the truth.

Word Count: 8,191

Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Note: So this story is a bit of a mess of three prompts. I started with the first one and it veered into this. Part reveal fic. Part post-reveal family bonding (err....Jack and Maddie know and Danny knows that they knew but they haven't talked about it and no one's acting like they know so...?) Either way, it's all an unholy mix of fluff and angst.

Prompt by @amabsis : The Fenton’s notice that Danny isn’t smiling as much, so the only reasonable thing to do is take him out to cheer him up! What happens when they do manage to get him to smile, and they find out he has small fangs?

Prompt by @charcoalhawk: Maddie and Jack find out that their son is phantom and fully support him. Danny and Jazz however did not get that memo.

Prompt by @phan-pheeking-tastic : Post-Reveal Family Bonding

It had been two weeks since Maddie and her husband had found out what the portal had actually done to their son. Two weeks since they learned that their baby boy was a ghost. Two weeks since they saw their ghostly enemy, Phantom, turn into their son.

It was on a normal ghost hunt. They’d been following Phantom, for once not yelling their normal insults but stalking him silently. The pair turned around a corner, to find Phantom standing with his back to them, a ring of light around his waist. Maddie tensed, anticipating an attack. Then the ring passed over the ghost’s head and the woman gasped. Her heart just about stopped, staring at the figure in front of her.

The figure, wearing jeans and a t-shirt and now with black hair, turned around. His blue eyes widened in panicked fear.

“Danny?” Jack whispered in awe beside her.

The boy’s mouth fell open, body stiff with fear. Maddie blinked and the boy in front of them, their son, their Danny, disappeared.

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

The two went home, numb with disbelief. Maddie thought it was a dream at first; she must have imagined it. Or this was Phantom playing a trick on them except…

Maddie knocked on her son’s bedroom door to check on him. “Danny?” The sound of feet pacing and heavy breathing came from behind the door. Then there was a sudden clatter, a yelp as if the boy had ran into something. The woman frowned. “Can I come in sweetie?”

“Just...just a second.” Danny called, voice echoing but unusually high with obvious nerves.

There was a flash of light, visible from under the door. Maddie paled, wheels turning in her head. Then seconds later, her son pulled open the door, opening it only wide enough to see his deathly pale face. “Yeah? What’s….” He coughed, forcing his voice into a more normal pitch. “What’s up?”

The mother stared into his wide eyes, biting her own lip. “Danny….” She hesitated, suddenly unsure. “Is there...do you want to...Is everything alright?”

The boy paled at the question, shaking slightly. “Yeah. Everything’s...everything’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

Maddie frowned. “Danny...are you sure-”

He cut her off, starting to push the door closed. “Yeah. Yep. It’s fine. I’ve...I’ve got homework. Seeyouinthemorningbye!” The teenager said the words so quickly, Maddie could hardly understand them. Then the door slammed in her face.

Dread dropped like a rock in the mother’s stomach. Shaking herself, the woman turned back and started down the stairs. She and Jack needed to talk.

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

“It’s true. Isn’t it?” Her husband said, as soon as he saw her weary face. “Danny’s...Danny’s Phantom. Our son…”

“Our son’s a ghost.” Maddie whispered. Danny’s panicked expression in the alley and just minutes before in his bedroom, flashed in her mind. “It must be true. All the evidence is there.”

How their equipment targeted their son. The injuries he tried to hide, to blame on bullies. Skipping class, the detentions, the missing assignments. Missing curfew, sneaking out. His constant exhaustion. Their equipment going missing, only to end up in Phantom’s hands. Their children’s fervent support of the ghost boy.

Danny was Phantom. He must be. They saw him change. They saw him as a ghost. Danny….he was a ghost, meaning...he was dead. And it was the portal. It must have been. The portal, their life’s work, the machine that he had said just gave him a little shock, must have killed him. Except….did it? It had been two years since then and Danny had grown. Maddie had hugged him since and he was warm. She’d felt his heartbeat. He seemed to be alive so….?

The parents didn’t know. Danny was a ghost...and yet he was not? Or he was still alive but had some kind of ghost powers?

Maddie put her head in her hands. “We should talk to Danny.”

“In the morning.” Jack yawned, rubbing his tired eyes. “I’m exhausted and Danny….” He looked down, guilty.

The mother sighed. “He must be tired too, if he’s not already asleep.” They had been talking for hours at this point, processing what they’d seen and hypothesizing. Both of them needed to lay down and calm their racing thoughts. So the pair went up to bed.

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

Maddie really had wanted to talk to Danny in the morning. But he’d dashed out without as much as a word to them. He did have school. They could wait and talk to him after, right?

Then after school, he raced up to his room with the excuse of homework before Maddie could even look at him. Soon after, he disappeared from his room and the mother saw a report about Phantom fighting the hunter ghost in the park. Guilt stabbed at her heart.

When he came home after curfew (and luckily uninjured), the woman didn’t have the heart to chastise him. And he looked so tired, so weary. He ran up the stairs, muttering an apology.

Talking to Danny the next morning turned into that afternoon again, turned into the next day, turned into waiting for the weekend. But then the boy was always over at his friends’ house or busy doing homework. He was nervous, flighty, skittish, and tense the brief times he was near his parents. And when he was, Danny wouldn’t look at them, wouldn’t talk to them, could hardly stand to be in the same room.

Maddie cursed herself. She knew they needed to have this conversation. She and Jack needed to talk to their son. So why couldn’t either seem to gather the courage? Why did the thought of talking about what the portal had actually done to their son, about how their work, their words, their actions, had affected him, make Maddie’s stomach roll? Why did it make her heart lodge in her throat, her lungs refuse to take in air? Why did it feel so insurmountable, like the guilt, the secrets would bury her alive?

Part of her wished that Danny would say something himself, that he would break the silence. Hell, she wished Jazz would call them out but no such luck. Instead a few days turned into a week, turned into two weeks.

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

Maddie sighed, looking down at her coffee. It made her insides squirm anxiously, thinking about all this. All that they’d done before they knew, her continued silence. The guilt was eating the woman up inside and Danny’s sober mood broke her heart. It had been so long since she’d seen him look anything but nervous and distrustful, since he’d been in the same room as them for more than five minutes. The mother’s shoulders fell. He looked so sad, so anxious; she’d given anything to see him smile again.

A soft yawn sounded beside her, causing the mother to look. The boy himself was swaying sleepily, standing at the counter. How had he gotten there without her noticing? He was so quiet, silent as a ghost. Maddie shook her head at the thought.

Then she frowned, letting out a short gasp. Danny’s had his hand through, literally intangibly, through the cupboard.

The boy turned, eyes widening; he suddenly looked very awake. He pulled his hand out, clutching a box of cereal. “Uh…. morning, Mom.” He paled, eyes widening.

Maddie’s frown deepened at that. “Good morning sweetie.” She eyed the coffee pot, trying to wipe the surprise off her face. “Do you want some coffee?”

“No.” Danny shook his head, biting his lip. “I’m good. I’ll just...uhh...bye.”

The mother held out a hand. “Danny. Wait.”

The boy didn’t respond, instead turning and practically sprinting away at almost inhuman speed. Maddie wanted to chastise him for running in the house. Instead, she put her head in her hands. Did Danny do things like that all this time? If he did, how the hell had they not noticed? They were really that bad parents, weren’t they?

Annoyance at herself flared at the thought as Maddie raised her head. She balled her fists. “We need to do something.” The woman looked at her husband. “We have to talk to Danny. Today. Actually….” She stood up, looking in the direction her son had gone.

“Wait Madds.” Jack interrupted. The mother looked down at where he was still seated. “We can’t just spring this on him.”

Maddie’s eyes twitched angrily. “Jack.”

