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murkystarlight · 8 months ago

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Dreamzzz season2 spoilers

(Tbh. This is just me writing down my commentaries while watching the episodes)

Episode 14

The cat is adorable. And pretty..(I say this word a lot)

Pyewacket?

Zoey having troubles.

Yo-... I wasn't paying attention for a split second, and I thought she jumped out the window-(cause the cat was looking out of it 😭)

Also- how is Cooper's mom letting him go out to places every night? Does he sneak out? What about all the other ones? What do they tell their caretakers?? "I'm going to sleep at an observatory with my friends that my science teacher owns. See you tomorrow! Bye~"

Cooper is trying a lot of new things. Good for you. Very good.

Those two make a nice duo

The Never Witch probably is like a... some sorta.. memory bank. She would do great at tests. Can she help me with my tests??

Make more of the dopples? Oh-

Oh he is jealous- also, potent biofuel made from dream trash? Nice. ...does. does pollution happen in dreams too?

Okay- so.. hammer? And key leads to orb. The key looks pretty

Dad's birthday! That's cool. Okay. Um.. how is that related?

Cooper's being alone and lonely

Oh- Astrid has to sleep at a different time- of course.

Same every year?? Jasmine? And some.. weird red hulk versions of-

And Cooper has done it again! He does most the stuff around here doesn't he

They got Zoey's cape- so... is the one still around her neck a different part? Or is it the same but torn off

At least Z gets the credit

Oooh~ pretty

They just pushed eachother inside-

Duty Decimal System. New knowledge people

Z-blob can be used as a... backpack?

The spinning dots thing is coool. How do you do that??

Also how do they hold the paper while it's spinning??!

Cooper's brother?? Do we actually get to meet- at his place?? Holy- ah thank you riddle

Izzie is now besties with Jasmine

And Mrs. Castillo says something interesting again. Something is up with that woman! I swear

And does this mean.. we aren't going to Cooper's place after school to crack the riddle with his brother?

Dallas! He's trying to sell scarfs- in.. not very much winter. Nice to see him again. Still selling his knitting. Only making the same scarfs...

Rock n roll realm? Okay- there's a lot of cool realms. And we don't know them all!(Wow. Logan sleeps well)

Mateo! You can't just cut him off like that..

Don't worry Cooper. It means you're getting more spotlight and focus. And not going to be abandoned after getting your character arc finished in the first two episodes.

"When you said you've been trying new things? That.. worked for you. Right?"

"Yeah. It's been great. But while I was trying new stuff, i think everyone else moved on. I feel kind of... alone"

"Alone isn't so bad. Nobody around to hurt you. Or for you to hurt"

"But it hurts. When the world keeps moving on without you"

I love the dynamic here. Those words are... kind of- hitting the spot but.. uh. Yeah. Nice. Very nice scene

"That's it!"

"You seem.. very happy about my pain"

"No, the world did move on! Stuff changes."

Then lore. But I really love this conversation guys. It... augggg

"The eye of the storm?"

"Bad weather? Need a scarf??"

(Okay. Dallas is also very adorable now)

Slept all day? Wow- that is some skills

And look at them dopples sleeping- omg--

The maze is pretty fun

Aannnd they're getting sucked in

Mrs. Castillo?? ...I'm telling you. She has something going on

And Cooper and Zoey is stuck together again.

And no- you aren't exactly giving off new best friends vibes Zoey. I thought you opened up. And he notices it too. Probably everyone else did also.

Okay it would be such a shame if we lost that thing. Because all the puzzle and stuff the time? So hard to find it. Lunia did some really good defense systems. Without booby traps

Okay. What happened to Izzie? What is that eye?!

Omigosh! It's Pye! Sick ...motorcycle? Okay... not what I was expecting honestly. But nice! That's awesome

That eye is messing with everyone's head- so... complicated. What is it supposed to be??

Um... doing the opposite?

"Aww... you called me Diz. I love it. are we besties?" That's adorbs. What? Huh? And she's crying? So many- confusing- ugghhh

"Wait. Why are you crying? If you're crying... shouldn't I be crying?"

💗(I used the word adorable or cute too many times-)

"Wait a second. If you understand me.. does that mean you understand everything I ever told you?"

Woah- lol. Your cat knows your secrets

"Not. One. Word. About the bathing suit incident"

...what bathing suit incident. What's that supposed to mean- Zoey! That was totally unnecessary! Why did you- Ugh. Now I'm curious- what do you f-ing mean???

That ball is making things really fun. I love it. Don't understand it. But I love it

Oop- Mr. Oz- I.. think... we owe you... another apology. Haha...

"[Laughs] pretty colors" yes indeed Cooper. You did a good job on that colored smoke

And now they're fighting- and Mateo is getting pulled into the mess- and... they're friends again. Welp- not sure what I was expecting. But they're having a bro moment. He has the smile on his face again so.. yay

Crocodile car!!

Dizzy is... still here?

Oh- the eye of confusion... it just... it literally just makes them confused. Oh. Okay. Yeah- that's it. Confusion. Mhm

The troubled look on Madteo- it's great

So many things packed into one episode geez-

Episode 15

Okay, Zoey. Are you sure it's a good idea to go meet your dad while he is.. dome-ified?

Also- why does he look... older?

The lip motions when Zoey and her dad meets. They're new. Cause... they be fed up and pouty and... twisted to the side?

Take care of Zian? Well. That's good. He- I like him. I like this guy.

He is trying Zoey. He... he admits his mistakes and try to apologize. Like.. genuinely. That is- something amazing

Gnorf's! Yayyy

New looks out of nowhere. Okay-

They caught Dizzy captive oohhhhohh

Cooper is not liking the sappy stuff

And now we're trying to find out about the crown.

Logan and Astrid~ they're really cute. Isn't too weird. Kinda forced and quick, maybe. But I think it's a good match

Astrid is kind of like a Cooper style

"What we face in the forge is not fear. But the thing we must learn to face within ourselves."

Interesting..... humm.... so the forge... then what about in the first season- okay. Cooper, um.. makes sense. Izzie... maybe she needed to like... let her mom go? I really don't understand Mateo's though.... maybe it's something like.. you can do it! Yayy (idk. Lol)

Oh here we are. The norfs

I loves theses dopples- seriously

And- Cooper is just.. chilling in the back. Okay. Well- yeah. He can do that. Do everything you want. He doesn't make a good cop does he?

So apparently the dopples still have the same interests and everything else. They're just... evil

"You like anime? Give up the Intel and we'll let you watch the Bunchu Bunny season finale. Episode just dropped last night"

"Oh, I helped Doom Dome the writer of that show. Made him tell me how it ends. (Spoilers of the anime)"

Well. That plan backfired. And bad. But at least we know? Nope. Doesn't help. She is the worst- (and we have two offended friends. Who love watching that anime. And got spoiled the ending-)(look at Cooper panting. So frickin cuuuutte. He's like- "no- you did not just do that to us-!")

And the bonus scenes?! No- she did not! How could she- but I need to know the plot and story of Bunchu Bunny now. It sounds fun-

Astrid has character building! Yayy let's see it

Logan has a interesting one too

You smell him on Zoey? What- and how did they know Zoey was using the watch for dream bandit stuff? Suspicious why they suddenly showed so much interest when Mateo opened the bag and showed them the eye too..

Logan!! Good, good

..another maze? ..did Logan just break the wall? He got an hourglass! Astrid needs to loosen up

On the table. He has had enough. And Izzie has a plan.

Look at Dizzies eyes going wide- dang... both Izzie and Dizzy sure love their pickles...

Logan grows! Whooo (I love that jacket-)(and the tail- holy. A tail??) Look at those two- finding true meaning, giving your hourglass. Blue and gold- mmmnnh

Uh oh-

"Promise me Teo. Promise me we won't ever become bitter like the GNORFs"

Why.... does that sound like... um... let's say- foreshadowing. .....it.. it sounds bad (also, what are you? A couple? That sounds so much like a couple in fanfics or smth-). Mateo doesn't even answer it

Eye twitch- Hehehe Yeah... yes. Use it agaisnt her. Savage- the give(not really) and take.

New look for Astrid too! So this is where she gets the new haircut!

Alright. We got two successful teams and one unsuccessful team

To the Nightmare king?? Him again? So is that what his crown is??

Episode 16

'Grim vengeance'? Please tell me Sneak is here again?

The snippets of info the dopples are giving us? They are delicious. Thank you dopples. So... what happened the last time the Never witch fought the Nightmare king?

Apparently the crown the Nightmare king originally has is not the crown we're looking for-

I can't tell if Cooper is shuddering because of the weather.. or....

Just keep away from the lovey dovey stuff they're portraying. If you don't like the sappyness

Susan! Snivel!! (Shoot- almost forgot about them) your babysitter hasn't come in ages, has he? Awww you poor things. They look so bored

"Anyone else think it's wack the Nightmare King had the crown of control this whole time but never used it?"

Exactly Logan! Ugh- it's weird. Right?? But Dizzy said from what she knows. Maybe someone else took it again?

Ruby in her staff? That's padt of it too? The ruby? *sigh* didn't know that

Susan carrying Snivel-

"Okay- maybe I should really stop throwing rocks-'

Eyes wide Susan. That was surprisingly cute

Sneak mentioned! Yay

A closet die hard vegetarian- holy- Oh my gosh

"Sneaky- sneak!"

Susan was shocked. But then realized this is worth bullying him about

Rainbow dance kitty-

Oooh Sneak has got some serious blackmail

Z-blob robot!! Yeahhhh

Susan helped! And- Snivel's just confused as heck

Okay- Cooper. Does have the fear and horror from when he was first captured. ...thank you

Trauma-

And Izzie just restarted Cooper's trauma

Darn it Izzie. Think a liiiittle bit more. Will ya?

"Did you miss me? I've been looking forward to this for days"

"You've been looking forward to seeing my for days-? Awkward~!"

Yes Teo! He is arrogant! He loves himself! And you technically count as himself. Duh-

"That's not what I meant! Tell me what you did with Dizzy"

Aw. So they do care for eachother

"Don't worry. She gave up real easy"

Zoey kicks Never Witch butt!

...uh- what happened?

Oh- they're in the Never Witches mind. Yes! Lore. Maybe we can see what the cloning herself thing is

So.. pretty and calm and peaceful

Sisters? Twins? Oh-

Helmet! Finally! Cooper! You have your helmet on!

Oh. Is that what the Never Witch means by the beginning? She used to be alone with that other purple hair girl. But other worlds started appearing and purple hair was interested and wanted to go explore. But the Never Witch didn't like it. Doesn't like change. Like we kept getting informed on

The islands are so pretty though

Accepting mistakes... hmp

Snivel keeps getting thrown-

Oh- sister... okay. But wow. If you love her so much. Let her do what she wants. And what do you mean 'if you go, don't ever come back'. I never understood those-

Uh... she just.. withered the flowers and made lighting crack? Anger can do things to people

Sandman!! Ahhhhhhh I missed you man

She went everywhere? Became one with the Dream World?? Whaaa??

What do you mean bring her back to me? You told her never to come back to you!

I like how Izzie and Mateo is heating the Sandman's words and thinking of their mom(I think)

So... I guess the Never Witch is a child playing with Barbie dream houses

Ah- we got babayaba's moving house(I don't know the name-)

Snivel- wow. We are really throwing away their trust for us

Oooh. The Nightmare King and the Never Witch! The fight. And it has something to do with the crown- the Nightmare King was keeping it away from her! Exciting

The crown looks cool-

So... she is blind?

"Welcome ba~ck! And... goodbye"

The sword! Oh yes! Those look so pretty! So Cooper's staff and Mateo's sword is also going to be here. Right? Right??! It's also very pretty (and Mateo made a... blob blasting thing)(looks like the Ghostbusters)

"I. Am the FIRST DREAM" WOAHHHH so anyways guys-

Did- what- um.. okay. So...

The Never Witch was just about to zap Logan and Cooper, Cooper jumps into Logan's arms amd the two wake up screaming. ...isn't it bad if they wake up in fear??

NO!! THE NIGHTMARE KING DIED

Also, why were you sleeping in your gym shirt Cooper? Is that your pj's? Or..

And seriously! Again? Why can't it be both Izzie and Mateo he says. And hugs. Why can't they just- why do every animation or movie or anything, do that! I want them all to be smiling and hugging, asking eachother if they're okay

Okay. But good job at reading the memory

We are going to.... the Beast realm!

#dreamzzz season2 #dreamzzz season2 spoilers #dreamzzz izzie #dreamzzz cooper #dreamzzz zoey #dreamzzz mateo #dreamzzz logan #dreamzzz astrid #dreamzzz

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riddle-me-ri · 3 years ago

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Different versions of the Riddler constantly making freudian slips when they are near their crush Y/N. Like they are hanging out and Y/N stops to smell a flower, and Eddie is just like, "I wish that was me...". But when Y/N turns around and asked what did he say he just blurts out. "I WISH YOU WERE STUNG BY A BEE."

"Gosh you are so lovely. I love you."

"what?"

"I meant - YOU ARE A MONEY AND I'M SELLING YOU TO THE ZOO!!"

(You don't have to do this if you don't want to I just think it is a funny idea.) ^^

A/N: Aww this is such a super cute idea lol but I think some Riddlers will probably be suaver than that, but most of them would absolutely erupt into random blabberings cause that's easier to explain than his emotions lol

Riddlers x Reader - I Love You--Wait, what?

Arkhamverse Riddler:

You just had to be near him, and that frustrated him. He was frustrated that he got flustered around you. You made his brain stop thinking logically, and purely upon emotions, and he hated it. You constantly distract him with your laughs and smiles.

The way your eyes genuinely lit up when watching him work. How you shared his enthusiasm whenever one of his machines or gadgets sprung to life. The way you looked at him with excitement and pride, the way no one has ever seen him.

He was working on another one of his projects. You would look between his blueprints and back on the parts he was tinkering with. Trying to connect what you saw on the paper to what was physically there.

Edward stopped moving his tools for a moment and just looked at you.

“I adore you…”

“Come again, Eddie?” You looked up to face him.

Edward froze. His hands tightened around his tools, wishing it was his neck instead.

“Oh, uhh..er..I said I warned you, not to get too close. Sparks could fly and there’s no use you going blind!”

Dano Riddler:

Edward enjoyed seeing you, it started to become his favorite part of the day. It took you sometime, but you were able to get through his hard exterior and you two eventually became friends at work. Of course, it didn’t take long for the companionship to evolve into something more deeper and intimate for Ed.

It was another boring business party. Edward will never understand why they make these things mandatory. He knew no one wanted him there just as much as he didn’t want to be there.

“Eddie! Is that you?”

He heard your voice over, and turned around to greet you, but he wasn’t prepared to actually see you. You were dressed to the nines in formal wear, it was the first time he’d seen you in anything but work attire.

“Y-You look stunning…”

“What’d you say, Eddie?” You asked with a small smile.

“I-uh-er-um..I-I was humming to myself, sorry..”

You giggled. “It’s okay, I’m glad I could catch you! You look handsome!”

Edward gulped the growing frog in his throat. “Uh…oh, yes, um…thank you.” Someone shoot him now.

Gotham Riddler:

Another tale of work friendship blossoming into something more. Edward appreciated you more than he could ever express in words. You actually listened to him, made an honest attempt at his riddles, he was overjoyed when you tried to tell some of your own (even though he knew the answers before you even finished them, but he was appreciative all the same).

It didn’t take long for romantic feelings to start taking over. He wanted to ask you out so badly, tell you everything; how much you mean to him, how he appreciates you…

“Gosh, I love you…” He muttered.

“I’m sorry, Eddie! I didn’t catch that!”

His heart stopped and dropped to his stomach. He totally forgot you were right next to him at his desk, overlooking a new report for him.

“NOTHING! Uh, uh...sorry I mean…I just said..that..uhh…I-I need you..your second opinion on this report…”

“Smooth.” said the dominant personality that lingered dormant beneath his self conscious.

BTAS Riddler:

Even though Edward is now a well known criminal, he does still enjoy making toys and games, even if nobody gets to enjoy them. However, that is until he met you. You were one his associates at Baxter Toys, and yet somehow stayed in touch while he was in and out of Arkham.

“Oh, Eddie…this is incredible!” You commented. You just solved his new renditions of an old puzzle box concept he developed.

“You’re incredible.”

“What?”

Ed’s eyes widened as he repeated what he said in his own head. “Oh, ah, um…I said thank you, you’re input is greatly appreciated.”

Zero Year/Capullo Riddler:

He actually says things like that rather often, and expects you to take it as a joke and not sincere at all. The only way you’d know it was sincere is when he backtracks, because he didn’t expect you to hear him.

“You’re pretty amazing…”

“What was that, Ed?”

“Huh, what? I didn’t say anything, can you go back to bending over, please?”

You rolled your eyes and instead walked out of the room, barely hearing Ed let out a “hey!” as the door closed on him. Proud prick.

Twojar Riddler:

He doesn’t see the reason to say anything unless he’s going to be heard. When he tells you something he expects you to hear it.

“I know I don’t say it often…but I hope you know..” He’s cupped your chin in his hand and made you look up into his eyes. “I am absolutely enamored with you…”

“W-Wait what?”

“You heard me.”

Gotham City Sirens Riddler:

One time, he was in his office just organizing some case files in his cabinets. You decided to take the opportunity to also do some spring cleaning around your office space as well. Plus you enjoyed spending time with Eddie. He liked reminiscing on old cases with you or cases he took in your absence.

When the scenario in question started, he was recounting a time your assistance really came in handy.

“I remember that,” he smiled fondly at the memory. “You are so brilliant..”

“Sorry, didn’t catch that! What did you say?”

“Oh, um, uh…I was just thinking…” His brain rattled to try and say something, until he realized. There was nothing to worry about what he said, because what he said is true.

“I was just thinking about how brilliant you are, I’m lucky to have you on my team.”

Young Justice Riddler:

You two were on another recon mission for The Light. You were sitting beside Edward on the jet flight to your next destination. You were staring out the nearby window, with a contented smile on your face.

He hoped you didn’t notice how he stared at you, yearningly. The way the soft light of the setting sun made your face glow more radiant than before. It made you look ethereal.

If heart eyes existed, he would have them right about now.

“Gosh…you’re so gorgeous…I love you..”

“Huh, did you say something, Ed?”

“NOTHING! IT WAS NOTHING!”

Telltale Riddler:

He’s sorta like twojar. Whenever he speaks, he expects to be heard, if he didn’t want anyone to hear he wouldn’t have said it in the first place. Not to mention it’s hard to get a compliment or any sort of affirmation, but on the rare chance he does, he won’t hesitate to manipulate you to think you didn’t hear anything.

He hummed pleased at the new outfit you were wearing. “You look radiant..”

“Hm?” You turned around to face him.

“Oh, nothing, dear. Don’t you fret.”

Gaslighting prick.

Hush (DCAU) Riddler:

You were one of the few hench-people he hired on that he could genuinely trust. You always had his back when it came to physical altercations with the Batman. You could keep a secret if he was weary of a traitor in his gang. He also had a massive crush on you as a result of this.

He watched you as you went through a basic work out regiment. Edward felt like an absolute schoolboy the way his cheeks were dusted a rosy pink and he found himself occasionally gasping for air.

“You’re incredible, God I love you..”

“Sorry, Eddie.” You slipped off the earbuds you had in your ear. “Did you want to tell me something?”

“NO-N-NOTHING..no..nothing at all…ehh er..sorry, I-I’ll leave you be.” He did leave you with his tail in between his legs and him kicking himself mentally, whereas you were just left confused.

#dc riddler x reader #riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #arkhamverse riddler x reader #dano riddler x reader #gotham riddler x reader #batman the animated series riddler x reader #btas riddler x reader #zero year riddler x reader #capullo riddler x reader #the war of jokes and riddles riddler x reader #twojar riddler x reader #gotham city sirens riddler x reader #young justice riddler x reader #yj riddler x reader #telltale riddler x reader #hush (dcau) riddler x reader #shit thats a lot of tags #ri writes

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ptergwen · 4 years ago

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hi uhm could you maybe write a blurb based on this tiktok? https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeUVgjaS/

i love your writing!! 🤍

thank you lovely <3 i watched this and then i just stared at my phone and then i had to come here and write it because WOW? we’re going with peter

this is like very suggestive but i changed it a bit

prompt: you’re playing video games with your crush and his friends. you’re sitting on his lap and you lost. you’re bouncing and... you’ll see

“fuck!” mj yells at you, fingers digging into her controller. “i said go left!” “i did go left!” you insist and try to run from the explosion coming your way. “oh my god, no! not your left, my left!” she leads your characters out of the building with her lip between her teeth.

you’re playing one of peter’s and ned’s video games, but you’re not sure which. call of duty or something. all you know is, there’s lots of guns and yelling. also, that you suck at it. mj hasn’t been shy about telling you. she’s on your team, peter and ned versing you two. they’re worlds better because they play literally all the time.

tonight was supposed to be boy’s night until you crashed and brought mj along. ned was slightly annoyed at first. peter didn’t mind one bit, welcoming you in with a big cheesy grin. after talking it over, ned agreed to let you stay on the condition that you joined their game. it’s better with more players, anyway.

“oh, yeah. go a little slower,” mj huffs and continues running to the exit. you’re way behind her. “there’s an option to run, by the way.” “you think i know how to use that?” you retort, shifting on peter’s lap to get a better view of the tv. there wasn’t enough room on the couch, so this was the solution. your idea, for the record.

“peter, can you help me? i have no idea what i’m doing,” you nearly whine. his eyebrows furrowed, he looks from his controller to yours. “uh, yeah. you see those buttons at the top? you just-“ “dude!” ned scolds him. “you’re supposed to help me, not her!” they’re the ones who are trying to blow up you and mj. he sets off a few gunshots for emphasis.

“ok, ok. sorry. i’m on it.” peter starts to chase after you and mj again. he drops his voice to a whisper. “press the triangle, you’ll speed up,” he tells you so ned doesn’t hear. “thanks, pete. you’re really good with your fingers, huh?” you shoot him a small smirk, catching up to mj. he gulps and keeps his eyes glued to the screen.

there’s always been some... tension between you and peter. the truth is, you like him a lot. you want to do more on his lap than just play video games. he likes you times ten, though he’s not thrilled you chose right now to act on it. your constant flirting and moving around is becoming hard to handle. that’s not the only thing becoming hard to handle.

peter must have zoned out because he tunes back in to see game over on the tv. “no, no, no!” mj cries out and slams down her controller. “fuck you guys for real.” it sounds like him and ned won. “good one, dude!” ned reaches over mj to give peter a high five, who halfheartedly reciprocates. “i’m being player one from now on, look what happens!”

you glance at peter over your shoulder through dangerous eyes. “nice job,” you hum, leaning back ever so slightly. “thank you... thanks,” he simply replies. his mind is getting foggy with your body pressed into his like this. “is there a rematch? how does this shit work?” mj demands, scowling at the title card that displays your loss.

“we can go again, if you really want to.” ned beams and stands up from the couch. “let me get a victory snack first, though.” he ventures into the kitchen, mj side eyeing you and peter. “fine, but we’re switching partners. the lovebirds against you and me.” you turn to face her, your hips rutting against peter’s... oh. he prays to every god you don’t feel that.

“don’t call us that. we prefer lovers,” you joke back. “we do?” peter squeaks, earning a curious look from ned in the kitchen. he clears his throat promptly. “i mean, we do. totally. yeah. that was... funny, y/n.” “ok, it’s getting weird,” mj announces, hopping to her feet. “i’m gonna go raid your fridge, thanks. bye.”

once she’s gone, you spin around so you’re face to face with peter. all that freed up space on the couch, yet you’re still in his lap.

“so... that was odd. are you okay?” you wonder, moving so your legs are on either side of him. it’s more comfortable that way. for you, at least.“um, i’m fine. could you maybe just stop doing that?” peter winces and sets his hands on your hips. “doing what? i’m only sitting here.” you tilt your head to the side. you’re either playing dumb or actually oblivious.

“if you mean the flirting, i thought you liked it. i didn’t know i-“ that’s when you finally feel it. or rather, you feel peter. “shit,” you mumble to yourself. peter eases you back a bit with a pained smile. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t even realize i was...” you trail off, putting a hand on his chest to steady yourself. his cheeks burn bright pink.

“no, you’re fine. i’m the one who should be sorry,” peter nervously chuckles and squeezes your hips. “this is probably creepy... and gross. am i freaking you out?” “it’s normal, and you’re not,” you assure him with a smile. your free hand cups one of his warm cheeks, cool in contrast. “you do like the flirting, then?”

“love the flirting,” peter practically purrs at your touch. his grip on you becomes rougher as he’s reminded of his little friend. well, not little. “listen... i’m cool with playing another game,” he starts, eyes locking with your dazzling ones. “unless you wanna help me out. could be fun.” you lick across your lips, ready to go.

