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little-boyyyy-blog · 5 months

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back to america

jessie fleming x reader

when jessie makes the to move to portland, you were the only thing on her mind. yet still somehow. you make the biggest move of your relationship.

“i missed you.” the brunette girl you had missed so passionately whispered against the soft skin of your neck. your arms going and wrapping over jessie’s shoulders as you kept the door open with your foot.

“i missed you more jay”

there was a few bags behind the girl; knowing the the rest were getting flown out later in time. jessie and you had spent months (years) going back and forth over the idea of her making the move back to the states from west london. she had always fallen homesick, missing being so close to her parents and longtime girlfriend.

even while at ucla; jessie causally saw her family and friends. either making the trip up to london, ontario on school breaks or her family flying down on their long weekends to spend time with their girl. jessie and her family were thick as thieves. and she’d been telling anyone who asked that, that very reason was why she wanted to come back.

but she had also missed you. and she had just started subconsciously thinking of you as family.

but long distance had been extremely hard on you as a pair. and after you secured a job that was somewhere you felt like settling down at; at least for a while. you started not being able to take off nearly as much time as you could while finishing your masters and working a small restaurant job.

so once she did decide on coming back to the states, she wasted no time in coming home. and by that she meant you. and your high rise apartment that she loved dearly.

“there’s never been a longer plane ride a day in my life.”

jessie and you had met in a shared 3rd year kinetics and transport in material engineering class. it was one of the hardest classes you both had to face in the first 3 years at ucla. that was until you both had ended up in a group of 6 for your midterm final.

you had obviously known who jessie was, everyone did at ucla. but you also knew you had no chance at the gorgeous girl; subsequently leading to never letting you set yourself up for failure by even starting a conversation.

keeping your head down and your eyes away from the soccer stars vicinity allowed you to miraculously never end up in a position to gain a further crush on her. for three years at that! but once you were placed in the same group as her for your midterm, there was absolutely no point in trying.

“do you think anyone else is actually going to show up for this?” presley asked, is hands on his hips as he looked out the door. “it’s only 5:51, just sit down and relax”

he turned and squinted his eyes, causing you to crack a laugh from your friend. “i hate you.”

“no you don’t.”

“i showed up?” presley’s friend piped off; looking up from his computer to now watch the door. “we knew you would canonn, thank you for being early.” presley rolled his eyes before looking back out into the hall. “oo! jenny is here!”

“jenny?” you questioned.

“short blonde who sits front row? always has a question no matter the situation or subject?”

“ah jenny..” you mumbled. well let’s hope she’s useful. or at least more useful than you and some good ole google.

as the time ticked on further until 6’o clock; you found yourself letting out a small sigh of relief. as frustrating as it may be to have to carry the weight of one person in a group you couldn’t help but find a positive of jessie not being there. you didn’t have to face her. that gorgeous gorgeous face.

it was a matter of time. you knew you’d have to come face to face with the brunette who didn’t even know you existed; but you had felt a small amount of relief at it not being today.

but even without the girl your group started hitting the ground running; you working on your computer as the others gave you the information to type down onto the shared slides. the group had been mostly focused on creating an easily accessible but slightly complex introduction to a prototype for the project.

“-i am so sorry! is this group 3 for dr. kimmich’s class?” your eyes shot up from your computer, only to lock with your forever-far away crush. you knew your lips parted, no words coming out but parted as you stared at the beautiful girl. “yes it is! glad you could join us!” presley shot up from his seat, is coffee in hand as he quickly made his way to the brunette.

the last open seat was placed directly infront of you, so as presley ushered the girl in. you were shitting bricks.

the group picked up right where it left off. and jessie ended up being more useful than anyone else. she was insanely good at any engineering class it seemed; but you had never seen it first hand until now.

you could have caught many flies with the way your lips stayed parted and your eyes fixated on the soccer player. her hair was in a messy bun, wearing a ucla soccer shirt an a pair of grey sweats. she looked other-worldly.

you loved how bright her smile was and how her eyebrows furrowed inwards when she didn’t completely understand something. presley has landed multiple kicks to your shin, giving you the crazy eyes and mumbling under his breath everytime for you to stop staring.

you never really could.

“come on, let’s get your stuff inside” you pulled away from her embrace, stealing a peck from her lips and pushing her off to the side. stuggling but managing to pick up the few (four) duffle bags off of the ground and bringing them into your apartment.

“you say let’s and then bring them all in yourself”

“don’t want my pretty girl to hurt herself”

pushing through your bedroom door and placing them on the foot of your bed. jessie found her way behind you; wrapping her arms around your torso as you quickly unzipped one of her bags.

you were prepared to unpack her things, wanting to set up home base for her to make her feel more peaceful with the big change. and you shamelessly knew she’d find a way to wrap her arms around you as you did such. you both had spent 100’s of trips doing the small motions; and this one felt better as you knew it would one of the last.

pulling out all of her shirts and shorts as she laid kisses on the inside of your neck; whispering her ‘i miss you’s’ on the soft skin. having to resist your girlfriend as she continued even through your groans and teasing comments about her being a horny boy.

actually; that probably was one of the traits of jessie’s. she could easily be found herself getting lost in your neck any second possible; even in very public settings or terrible timed events.

“mm jess, get some hangers please” you pushed her away from you, you hand pressing against her hip and tapping for her to move. “fine.” she placed another soft kiss to your neck before scurrying off.

a small smile coming across your face as you continued pulling out her clothes. laying out the shirts flat on the bed and unfolding her pants/sweats only to refold them in a way that would make hanging them up on the hangers easier.

“where did your clothes go?” jessie questioned as she came out of the closet, arms filled with hangers.

of course she noticed right away.

“they are packed up” you rolled your eyes at your girlfriend, she had never been known for her abilities to pick up on subtle details. but she had to pick on this one?

“going on a trip? for what? a month?” she joked; sighing deeply as you grabbed the hangers out of her hands and started hanging up her shirts. a small smile coming across your lips as you caught the end of a portland jersey inbetween your fingertips. “more so months.”

portland has always loved their canadians; and jessie was absolutely no exception to that. so when she got the offer, there was absolutely no way she was going to decline it.

and trust, you understood why portland loved canadians so much. just look at yours?!

“baby what’s going on? there’s a lot of things missing?”

you swallowed your heartbeat down, feeling the anxiety of the impending implications coming faster than expected. you had secretly prayed that she wouldn’t have started questioning things until maybe a few days in.

you had cleared out space in your shower caddie for her own products, a little space on your bedside table for her things to take up. you had even set up an extra key ring by your door for her to be able to hang her keys up on; a brand new key to your apartment occupied it currently. one that she didn’t even know existed.

you watched as her head started looking through the room, her eyes going from the closet to you, to the bathroom door, the nightstand, under the bed, and moving to go to your armoire.

you placed your hand on the soft skin of her forearm, drawing her attention back to you; stopping her from moving around the room to see what else is missing.

taking a deep breath before you even looked at the brunette-girl eyes. “i love you jess, i have since our first group project junior year..” her right arm going around your waist, holding you as your hand gripped on the other girls forearm.

“..you’ve chased ever dream you’ve ever wanted and truthfully got them. making them more and your own in the process. you’ve shown me incredible elegance and composure in some of the hardest times of our relationship and i truly don’t see myself living this life with anyone else..” jessie’s grip found its way to somehow thighten; holding you almost flush against her as you stared up into her eyes.

your eyes watered at the look of complete awe she happened to hold in her beautiful face, incomparable to any 7 wonder or model you’ve ever seen. “..you’ve made the biggest move; the riskiest move of your career to come and make us work. and i would hate myself for not at least asking. so. will you move in with me?”

her smile reflected the same one you given her the day you said yes to her when she asked you on your first date. her hands now both coming up to hold your face as she looked at you; as if she was completely infatuated with you now.

“no way did you just ask me that?”

growing slightly shy at her gaze , you feel your own cheeks heat up in the hold of the girls rough palms. one of your own hands coming up and lightly clasping around her left wrist. a small nod coming from you as you felt embarrassment start to creep up. the lack of anwser made your brain run wild. “if you feel like it’s too soon or too much change at one time i completely un-“

“too soon? i tried countless times to have you move to england with me. i had hoped to quietly make myself at home but this is even better.” she shook her head at your self doubt. almost in amazement that you could even imagine something of the sort. “yes y/n. id love to move in with you.”

“really?”

“i can’t believe you’re re asking me that. im absolutely fucking sure.” her lips coming down to silence any response you could think of. and let’s just say those clothes did get folded and hung up. just happened to be the next morning.

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ihatedtoadmit · 8 months

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A biteful memory [1]

pairing: OT8 x fem!reader

genre: werewolf AU, fluff, crack

warnings: next to no self-confidence

word count: ~4.0k

summary: Your usual, boring days filled with learning are broken once a certain someone takes initiative, breaking this hellish cycle of yours.

↳ Masterlist ↳ Next chapter ↳ Previous chapter

The lectures were boring, as usual.

Every single day I would wake up, my back cracking as I would get up from the horribly thin and uncomfortable dorm bed that housed countless questionable stains that were long ago crusted in there. Sometimes my roommate would still be there, snoring away, other times it would only be me in the small room, despite waking up extremely early for my biology classes. Blinking at the white, crumbing walls for a few seconds, I would sluggishly get ready and be at least a bit presentable. I didn’t really care about looking good, never did. Probably because I was the quiet loner in the class, and my resting bitch face didn’t exactly help with that whole situation. No matter, at least people didn’t really approach me and drain my already weak social batteries, something I was cursed with as an introvert. After glancing at myself in the mirror that was by the door, I would walk over to our lecture building, headphones tightly secured on my ears, giving me the only serotonin I would get for long hours. I would only take them off once I had been seated, necessary supplies like a notebook and several pens neatly laid out before me. Nobody would really sit near me, as I had usually taken a seat in the front -look, i had bad vision-, so after the teacher arrived and the class started, I would only pay attention and take notes, nobody there to distract me from it.

It was a hellish cycle I’d grown used to scarily fast.

Sometimes I wished it wasn’t like this, but then that anxious, shy voice in my head told me that it was better this way, that these so-called friends would only tire me out endlessly, rendering me worthless and unable to focus on my studies.

So I listened to it, not even trying to look a bit friendlier, not correcting the slight furrow of my brows or the downwards arch of my lips, even though I was thinking about happy things, like eating my favourite chocolate back at the dorms I could finally afford.

It was fine.

Truly, it was, right until he decided to approach me.

It started out subtle, his form settling down at the other side of the same row I sat in. There was no interaction, my mind forgetting about him the moment the class started. I couldn’t even be sure that when I had noticed him was the first moment he had sat in that row, his presence so faint and hidden from my focused mind.

But over the week, he sat closer and closer, shortening the gap between us 1 seat at a time. Whenever our eyes met, he would send me a little smile, somehow even looking sheepish in the process.

It was weird, but it was a free country, he could sit wherever he wanted to. So after a questioning glance thrown at his now closer and closer form, I mentally shrugged and ignored him, just like how I had done ever since he’d shown up.

But then a week later he stood next to me, his shorter stature shadowing my sight.

“Hey, is this seat free?” - his deep voice asked between his pearly whites that were on full display from his bright smile, nearly blinding my poor eyes.

I could only blink up at him as I sat there, confused. My finger raised by itself, pointing at my own body, brows deeply furrowed.