“Just listen.” The man held up his hands. “How about we go out and do something together as a family? The Amity Park Science Center, they have a new planetarium show. Danny will love it. He’ll have a good time. He’ll get to relax and see that...see that we want to spend time with him.” The man worried his lip, his voice wavering with emotion. “I just want him to feel comfortable and safe talking to us, Maddie.”

Maddie’s expression softened and she sat down, grateful for husband’s insight. “You’re right.” She sighed. “Maybe doing something like a normal family will help him relax. And then...then we can talk to him when we get home tonight.”

With that, the parents agreed and informed both of the kids, earning wary but tentative agreement from both. Maddie frowned at that. The distrust stung but both Fenton parents had earned that distrust. They were ready to do what they could to fix that, starting with removing or deactivating all of the anti-ghost weapons in the GAV. They’d already moved all ghost hunting equipment into the basement and discussed dismantling some of the more dangerous-to-ghost equipment. But the ghosts, ones that their son had unbeknownst to them been combatting for the past few years, were still a very real threat to the town. They’d need to find a way to keep their weapons from being able to hurt him (Maddie’s heart ached at the thought) but that was for another time.

Now, Jack and Maddie were waiting downstairs for both kids to finish getting ready. Jazz walked down the stairs, a tight frown still on her face.

The girl raised her brow at the sight of her parents. “What are you wearing?”

Jack glanced at his wife and then down at himself. “Just jeans and a t-shirt, Jazzarincess.” He scratched at his neck, trying to look less uncomfortable than he was.

“But...you’re not in your jumpsuits?” The girl asked, still unsure.

Maddie shrugged. “We just wanted to wear something a little different, sweetie.” And a little more normal, the woman hoped she implied.

If Jazz understood the implication, she didn’t comment. Instead, she turned as Danny came bobbing down the stairs. The two shared knowingly looks, the boy’s eyebrow twitching as he noticed his parents’ clothes.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, shifting nervously. “Where are we going?” He asked quietly.

“To the Amity Science Center.” Jack beamed. “They’ve got a new show at the planetarium. Doesn’t that sound exciting, son?”

For just a moment, interest sparked in Danny’s eyes at the word planetarium. Then the wary look was back. Maddie sighed. “Come on kids.” Hopefully, he would enjoy himself and this would in fact help him to loosen up.

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

The fifteen minute car ride to the Science Center was quiet and tense. Danny glanced anxiously around the GAV as if expecting weapons to activate and point at him. He flinched at every bump in the road. Jazz looked worriedly between her brother and her parents, her brow furrowed with thought. Honestly, Maddie wasn’t expecting much better but it still stung. Half-heartedly, she tried to idly chat with Jazz but the teen just looked all the more wary.

Soon enough, the family arrived at their destination. They quickly passed through the queue to pay and then entered the first room, a geology exhibit. The kids wander off, softly talking to each other while passively looking at the displays. Maddie could pick up the worried tones but walked away, deliberately not eavesdropping. They were probably wondering about why exactly their parents were being so ‘weirdly normal’ and taking them out for a family day. But after a minute, the pair drifted apart, Danny wandering to the back while Jazz looked at a large display on the left wall.

Maddie was reading about volcanoes when she spotted her son at the case to her right. His eyes roved over the display, widening at the words. His frown slowly ticked up. The mother raised a brow at his expression, feeling relief.

She then looked into the case wondering what had him relaxing. Oh, of course. These were the meteoroids. They even had one rock from the moon that had mystified Danny even since he was a little boy.

Danny’s eyes lit up at the exhibit, literally. For just a moment, neon green flashed in his eyes. His teeth flashed in a smile. Maddie let out a small relieved gasp at the sight.

It was then, Danny noticed her. His eyes widened and his head turned, hand automatically moving to cover his mouth.

The mother’s expression instantly fell and she wondered at the behavior. But she didn’t say anything, instead allowing Danny to wander off again.

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

The family continued exploring, slowly moving from exhibit to exhibit. To Maddie’s dismay, Danny was tense at first. She hadn’t seen him smile again since the meteors. His expression was uncharacteristically neutral. It’s not that he was bored (not that he’d even been bored on a trip here) but he was visibly anxious, not allowing himself to relax.

That eventually changed, as the group entered the heart of the museum, the dinosaur exhibit. Life-sized replicas of T rex, Triceratops, and Raptors loomed over them, faux rocks, plants, and wall murals simulating Earth when the dinosaurs walked on it. With the shifting lights, the occasional dinosaurian roars over the speakers, and the excitable little kids running around, it was lively. Danny and Jazz were huddled over a display of replica triceratops eggs while Maddie looked at a fossil of a primitive flowering plant.

“Oh Danny! Stand there. I want a picture.” Jazz’s voice came from behind her and the mother turned.

“No. Jazz. Come on.” Danny pouted.

“Please.” The girl begged.

After a moment, Danny huffed. “Fine.”

The boy moved to stand in front of the replica raptor what his sister had pointed out. He forced a closed lip smile, holding out two fingers in a peace sign. There was a flash of light from Jazz’s phone, leaving the other teen blinking. “Jazz.” He whined.

“Sorry.” She smiled, sheepishly. Then she held out her phone. “Now take my picture.”

Danny wrinkled his nose, obviously displeased but played along anyway as his sister came to stand beside the raptor. “You should stick your hand in its mouth and look like you're screaming.”

Jazz rolled her eyes, instead just smiling at the camera. That is, until a roar sounded from the speaker directly behind her. The girl shrieked in surprise at the noise, jolting forward and holding her hand over her heart.

Danny blinked in surprise before suddenly cackling with laughter and pointing at the now huffing girl. He snapped a few pictures, capturing her undignified face.

Meanwhile, Maddie beamed. Hearing her son laugh after so long was a beautiful sound. She walked forward, wanting to join the moment.

Then Danny spotted her. He blushed, covering his mouth with one hand before his chuckles quieted. His mother’s expression fell again. That was odd. This was the second time he’d covered his mouth once she’d seen him enjoying himself. She raised a brow as if to ask but Danny ignored the look.

Instead, he started leading Jazz away. “Come on. Let’s get some pictures in front of the T rex.”

Maddie turned, watching them walk away and noting the oddity. Jazz had been the one wanting pictures. The girl also wore a disappointed look as she softly said something to her brother, earning a frown from him.

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

This continued as Danny seemed to enjoy the trip and grow more comfortable. Maddie would catch glimpses of him smiling at an exhibit or laughing at something his sister said. Then he would see her watching from a distance and cover his face. It was deeply bothersome. Did he not want his parents to see him enjoying himself?

By the time they were waiting for the doors of the planetarium to open for their show, Maddie’s stomach was flopping with anxiety over the behavior. Along the walls of the hallway leading to the theater was a display about the history of space travel. Ever since they'd first brought Danny here as a seven year old, this section had always brought her son such joy. He would smile and ramble, often even jumping up and down in eager anticipation for the doors of the planetarium to open.

Now, Danny was visibly trying to contain himself. Even as his wide eyes eagerly roved over the displays, his lips were forcefully pinched closed, almost as if the boy was exerting great effort to not smile. The display broke Maddie’s heart.

Then, the woman’s face set in determination. She wasn’t having this. They come here to cheer Danny up, for some parent-child bonding, so that’s what she would do. Maddie took a step forward, preparing to ask Danny what he was looking at. But then the doors to the planetarium opened.

Danny turned at the noise, meeting her eyes. His mother gave him a comforting smile. “Come sweetie. It’s time for the show.”

The boy nodded, giving her a closed mouth smile. He walked in front of her, into the theater and Jack and Jazz followed.

Maddie paused in front of a group of four seats. “How’s here, Danny?”