“which one’s your room again?”

when ned and mj come back to an empty couch riddled with the smell of musk, they can’t say they’re surprised.

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland fic

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volleychumps · 5 years ago

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Hi hi! Can I get a tendou, oikawa, kageyama and atsumu after a fight where they make up? Fluffy ending please! ❤️

I BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE- TURN IT UP

Aftermath of a Fight w/ Their S/O- (Tendou, Oikawa, Kageyama, Atsumu)

Warning(s): slight angst in some of these, implied nsfw (by Atsumu ofc lmfao), but no direct nsfw themes

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

Tendou

“...sunshine, open the door.”

“Don’t sunshine me.”

The snap of your voice had the redhead flinching, fist that had been risen to softly knock on the wooden door sinking along with the weight in his chest. Tendou taps his forehead against the door, hearing your soft whimpers on the other side.

“Y/N, please-” He starts, wincing when the door is suddenly flung open, red eyes widening when you bump your shoulder with his in passing. Desperately, he reaches his hand out abruptly to snatch your wrist before you can stomp irritably to the front door.

“Satori let go.” Heat brimmed your eyes as you refused to meet Tendou’s pleading ones,

“Hell no. You’re going right back into that bedroom, tuck yourself into the sheets, and let me make you as many mugs of tea as you want.”

His attempted joke had cracks in his voice, and you find yourself wavering before finally meeting his eyes, lip quivering. You wanted this to be over, and the way Tendou’s lips had stretched into a strained smile in a sad attempt to not let you see how much he really just needed you made you begin to raise the white flag.

“I don’t want tea.” You mumble finally, Tendou’s head lifting all of a sudden as his eyes brighten. A yelp tumbles from your lips as Tendou’s long arms wrap around your waist, lifting you off the ground as he hugged you tightly to his chest, burying his face into the crook of your neck with his slender fingers entangled in your hair.

“I’m sorry for snappin’ at you, sunshine.”

“All this because I knocked over your manga shelf?” A choked laugh escapes your lips as Tendou pulls back, mock-offense in his eyes while keeping both hands on the sides of your face.

“They were alphabatized!”

“Whatever.” You sniff, tears now dry on your cheeks as your thumbs wipe at the corner of Tendou’s eyes, looking up at him doe-eyed.

“...Can we get into bed together?”

Tendou’s grin was wide as he lifted your hand to his lips, scarlet eyes filled with now feigned sadness as he kisses your knuckle.

“But then who would bring us tea?”

“I don’t want tea, Satori!”

Oikawa

“They don’t mean anything to me, Y/N.”

“Hm? I didn’t say anything.” You bite back, jerking away from Oikawa’s motions to help you drape your jacket off your body as you do it yourself. The brunette sighs, slipping his frames off his face to wipe at them with the end of his shirt, not looking up.

“You don’t have to. I know when you get like this, and you didn’t have to make a scene.”

“A scene?!” You blink in disbelief as Oikawa puts his frames back on, shaking his head slightly as if getting annoyed all over again.

“What do you want me to do? Physically push them away?”

“How about, I have a girlfriend so hands off?”

“I guess there just isn’t any winning with you, is there, Y/N?”

You chuckle humorlessly, turning on your heel to face him head-on with a lump in your throat. “Well then why keep up the flirting act right in front of me? Unless it’s not an act, then-”

“How could you even say that?”

Oikawa’s breath caught in his throat, watching your eyes well up with unshed tears of insecurity as you huff, throwing your jacket on the couch while turning around.

“Because maybe they’ll be good enough for me to lose you.” Your voice came out in a whisper, but they didn’t fall on deaf ears as the tears now streamed freely down your cheeks. Gently, Oikawa’s arms pull you into his embrace as chocolate-orbs now riddled with guilt peer down at you, not flinching when you push lightly on his chest.

His hold on you tightens, mumbling into your hair.

“They’re not you, princess.”

Oikawa couldn’t help smile slightly at the way you relaxed at the nickname, seeing he was no longer calling you by your given one, as he placed a gentle kiss atop your head, not minding the dampness on his shoulder.

“No one’s like you, so don’t think for a goddamn minute that there’s someone better, because I can guarantee you-”

You whimper a little when he lifts you by the chin, kissing one of your teary eyes now rid of any anger as his own stare sweetly at you through black frames.

“There isn’t.”

Kageyama

“Um, is it “National Ignore Your Significant Other Day” or are you pissed at me about something?”

“Hm. Funny joke for someone who pretends like it’s that holiday every single day.”

You don’t miss a beat, not looking up from the manga you were reading as you lay on your back upon your bed. Kageyama huffs at the fact that you don’t even spare him a glance before he takes a cautious seat on the edge of your bed.

“What are you talking about?” Kageyama just wanted cuddles. After a grueling practice yesterday and not seeing you wait up for him today, all he wanted was to fall asleep next to you.

“Nothing.” You say easily, and Kageyama frowns when he sees the slight tremble in your hold as you flip through the pages. Your eyes stay on the inked paper as Kageyama concentrates really hard, slipping off his jacket before blue-eyed widen in realization as he stops taking his jacket off mid-way.

“Shit....shit wait, yesterday wasn’t our ten months, was it?”

“And they say romance is dead.” You quip, letting the manga fall to your side as your eyes lock onto your ceiling with a heat threatening to spill over. “It’s not like you stood me up or anything, so don’t worry.”

“Oh, well that’s good-”

“Tobio, baby that was sarcasm.” You can’t help the venemous edge to your voice before you huff, Kageyama blinking in bewilderment as you turn on your side, facing away from him. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“I-I’m sorry...Y/N, I really forgot-”

“Because it wasn’t important to you, right?” You laugh a little, no humor behind the sound as you trace patterns onto your bedsheets. “Not as important as volleyball?”

“Don’t say that.” His words were harder now, and you gasp a little when Kageyama sits you up, forcing you to face him while glaring slightly at you, a blush on his cheeks.

“You...I thought today was the date. That’s why I stayed extra hours yesterday...so I can give all of today to you, and I fucked up, but...”

Kageyama clicks his tongue, shuffling around in his jacket pocket before emerging with a chain, a single charm holding two letters on it- kt.

“I’m sorry I’m a dumbass sometimes. Just...can I put this on you? And then can we just sleep and then wake up so we can go to some ridulous fancy-ass dinner?”

The moisture in your eyes was no longer of sadness as you lurched forward, kissing him sweetly on the lips as Kageyama sighs in relief at your touch, pressing the small of your back against him to close the distance even further-

it was all he had wanted, after all.

Atsumu

“You’re not mad at me right now, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I’m not? Thank you for the sudden revelation!” You gasp in shock, Atsumu hot on your heels as you furiously walked down the halls of one of the Black Jackals tournaments.

“Okay, you might be a little mad-”

“I’m pissed, Atsumu! That was your image, and people already think I’m messing it up-” You spin on your heel, sighing when Atsumu has to physically stop himself from crashing into you. He visibly wilts, and you swear you can see puppy dog ears atop his head as his shoulders sink.

“What happened to Tsum Tsum?”

“That’s all you heard?!”

“Why would I give a fuck about what the people think?” Atsumu blinks innocently. “All I care about is you...is that so wrong?”

You bite your lip, knowing he was being cute on purpose before rolling your eyes, trying not to give in.

“You don’t threaten the people in the audience, Atsumu!”

“Uh, yes I do if they’re eyein up my girl, sweetheart.” Atsumu’s brow raises as if he can’t believe this is even a discussion. “That ass is mine.”

“Atsumu!” You scold, cheeks flooding with heat as the passerbys look at the two of you strangely, prompting Atsumu to huff while crossing his arms.

“Don’t call me that!”

You groan, knowing there was no winning with your man-child of a boyfriend before Atsumu’s lips begin to lift, knowing he had successfully dispelled of your annoyance.

“Just...you make me so tired, you know that?”

“Aw, darlin’“ You can’t help the smile on your lips when he kisses your forehead sweetly, trailing down to your nose while hitting you with that shit-eating smirk.

“It’s what I do best.”

“Is everything about the bedroom with you?”

“Well, it is when you’re standing here in front of me looking like you want me to-”

“Public, Tsum Tsum! We’re in public.”

“Didn’t care then, don’t care now. Lighten up, sweetheart.”

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

General Works: @takemetovalhalla @savemesteeb @kasandrafaye @dreebbles @yams046 @aprettyfruit @therestless101 @deadontheinsidebut @therestless101 @dai-tsukki-desu @lifeisntjustblackandwhite @curiouslilbeast @wisepandaslimeland @lmkjimin @h0ngh0ngh0ng @orangegiraffe7 @let-me-have-my-own-name @theworldupthere @itz-tooru @kac-chowsballs

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reidsnose · 4 years ago

Text

Black Eye

overview: reader and spencer go to reader's highschool reunion as a fake couple

genre: fluff i think

warnings: mild violence and swearing, a guy being kind of a total creep, and mentions of bullying

a/n: idk if its any good again just love the idea but it was inspired by a dream i had last night (thank you temporal lobe) so yeah let me know what yall think !! :) also im posting this at like ass oclock in the morning so whoops

masterlist

you and spencer had gotten yourselves in quite the situation.

your dreaded highschool reunion was just around the corner and you made the mistake of complaining about it to penelope. she was always trying to make everyones life easier (and more interesting) so when she heard you had no date she took it upon herself to find you one.

it didn't take a lot of looking, none at all actually; because Penelope had already been trying to figure out ways to get you and Reid together.

you two were undeniably perfect for each other. you were an amazing team at work, you hung out alone all the time (though both of you denied these hang out as being dates, Garcia had her own ideas on this), and you were both very obliviously head over heels for each other.

and somehow, through the magical ways of Penelope Garcia, you and Spencer were now sitting in the parking lot, fake married for your high school reunion.

"do we need to go over our back story again?" you worried, looking up at him.

"our backstory is basically all true anyway we just fall in love after a little bit. and i have an eidetic memory so i remember; you're my wife you should know this!" he joked, trying to relax you. "we got this! we're gonna be so married!"

Spencer had actually never been this nervous in his life but he was trying to be brave for you. it would be more embarrassing for you both to show up like nervous wrecks than if you had just come alone. he was just happy to get to be fake married to you.

"the marriedest!" smiled, fist bumping him.

"now lets go make some people jealous!" he chuckled getting out of the car and jogging over to your side, opening your door before you got the chance to; like a true gentleman.

you stuck out your hand which he happily took into his, neither of you commenting on the redness you both had sprinkled across your cheeks. as you walked in, you saw all the people you dreaded seeing.

the boys who tormented you were balding and the girls who made sure you felt awful everyday had wrinkles riddling there skin. you were surrounded by botched botox and bleached blonde to cover graying hair. you felt terrible to admit it, but you were a little happy to see that their beauty had faded like this; they made their looks their whole personality in high school, you couldn't help but wonder what was left for them to be. not that it mattered, but you and Spencer were undeniably the most attractive couple there.

you actually had an ok time, you had spotted a few of your friends that you hadn't seen in quite a few years and it was nice to catch up.

Spencer had wondered a bit, but not too far, he was talking to some guys who used to be in science club when you were younger. you smiled at the thought of what they might be talking about.

"y/n! hey youve really filled out!" you heard a gruff voice from behind you.

you turned around and were met with the very unappealing face of the ex quarterback. Spencers attention had been caught at the sound of your name.

"um..hello," you muttered, trying to covertly back away from him.

"i see youve got a ring, interesting i dont remember us getting married!" he said in an incredibly creepy tone.

"do you know im a federal agent now?" you said through a gritted smile.

spencer had already begun walking towards you, he could tell something was off.

"ill tell you what sweetheart," he put his hand on your shoulder, pulling you slightly closer to him, "you can put me in handcuffs any day."

you threw his hand off of you and drew back your fist, but were cut off before you could deliver the punch but his hand engulfing your own, and squeezing.

"THATS MY WIFE!" spencer yelled in a voice you had never heard from him before.in the blink of an eye he was standing between in front of him. "do not ever talk to her like that, let alone lay a finger on her or so help me God i will-"

"what beanpole? what are you gonna do? what if i did this?" the man asked.

and then he sent a swift punch to Spencer's face.

thats gonna leave a mark.

in a matter of seconds, Spencer had him overpowered, laying face first on the floor with his hands uncomfortably angled behind him, completely helpless.

"now i'm going to let you go and you're going to walk out of here unharmed. if you try anything like that again, ill let my wife handle you. and i promise if she gets a hold of you, you'll be a dead son of a bitch." Spencer muttered in the mans ear, gruffly pulling him up by his collar and shoving him towards the door.

"were leaving." you said, grabbing Spencer's hand, trying to ignore how incredibly attractive he looked right now.

"babe if you want to stay we can stay," he offered as if he didn't just have his shit kicked in by a coward with misogynistic tendencies.

"honey, i want to take you home," you smiled, liking the way it felt to call him a pet name. you walked into the parking lot, "what were you thinking?"

"i was thinking this guy is trying to hurt you and i was not going to ever let that happen." he answered confidently as you two reached the car. "plus this totally made the marriage thing more believable. i wouldn't get a black eye for just anyone."

"thank you. i'm sorry you got punched trying to protect me." you sighed, feeling incredibly awful about the whole thing.

he chuckled, "id do it again."

you fought hard against the blush creeping up your face.

"i gotta say, the black eye really suits you. you look pretty badass." you chuckled, trying to change the subject before it got too sappy and you said something you shouldn't.

"maybe it should just be my new look," he joked, looking down at a ping from his phone. "uh oh."

"we have a case?" you asked.

"yep. and hotch wants us in the office asap which means we cont stop by either of our houses." he sighed before starting the car.

the drive was mostly silent. but a comfortable silence. Spencer thought about how in the moment, he didn't care how many punches the guy threw at him, as long as it meant you were ok, he was willing to take it. he knew he loved you far before that moment but that truly solidified it.

at the same time you were thinking of how quickly your time as a 'married couple' was over. it felt so right to call Spencer yours. so unexplainably perfect for the two of you to be together. if only your time wasn't cut short by a sucker punch.

you neared the building's parking lot. you looked over at Spencer who you could very easily tell was lost in his own world.

"whats going on in that beautiful head of yours?" you asked, causing him to stifle a smile.

"just thinking." he answered.

"what about?"

"us." he stated, pulling into his parking spot.

oh. oh.

"do tell."

he hesitated, "if i tell you, and you disagree, do you promise it wont change anything about us?"

"i promise."

"did it feel right to you? us being together?" he asked, his eyes innocent and filled to the brim with a mixture of anxiety and adoration as he looked at you.

"yes. it absolutely did. and i was so mad at the assclown for cutting our time short," you admitted, "and punching you in the eye, obviously."

"i- i'm not sure how to ask this but- do you...would you..sorry i-" he stammered.

"yes."

you cut him off, pressing your lips to his. his hand gently cupped your face, deepening the kiss and you both felt like you were on cloud nine.

"thats exactly what i was trying to say," he cracked a dopey smile, causing you to chuckle.

"i've been trying to say it for so long." you confessed, causing him to smile impossibly wider, "we gotta go hotch is waiting."

"just one more kiss?" he asked, which you gave in to, obviously. and then another. and another.

maybe it was good thing that he got a black eye that day, because when you got to the office the whole team was so focused on it they didn't even notice the hint of your lipstick left on spencers lips.

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #reid #garcia #penelope garcia #morgan #derek morgan #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #fluff #hotch #prentiss #jj #rossi #cm #bau #bau x reader

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adventuresinwonderlust · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Caution to the Wind PART 2

For PART 1 Click HERE

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, a lot of first times, tension, Solo/ mutual masturbation (m) (f), mentions of virginity and losing it (friendship pact)

*AUTHORS NOTE: Warnings will update per chapter as things get steamier*

Permanent Tag List: @mochilicious-yoongi @heyimtavia

Rating: 18 and over

You wake to the sun peeking through his curtains, rolling to find Yoongi gone. You stretch your body out before sitting up and looking about for your phone. Yoongi soon enters, coffee in hand, once you send an all is well text to your mother. He hands you the mug with a smile, “Good morning. Did you sleep well?” “Morning. I did, thanks. How about you?” He nods, taking a seat at his desk. “Do you want to talk about last night?” He murmurs. You sip your coffee, shrugging at his question. “Do you?” “I mean, I'm sorry about ruining the kiss. I'll try to control myself more.” “No, it's my fault. I shouldn't have, uh, you know, touched you.” You look away from him, your face heating. “I mean, I understand but also…. it's ok if you did…. or if you wanted to…. uh…. No pressure.” He stutters, scratching at the back of his neck. You can't help but giggle, your nerves kicking in heavily. “Why?” He chuckles. “I'm sorry I'm not laughing at you. I'm just, this is just a bit awkward to talk about.” You reply. He nods, covering his face with his hands. “How can we make it not awkward?” He asks from behind his hands. “Maybe let's not talk about it beforehand. We should just let it happen naturally.” You explain. He lowers his hands, nodding at you. “Ok, you’re right let's just move on then. What do you want to do today?” “Let's just chill out, watch a movie or play a video game. We can head back to my place.” “Ok, well let's do that early. I don't want to hang around here too long.” “Okay, let me just shower and get dressed.” “Same.” He says, jumping up to grab clothes from his dresser to pack.

You watch as he neatly folds his things and places them into his duffle bag. He soon turns to you. “You can shower first Y/N, it'll give me time to get my stuff together.” You smile, grabbing your duffle and heading into the restroom. You exit fully dressed and ready to go, frowning when you hear Yoongi arguing with his mother. “You are never home!” “You never make it so I want to be home!” “How happy then you will be to move out and into the dorms? Finally, away from your terrible mother.” “I’m counting down the days!” He shouts, stomping up the stairs and into the bedroom. You lock eyes and he just shakes his head. “I'll be quick.” He grumbles, heading into the restroom.

You both head down the stairs to leave, Yoongi’s mother in the kitchen staring at you. “Have a good day.” You wave at her. She simply nods, turning away as you both walk out. “You know you don’t have to try so hard. She doesn’t care.” “I’ve known her since I was a little kid. Of course, I have to try. My mother would kill me if she found out I was anything but respectful to your mom.” “My mom loves you Y/N, things have just been tough at home.” “I know Yoongi, you don’t have to explain. I’m sure things will blow over soon enough.” He nods, taking a seat at the bus stop. “I feel bad that she and I have grown so far apart.” He says finally. “Well, you are both pretty prideful. Someone has to give in and say I’m sorry.” “It won’t be her that’s for sure.” “Then it should be you.” He shakes his head at your suggestion. “Maybe one day but just not today.” You nod, not wanting to press anymore, luckily the bus arrives.

You make it to your house and figure out a quick dinner, your mom texting to say she'll be working late. Yoongi, always being the kind guy he is, packs a plate for your mom to eat when she arrives home. You both clean up and head to your room. “Go kart?” You smirk at Yoongi, who nods. “You’re going to lose.” “Whatever, we shall see. Set it up, I’m gonna change into my pajamas.” You instruct, heading into your bathroom to change into a black tank top and sleep shorts. When you emerge, Yoongi is sitting on the rug at the front of the TV, the video game on, cheerful music filling the room. “Ready to lose?” He chuckles, his smile turning into a cough when he looks you over. He hands you a controller and you take a seat next to him.

You smirk to yourself, watching from the corner of your eye as Yoongi eyeballs you, and you wonder to yourself if you will always have this effect on him. “Better keep focus Min.” You tease, getting the one up on him and taking the lead. Your avatar zooms quickly, your heart beating fast, your knuckles aching from how tightly you hold the controller. Soon your avatar passes the finish line, the game whistling to inform you both the level is over. “Woooooo!” You scream, dropping the remote and lifting your arms in the air. Yoongi rolls his eyes, nodding calmly. “Best 2 outta three.” He wagers. “OK but let’s make it interesting.” He scoffs at your remark. “Interesting how?” You feel your body heat. Getting the one up on Yoongi has your core needy. You go to set your terms when your mother bursts through the door, startling you. “Hey, thanks for dinner. I’m going to crash. It was a long day. Try to keep it down ok.” “Yeah mom, sorry.” “Night.” She winks, closing the door.

“What was I saying?” You look back at Yoongi. “You wanted to make things interesting.” “Oh yes! So, since you lost this round, I want your shirt.” You smirk. His brow furrows and he looks down at his t-shirt, laughing nervously. “I’m not wearing anything underneath.” You shrug at his comment and feel your face heat when his Adam’s apple bobs with his hard swallow. He chuckles again and grabs the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up and over his head. He tosses it to you, his gorgeous skin on display, and you drop it in front of you happily. “Next round is mine.” He warns, grabbing his remote. You begin the next round and find yourself hyper focused on winning. Your hands are aching, not as large as Yoongi’s who can grip the control with ease. You squeal excitedly, in the lead. Yoongi grumbles under his breath, “I’m not going to lose this one!” You giggle at his words, taking your eyes away from the screen for a moment. Suddenly, Yoongi’s eyes light up and you whip your head back to the screen to see a computer player shoot a bomb at your avatar, knocking you out of first place. “No!” You whine, watching your avatar spin out of control. Yoongi whoops over and over beside you, his avatar quickly taking the lead. He leans up onto his knees, happily making noises under his breath, his avatar zooming over the finish line. He tosses his controller, throwing his arms up before pointing at you. “Told you I’d win. Take those shorts off.”

You scoff, a fit of adrenaline riddled giggles soon taking over you. You stand, tucking your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and drop them to the ground, using your foot to kick them over to him. He holds them for a moment in his arms, staring at you in your lacey black thong. You adjust the straps higher up on your full hips, slowly squatting down and sitting on your feet, your ass on full display for him. “Next round is mine.” You point at him. He doesn’t speak, unable to pull his gaze away from your plump behind. His eyes tracing your every outline, making your core burn with desire. “Focus Min, I want to win fair and square.” You say, grabbing the controller and setting up the next round. He grabs his controller, his eyes still taking you in. You’d be lying if you said that having his eyes on you wasn’t the best feeling in the world right now. You felt your arousal push pass your slit, wetting the fabric of your thong. You start the level and chuckle to yourself at the fact that you both are barely putting in an effort.

You see Yoongi's avatar speed up suddenly and so you decide to slow down, letting him win! “Ha,” He exclaims, “I win!” “I guess you do.” You shrug. His excitement soon fades, and He looks over your body again. “Um, well there’s not much to ask for.” He whispers, scratching the back of his neck. “You sure? Maybe you aren’t being creative enough.” You tell him, crawling over and locking lips with his. He moans, melting into the kiss. You pull away briefly to take in his needy look. “Don’t stop." He almost begs, leaning forward to kiss you again. You deepen the kiss, straddling him. Your cunt aching when he swirls his tongue around yours. His hands find purchase at your lower back, his fingertips fiddling with the fabric of your tank. You break the kiss again, “Do you want me to take it off?” His eyes widen and he stutters over what to say but the twitch in his pants give him away.

You sit up a bit at the feeling of his member pressing into you, his cheeks reddening, “I’m sorry.” He whispers. You shake your head, “It’s ok. I like how it feels.” You rock a bit in his lap, watching how his mouth falls open and his grip on your back tightens. “Is this, ok?” You ask in the hopes he’ll say yes, the friction against your yearning sex just what you need. He doesn’t speak, just nods, his hands falling to your hips. He tucks his slender fingers under the straps of your thong, gripping at your flesh before aiding you back and forth across his clothed erection. You mewl at the amazing feeling that slowly builds deep inside you. “Do.... do you like this?” He pants. You nod, moving your hips faster. He lets a soft moan escape and you’re quick to shush him for fear your mother will hear.

He bites his lower lip to keep from being too noisy and you find yourself trying hard to grind against him. You groan annoyed at how difficult it is to keep a good pace on the floor, your knees digging into the rug. “Let’s move to the bed.” You urge, standing. Yoongi hops up and follows you towards the bed. You sit down watching him approach, his erection creating a tent like effect at the front of his jeans. You swallow back you lust for him, rubbing your thighs together. “Do you want to take your jeans off?” He looks down at himself and back at you, his face and neck reddening. “Do you want me to? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You nod, feeling so overwhelmingly horny that you reach for his belt and begin to undo his pant. “Fuck Y/N.... I.... this has never happened before. I’m freaking out a bit.” “Me too,” You reassure him, “If you want me to stop at any time, just tell me.” He shakes his head, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he watches you tug his jeans down.