“Of course I’m talkin’ to ya, silly.” - he laughed, as if this whole situation was normal.

It really wasn’t normal at all, no. Never believe that for a single moment.

This man was one of the most popular in the entire university, his heavenly looks and velvety voice accompanied by the kindest, brightest of personalities that attracted everyone to him, like moths to a flame. It shouldn’t really surprise you when I say that his whole friend group was filled with similarly popular and sought-after guys, making me, a voluntary outcast, avoid them like the plague. I didn’t want drama like in one of those stupid, teenage shows made in america. I just wanted a quiet life, to get my stupid degree and leave, preferably quietly and without anyone noticing my presence through this long, hellish procedure.

But no, out of all the people to approach me, despite all my efforts to deter them mind you, it had to be fucking Lee Felix, a ladykiller and popular dude. What was this? Some kind of sick, twisted joke? A, a manga where the loner gets pitied and becomes friends with the most popular student? Was that it? The mere thought of it twisted my insides painfully, wishing it would never become reality.

And yet, after staying quiet for god knows how long, I nodded at him slowly, watching as he gleefully sat down to my left and set up his laptop, as usual, ready to take notes. I naively thought that was the end of our interaction, so I turned back to the front where the board sat, grabbing a pen and lightly playing with it in my hands as I waited for the lecture to start.

“I’m Felix by the way, nice to meet ya.”

Oh god, he was not done talking to me. With dread in my eyes, hidden away, I turned back towards him, pursing my lips and uttering my own name in a quiet whisper.

“You always sit here alone, so I thought this was a horrible seat, maybe cursed or something. But no, this is the perfect distance from the projector and board, AND you get to hear the teacher speak clearly. Why does no one else know this?” - he questioned and I could merely shrug my shoulders.

I really didn’t know the answer, I only sat there for some peace, besides all the reasons he just uttered. Overall, this whole situation was better for me, since I was left alone, so I was completely fine with it.

Then the teacher arrived, and thus, our 2 hour long suffering had begun.

It was weird.

I could clearly hear as his fingers gently glided over each button and the quiet clicking sound it emanated in response. I could feel the warmth seeping from his form, stronger when his arm almost brushed against mine. I could hear the quiet grumbles he made when he was annoyed at either the teacher or his own typos, his rhythmical button pressing turning slightly aggressive in return.

It was really weird.

I tried my best to ignore these and continue to write down my messy notes hastily, this particular teacher not giving us mercy by talking fast and giving out shitty powerpoint presentations for his lessons. Without your own notes, it was near impossible to understand them, let alone learn from them and pass the lesson. So I wrote and wrote, pages being quickly filled with blue ink, my mind consumed by the boring topic of statistics and equations in evolution ‘til the end of the lecture.

A groan took my attention as I let out a silent sigh, gently massaging my writing hand as it had started cramping the moment I’d put down my pen.

“This was more brutal than usual, I swear Mr. Dunkins is a sadist. Halfway in and I lost what he was talking about, because of course he had to talk at the speed of light.” - it was Felix, his voice a bit muffled as he dragged a hand over his pale, freckled face.

I nodded at him, completely agreeing. This teacher's lessons were some of the worst, and that was an accomplishment and a half in itself.

“Hey, would you mind comparing notes? I know I don’t have a lot about the second half of the lesson, but I still have the other half’s notes.” - he asked with a sheepish smile and doe eyes, making my own set of eyes widen and my mind stop.

I still couldn’t believe that he was talking to me, so casually at that. And now he wanted to compare notes? With me?? My mind blanked and before I could process anything, my mouth opened to provide an answer to his question.

“I uh…sure.”

“Yaaaaaaay, thank you so much! Are you free next period? I don’t have another lecture ‘til one, we could grab something to eat too.”

I was even more taken aback, as if that was possible. I couldn’t help but look around, waiting to spot someone hiding somewhere with a camera in their hand, filming the prank.

Because that was all this ever could be, no?

But I found nothing, the room was essentially empty, besides the few lingering students besides us two. The boy was still looking at me expectantly, his eyes shining as if the stars from his cheeks somehow crawled in there instead.

So I nodded at him mindlessly, because coincidentally, my lesson that would usually take up that time period was cancelled that day.

And that was how we met.

After that day, Felix would sit next to me in the few lessons we shared, him being in a different major than me. But that never deterred him; he always greeted me with a big wave and an even bigger smile from the door of the classroom, gaining not only my attention, but everyone else’s. No, without missing a day, a lecture, he excitedly sat next to me and started rambling about the game he’d played the previous day, about his friends and how one of them -Changbin, i believe- ate his food that he was craving all day.

He was a ball of sunshine, bright and infectious, not caring how I only hummed or nodded at his words usually, my own lips sealed in silence.

That was the exact reason why I’d avoided him before. Because while I could bask in his warmth these last few weeks freely, those who couldn’t set their hateful, jealous gazes on me.

It started with the staring, their eyes following me everywhere, even to my dorms. Then the messages appeared, sticky notes blinking up at me at the seats I always sat at in my lessons. They were childish, empty threats that I never took seriously. Thankfully, I never really left my stuff alone or in an unlocked locker anywhere, so they could never really take it further.

But those soul-piercing stares were starting to get to me after the second week, goosebumps never failing to accompany them. The intense images of those eyes settled into my gut, my marrow, burrowing there and whispering into my ear hurtful things, using my insecurities to their advantage.

I hated having attention on me, making this a living hell personally designed for me.

The only way out of it was clear: become a loner again and return to those bitter days of loneliness.

“You have a lesson after this, right? We can meet up after that, have a late lunch and hang out.” - Felix beamed at me as usual, making this so much harder for me.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can make it today. I can send you my notes in chat though, so don’t worry.”

His reaction was immediate, the smile on his face slowly melting away, sadness taking over its place. He quickly tried to mask it, plastering on a fake smile, but his pain was obvious to my knowing eyes.

“No, it’s alright, we can meet up another time. Good luck on your remaining classes!” - he told me as I was walking away, wishing him the same in return.

And so, our time together followed this pattern, his smile not radiant anymore. No, there was a permanent sadness to it, to his warmth that turned colder. My heart ached, the guilt of being the reason for it eating away at me slowly, but surely. The worst part? The staring and bullying didn’t even truly stop, it only lightened up a little.

And after a whole week of this utterly useless circus?

I had enough.

“Lixie, do you want to hang out today?” - it was a simple question, barely audible as we were walking out on the hallway, but it created the wanted effect easily.

Felix’s form abruptly stopped, as if not believing what he’d heard. Then, the brightest, widest smile broke out on his face, his eyes lighting up with a myriad of stars. Unable to contain himself, he hugged me, causing me to stiffen up as I was not a fan of body contact -something the poor aussie had a hard time coming to terms with-.

“Yeah, of course! You could meet the others too, we planned to have a movie night since it’s friday anyway. Oh, it’s gonna be so much fun, you’ll see!” - he was rambling as he squeezed me to death, then suddenly holding me at an arm's length to look at my shocked expression. “What, no, Lixie, I don’t want to intrude. We can meet up another time then, really, I promise you.” “Oh come ooon, we’ve known each other for what, two, three months now? It’s damn time I introduce you to the others. They’ll love you!” “Lixie… you know I have social anxiety…”

His expression softened along with his hold on my shoulders, thumbs gently caressing the clothed skin underneath.

“I know, and I won’t force you. Just know that you really wouldn’t intrude on anything. Remember Jisung? He has anxiety too. And yet, in our presence, he turns into one of the loudest, funniest guy in our group. Something he has in common with you, you kno’.” - his smile was gentle, his dark eyes holding a warm shine in them as he looked up at me.

“You can have the scariest expression on your face, dressed in all black, but I know that under all that lies one of the kindest and funniest person I know. Just no one ever put in the effort to dig down deep enough to reveal it. I get to have you all to myself this way, so it’s their loss to be honest.” - I blinked down at him through my rapidly blurring sight, my jaw shut tight in an effort to not let my lips quiver.

But it was all useless, as a single tear cascaded down my face, more following it shortly after.

Felix panicked and started wiping them away, apologising for hurting me. But he didn’t.

“Damn it Lixie, I didn’t want to cry in the hallways, you big sap. If you compliment me one more time, I might even start wailing, so shush. Just shush.” - I murmured out as I suddenly hugged him, my bigger frame easily engulfing his tiny one.

He was stiff, caught off-guard by my sudden hug, which was understandable. I never initiated skin contact before, as touching people made me uncomfortable. But he burrowed himself so deep into my heart, I was fine with it. He was too important to me at this point, so much so that the hug not only failed to make me uncomfortable, no, instead it calmed me down as I just gently burrowed my face into his fluffy hair, inhaling his strawberry shampoo filled scent.

Felix didn’t hesitate much longer to hug me back, his cheeks pressing into my skin, no doubt from the smile he had formed.

“Now, let’s go, before someone decides to use this as blackmail against us.” - I muttered out, releasing him. “It would only take a glare from you and they would delete the evidence instantly, and you know it. But I agree. Let’s go, I’ll walk you to your dorm so you can grab some stuff for your stay at our place.” “Wait what-” “Don’t tell me you thought I would let you come back to your dorm at the dead of night, all alone? Besides, no bus would still drive around by then, and I don’t think you would like walking for hours, because I KNOW you wouldn't let us drive you back.” “...Is it too late to cancel?” “Yep, already messaged them all and they’re excited to meet you. So get your butt in gear, we’re going to get your things.” “I fucking hate you.” “Love you too!”

And he truly didn’t lie. He really escorted me to my room, made fun of me with my own roommate, who was surprised at first about the fact that the Lee Felix was in our room, but then she quickly got over it and even started teasing me. I wanted to dig a hole and hide in it, but alas, under the watchful eyes of Felix, I could only pack some necessary things into my bag, flustered to hell and back. Some clothes, a few notebooks to study from and some toiletries sat in their place firmly, urging me to nod at myself as the imaginary list of necessary items was now done.

Having packed everything, we bid our goodbye and left for the bus stop, chatting about everything and nothing, my mind at a different place.

He was really excited about this whole thing, but I was just a nervous wreck inside. Judging from how he gently massaged one of my hands and spoke just about every silly topic you could imagine, just to take my attention away, he’d probably noticed the state I was in.

I appreciated it, more than he would ever know.

Sure, the people I was about to meet soon were Felix’s good friends -i mean, come on, they lived in a house together, all 8 of them-, so I really shouldn’t have been so nervous. But in reality, I was nervous exactly because of that. What if they hated me and Felix would start hating me too? What if they made him choose between them and me, essentially leaving me alone once more? What if th–

A gentle squeeze of my hand brought me out of my worsening train of thoughts.

“We need to walk for like 20 minutes from here. I would have normally asked for a ride, but my hyungs were all busy, sorry.” “It’s okay, a little walking never hurt anyone.”

So we walked, side by side, his hand never leaving mine as he gently swung them back and forth at his own pace. I listened to him ramble about an anime he’d started watching recently, reminding me of how I’d ignored him recently and missed out on all of his little stories. It ate me alive, the guilt squeezing my throat shut. Thus, I listened to him in silence, nodding sometimes to show that I was paying attention. And I truly was, carving his happy expression into my mind, the way he scrunched up his nose occasionally in happiness when he remembered something particularly funny.