“Looks good.” The boy confirmed, sitting down.

Jazz sat to his left and after a moment’s hesitation, Maddie took a set to his right. Briefly, the boy tensed.

“Danny boy!” Jack’s enthusiastic exclamation cut through. “Are you excited?”

The boy blinked, turning. “For what?”

“For the show, dear.” Maddie chuckled.

“The show. Right.” Danny nodded. “It’s supposed to be about blackholes.” The corner of his lip turned up. “The poster looked awesome.” At that, the boy relaxed, letting out a breath.

Beside him, Maddie settled into her seat, relaxing as well. She hoped Danny would enjoy this. Soon, the lights dimmed, an image of the Milky Way appearing onto the dome in front of them.

“It’s starting.” The woman whispered happily to her son.

Danny perked up, his eyes widening at the sight. Music played through the speakers and the image shifted, the stars and clouds of the galaxy moving as if in a time lapses. “Wow.” The boy awed.

But the show was just getting started. Narration began playing through the speakers, the story of blackholes and their discovery. The life cycle of stars and their death. It was mesmerizing, the swirling images above and in front of them in the dark. It made Maddie’s lips part in a pleased smile, the beauty making the breath catch in her throat. Space really was incredible; the woman understood why her son loved it so. Thinking for her son….

Beside her, Maddie heard an excited gasp. She looked to the side, slowly taking in her son’s face. His eyes were wide, staring at the wall as the corner of his mouth turned though his lips didn’t part. He was clearly enamored with the program and therefore didn’t notice the mother’s observation at all. The woman smiled; he really was adorable when...he….was….

Maddie’s thoughts trailed off, her eyes widening. For a second, something flickered in Danny’s eyes before disappearing. The woman’s brow furrowed. A breath later, she saw it again. Ethereal green light flicker in his eyes, circling his iris before disappearing. Slowly, the boy’s lips parted. He blinked. The glow, the ghostly glow returned and Maddie’s jaw dropped. The light swirled like galaxies, overtaking his irises.

The mother stared. At the glowing eyes. Her son's glowing eyes. She recognized that shade of ghostly green. Phantom’s eyes. Maddie tried to shake away her surprise. She knew her son as Phantom. She did. She knew he was a ghost, or part ghost, or...she didn’t really know but….

Danny’s mouth parted into a grin. And Maddie’s heart skipped a beat. He was smiling. Danny was smiling. The ghostly light was swirling in his eyes, the light reflecting off his cheeks, his freckles. His freckles… they were glowy faintly and… shifting across his face, forming constellations. It was almost...beautiful. No, not almost. The boy’s smile widened, his teeth shining in the dark. He looked so happy and it was the most beautiful thing Maddie had seen in weeks.

All too soon, the planetarium show ended, the lights slowly turning on. Danny stayed looking forward for a bit as the ghostly light of his eyes dimmed. But he was still relaxed, smiling widely. At that sigh, Maddie finally noticed something. His teeth were...odd. On the top and bottom, his canines were unusually long and sharp, almost like….

The woman gasped, drawing her son’s attention. He paled, eyes widening in alarm.

Maddie pointed, quietly asking. “Danny? Are those-”

“No.” Danny cut her off, his mouth snapping shut. He covered his mouth with his hand as he rambled. “Of course not. Of course, I don’t have fangs. That’s ridiculous. Why would I have- Umph.” Jazz elbowing him cut off.

The woman frowned, opening her mouth to reply. But she had no idea what to say.

Luckily, Jack came to her rescue. He patted her knee. “Let’s go get some lunch, Madds.” His voice lowered. “And we can talk about…” He pointedly looked at Danny, letting the statement linger.

Maddie nodded in agreement. “Come on kids.”

She stood up and fronted. Danny looked pale and worried again. She offered him a comforting smile. At that, his eyebrow twitched but his anxious expression lingered. Then Jazz nudged him, before standing. “Come on Danny.” She offered her hand, pulled him out of his seat, and started walking out of the room, deliberately standing between her brother and her parents.

Disappointment rose in Maddie at that but she pushed it down. They would talk about all this soon enough but as for now… the woman’s stomach growled…. Getting food sounded like a good idea.

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

Ten minutes later, the family took their seats at a secluded table in the Center’s cafe. They’d bought overpriced sandwiches and now Danny was taking small, tentative bits of his meatball sub. Maddie looked down, picked up her reuben, and started eating. At the same time, Jack dug in and Jazz nibbled on her chicken salad.

There was silence for a long while, the buzz of the other patrons surrounding them. The woman wanted to make conversation, to ask what Danny had thought of the planetarium show. He’s enjoyed it, clearly. But Maddie wanted to hear him ramble excitedly about it. She wanted to see him smile again.

But Danny looked so tense now, so worried. His shoulders were hitched, almost all the way up to his ears and he was pointedly avoiding looking at his parents. The sight of her son's fangs and his face once he realized that she’d seen them flashed in her mind. She wanted to ask about those. When did he grow fangs? And why? It was because he was a ghost, wasn’t it? Many ghosts they’d seen did have fangs. But did Phantom? Maddie couldn’t remember seeing them before, not that she’d seen that version of her son up close often. Granted...she hadn’t seen him smile in either form for what felt like months. The woman’s heart fell.

Danny’s quiet voice broke through her thoughts. “Are you gonna ask?”

Maddie looked up, the corner of her lips twitching down at the sight. His shoulders hunched, eyes downcast. The mother reached forward, wanting to squeeze his hand comfortingly but hesisted. Instead, she offered him a caring smile. “Do they hurt?”

The boy looked at her, brow furrowing in confusion. “What?”

“When my wisdom teeth came in, I remember my gums and jaw being really sore.” The woman shook her head, focusing on the boy’s closed mouth. “I know it’s not the same thing but…. If they’re giving you problems, we can take you to the dentists.”

Danny frowned. “No. I don’t...I don’t need to go to the dentist.” He wrung his hands. “They don’t hurt or anything. Haven’t at all really.”

Jack raised a brow. “Even when they were growing in?”

The boy opened and closed his mouth before covering his face with his hand again. He glanced at his sister, worriedly. Jazz raised one brow, frowning deeply. She then looked at the parents briefly, her expression all the more confused.

Danny’s forehead wrinkled. After a long moment, he answered. “They... uhh… I just woke up one morning and...my teeth were like this?”

Maddie blinked in surprise, taking in the words. The fangs just showed up overnight? Well…maybe that was better than them slowly growing and causing the boy pain.

With that thought, the woman forced the confused expression off her face. “Can we see your teeth, Danny?” She gently asked.

The boy’s eyes widened and he vigorously shook his head.

Beside the mother, Jack’s expression softened. He reached forward, patting the boy’s arm with surprising gentleness. “It’s alright Danny-boy. You can show us.”

Danny didn’t flinch at the touch, instead looking thoughtfully between the two adults. Slowly he opened his mouth. There on display were his small fangs.

Maddie leaned forward, observing. Unlike last time, she wasn’t surprised. She’d known what to anticipate and to her shame, the woman had expected to feel discomfort or even disgust at the inhuman dentistry. But no such feelings arose. Instead her expression softened. She smiled authentically. “Aww sweetie.... They’re adorable.”

Danny blushed, gapping at the reaction. His embarrassed expression intensified as Jack replied.

“Ah come on Madds. You can’t call him cute.” The man grinned. “Our Danno’s fierce! And those fangs just make him look more badass.”

The boy blinked rapidly, like he could hardly believe what he was hearing, like the words just didn’t compute. Jazz looked equally confused.

Maddie waved the man off. “No one said he can’t be cute and fierce.” Her smile widened. “Our fierce little man.”

Danny facepalmed, whining. “Mom!”