“Lie back.” You instruct. Yoongi shakily does as he’s told, groaning when you straddle him again. You moan lustfully at how amazing his clothed manhood feels against your clothed womanhood, so much better than any pillow. You want so badly to wildly grind against him, desperate for release. He has his hands on your thighs, his eyes fixed on you, waiting for your instructions. You lick your lips, an even naughtier thought coming to your mind. You slide back a bit, palming him gently, mewling at how incredible he feels in your hand even clothed. He releases a deep breath, his eyes closing shut at the feeling. “Do you like this?” You question even though you know his answer. He simply nods. Your body shivers at the sounds of his moaning. A surge of needy lust coursing through you. You grip his heavy manhood before nestling yourself into his lap again. You roll your hips into his. “Oh god!” He almost yells. “Shh! Try to be quiet.” You lean in to whisper in his ear. “Pl-please, go faster.” He begs and you nod, moving your hips in quick flicks across his erection.

“Do, do you like this?” He groans. “It’s nice. I like watching you.” You admit. He smiles seductively, wrapping an arm around your waist and flipping you onto your back. “I want you to like it too.” He whispers, shoving his erection into your soaked center. You can't help but hitch forward, dry humping your needy bud into his length. You moan quietly into his ear, reveling in the gentle kisses he traces along your collar bone and neck. Your skin begins to goose at the feeling of his soft lips against your hot skin. Your body burning as it nears your climax. “Yoongiiii, touch me.” You cry out. He stops completely, hovering over you and staring at your face. “Oh, Y/N, I want to, I’m just nervous. Maybe if you don’t mind, we can we try something else? If you don’t like it, we can stop.” “OK, yeah, what did you have in mind?” He bites his lip and you’ve never felt more turned on. “Show me how you make yourself cum.” He whispers. “Are you serious?” You giggle a bit. “Yeah, um, it’s a fantasy of mine. Like I want to see you touch yourself. I'll do it to. If you want to.” He whispers, his eyes fired with lust as he leans in for a kiss. You nod, running your hand into his hair. Your tongues swirling around one another in desperate fury.

“Should I stay lying back?” You ask. Yoongi shrugs. “Are you comfortable this way?” You nod in response. “Ok. I can do whatever.” He explains, leaning back on his heels, still nestled between your legs. You both watch each other. One waiting for the other to make the first move. You bite your lip, dying for release. “Show me your cock.” Yoongi's eyes widen, and he chuckles nervously. “Fuck, that's so hot. I've never heard you talk like that. I'm so horny right now. I want you. I want you so bad. Show me too. Um, I want to see your…uh….” “Pussy.” You finish his sentence. He groans deeply, palming himself with a needy nod. You let out a shaky breath at the sight of him already touching himself. “You’re so beautiful Y/N, do you know that? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.” He confesses, gripping your thigh. “Oh Yoongi.” You whimper, leaning forward to plant a kiss on his sweet pout. He takes over the kiss immediately, suckling on your tongue and soon your lips.

You can't take it anymore and reach into his underwear. You wrap your hands around his length, swallowing the desperate whine that leaves his throat. You begin stroking him from root to tip ever so slowly. You’ve watched porn before and had always seen the women in them start this way. You break away from the kiss to look down at his member, never having seen one up close before. He’s long, thick, and veiny. The tip the same pink as his lips. Your mouth hangs open as you watch yourself work and you soak yourself even more. Yoongi looks down also, his breathing erratic, soft moans leaving his kiss swollen pout. “Just like that, that’s so good.” He praises, reaching back to squeeze your ass. You marvel at the sticky pre-cum that spills from his reddening tip, licking your lips when it’s dribbles down onto your hand. “Fuckkkk.... this feels so amazing. You sure this.... is.... your first time doing this?” You nod at his question, your chest filling with pride. “Lie back, Y/N.” He instructs, grabbing his cock from your grasp. You nod, doing as your told and lying back. You release a shuddered breath at the sight of him stroking just his tip. His head falls back and he’s a moaning mess. His chest rises and falls so fast, you wonder if he'll hyperventilate. “Take your thong off Y/N.” You do as your told, bending your knees to your chest to remove the sticky fabric from your saturated core. You chuck the material to the side, parting your legs slowly on either side of a knelt down Yoongi.

“Fuck....she's gorgeous. Sss- So fucking wet. She’s practically glistening.” Yoongi stutters. You bite your lip, lowering a hand to glide your fingers through your slit. “I’m so wet for you.” You pant, grinding against your own hand. He shudders, watching your fingers maneuver through your slick folds. He begins to stroke himself in slowly, his eyes fixed on your core. Your mouth falls open and you widen your legs to give him more of a view. “Oh, fuck Y/N! You’re so wet. Watching you is so fucking hot.” He breathes desperately. You glide a finger through your slit, collecting your juices, and rubbing soft circles on your swollen nub. All the while Yoongi continues stroking the whole of his length, focusing on his tip with quick circular motions. You both moan out loud, unable to keep your eyes off your respective roaming hands.

You begin to pick up speed, rubbing larger circles against your clit, eliciting a long low moan from your lips. “God, Y/N. Watching you is better than any porn,” He whispers, hitching his hips upwards into his clenched fist at the same pace in which your fingers move, “I love watching you. I can’t take my eyes off of you. You’re so gorgeous.” “Ah, Yoongi. I’m so close.” “Shit baby. This feels so good, so fucking good. I’m not going to last much longer either.” You lock eyes with him and soon begin rocking against your fingers. Yoongi tightens his grip around his length and you watch his expression of lust turn to desperation. “Fuck Y/N, I can’t hold it. I’m going to cum baby.” Something about him announcing his climax brings about your own climax. “Yes, cum Yoongi, cum. Cum on my belly. I’m going to cum too.” You mewl, lifting your tank to expose your belly. “Oh, fuck! Really? That so fucking….” He is unable to finish his sentence, your orgasm striking you like a ton of bricks. His eyes widen watching you bite your lip hard to keep from screaming, never having cum so hard in your life. Your back arches, looking up just as Yoongi moans out, spurts of white shooting from his tip onto your expose tummy. You gasp at the amount of fluid one person can produce but at the same you are so turned on by it.

He soon slows his movements, leaning in to kiss you. “That was just, wow. Are you ok?” “Yeah, are you?” Yoongi chuckles at your question, kissing you again. “It was so great.” You both find yourself giggling. “Good thing your mom didn’t pop in, or we’d be dead!” “No shit!” “I made a mess. I’m sorry. Let me grab a towel and I’ll clean all this up.” Yoongi offers, kissing you again. He gets up, tucking himself away, walking towards your bathroom. You look down at your messy belly thinking of how girls in porn love the taste of cum. You swirl your finger in his seed, bringing your hand up to your nose to smell it. The scent is distinct, almost reminding you of cake batter. You drop your hand immediately when you hear Yoongi come out of the restroom with a wet washcloth. “You sure you ok?” He asks again. “Yeah, I’m good. I was just so overcome by like hormones I guess.” “That’s ok. There’s nothing wrong with that. Besides we are supposed to be here to help each other out so don’t feel weird or anything. You can always ask me to you know.” He smirks, wiggling his fingers in front of his face. You slap his arm, laughing out loud. He carefully cleans his mess from your abdomen, folding the towel up and chucking it in your laundry bin. “I think I’m going to shower actually.” You tell him. “Ok sure.” He plops back on the bed. “Wanna join me?” You offer. His eyes pop open and he leans up quickly. “Uh, seriously?” You start heading off to the restroom, turning to face him. “Well? You coming?” He leaps off the bed and runs into the bathroom after you.

#bts smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #suga x you #suga x reader

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remmushound · 4 years ago

Text

“Class is in session!” Young April O’Neil tapped her ruler against the whiteboard.

The minute April had learned that not one of the brothers, not even Donatello, knew how to write in cursive, she had jumped on the opportunity to teach them. Even if she was physically the same age as Raphael (ten at the time), mentally she scored higher than all but Donatello, but then again nobody could score higher than Donatello. Yet here she was, in the teachers spot with Donatello as her student.

“This is lame.” Leonardo groaned, propping his feet up on his desk and leaning so far back in his chair that it almost toppled over.

“No talking in class!” April warned.

“Why?” Leonardo smirked.

“Because I said so.”

Leonardo was silent a moment, but the minute April turned around to write on the whiteboard, his voice started up again.

“What if I have a question?”

“Then you raise your hand.” April answered promptly. Her marker touched the board, then Leonardo spoke again.

“What if I break my arm?”

“Then use your other arm.”

“What if I break both?”

“Oh I’m gonna break them if you don’t stop talking.”

“Understood.” This time, Leonardo really stopped talking.

April cleared her throat. “First off: The cursive alphabet!” She wrote both big and small letters on the board for each letter, “Same as the normal alphabet, but fancy~”

“What the heck happened with G?” Mikey gawked.

“We don’t talk about G.” April said, “Leo are you paying attention?”

“Yaaaawn!” Leonardo gagged.

April huffed and clutched her ruler almost hard enough to break it.

“Um…” Donnie’s eyes were even more squinted than usual and he raised a hand.

“Yes Donnie?”

“Can you write it bigger?”

April frowned. “Raph, how’s it for you?”

Raphael was at the desk next to Donatello and sat up proudly at being addressed. “I can see it just fine, Apes!”

“Me too!” Mikey piped.

“Yaaaaawn.” Leo sighed.

Donatello looked around at his brothers with a frown as he shrunk slightly into his shell to hide his embarrassment.

“That’s okay Don.” April said with a smile, “I can make it a little bit bigger for you.” She did just that, “How’s that?”

Don gave a shy smile. “Better…”

April didn't quite believe him, but didn't want to bring it up. “Hey Mike, do you mind switching seats with Donnie?”

“Nope!”

Mikey took a place in the back row beside Raph while Don took a closer place beside the indifferent Leo.

~~~

“Names!”

April scribbled each turtle's name in their signifying color and pointed to them. “Honestly, this is the most important cursive you’ll ever earn. So you can sign your name and stuff— and no Leo I’m not excluding you from learning it just because you’re tiny mutant turtles living in the sewer!” She tapped the board, “Copy this down on your papers as many times as you can!”

There was the unanimous sounds of chairs adjusting and pens clicking and touching to the paper— three of them. April smiled as she looked out over the ‘students’ but frowned once more when she got to Donnie. The year-younger turtle was squinting at the board and near tears trying to make it out. He made an attempt to copy something down a few times, only to scribble it out seconds later. Then, finally, he got up and walked over to the board instead.

“Uh… can I…?” His nose was practically pressed to the board so he could make out his name, supporting his paper against the wall to scribble a quick draft before returning to his desk and copying the rest of his attempts off of the first attempt.

~~~

When she announced for them to turn their papers in, Mikey was of course the first one in line, bouncing excitedly as he shoved his way to the front and held out his paper to April. April smiled and accepted it, yet Mikey lingered awaiting praise.

His work was surprisingly neat for someone so hyperactive, though big and riddled with far more loops than necessary. Legible, but far from perfection. She smiled down at Mikey and gave the tiny box turtle a pat on the head.

“Great work Mike! Try writing a little smaller next time so you can fit more on the paper!” She drew a smiley face on Mikey’s paper.

Mikey gave an excited squeal and snatched the paper, hugging it tightly to his plastron and churring softly before running off. Then came Raphael. His writing was also big and bold like Michelangelo’s, but without the foundation of neatness that the youngest brother held.

“Good job, Raph! Same thing as Mikey, try to write a liiiiittle smaller. I know it might be difficult since the paper’s tiny compared to you, but you’re doing great!” She gave Raphael a flaming smiley face, and Raphael was content.

Donatello was nervous— nothing unusual. He held his paper out to April and almost winced as if expecting rebuke. April let her eyes linger on the anxious softshell a moment before going down to his paper. His cursive was just as illegible as his print always was— the shape was there and she could see some familiarities in the loops to indicate where each letter was supposed to be, but the letters blended together even more than typical for cursive.

Still, she smiled at Donnie all the same. “See? You did great, Don! I knew you would.” She gave a purple smiley, but frowned as the ink dripped and made it look like the smiley was crying.

Donnie accepted the paper without talking and sulked off. Leonardo was last in line, unusual for someone always so eager to please, with a smug smile as he held out his paper to April.

“I know, I know Keep your praise to yourself. I didn't wanna do it but I pushed through it and mine is no doubt the best. That’s why I saved it for last.”

April narrowed her eyes and saw straight through Leo’s charade of confidence. The writing was big, though not quite as big as Raphael’s or Michelangelo’s. It was clear he had finished his work fast, the paper filled and whatever space left filled with tiny scribbles. At first she smiled when saw how neat the handwork was, a welcome improvement to the flipped letters that usually riddled his print writing, but then when she looked closer at the letters themselves, she noticed something else. Though the letters weren’t flipped, they were distorted— not the kind of distortion that a lazy hand would result in, but each letter was blurred together, some of them with multiple loops where there was only one or none when there was meant to be one. April looked up at Leonardo who concerned eyes, though his look of confidence never faltered.