I missed this.

Eventually, we reached an enormous family house, almost worthy of being called a mansion. Felix stopped in front of it, punching something into the dial on one of the fence columns, causing the gigantic steel gate to slowly swing open. Surely not… Surely, this wasn’t where they lived, right?

Oh my god, it was…

I befriended a rich person, holy fucking shit.

“I think some of them are already home, so you can meet them gradually.” - he said happily, but I was just mindlessly following him as he dragged me along, still not over the fact that I somehow ended up in this hilariously unreal situation.

And indeed, some of them were already there. Half-naked, that is, their shirts for some reason not on their body. I could only blink a few times as I processed this as they were just blinking back at our frozen forms that were just standing at the entrance.

“I better leave.” - I muttered out, my ears and cheeks probably heated as I quickly tore my gaze away, along with my hand from Felix’s hold. “Oh my fucking god, I told you she’s coming over and you couldn’t even put a fucking shirt on?! You better be decent by the time we come back, if she hasn’t run out of the city yet!” - Felix shouted so loudly, I could still hear him crystal clear, even though I was almost at the gates by then.

You see, their property was huge, a small garden dividing the house from the front gate, the greenery leading all the way around to the back, where laid an entire forest -or at least that was what i could say after only a glance-. Still, I ran to the front gate and decided to climb over the small, stone columns, not knowing how to open the steel barricade by myself. I heard Felix shouting my name, pleading with me to stop and go back as he hastily closed in on me, but I was too flustered to do that.

I was way too shy for this shit.

“Please don’t go, I swear they're better than this!” - Felix panted out, his hands latched onto one of my calves, most of my body already up on the top of the column.

I shook my head, causing him to tighten his grip and try to drag me down, my own grip on the stone construction tightening in return. He pleaded with me as we had this silly tug of war, none of us willing to let go.

Just as I was starting to feel sore and think about letting go, I heard a buzz and the quiet creaking of the gates as they opened, footsteps approaching us.

“Do I even want to know what’s happening?” - a male voice asked, gaining Felix’s attention and loosening his hold on me. “Hyune, just please help me get her into the house, she’s gonna injure herself even more at this rate!” - my friend cried out, all the while I shook his grip off of me, ready to finally climb over.

Well… only planned to, really.

Because the next thing I felt were hands gently gripping my sides, prying my weak hands away from the rough stone and slinging me over a shoulder.

“You better explain this to me, Lixie.” - the man, Hyune(?) said. “You know how I said I’ll bring a friend over today for our movie night?” - Felix answered, falling into step next to the taller man who had me in his unbreakable hold. “Yea, of course, you were the most excited I’ve seen you in a long while. Why?” “... that’s her.”

Silence enveloped us as the tall man abruptly stopped in his tracks.

“You mean to tell me that our guest here was trying desperately to escape already?” “It’s because of those idiots, Jisung and Changbin! They decided to flaunt around the house with no shirts on, even though I told them my friend was finally coming over!” “... I guess we should be thankful Chan’s still at work.” “Don’t even tell me, gods. I’m going to fucking choke them to death if they so much as look at her wrong.” - Felix growled out, surprising me as I’d only ever seen his soft, sunshine self. “Oh don’t worry, I don’t think they want to piss you off even more. Besides, we’ve all been curious about this certain friend of yours, who you always speak so highly of.”

Did they…forget I was there? Hello?? I could hear everything??? And what did he mean by that?? I was just an introvert weeb, what the actual fuck!

“Alright, here we are. Do you wanna check in first?” “Yea, hang on for a sec.” - and with that, Lixie opened the door and soon closed it.

“Alright, the coast is clear.”

I was gently let down from the tall man’s shoulder, who I could finally face and see normally.

Next chapter

171 notes · View notes

atinylittlepain · 1 year

Text

Chapter Two

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

series playlist

warnings: dark themes surrounding history of domestic violence, references to physical injury, heavy emotions (hope can also be heavy)

a/n: all i have to say is thank you for reading, and i'd love to hear what you think

......................................

Oh, come child

In a cross bones style

Oh, come child

Come rescue me

'Cause you have seen some

Unbelievable things

Crossbones Style by Cat Power

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Not comfort. Not exactly ease either. Familiarity maybe. Both of them settling into a routine configured around the other. She likes to help with the animals whenever she can, getting up as early as him, no task too daunting or dragging for her to say no to it. Just the other day she helped him trim back the sheep’s hooves, not even flinching when one of the girls tried to give a jerky kick underneath their ministrations, all shush and soothe in her flicking ears as Joel got the job done. She understands flight and freeze like that, at least in the animals.

They get done what chores they can in the morning before she has to get changed for work, the requisite light blue dress with the buttons down the front, an apron snug around her waist. She had made a joke about the fucking fifties the first time he saw her in her uniform, surprising him with the quick, crass humor, her half-grin as she got into the passenger seat of his truck.

He drops her off, heads into town or to the station, whatever needs to be done, and usually is done around lunchtime. He’s supposed to be watching his cholesterol, admonished by the one doctor in town two years in a row now. So he orders a salad with a sigh when he stops into the diner around noon, though Dolores will often tuck a few fries onto the side of his plate, a quiet smile when she sets it down in front of him. Maybe he’s been leaving bigger tips than is appropriate, maybe he made sure that the money in the jar on the counter would be going to her at the end of the day, a quiet conversation with Sal while she was in the back of the kitchen.

He lingers. Always an endless to-do at home, ignored in this instant, stealing a little extra time sitting at the counter, watching her flit and flicker around the regulars. She’s good with people, big, bright smiles that don’t quite round her eyes, laughs light as air, and as empty too. And he sees the quick slump of her shoulders when the customers aren’t looking, when she’s passing through the swinging door to the kitchen. Turn it on and turn it off.

But there’s someone new eating lunch at the diner today. One of those climber-backpacker types, all wired-down, tan muscle against shock-white teeth, flicking back his sun-bleached flop of hair, putting on a real show for her when she drops off his burger at his booth. It’d be rude to just keep looking, to turn around on his stool and stare the man down, so he listens instead.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Can I ask you something?” Like something small and slight being held in a fist, close to breaking or bursting, a cracked chirp of her answer, clearly flustered when she says um, yes, yeah.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a town like this?” That same sound, like she’s trying to make a laugh happen, though it comes out more like a held breath that finally gasps into an exhale.

“That’s kind of you, but I need to get back to work, excuse me.”

“Oh come on, where’s that midwestern hospitality you all seem to have?”

“Do you– can I get you anything else?”

“How about a smile, sweetheart? Just a little one, for me?” For a moment, it’s silent. Joel curls his fingers in a fist, over and over, flex and extend, his back still turned. Something hot and tight closes up in his throat when he hears the man sigh, and then laugh.

“There you go, prettiest thing I’ve seen since I left Denver. I’ll be thinking about you while I’m climbing this afternoon, sweets, thank you for that.”

“Shouldn’t be climbing in the afternoon.” He says it before he can stop himself, turning around on his stool, a thick flare of hate, maybe meanness, when he sees the uncertain curl of her shoulders and the slanted smile on the man’s face.

“Excuse me?” The man slings one arm over the back of his booth, body splaying and slumping toward Joel, trying to take up more space than he’s worth. A little bit of preening, a little bit of plumage.

“You’re likely to get yourself caught in a storm up in the mountains this time of year. I’m surprised such an expert man like yourself didn��t know that.” Arrogant, artifice, the man grins, eyes swooping back over Dolores as he picks up his burger with one hand, a wolfish bite that he tucks into the side of his mouth, the slow roll of his jaw as he focuses back on Joel.

“I don’t mind trying my luck. I usually come out on top. But thanks for the tip, pal, appreciate it.” He takes one more bite, half of his burger gone in two gnashing mouthfuls, all bright white teeth. With that, a quick clap of his hands together, fast heat rubbed between his palms, he pulls out a wad of cash from the front of his pack, leaving a crumpled fistful on the table before he stands with a sigh.

“Better head out. Thank you for the smile, sweetheart, I’m gonna remember that.” He tucks a smaller fold of bills into the pocket on the front of Dolores’ apron, and Joel can see the way her stomach tenses, curling back from the suggestion of touch. The word no flashes big and battering in Joel’s mind, though there’s nothing to be done, the man already shouldering his pack and sending a slippery slide of a smile his way before he’s swaggering hips-first out the door.

“You alright?” She doesn’t quite meet his eyes, even when he ducks his head down to try to catch her beneath her lashes. All he gets is a nod and a pointed sniff, and then she sets herself back into motion, ducking into the kitchen to pick up someone else’s order.

Dolores doesn’t like men, something he learned pretty quickly about her. The first time, when they went to the drugstore together and she wilted like a wan flower under Rod’s friendly conversation, that same curling up of her shoulders, that same drop to her eyes. It happened again when she met John one day at the small grocery store in town. She had been smiling, an easy conversation about palisade peaches being in season, quick to fall and fade when Joel introduced her to the man. Even John, with the disposition of a feckless golden retriever, had gotten that same reaction out of her.

She tolerates the customers at the diner, lots of nervous laughter and quick movement, her sneakers squeaking hard on the chipped linoleum floor. Warm with the few children in town, the women too. But no, she doesn’t like men. All uncertain angles, folding herself up close and tight and away. Honestly, it’s a small miracle she’s softened that snap, that shrink-back around Joel. Comfort in the known, he supposes. He’ll take it.

“Hey, you alright?” Again, he catches her on her way to another table, a quick flicker of her eyes and a nod, shrugging the trays held in her arms a little closer, already moving again. Softened, but still there, cagey, careful, and now coaxed up to a higher degree by that man, that fucking man.

Joel leaves soon after, not wanting to corner or crowd her. Back to routine. Back to the barn and the coop and the animals and all the things that must be done around them. Fall inches ever closer, a time that demands preparation. Work that promises completion and satisfaction when done well and right. Not easy, but simple. Maybe he’s careful to keep an eye on his watch, timing his drive back to the diner right before dinner, just as Dolores is stepping out of the storefront, her face furrowed down to the bills she’s counting in her hands.

“What’s this?” His turn to drop his brow when she gets into the passenger seat and holds out a thick fold of money to him across the console.

“This should cover the clothes, and that drugstore trip you made for me.” He stares at the money, his fingers curling tighter over the steering wheel. That was two weeks ago, nearly three now, and she’s already trying to make even.

“You don’t– I’m not keeping score. That’s yours.” Fast fall, flustered, a stuttered exhale, not what she expected, not what she wanted, her hand staying suspended between them, shaking the money lightly as if to entice him into taking it.

“But, I can’t. I–” What he’d like to do is reach out too, curl his hand over hers to close her fingers around that money, make it all hers. But she doesn’t like touch, even the accidental kind, something else he has learned. That quick tightness, that smalling if he brushes behind her in the kitchen in the morning, so he doesn’t. If their hands reach for the radio in the car at the same time, little fire passed between fingertips, and then her immediate recoil, so he doesn’t. And he doesn’t now either.

“You don’t have to. I was happy to, no score. That’s your money, Dolores.” Like she just swallowed something bitter, her face scrunching and then slackening as she nods, careful and quiet in settling her hand, and her money, back in her lap.

“Could I at least help with groceries?” A small compromise, for her to look at him again, if for nothing else.