The response was so normal, the typical reaction to a teenager being embarrassed by their parents in public. It made Maddie’s heart sing in relief, so much so, she started laughing. A moment later, Jack did as well.

The kids stared at the adults, both looking embarrassed and slightly tensed. But slowly, the pair relaxed, a soft smile crossing Jazz’s face. Danny’s lip parted as he snorted as well, shaking his head.

After a long moment, Maddie and Jack’s chuckling stopped and Danny’s smile faded. He eyed the adults, with crossed arms and a raised brow. “So...are you gonna ask why….?” He trailed off but Maddie knew what he was asking.

The parents looked at each other before Jack shrugged. “If your teeth aren’t bothering you and you’re happy with them, we don’t need to worry about it. Do we?”

“Um...I guess… but…” Danny still looked unsure, glancing between the two.

Maddie tried to comfort him. “You don’t have to tell us why, if you don’t want to. If you’re not ready.” Her expression was just serious, just forceful enough. Hopefully, he understood what she was really trying to say, what she was implying.

The boy uncrossed his arms, looking at her thoughtfully. “And...you’re okay with me having...having fangs?”

“Of course we are.” The woman’s expression softened. “We love you no matter what you look like.” It was odd wording for comforting her son about his strange teeth but that wasn’t what this was really about.

Something that might have been realization flashed in Danny’s eyes. He might just have understood.

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

The rest of their time at the museum was much more relaxing after that. The family talked more freely as they finished eating. After lunch, they finished exploring the museum exhibits and visited the aquarium portion of the center.

“Look! The shark feeding’s in ten minutes.” Danny pointed at the tank, his fangs poking just below his lips as he gave his parents a tentative smile. “Come on.”

He bounded forward, positioning himself near the front of the growing crowd. Maddie stood right behind him, the two chatting about the earlier planetarium show while waiting. The corner of Danny’s mouth gradually turned up as he got more involved in the conversation. Then he was actually smiling. For a second, his hand reflexively swung up to cover his mouth but then he lowered the appendage. He smiled unsurely but when Maddie made no comment, nor did her open expression change, he relaxed. Soon, the boy was talking animatedly and Maddie cherished every word.

Minutes later, the shark feeding and subsequent educational talk captured the mother and son’s attention. Or rather, it just managed to wholeheartedly capture Danny’s interest. Maddie’s eyes flickering between the tank, the volunteer answering questions, and her son’s happy face, small fangs included.

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

The family continued exploring. Danny cheered softly at the touch tank, once one of the stingrays finally paused long enough for him to touch it.

“Yes! Finally! See. That wasn’t so bad.” He talked to the animal, gently passing his fingers along the soft skin.

He smiled at Jazz cooing over the adorable poison dart frogs.

“Awww. I just want to pick it up. Cup the little guy in my hands. It’s so cute.” The girl leaned against the glass.

The boy chuckled. “Jazz. It’s a poison dart frog. You’d be deader than me in five minutes.”

The other teen huffed, blushing before she rolled her eyes teasingly.

Danny and Jack stopped in front of the jellyfish tank, their translucent bodies hovering behind the glass.

“Danno! Ghost jellyfish!” The man pointed excitedly.

The teen shook his head. “There’s no way that’s what they’re called.”

Jack thumped the sign. “Yes they are!” Danny blinked, reading the sign in disbelief. The man continued. “Imagine it son. Ghost jellyfish that came back as ghosts. Ghost ghost jellyfish!”

Danny laughed.

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

After that, the family explored the outdoor exhibits. Meerkats, Tortoises, Gibbons, Lemurs, Nile Crocodile, Red Pandas. The zoo’s star exhibits: the tigers and wolves. Yes, even the petting zoo.

They enjoyed all of it. Maddie asked the zookeeper's questions. Jazz took pictures. Jack peered through the glass with his normal boyish excitement. And Danny smiled.

Danny nudged his father. “Hey Dad. Can I have a dollar to feed the goats?”

“Sure kiddo.” Jack fished out his wallet and pulled out two bills. “For you and your sister.”

The boy nodded, handing the bills over to one of the employees and receiving two cups of feed. He handed one to Jazz and entered the enclosure. He smiled as the animals crowded up, eagerly sniffing at the cup.

“Alright. Alright. Here you go.” He grabbed a handful of pellets and held his hand out. An enthusiastic goat ate the food out of his hand. “Hey! Hey! That tickles!” The boy chuckled, scratching the animal on its head.

Maddie watched, enamored. Her son looked so happy, smiling so brightly.

“Oh, do you want some?” Danny asked, holding his feed-filled palm out to one of the sheep. The sheep licked the food out of his hand and he petted the curly wool.

True to what she had said, his little fangs were cute. And what’s more….

His eyes flickered towards Maddie’s face, noticing her attention. He didn’t stop smiling as he finished giving the goats, sheep, and donkey food and pets.

Ten minutes later, he turned over the empty cup. “That’s it guys. I’m out.”

The animals sniffed, wandering away as they seemed to realize they wouldn’t get any more food from the boy. That same enthusiastic goat persisted, nudging and licking Danny’s open hand. “I don’t have any more food for you.” He laughed. The goat bayed. “You can complain all you want. You’re not getting any more from me.” He petted the animal’s head anyway.

What’s more, seeing Danny enjoying himself and not turning away when Maddie noticed him smile, made the woman feel happy herself and hopeful. Spending time with the kids as a normal family did seem to get Danny and even Jazz in a better mood and more relaxed, like she and Jack had hoped. And Maddie found that she had enjoyed herself as well, despite the bumps. Yes, this was a day well spent and the mother wished it wouldn’t end.

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

But all too soon, the Science Center closed and the family had to leave. They piled into the GAV and as Jack started driving them home, the reality of what they’d have to face, the conversation they’d need to have once they got home, struck Maddie. Her insides flopped with sudden nerves. They needed to talk about it. Danny’s accident and his ghostly abilities. His alter ego, Phantom. The ghost fighting and resulting injuries. All the secrets. Guilt sunk in her stomach like rock. There needed to be apologies. For her and Jack’s part in the accident. For the times they’d ranted about capturing Phantom at the dinner table. The insults. The times they chased him, they shot at him. Danny’s fear filled face when they’d seen him change in that alley flash in her mind. They had terrified him and -

“Can we uh….can we stop somewhere for dinner?” Danny’s nervous voice cut through her thoughts.

Maddie frowned, glancing back at him. He was pale and biting at his lip. The woman furrowed her brow wondering at the sudden change in mood. Maybe he had picked up on her own nervousness. She glanced at her husband. Jack was also quiet and uncharacteristically focused on the road.

“We can.” Her eyes flickered in front of them, spotting a Nasty Burger a few blocks away. “There’s Nast Burger right there.” She frowned. “Wait. That one doesn’t have a dining room. Is eating in the cat alright?”

“Sure, Madds.” Jack nodded and turned into the parking lot less than a minute later. He rolled down the window after pulling up to order.

“Welcome to the Nasty Burger.” Came a voice through the speaker. “What would you like?”

After some deliberation, Jack recited the orders and pulled forward. He paid and then received the bags of food which he handed to Maddie. He pulled away from the window and parked. The woman surveyed the meals and passed Jazz and Danny’s food to them in the back seat.

The family ate in near silence for a while. Music softly filtered through the radio and outside was the sound of traffic but inside the vehicle, no one spoke. Maddie’s mind swirled, going over possibilities for the upcoming conversation. Where to start. How to approach this. Should they apologize first? Hint that they know about Danny’s secret identity. Just come right out and say it? Really, they should have done that long before now. They knew that Danny was Phantom and he knew that they knew. They should have talked to him about this weeks ago but...why was this so hard? How hadn’t they noticed sooner? Why couldn’t she just-

A gasp sounded in the back seat. Maddie stiffened, looking back in time to see a blue mist exit Danny’s mouth. The mother’s brow furrowed. It wasn’t cold enough to...Wait...understanding hit her as the boy’s eyes flickered side to side. Something glowing and green flashed in front of the GAV and there was an echoing roar.