“Uh. Good work Leo.” She said vaguely, giving him a smiley like she had to everyone else.

~~~~

“Are you sure about this…?” Donnie asked nervously.

“Trust me!” April beamed, taping the handles of the glasses to Donnie’s face

Donnie, eyes still closed, still tried to turn to face April’s voice. “Whenever Leo says that it usually ends up failing. Painfully.”

“Well I’m not Leo, so stop moving!” She snapped Donnie’s head back forward so she could finish her work. Once she was sure that they were on securely, she backed away and grinned. “Okay! Open your eyes!”

Donnie opened his eyes. His first reaction was to squint like he always did, but when his eyes were met with detail denied all his life, they shot wide and starstruck. His mouth dropped open, he sucked in a breath, and backed up against a wall as the world spun in its new light.

“Wha…”

April beamed and gave an excited bounce, clapping her hands together. Her face looked unusually empty without her glasses, but she didn't care. She could always get new ones, but Donnie…

“Whoa…” Donnie’s dichromatic eyes flicked to everything in the room in quick succession.

“Donnie are you okay?” Mikey rocked on his toes with his arms folded behind his shell.

“I… everything’s just… it’s like seeing life in HD!” Once the shock left, a smile spread across his face and he couldn’t stop it from claiming his usually shy or disinterested features.

“Woah! I wanna see life in HD!”

Mikey jumped up and snatched the glasses from off of Donnie’s face, shoving them on his own. His eyes and nose immediately scrunched up as he looked through the lenses.

“Ehh… this doesn’t look like HD…”

April laughed and leaned down to boop Mikey’s nose while he blinked away the irritation of the focused lenses. “That’s because your eyes already work, Mikey.”

“Raph’s turn!” Raph stole the glasses from Mikey’s nose, laughing as he put them on his own face. His reaction was similar to Mikey. “Ehhh…. Not for Raph.”

“What about you Leo?” Mikey asked, appealing to the older brother, “Don’t you wanna try them on?”

“What, and look like a four-eyed nerd? No thank you.” Leo scoffed, crossing his arms stubbornly.

“Excuse me?!” April put her hand on her hip and dared Leonardo to repeat himself.

“Ah—“ Leo’s realization seemed to knock him off his confidence, “Not you April—you make them look cool—“

“Just shut up and wear these.”

April shoved the glasses onto Leonardo’s face, and the slider was immediately blinded by how… not blind he was. He let his mouth hang open a moment and sucked in a gasp, looking around with the much the same awe as Donatello had, before shaking his head and taking the glasses off of his face.

“See? Told ya! I don’t need em!”

Despite his words, there was a longing hurt in his eyes as he returned the glasses to Donatello and silently reserved himself so his twin could enjoy the full experience of being able to see a whole new world.

@brightlotusmoon

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rottmnt disaster twins #rise april #rise!turtles

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Note

64. I didn’t know my ex moved so you find me curled up on the floor in front of your apartment door

Ot4, nsfw, please!

Here you go!

Duck didn’t mean to fall asleep in front of her cave. But there was no one home and the rock in front of it is just the right temperature to coax him down into a nap in the spring sunshine.

“Um, can I help you?”

His nose tells him the voice belongs to another dragonborn before he opens his eyes. It’s just not the one he’s hoping for. Instead of blue scales and muscle, he finds blue eyes staring down at him while black and white scales glint in the afternoon light.

“Uh, I, uh, do you know the dragon who lives here?” He didn’t think she’d move on that fast.

“I am the dragon who lives here.” The other male adjusts the satchels on his shoulders, one laden with food and the other with books, “I moved in a week ago.”

“Well...fuck.” Duck slides off the rock with a groan, “sorry, didn’t know the place changed hands. Didn’t mean to, uh, crash on your front porch.”

“It’s okay. I was hoping to meet more of our kind here.” He writes a glyph on the door and it opens, “do you want to come in? I got some nice wine from town and, um” he scratches at the stone, “no one to share it with.”

“Sure.” Duck follows him through the familiar front hall and into the kitchen. The furniture is different, all clean lines and polished wood, and there’s new art on the walls. He reads the spines on the stack of history books on the table while his host pours them each a glass of wine.

“Thanks” he takes the goblet, “I’m uh, I’m Duck by the way. It’s a nickname.”

“Joseph.” The other dragon sits across from him, “I take your...ex lived here?”

“Yeah” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “we end things a month ago but, uh, I was missin her and I, uh, I, I, fuck, nevermind.”

Joseph sniffs the air, “surprise heat?”

Duck nods, “I was kinda hopin for, uh, for a pity fuck or somethin. Fuck, that sounds pathetic.” He rests his head in his hands.

“There’s no shame in wanting intimacy.”

“Guess not. Uh, enough about me, how’d you end up here?” He prays Joseph takes the hint.

“I travel around studying humans, trying to bring a greater understanding of them to our kind. My hope is it’ll help keep the peace, since we’re less likely to fear or attack things we understand. Kepler might be the place I settle; the town is a great mixture of dragon and human cultures.”

“So you just...study everythin they do?”

“Right now I’m focusing on technology. Hence the, um, the scars.”

“Oh shit” the white zigzags and bursts that Duck assumed were simply markings are, in fact, scars, “what happened?”

“Mostly minor accidents, like you’d get cooking or gardening. This one” he gestures to the white on his cheek, “is embarrassing; I was so engrossed in my research I didn’t notice the experiment I was running was about to go haywire.”

“Ouch.” He hazards a joke, “hate to see what your hoard is like, probably, uh, shock me.”

Joseph smiles, “I don’t really have one, it’s a pain to move it every time.”

“Not even a little pile?” Duck raises a brow; there’s a magpie-ish quality to the other dragon that suggests there’s a collection hiding somewhere.

A faint dusting of gold on his cheeks, “I do have a, um, a small stack of books.”

“Can I see?”

“Of course. This way.” He leads them to the master bedroom. A wave of unwelcome nostalgia hits Duck as he enters, and he’s about to excuse himself back to the kitchen when a giggle climbs up his throat.

“A small stack, huh?”

Joseph settles on the cushions at the center of three towering bookcases, each crammed full, “I don’t have that many. I once met a wyvern who had whole hills of books. I like them like this so I can actually find things.”

“Hate to say it Joe, but this is an honest to gods hoard.” Duck kneels near him.

“Joe....huh, I like it when you call me that. Normally I hate it. And it’s a library, not a hoard.”

“If you say so. Uh huh, what’s this?” He crawls to where a pile of puzzles toys and games is hidden between the bookcases, “seems like the makings of another ho--oh hell yeah” he grabs a box, “Minotaurs Riddle, I fuckin love this game. Haven’t played it in years, lent mine to a trio of centaurs and never got it back.”

“Do you want to play a few rounds? I, um, I don’t have anything urgent tonight but if you have things to do-”

“Nah, got all my shit taken care of early in case...uh, well, you know.” Humiliation at his earlier desperation rears its head.

Joseph drags a low table over, “Then it sounds like we could both use a night off.”

Three hours and two bottles of wine later, they locked in a stalemate, Duck scanning his cards for a way to break it. He’s never had this intense an opponent before and it’s so fucking fun.

“I play the hero's spear BUT” he flips a card facedown, “on my own chariot, which opens up the way for my chimera to attack.”

Joe’s eyes flick between his hand and the board, pupils no more than slits as he concentrates. Then he sets his cards all facedown, “I don’t have a counter-move, so you win.” His grin is fairytale perfect, “that was great! And now I know your method of play so I can beat you next time.”

“You wish.” Duck doesn’t mean to growl as deeply as he does.

“It’s not a wish, it’s a promise.” Joe boxes up the game without ever taking his eyes off Duck.

“If you say so. But if you break it” he curls his tail around to stroke black scales, “think I oughta get a prize.”

Joe’s responding click-growl is unfamiliar, could be anything from agreement to “leave me the fuck alone.” He starts to retract his tail only for Joe to close his claws around it.

“I think you should get one for your win tonight, too. You did come here in a, um, a certain state.”

“Ain’t you the polite one.” Duck shoves the table aside and prowls across the pillows, “offerin that stylish tail up for meWHOAH, fuck.” He laughs as Joe, lightning quick, lunges forward and traps him on his back.

“Sorry, I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you since you got here. Gods” he undoes the wrap at Duck’s waist with a hungry growl, “do you have any idea how hard it is to think strategically with all of this” he runs his palms up Duck’s chest, “on display. Once I’m done give your body the attention it deserves, then I’ll put my ass in the air for you.”

“You drive a hard bargain Joe, but I’ll take it.” He grins as the other dragon gropes his thighs.

“Good. Besides, this is a proven way of getting over heartbreak.”

“Think that theory might need a little more testin. So get down here and kiss me.”

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

“Interesting.” Joe taps the bottle with a claw as he studies the ship inside it, “you really don’t know how they do it?”

“No fuckin clue. I can build model ships outside bottles, but this? This is wild to me.”

“I wonder if we-” Joe raises his head, inhales, and breaks into a dazzling smile, “dinner’s here! You can come in Barclay, we’re in the sunroom.”

Footsteps on stone announce the cook, who Duck usually sees at Amnesty Lodge down in Kepler.

“Didn’t know y’all did delivery.”

Barclay sets a bag crammed with tins and bottles onto the table, “We don’t usually, but Joseph’s a special case.”

Duck spots the blush on his friend’s cheek, “Oh yeah?”

“He, uh, he lets me test new recipes on him?” Two pink patches bloom under Barclays' beard, “there’s a berry custard tart in there today.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Joe’s tail is subtly twitching, “do you want to stay a bit and eat?”

“I’d love to, but I gotta get back before the dinner rush.”

“Right, right, of course, oh, right, your tip” the dragon darts into his study, returns a moment later with a small purse of coins, “here you go, thank you so much it, I’ll be ready for our cooking lesson on Tuesday and, um, it’s always nice to see you.”

Barclay pockets the money, smiles softly, “you too, Joseph. Bye Duck, see you in town.”

Joe watches him go long after he’s out of sight. When he turns around with a sigh, Duck smirks.

“You got it bad, Joe.”

“I know.” He slumps down in a chair, “I think he feels the same way but I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. Coming out to a dragon’s lair and getting hit on, all while you’re at work? It would stress me out if I was human.”

“You pay him for those cooking lessons?”

“No. I, um, I guess I could ask him then but dragon/human relations are understudied outside of things like midnight weddings. I’m not even sure how something like sex would work, if it would work at all. The books I have on it are out of date and, honestly, most likely written by dragonborns who never had firsthand experience.”

Duck stands, circles the table to drape his arms over Joe’s shoulders and nose his neck, “You could still just ask. Learn what he likes instead of fussin over research.”

“You’re right. I’ll ask. Eventually. Maybe.”

He chuckles and nips a sensitive patch of scales, “It’s a start.”

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

Duck’s busy in the back garden when the chanting starts. It sounds enough like an angry mob that he draws the thicket of brambles across the door to be safe before heading for the second floor and the window to the front yard.

The crowd isn’t from Kepler, people there know he isn’t much for offerings or other forms of intervention into human affairs. He inherited his position from a true dragon who was once considered a forest and weather god. It took years for humans who came to understand that while he could help them identify what was killing their orchards or blighting their fields, he couldn’t summon rain or quash frosts.

Not only do the humans out front seem unaware of those facts, they’re constructing a convoluted, cobbled-together, ceremony. There are offerings of food, but the chants have something to do with slaking his deep hunger. Which is weird, because when you offer food to a dragon it’s meant as a gesture of kinship, not fear. The music doesn’t match either of those dynamics, the robes on the elders are white, which indicates surrender in war, and the incense they’re lighting is too heady; if he eats with it in the air, all he’ll taste is myrrh.

Wait, those are the bundles of incense humans used to burn during weddings. No one’s held a midnight wedding in decades. And holding one when it’s not yet sunset is really baffling. He’s about to write it off as yet more cultural miscommunication when two men drag a bound figure, all dressed in black, out from the crowd and drop it near the door.

“Fuck.” He tromps down the stairs, peers through the thicket for a closer look. The figure is a young man, dirtied silver hair tangled across his face and shattered red spectacles on his nose. His ankles and wrists are tied, and when he tries to scoot back from the cave entrance the crowd jeers. The man looks sluggishly between the crowd and the cave. Resigned, he crawls Duck’s way.

The dragon sets a hand on the thicket to will it away and tell everyone to get lost when he scents blood beneath the incense. Members of the crowd are getting agitated, suggesting they light a pyre to hurry the process along. That’s not even remotely how a midnight wedding works, and were Duck a certain other dragon he might tell them that. Instead, he makes a gap at the bottom of the thicket, grabs an enchanted rope from his work closet, and whips it through the opening. Two seconds later he has a cheering crowd outside his house and a petrified sacrifice inside it.

He kneels, undoing his rope and the bonds. The humans brown eyes lock onto his claws.

“Please. Please just make it quick.” His voice is raw, his pleas continuous, but he doesn’t pull back when Duck cups his chin and touches his forehead.

“Fuck, you’re burnin up. Your eyes a pretty glassy too, wonder if-”

“Drugged. To keep me from running or fighting. Not like they needed to. They, they did enough before that.” He hiccups and Duck smells exactly what plants they put into the mixture. They’re meant to make the human body more pliant. More receptive.

Fuckers.

“Okay” Duck keeps his voice soft, “here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna take you somewhere you can lie down and look you over. Once you’re patched up, you can rest.”

He nods as Duck scoops him into his arms, “Need my strength.”

“Yeah, but not for, uh, for what you think.” He nudges the light with his elbow, illuminating the rumpled green of his bed. When he sets the human down on it, he tucks his arms across his chest.

“Can you get your shirt off for me?”

The man reaches one skinny arm under his back, whaps it about, then shakes his head. Duck eases him upright, let’s him slump forward onto his shoulder why he undoes the eyehooks and buttons. The sight that awaits him is grim.

“Fuck, what’d they have against you?” He counts gashes from four different instruments intermingled with bruises in every color.

“Outsider. Came looking for work. Angered the wrong person.”

“They get you on your legs too?”

A weaks nod.

“I’m gonna have to slice the pants off; got a bad feelin I might re-open wounds if I try to pull ‘em free.” He runs a clawtip up the outside of one leg; the human grips him, afraid, though when he runs a thumb soothingly up a newly-bare spot, he sighs happily. Duck’s instinct is right; there are half-healed wounds now oozing blood thanks to the man being tossed about. He instructs the human to lay on his belly, fetches his bandages and disinfectant from the bathroom, and starts water for the tea that will clear the potion from his system.

When he starts on the wounds on his back the human whimpers, weakly clutching the blanket.

“Shhh, it’s okay sweet thing. Know it hurts, but you’ll feel better soon.” He runs the claws of his free hand through silver hair, undoing tangles as he goes. He is sweet; long legs and wiry arms, a face that’s odd but impossible to look away from. Duck wishes he were a worse dragon than he is; he could slip his threadbare underwear down and relieve the effects of the potion another way. Instead he patches and cleans, tips tea between parched lips, and finds one of his smaller robes to protect the skinny frame from falls oncoming chill. When he’s done, the young man is asleep. So he draws the blankets up and goes to sleep in the garden.

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

His body feels like it’s been through a wine press. No doubt a result of the dragon “marrying him.”

No, wait. He’d taken him to bed, run his claws tenderly through his hair, but then he’d tended his injuries and let him sleep unmolested. Indrid rubs his forehead, wishing his foresight hadn’t been so weakened by his weeks in jail; it would be nice to know if this is a sign the dragon is harmless or if he just prefers his food uninfected.

The bedroom door slides open and a scaly figure walks in, nose firmly in a book. It’s not the same dragon as yesterday; this one is sleek, with midnight scales and long, narrow horns. The one who tended him was bulkier, with scales like a forest viewed from above, dozens of greens and golds melding together. His horns were shorter, Indrid remembers because in his fevered state he wanted to rub them. They looked soothing to touch.

“Oh, good morning.” The dragon closes his book, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just came in for some scale oil and I’ll be out of your hair.” He grabs a purple bottle from a shelf.

“Wait, please.” Indrid struggles to sit up, “can, can you tell me what’s going on?”

“We were sort of hoping you could enlighten us. From Duck’s description, your delivery was so garbled he couldn’t figure out what they wanted. Or, um, it was clear what they wanted done to you, but not why it should be or why they chose him.”

Indrid’s about to answer when a second voice drawls, “Joe, you better not be pesterin our guest with questions.”

The black dragon looks over his shoulder into the hall with a sly grin, “He asked me first.”

“Uh huh, a likely story.” The green dragon, Duck, steps into the room, pausing to kiss Joseph’s cheek. Oh gods, Indrid understands now; he wasn’t fucked or eaten yesterday because Duck was waiting to share him.

“Since you’re up we can--whoa, whoa what’s wrong?” Duck kneels by the bed as Indrid tries to scramble backwards.

Joseph sets his book and bottle down, “You still think you’re dinner, don’t you?”

“Wh-why shouldn’t I?” Indrid pulls the blanket up to shield himself.

“For starters, we don’t eat humans. And we sure as hells don’t fuck ‘em without them bein’ real eager. Even then, some of us stall.” Duck gives Joe a pointed look, “beyond that, someone dropped you here after torturin you. You need lookin after more than anything.”

“We should get these fixed too” Joseph picks up his shattered glasses, “I might have what we need in my workshop, or we could go into Kepler-”

“We’re near Kepler? Thank the gods.” Indrid slumps against the wall, “It was the last place I stopped before things went south. I should have just stayed there. Instead I got it into my head to keep travelling, find an enchanter to train under and got...well, you saw.”

Duck carefully sits on the bed, as far from Indrid as possible, “Yeah, I did. I promise, nothin like that’s ever gonna happen to you again.”

“And if you’re interested in learning magic, most dragons have some. I’d be happy to share what I know if you’re willing to assist in my research.”

“That means makin sure he don’t fall asleep too close to his experiments.”

Indrid has no idea what those experiments might be, but he decides he’s very willing to find out.

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

Voices echo from the back garden, so Barclay curves left instead of going to the front of Duck’s home. Joseph asked him to bring his next few meals here since he’s helping Duck with an “unexpected house guest.”

He’s anticipating another dragon, almost drops his cargo when he sees how wrong he is.

“Indrid?”

“Barclay! I, when Joseph mentioned we were getting dinner from town I hoped it was the Lodge but seeing you is better still.” The other man is in a thick sweater and is wearing one of Duck’s wraps as a makeshift skirt, “I’d get up to hug you but I’m a bit weak at the moment.”

“I got you.” He sets the bags down and leans in for an embrace.

“I’m glad you fellas know each other.”

Barclay remembers burying his fingers in fine, silver hair while Indrid kissed him and worked his clever fingers inside him, promising he’d make him feel wonderful. He did. Every time.

“Yeah.” He blushes, spots Joseph registering this information and--knowing him--storing it away for later.

He was already making frequent trips to see the dragons, but as weeks give way to months he finds that whenever he’s not working, his feet ache to wander up into the hills.

Tonight, he and Joseph made dinner for the four of them (Indrid’s taken up residence in Duck’s home, and the dragon seems deeply uninterested in making him move). The dragons are on dish duty, so he and Indrid wander back to the library where Joseph has lit a fire.

“You really ought to tell him how you feel.”

“Is it that obvious?” Barclay fiddles with the bracelet on his wrist.

“Very. Then again, I know what desire looks like on you.” Indrid bumps their shoulders together playfully.

“But he’s, uh, he’s got Duck. He wouldn’t want a human, no matter how much we like each other.”

Indrid wordlessly moves to the bookshelves, smile widening as he finds a tome bound in blue leather and brings it back to the rug, “I found this when I was fetching books for him the other day.”

“Holy fuck” Barclay stares at the drawings, faded and labeled with draconic runes but undeniably that of a dragonborn fucking the living hells out of a very happy knight.

“I believe it tells the story of a knight who agrees to take a fair maiden's place as an offering and ends up enjoying his new station in life. It’s clearly been read often, though the anatomy is off in places.” He indicates a drawing in which it’s obvious the human doesn’t have balls to go with his enormous cock.

Barclay wants to say something witty, but all he can think about is gripping Joseph’s horns while he twines his tongue around Barclay’s cock.

“Yes, it’s giving me ideas too.” In the firelight, Indrid’s uncovered, brown eyes are almost red.

“Yeah?” Barclay sets a hand on his knee, “I’m no dragon but, uh-”

Indrid leans in, kissing him gently, “While dragons have their appeal, you are what I want right now.”

Barclay lets himself be pulled to the ground and is suddenly very glad dinner required so many dishes.

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

“I didn’t realize you’d be taking notes while you did this.” Indrid smiles, amused, as Joseph scribbles something at the top of a fresh page. They’re heading down the hall in Duck’s home, Indrid having agreed to be the subject of a very exciting day of research.

“I’m not. Not, not that I’m uninterested but, um, since I need to be able to observe everything, Duck will be the one actually fucking you.”

Indrid stops dead, heart fluttering in his chest, “He...is he just doing this as a favor to you?”

Joseph smiles, shakes his head, and Indrid understands that he was reading all the times Duck looked him over with those green eyes correctly.

They reach the bedroom and step across the threshold wearing twin expressions of confusion; Duck forgoes nesting in favor of a bed, but the mattress, a dozen blankets, and every pillow in the house are now on the floor, the dragon busily arranging and rearranging them. Then he sniffs the air and turns, pinning Indrid to the spot with a toothy grin.

“Why the nest?” Joseph drags a chair across the floor and positions it between the pillows and the fireplace.

“Dunno, ever since you told me that today was the day, I’ve had the itch to build one. Gotta make sure you’re comfortable, sweet thing.” Duck holds out his hand and Indrid reaches for it.

“Not yet. Indrid, please undress so I can make some notes.”

“You’re killin me here Joe.” Duck growls as Indrid moves towards the chair, peeling off layers until he’s naked. Joseph scribbles some notes. Indrid would feel like a scientific specimen were it not for the way the pupils in those blue eyes dilate each time he looks at him.

“I just need some measurements.” He pulls a ruler from the pocket of the notebook and kneels down, gingerly taking Indrid’s cock in his palm.

“I, I should mention that is generally frowned upon when it’s just humans.” Indrid squirms as hot breath skates up the sensitive skin.

“Humans are touchy about size.” Duck adds, settling his claws on Indrid’s hips from behind. He’s good foot and a half taller than the human, which always makes Indrid feels safe in his embrace; those have been more frequent these last few weeks, Indrid using the cold weather as an excuse to cuddle with the living furnace whose home he shares.

“Hmmm, if they have less genital variation than dragons, I could see how size would become the point of competition.”

“Variation?”

“Dragons got all kinds of set-ups” Duck grinds against Indrid’s ass, “Joe and I happen to have the same kind, where we can lay in someone and get, uh, laid in if we want.”

“Laying?” Indrid squeaks, “I, I’m not opposed but I’m not prepared either.”

“Nah, won’t do none of that today.” Duck blows hot breath down the back of his neck, “if you want, we can try some other time. Can even let Joe take notes. And if he’s good” Duck rests his chin atop Indrid’s head and looks down, “I’ll even save some for him.”

Joseph’s head snaps up, eyes wide, and for an instant Indrid expects to be sandwiched between two dragons, which sounds deliciously warm. Then Joseph collects himself, “Yes. I’d, um, I’d like that. But for now, I need one more measurement” his tongue flicks the air near the head of Indrid’s cock, “may I?”

“Please. Ohhhhhhhyes” He moans as Joseph licks his shaft, “that’s lovely, so veryOHgods” he bucks his hips as Duck digs his claws into the meat of his thighs.

“That’s very helpful, Duck, he’s getting wonderfully hard.”

“I aim to please. Now hurry up before I start fuckin him here and fuck up your data.”

“Just a second..there, done. Duck, please kneel, Indrid do the same but keep facing me.”

“Yessir.” Duck pulls them both to the floor. Claws spread his ass open and the tip of one pokes the base of the plug he put in earlier, “heh, you let Joe help you with this?”

“N-no” Indrid cranes his neck back for a kiss.

“I didn’t want to overstep.” Joseph replies matter-of-factly.

Indrid runs his mouth along Duck’s jaw, “next time I’ll make him warm me up with his tongue before putting it in.”

A moan from the chair as Duck rumbles, “good thinkin, he’s fuckin incredible with his tongue. But you better let me watch.”

“Of course.”

Fabric shifts behind him and then Duck’s wrap falls to the floor. The plug joins it and then a solid, ridged cock is teasing his cheeks.

“You ready, sweet thing?”

“Yes.” Indrid pushes his ass back, whines when only the first half-inch is pushed in.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get the whole thing. Just gotta go slow, don’t wanna hurt my mate.” Duck pauses, “huh, sorry, that just came out.”

“I don’t mind.” Indrid sets his hands on top of the dragon’s.

“Fascinating.” Joseph scribbles more notes.

“You like the idea of bein my mate?” The question is shy, Duck hiding his face in Indrid’s neck.

“So very much. You make me so happy, Duck, you take such good care of meEEEoh, oh I see.” He snickers as Duck thrusts shallowly and laps at his throat, “you like being a good mate, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Fuck yeah. Wanted to, to do this months ago, wanted, when they gave you to me I wanted to climb into bed with you, fuck you sweet and slow and tell you nothin was gonna hurt you now, that you were all mine, keep this cute little body safe under the covers. Under me.” He thrusts several inches at once and Indrid moans, bounces in his lap in search of more, Duck click-growling each time he pushes down.

“Please, please, I want it all, Duck, pleasepleaseAH, AHhnnnngods” he grabs Duck’s arms as they wrap around him, the dragon bottoming out with a groan.

“Holy shit.” Joseph stares at them, and Indrid follows his gaze down to his lower belly, where the outline of Duck’s cock is unmistakable.

“Oh I like that a great deal.” He whispers, biting his lip as the outline slowly moves.

“Me too. Fuck, fuckin love how small you are, you barely fit on my dick and you’re still beggin for it.”

“How could I not?” Indrid purrs, relaxing against Duck’s chest, “this is going to sound very silly, sweetheart, but please, please” he tips his head up to kiss Duck’s chin, “take me?”

A tender, deep purr, then “anythin’ you want, sugar.”

Indrid lets his mouth fall open, spilling moans across the floor as Duck fucks him with abandon. It’s so much, almost too much, but it’s all he wants, to be taken and cared for by the magnificent, loving creature behind him.

The stretch and drag of Duck inside him is so intense he barely registers his own orgasm, though he cums hard enough to splatter some on Joseph’s leg. Then he’s holding on and whimpering as Duck spills into him, hotter than a human and so plentiful it drips down his thighs before the dragon even pulls out.

“Got what you need?” Duck pants, still holding Indrid to him.

“Yes.” Joseph is purring, gaze drinking in the two of them.

“Good. C’mon, sweet thing, let’s do see how my nest holds up to me mating the fuck outta you.”

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

Duck said it was fine to use the glyph to come in without knocking, so that’s what Barclay does. He sets the cake he made in the kitchen, wanders down the hall in search of the others. They weren’t at Joseph’s, so odds are good they’re here. Muffled voices direct him towards the bedroom, but when he arrives his libido kicks all sensible thoughts from his mind.

There’s a giant mound of cushions on the floor, at the middle of which he can see Duck’s tail, the spines of his back and, occasionally, his head. Indrid’s feet and calves are just visible, so limp he’d worry he was asleep except for the little moans he knows quite well. And sitting by the fire, watching the scene with an obvious tent in his lap, is Joseph.

Two scales snouts snap up into the air. Duck notices him, whispers something to Indrid, who waves and then pulls the dragon back down. The same can not be said for Joseph, who is licking his lips like he’s just seen a gourmet meal.

Barclay smirks, moves to the chair but stays standing, stroking one horn as he does, “I’m not interrupting research, am I?”