“Okay.”

Here is what makes a town. Two blocks proper, a church at one end and a bar at the other. A second hand shop that sits slumped against the post office. A library that gets new books once every two years. A restaurant, the only other one besides the diner, the downstairs of a newly-established bed and breakfast that most of the residents have turned their noses up at. A police station that sits next to the simple steeple of the church, how fitting. And a grocery store, a small one, the nearest safeway a two-hour drive east. Joel had to look up what an IGA was when he first moved here.

And because everyone knows everyone, a trip to the grocery is never in and out, always getting stopped in the produce aisle, asked after while picking up a gallon of milk. Today, no different.

“Hey there, you two. Can I expect to see you at the little thing at the bar tonight?” The little thing Patty is referring to is the fact that it’s the end of the month. A peculiar tradition, not a party, just an agreed-upon herding of one another. Joel has thought to himself on multiple occasions that its real purpose is to make sure no one quietly died while people weren’t paying attention, a once-a-month census.

“I don’t know, Patty, maybe I’ll drop by, keep folks from talking too much.” Dolores’ confusion is clear, searching between him and Patty. Why he’s trying to keep this from her, he’s unsure.

“Well, I hope to see the both of you there.” Patty is a particular kind of woman. Here long enough for her word to have some power behind it. She lives above the secondhand shop alone, though Joel knows she has two sons, shown pictures of them, arms slung across her shoulders, that same slanted smile of hers on both of their faces. They don’t visit. And Patty doesn’t seem sad for it. She orders a specific kind of red hair dye once a month, Joel always seeming to catch her at the post office picking up the box with a distinct logo stamped on its side. Nice enough, a little brash maybe, but she’s always been open-armed with him. And she’s been kind to Dolores too. No questions, at least not to her, no staring or stirring, like it makes the most sense in the world that Joel suddenly has a woman staying with him that he has never mentioned before. So she doesn’t press now, leaves it at that, leaves them to the produce aisle, an easy greeting and goodbye.

“Are you gonna go?” Her hands are deft and discerning, cracking open and peeling back a pale green corn husk, a hoard of it on sale this year, fine silk tassels and that sweet, crisp, smell.

“Oh, probably not.” He holds open the produce bag for her, a quiet yeah when she asks if four ears is enough.

“I would go, you know, if you wanted to.”

“Do you want to?” She shrugs, the slight swing of the hem of her dress as she walks alongside him, zucchini and tomatoes.

“Patty seems like the kind of person who’s used to getting her way.” She doesn’t say it mean, only observation as she tucks two tomatoes down in the cart. He can feel a smile threatening at the corners of his mouth.

“She certainly doesn’t like the word no. We could stop by, if that’s alright with you?”

It is alright, and after dinner, summer spoils sweet and sated, he waits for her on the porch while she changes out of her uniform. It’s getting darker earlier, the sun already cracking and dripping between the mountains, everything hushing down orange and purple. Soon, it will be time for the sheep to spend their nights in the barn, and in the day too, during that deepest, tightest fist of winter. But for now, it’s quiet, save for the dull thrum of all the small, crawling things, air that’s only a relief in its coolness, not a worry.

“Ready?” Pretty, he thinks. Hasn’t seen that before, he thinks. Crisp white with fine little flowers embroidered along the neckline and the sleeves. The neckline, a new expanse of her sternum on display, the fragile flutter of it when he stares just a beat too long.

“Uh-huh, yeah.” Ready, dark enough that the headlights need to be flicked on, flooding yellow down the bare brush and scrub along the road. And then the bleeding neon glow of the bar on the edge of town coming into focus.

Shoes sticking in the syrupy grime of a few decades past, dim lights and a perpetual haze of smoke, something sad and slow drifting in on the jukebox. No pretense, no pretending that folks are here for anything other than getting a little drunk at the end of another day.

Patty is happy to see the both of them, offering a bottle that Joel accepts, and one that Dolores politely declines, though she still allows herself to be pulled along by the older woman, leaving Joel to make his rounds. The same questions, asked and answered, health and hearth and how are you. Fine, just fine. Except, a little distracted, quick glances over to the bar where Dolores is sitting. Patty still there with her, still getting her to smile, so fine, just fine until the next time he looks over.

Not Patty. Him. Big, bright shark tooth smile, fang and flare. Even more tan, skin tight and taut against quick-jumping muscle, all pumped and puffed out from his afternoon climb. A wiry arm slung around the back of Dolores’ chair, her whole body slanted and steeled toward the side as he leans in, lips pulled back in a sneer of a smile.

Whoever Joel was talking to, he’s no longer listening, no longer even feigning interest as he watches, trying to piece together whatever that man is saying to her by the way his jaw pulls with each of his words. Waiting, really, for any excuse to step in, to make this wrong right.

And then, enough, already in motion as he watches the man reach out, the backs of his knuckles brushing against her clavicle before she can jerk away. Gotcha, got you, gonna get you. All the ways the human body can recoil, say no, and all the ways it can refuse to listen.

He doesn’t catch the end of whatever the man is saying, words coming out on a quick bark of laughter that makes Dolores flinch harder, knuckles all curled up in her lap. He doesn’t care to know, a thick wash of no drowning it out. The thing is, Joel can get big, and loud, and mean, so mean. If he needs to. He can roll back his shoulders and set his jaw in a hard grind. He can make a fist and then make contact. He can make a man get small and get gone. But not in front of her. Another body to account for, a shivering down small body, a body that cannot bear any more violence. So he must settle for something else, a quiet heat, an expression on his face that he hopes is no enough.

“Is there a problem?” The man glances over his shoulder, all smile, all teeth.

“Hey, pal. No problem here. I was just telling this pretty thing about the climb I got in, wasn’t I?” He asks it with a duck of his head, trying to steal her gaze that she keeps on her hands in her lap. A habit of hers, the skin around her nails picked and pulled raw, soon to bleed with the way she’s worrying at them now.

“I don’t think she’d like to hear any more of what you have to say, pal.” A flicker of something animal, the man sucks his teeth, mouth screwed to the side before he sighs. Fire needs fuel, and he’s not getting any, certainly not from her. Something that sounds like not worth it as he sways himself out of the bar. Joel knows this kind well, blown in and out in a day, maybe two. Not a problem, not really, and he won’t let it become one.

“Thank you.” She gives Joel her eyes, a quick nod as he sits down beside her. Careful distance kept between them, space for her to spread back out, to unfurl, and she does, leaning back in her chair, a quick roll of her shoulders like she’s trying to shake off that shiver.

“I have no patience for people like that. Think they’re hot shit for hiking up a mountain when they’re just a nuisance.” Maybe he said too much, tempering his words with a swig of his beer, though Dolores seems to receive it, turning slightly toward him so he can feel the ghost of her knee brush against his.

“I just don’t like men like that.” He sighs, because what could he say to that? What hasn’t already been said in the slow fade of the bruises on her arms?

“Drink?”

“Yeah, please.”

It’s quiet between them for a while, each nursing a beer as the din around them lulls and lifts. He drums his fingers against his thigh, something steady while he tries to work a thick flood of words into something that might make sense, something that won’t make her recoil.

“Can I ask you about it?” She doesn’t look at him, focused on her thumbnail working the sticker off her bottle. But she does nod, lips pursed, long sigh like she needs to make room for what she’s about to say.

“All of it?”

“If you’re okay with that, yes.”

Yes, she’s okay with that. No, her husband wasn’t always the way he is now. He was kind until he wasn’t. Quiet until he wasn’t. The first time, silly. That’s what she calls it. A silly, stupid thing. The windshield of his car had gotten chipped while she was driving it. And she saw black with the way his hand guided her skull into the wall of their bedroom when she got home. Silly, she says, a wave of her palm like, no big deal, because not the worst of it. His stomach slurs and sickens.

She was a teacher, her lips curling around the memory like it tastes sweet. And then he told her to stop working. Command, not question. Gave her a careful fold of money each morning, like a child’s allowance, like a leash choked close and tight. What friends she had left told her to leave him, lovely sentiment, with what money? With what, with what, with what?

And then he got a gun. Waved it around like a second dick. A strange swagger, what the weight of such perfect destruction does in a man’s palms, slung on his hip, never far.

“Did he?”

“Once, right here.” Two fingers pressed to her temple, her eyes unblinking, expressionless. Though it’s gone just as quick, her fingers flexing and curling into a quick fist before settling back in her lap, unmaking memory.

She left then. With what, with what, with what? Nothing. A book in the passenger seat and a vague conception of the west meaning something like hope.

“You like to read?” Anything else will come out too harsh, too big with anger, so that will have to do. She seems relieved for it, shoulders settling and smoothing.

“Yes, I do.”

“We can get you a library card, if you want.”

“I’d like that.”

…

They go to the library the next day, and the man who works there just seems happy that there’s anyone new to give a library card to in the first place.

Dolores has already begun reading the first book in the small stack she checked out, quiet in the passenger seat the whole drive home. And later, when he leaves for his overnight shift, she’s on the couch, already halfway finished, lips parted and moving with the page.

“I’ll see you in the morning then.” Still startled by his voice, quick to shut her book and look at him, and like so many other times, he wishes he hadn’t said anything, had let her stay suspended in that ease.

“Alright, thank you again.” He’s still not very good at accepting that from her, a nod and a shrug of his shoulders, out the door.

Lately, these shifts have gotten tinged sour. Something anxious, something angry. Waiting, maybe. Willing. Wanting that car to come zipping past him on the black strip of the interstate. Wanting to chase it down. Wanting to do something that he shouldn’t want to do. He’ll come, he thinks. They always do. Men like that won’t give up the thing that makes them feel big so easily.

For now, Joel hunkers down in the car, radio off, quiet, waiting with all the other languoring animals for something that will sate. He replays what she told him in his mind, lets something dark curl around it, poison thoughts. But he has to ask himself why. All this care, all this concern, and all this anger, why? For a perfect stranger, who’s not really a stranger now. Been living around each other for nearly a month, so no, not a stranger anymore.

He likes her. An answer both simple and devastating at the same time. And is he just as bad as any other man? Finding a scared thing so very pretty. No, he cannot like her like that. He cannot like her like watching the rise and fall of her sternum, and he cannot like her like stealing glances of her every chance he can get. Because that is the last thing she needs. But care is allowed. Making something wrong the smallest bit right is allowed. A friend, a familiar thing, a comfort. All things he can do for her.

…

The sun is just starting to heft its golden belly over the mountains when he gets home, pale blue light and mist rising cool and shy in the brush. Usually, at this hour, she will already be up, making breakfast for the both of them that he always feels a bit bashful accepting.

But it’s quiet in the house this morning, still. Her book rests on one side of the couch, a rumpled blanket beside it. He doesn’t hear the old pipes groaning with the task of running water, the floorboards crackling with the fact of shuffling feet. And he shouldn’t but he does. Panic like a tight fist, like a heavy stone in his gut.

He knocks on her bedroom door, a quiet call of her name. Nothing. And he shouldn’t, but he does. So careful, so quiet in cracking open the door. Nothing. Bed still made, untouched. She must have spent the whole night on the couch. Why does that make his heart kick and quicken in his chest? The thought of her reading right through the darkness, the singular glow of the lamp tendriling out into the night.