Maddie paled. In front of them in the parking lot was a giant ghostly beast. It was a mix between a bear and a cat, snarling and hissing fiercely. The ghost growled at some teenagers sitting at a picnic table near the ordering window and in response, the kids bolted away, screaming.

Behind her, Danny was fumbling with his seat belt. His eyes widened panickedly as he looked between the scene in front of them and his parents. “I uh...I need to….” His hands were shaking as he fumbled over his words.

The mother glanced between her son and the attacking ghost. Part of her screamed to move; it was her job as a ghost hunter to protect people but….

“Uh...I need to...I need to go to the bathroom?” Danny stood, his knees knocking together even as his eyes flickered from his mom to the spectral attacker.

Maddie’s heart fell; she knew what this was actually about. “Danny.” She said softly.

Jazz bit her lip, turning from her brother to parents. “Shouldn’t you get...get out there?”

“Jazz.” The mother frowned. “Danny.”

“We’ll be fine.” The girl’s pitch rose as she flopped a hand, forcibly casual.

“Yeah.” The boy took a step back, eyes still pinned on his mother. “We’ll be fine. You guys go deal with the ghost.” He motioned behind him, towards the GAV’s toilet. “And I’ll just be in-”

“Danny!” Maddie interrupted. She stood up and turned, standing in the gap between the driver’s and front passenger’s seat. “We know. Danny. We know that you’re Phantom.”

The boy paled, his eyes widening with shock. “What? That’s not-”

Maddie pointed through the front window, forcefully. “Go.”

Danny’s lip trembled. Fear flickered over his face and underneath it, hurt. The mother’s eyes widened at the reaction before it hit her. She’d said the wrong thing. She’d messed up. Why do she keep-

“Go deal with the ghost, son.” Beside her, Jack had turned. His normally booming voice was so gentle. “You can change. Go deal with the ghost and we’ll be here when you get back.”

The boy stared at the man, anxiously searching his face. He was still shaking slightly and...were his eyes watering? Maddie remained frozen, watching. She wanted to speak up, to offer him comfort and reassurance. But the words stayed locked in his throat.

Then there was a roar outside, a boom. Danny’s head turned and he sprinted. Maddie blinked, paling as he literally passed through the closed door. A second later, something flashed out the corner of her eye. Maddie turned, watching as Phantom….Danny flew out in front of the GAV, shooting an ectoblast at the other ghost. Her knees shaking, Maddie fell into her seat. The bear-cat growled and shot a fireball at the ghost boy.

Maddie’s heart skipped a beat, her hand twitching over the door handle. They should go out there. She and Jack should be dealing with this. She reached for the holster on her belt. Her brow wrinkled as she found...nothing. Wait...she wasn’t in her hazmat suit. No belt, no holster, no ectogun. She frantically looked on the floor, before glancing behind her. There had to be something, someway to-

“Mom.” Jazz’s quiet voice came from behind her. “Danny will be fine. He knows what he’s doing.”

Yes. Maddie nodded, trying to agree. She had seen Phantom in action and he was competent. But...this was...this was Danny. Danny was out there fighting the ghost. Her heart rate increased. “No. We need to-”

Jack’s hand was on her arm. “No. We can’t, Maddie.” His voice wavered. “No guns. Not..not after we….”

The woman swallowed, understanding. No. No. They could go out there, wheedling guns, not after….Maddie shivered as the memory hit her. Pointing a bazooka at Phantom….Danny… his eyes wide with fear. Chasing him down while yelling insults. Danny...Danny, her son, even if glowing and floating with green eyes and fangs...Danny dodging their shots.

Maddie felt her breath quicken. No, they couldn’t go after the ghost in their current state. They shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t dream of, pointing any ectogun in Danny’s general direction. Not when they hadn’t made sure their weapons won’t target him, that they couldn’t hurt him. Not when…..Danny’s fearful face, just minutes ago...not when he might think they...they wanted to hurt him.

Another growl and a crash and the mother’s head suddenly whipped up, just in time to see a flash of blue light. Floating twenty feet in front of them was Danny, holding a thermos and pointing it at the other ghost. The bear-cat hissed as it was sucked in but seconds later, it disappeared.

Maddie let out a relieved sigh, as her son caped the thermos. Then the boy’s head turned, his eyes meeting hers through the window. His shoulders were raised, his wide eyes misty. His lip trembled and then he disappeared.

The woman gasped, reaching forward. “Danny. Come back.”

The boy didn’t reappear and Maddie’s heart skipped a beat. Her hand reached for the door again. She needed to find her son, to reassure him, to -

A knock sounded at the side door, across from where Jazz and Danny had been sitting. Maddie flinched, looking back. Another knock.

Maddie frowned, brow furrowing. “I don’t see...anything.” Nothing and no one was visible through the window but...that didn’t mean no one was there.

“Danny.” Jazz called, standing. Warrily, she glanced between her parents. She bit her lip. “Mom? Dad?”

“Danny’s….Danny’s invisible, on the other side of the door. Isn’t he?” Maddie asked.

The girl nodded. “I think so.”

“You can open the door for him, Jazz.” Jack sighed. He looked down guiltily.

Hesitantly, the teenage girl stepped forward. Her hand hovered over the handle before she pulled it open. “It’s okay, Danny.” She whispered. “You can come inside.”

There was no reply as Jazz stepped back. The hair on the back of Maddie’s neck raised as the temperature dipped. Her eyes widened as the door slide closed, seemingly by itself. Then there was the shaky sound of someone sighing. And finally….Danny reappeared.

Maddie’s heart skipped a beat. There he was. The ghost boy. Phantom. Danny. Her Danny...her son, floating in the mind of the GAV. He trembled nervously in the air, his misty green eyes flickering between the ghost hunters. He looked so scared and...something in Maddie broke.

The woman stood up, suddenly. Her hands started shaking, her eyes watering. “Danny.” Her voice shook.

“Mom?” His echoing voice questioned.

Maddie nodded, hesitantly approaching. “Yes, sweetie.” She reached forward, gently touching his arm even as he flinched. “I love you so much.”

Danny’s eyes watered, his voice trembling. “You...you really mean that? Really? Even though I’m…I’m...” He shook his head, unable to force more words out.

Tears started to blur her vision. “Oh, baby. Yes. Yes. I love you so much.” Her breath quickened, a sob threatening to escape. “We...we should have said something sooner.”

“No. I….I should have…told you. I should have...” Danny looked down, sniffling.

Maddie gently pulled the boy into her arms. “I...I should have reassured you.” Danny stiffened before relaxing into the hug. “I should have made you feel safe, like you could trust me with this.”

Footsteps sounded behind him. “Danny boy.” Jack squeezed in beside the two. “I am so sorry, son. I love you so much.” The man wrapped his arms around his son and wife.

With that, Danny finally started crying. A soft sob broke forth from his throat. “Mom. Dad.” He whined. “I just... I’ve been waiting...waiting for the other shoe to drop and you’d see. You’d finally say...say something and…. And...” He sobbed. “You’d see what a monster...what a freak..a freak I...I am…”

“No. Danny. No. You’re not...you’re not a monster. You’re..You’re my baby boy….You’re my baby, no matter what. I’m...I’m so sorry you ever...we ever made you think….” Maddie cried, squeezing him tighter as he cried. He was cold. So cold. But solid in her arms. She could feel the slight fluttering of his heart, pressed up against her own heart. And the ectoenergy swirling under his skin. That was new, something she’d never felt before. And she thanked the heavens that she hadn’t, that she’d never laid hands on Phantom when they hadn’t known the truth, that they had never landed a shot on him. Maddie choked through her sobs. “We messed up. We messed up so badly. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I need to do better.”