“Um” Joseph’s cheeks go golden, “yes and no. I, I really was making notes at first but for the last hour it’s been, um, hard to focus.”

“Wonder why. Wait, holy fuck, they’ve been doing this for an hour?”

“One hour and twenty-four minutes.”

“Knew Indrid had stamina but that’s impressive. Uh” he trails a finger up Joseph’s leg, scales as smooth as he’d hoped, “how long have you been dealing with this?”

“Most of that time.” Joseph’s breath catches charmingly as Barclay straddles him.

“Babe” he kisses the warm column of his neck, stopping to pay special attention to each scar, “I know you’re dedicated to your work, but I’m pretty sure they’d let you join them.”

“I didn’t want to be rude.”

“My polite dragon” Barclay nuzzles his cheek, “you still deserve to be taken care of, you know that, right?”

Joseph nods, tips his head to the side so Barclay can nibble his throat while undoing his wrap. What he finds is spectacular; a pointed cock with circular ridges and, beneath it, a slit just begging for his tongue to tease it. But since he’s not done kissing him yet, he adjusts his balance so he can close one around the shaft and slide the fingers of the other into the slit.

The dragon makes a series of hurried clicks and growls, throwing his arms around him and kissing his face, “Barclay, you, you’re so wonderful, I never thought you’d want this, ohgoodgods.”

“I do, babe. I wanna know what my whip-smart, handsome dragon likes, wanna make you come apart” He squeezes lightly and Joseph growls.

“I did not wait this long to cum on you while you’re clothed.” Clawed hands grip his ass as Joseph stands and carries him to the nest on the floor, dropping him into it with uncharacteristic carelessness. Which he then remedies by methodically removing Barclays clothes and folding them into a pile.

“Mmmm, hello dearest.” Indrid turns his head to kiss him as Joseph rolls him to face the other two.

“Hey. Gotta say, you look really good like this.”

“Damn right he does.” Duck’s hips stutter and Indrid squirms happily, “heh, shoulda known Joe would pick that for you. He’s got a thing for thick thighs.”

“Huh? OH! Ohfuckyeah.” He moans as Joseph manhandles him to thrust his cock between his thighs. Teeth nip his neck as golden pre-cum streaks his skin. The scales of his cock rub wonderfully on the base of Barclays own, and soon he’s so hard he’s ready to promise Joseph anything he wants for the chance to cum.

Cool, human fingers encircle his shaft. Indrid grins, “I may not be able to move much, but Joseph seems to be more than capable of getting you to fuck my fist.”

Barclay dips his head forward with a groan to kiss his shoulder.

“You don’t gotta worry about movin’” Duck grunts, tongue darting out to Indrid’s cheek, “all you gotta do is lay here and take my cum like a good little mate whenever I say.”

“Yes, yes, oh goodness Duck please, take me, use meAHnnnnn” a whimper “so much.”

“Shhh, s’okay sweet thing, I’m almost done.”

Joseph purrs in his ear, “cum for me, big guy, cum for me while I coat your thighs and, gods, and Duck breeds your boyfriend into next week.”

“Fuuuuck.” Barclay spills helplessly into Indrid’s hand, holds tight to his shoulder and Joseph’s right arm as the dragon cums between his legs. There’s a muffled curse and an “eep” from beside him, then Duck rolls off Indrid and begins licking the humans cum from his stomach.

“I, I think you built a very sturdy nest.” Joseph curls his body around Barclay and drapes his tail over Indrid’s legs to brush Duck’s.

“Thanks, handsome.”

“I also think living with Indrid for months has made your mind assign him the position of partner, hence the nesting.”

“Makes sense.” Indrid murmurs.

“And--oh” Joseph sighs as Barclay kisses him.

“Promise you can share more theories later, babe. Right now, how about napping with your boyfriends?”

Joseph purrs deeper as they all cuddle closer, “I like the sound of that.”

#OT4: Government and their Cryptid Boyfriends #indrid cold/ duck newton #duck newton/agent stern #indrid cold/agent stern #agent stern/ barclay #sternclay #indruck #dragon au #terato

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ejzah · 4 years ago

Note

Could you do a serious version of the couples therapy fanfic?

A/N: I have struggled with what to do with this one for a very long time. I believe the original version had Kensi and Deeks undercover, but that just wasn’t working with this one. I also interpreted “couples therapy” a little loosely.

This takes place post Mother. Yes, there is a multitude of angst and mention of past traumatic experiences.

***

Deeks’ shoe tapped against the hardwood floor, beating out a fast paced rhythm that mirrored his current level of tension. Kensi’s hand rested on his lower back, soothing, but not entirely alleviating his anxiety.

It was about three weeks since he’d been trapped in that bomb-rigged building and laid his entire heart before Kensi, fully believing he was about to die. In the immediate aftermath they’d been giddy with relief, making ridiculous plans and imagining miniature versions of themselves.

Then the nightmares had started. Nearly every night since he’d woken up in some form of nightmare induced panic, certain she’d been killed or hurt. Sometimes the nightmares were pulled directly from real life, sometimes they were completely imagined, but no less horrifying.

Two nights ago he’d dreamed that Kensi was the one trapped with the bombs-the third nightmare in a row-only he didn’t get her out. He’d woken up screaming her name, fighting against her when she tried to comfort him.

As much as he hated the idea when Kensi hesitantly suggested finding a therapist the next morning, he’d readily agreed. He had a vague memory of hitting her in the midst of his confusion. Not hard, but enough to terrify him more than any nightmare ever could.

He glanced around the room, already having memorized the layout. It was a basic rectangular shape, accented with wooden shelves, a large desk, several armchairs, and the low chair he and Kensi were currently sitting on. The wooden floor was partially covered by a gray and white carpet with geometric designs. He kept tracing the pattern with his eyes in a futile attempt to calm his racing heart.

Kensi’s hand smoothed up his back and he let out a long sigh, leaning into her touch.

“Sweetie, you need to relax a little,” she said quietly, lifting her other hand to tuck some hair behind his ear.

“I’m trying,” he told her, blowing out a long breath as he rested his fore arms on his thighs and pressed his face into his cupped hands.

Normally he wouldn’t be this worked up about a therapy session, but this time around he needed to be completely honest. And he wasn’t looking forward to delving into the various traumas he’d purposely buried for years. “Thank you for being here,” he added, turning his head to glance back at Kensi.

“Where else would I be?” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his temple. “This is for both of us.”

Before he could respond, there was a quick knock on the door and a woman, maybe in her late 40’s with dark blonde hair walked in. Deeks immediately straightened up.

“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Deeks, I’m Dr. Melanie Dinan,” she greeted them.

“It’s just Deeks and Kensi. And thank you for meeting with us on such short notice,” Deeks said, reaching to shake her hand.

“Of course. Nate Getz is an old colleague and I’m always happy to help out a friend. I know how difficult it can be to find a therapist who isn’t linked with your agency.”

“We appreciate that,” Kensi said, reaching down for his hand. As he felt her fingers in his, slightly clammy and gripping so tightly his knuckles hurt, he realized she was just as nervous as he was.

“So tell me why you’re here today,” Dr. Dinan prompted, loosely folding her hands. “I understand you had a difficult experience during a recent case, Deeks.”

Huffing out a laugh, Deeks shook his head, keep his gaze downward.

“The last several years have been filled with a lot of difficult experiences.” He realized his sounded unnecessarily antagonistic and forced himself to breath out slowly again. “But, uh, yeah there was a recent case that kind of brought a lot of those memories to the surface again.”

Dr. Dinan regarded him with a neutral expression.

“How do those memories manifest?”

“Nightmares, anxiety,” he answered, hesitating before he added, “occasionally mild panic attacks.” Beside him he felt Kensi tense and he closed his briefly, knowing they would need to talk that last one later on. He swallowed harshly, trying to control his voice as he spoke. “The last few years they’ve been a lot less frequent, not as real. In the last couple weeks, ever since that case, um, I’ve had one almost every night and they’re really vivid.”

“Can you tell me what those dreams involve? Are they violent, directed towards yourself?” Dr. Dinan asked. Deeks recalled his most recent nightmare, one where he and Kensi were stuck in the ocean, and held back a shudder. He watched in horror as she slipped into the dark, freezing whatever, unable to do anything to help her.

“Um, usually they’re pretty violent,” he confirmed. “Sometimes it’s things that have happened to me, but most of the time they, uh,” his voice broke as his a series of images began to assault him and he felt his chest start to tighten. Kensi’s hand moved to his back again, moving in small circles as she spoke quietly in his ear.

“It’s ok, baby,” she murmured. “Just take a deep breath.” He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, listening to Kensi’s voice until some of the tightness eased and he didn’t feel like he was going to pass out as much.

When he opened his eyes, Dr. Dinan was standing had stood up, but hadn’t moved closer. He appreciated the space.

“Are you alright, Mr. Deeks? I can have Cynthia bring you a drink and take a few minutes-“

“No, it’s fine,” he insisted, wanting to get through this as quickly as he could. “Last night I dreamed that these guys that once tortured me had Kensi and they were drilling holes in her mouth instead of me. Sometimes it’s worse.” Kensi didn’t react other than to hold him tighter and he didn’t check to see Dr. Dinan’s expression.

“Each day I’m more terrified that something like that will actually happen and I won’t be able to stop it. It makes me a liability in the field and a poor partner to Kensi.” He looked up, addressing her finally. “Doctor, can you help stop this or at least control it better than I currently am?”

She nodded gravely.

“I appreciate how difficult that was for you to share with me. I believe I can help you. It won’t be easy or a quick fix, but with consistent therapy and the clear support from your wife, you should alleviate some of those symptoms.”

Kensi and Deeks walked out of Dr. Dinan’s office 40 minutes later. He was exhausted and a little shaky.

“Are you ok?” she asked. She’d quietly sat behind him the entires session, offering support but never pushing.

“Honestly, I feel like never coming back,” he said climbing into the car and letting his head fall back against the passenger seat headrest. Kensi didn’t say anything, didn’t protest that he needed to do this, and he was overwhelmed once again by how much he loved her. “But I will. I don’t want to live like this anymore.

Kensi’s eyes filled with tears as she leaned across the console. She cupped the back of his head and kissed him softly.

“I am so proud of you, Marty Deeks,” she whispered fiercely. “I love you more than anything. And I will be by your side through every step of this, no matter what.”

***

A/N: Just in case any body has any doubts, I have absolutely no counseling experience. I did the best research I could, but I know this is still probably riddled with inaccuracies

Thanks for the prompt!

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #densi #post mother #angst #therapy #ptsd #anonymous prompt #ejzah fanfiction

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skullrock · 5 years ago

Text

the confessions - Steve x Reader

gif by @harringtown

pairing: Steve x Reader

request: hey! can u write a fic where steve and reader go to a party and reader gets shitfaced but steve stays sober and she’s pretty much hitting on him the entire night cause the alcohol gave her courage, and when steve takes her home she’s like super handsy with him and saying sweet things to him (also saying suggestive themes things to him that makes him go 😳) and steve’s super sad cause he loves her and thinks it’s drunk talk. but its not!! so they talk about it the next day. thank you

warnings: swearin’ and angst! some suggestive content if ya squint

word count: 2k

===

Steve watched as you downed shot after shot, regret running through him with each glass of vodka. He brought you here to have fun - he didn’t anticipate having to babysit you. He knew you were stressed, but he didn’t know you were this stressed. As he watched you head for the punch bowl again, he went to intervene.

“Hey!” you sing, happy to see him. You throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for an awkward hug. “What’s up, buddy!”

“I think you need to go home,” he says, pulling away from you gently. His stomach flipped every time you touched him, but he wanted to swallow those feelings. You were his friend, after all. Nothing more and nothing less.

“Me?” you ask, pointing to yourself. “You think… I think you need to go home!”

“Okay,” he says smoothly. “Let’s go home together, what about that?”

You gasp and throw a hand up to your heart. “Why, Mister Harrington, are you inviting me to your house?”

Steve’s cheeks turn red, but he attempts to act unfazed. “No, I’m taking you to your house, okay?” He gently takes your cup from you and puts his arm around your waist to support you as he took you to his car.

The thing is, you had drank so much because you wanted to hit on him. You needed that extra courage to get you to actually make a move. Did you overdo it? Yes. Did the alcohol work? Also yes. Maybe it worked a little too well.

When you step outside, you pull Steve into you, pressing into his chest. “You look so good tonight, Stevie, you know that?”

Steve’s ears turn pink. “Since when do you call me that?” he asks, gently pushing you away from him.

“Do you like it?” you ask. “It’s cute, like you.”

“Okay,” Steve says, clearing his throat. “Um, thanks.”

“Do I look cute?” you ask, leaning on him heavily as he continues to guide you to his car.

“You always look cute.”

You gasp. “You mean it?”

Steve’s heart twists painfully. “Of course I mean it.”

As he sits you in the passenger seat and leans over to buckle you up, you wrap your fingers in his hair. Steve’s cheeks turn red-hot and he pulls back, a moan escaping his lips as your fingers tug in his hair. He takes your hands and takes a deep breath. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Vodka,” you smile, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Keep your hands to yourself during the ride, okay?” he jokes, and you pout.

“But what if I don’t want to keep them to myself?”

“Those are the rules of the ride,” Steve says, clicking his tongue sympathetically. “You have to follow them.”

“You’re such a dork,” you say, reaching out for him again, but he moves before your fingertips can touch him.

Steve shuts the door and shakes his head, mumbling, “Jesus Christ,” before climbing into the front seat. “You okay, Y/N?”

You nod and look over at him, sending a wink that sent a chill down his spine. Focus, Steve, he thinks to himself, white-knuckling the steering wheel as he starts for your house. Steve turns on the radio - Can’t Fight this Feeling comes on. The tension in the car while the song is playing can be cut with a knife. You sit and play with your skirt, slowly moving it up your thighs in an attempt to entice Steve. Steve sees in his peripheral, but keeps his eyes on the road in an attempt to not crash the car in a fit of passion.

Steve gets pulled into his own thoughts as he drives. He’s loved you for a while now - totally, completely loved you. Every day brought more adoration, and it was getting to be a bit painful. You’d never let on any signs that you were into him until tonight. The whole thing was confusing and heartbreaking. You probably thought he was someone else. Someone cooler, more charming, more handsome. You could never say this stuff to him sober, which solidified his theory that you weren’t into him at all.

He pulls into your driveway and climbs out, sighing as he heads over to your side. When he tries to help you out, you offer him your foot first.

“Wrong end,” he says.

“Oops!” You hand him your hand and he pulls you up, steadying you as you stumble into his chest again. You look up at him with big eyes. To you, they’re full of love; to him, they’re full of shit.

“How do we keep ending up like this?” you slur.

“Because you’re drunk,” Steve breathes, forcing himself not to lean down and kiss you.

“Maybe you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk, Y/N.”

“Oh.”

Steve laughs a bit and keeps guiding you to your door and into your bedroom. He sits you on your bed and starts going through your wardrobe to find you some pajamas. When he turns around, you’re up and naked, making Steve drop the clothes and cover his eyes.

“Uh - hey - what are you doing?”

“Changing,” you respond, walking over to where he dropped the clothes. You pick them up and start putting them on, allowing Steve to relax.

“Don’t be such a prude, Steve,” you say, shrugging on your sweater. “It’s not like you’ve never seen a naked girl before.”

“But you’re my friend,” Steve says. “That’s not the same.”

“What if I don’t want to be friends?”

Steve’s hand drops to his side, revealing a fully clothed you. Your eyes look serious, and you look shy. Steve’s brows furrow. “You know who I am, right?”

“I know who you are, Steve.”

Steve’s stuck. He’s not sure if you’re just shitting him or if you’re serious. It’s hard to tell when you’re slurring and hunched over like Quasimodo, hardly able to walk. He bites his lip and your eyes train on how perfect he is, how beautiful he looks as the moon comes through your window. He takes a step towards you, and you think that maybe he’s going to embrace you like the lovers do in movies. But instead, he guides you to the bed, tucking you under the covers.

“I’m going to get you some water and pain pills, okay?” he says. “You’re going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow.” You’re probably going to forget all of this, too, he thinks.

You nod and he gets water and medicine from your kitchen, bringing it back to you quietly. He sits it on the nightstand. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Come here,” you beckon, sitting up out of the carefully tucked sheets. Steve blinks as you undo his gentle tucking, but he sits down beside you. You grab his hand and look at it carefully, closely. Then you grab the other one.

“You reading my fortune, or something?” Steve jokes, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

“You have nice hands,” you mumble. You look up at his face and run a hand gently down one of his cheeks. “You have a pretty face, too.”

Steve decides to indulge himself, just a bit. “What else do I have?”

“You have nice arms,” you continue, running your hands up them, feeling Steve’s flesh become riddled with goosebumps. “So strong and toned.” You move your hands to his chest. “Nice broad chest. Nice shoulders.”

Steve shifts nervously, swallowing hard as your hands ghost down his shirt, going dangerously close to his belt. Your hands take a detour to his sides, though, gripping his hips gently. “Such nice hips, too.”

“Hips?” he laughs. “Is that something girls look for?”

“They just fit you so perfectly,” you say quietly. Your hands then move to his thighs and you lick your lips. “Your thighs are nice too, Steve.” You squeeze them and smile. “So is your ass.”

Steve blushes but rolls his eyes. “My ass is not nice.”

You shrug, bringing your hands up to his shoulders to rest. “I like it.”

He swallows again. “Do you like anything else?”

“I like your laugh. It’s always so pretty,” you whisper. “It makes me happy. So does your smile. And your eyes are always so warm, even when you’re mad.”

Steve realizes how closely you both are leaning in, so he pulls back slightly. “You’re full of compliments when you’re drunk, huh?”

You frown, letting your hands fall into your lap. “Guess I am.”

Steve clears his throat. “I guess - while we’re on the subject - I should tell you that I think you’re very pretty.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he says with a slight shrug. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Prettier than Nancy?”

Steve feels the sadness envelop him, crashing over him like a wave. To be sitting in front of a person so beautiful while being reminded of his shit luck - it’s a lot to handle. But he forces out, “Prettier than Nancy.”

You seem pleased, laying down again and beckoning him to cover you. Steve’s throat feels wickedly painful, and he pushes his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stop himself from crying. He ruffles your hair and whispers, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Won’t you stay?”

Steve laughs a bit. “I have work in the morning.”

“With Keith?”

“Yeah, with Keith.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah, pretty gross,” he agrees. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Tomorrow,” you repeat, and you fall asleep soon after, leaving Steve with his thoughts as he heads to his car.

===

Tomorrow comes, and you’re painfully aware of how much you had to drink last night. You groan and sit up to find the painkillers and water Steve had left.

“Oh, thank God,” you whisper, taking them swiftly and laying back down. You hug one of your pillows and attempt to go back to sleep before last night comes back to you at lightning speed. How much you drank so that you’d have the courage to talk to him; how you put your hands in his hair; how you kept touching him; how you undressed right in front of him; and then everything you said. Embarrassment grips you tightly, making you groan and bury your head in your pillow. You hop up quickly, though, staggering to the phone and phonebook.

===

Steve stops stacking tapes to get the phone, droning out, “Thanks for calling Family Video, this is Steve, how can I help you?”

“Steve!”

Steve gasps and almost drops the phone. “Y/N?” he hisses. “What - are you okay?”

“I gotta talk to you about last night,” you say. “Can we talk?”

Steve looks around for Keith. “I’m - I’m at work.”

“I have to tell you something and it can’t wait.”

Steve looks around again and sighs, taking the phone with him into the break room and shutting the door on the cable. “Okay, what’s up?”

“Last night, I got super shitfaced.”

“I’m aware.”

“Well, I got so drunk because I wanted to talk to you - like, tell you how I feel -”

Steve’s breath hitches and his heart speeds up. “About what?”

You take a deep breath. It’s now or never. “Steve, I love you.”

Steve almost drops the phone again.

“Bullshit,” he breathes. “You can’t -”

“I do, Steve,” you say. “I love you, and I know I do.”

There’s a quick, loud knock on the door. “Uh, what’s going on in there?”

Steve jerks the door open, holding the phone tightly to his chest. “Keith, I swear to Christ, if you ruin this moment for me, I’m going to shove a VHS right up your -”

“Steve!” you gasp on the phone.

Steve slams the door shut again and puts the phone up to his ear. “You’re not gonna believe this, but I love you, too.”

You beam brightly. “You mean it?”

“I never thought you’d say that to me,” Steve says softly. “But I’ve loved you for so long.”

“I’ve loved you for a long time, too.”

Steve smiles brightly, feeling like a new man as happiness replaces the sadness and emptiness in his chest.

Keith knocks on the door again. “Harrington, you better get out here -”

“Shut up, Keith!” Steve shouts. “I guess I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Come over after work, will you?”

“I will,” Steve promises. “God, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

===

taglist (join here!): @harrington-ofhawkins @comedy-witch @gothackedalready @wolfish-willow @sassisaluxury @willowrose99 @harringtown @m-blasterrr @whimsicalwoodlands @anerroroccurrrrred @marvels-gurl @the-almond-dinger @ssanjuniperoo @darth-el @sourapplebaby @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @andyl394 @astil-be @troop-scoop @ilovebucketbarnes @mybestfriendthedingus @unknownherelm @metuel18 @magnitude101999 @simplesammyx @lukeskisses

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington oneshot #q

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juniorgman187 · 5 years ago

Text

Bratty (Spencer Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reid must supervise Camille, who makes Reid’s job anything but easy for him.

Category: Soft angst Couple: OCFem!Reader x Spencer Reid Word Count: 2.6k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“You’re being ridiculous.” Camille huffed.

“No - what I’m being is a good uncle.” Cruz retorted while handing Camille a jacket.

“It’s literally midnight!”

“Exactly. I’m not leaving you alone this late at night.”

“You’re seriously gonna make me go all the way to Quantico with you right now?”

“I won’t be able to leave work after I’m there. If you come with me, I can work and take care of you.” He explained.

“I’m an adult! I can take care of myself.”

Cruz completely dismisses this. “I already told JJ that you’re coming. She’s excited to see you again. You can meet the whole team, too.”

“If I go, will you please stop acting like I’m a child?”

“I can’t make any promises.” He shrugs.

Camille groans in mild frustration as she reluctantly readies herself to leave with her uncle for Quantico.

As soon as Camille enters the BAU, she’s showered with love from JJ.

“Hey, you! How are you holding up?”

“Well right now, I’m really wishing I didn’t give Uncle Matt a key to my apartment.” Camille quips.

“Yeah, maybe when he’s distracted I’ll grab his keys and remove yours.”

JJ’s joke makes Camille smile. JJ winks at Camille before turning away to talk to Matt.

“How’s Elena?” Elena is Camille’s mother and Matt’s sister.

“Reception’s shoddy where she is, but when I drove her to the airport, she couldn’t be more excited. She’s always wanted to travel to an underdeveloped country and teach English as a second language. That’s why it wasn’t even a question if I would take care of Camille while she was away.”

“Good for her. I guess it runs in your blood to want to help people, huh?”

“No,no she’s more selfless than me. I can tell you that. She’s so patient with her students. Probably developed that skill when she had Camille. I love her to death, but kid’s feisty. Just like her mom when she was her age.”

JJ grimaces in preparation for a hard question she feels obligated to ask. “You know, it’s none of my business, but what’s Camille - 21, 22?”

“21.”

“I know you told Elena you’d watch her, but helicopter parenting her like she’s a teenager isn’t the way.”

“Forgive me if I’m not comfortable leaving her alone with a serial killer on the loose.”

This statement alone is enough to shut JJ down. On a lighter note, the team greets Camille.

“Welcome. I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner.”

“Camille de la Vega. Nice to finally meet you.”

“You’ve met JJ. This is Agents Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, and David Rossi. She’s our technical analyst - Penelope Garcia. And this is Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Camille goes down the line shaking everyone’s hands, but then she reaches Reid.

“A doctor in the FBI?”

He corrects her instantaneously. “Not M.D. PHD. Three of them actually. Chemistry, mathematics, and engineering.”

“Good to know.” She nods.

Camille extends her hand to shake his and everyone notices that he obliges.

“Hey, Reid what’s with the handshake? I thought it was safer to kiss.” Morgan teases.

Camille shyly laughs.

“Yeah, why the exception, kid?”

“Don’t listen to them.” Reid timidly tells Camille, making her grin from ear to ear. She’s already taken a particular liking to him. And from the looks of it, he’s done just the same.

“Although I’d love to catch up with you, Camille, we have to start working immediately. Anderson will show you to your uncle’s office.” Hotch gestures towards Anderson who’s waiting in the doorway to lead Camille out of the round table room.

. . .

Notably, the clock reads 4:10 a.m. Camille is reading a book at her uncle’s desk, when there’s a knock at the door. It’s Spencer.

“Oh, hi. Did you need to grab something from his desk? I can move if you need me to.” She politely offers.

“No, no I actually came to bring you food. I thought you might be hungry.”

Camille thanks him and accepts the paper bag of food.

Reid notices she’s reading a book. “What are you reading?”

“Little Women.” Camille says, flashing the cover.

“Have you read it before?”

“Mhm. It’s one of my favorites. Have you?”

“My mom read it to me when I was younger.”

Camille sees an opportunity to mess with him and takes it. “Wasn’t it crazy how Laurie set the March house on fire and all of them died?”

Spencer furrows his brows in confusion.

“I, um, I don’t remember that part.”

Camille immediately registers Reid’s discomfort. “I was just messing with you.”

“Oh.” Spencer nods and forces a laugh. “I should, um, probably get back. Do you want anything before I go? Coffee, water, maybe?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

“Alright, I’ll be back to check on you.” Reid scrunches his lips into a small smile before closing the door behind him.

As he makes his way back to the round table, he smiles so widely, that when Morgan passes him, he notices.

“Stop it right there, Pretty Boy.”

Reid stops in his tracks.

“Now turn around.”

Reid obeys.

“Why do you look like a kid in a candy shop right now? What did I miss?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

For someone that studies behavior, he’s not too good at lying. Morgan sees right through Reid.

“Come on, man. You can tell me.”

Penelope passes by.

“Tell him what? Whatcha hiding, Boy Wonder?”

“Nothing. I’m not hiding anything.”

Morgan and Garcia look at him with skepticism.

“Did you hear how his voice did that thing? His voice only gets that high when he’s lying.” Garcia notes.

Reid clears his throat to deliberately speak in a lower pitch. “No it doesn’t.”

Garcia squints her eyes at him. “What do you not want us to know?”

“Guys, seriously. It’s nothing.”

“Is this about Cruz’s niece?” Morgan asks, hitting the nail on the head.

“Ooh, I knew something was fishy when you shook her hand.”

“It was just a handshake, okay?”

“Well, excuse me, but I’m having a hard time believing you.” Morgan cleverly retorts.

“I don’t like her. If that’s what you’re implying.”

Morgan smirks. “Oh is that so? Then riddle me this Pretty Boy - where were you just now?”

Reid loosens his tie, feeling like it’s a noose.

“Oh did you see that? His body language is speaking for itself. And it’s saying A LOT.” Garcia giggles.

“Go get em, tiger.” Morgan leaves Reid to his devices with a pat on his shoulder.

“Shut up.”

. . .

No longer reading, Camille is scanning her uncle’s shelves - looking at the pictures and the books, and opening and closing different cabinets or drawers in his desk. A knock on the door startles her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just checking in. How are you?”

She frowns. “Incredibly bored. I finished my book like thirty minutes ago.”

Reid checks his watch.

“How long was I gone?”

A small laugh leaves her lips. “I was basically at the end when you left.”