Not here though. Did she? Could she? Would she? He feels drunk off this reality. But scared things have always been known to flee, haven’t they? To pretend at fragile trust until they find an opportunity to escape. Did she feel like she needed to escape from him? His palm tries to rub that thought out of his chest, real ache, real pain at the idea.

Fresh air, because his skull is already starting to throb with this. He steps out onto the porch and tries to imagine all the ways this leaving could have been done. He hates every possibility, every phantom flight that he can conjure. But no time to let it sting or steep, because laughter, a sudden, foreign peel of it. Hers, he’s never heard hers before. But there she is, rounding the corner of the coop, a few of the chickens following close on her heels, already their favorite between the two of them. And she’s talking to them, quiet murmurings from behind a smile, another quick burst of brightness.

“Hey, good morning.” Saying it to him, smiling at him, the biggest, best relief. He joins her, only a little grumble at the way the chickens squawk at his sudden intrusion.

“You figure out names for them yet?” One eye dropped in a squint in the brash wash of morning light, still smiling.

“I have some ideas, yeah.”

She’s here, how wonderful. And how awful, how quickly his heart seized and shuttered itself up at the thought of anything else. He can’t think about that too much, what that means. What danger that creates and threads through his ribs. So he focuses instead on breakfast, close in the kitchen, coffee for her with cream and a spoon of sugar, how he has found she likes it, silent sliding it across the counter to her where she’s stirring eggs in the pan. Always a thank you.

The table in the kitchen is so small that he has to keep his chair scraped back so his knees won’t brush against hers, making space for her to spread out.

“Thank you, for letting me stay so long. I know it’s not– you’re probably–” She stops herself, a sigh, chin tucked down. He could almost laugh, because here she is thanking him for what he was so afraid she didn’t want.

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad you’re here, for as long as you’d like to be.” Trying to make it clear that this is not a cage, though the words still feel thick and foolish coming out. She swallows a careful bite of her breakfast, not looking at him, and again, he finds himself bracing for flight.

“I like being here.”

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us #joel miller story #joel miller series #joel miller fic #joel miller au

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balltons · 1 month

Text

minors + ageless blogs dni

cw; violent threat towards reader, implied non-con (for the future), suggestive, mean f!reader, meaner johnny

getting this out my system real quick because i’m cooking something a bit longer in the meantime.

johnny who is bestowed with the job of protecting you, daughter of an esteemed political figure who has a hit on his head.

and by association, you do too.

however, instead of keeping you locked away in their big mansion, your father sends you to a safe house in scotland. after all, if he can’t reach you, how can the enemy?

so johnny stays with you in some shack on one of the less populated islands. even though he specializes in demolition, he’s a good guard dog; standing by each entrance and exit, his eyes zeroed in on any movement he catches in the window. it seemed like a good job, fairly low stakes, great pay. just taking care of a pretty little thing. there hardly seemed to be any downsides.

of course, till you opened your mouth.

you comment on his eating habits, snide comments about how he could consume the entirety of a bath and be hungry. you never fail to poke fun at his accent, calling him ‘incomprehensible’. and then you complain, wishing how you were anywhere but here, that despite the many people who want you and your father’s head on a stick, he should take you back so you can sleep in an actual bed rather than the rusty twin the safe house provides.

though, you aren’t the one sleeping on the floor, are you?

johnny could feel each of his nerves begin to snap the longer he stayed with you. he reset himself every day, trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. it was fear that gave you such a bad attitude, you were probably so scared, homesick even. this persona of you that he made was the only thing keeping him from shoving that silver spoon down your throat and making you choke on it.

that is, until one evening.

“i’m bored,” you groan for the nth time in the nth day in a row. johnny just rolls his eyes, looking through the sniper scope as he analyzes outside. when it all looks clear does he finally face you, a frown etched on his lips, “pity, should we tell th’ queen?” he asks dryly, walking over into the kitchen to crack open another can of soup. there’s only a few cans left, and he notes he’ll have to go back into town soon, preferably tomorrow.

you scoff, arms crossed over your chest as you stare up at him from the bed. “y’know, you can at least enunciate a bit more when you speak. i have a hard time understanding you as is,” you tell him, and johnny’s eye twitches. “duly noted, yer majesty.”

as he pours the soup in the can, you continue to blabber on, “i don’t know what my dad was thinking when he was hiring you. i mean, you’re barely qualified,” johnny’s mouth sets into a thin line, “you don’t even look like the type,” you say with a brief laugh.

his teeth begun to grind together, “lass, i’d ‘preciate some quiet-“

“if anything, you look like some mongrel off the street. dumb one at that,” you click your tongue, examining the state of your nails and writing a manicure on your to-do list for when you get back, “wouldn’t be surprised if that’s where you’re really from, doesn’t seem like you belong anywhere else.”

he doesn’t know what it is, maybe it’s the comparison you made, judging his accent, or calling him a homeless stray, but johnny finally snaps.

the soup is long forgotten on the stovetop as johnny walks over, approaching the bed. before you have even a chance to register what’s going on, johnny is on you, dragging you by the hair to bring you down to the floor.

you hit the hardwood with a grunt, eyes closing shut as your knees ache, “l-let go of me you bea-“ you barely have time to get the words out as johnny leads you with your hair, your face pressed against the front of his pants.

“listen tae me,” he growls, fingers tightening around your locks, “i’m about one grumble away from breaking yer jaw, dinnae look away,” he stresses as your eyes dart across the room. slowly, you force yourself to look at him, watching as johnny takes a deep breath.

“but, i will give ye a chance tae prove ye can do more wi' that mouth than just complain, sound fair?” when you remain still at his question, he shakes your head a bit, “i asked a question, princess.”

eagerly, you nod your head, fear compelling you to open your mouth as well, “i-it sounds fair, johnny, it- it does,” you agree, praying he doesn’t break your jaw to how nervous you are.

after what seems like an eternity, johnny lessens his grip on your hair, but he keeps you close to his clothed groin as he sits back into the bed. you’re forced to follow, on your knees in front of him.

“now,” he starts, his tone carrying a heavy weight despite the more playful tone he uses. he pushes your head back just a bit, his hand moving to his cargos, undoing the belt.

“let’s see what this bonnie mouth o' yers can do, aye?”

#john soap mactavish #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #guarddog!johnny #there will be more of him trust #cw violence #cw implied noncon #cw suggestive

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ariesqueencobra · 9 months

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what we used to be | V

Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your dad disapproves of Eli and Cobra Kai. You're also waiting on Eli to ask you out. Oh, you also get punched in the face.

Warnings: violence, blood, mentions of tattoos

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I think this chapter is cute! Make sure that if you want to see more of this story to comment and reblog! Comments let me know what you like about the story and reblogs help others see the story! Thanks!

I don't consent to this work being copied, translated or reposted.

“Junbi!” Sensei shouted.

You followed his directions, getting into the correct stance.

“Good, bow,” he slapped his hands against his outer thighs, watching as the class listened. “Fighting positions,” he held his fists up.

You watched him and yourself in the mirror when he instructed you to go through the motions. You felt proud as you were getting the hang of it, the gi you wore allowed you to blend in with the rest of the crowd, and for once, you didn’t feel out of place.

“Stabilize your base, Hawk,” Sensei kicked Eli’s foot out, making him grunt. “Keep your balance. Full rotation when you strike,” he demonstrated.

You watched before correcting your own mistake. But as Sensei continued to walk through the rows, you jumped when he neared you.

“Did you just flinch?” He asked you and you averted your gaze. He narrowed his gaze before checking out the rest of the class, and coming to a conclusion. “Holy shit, we got a room full of flinchers”.

“Yes, Sensei!”

You felt stupid for saying it, but your instinct told you that was the best response.

“That was not a question,” he shouted. “Raise your hand if you’ve never been punched in the face,” he asked and stared in amazement when everyone besides his first two students held their hand in the air.

The nerves that appeared in your stomach told you what your sensei was thinking. Your stomach dropped when it was right.

“All your life you’ve been avoiding fights so you don’t break your nose or lose a tooth,” he paced back and forth before stopping in the middle of the mat. “There’s only one solution and that is before you leave this dojo, each and every one of you is gonna take a punch, very hard, to the face,” he directed.

You gulped.

“Miss Robinson, line them up, unflinch this group,” he ordered before walking back to his office.

She hesitated, glancing at Miguel for support until she cracked her knuckles, beginning with you.

“Sorry, Y/N,” she sucked in a breath before reeling back her fist and knocking you square in the face.

The impact was hard.

You actually stumbled a few steps back as you held your nose. You felt a dribble of wetness on your upper lip and when you reached to wipe, you saw blood. The sight made you freak out, but as you assessed the rest of yourself, you realized you were okay.

You survived.

Still, the pain that radiated in your face was new and unwelcomed.

“Nice job, babe,” Eli grinned, patting you on the back. “Total badass”.

You smiled in response as you walked off the mat, grabbing a tissue from your backpack to help with the bleeding. You spent the rest of the time, waiting for Eli’s turn.

Every person faced Aisha’s punch, all of them groaning out in pain afterward. Some had already left class and finally, it was your boyfriend’s turn.

She punched him so hard he went flying. The gasp that escaped you was comical as you went over to his aid.

“He’s okay!” Aisha shouted.

“I’m fine,” he groaned, doubling over as he struggled to get up.

You grabbed him by the arm, hosting him up as you led him back to the front.

“That was intense,” Eli said, rubbing his shoulder where he landed on the mat.

“Tell me about it,” you giggled but immediately stopped when that caused pain to erupt. “Wanna head back to my house?” You touched your nose, seeing that the blood was stopping.

“Sure, maybe we could spar a little, some one on one,” he smirked, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You felt your face heat up as you began to walk towards your bikes. “That’d be fun,” you grinned.

Once you were back at your house, you were glad to see that your parents weren’t home from work yet. You made your way to the fridge to grab a few drinks and snacks for you and Eli before you made your way to the back.

“Sensei is training us hard, but I kinda like the challenge,” you smirked, handing Eli his drink.

“Same, I never felt more badass than I do now,” he raised a brow. “So you ready?”

“Ready,” you raised your fists.

It was fun more than anything, to be honest.

You kept your focus on your stance but it was enjoyable getting to mess around with your boyfriend on the grass.

“You’re going too easy on me,” you giggled when you dodged a punch that was easy to block.

“Well I don’t want to hurt you,” he smiled, ducking when you swung your arm.

“Oh, c’mon, I took that punch without a sweat, you went flying,” you snorted.

“The details don’t need to be recounted,” he dismissed, making you laugh again.

Without another thought, you tackled Eli, making him fall onto his back on the grass. The look on his face was priceless before you swung your leg over him so you hovered above him. “I win,” you smirked, reaching down to peck his lips.

“What the hell is going on here?” Your father's voice boomed in the backyard.

Your eyes widened and you were quick to get off of Eli.

“Hi, Dad,” you ran your hand over your hair, gulping down the awkwardness.

“Hi, sir, we were just practicing karate,” Eli jumped up, standing beside you.

“Karate?” He looked puzzled. “Since when did you join karate?” He glanced at you.

“A week ago,” you answered. “Mom said it was okay,” you added.

“Wait here, I’m not done with whatever is going on between you two,” he jutted a finger at the space between you and Eli.

“Hang on,” you touched Eli’s arm before heading inside.

You entered the kitchen, hearing your parents' voices as they spoke to each other.