“Danny. I’m sorry.” Jack reassured, sniffling himself. “I’m so sorry too. I have so much to make up for. Me and your Mom...we...we will...we’ll make this up to you.”

Danny warbled. “Mom. Dad. I...I love you guys. I love you guys so much.”

The words pricked at Maddie’s heart as much as they uplifted her. All that they had done and he still said that. All the woman could find in herself to do right then was hold her son tighter.

For a second, the woman saw movement out of the corner to her eyes. A flash of red hair and...relief on Jazz’s face. The girl joined the group hug. “I love you little brother.”

Danny sniffled, nodding in acknowledgement even as he continued crying.

For a long moment, the family stayed huddled together. All of them were crying, trembling slightly with emotion. But through the sadness, another emotion broke through...relief. Danny sighed, the corner of his lip turning up slightly as his tears slowed.

Finally, the boy gently pulled out of their hold. He wiped his wet face. “You really...you really mean all that?” He looked between his parents. “You’re okay with….this?” He motioned up and down his body. “You’re okay that I’m a ghost? That I’m Phantom?”

Maddie offered him a watery smile. “Yes. I love you no matter what or who you are.” She placed one hand on his face and Danny’s lips parted just enough to see his fangs. “No matter what you look like, you’re my son.”

Dad nodded. “Fangs or no fangs. Ghost or human or….something inbetween.”

The woman glanced down, at the slow movement of his chest, the glow radiating from his body, the air below where he floated. “We don’t really understand this. But...I know I’d like to.”

For a moment, Danny looked worried. He floated back, away from Maddie’s hand.

Jack’s expression softened. “We want to know what life is like for you now. How we can help and support you.”

Maddie agreed. “We haven’t been there for you for a while but we’re here now.”

Danny nodded. “Okay….Okay...I think..I think I believe you.”

The parents looked at each other and Maddie’s stomach flopped. His tentativeness was understandable but still… it made her heart hurt. They’d lost much of Danny’s trust and would have to work to gain that trust back. They were fortunate he was willing to try rebuilding their relationship at all.

The mother sighed. “We do have a lot to talk about but….” She motioned around the crowded GAV. “We should go home first.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah.” With that, everyone stepped away, returning to their seats. The teenager glanced down at himself, blushing. “I’m still in...ghost form. I’ll just….” He bit his lip, closing his eyes.

Then a ring of white light, the same one that started all of this, formed around his waist. The light passed and Danny, now with black hair and blue eyes, gracefully touched down. He picked up his fast food bag and pulled out his half eaten burger. He took a bit before looking up at his parents, both of whom were standing and marveling at his recent transformation.

He smiled sheepishly. “Uhh...can we get milkshakes?”

Maddie blinked at the seeming random question. Beside her, Jack laughed. “Sure thing, Danno.” He walked to his seat and buckled. “What do you want? Peanut butter and bacon?”

Jazz wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Ew. Why would you eat that?”

Meanwhile, Danny laughed. “Because it’s delicious.” He addressed Jack. “Yeah Dad. That sounds amazing.”

The man nodded. “Madds, what about you?”

The question drew the woman out of her observation. She returned to her seat, answering. “Mint Chocolate chip sounds good to me.”

“I’ll do strawberry cheesecake.” Jazz piped in.

“Okay. Peanut butter bacon, mint chip, strawberry cheesecake.” The man listed off. “And I’ll do...peanut butter banana.”

Jack repeated the list while he pulled back into the drive through line. And Maddie sighed, relieved. Finally addressing Danny’s secret had not gone as she’d planned. But…. she glanced to the back to see Danny and Jazz were eating and chatting with each other, looking as relieved as she was. It went well, all things considered. As she said, there was much to figure out. But...today they’d had a fun time as a family. They’d relaxed, they’d bonded, they’d finally seen Danny smile again, after months. And...the truth was out. Apologies were made. After the fear, mistrust, and anxiety, Danny and Jazz as well knew that she and Jack would fully support Danny, ghost powers and Phantom alter ego included.

Maddie looked back, meeting Danny’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He gave her a fanged smile. Yes, it felt like...everything would be okay

#Danny Phantom #Phic Phight 2021 #Phic Phight #My fic #identity reveal #Maddie Fenton #jack fenton #jazz fenton

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aconstantstateofbladerunner · 3 years

Text

The Glitch

I get the Broken Reality au is a haha funny joke but there’s been some legit great art for it and since Butterfly is over and I haven’t gotten into the groove of my other projects yet, I decided to try some flash fiction of my interpretations. Note that this is very small and informal; I used whatever idea came into my head over the course of an hour or so instead of the weeks of planning that go into my usual fics. This was an experiment for fun. But if people enjoy the concept, I may be tempted to expand on it.

Credit to @lollitree @moonpaw @gentrychild @owlf45 and @cyber-phobia (I’m sorry if I missed someone I lost track of how many people were involved in this mess).

Content working for reference to infant death.

Please enjoy!

The city shut down for a typhoon warning. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Dark clouds blocked the sun so much that by mid-morning it still looked like it never bothered coming up. And yet the humidity made it too hot for coffee. Inko didn’t know how to feel. Work would have been a good distraction. But she didn’t want any coworkers or clients to see if today got to be too much. And it was already shaping up to be. She caught herself making two plates of food for breakfast.

Inko sat alone in the kitchen. She couldn’t bring herself to finish her own plate. Sickness set in fast. The food had been cold for a long time before she summoned the strength to get up and throw it away. Then she stood over the open trash can a while, debating whether to try and hold it together, or just throw up and get it over with. She eventually managed to keep her stomach steady enough to go back to her bedroom. There was another trashcan in there anyway.

A sound stopped her. From her office. The distinct sound of something heavy falling onto the carpet. Right as she walked past the door.

Please not this again…

She opened the door with her eyes closed. Her mind conjured a familiar image. A bedroom full of books and hero posters. Bright colors and personal touches. A child’s room. Inko opened her eyes to her drab home office. Some of the older case file binders slipped off the pile again. She really needed to sort those into storage. Not today though. She didn’t bother to pick it up.

Inko walked faster than normal the rest of the way to her room. She doesn’t want to face the temptation to search for old toys she remembers storing in the empty closet. Or search the walls for scuff marks from action figures tossed into them she could always see even after the walls were painted. She hid her planner on a tall shelf and put the ladder away to make it that much harder to go through it over and over looking for doctors’ appointments and school events she knew were coming up. Finally reaching her bed brought no comfort.

Of course she knew today’s date by heart. She hadn’t put it on a calendar in the fourteen years since she used to look at it every day. Inko stuck her head under her pillows, as if they could block out the silent noise of her memories. Memories of before, the time even when she was by herself, she was never alone.

Fifteen years now, today. With a shuddering gasp, the tears finally came. Thunder crashed outside. It’s not fair! Why is it still this hard after this long? Phantom kicks in her belly joined the growing ice there.

The hardest part was she still felt like that sometimes. Like she wasn’t really alone. Inko didn’t believe in ghosts, but the lost of what could have been was more than haunting enough. She felt it watching her. Judging her. Waiting just long enough for her to settle down into a peaceful, content existence before it reared up to plague her heart all over again. Cliché hauntings like spooky faces in the mirror or blood coming out of the drains would have been preferable. Those would be generic enough not to remind her directly.

Rain started outside. Her phone lit up with a notification she ignored in time with a thunderclap. The storm was getting closer.