Reid’s lips shift to one side of his face as he thinks of something to help Camille out. “Um, I - I have newspapers. With, with crosswords on them. I can bring them to you.”

Reid rushes out of the room and comes back awfully quickly with a stack of newspapers. Camille laughs delightfully at the sight of them.

“These are scans of ones I’ve already solved.”

“You’ve solved all of these? What are you? Some kind of genius?”

“I don’t believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified. But I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute.”

Camille is in awe.

“Uh, yes, I’m a genius.”

“So what I’m hearing is, if I get stuck on a word, I could just ask you and you’d remember what the right answer was?”

“Kind of takes the fun out of solving it yourself, don’t you think?”

“Not if it means I get to see you again.”

Reid laughs uncomfortably. “Uh, so how will I know if you need help?”

“I’ll text you.”

“You don’t have my - Oh got it.”

Camille makes a face and hands him her phone to take. He makes a contact for himself and hands her back the phone.

“Great. See you in an hour, Laurie.”

Reid’s caught off guard.

“If I’m Laurie, are you Jo or Amy?”

“Well that depends. Am I the best friend or the love interest?”

Reid raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“I resonate more with Amy - if that’s what you were asking. I’m young and driven - like her.”

“I always thought Amy to be sort of a brat.”

"She knows what she wants. So do I.”

“Oh yeah? And what do you want?” This is a newfound display of confidence coming from the Doctor. It catches her by surprise.

Camille doesn’t play into it, just to tease him. “What I want is for you and your team to catch this guy, so I can go home.”

“I should, uh, I should go back now. See you in an hour.”

“Looking forward to it.” She says sarcastically.

. . .

Reid is working on the geographical profile when he feels his phone buzz. Without even needing to see it, he knows it’s Camille.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: You’re late for your check in, Doctor.

Reid looks at his watch. He’s only three minutes late.

REID: Sorry, I’m busy. And you’re only supposed to text when you have a question. That wasn’t a question.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Fine, here's a question - when are you gonna make your hourly check in?

REID: A question pertaining to the crossword.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Los Angeles Times. 64 down. Clue is “Dr. Reid is late for his check in. When should he be expected?”

REID: The ‘Amy’ in you is showing.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: The brat part of her or the love interest part of her?

REID: Former.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: It’s fine. I can wait. Nowhere else I have to be anyway.

REID: I’ll be there when I’m done.

. . .

Reid is walking through the hall and entering Cruz’s office. Camille works diligently on the crossword.

“Not so fast. You have to stop by the main office and get a tardy slip.” She quips.

“Funny. How’s the crossword?”

“I’ve finished two of them since you’ve been gone.”

Reid glances at his watch. “That doesn’t make any sense. The average time to finish a puzzle is 21 minutes. I’ve been gone for 88.”

"I got distracted.”

“Really? By what?”

Camille fights a smirk. “A little birdie who stopped by.”

Reid shakes his head and exasperates. He needn’t know more to figure out what she meant by this.

"Which one - Garcia or Morgan?”

"Does it matter?”

"What’d they say?”

"Enough.”

"Enough to?”

Camille gets up from the chair and walks around to the front of the desk. This places her right in front of Reid. This is the closest they’ve been yet.

"Enough to let me know whether I’m the best friend or the love interest.”

Camille draws back and grabs her coat from off the chair. She puts it on.

"So who are you? Jo or Amy?”

"Don’t play coy. You know the answer. You are a genius after all.”

Camille grabs her purse off the desk and begins to leave the office.

“Where are you going? I thought you were supposed to leave?”

Camille exits the office and begins to walk into the hallway toward the elevator. The worried doctor follows close behind.

"I’m going for a walk to a cafe. No offense, but I’m not a huge fan of the coffee you’ve got here. Plus, I could use the fresh air.”

"You shouldn’t leave. Especially not alone.”

"Not you, too. Come on. You know I’m not a target. From what I saw in your little conference room, all the victims are blonde. And unless I bleach my hair between here and the time I reach the sidewalk, I think I’ll be okay.”

"Are you at least going to let your Uncle know where you’re going?”

She shoots him a deadpan stare. “What would be the fun in that?”

Camille presses the button near the elevator.

"Anderson can order coffee for you. He’ll bring it back here so you don’t have to leave.” Reid suggests.

"Mmm, no thanks. I’m a big girl.”

The elevator door opens.

“Are you sure about that? Because right now you’re acting like a -”

He hesitates. Camille steps into the elevator and turns on her heels so she can face him before the doors close.

She provokes him. "Say it.”

"You’re acting like a brat!”

"Oh I’m sorry - is my ‘Amy’ showing, Dr. Reid? Well, I am your love interest after all - Laurie.”

Camille winks and the doors close. Reid lets out a frustrated sigh and shakes his head and he begins to jog to the stairwell. With speed and caution he only exhibits when trying to apprehend an unsub, he flies down the stairs. His slender figure can’t support this kind of cardio, but nonetheless, he runs.

When he finds himself in the parking garage, just beside the elevator, he sees Camille several feet away, walking out of the structure completely. He runs as fast as his feet can take him. Eventually he reaches her before she’s on the main sidewalk.

"Camille, wait!”

He’s breathless and red. Camille walks back over to him with a devilish grin.

"Did you actually just run all the way here?”

"What gave me away?”

This earns a hearty laugh from Camille.

"I’m coming with you.” He breathlessly explains.

"Why didn’t you say so earlier? Would’ve saved you the marathon.”

"Yeah, yeah, be quiet.”

“Swallow your pride. Occasionally, it’s not fattening.”

“Frank Tyger. Touché.”

She’s even more impressed at his knowledge of the quote she recited. This makes her more keen to starting an actual dialogue with him instead of just provoking him.

“So why’d they leave you behind?” She asks.

“They didn’t leave me behind. I just choose not to go. I’m notorious for being prone to gunshot wounds, so I choose to stay where I know I’ll be safe. What about you? Why’d Cruz bring you to the office?”

"For the same reason you stayed back. He wants me somewhere I’ll be safe.”

"You’re a little old for a babysitter, don’t you think?”

“You would think, but Uncle Matt has this gift where every time he looks at me, he still sees his helpless 8 year old niece.”

“What happened when you were 8?”

Camille doesn’t even realize what she might’ve accidentally revealed. “Freudian slip. Nothing you need to worry about.”

"You sure?”

“All you need to know is that what happened to me motivated him to work in the field. Ever since then he’s been working to get to the top.”

"So how old are you anyway, little woman?”

"Oh, is that my nickname now? An outright juxtaposition of “big girl” and a reference to the book?”

"Mhm.”

"21.”

"Wow, you really are a little woman.”

"Better than being an old man.”

“Old man? I’m 32.”

"My point exactly.”

"You’re welcome by the way. For doing this.” He adds.

"Oh please, I didn’t ask you to walk me to the cafe.”

“But you wanted me to.”

"Oh wow, you know about reverse psychology. Congrats you’re with the other 98% of the population that does too. Don’t act like you’re doing me a favor. You wouldn’t have followed me if you didn’t want to come.”

"What I want is for you to be safe.”

"Like I said before, I don’t fit the victimology. He has a type and it’s not me. I’m fine going by myself.”

"You know something? You’re really stubborn. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Aww, I’m so hurt. Boo hoo.” She sarcastically remarks.

“You think you can be just a little bit nicer to me? I am babysitting you after all.”

Camille halts.

“I’m gonna ignore the babysitting part, but yes, I can be nice, but right now, I’ve spent 6 hours cooped up in my uncle’s office bored out of my mind.”

"So what? You’re only toying with me because you’re bored and I’m your only entertainment?”

“Oh congrats! You finally figured it out, genius.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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alistair-blackwood · 4 years ago

Text

MoMM Chapter 3: The Empty Corridors (Preview #2)

(Note: this is not the finalized draft; anything featured is subject to edits or deletion!)

Chapter 3: The Empty Corridors (Preview #1)

Martin snapped up straight, the book nearly tumbling out of his hands, but Jon didn’t seem to notice him at all. His eyes were cast down on the dinner tray as he glided right past Martin and his spot on the lounger.

Bollocks. What did Martin do now? It was one thing for Jon to notice him as he came walking down the hallway and for Martin to strike up a conversation; it was another to shout at him, clamouring for his attention like a child.

Jon was almost out of the foyer. Now or never.

“Jon?”

Jon yelped, the tray jumping in his hands, and Martin covered his mouth, face warming. The cavernous space of the foyer made everything seem louder– his voice had sounded like a crack whip.

“Sorry, sorry, I just, um, uh …” Dammit, what should he say? Nearly two hours of fake-reading a book and he hadn’t thought up something clever and interesting to say in the meantime?

Recovering from his fright, Jon straightened. “Is there any particular reason you’re out here?”

It was so much harder to hear that chill in Jon’s voice when Martin knew what it sounded like soft and gently amused. “Just, you know–” he weakly held up his book “–getting some reading done.”

Jon’s eyes flicked from the book, then back to Martin. “I see. In any case, I have your meal prepared. Would you prefer to eat it here?”

“Oh, uh, yes. Thank you.”

Strolling over, Jon placed the tray on the small table. Martin waited for him to inquire about the book (“–I see you’re almost finished with Kinsey, what do you think?” “Oh! It’s really good, thank you so much for recommending it to me! Would you like to take a seat and maybe we could talk about it some more?” “Yes, Martin, that sounds lovely, tell me what you thought about chapter 3, personally I felt that–”)

But Jon straightened. Turned back towards the hallway. “I hope it’s to your–”

“Wait, wait.”

Jon paused, and Martin yanked back the hand he’d thrown out. Still too loud. He couldn’t just let Jon walk away, though, not without … something. “I-I was thinking, actually, that, uh,” he glanced down at the tray, “that you don’t have to keep bringing me food.”

“Pardon?”

“Yeah! I mean, well, I’m feeling much better. Definitely all patched up by now, and I know my way around the kitchen and everything. So, yeah, you don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“I … see.” A soft flush dusted Jon’s face. “My apologies. I tried to make something more palatable–”

“Oh! No, no, it’s not that at all. I just …”

But Jon’s expression had cooled once more, and the words curdled in Martin’s throat. “I will of course abide by your preference. If you’ll excuse me …”

“Wait.”

Jon whirled around, eyebrows flying up, and Martin could have cried from the mortification of it all. How was he still so loud? “Do you want to read together, sometime? I-I started Kinsey and I think you’re right about his writing style and I was– I was wondering if you wanted to talk about it …”

He trailed off under Jon's unblinking stare and forced down the rest. Is this what an ant felt like trapped under a glass panel? But then, Jon's eyes, with a curious light, flitted to the stack of books. Martin's stomach lifted with hope–

But Jon held up a hand. “Please, you don’t need to worry about me. Carry on.”

He left the foyer, footsteps clicking on the tiled floors before fading.

Martin sighed, long and draining, his shoulders sagging. His eyes dropped to the dinner tray– a sauté today. Jon’s been getting really creative these last few days. The tea looked to be Earl Grey. The vibrant flavours tickled his nose, eliciting a low growl from the pits of his stomach.

He’d best savour it, he thought, taking a small sip of his tea.

Okay, so. Jon wanted to be alone. Martin had known that already; frankly, it was a little embarrassing he hadn't backed off before now. Jon didn't owe him his company just because he had no real choice but to board Martin in his home– not unless he wanted to throw Martin out into the blizzard. Besides, Martin had plenty to entertain himself, anyway, things that didn’t include bothering Jon.

It wasn’t long before it became obvious, though, that that wasn’t really true.

“You know, I think I’m really starting to miss working in the castle.”

Phillipa looked on from across the aisle as Martin speared a patch of clean hay into the trough. It had been such a relief when he’d learned that the feeding hay Jon had on reserve was normal and not some freaky collection of worms or something. Phillipa was much luckier than him in this regard.

“Yeah, working there was stressful,” he continued, wiping a hand across his sweaty face, “God knows with the way Griffiths shouted at us all the time. But at least I was doing something, you know? Keeping my hands busy.”

As Phillipa grazed, Martin leaned against the stall door, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, sure, it was mostly grunt work. Anyone could have done it, but I did it, you know? I was at least making someone’s day a little bit easier. I wasn’t …”

The words caught in his throat, and he swallowed them back down. Blast it. He really needed to move on, already.

“I just wish I knew if he was angry with me,” he murmured. “Then I could apologise, right? Make it up to him somehow?”

Phillipa butted his shoulder with the brunt of her nose, and he startled before settling back down. He reached up to pat her nose, running his thumb over the white strip pattern of her face.

"I suppose I can just make my own work. Roll up my sleeves, do a little dusting, maybe? Pluck some weeds? I mean, it's only fair. Not like I'm paying rent or anything. My mum always said idle hands were the devil's playground or something."

And then, maybe, Jon could see Martin could be helpful. Useful.

And then maybe they could talk again.

He just wished that they could talk …

He glanced over to Phillipa. “What do you think?”

She lipped at the wisps of his hair, and he sighed. He felt a bit better now, though. He had met few conversational partners as willing to put up with him as Phillipa. He should probably start getting inside now, though– didn’t want to risk an encounter with John, the dog.

A sudden, sharp pain exploded in his ear and he cried out, jumping back. Phillipa had nibbled on the soft bit of his ear.

“You-” he started, cradling his sore ear. Phillipa lifted her head with him, continuing to chew, content– probably on a bit of his ear. “You’re a very naughty horse, do you know that?”

She snorted in his face.

It was decided, then; he’d do a little tidying up in Jon’s greenhouse. Pluck some weeds, clear the pathways of debris, or however else he could make busy. It was certainly the easier task than dusting, anyway– his sinuses wouldn’t stand for it, not without any supplies.

Besides, Jon harvested the vegetables roughly every two or three days, so it might make for a nice surprise, coming in to see the space neat and orderly. After all, nothing cheered Martin up like a little spring cleaning.

He’d found an old cloth and broom in the kitchen cupboard and, after lunch, he ventured into the storm. The winds pummelled his side and he dug his feet into the cobblestone when a strong gust buffeted his side. He knew it’d be a trek, obviously, but he’d no idea it would be this brutal. The wind cut through the fabric of his cloak and, even though the walk was short, by the time he closed the panelled door behind him, his body shook with fierce tremors, his fingers and the tips of his ears burning.

Rubbing some warmth back into his extremities, he hung his cloak and took hold of the broom’s handle. May as well get the easy bit out of the way. He’d always liked sweeping– it was easier than polishing or mopping, at least. Less back strain.

Dirt and dead leaves littered the path, likely from the freaky vegetable patch, and he swept it all into a tight pile on the dustpan. Easy and quick to complete, yes, but, as Martin surveyed the clean floors, he let himself savour the pinprick of pride. It was nice to be working again. At least he was making a difference, even if it was a little one.

Now, the plots.

Rolling up his sleeves, he settled down by the plot closest to him, crouching on the cold floor. It had been ages since anything had been planted here, the dry and dusty soil crusting under his fingernails as he plucked out twigs and cracked roots. As he stood to move to the second plot, a jolt shot through his knees and weeks.

Two weeks of a comfortable bed and skipping out on proper hard work and he’d already gone soft. Not good. He’d need to build back up his stamina.

The second plot took even less time than the first. He settled back on his haunches, dusting off hands. This wasn’t taking as long as he thought it would, but that made sense. The only plot that needed any real tending to was the one with the dead rose bushes, but with the way Jon reacted when Martin had seen them, it didn’t seem right to weed them without his permission. Maybe Martin could ask–

A loud slam. Martin jumped, whirling around.

Jon leaned against the entryway door, eyes closed, letting out a slow, relieved breath. Snow clung to his cloak and dappled the curls of his hair. Martin's heart thrummed with anxiety– he didn't think Jon would come here now. It was supposed to be a surprise.

Before he could think of what to do, Jon opened his eyes, and they locked on Martin. Jon stiffened with surprise and Martin sat there, frozen.

He lifted a shaky hand. “H-hello.”

“What on earth are you doing out here?”

Martin took his hand back, nearly a flinch. Bad start. “I-I thought I could help tidy things up. Um, I was thinking about maybe dusting next. You know, make myself useful.”

Jon let out a long sigh through his nose, riddled with exasperation and impatience, and Martin just barely stopped himself from curling up with embarrassment. “Martin, please. Despite the circumstances, you are still my guest– there’s no need for this.”

“No, no, I really don’t mind–”

“I promise that the manor doesn’t need your attention.” Carving a path to the vegetable patch, Jon crouched down, reaching for the stem of one of the radishes. He hadn’t even turned around when he spoke to Martin. “Please, take this time for yourself.”

Martin wanted to say something– was desperate for it, actually. It’s really no trouble and I just need something to keep myself busy and please just let me do this, I need this.

But Jon made himself clear. He didn’t need, or want, Martin’s help.

Martin stood. Hesitated, just a moment. But Jon had moved on to the eggplants. He didn’t look back as Martin approached the greenhouse door, and closed it behind him.

END PREVIEW

Check out the Monster of Magnus Manor here!

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #fanfiction #fic #long post #momm

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mysteira6 · 4 years ago

Text

FukaFlower - (Mother) Flower’s Day

Summary:

She stared at the object in her hands, eyes glued on the two red lines smeared onto the white strip of paper.

Right. She has to tell him. Or rather, she has to surprise him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

In other words, wow, we’re going there for Flower’s birthday AND Mother’s Day, aren’t we? :D

… Sorry for being so late. Let’s just pretend that it’s still 9th May, okay? ><;;;

You guys get a heaping amount of fluff at the beginning as my apology for not writing in forever. :’D

Also, fair warning: Flower is notably more feminine here than many people would perceive her. As is Fukase being more mature than most interpretations. Don’t get me wrong; I love tomboy Flower and child-like Fukase, but I also like perceiving them this way too ;3

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was just an hour after dawn when she woke up.

Thin rays of gold peaked from the horizon as the indigo hues from the wide expanse of the sky slowly faded away. In the passing minute, the scenery from their window transformed into shades of red, pink and orange while the sun rose, enveloping their neighborhood with its warmth.

Somewhere in that row of quaint houses was where the waking woman lived in. A humble two-floored home consisting of everything she could ever ask for. A kitchen to cook in, a living room to relax, recording rooms for musical expeditions, amenities… And the shared bedroom where she would spend all her spare time with her beloved husband.

The white-haired figure shuffled restlessly, even while lying down on her bed. She took care to not wake the still sleeping figure next to her, but the temptation to just shake him awake was unbearable. After all, how could she stay still? From the moment she fell asleep the night before to the early hours of the morning, she was well aware of how special today was going to be.

And also of how much her heart was pounding as she relayed her plan over her head once more.

Just stick to the plan, Flower. She firmly reminded herself, fearful of the one-in-a-million chance that she would forget about it at the last minute. Leave it in the box, get him to reach in and let the conversation flow from there. Not too hard for you to handle, right?

A minute of silence later and all she could do was sigh in frustration. It was not unjustifiable, however; it was already a known secret between all of their friends that between the couple, she was anything but the fun type. Even after she had spent so much time with the red-haired joker, it was impossible for her to really pull off a fun-filled trick to anyone else, much less to do so at the man who was able to see through her every stoic façade. It would be no surprise at all if he managed to see through her plan too, she realized. And for that to happen would be…

Under the sheets, Flower slowly raised her left hand to her face, slowly sweeping her right fingers across the silver band on her ring finger, as if her subconscious was reminding her of exactly who she was thinking about. Ah, how could she forget? That the man she was about to try and trick was none other than her husband? The one person in the whole world that she had dedicated her life to her secrets, her weaknesses, and even her moments of joy?

As she pondered, she was filled with renewed vigor. This occasion was certainly a joyous one, and whether or not he saw through her procedure to unveil it, she was going to share it with him regardless.

Shuffling a little more on her bed, Flower reached over to the closet-door compartment of her bedside table, occasionally glancing back at the sleeping man on the other side of the bed in case he suddenly woke up. It certainly didn’t help that he had his back facing her, giving her no hints on whether his eyes were wide open and awake or closed in soundly slumber. The young woman eventually gave in to her taking the risk and assuming the latter.

Gradually rotating her body to the side, her hand stretched out to pick up the mostly-empty, cardboard box laying behind the wooden door, taking extreme care to not shake it around even a little bit, knowing that the small object within was sure to rattle if she did.

A quick visual and kinesthetic inspection of the apparatus managed to calm her heart slightly, seeing that everything was still in there (and not damaged in any bit, thank goodness). She spared no second in setting it up properly, placing the box upright and relocating the white, flat item in its proper place. With the preparations complete, it was finally time for phase two.

That is, waking him up and convincing him to play a game.

While she was still a little nervous, to boot.

Flower tried to take in a deep breath to calm herself, though much to her dismay, it could only help her so little. Was this how Fukase felt when he proposed to her? Feeling a deeply rooted sense of anticipation and excitement flowing through his entire body, almost ready to burst out of him while carrying the weight of nervousness on his back like rocks? Was he worried if she’d say no to him? Of course, he would, wouldn’t he? Who could really tell him that his girlfriend of so many years would still say yes to his proposal to be his wife?

Suck it up, Flower. You’re better than this. A last-minute attempt to push herself to go for it; pep-talk. This is Fukase, we’re talking about. Your husband, no less. He’s been with you through everything; singing together, chatting together, spending time together… He devoted his very existence to be with you and do everything with you. Have more faith in-

“Mmrph…”

Speak of the devil. His muffled groans were so sudden that she nearly dropped the box in her hands. Setting it aside on the floor next to the bed, Flower stared at the digital clock on the table again, its digits reading ‘08 30’, the time when they would emerge from their bed and prepared for the day ahead. She heaved a last breath of air for encouragement. Show time.

Quietly, she spun around to face the back of the snoozing redhead, though it was clear that he had moved slightly, as if ready to wake up. The young woman bit back the urge to just glomp on her beloved and beg for his attention on her special day, instead skimming her fingers through his soft, fluffy scarlet curls. A fitting payback for the countless times that he would wake her up by ruffling her own hair.

A smile that rivaled the cheekiness of a little trickster slithered to her lips. “Fukase…” She murmured in the quietest tone she could muster, keeping one hand buried in his hair while another gently held his left shoulder sticking out in the air, shaking it slightly. “Fukase, wake up.”

“Mmm? Fi… Five more minutes…” The groggy young man tried to inch deeper into the covers as if evading her attempts to pull him from the depths of his slumber. Despite the audible beating of her heart, Flower was certainly having none of that, and only advanced in swinging his body back and forth with a little more force. “I don’t have five more minutes, sleepyhead.” She uttered in mild impatience, saying each word bit by bit as if she was hesitating. It was only natural since the usually quieter, shyer Flower was a complete stranger to putting on a cheeky front, but since today was so special, she decided to give it a shot anyway.

“Can you get up? Please?” She pleaded after seeing that Fukase hadn’t moved for a few seconds, thinking that he might have actually gone back to sleep unknowingly. “I won’t stop messing with your hair if you don’t.”

“Go ahead and… mess it up anyways…” He grumbled, though his tone sounded more affectionate than annoyed. “I’ll just comb it back to normal when I wake up-”

“Then… I won’t stop shaking you back and forth. Like this-!” As if to emphasize her point, she propped herself on her right elbow, giving herself more leverage to rock Fukase’s figure even more. Though she managed to sway his body to lie flat on his back, it did nothing to tug his eyelids open, his sleepy chuckles indicating that he was still not waking up.

“Gonna have to…” He paused to yawn before mumbling again. “Try harder… than that… Flowie…”

The mention of his loving nickname for her sent a wave of warmth coursing through her. It was almost enough to distract her from her original objective and coax her to snooze by her lover’s side for the whole morning. Perhaps for the whole day, too, seeing that neither of them had any work to do for a good 24 hours.

Fortunately for her, it was only almost enough. And if she really had to ‘try harder’ to wake him up…

A knowing smirk and a bit of maneuvering later, plus a light pat on the redhead’s temple, and Fukase soon opened his eyes to the most flustered position he could ever be in. Straddling on top of his lying figure was his gorgeous wife, her shimmering violet eyes gazing at him with her loving adoration and a glint of mischief. In the now ivory rays of sunlight, Flower’s snow-white hair seemed to be sparkling, even the black streak sitting atop her scalp and the ebony highlights peeking from her neck. While she remained there, clothed in nothing else but one of Fukase’s shirts and her underwear, a playful grin was written all over her face, fully aware of the growing red blush spreading across Fukase’s cheeks.

No doubt was he wide awake at this point, though it was a struggle to keep his voice from trembling in excitement. After all, Flower just seemed to know exactly how to push his buttons and Fukase considered himself lucky and unlucky to fall victim to her knowing touch. “G-good morning, Flower…” His words came out in an unsure whisper that made Flower’s heart swell with pride. “Um, why are you uh…”

“Hm?” The young lady in question only fluttered her eyes innocently as she leaned her face close to his while gently caressing the intricate scars embedded on his left cheek, a remnant of a fire accident in his youth that caused the entirety of his left side to be riddled with darkened skin. For a long time, Fukase refused to let anyone see his full body disfigured and cursed to look hideous forever, let alone allow anyone to lay a finger on his skin and trigger a flashback of the trauma that was cruelly bestowed on him on the day of the accident. It was one of his defining features when they first met; him being the boy who would pat the shoulders of his friends to comfort them and ruffle the younger singers’ hair as a sign of affection, but would refuse to be hugged or touched by anyone else.

Though as they had seen through the past few years, Fukase’s fated meeting with his wife was the exact cure he needed to fully overcome his past, the exact remedy he needed to allow the love of his life to see beyond his appearance and love him just like any other human being.

As soon as Flower’s fingers left his face, he found himself sighing at the loss of her warmth, aching for it to return. “Fukase…” She cooed flirtatiously, her intense gaze on his ruby eyes making his heart skip a beat. “Is it working?”

“Wh-what’s working?” An uncharacteristic stutter from the usually confident man gave Flower the courage she needed to position her elbows squarely by his head, bringing her face even closer to his and making him anticipate a passionate kiss.

“Are you… wide awake now?”

“Yeah, I am.” He answered quickly, hoping that his voice did not sound shaky anymore. It had only been a few minutes and granted that he wasn’t wearing anything to cover his chest, but having Flower lay on top of him like this was getting him way too excited in the wrong place. “I’m uh, wide awake now, princess.” He hurriedly declared, trying to prop himself on both of his arms as a way to get out of bed fast. His efforts, however, were only foiled by Flower’s asserting hold on both of his wrists, pinning him back to the bed and certainly not helping out in keeping his inner passion in check.