“She wanted to join karate, you know it’s hard for her at school with the bullies,” your mom reasoned, prepping the vegetables in the sink.

“You know how I feel about karate,” your dad said, his hands placed on his hips.

Your mom rolled her eyes. “Our daughter’s never been more confident,” she retorted. “You know she’s on a good path,” her gaze softened.

You took a step forward, still not being known by your parents. The creak of the floorboard turned their attention to you.

“It’s true,” you began. “I really like karate,” your voice lightened.

“What’s the dojo?” Your dad asked.

“Cobra Kai,” you stated.

The way his disapproving face changed to one of fear piqued your interest, but his next words made you forget about that thought. “Absolutely not,” he shook his head. “You’re quitting,” he ordered.

Your mouth fell open and you glanced at your mom who had a “you're serious?” look. “Why not?” You whined.

He stepped away, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You didn’t know what it was like growing up with Cobra Kai in the Valley, their students were a menace, it was a good thing they got banned in ‘85,” he explained. “You don’t know Cobra Kai like I do,” he huffed out.

You knew there was more to the story, but you couldn’t pinpoint it at the moment. Knowing you wanted to keep your position at Cobra Kai more than anything, you kept your mouth shut with the questions.

“It’s different now,” you reasoned. “Sensei Lawrence is turning us into badasses, not losers,” you frowned. “I mean look at Eli” you pointed out into the backyard where he was practicing some positions.

Your parents followed your gaze and your mother made a sound of approval but your dad was quick to dismiss it.

“He looks like he’s on his way to becoming an ass,” he turned back to look at you. “And now what? You’re dating him?” He scoffed, his features telling you dating the boy you had a crush on for the last decade was the most offensive thing you could ever do.

“He’s not an ass,” you rolled your eyes. “And, as a matter of fact, I am,” you crossed your arms over your chest, finding the confidence to hold your stance.

“I don’t approve, of him or the karate,” he waved his hands out in front of him. “I want you to end things with him,” he pointed at your boyfriend.

“Dad?! No!” You scoffed. “I’m not ending things with Eli and I’m not leaving Cobra Kai,” you defended.

“Then you’re grounded,” he stated, point blankly.

“Mom!” You turned to her.

She sucked in a breath, placing a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “Eli’s a good kid, we both know that,” she began. “As for Cobra Kai, maybe this is a lesson she needs to figure out on her own,” she shrugged. “But no matter what, we’re gonna be there for her, right?” She pressed a smile, lightening her tone in hopes that it got him to change his mind.

After a beat of silence, he inhaled deeply. “Fine, you can keep dating the kid. But there won’t be any more unsupervised visits and your door has to be open at all times,” he raised a finger, tone firm. “As for Cobra Kai, I want to tell you right now, I don’t trust that it’s changed one bit so be careful, okay?” He warned.

You gulped. Part of you wanted to take his warning seriously, but the other part of you was relieved that he agreed. With a smile on your face, you ran up to your parents, engulfing them in a hug.

“Thanks, guys,” you breathed out, pressing a kiss to both their cheeks.

You pulled away, running out to the backyard to meet Eli.

“They approve,” you beamed. “Of you and Cobra Kai!” You admitted.

He faltered. “Wait, me? They didn’t approve of me?”

“My mom has always, but you know how my dad is,” you shrugged, grabbing his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “But it’s all okay now,” you reached over to kiss him on the cheek.

“Awesome,” he grinned.

You were stretching between Aisha and Hawk when Miguel began talking about his “not-a-date” with Samantha LaRusso.

It was cute seeing him get all excited for it but your heart sank when you realized he was going on a date before you and he wasn’t even dating anyone!

The thought made you sigh out loud but it went ignored as Miguel droned on.

“I need somewhere romantic but not too romantic,” he contemplated.

You snickered when Aisha rolled her eyes. About to open your mouth to speak, Eli beat you to it.

He jumped up on his feet, undoing his belt before shrugging the material off. “You could take her to get tattoos. I know a guy, who just hooked me up with this bad boy,” he said as he turned around.

Your eyes went wide.

Oh shit.

“That is badass,” Aisha said.

You were silent, in complete shock. You couldn’t believe your boyfriend got a tattoo without telling you.

“Fourteen hours in the chair,” he stated.

You shook your head in disbelief but a crease formed between your brows when you recalled the day he was MIA. “Is that why you canceled on me?” You asked, feeling kind of offended.

“Sorry about that babe, I wanted to surprise you,” he quickly apologized as he tied the belt again, sitting down and kissing you quickly. “Also don’t tell my parents,” he added.

You snorted at that.

“Any other suggestions?” Miguel pivoted the conversation back to its main focus.

“Maybe do something she likes,” you suggested. “Or dinner and a movie, maybe a picnic on the beach, those would be my ideal first date,” you emphasized, sending a look towards Eli.

“Kinda corny,” Miguel disagreed.

“I’m out of options then,” you sighed, focusing back on your stretching as your mind thought to the possibility of going on your first date with Eli.

It made sense to go on a date at this point in the relationship. You had been dating for longer than a week, you kissed several times. What’s the hold-up?

That question plagued you for the rest of class so much you didn’t realize you were walking out of the dojo.

“Good luck on your not-a-date,” Aisha wished Miguel. “See ya later, guys,” she bid you and Eli.

“You’ve been quiet since Miguel brought up his girl problems, did he get you too depressed?” He chuckled, wrapping his arm around you.

“No,” you shook your head. “Just the date talk got me thinking,” you shrugged, glancing down.

“About what?” He asked, pulling his bike off the rack.

“Nothing,” you opted to answer.

Riding your bike home alongside him was the highlight of your afternoon, but today you were quiet. It felt like the Halloween dance all over again but you didn’t want a repeat of that. Still, you weren’t sure how to bring it up without sounding desperate.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Eli,” you reached over to kiss him goodbye.

He nodded, waiting by the curb until you entered your house. “Y/N!” He shouted.

You paused fishing out your keys from your bag. “Yeah?”

“I want to take you out, officially,” he smirked.

“Really?” You didn’t even try to hide your excitement, dropping your things and running towards him. “Where?”

“It’s a surprise,” he shrugged. “But tomorrow, seven alright? I’ll pick you up,” he said.

“Okay,” you agreed, beaming with happiness as you grabbed his face to kiss him before you went back to your dropped things. You waved at him before shutting the door behind you.

You were going on your first date!

#eli moskowitz x reader #hawk x reader #eli moskowitz #eli moskowitz imagine #cobra kai

121 notes · View notes

ai-luni · 2 years

Note

Another anon who is lowkey (highkey) a whore for Hesh here 🥰

Birthday sex followed by a "oh you can't walk?" Sort of next day?

This is a Hesh whore house, you're very welcome here!

It's His Birthday

David "Hesh" Walker x Fem!Reader

A/N: This became much longer than I thought it would end up. Please excuse how dramatic I get when I have to write smut. Also why there are so many similes, idk i'm sorry. Mystery for the ages.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: smut. Straight up. Overstimulation.

Where it started:

5:00pm, San Diego, Hesh’s birthday.

You were parked outside of a restaurant with a large dinner reservation for the two of you and the rest of the ghosts. The plan was to meet at 5 but now it was 15 past and you were desperately trying to reapply your lipstick while Hesh spat at the taste of a makeup wipe in the driver's seat.

“You’re not meant to eat it.” You gave the snarky comment once satisfied with your lipstick, now turning your attention to the boy that was basically sucking on the thing. Snatching the wipe out of his hand, you cleaned the coloured residue lining his lips. Gently, his gaze was fixed, mesmerised by the way your freshly coloured lips parted in concentration.

You held the cold wipe to his chin as you lifted his head up, allowing himself to close his eyes now that he no longer had a good view of you. Instead enjoy the feeling of your fingers outlined by the rag, over, across, under his chin. Enough to pull an erotic groan from his throat. You couldn’t be any later without raising suspicion but fuck if the way his adam’s apple bobbed didn’t make you want to give up and drive into a alleyway.

“How’d we manage to get it on your chin?” With a long restrained sigh, he looked back down at you. The silence was so deafening, you had to cough out a giggle to break the tension. The intensity of his gaze didn’t crack though. Instead he gave you that stupid ‘I have you in the palm of my hand’ smirk, eyebrows raised.

“Let’s do it again and find out.”

You weren’t going to let him win this one.

You left him, one foot after the other out of the car. Topped off with a slow spin around to face him once more. Shoulders dipped enough to peak at the boy readjusting his belt. You thought about retorting with some kind of witty comeback but just seeing the man you loved in that suit. That white button up and those navy trousers. It wipes your mind clear.

“I’m not wearing any panties.”

5:25

Finally you dragged him into the restaurant, all the boys cleaned up real nice. Merrick was still wearing jeans but sometimes you just have to pick your battles. They all stood and made a controllable racket. A soft chorus of “Finally!” “Hey you two!” “Where have you been!” “Took you long enough!” welcomed you as you and Hesh were being guided to the back of the place.

It was Elias who greeted you two first, giving you a hug and passing you to Logan. When he met Hesh however, he let out a hearty chuckle. You could hear the pat on his back reverberate through him as they both beamed with proud smiles.

“Happy birthday my boy.”

And down the line until you found your seats.

6:57

To say you had a few drinks would be an understatement, some of you already finishing your third of the night. The waitress for your table seemed a little intimidated by the rows of large men now getting rowdier by the glass, she would approach the table by your side which gave you the perfect opportunity to ask for the cake. She gave you a little nod, taking away as many plates as she could.

Half of the table was absorbed in a conversation you couldn’t really be bothered to make out but amongst the smiles and cheers, you didn’t really mind. You were certain they were the loudest guests this restaurant would have in a good while. The boys were too hesitant with the flashiness of the place at first but the food was good, the drinks were good, the place was clean and the people were nice. It was all worth the treat.

You just allowed yourself to sit back and enjoy the ecstasy of the moment. Your left hand subconsciously rests on the back of Hesh’s right tricep, tracing where the bottom star is tattooed on his skin with your pointer finger. His attention squares in on you within a second, phasing out of the conversation and in your bubble with ease.

“You alright, doll?” He breathes out, dragging the corners of his lips up with it.

“Yeah.”

“I could get used to seeing you like this. Should take you out more.”

“You treat me just fine as it is.” With that you cross your leg, skirt riding up in the process. Your nail now trailing over his shoulder blade and he shivered in response, just as you were anticipating. He wanted to retaliate, he wanted to get you back the way you were playing him. You could see it in his eyes as he forced them not to lock on one place too long on you but his mouth went dry. He only licked his lip, considering what he possibly could say from his repertoire of ‘things that wind you up’ that wouldn’t get him in trouble in front of his family and team.

He was saved by the cake.

He rolled his eyes as the rest of you raised your drinks to him, all the attention placed on him solely. The waitress reached over your shoulder to place it in front of the man now holding his face from embarrassment. Another waiter pulled out a lighter for the few candles you brought to put on top. The rest of the table was too busy adding fuel to your own fire.

“Happy birthday to yoOuUuU!” You moved to Logan’s shoulder seeing who could sing the best, most obnoxious riff. Hesh’s eyes - though his face was red - were filled with pure adoration. Adopting the exact proud expression his father makes, like all of his dreams have been fulfilled and preserved on a silver platter.