Maybe I should call Hisashi, the thought crossed her mind. Maybe he’s going through this too. She bit her lip bloody. Her frustrated memories weren’t in question like the others. Probably not though. I don’t want to talk to him anyway.

Hisashi had been stuck in the denial stage of grief, which often came off as him acting like he didn’t take hers seriously. Not a year, not even half a year looking back, after they came home from the hospital, he wanted to try again.

“We can’t let mourning hold us up forever,” he said. “And it’s not like we lost a once in a lifetime opportunity! We’ve got at least another twenty years to keep trying!”

But we did lose him! she had wanted to scream. Still did, years later. Why didn’t he understand? He was your loss too! Inko wanted for the next roll of thunder, then shouted.

“I don’t just want any baby! I want Izuku!”

The lights went out. The temperature rose five degrees instantly when the ceiling fan stopped going. The rain stopped.

Power outage. Inko sat up with a sniffle. Turns out the notification was a warning about roving blackouts. Of course. Oh well. I wasn’t really in the mood to cook tonight any-

Thunder boomed even louder than before, making her jump. Then another. Lightning flashed outside at the same time. It was right on top of her.

What? I thought the typhoon wasn’t supposed to make landfall until later toni-

Another crash. It vibrated through her bones. Then another. The lightning lit up her whole room. Except for a shadow on the wall. Inko jolted to look, holding her breath, and found only her own shadow in the next flash.

“I’m such an idiot…” She went for her phone again. For peace of mind, she decided to use her data to check if an evacuation order went out. Or any updates at all really, since the weather came so much faster than the news said. “Nothing,” she sighed annoyed. “I hate being alone for weather like this…”

A new notification pinged.

[Mom]

Inko blinked rapidly. The message remained. All of her insides turned inside out in an instant, and she started crying again. Was this someone’s idea of a sick joke? No one ever got a chance to call her that. She touched the note to open it, but nothing happened. No app or source was displayed. Nor did it go away after a few seconds like normal.

“Wha- What’s going on?” she wept. In a mix of sorrow and rage, she wound up to chunk the device across the room. But she froze.

Outside her window, floating against the pitch-black sky, were two small orbs. Perfectly circular and glowing. Watching her. She didn’t dare move.

Another ping. She looked without moving.

[I’m sorry]

“… What?”

For a moment, all the sounds in the world dropped out. They all came back at ounce.

Lights flickered. Both the ones inside and the lightning going outside. Multiple strikes laid on top of one another. No relief. Thunder pounded over and over like a drum solo. It shook the whole building. Inko ran into the closet away from the window. She slammed her hands over her eyes but it didn’t help. Her terrified cried were whispers to the screams of the storm.

A child’s scream. She heard it. Each flash of light came with a cry. The distinct sound of a little boy calling out in pain blended with unyielding nature. It came from every direction. Every hair on Inko’s arms stood up in fear. She felt the charge in the air. But she had to go out. Her baby was crying for help.

She burst from the closet into the living room. All the lights and appliances turned themselves on and off. The TV showed only static between its flashes. Something drew her too it. The storm was deafening. It pounded through her head like a heartbeat. The beats got faster. The static flashes started to look like a face. Her usual caution was abandoned as she fell to her knees and touched the screen. The snow cleared for a single instant. Just long enough to look like the blank eyes from the window. She felt the heartbeat there too.

Then it stopped. All of it. The noise and lights all went quiet and dark. The TV went completely cold in an instant. Inko, stunned, palmed over it looking for something. Anything. The pulse. Warmth. A burnt fuse or faulty wire. But nothing. The rain started again.

She pulled her hands back to her lap. Her heart was still racing and tears kept flowing down under her chin. She looked around. Everything in the living room and kitchen looked the same. No sign of the earthquake-like convolutions the whole appartement experienced only minutes ago. Inko combed the entire space for evidence. An object knocked off the shelf. A picture frame fallen from the wall. The notifications. Toys in the closet or scuffs in the wall. Still not a sign. She even stepped outside her door to check the sky. Only light rain and shattered thunder, just like the news said the day before.

There was only one thing out of place. Back in her bedroom, the bottom drawer of her nightstand hung open. Inko had to steal herself before approaching it. There were only two things in there: a little green blanket, and a picture of the ultrasound. The most recent one from her last appointment. The doctor said he was doing fine.

“Izuku…” she whispered to it in her hand.

She remembered the squealing little bundling being put in her arms for the first time. The first time he smiled at her. Teaching him to walk, then immediately launching into play. Him coming home with bruises and scrapes after the kids at school were mean to him, and crying in her arms. Then, him coming home with his first real friends in a long time. She made them all dinner. Katsudon. That was Izuku’s favorite.

Only she didn’t remember. The same way she didn’t really remember the toys and scuffs. Those were fantasies. Daydreams of what could have been. She just thought about them so often they felt like memories. Especially today. It was his birthday after all. They’d fade back into vague dreams by tomorrow. They always did.

And she would be left with reality. The silence. The cold, still little hand between her fingers. Soft cheeks without blush. Eyes that never opened. Clutching him too tight to her chest, knowing the second she let go he would be gone for real and it would all be over.

But it was never over. Inko went through this same torturous song and dance every year for fifteen now. All the guilt and dread would subside slowly over the next one, until it all came back at once. Just like this.

At least it’s done for now, she tried to reassure herself, climbing back into bed. It still wasn’t even noon yet. Plenty of time for another breakdown. Hopefully the next one won’t be, feel, as loud. She sighed heavily into her sheets. This sort of thing can’t be normal. I should really try therapy again.

Against her better judgement, she kept the blanket out, and clutched it to her chest. Static electricity pricked her fingers. With her other hand, she reached across the bed, and tried to imagine someone else there. Not Hisashi, never him anymore. Izuku. He was fifteen and happy, but the storm was making him nervous so he came to lay beside her. She remembered it like it was now. If she closed her eyes, she could feel his warm, soft skin, with a healthy, if a little anxious heartbeat just underneath. The mattress warped as he sighed.

“We’ll be okay. It’s just a little rough weather,” she promised.

“Okay, Mom,” Izuku answered quietly. “… I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” I’ll start trying to get myself together tomorrow. For now, let me have this.

Izuku didn’t respond for a while. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Happy birthday.”

#midoriya inko #midoriya izuku #broken reality au #the glitch #mha #bnha #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #aconstantstateoffanfiction #april fools #the long con

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rebrandedbard · 3 years

Note

3 for Jaskier×Geralt please

3. “Please, don’t leave.”

tw: heat stroke

wc: 1706

Rain Rain Go Away

Geralt takes on a contract to resolve tensions between an angry nymph and the farmers who insulted her. Jaskier doesn’t do well in the heatwave she sends in retribution. Light angst ensues as Geralt learns why Jaskier hid his struggle.

Above them, the sun blistered. Geralt had walked astride Jaskier, the sleeves of his shirt rolled above his elbows. Though he ran hotter than humans, his body adjusted well to heat, and a bit of sweat went a long way to keeping him cool. As usual, Jaskier had elected to accompany him. He carried with him only his notebook, tucked in the hem of his trousers. This contract required no fighting and Geralt had been happy enough to leave his armour behind at the inn. Despite his initial reservations, he knew it would have been more uncomfortable to wear it in this weather, and if things took a wrong turn, his signs would be enough for such a simple confrontation. The humans hadn’t angered anything particularly powerful.

“Can this heatwave really be the work of a nymph?” Jaskier quietly complained. He tugged at the front of his shirt, fanning air inside. The hair stuck to his forehead was almost black, being so saturated with sweat. The bottom of his shirt had long come untucked and hung loose around him. He was talking to himself, the words breathy. Even now he was beginning to lag behind.