Instead, the redhead was forced to keep watching his angel lean in close, close, closer to his face once more, not breaking eye contact for one single second as her lips barely brushed over his. No doubt it was her way of teasing him so early in the morning, all because he just wouldn’t wake up to the strangely provocative-in-the-morning Flower.

Hm. Something was up, wasn’t it?

Before he could confirm such a thought, and thankfully before he was about to give in to the fire that had been burning within him for a while now, Flower gave him a simple smooch on the cheek and rose from her straddling position, resuming her original spot next to Fukase on the bed, the latter who still hadn’t sat up properly after bearing witness to his lover’s inner seductive nature.

When he finally regained control over his limbs, the young man gradually raised his upper body off the bed, turning slightly to converse with the cross-legged lady next to him. “What, not gonna give me a proper good morning kiss?” He quipped, trying to reclaim his lost confidence.

Flower only giggled in response. “I just did, didn’t I?”

“Felt more like a nip than an actual kiss.” He casually commented, a hand lightly rubbing the spot where she had landed her soft lips on, a milder yet still present redness on his face. “Seems unlikely for you, my dear ice-queen-who-never-seduces-me.”

“Hey! It’s my special day.” The aforementioned ‘ice queen’ protested childishly, shifting her body away from the quipping man. “You have to spare me for being a bit cheeky for once.”

“A ‘bit’ cheeky?” A combination of doubt, suspicion and a dash of jest rose in his tone as he crossed his legs and his arms, facing the now beaming woman. “Flower, do you know how much of a tease you were back there?”

Her answer was in the form of a question, though it sounded as if she was replying in certainty as well. “Yes…?”

“And do you know what I could’ve done if you kept doing it?” Fukase continued, narrowing his eyes at her as if to intimidate her.

A sly wink was his answer. “I know~”

“ … You would be totally fine with me doing it, wouldn’t you?”

He could hear the smile on her face, even if she hadn’t whipped her head around and flashed a cheeky smirk at him. “Maybe~” She cooed before turning around again.

That look on her face, burned into his memory, was both alluring and annoying to him. The former, since it was so rare to see her emit such a daring and downright enticing persona, and the latter since her being such a tease was an even rarer sight for him that he would never get used to. Instead of acting on either of those urges, Fukase opted to crawl towards his wife, wrapping his arms around her petite waist in a tight hug from behind. The sensation of him nesting his chin on her right shoulder, effectively leaning against her face, cued a startled gasp from the unsuspecting woman, though it was soon followed by a melodious chuckle. He loved hearing her laugh.

“You are absolutely insatiable, you know that?” He remarked lovingly, letting out a relaxed sigh.

“So are you.” Came as her spunky reply, though that didn’t stop her from relishing in his warm embrace, placing her palms against those pressed against her waist.

All was still for a while as they sat there, sharing each other’s presence in the silence of the morning. Between their busy recording sessions and composing their songs, such peaceful moments between them seemed scarce, which was exactly why they both had come to treasure them so much.

“By the way,” Fukase suddenly spoke, breaking the momentary silence. “Happy birthday, dear.” He continued, brushing one of her stray hairs behind her ears with his right hand, as if to unveil her beauty to himself.

“Thank you.” Despite her calm composure, the blissful, congratulatory phrase had set a reminder ringing in Flower’s head. Right, how could she forget? A morning of fun-filled quips between the couple had nearly swept her plan under the rug. Her eyes darted to the ground next to the bed once more. The box was still there. And from the looks of it, so did her earlier trepidation and nervousness return to her senses.

The longer she held it off, the more likely she was going to forget about it for the rest of the day. Now or never.

“Ahem,” She slowly began, gradually moving herself away from Fukase’s arms as she approached the edge of the bed. “Before we get today started, because I know you definitely have a plan for today-”

“Only natural if you want to celebrate your lover’s birthday in the best way you can~” He joked, winking at the girl in question while he crossed his arms again, as if recalling his own schedule in his head.

“I figured you would.” She nodded, hands reaching down to finally grab the nearly forgotten box lying on the carpeted floor. “But before that… I need a favour from you.”

“What is it?”

Seeing him willing to comply sent a wave of excitement coursing through her, boosting her confidence in picking up the cardboard box and placing it right in front of her, keeping the opened side of it facing her while the side with a circular hole was facing Fukase. In her usual, straight-to-the-point tone, she spoke. “Just stick your hand in this box.”

“ … What?”

To say that the redhead was confused was a huge understatement, seeing that one, his wife might be seductive or cheeky, but in no way would she ever pull a trick like this, and two, what in the world was even in there?

“Are you trying to copy those reality TV shows or something?” He laughed whole-heartedly, shifting a little closer to the box. “Like when they put a fake cockroach or a live toad in the box?”

When the white-haired girl didn’t reply, only stifling her giggles under her breath, the light in his eyes slightly faded. “Y-you didn’t actually put something absurd in there, did you??”

“Nooo…” If only he could see what was really in the box…! Instead of holding it off any longer, Flower simply held the upright box and nudged him again. “There’s only one way to find out what’s in there so…”

Though he continued his skeptical gaze at her, Fukase went ahead and raised his hand anyway. “I guess it is your birthday, so I’ll comply. But if I get my hand chopped off by a baby alligator-”

“Fukase, do you think I could fit a baby alligator in a small shoebox like this?”

“So it’s something small?” He narrowed down verbally, about to reach in until he retracted his hand at a terrifying thought. “Is it a spider?”

She couldn’t hold back her giggle. “No, it’s not.”

“Is it… slime?”

“You know how I hate touching those things, let alone expect me to leave one in there for you to hold it.”

He held up his spare hand as if surrendering. “Just making sure that you weren’t pulling my leg. Or arm, I guess.” He reasoned, seeming to eventually give in and squeeze his hand through the hole while Flower tried her hardest to restrain her eagerness. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how he would respond to all this, let alone sit still as she watched him.

From the back of the box, Flower could see a rough coarse left hand swinging around cautiously, as if Fukase had already forgotten how he deduced that the mystery object in the box was likely smaller than he thought. The sight of his fingers skittering across the cardboard walls made her snicker so much that the redhead took the hint and just went straight for the bottom of the hollow space.

Only to come in contact with a flat, rod-like item that rattled every time it moved. Something that was made out of plastic and was quite long. A quick grab-and-drop of the object proved that its weight was nothing to scoff at; for a rod small enough to fit a shoebox, it was rather… heavy… Wait…

“So…?” Flower’s voice shivered a little, likely due to both her nervousness and her anticipation of his answer. “What is it?”

He didn’t respond for a few minutes, the initial cheerful aura that was always present on his face gradually ebbing away, the reality of what he was holding sinking into his head. The young woman’s heart was threatening to sink to the depths of her chest too if it weren’t for his free right hand springing out and latching on hers, conviction dripping from his unusually low tone. “Flower, please tell me if I got this wrong.”

Half-letting go of the box and interlocking her fingers with her lover’s, she spoke softly. “What is it?”

“This… This is a…” As if for further confirmation, his left hand held the object inside once more before dropping it again. “This is a pregnancy test, isn’t it.”

It didn’t sound like he was asking a question but she decided to answer him anyway. “Yes, it is.”

“And today… Today’s also Mother’s Day, isn��t it?”

So the ultimate trickster managed to see through why she decided to tell her today of all days? To that end, Flower giggled again. “Yeap…”

“And this…” The atmosphere in the room felt as if a huge revelation was about to drop on the floor. “This is actually… yours…?”

There was no stopping the brightest expression that was spreading all over her face, through her wide, sparkling smile and radiant eyes, and even to the rapid nodding of her head as her other hand reached into the box in front of her, holding the test kit before the both of them while gently shoving the now forgotten box to the side. The natural lighting of the room was more than enough to illuminate the two very visible red lines contrasting against their pale white background. He didn’t have to look at the guide written next to the small window to understand exactly what was going on.

The fingers clenched around her left hand tightened. For a long, nearly unbearable silence, Fukase stared at the test kit, then at Flower, then back at the test kit over and over again. It was only when his other hand reached for her face that he ultimately spoke in the shakiest voice she had ever heard. “Th-this isn’t a joke… right?”

The overwhelming emotions bubbling inside her rendered her unable to speak, leading her to shake her head enthusiastically enough times for her husband to get the hint that she wasn’t joking. At all. “Y-you’re… You’re really gonna… holy shit-”

What happened next went by way too fast; both of his hands flying to her wrists, exerting enough force for him to pounce on top of her as she laid on her back on the bed once again; his body being propped up on his elbows while his fingers searched for hers, his face dipping low to land a long, very well-deserved smooch on her soft lips as both of them closed their eyes, enjoying the bliss of their intimacy; one lasting kiss following another as he smothered her with physical blessings of his undying adoration of her; his forehead naturally perching itself on top of hers as his eyes shuttered open again, greeting his lover, his wife, his everything with the most tender gaze any woman would envy for.

“Oh my god.” It was a barely audible whisper, but the still flabbergasted look on his face spoke volumes of what he was feeling. So did the small beads of saline water slowly dripping down his eyes. “Oh my god, Flower.”

“I know.” An almost voiceless reply came from the usually sharp voiced singer as a hand shot up to rub his tears away. She couldn’t tell if she herself had started crying too. “I just… I can’t believe it either.”

“You’re going to be a mom,” The sheer joy in his heart bleeded through those words. “And I… I’m gonna be… a dad.”

“Are you nervous, Mr Mad Hatter?”

Though he was still sniffling, Fukase sulked at the childish nickname. “That was from ages ago, darling.” He commented with a single choked up laugh. Even though it was a fitting name for the still humorous and top-hat wearing Fukase, it felt like way too long ago when she would call him that. “Besides, aren’t you speaking too highly for someone who’s been trembling all morning?”

“I wasn’t trembling that much.” She protested, raising a small finger to sweetly boop his nose, musing at how odd it felt seeing that his usual red cross was missing (normally, he wouldn’t have it on until they were out of bed). The red-haired man chuckled at the gesture, returning it by caressing her face as if it was a precious jewel, seeming to wipe her cheeks clean of any remaining tears streaking her face. “I beg to differ. After all, you were trying to pull a trick on me, weren’t you?”

“Like I said before, it is my birthday.” As if mimicking him when he successfully pulled a prank on her, Flower stuck out a tongue like a child would. “And I’m so happy that I got to spend it with you, dear.”

Hearing that cued him to slowly rise from his hovering position, allowing Flower to sit up a second time as he continued. “And speaking of which, now that you’ve completed your plan, it’s time for me to execute mine.”

She laughed amusingly. “Oh?”

“I did have a plan of how to spend your birthday with you, you know.” He winked knowingly as he stretched across the bed to reclaim the nearly forgotten pregnancy test kit and fateful shoe box. “Of course, I’ll need to make some minor tweaks here and there, but I intend to still follow it through, you know.”

Flower could only beam at her husband’s ever-present devotion to make her special day even more special for her. It was one of the thousand of things she loved about him. “I can’t wait.” She gleefully declared as she too approached the edge of the bed, ready to doll herself up for the day ahead.

While Fukase slipped on a spare tee and made his way to the bathroom, a quiet mutter slipped out of his mouth. “Looks like the night plan’s gonna need a replacement…”

“What night plan?”

“N-nothing!!”

The young lady only raised a palm to her mouth as she laughed once more, watching her lover duck behind the door and fully aware of what he meant by those words. Indeed, how in the world did she gain the affections of such an amazing man?

One thing was for certain; it was going to be her best birthday yet.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

by the way, I kinda want to have an idea of how much my one-shots have impacted the fukaflower army, so I would appreciate it if you would answer this poll really quickly, thank you!!

https://www.strawpoll.me/45273276

#fukase #vflower #fukase vocaloid #vocaloid fukase #vocaloid flower #flower vocaloid #fukaflower #flokase #established couple #married couple #what's in the box challenge #happy 7th birthday flower!#happy mother's day too!

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ghostsray · 5 years ago

Text

kin assigned fenton

(’nother @phicphight entry for @darks-ink‘s prompt: "Fenton/Phantom AU where during the Portal accident, a ghost bonds to Danny Fenton's body, bringing him back to life but maintaining their own ghostly memories and none of Danny's. Meanwhile, Danny himself died and became a ghost, keeping his own human memories.")

(words: 8645) (AO3)

(part 2)

The first thing Phantom noticed when he woke up was that he felt heavy.

Gravity did not exist in the ghost zone. He never felt heavy unless he was being pinned by another ghost. As such, he was filled with fear, and his eys flew open.

He immediately regretted this action, because the harsh light that met his eyes made him wince and close them again. How could his eyes hurt? Ghosts shouldn't even be able to feel pain unless it was dull, but just looking at something bright made his head ache.

Now that he noticed it, he felt much more than just a headache. There was the cold floor underneath his arms, and when he tried to stir, a sharp ache flared throughout his whole body.

What, sincerely, the fuck was happening?

There was ringing in his ears, but that faded over time. When the ringing was no longer there, he was able to make out voices. They seemed to repeat the same name over and over: "Danny!"

"Who's Danny?" he managed to say. Ancients, even his tongue felt heavy.

The voices suddenly fell silent. "Um," said one of them, "you are."

Phantom hesitantly opened his eyes again, slowly this time. He found two people standing over him, but something about them looked odd. Their skins weren't like any shade of blue, green, or gray he had seen on other ghosts, and they lacked any sort of glow emanating from their bodies...

Phantom's eyes widened, and he blurted out, "Humans!"

The concern on both humans' faces immediately deepened. "...Yeah?" the darker one, which wore glasses and a ridiculous red hat, said. "Should we not be?"

The paler one, which looked like a girl with black hair and even blacker eyeliner, leaned over Phantom with knitted brows. She held up a hand with four fingers raised and asked, "Danny, how many fingers am I holding up?"

Phantom wanted to scramble away from these strangers, but his body was too tired and--ugh--heavy for him to move, so he frowned at the human girl and said, "Four. But why do you keep calling me Danny?"

The two humans exchanged a glance, then the girl asked, "Do you remember anything about yourself?"

"Yeah," Phantom said, a little (okay, a lot) confused. "My name's Phantom."

Another exchanged glance, and the human boy said, "No, it's not."

Phantom eyed the two of them in turn and said, "How do you know? I've never even met you before."

The girl grabbed his shoulder, which made him wince because he was still in a lot of pain (which shouldn't be possible, but he was). She stated sternly, "Yes, you have. We're your friends--I'm Sam, he's Tucker, remember? And you're Danny."

Despite his pain, Phantom managed to push her away and sit up against the awful pull of gravity. "No, I'm not! I--" He froze, because just then a strand of black hair fell over his eye. His hair wasn't black. If that wasn't enough to confuse him, he then noticed his own hands, which in fact were not his own. He was dressed in a white jumpsuit, except it looked like it had been blown apart--tears and holes riddled it, and through these, the skin underneath was visible. Pink skin, just like the paler human's. Phantom brought the hand up to his face. Hundreds of tiny grooves were etched into it.

Again, what the fuck? This was not a ghost hand. It didn't even have any claws! Realization dawned on him. He wasn't in a ghost body...he was in a human's.

"Uh, Danny?" the boy--Tucker--asked.

Danny. That must be the name of the human he was inside. Phantom didn't even remember overshadowing this guy, but that must be what was happening, right? He focused on leaving Danny's body so the human can talk to his friends and get them to leave him alone. Except, well, no matter how hard he tried...

"I'm stuck," he said.

"Stuck?" Sam repeated.

Phantom was really filled with fear now. This--yuck--human organ in his borrowed chest began to beat harder the more anxious he got, which wasn't helping. "I'm stuck inside this body! Why can't I leave?"

He glared at the two humans before him, who looked dumbfounded. "...Um," Tucker finally said, "are you saying...you're a ghost?"

"Yes, I'm a ghost!" Phantom snapped. Ouch, his head hurt. Phantom tried to push Danny's stupid body to its feet, which was enormously hard with this stupid gravity, but he managed to succeed. "I'm not Danny, whoever he is. I need to get out!"

"Er, Da--Phantom," Sam said. "How do we know you're really a ghost and not just, uh..."

"Off your bonkers?" Tucker completed.

Phantom raised an eyebrow. "Why? What's so hard to believe about your friend getting possessed?"

"Nothing much," Tucker answered, "except that ghosts don't exist."

Of fucking course he would say that. Why would humans ever believe in ghosts? The two species interact so rarely that Phantom himself would not have believed in humans if several ghosts didn't previously exist as them in life. Phantom opened his mouth, trying to find a valid argument, but he came up empty. Not that it mattered anyway, because the blood rushing from the chest organ was growing too heavy for his thought organ to handle, and he felt Danny's knees buckle and send him falling to the floor again while his vision filled with black.

He woke up. Again.

This time, the surface underneath him wasn't so cold. In fact, it was warm and soft. Likewise, the torn up hazmat suit he was wearing before was now replaced by soft cotton clothes.

Phantom hurriedly brought a hand to his face and was immediately disappointed. He was still in Danny's body. How? Why? Why was he stuck?

"Danny, you're awake!" a voice next to him said, making him jolt in surprise. He expected to see the same girl as before, but when he turned his head (Correction: Danny's head) to the side, he saw a different human. She had ginger hair and teal eyes.

"I'm not Danny," he told her.

The girl frowned. "Sam and Tucker told me about this. They say you think you are...a ghost?"

"I don't think I'm a ghost, I am a ghost," Phantom retorted.

"Really?" the girl replied skeptically. "Can you prove that?"

That should have been easy. Ghosts still kept a few of their powers even while they were possessing someone--at least, that's what he heard from the few ghosts who did interact with humans and managed to overshadow one. He focused on Danny's hand, willing it to turn invisible.

It did not turn invisible.

He frowned and tried to phase it through the soft surface he was lying on. The hand only pressed against it, but it did not phase through.

Invisibility and intangibility were a ghost's two simplest powers, so why was he unable to use them?

"You're not a ghost," the girl said when she sensed his failure. "You're Danny Fenton, a human."

"I'm pretty sure I just told you that I'm not."

The girl's gaze was intense as she continued, "You just went through a traumatizing experience. It would be normal for your brain to make up memories to..."

"Woah, woah, woah," Phantom said before she could finish. He rolled his borrowed eyes and grumbled, "Awesome. You're a psychologist."

"I'm your sister, Jazz," she stated simply. "And...are you saying you know what a psychologist is?"

"Of course I do! Do you think all ghosts are eighteenth century peasants or something? Psychologists can die, too, you know."

Jazz was undaunted by his comment. "As I was saying, though..."

"I'm not crazy--I mean, Danny isn't crazy," Phantom cut her off. "Like I told you, I'm a ghost."

All of a sudden, the door slammed open, causing Phantom to jump in his bed. A very large human man dressed in a vivid orange jumpsuit walked in, followed by a shorter human woman in a matching teal suit.

"He confesses! So he's guilty," the man said.

Jazz groaned. "Dad--"

"Your father is right, dear," the woman in teal said. "You said Danny might be having a psychological crisis, so we let you talk to him, but it's clear now that the ghost inside him is saying the truth."

"Yes, thank you!" Phantom said, spreading his arms out gladly. "Finally, someone who believes me!"

The woman gave him a smile. "We believe you, dear. And we'll get you out of my son."

"Really?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh, yes," she said, and then whatever happiness Phantom felt immediately plummeted as she pulled out a very large weapon and aimed it at him. "And the only way to do that is by exterminating you."

Phantom's eyes widened, and he chuckled nervously. "Um, sike?"

The gun powered up, and Phantom yelped and shut his eyes as a blast came out at him.

Silence fell over the room.

Phantom opened one eye, then the other. The weapon's nuzzle was smoking slightly, so it must have fired already, but he wasn't harmed. He scanned the room to see any sign of where the shot might have landed, and he found a scorch mark--right behind where he should have been hit.

"Huh," the large man said. "I guess Jazzy-pants was right."

Phantom snapped his attention to him. "What?"

"The weapon didn't affect you," the woman holding the gun said. "It only affects ghosts, which means you're a hundred percent human."

"Wait, hold up," Phantom said, growing a little nervous and extremely confused. "How do you even know it works against ghosts? Did you meet any?"

The woman sighed, like this was a topic she had to explain many times over. "I assure you, it works. We don't need any practical testing to know that the theory is correct."

"But it's not," he argued, then gestured down to himself. "It didn't shoot me."

"Trust me, I know what I'm talking about," the woman said. "You're human."

Phantom paled. "But..."

He felt a hand rest on his shoulder and saw Jazz looking at him pityingly. "It's okay, Danny. I know you're confused."

"I'm not Danny!" he shouted. He couldn't be. There was no way his memories could be fake. The Ghost Zone, the lairs he visited, Frostbite, Dora, Sidney, all those ghosts he befriended...he was certain those couldn't be fake. Right?

But the humans seemed sure about their conclusion. The woman put her weapon away, got close to Phantom, and actually kissed his forehead. "I'm sure youre tired, Danny. Why don't you go back to sleep?"

Phantom wanted to argue that he wasn't tired, that he was the opposite of tired, but unfortunately, she was right. After she lowered him back into the bed with an immensely strong grip, he felt his (Danny's?) eyelids grow heavy. Well, heavier than usual.

The other people in the room, Danny's family, filed out as Phantom reluctantly fell asleep.

He saw himself back in the Ghost Zone, where he should be. He was flying around lazily, doing loop de loops in the air and poking the clouds of swirling ectoplasm that littered the Zone. He was bored. The Ghost Zone was a neat place, but he felt hed done all the exploring he could, and he wished something new would happen.

Luckily or unluckily, something did. Not very far, a spark of light appeared. Phantom raised his eyebrows curiously and approached it, but it disappeared. Weird. He floated to the spot where it had been.

Big mistake. The spark reappeared, except it was less of a spark and more of an explosion this time. Electricity burst through Phantom's form and fried him from the inside out. He screamed. His surroundings melted into nothing, and at some point, he thought he heard his scream mix with someone else's. His molecules were split apart, and he felt his consciousness go somewhere else, some body that was not his own.

And then he felt heavy.

Phantom gasped and jolted awake. He blinked several times, his brain filled with confusion. He wasn't in the Ghost Zone. He was still trapped in the human realm, so what was up with that vision?

Oh, he thought, remembering what Nocturne had told him about visions that humans saw in their sleep. That was a dream.

From what hed heard about dreams, they rarely ever made sense. This one did, though. He was certain that was a memory of what brought him here.

A lot of good remembering did him, though.

Phantom looked over the room he was in, which he didn't get a chance to do previously. It was too dark to see clearly, which was frustrating, because darkness had never impeded his vision when he was a ghost. Although, the soft light coming through the window was enough to let him make out a few things in the room, like the various models of what he recognized had been described to him as spaceships, and posters of what he heard were called stars.

There was also a mirror in the room. Phantom rose from the bed, and he noticed that the pain had blessedly subsided, although he still felt heavy. Stupid gravity. He managed to stand on his own after a few minutes of nearly falling off balance, then shuffled his way to the mirror.

Shit, he thought, because even though he knew he was in someone else's body, he never had a chance to actually see it before now. The boy he was inside had black hair and blue eyes, which he remembered were the same colors as that large man in orange had. This body was smaller, though, more similar in structure to the woman. That damned black hair kept falling in front of his eyes. He looked around as young as those two humans who first greeted him, which was also around the age Phantom (as a ghost) usually appeared, although he never kept count of how many years exactly that was. Not like keeping count of years was easy inside a dimension where there was no sun.

While Phantom was busy despairing over the frail body he was trapped inside, an object in the room fell with a sudden crash. Phantom jumped a foot in the air. For Pariah's sake, why was he so jumpy in this body?

He turned around and jumped yet again as he noticed the green glow that had fallen all over the room. A few objects started floating on their own, including the bedside clock that was knocked onto the floor before.

If Phantom were a regular human, he probably would have shitted himself. But Phantom was not. Instead, his face split into a relieved smile, and he opened up his arms and exclaimed, "Thank Clockwork! A ghost! You have to help me."

The floating objects paused, as if they were put off by Phantom's weirdly positive outburst. Then they fell back to their original places, and the glow gathered into a certain spot in the room until they formed a person.

Phantom frowned and tilted his borrowed head. The ghost that appeared before him looked familiar. Just as he was wondering why, he realized: it was the same image he had just seen in the mirror, only with inverted colors, so that he had white hair instead of black, grayish-blue skin instead of pink, and ectoplasmic green eyes instead of blue.

"You're Danny," Phantom said. Then he slapped a fist on an open palm and said, "Ohhhh, so that's why I couldn't return control to you! You're dead."

The ghost, who was indeed dead Danny Fenton, stiffened and yelled, "I'm not dead!"

"You're a ghost," Phantom said, gesturing to Danny's floating, glowing form. "I'm pretty sure that means you're dead."

Danny pursed his lips. Then he grabbed Phantom by the collar and repeated, "I'm not dead, because my living body is right here, and I would kindly like you to give it back."

Phantom chuckled and slowly raised a finger. "Um, about that..."

Danny's glare was intense. Phantom didn't think he could be a very strong ghost, considering how recent his death was, but he didn't have any powers to protect himself anymore, so he shrunk warily under his eyes.

"What about that? Give me back my body."

"Yeah, um, I'm kind of, stuck?" Phantom informed him.

"Stuck?" He shook his head rapidly and said, "Quit joking around! Let me get back in my body, or I'll get my parents to beat your ghostly ass."

Phantom paused, because he heard Danny's voice falter at the end. The hands grapping him were shaking. He realized Danny must be afraid.

"It's okay," he spoke soothingly, trying to pat his shoulder reassuringly. "You just died, I'm sure that's--"

"I'm not dead!" Danny screamed and threw him to the ground. Ow, ow ow, stupid human body that feels pain.

Phantom tried to get up and reason with him again, but then the door opened. Danny's mom was there, holding the gun from before.

Danny turned around, and he widened his eyes and smiled. "Mom--"

But the woman didn't hear him. She crossed the room in a few bounds and formed a barrier with her body between Phantom and Danny, except, well...she was protecting the wrong one.

"Leave my son alone, you ghost," she spat at Danny, aiming her weapon at him while Phantom lay behind her back.

"What?" Danny's smile fell, and he stared at her and said, "But that's not--"

He didn't have a chance to complete his sentence before she shot him. A ray hit him right in the chest, pushing him back and slamming him against the wall. When he looked up again, her stern expression didn't change, and her weapon did not lower.

Fuck, thought Phantom, and he pulled himself up behind her. "Miss, um, Mom--"

"Don't worry, Danny," she said over her shoulder. "Mommy's gonna take care of this nasty specter."

She powered up the gun again, causing Danny (the real one) to flinch. "Please, listen to me..."

She did not. When she pulled the trigger once more, Phantom saw one last heartbroken look in the ghost's eyes before he phased through the wall and fled from his mother.