“Make a wish, baby!” You yelled once the lot were done singing off key, to which he complied. His smile only grew wider, looking directly into your pupil before blowing out the candles. The waitress took the cake away again to slice it. You finally returned to your seat with a hand immediately resting on your thigh.

“Thank you, doll.” He gave you a squeeze and your head was sent into a spin. It was the moment you knew you’d made it over the peak of the night and now the thought of him taking you home again was just over the horizon. You couldn’t think of anything else.

It was another hour of cake and coffee before goodbyes were said. And only one thing dwindled in your thoughts. His hand was on you the rest of the night, under the table, in the car and up to the door of your apartment.

The warm palm on the small of your back was intoxicating, cologne still strong and suffocating. You could only hold your confidence for so long until the only thing holding your hips up was him holding you up.

8:49

The keys jingled in your grip, you couldn’t control them, your hands were shaking. Somehow you knew the moment that door closed, it’d be the beginning of your ruin. You tried to play the game with him but he was too good, you knew he played you right into his hands. The touches, the looks, the smiles, the smell, the comfortable silence. You were in the eye of the storm and anticipation was never one to calm a heartbeat.

His hand cupped your hip, moving you over enough to take the key and unlock the door for you. But he didn’t open it, not yet. The sound was enough to wake Riley though, faintly through the door was the sound of scurrying paws across the floor and the thud of his nose to the door.

You felt paralysed as he pushed your back against the door. Hands to hips, the man towered over you, a wicked grin setting across his face, lighting up his eyes. His left hand travelled to your thigh, guiding itself inside the tight fabric to your hip. Confirming there was in fact no strap. He just groaned and dug his nails into you like he teeth did your lower lip.

Your hands were gripping the growing hair behind his ears. Soft lips over yours like nuzzling your head into a pillow. Neck craning to keep your lips locked longer, just a little longer. A shadow of smoke from the volcano, mixing your warm breaths and the air from your nostrils turns to an eruption, his burning tongue to your upper lip, lapping up the dripping saliva from your teeth to your own tongue.

A burning metal rod wouldn’t feel as intense as he did to you, hands grasping at the flesh that joins your ass and back. One steadied under and the other over the dress pulling you closer to him.

You pulled your head back a millimetre and his neck acted on instinct, reconnecting your lips with the clunk of your noses colliding, teeth grazing each other’s for not even a quarter of a second but the nerves on the bottom of your feet could feel it. You needed more, you couldn't stop. A moan partially made it out of your mouth, and the momentum you’ve built endures the more he lifts his head.

The fingers of his left hand knead your bare skin, the other arm bracing itself on the door. You kissed his chin like it could kissing back, soon dragging your tongue in a straight line down Adam's apple to his collarbone.

“Shit.” He spat out.

With your face buried in the crook of his head, his forehead fell forward knocking on the door. Riley’s continuous sniffing under the crack of the door, restless tippy taps reacted quicker than expected, letting out an alarmed bark. The both of you brought back to reality. This was a communal hallway and he almost had you half naked.

“David, we have to go inside.” Your forehead was now resting on his heaving chest with a clear view of the tent in his pants. He only shook his head, still resting against the door. He slowly dragged his fingertips out of your dress, not bothering to readjust it back down. He brought his own palm to his crotch as you watched.

He thought about you, his hand petting through the trousers fabric like he has many times before and your name slipped through his lips out of habit. His skin was hot, his skin was burning and any noise he made was more out of impatience than it was from pleasure.

“It’s my birthday.” Was all he said as he pushed you further into the door. Another knock caused the excited dog on the other side to bark again.

“Fine.” He sighed, defeated and desperate.

You pulled away from each other, skin dripping with sin it almost stained the concrete floor you stood on. He couldn’t help it, he glanced at the two other doors on your floor. A smile suggesting they’re in for it just as long as you are. And with a cheeky slap to the ass, he followed you inside.

9:07

“Hey boy.” Hesh greeted Riley, giving his coat a gentle ruffle and a solid pat to the side. The shepherd dog circled him then ran by your side to say hello. Satisfied, he left you two in the kitchen to lay back down in the living room.

You turned on the kettle. His eyes snapped to you with almost a hint of venom.

“What are you doing?” he asked, slow tactical steps approaching the island like he was clearing a room.

“Making a tea.” It took everything within you to keep your composure, your dress barely covered your crotch and was bunched at your waist, your lipstick now a faint haze around your lips. You turn to look at him, arms crossed like he hadn’t just pulled you to bits in the hallway. “You want one?”

He stood in disbelief, certain he had already won. Certain he had whittled you down to nothing but the prize in the middle of a parcel, yet here you were still playing. In truth, your stomach was completely twisted, you were scared and evaluating what, if anything, you had to do tomorrow and if it would actually be plausible to complete. Even the coloured marks down his stained chin and neck did nothing but make you groan in the back of your throat.

That was his last straw, he couldn’t stall it anymore.

9:14

“You’re fucking ridiculous.” You were over his shoulder, the boiling of the kettle fainter and fainter as you entered the bedroom. You were tossed onto the bed over at least two metres. His footsteps heavy, ripping his shirt off by the button.

He ate it up, every bit of it. Your big doe eyes, parted lip, dazed eyelids with blown out pupils bound to roll back second. He held your ankle in his hand, undoing the fiddly little strap of your heel. You began on the other foot but he only swatted your hand away.

“I’m a big boy. I can do it.”

When he was done with one, he threw the shoe over his shoulder and your leg to the side of the bed. Same with the other foot, leaving your legs wide open and dress completely collected on your waist.

He’d been waiting all day for this, all month. This wasn’t the first time he had you this week but today it just felt different and he had to make sure you felt it.

He held his arms out, gripping your ankles to get a good look at your pantiless pussy. You felt a gust of warm air as he let out a sigh. The man licks his lips, a feral instinctive look in his eye. But he wanted to ease you into it. As much as he wanted it now, he knew it would be so much fun if he took his time.

What he did want right that second however was that dress off you. Hands now gripping your hips, he yanks you forward off the bed, resting all your weight on him. He was now on his knees as well as he brought you into a searing kiss. A bruising rough..

His fingers were clawing at the bottom of your dress, peeling it off until you stopped him at your ribcage.

“There’s a zipper in the back.” With that you turned on your knees for him. He zipped it without a second thought.

Just the sight of you stepping out of your dress like it was nothing, like it wasn’t driving him absolutely mad. The sight of you swaying that ass in front of his face.

He needed his pants off. Now.

You hadn’t even turned around to see him before a hand pushed your naked back forward over the bed. With your head now on the bed in front of you, you looked back between your legs to see your boy, unbuckling his belt at rapid speed. He’d just started at the button on his trousers and in anticipation, you swayed your hips a little more in clear view for him.

“Shit.” He grunted, instantly latching his warm tongue to your thigh. His actions were so impulsive, like it was this or death. Licking a trail of arousal that had been falling down your thigh since you made it into the apartment. Then he dove straight into the layers of your pussy.

You watched with half lidded eyelids as he pulled his dick out, pants still on and too impatient to yank his boxers down properly.

9.46

“Oh god” you cried out, pussy throbbing against his tongue as it ran across your vulva like sorting through a filing cabinet. The clicking of saliva echoed through the room, moving his tongue at a rapid speed. His breath laced with his vocal chords with every huff and grunt and slurp. Lips enveloping your pussy like a last meal.

Then his tongue found your clit, his nose nudging your entrance, breathing in your arousal. He circled it, tongue pointed, muscle tensed.

“Oh my- David!” your hips bucking against him, you needed more.

“Say it again, doll” He shoved his tongue into your vagina, scraping any service he could find. The taste soaking into the layers of his taste buds and you clamped around him.

You only opened your eyes for a moment to see him jerking himself off with one hand, his other hand was on your ass but you were so enthralled with the pleasure, you couldn’t care to notice.

The noises were absurd, you were drooling. And yet his name never stayed on the tip of your tongue too long, jumping out whenever it could until you started chanting for more until there wasn’t anything else to ask for.

“Come on, baby. Come on, doll.” He whispers into your pussy, his breath lighting every nerve like a control board of buttons. You felt him everywhere, the tight rope in your stomach pulling you up and down, tightening and squeezing. Your orgasm coming in as hot as a blowtorch and his kiss broke the creme brulee crust. The sticky, slurping of his folded lips, his tongue lining and carding through you. It was almost a cooling sensation. An anecdote.

But it kept coming and coming, like a lag in all your pleas for more but each finally being fulfilled one after another. And he drank it all. Any fluid you gave him, he drank it and enjoyed it. Himself almost let go but he pulled his hand off him whenever he felt close to the edge. He didn’t want to slow down so he needed to stay a little more comfortable.

9:52

“David, DAVID” You were clawing at the bed sheets for your dear life. Your spine jerking like a child safety lid turned the wrong way. Cranking to something that had already long happened but kept going. The movement was so involuntary you cried out to him.

“DaVID I came! I came already!” Your voice was muffled in the sheets, your tears staining the sheets. He only pulled away for a second.

“More.”

And he was back at it, one hand still barely working on himself while the other was back on your foot. His thumb deeply massaging into the sole of your foot.

All you could think of was David, all he could think of was you.

Your stomach hollowed and you were on the verge of screaming. Your pussy burnt but continued to leak for him.

He got you again. Your knees buckled and he caught you with both hands keeping you steady. You spasmed and stuttered through your who knows what numbered orgasm, voice desperate to say something, anything, with no breath to do so.

“Shit baby, almost there.” You could’ve sworn you had squirted on him. Your stomach muscles contracting and releasing by the millisecond, toes flexed. You saw white spots, fluctuating and flashing just for you.

10:05

The soonest moment you physically could, you gasped for air. Climbing onto the bed before the boy could catch you. You were still trembling, hips bucking into nothing, lips wide open and you wouldn’t dare open your eyes yet.

You only heard him chuckle and felt him fall on the bed next to you.

“You’re done huh?” he asked, voice too amused for his own neglected state. You only nodded your head while trying to catch your breath and regulate the tears falling from your eyes.

“Sure you don’t have another one in you?” You shook your head with what energy you had left. You knew it was going to happen again tonight anyway but for this moment, you had no capacity to think or speak. He pulled you to his chest, pants still shamelessly riding his thighs. You laid on top of him, fighting against your body curling up on itself.

He stroked your hair. He kissed the crown of your head and closed his eyes in content. Mouth wet and covered in your arousal.

You could feel how hot he was, you could feel how hard he was. You were slowly regaining your conscious mind and after all, it was his birthday.

“Just give me a minute.” you sighed out into his chest and joined him in enjoying the satisfaction of the moment.

5:30am

There was a gentle clawing at the door. In the grogginess of what you think was just about 4 hours of sleep, Riley woke you up. It’s still pretty early, both you and Hesh being early risers but Hesh still looked completely out cold so you knew you’d have to deal with Riley this morning.

Your body ached. Sore in places that hadn’t been felt in a good while. You tried to move as slowly as you could, both not to wake David up and because it would be too painful to move too quickly. Your left foot was completely asleep, nerves turned off that it almost made you consider just not getting up at all. But Riley’s whimpers pressured you up anyway.

One foot at a time you dragged your legs off the mattress. Your hips ached like a raging siren. Any time your panties shifted and grazed you in a certain spot, a gasp left your lips before you could stop it.