“They complained of the rain,” Geralt replied. “She sent it as a blessing for their crops. Until I can make their apology formally known, this is how things will be.”

Jaskier grunted and said no more. His feet dragged on the dirt path. Now and then he took a deeper breath and paused, braced on his knees. He would then compensate by jogging up to Geralt, though in a matter of minutes he would fall behind again.

The third time, Geralt turned back and said, “You’re slowing me down.”

“Nonsense!” Jaskier said, perking up performatively. He straightened his back and fluttered a careless hand in the air. “You just keep pace and I’ll catch up when I catch up. In the past you’ve made your position perfectly clear on the subject—you don’t have to wait for me. Besides, it can’t be much farther. Then again, ah, how far is it to this nymph’s hideout exactly?”

“It’s there,” Geralt said. He pointed to a small grove beyond the last farmer’s field.

Jaskier slumped, following his finger. “That’s … not so very far. Except that it is. Quite far. I thought you said that was the last hill just now and here we are, about to climb another. I may walk everywhere we go but—phew!” He paused to pant. Talking only seemed to make his face redder with effort. He sighed and sat in the dirt, head lolling forward. “Fuck, Geralt. It’s bloody hot. I’ll get blisters in this heat.”

“Go back and wait it out.”

“It’ll be twice as long going back as going forward. Besides, I doubt the nymph is keeping her grove as hot as the village. My blood would boil in the deepest basement there, but the grove … it’s probably … very cool.” He groaned and lay back on the ground, one arm over his eyes. “Damn heat. Can barely—well, you know. The thing I do.”

He flapped a hand above his head like a little mouth, opening and closing.

“Talk?” Geralt surmised.

Jaskier pointed a finger at him. “That, yes, thank you.”

Geralt sighed and grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. “Come on. We’ll be there in ten minutes if you keep walking.”

“Right. I’m up. I’m—oh.” He wobbled on his feet, pitching forward. Geralt caught him with one arm, but found he needed two to keep Jaskier upright, taking the full weight of him. Jaskier groped at his shoulder, his eyes unfocused. “Stood too quickly,” he said. “Just give me a moment, I’ll … I’m alright.”

He pulled out of Geralt’s arms and marched deliberately forward, following the path downhill. He made it two steps before swaying once more and stumbling to his knees. The momentum carried him and he rolled sideways, sliding on his back in the dust.

“Jaskier!” Geralt rushed down the hill and held him upright. He could hear his heart racing unnaturally. “Jaskier, how long have you been pushing yourself?”

Jaskier looked at him, confused. He patted his ear, brow furrowed as he focused. “I can’t hear you,” he whispered. He looked at Geralt in alarm, patting his ear still. “I—I can’t … can’t hear … what … ” His eyes lost focus once more, then his eyes rolled back and he went slack.

“Jas—Jaskier? Hey!” Geralt snapped in front of his face, but Jaskier made no response. “Fuck,” he hissed. He ought to have been more concerned when Jaskier stopped talking before. He scooped Jaskier up, draped over his shoulders, and hurried along the road. They needed to get somewhere cool fast. He only hoped Jaskier would be right about the grove.

“Idiot complains about a pebble between his toes but never thinks to take off his boot,” Geralt grumbled. Jaskier wasn’t the most pragmatic when it came to problem solving, preferring vocalization to action. “Now he keeps his mouth shut. Still doesn’t take off the boot.”

It was a struggle to jog without jostling Jaskier. He made for an awkward bulk, tipping Geralt’s balance on a few steps. Geralt had carried him before, but it was always a surprise to him how much more Jaskier weighed than expected. He was no easy burden.

It troubled Geralt that Jaskier had not taken steps to keep himself cool, or even to give any hint of his condition. He’d never been one to suffer in silence. Surely he would have noticed that something was wrong; he could not be so blind to his own circumstances.

When he reached the grove, he was relieved to find it was cool. He carried Jaskier into the center and set him under the dark shadow of a tree to keep him out of the sun. Carefully, he stripped him of his shirt and trousers. To help him cool off, Geralt wet the hem of Jaskier’s shirt with his water-skin and dabbed it on his face and chest, letting the air do the rest. Tilting Jaskier’s head back, he poured water down his throat, then left the remainder with him, just beside his hand.

The nymph found Geralt not long after he started his search. It was just as well that Jaskier had fainted, for he likely would have fainted had he been awake to learn that the nymph recognized him. She had heard his songs from the men who passed through her grove, humming and singing on their way to work, and from the children who sat in its shade. It happened that she was quite the fan of his music, and she was horrified that he’d become a consequential victim of her ire.

As the hot winds died down, the clouds were once more permitted to gather. The sun was hidden away and a light drizzle rained down over them. She wove Jaskier a fan of grass and twig, tending to him until his skin returned to its usual color. Geralt sat with her and made the apology as promised, though she’d long forgotten her anger in her distress over the famed bard. She lingered until he had sufficiently cooled, then went to inspect the villagers’ fields.

By the end of the hour, Jaskier began to stir. Geralt helped him sit up against the tree and would not allow him to try his feet. He passed him the water-skin, made him drink, and folded the shirt behind his head to keep him off the bark. When he was sure Jaskier had recovered enough, it was time for his scolding.

“What did you think you were doing?” Geralt quietly demanded. He saw the way Jaskier started and adjusted his voice. He sighed and took to folding Jaskier’s trousers more neatly, keeping his eyes lowered, giving him space. “If you were struggling, you should have said.”

Jaskier twisted the cork of the water-skin nervously. “I … didn’t want to be left behind,” he replied. His voice was weak, no more than a huff of air with each word. “I thought if I just kept going, I would learn to adjust. I would just get used to it. And I did, up to a point.”

“Why would you think—” but Geralt stopped himself. Jaskier had every right to believe it. Geralt had threatened to leave him behind if he ever lagged behind when they first met. Jaskier had been slow at the start, and over the years he had adjusted well to life on the road. Until now, he’d kept up. But Geralt had never slowed down.

“I didn’t want to be a burden,” Jaskier concluded.

Geralt placed the trousers in Jaskier’s lap. The movement startled Jaskier and he seemed to notice for the first time where he was, and under what circumstances. While he struggled with mixed feelings toward his current state of modesty, Geralt switched the empty water-skin with a second. He picked up the fan and waved it between them.

“You’ll always be a burden,” Geralt said. He handed Jaskier the fan and leaned over to adjust the shirt behind his head before it could slip down. “You’re a burden,” he explained, “but I don’t mind carrying you. You’re not so heavy. And even if you were, I’d … if you were, I’d adjust.” Though it was not as eloquent as the feeling he meant, it was the best Geralt could do to say it.

Jaskier stared at him in astonishment, the water-skin limp in his hands. Geralt opened it for him, helped him to drink it, then made him lie down once more. The contract was complete, but Jaskier needed rest still.

Geralt retrieved the empty water-skin and turned. A river ran nearby, and Jaskier would need more water when he rose. But as he turned to stand, Jaskier caught his arm. He looked up at Geralt with uncertainty in his eyes.

“Please, don’t leave,” he whispered.

And Geralt sat down once more. He put a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder, gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll stay, Jaskier.” He would always stay, as long as Jaskier asked it of him.

Send me drabble prompts!

#my fic #drabbles #witcher #the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #heat stroke is NOT fun #I've had it #all the blood rushed to my legs and I swore they would explode #I fainted every few steps I took trying to get to the bathroom so I could strip off as many layers as possible sitting on a public toilet #I passed out so many times in under an hour #drenched in sweat #I honestly felt like I was dying #now I get dizzy in under 15 minutes of strong sunlight #wear a hat and drink lots of water kids heat stroke doesn't fuck around

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