Danny's mom blew on the gun and flipped her hair. "See? That ghost was no problem."

Phantom picked his jaw up and looked at her. "Why did you shoot at him?"

She frowned. "Because he was a ghost, of course. You can never trust a ghost."

"Why not?"

She looked like he had just asked her the dumbest question on the planet. "Because they're evil. Malicious. Violent."

"That's not true," Phantom said, truthfully feeling a little offended.

Danny's mom only laughed and patted his head. "I'm sorry, who is the ghost expert here? Me or you?" She smiled at him and said, "Don't worry, I'll protect you from any ghost that tries to harm you."

Phantom would have argued further, but the resolution in her voice scared him a little. For the first time, he found himself grateful for being in Danny's body, because he wasn't sure what she would have done to him if she saw him as a ghost.

"Come on, go back to bed. There's still a couple of hours left before morning," she told him, guiding him back to Danny's bed. After he was settled in, she started to leave the room, but he stopped her by asking, "Wait...did you add anything to your gun?"

She smiled at him and said, "Nope. I told you it works on ghosts."

"Oh," he said, feeling his stomach organ churn.

Danny's mom left, only pausing at the doorway to tell him, "Good night, sleep tight, and don't let the bad ghosts bite."

Phantom lay in bed for a long time, but he didn't sleep. He stared down at Danny's hand...at his hand.

Danny was dead, and he was fully human, which meant this body was now his.

That thought burned in his mind until the light from out the window grew brighter, and the alarm clock beeped from its fallen spot on the floor.

Jazz knocked on his door. "Oh, good, you're awake," she said. She grumbled something inaudible then told him, "Mom and Dad want you to go to school."

Phantom hesitated. "...School?"

"I know," she said with a huff. She rolled her eyes and said in a mimicking tone, "It doesn't matter if you got into an accident that almost killed you and made you lose your memory! As long as you can walk, you can walk to school." She shook her head then asked, "Are you feeling better, at least?"

"Um," Phantom said, "define 'better'."

"Whatever. I'll drive you to school." And she left.

Phantom stayed in bed for several moments while the alarm continued to beep sadly. And then...he felt his bladder act up. He knew, from talking to ghosts who were humans, what this meant.

"Fuck," he muttered. "I have to pee."

After wandering around the top floor of the house, he finally found what he was pretty sure was called the bathroom. Figuring out the mechanics of the toilet and the faucet were easy enough, as well as the mehcanics of the actual peeing itself. He tried not to look at Danny's private parts while he did his business...even though he wasn't sure how long he would be spending in this body.

He went downstairs, which was difficult for someone who spent most of his existence flying, but he reached the bottom safely and found Danny's family sitting around a table with some stuff on it.

As he watched, Jazz scooped up a spoonful of the stuff inside her bowl, and she stuffed it into her mouth and chewed. Oh, so it was food.

Jazz caught him staring and asked, "Well? Are you going to eat?"

"Oh," he said. That's right, didn't humans need to eat to survive? He sat at the table, across from Jazz.

Phantom looked at the bowl in front of Jazz and noticed it was filled with a white liquid with pieces of multicolored circles swimming in it. He turned his attention to the jug that held the same white liquid, the box with a cartoon toucan on it that he guessed held the small circles, and the empty bowl in front of him. Well, he could put two and two together, and in no time he poured himself a bowl of milk and cereal and brought a spoonful to his mouth.

Holy Unworld! That tasted great. I mean, food did exist in the Ghost Zone for those who missed eating, but it all had the same acidic taste of ectoplasm. This was different. It was tooth-rottingly sweet.

Jazz raised an eyebrow at his dreamy expression. "You look like you're enjoying your Froot Loops."

"Froot Loops," he repeated the name. "We didn't have this in the Ghost Zone." Or maybe they did, but it wouldn't have tasted the same.

Jazz lowered her spoon and frowned. "Ghosts. Are you still going on about that?"

Phantom stopped chewing. He cast his eyes downward and twirled the spoon in his bowl. "I'm right," he said. "You were wrong about the fake memory stuff."

"Oh really?" she said, sounding like she didn't believe him. "Why is that?"

Phantom opened his mouth to speak, but his words died when he noticed Danny's mom. She had her back on them and was washing the dishes, but he thought he saw her tilt her ear toward them. Had she been listening?

"It's fine," Jazz sighed. "We'll talk about it after school. We're going to be late."

Phantom nodded and finished his Froot Loops, happy not to talk. Not with the ghost hunter in the room.

After the breakfast was drained, Jazz made for the door. Phantom followed her, but she blocked him with a hand and raised an eyebrow at his clothes. "You're not going to school in pyjamas, are you?"

Phantom glanced down at himself and saw that he was still wearing the same soft clothes he had slept in. "Uhh..."

Jazz rolled her eyes. "Go change clothes."

"Right," Phantom said and went back to Danny's room.

Honestly, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to wear. Ghosts didn't have different clothes for different occasions (most of them spent their entire existence in the same set of clothes--either whatever they had died in, or if they were born in the Zone like Phantom was, then whatever they thought made them look scarier), and the Fentons weren't exactly a good example of what humans normally wear.

As he rummaged through Danny's stuff, he came across a photograph. It showed Danny with those two friends of his--the ones who greeted Phantom when he first woke up. The trio stood in a grassy park, smiling, their arms linked together.

Phantom was filled with guilt as he thought back to Danny's ghost, begging him for his body back. If only he knew how to do that. He set the photo aside, but at least it helped him in one thing: the three teenagers were wearing regular clothes. He managed to find some clothes that matched the ones Danny wore in the picture, and when he returned downstairs, he was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a red-and-white T-shirt.

Jazz was waiting for him. The two teens walked outside and entered her car, a small convertible. He sat in the passenger seat and copied what Jazz did to strap her seatbelt, but his mind was still thinking about that photo of Danny he found. After a moment's hesitation, he said, "I saw him."

Jazz's hand stopped in the middle of turning the key in the ignition. "Saw who?"

"Danny," he told her.

Jazz pursed her lips. She started the car and drove. "If you saw him, then where is he now?"

"Your mom shot at him."

"What?"

"He's a ghost. I don't think she recognized him, but...well, he's dead."

Phantom finally learned what the seatbelt's function was when he lurched forward as Jazz suddenly stopped the car. She gripped the wheel in tight fists and breathed through flared nostrils. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't say that," she pleaded. "It was bad enough when I thought you... I thought you might die. But you didn't. You're alive."

Phantom felt guilt gnaw at him from hearing Jazz. What could he tell her other than Actually, your brother did die, oops haha, sorry?

Jazz took in a deep breath, then she kept driving like nothing happened. Phantom stayed quiet.

Eventually, the car stopped, and Jazz unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out. Phantom looked at the building they arrived at. Numerous humans around his general age were either milling about or going inside.

School. He never went to one himself, but he heard some stories from Sidney. They weren't nice stories.

Phantom gulped and exited the car. No sooner had he done that than he noticed the two teens rushing toward him.

"Danny!" that girl from last night said. What was her name...Sam. She hesitated and asked, "Do you...remember us?"

"You mean to ask if Danny is back," Phantom told her. That gave her the answer she needed, and she deflated.

Tucker glanced between them, then hooked his arm around Phantom's shoulder and said, "Hey, if you're amnesiac, you need someone to guide you through school again, right?"

"I'm not..." He sighed. Then he eyed the building warily and asked, "Are there bullies?"

"Oh, definitely," Tucker answered, which made his stomach sink.

His time at school actually went by pretty smoothly. He had wondered if anyone would notice that he wasn't Danny, but nobody paid him much attention, not even the teachers. He managed to breeze by two subjects already--one was math, which was admittedly gibberish to him, but Tucker told him no one understood it anyway. The second one he knew better--English literature. He had visited Ghostwriter's library a bunch of times in the Zone and knew about Lord of the Flies when the teacher asked him about it.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't remember your name, but you remember reading a class assignment?"

Phantom almost screamed out "I'm not Danny" again, but he held himself back. He knew they would never believe him, not unless...

"Look, Sam, Tucker," he said nervously. He wasn't sure if they would react the same way Jazz did, but considering how close friends they were, then they probably would. The two waited for him expectantly while he tried to pick out the right words. "Danny...your friend...he's--"

"Hey, Fentina!" a sharp voice interrupted him.

"Oh bother," Sam grumbled.

Confused, Phantom turned around to the source of the voice. What greeted him was a tall and muscular blonde human in a letterman's jacket, sneering down at him. "I didn't see you at the beginning of the school day. I think we have some beating to catch up on," he taunted and slammed a fist into his palm.

"Oh," Phantom said numbly. "You're a bully."

The blonde released a laugh that sounded like a pig getting choked. "Me, a bully? More like you're a loser who deserves to get bullied."

"That...makes no sense."

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because blonde dude's face turned beet red, and he picked up Phantom by the collar and slammed him into a row of lockers. At this point, pain was becoming a constant in Phantom's new, stolen life.

"Lay off, Dash," Sam snapped at him.

"You lay off, Manson," Dash bit back. "I'm only interested in Fenturd here."

"I hear you mispronouncing Fenton a lot," Phantom said in spite of his nerves. "It's really not that hard a name to memorize."

Dash's face turned an even deeper shade of red, and he punched Phantom in the face. All Phantom could think was, Man, Danny would not be happy if he found out I broke his face. Then Dash opened a random locker and stuffed him inside.

"Have fun, FenTON," he yelled at him and slammed the locker door shut.

This was fine. Phantom could handle being trapped inside a tight space with no intangibility to bail him out. I mean, he was already trapped inside this body, wasn't he? Haha.

But after the first few minutes passed, he grew nervous. There was no way he would be left here forever, right? Oh, Ancients, he was going to die just like Sidney, alone in a school locker.

Apparently, that was not to be, because suddenly the air inside the locker grew colder. A soft green glow washed over it, and Phantom felt two cold hands grip his arms. A tingle ran across him. He recognized the sensation: intangibility. The arms pulled, and he was tugged through the locker wall and brought face to face with none other than Danny.

Phantom blinked. "You again."

Danny scowled. "You're still in my body."

"Well, yeah," Phantom said simply. "If I left, it would die."

Danny pulled him closer so he can feel his glare more intensely, probably. Phantom felt it all right, and he squinted his eyes because dear Clockwork, were ghost eyes always this bright?

"I asked you before, and I'm asking you again," Danny growled. "Give me back my body."

"And I already told you, I can't," Phantom retorted.

"Why not? It's mine!" His grip on Phantom's arms were tight now. "I can't live as a ghost!"

"I mean, technically you wouldn't really be living because--"

"I'm not dead!" Danny denied. "I can't...I can't be..."

His grip on Phantom felt weak now. His eyes were dimmer.

Phantom gulped and hesitantly patted Danny's arm in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "Hey, it's fine. Lots of ghosts I know went through a crisis when they died."

"Did they have parents who wanted to hunt them down?" Danny asked softly. Phantom paused and didn't know how to respond.

Well, they were alone, at least. The hallway was empty except for the two of them, and he had a feeling that whatever teacher he had would be wondering where Danny Fenton was. He wasn't sure if this fact was a good thing or a bad thing, because then Sam and Tucker would not see proof of their friend being dead, and he wasn't sure if that knowledge was good or bad.

"No," Danny said, snapping Phantom out of his thoughts. "No. I'm not going to stay like this while you live my life."

"But I already told you..." Phantom began, but Danny's eyes returned their brightness, and he stared directly at Phantom.

"I'm a ghost. I can possess stuff, right?"

Phantom's eyes widened, and that was all the answer Danny needed before he overshadowed him.

A minute later, the bell rung, and students filed out of classrooms. He heard footsteps approach him and turned around to see his friends.

"Thank god, you made it out!" Tucker said once he saw him. "I swear, I told Lancer that Dash stuffed you in a locker again, but he didn't believe me..." He trailed off and pointed out, "Your eyes are green."

"They are?" Danny asked. "Huh, that's weird. I'm not surprised about Mr. Lancer, though."

"Um, didn't you technically only meet him today or something?"

"Today? I wish," Danny said, rolling his green eyes. "That guy's been following our class since third grade."

Tucker gaped. "You remember?"

"Third grade? Unfortunately."

Sam was staring. She stepped forward. "Danny?" she slowly asked.

Danny grinned. "Hey, Sam."

She laughed and hugged him. "You're back! How?"

Danny shrugged. "Come on, you can't expect me to forget you forever, can you?"

Sam and Tucker smiled. Danny smiled. In the back of Danny's head, Phantom mentally frowned.

The day passed. Danny was back. He took his classes as always. He got bullied by Dash as always, but that didnt bother him much. Funny how small things become once you've literally died.

Not. Danny didn't die. He told himself that.

More than once, he felt a hand twitch on its own. He sent a mental frown to Phantom and told him, Why won't you leave already?

Dude, how many times do I have to explain to you that I can't?

But I'm in my own body now.

Temporarily. Overshadowing someone isn't the same as taking their body.

Danny tuned him out and continued with his day.

There was a price, however. Phantom tried to warn him, but he got ignored. As the day went by, Danny felt himself grow exhausted at an awfully quick pace.

Tucker noticed first. "Are you okay? You're breathing heavily, and it's not even P.E. yet."

"I'm fine," Danny panted, but he didn't look that way. His skin was pale and covered with sweat.

"No, you're not," Sam said with a frown. "It's the portal--you shouldn't be walking around school after a near-death accident like that."

"I'm not dead!" Danny snapped, shocking his friends with his sudden volume. He faltered. "I mean...I need to go use the bathroom."

They let him go, though their eyes followed his back as he left. He entered the nearest restroom he found and immediately splashed his face with water.

You should stop overshadowing me, Phantom suggested.

Danny scowled. He gripped the sink to steady his shaking hands. "I'm not overshadowing anyone. This is my body."

I'm not saying it's not, but right now, you're a ghost. Prolonged overshadowing isn't healthy.

Danny gritted his teeth. "So, what? I let you steal my life again?"

It's just until we can figure out how to switch us back, Phantom said, but Danny could tell when he lied.

"You don't think we can be switched back, can you?"

Phantom hesitated. Luckily for him, he didn't need to think of a reply--just then, Danny shivered, and a blue mist escaped from his mouth.

Danny frowned. "What was that?"

Oh no, Phantom thought.

Suddenly, a shrill voice cried out, "Trespasser!" Danny jumped and whipped around to face whoever spoke. He squinted his eyes and said, "Who the fuck?"

The speaker would have looked like a regular scrawny freshman, except his skin was gray and transparent, and his torso was sticking halfway through a closed bathroom stall. It was a ghost, obviously.

Truthfully, Danny was almost disappointed in how un-scary he seemed. As a child, he had nightmares about ghosts from the stories his parents told him, but the specter in front of him was far from intimidating. He looked like one of the geeks that Dash and his gang would have picked on if he were alive.

The ghost pointed a finger at Danny and repeated in his nasally voice, "Trespasser! This is my haunt."

Danny eyed the row of empty stalls and asked, "You mean the restroom?"

"Yes! I died in this place, and I chose to make it my haunt instead of going to the Ghost Zone. I don't need another ghost like you to take it from me!"

"Okay, Moaning Myrtle, calm down," Danny spoke. "Why would I even want to steal a restroom? Also, what do you mean by calling me a ghost?"

The ghost left his stall and floated over Danny with a scowl. "I'm not stupid. I can tell when a ghost is overshadowing someone. And if you would steal a body, then you would steal a haunt."

Danny bristled. "I didn't steal this body! It was mine in the first place."

"Oh, sure, and I bet you're going to say this haunt has always been yours!"

"I'm not interested in your fucking water closet!" Danny bit back. "And this body is mine! I was born in it. I lived in it. I...it can't belong to anyone else."

The ghost narrowed his eyes. Then he said, "You're a nasty ass liar, you know that?"

"I'm not lying!"

"Whatever! You're clearly overshadowing a human, and you're clearly still standing inside my haunt, so..."

Um, maybe you should leave the bathroom, Phantom suggested. But Danny stood his ground, glaring at the ghost with his fists by his side. He was tired of this--tired of his death being pointed out to him.

"What are you going to do about it, huh? Give me a swirly?" he gibed.

The ghost's expression darkened. He raised his arm, and several stalls began to rumble. Danny faltered, and his anger melted into apprehension.

Run, Phantom said. This time, Danny decided it was a good idea to listen.

He managed to make it halfway to the exit when all the stalls suddenly exploded. Jets of slightly glowing water burst forth and hit Danny in the back, pushing him the rest of the way out and also drenching him completely.

He sluggishly picked himself off the wet floor. When he glanced to his side, he saw Kwan pausing mid-step. "...I'll just use the restroom on the second floor," Kwan said, turned a 180 and left.

Danny flipped himself over and faced the ghost floating in the restroom's doorway. "I left your stupid washroom alone, so can you leave?" he barked.

"But how do I know you won't come back?" the ghost challenged. "And you're still overshadowing the poor human."

Danny laughed mirthlessly. "Poor human?"

The ghost didn't seem to understand the irony in that. He tackled Danny, phasing the both of them through the wall and into the adjacent hallway.

A few stragglers were still idling in the hallway when they burst in. At the sudden sight of the ghost, most of them screamed and scrambled away. Only a few stayed behind: some redheaded human in a basketball shirt, and Danny's friends, Sam and Tucker.

"Danny!" Sam called out and ran to his side. Tucker froze in place. He lifted a shaky finger at the toilet ghost and stammered, "That's a g-ghost."

The toilet ghost floated away from Danny and crossed his arms. "Yeah, duh," he replied. "I'm not the only one, though."

Tucker was about to ask him what he meant by that, but then Danny began to heave. Sam hovered over him worriedly, but even she had to step away when his coughing became intense. He lurched over--then coughed himself out of his body.

Ghost Danny popped out and landed on the floor. Behind him, Phantom sighed and fell onto his side.

Sam gaped and stared between them, her mouth forming wordless questions, before she gulped and said to Danny, "Phantom?"

Danny frowned and said, "No, I'm Danny! He's Phantom." He pointed at the person inside his human body.

Sam chuckled weakly. "I think you must be confused. He's Danny, because he's a human. And you're Phantom, because youre a g..."

"He's right," Phantom interrupted from his spot on the floor. He pushed himself up, still panting heavily, and said, "That's what I've been trying to tell you. I'm not Danny. He is."

Sam stared at him, then back at Danny. "But...but that would mean--" She trailed off, and her face turned pale.

Whatever heartfelt conversation might have followed was cut off by another splash of water aimed at Danny. He growled and turned on the toilet ghost. "Will you go already?"

The ghost's fists were surrounded by swirling water (which Danny really hoped was clean). He shook his head and barked at him, "Not until you leave this school."

"The school? I thought your haunt was only the restroom."

"It was! But then you made fun of it, so I've decided to make this entire building my territory!"

He shot another beam of water at Danny. Danny grinded his teeth and wished the water would stop in mid-air...and to his surprise, it did. A transparent green shield suddenly appeared in front of him, blocking the water and keeping him dry. Danny blinked and floated back in surprise, and the shield dissapeared.

Phantom was watching him with interest. When the shield disappeared, he called out to Danny and told him, "Use your ghost rays!"

"My what?" was Danny's response right before another jet of water came at him. This time, he didn't summon an ecto-shield in time, and he got slammed back against a row of lockers. As he picked himself up, he noticed that redhead from earlier, who had been staring, trembling, as the whole encounter went down. Ah, fuck, what was his name again? He was in Danny's P.E. class. The poor boy was shivering like a leaf, which made sense--Danny would have done the same if he saw a real ghost when he was still human.

The toilet ghost approached Danny, but stopped and scowled at the redhead. "Leave, human," he ordered. "This doesn't involve you."

The guy (His name started with a W, Danny remembered. Walt? Wes?) stared at the ghost for a moment, then hurriedly nodded and ran. That left the ghost flying in front of Danny.

"Your ghost ray!" Phantom repeated from behind the toilet ghost, as if that would make Danny understand what he was saying. "Just think about shooting him with your hands!"

Shooting him...with his hands? That made no sense, but Danny did as he was told. He made a finger gun and aimed it at the ghost, then imagined a pew! pew! come out.

Pew! came out the ray and shot the ghost right at his chest.

The opponent had only time to widen his eyes before he was slammed against the opposite wall and dissolved into (grossly) glowing water.

Danny slowly blinked. "...Functioning fingerguns," he said. "That's useful."

"What the actual fuck, dude?"

He turned and saw Tucker approach him, wearing a bewildered expression. He gestured wildly to Danny and said, "You're a ghost now? And your body is conscious on its own?"

"Actually, it's conscious because a ghost is inside," he replied, not-so-subtly glaring at Phantom as he said so.

Phantom threw his (or Danny's...whatever) arms up and said, "I didn't choose to be stuck in your body, okay? It was an accident."

Tucker rubbed his forehead. "I still don't understand. How is all this happenning?"

Before either Danny could speak, Sam's voice suddenly cut through and said, "I killed you."

Danny stared at Sam. She was hugging her arms, eyes downcast, and still looked pale as a sheet. "You're a ghost," she said softly. "That means you've died. And I killed you."

Danny felt that same tightness in his chest, not exactly squeezing any heart, but something similar. "I'm not dead," he tried again, but after repeating that sentence so many times, the lie sounded weak even to himself.

Phantom sent him a pitying gaze. Sam bit her lips and squeezed herself tighter. "Yes, you are. It was the portal accident. Somehow, you died and got replaced by...whoever this is." She gestured weakly to Phantom, then choked up and continued in a wavering voice, "It was my fault. I told you to go inside that portal. You're--you're dead, because of me. I killed you."

Seeing her like that, hearing her, made any sorry feelings Danny had for himself disappear. All he cared about was wiping that melancholy from his friend's eyes. "No," he told her firmly. "It wasn't your fault. I agreed. I--" A lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed it down before saying, "I'm dead because of my own fault."

He could feel Phantom's eyes boring into him. Probably, that ghost (ex-ghost?) was thinking something along the lines of Fucking finally! You admit it to yourself at last, but the emotional intensity of the situation was likely what prevented him from voicing that thought out loud.

Sam raised her eyes and met his sadly. Tucker stepped forward, his brows drawn together. "But...but that can't be it!" he protested. He grabbed Phantom's arm and pointed out, "Your body is still alive, isn't it? Can't we...I dont know...redo the accident so it gets you back in your body the same way Phantom got inside yours?"

Danny perked up and felt a sliver of hope grow inside him, but Phantom was quick to shake his head and say, "That won't be so easy. The Ghost Zone is always shifting. Whatever spot I was in when the portal thing happened, it won't be the same place for Danny."

"Oh," Tucker said, deflating. His eyes turned downcast, and his hands fell limply off Phantom's arm. "I guess it can be it, then."

Phantom looked at the trio of friends, their broken expressions. He honestly didn't see what the big fuss was about, but he hated seeing them so sad, so he hurriedly added in a forcefully positive tone, "That's okay, though! Difficult doesn't have to mean impossible! I'm sure we can...uh..."

He trailed off after spotting a person at the end of the hallway. Confused, Danny turned to see who he was looking at. He found his sister, slack-jawed, her eyes darting between him and Phantom.

"Jazz!" he said, then looked down and noticed his ghostly appearance. "Um, I can explain."

Jazz didn't leave him room to, because she promptly fainted.

Danny rushed forward to grab her, but of course, she fell right through his arms. He winced when she hit her face on the hard floor. Tucker came forward and checked her.

"She's fine," he said with a cross between a smile and a grimace.

Jazz's eyes fluttered awake. She groaned and turned her head to the side. On the wall next to her was a silly cartoon infographic of flu symptoms. It took her mind a minute to recognize it, but she was at the school infirmary.

"You're awake?" asked a voice nearby. She turned her head to the other side and saw her brother's face.

"Danny..." She frowned and sat up on the infirmary bed. Her face hurt. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

Jazz tried to recall what brought her here. She remembered seeing seeing Danny, and...ghost Danny? She shook her head. "Must have been a dream," she mumbled.

"What?"

She saw Danny watching her curiously. She sighed and ran a hand across her face, which still ached for some reason. "I remember seeing you standing next to your ghost. I think you might have...died. But that couldn't have been possible."

"You think that was a dream."

Danny's expression was unreadable. Jazz frowned. "It had to be. Ghosts aren't real." Mentally, she added, I hope not.

Danny averted his eyes from her. She wondered if she said something wrong, but then Danny stood up from his chair and said, "You slipped and hit your face, so we brought you to the school nurse. You need some rest...I'll leave you alone."

It sounded reasonable enough, but something nagged at her. Danny wouldn't meet her eyes, instead choosing to fidget with the hem of his shirt. She had a feeling he was lying.

"Danny," she called. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Her brother stiffened. It looked like he was about to say something, but he must have changed his mind at the last minute because he left the room wordlessly.

Phantom exited the school infirmary. "She's okay," he told the air.

Danny visualized in front of him, wearing a frown. "I heard what went down. She thinks it wasn't real."

Phantom shrugged. He felt a little bad, but he wasn't sure he could handle her reaction if he told her that her brother was really dead...again. The first time he tried didn't go so cheerfully.

"Where are your friends?" Phantom asked, choosing to change the subject.

"You mean Sam and Tuck? What do you think?" He chuckled humorlessly, then gazed at his boots and murmured, "They just discovered that ghosts exist and their friend is dead. Of course they needed some time to process that."

Phantom bit his lip. "We'll find some way to switch us back. Maybe."

That "maybe" didn't sound so reassuring, and Danny didn't look reassured. Phantom grimaced and tried to think of a better way to lift his spirits, but then he heard footsteps approach. Danny made himself invisible while Phantom turned around and saw a familiar couple in orange and teal come toward them.

"Danno!" Danny's dad greeted him. "The school called--is Jazzy-pants alright?"

"She's fine," Phantom said with a steady voice. "She just had some low blood sugar is all."

The man patted his shoulder, then entered the room where Jazz was held. His wife went to follow him, but Phantom stopped her by calling, "Uh...Mom."

She spun to him and smiled. "What is it, sweetie?"

Phantom hesitated. He fidgeted with his shirt and asked, "Did you really mean what you said last night--about all ghosts being bad?"

The woman frowned. "Of course I did. Was I wrong?"

"It's just, well..." He focused on a random locker and said, "What if your son...I mean, what if I became a ghost? What would you do to me then?"

He braved a glance at her and saw a shadow cross her expression. She hesitated for a moment before replying carefully, "I don't like to think about that. I choose to believe that when you die, it won't be violent. I'll make sure of that." She forced a smile, then ruffled Phantom's hair and added, "But that doesn't matter right now. You're still alive and human. As long as you're with me, then I know that any ghost who looks like you is an imposter."

Phantom's stomach sank, and he swallowed down a lump that formed in his throat. Danny's mom only smiled at him once more before she followed her husband to see Jazz.

Danny didn't reappear. Phantom didn't see him for the rest of the day. But in that moment, he thought he heard a choked sob come from the air behind him.

#Danny Phantom #Phic Phight #phic phight 20 #phic phight 2020 #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #jazz fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #dash baxter #fic #fanfiction #writing #au #mine

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