Just take it slow, you’re not that pathetic.

Holding the bedside table for dear life, you tried to stand up. Right foot taking all your weight. Now take a deep breath.

Testing the waters, you shift your weight, hoping to balance it out. Tripping over nothing, you are just hobbling into the wall.

“Ow.” You let out louder than intended. “Shit”

There was a rustling of fabric behind you, you looked over your shoulder cautiously, not daring to make a sound. Your mission failed, Hesh was awake.

“Why’s Riley crying?” His voice was groggy, it was sexy. He didn’t roll over so you felt safe if you kept quiet.

“He has to go to the bathroom.” You let out, trying not to reveal any of the pain you were feeling.

“What time is it?” He was sitting up now. You felt so dumb, you knew he would be way too cocky for the rest of the day if he knew just how much he ruined you. He begun to turn around when you didn’t reply, “Hey, are you alri-”

And there you were, clenching the wall for dear life, legs trembling uncontrollably. Skin hot and red and bruised, hair a mess with residue lipstick colour staining your swollen and bruised lips.

“Oh.” there was that wicked smirk again. He knew he won the game and took the prize. He made his bed and slept in it. It definitely woke him up though. Who cares if he still had lipstick staining his chin too.

He got out of the bed, chucking on a shirt and a pair of pants. Passing you with a kiss to the cheek.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” With that he left you holding the wall. You listened as he took Riley outside, took him into the kitchen and then like it was in slow motion, you heard every step he took back to the bedroom.

You hadn’t moved a muscle, you weren’t sure you could. And he chuckled and it made you mad but you laughed with him.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, doll.” The rest of the morning was spent in his arms. He held you up in the shower, he carried you to the kitchen counter. Whatever you thought you might get done today definitely was going to happen. But a day was never a waste if it was spend with Hesh.

#cod #call of duty #call of duty ghosts #david hesh walker #hesh #hesh walker #hesh walker x you #hesh walker x reader

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wordspinning · 3 months

Text

I love these two so much

Tommy and Maria

Scene under cut (from The Stars Incline Us, Chapter 46)

Maria breathes in the rich scent of sandalwood and pine, lathering the bar soap between her palms before running her hands through Tommy’s hair. He lays with his head off the edge of the cot over a bucket of sudsy water, lashes heavy against the bruises beneath his eyes. She works the soap all the way to the ends of each curl, rinses with water so hot it stings the inside of her wrists, and steam rises into the chill air. The splash of water and the steady, ragged draw of his breath are the only sounds to permeate the quiet alcove. Neither of them break the silence for another twenty minutes as she teases the snags out, until his curls are soft and smooth through her fingertips, finishes toweling them dry and gathers them into a low half-knot.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, glancing up through those dark lashes to meet her gaze in the liminal glow of the flame.

“Of course.” She breathes through the ache coalescing in her throat, comes around the edge of the bed, helps him sit up, slow and easy. The tubes just came out yesterday, and he’s plenty sore.

He’s punished for the change in position, the cough rattling up from the base of his lungs like a runaway train. She climbs onto the cot, sits facing him with her knees at his elbows as he braces his ribs and folds forward into her embrace. She traces the knots of his spine in a long row, each one prominent even through the thick knit of his pullover, and forces the ebb and flow of her own breath to come steady as he goes a second round, then a third. When the cough is finally placated, he rests his head on her collarbone and catches his breath in short, tearing gasps.

“Fuck—“ A chimera of a sob, a groan, and a short, vicious laugh catches in his throat. His shoulders collapse as he curls a little tighter around his injured ribs; he’s a good deal more tender on his left side, and they suspect he managed to crack a rib or two. Maria settles her palm over his knuckles as he braces the injury, ducks her head and lets her tears be wicked away by the soft brush of his wool sweater against her cheeks. She slings her other arm up over his shoulders and holds him close.

After a long few minutes, the tension in his shoulders begins to slip, and the rasp of air in his lungs quiets a little. He sniffs, straightens gingerly, offering her a weak half smile, and his brow knits as his gaze shifts to the evidence of tears still lingering on her cheeks.

“Hey, now.” He grimaces, voice low and torn and a little breathless still as he leaves his injured ribs to return her embrace.

“Tommy.” She rests her forehead lightly against his, still warm with fever, and draws a breath that shudders all the way down. The stricture in her throat tightens until the ache becomes piercing, swallowing her words.

“I know,” he murmurs, his palm gentle between her shoulderblades. And he does. She knows he does.

“How did we get here?” Maria places a quiet request, tears slipping from the ends of her lashes as she closes her eyes.

His breath catches in his throat. She feels the brush of his hand at her cheek. “I’m so sorry, darlin.”

She opens her eyes, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, a hand gentle on the back of his neck. “Do you have anything to be sorry for?” She asks the question honestly, and Tommy meets it with a flinch, diverting his gaze to the dance of the flame on the wall beside them, the corner of his mouth tightening. He does not answer.

“What did Joel say to you?” Maria fights to keep her voice soft, asking for his gaze with a thumb across the ridge of his cheek, and when he turns back to her, his eyes are dark and wounded.

“Nothin’ that made any difference,” he says. The words twist around her heart, wrenching her.

“You sure about that?” she asks, not waiting for a response. “Tommy, I saw how he looked at Miguel, before you left. I know he wasn’t thinkin’ straight.”

He measures a slow breath. “Didn’t say he was. Neither was I.”

“Did he tell you he would take Ellie?”

His wince deepens as he drags his teeth across his lower lip. “He was scared. Wasn’t— I shoulda waited him out.”

Maria searches his face, pressing a knuckle to her lips as she fights the sting of tears once more. “Would you still have gone, if he hadn’t said it?”

He closed his eyes, releases a laden breath, and under it, a nearly imperceptible groan. “I don’t know.”

When he opens them, she’s heartsick to find something like shame, perhaps fear, raging in the shadows. She doesn’t speak, sensing the words building in his chest, but offers him a sorrowful smile, tracing the line of his cheek, softly drawing him back to her, but it’s too little too late. His eyes darken with a familiar haunt.

“I didn’t— *Damnit.*” He drops his head, fingers at the bridge of his nose as tears catch in his throat. “He took her and ran— if I’d been there— just a little sooner—”

Maria breathes against the ache that blooms beneath her sternum at his confession. She knows enough to understand he’s talking about Outbreak Day. She has no idea if Joel has ever attempted to absolve him of this guilt, and even if he has, she doesn’t know that Tommy would have accepted it.

She presses a kiss to his temple and guides his head to her shoulder; it takes him longer to regather his composure than he would have allowed on another day. She can feel his exhaustion, the way he collapses into her embrace, the reawakening of his fever as the afternoon wanes, and guilt pierces her chest, resonant and aching. She should not have asked this of him today.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she murmurs, threading her fingers through his hair, releasing the tie she just placed to comb loose the still-damp curls, soothing herself and him.

“No,” he replies softly, withdrawing to meet her gaze, brow knit with regret. “I’m sorry, Mari. You’ve got a right to be angry, darlin’.”

She’s at war with herself for a long moment, searching for the words which will soothe them both.

“I know you’re tired, sweetheart. You gotta let us fight some battles for you.”

He nods wearily, defeated, but she’s not convinced he’s really hearing her, too caught up in the story in his head.

“Tommy, listen to me,” she says, lacing her fingers tightly through his. “I know your brother has his moments, and speaking of battles, I’ll gladly wring his neck the next time he tries to get under your skin like that— but I saw those radio logs, him tryin’ to convince you to turn around and come home to us. Tommy, I wish you’d listened.”

She wishes that more than anything, she thinks, as she wraps her arms around him, resting her chin on his shoulder, a hand cradling the back of his head, holding him close. She wishes she couldn’t still feel the heat of the fever pouring off of him, see the ever-present pain in his dark eyes, hear the ragged, aching draw of his breath as he tries not to cough against fresh stitches and torn muscles and broken ribs and wounded lungs. She wishes she’d said more to him that day, wishes she’d found the words to silence his guilt, his fear— She wishes she could protect him from every gnashing set of teeth that seeks a pound of flesh.

“You act like you owe us something, sweetheart, but you don’t,” she continues, steadying herself with a breath. “None of us— I don’t know a single person who wasn’t heartsick to see what kinda shape you were in when you walked in here— Jacob excepted,” she interrupts herself with a quiet, tearful laugh. “Nobody’s asking of you what you’re asking of yourself. You can rest. You can tell us when it hurts, darlin’—“ she fights the swell of emotion in her throat, pulls away just enough to meet his eyes. “You know you mean the whole damn world to me, don’t you?” She waits for him to nod, tears in his eyes to match her own, and presses a soft kiss to his forehead. “Rest, cariño. Get your head on straight. Let us take care of you once in a while.”

He breathes a short, sorrowful chuckle, closes his eyes, drops his head back to her shoulder. She holds him, and he settles deep into her embrace, arms tightening around her waist.

“I love you,” he murmurs, hoarse.

“I love you too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hush.” She soothes him with another kiss, and they hold each other for a long few minutes. When his exhaustion starts to get the better of him, she helps him lay down and curls up beside him, tucking her head to his chest as he runs a palm up and down her arm. She waits for him to settle, for his hand to slip from her shoulder and his breath to steady in sleep, and then she laces her fingers through his and allows herself to follow him, at long last, into the gentle dark.

#tsiu #Tommy miller #Maria miller #TLOU fanfiction #TLOU fanfic #TLOU fanart #meradrawsstuff

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halsins-herbal-underpants · 6 months

Text

Control, Chapters 1+2

Halsin/Tav (Named Original Male Character)

Dayan | Seldarine drow Ranger

Rating: Explicit 18+

PWP, D/s, Sub Halsin, Bottom Halsin

CW: Rough Oral (hair pulling, deep throat, gagging), Light Bondage

Kinks: Scent kink, face-sitting, face-fucking, biting, scratching, knotting, inappropriate use of Polymorph

Read Chapters 3+4 on Tumblr

Read on Ao3

Approx. 5300 words

Dayan (Tav) needs some time to himself after the victory against Ketheric, the win a bittersweet one after learning the truth about the Absolute. His lover Halsin goes after him however, reluctant to leave the troubled drow alone. They decide to relax together and share a pipe --though due to Dayan's special blend, relaxing soon becomes the last thing on their minds. Dayan decides he wants to give a bit more than receive this time around, and Halsin obliges happily. Dayan takes time to indulge in his lover's body in way he hasn't gotten to really experience -- at least, not for a very, very long time.

Light D/s fic where Halsin gets to experience submissiveness in safety and love and Dayan gets some catharsis for the very, very difficult month he's had.

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Dayan knew he was in desperate need of a break.

There was a restlessness under the ranger's skin that no amount of exertion or excitement could quell; not the fighting nor hunting nor near-death misses of Reithwin, nor victory beneath Moonrise, nor even the difficult hike to Baldur's Gate. Whatever physical exhaustion he pushed his body to, Dayan’s heart and soul remained gripped in anxiety.

It made the drow feel unsettled and ill at ease even in camp, even in this quiet moment when his beloved group of unlucky misfits could set down tents and relax without worry of goblin or githyanki or cultist attack. At least he was rather good at keeping his discomfort hidden from his companions, for a little while.

But when the stalwart little family finally made it through the trials of the shadow-cursed lands and arrived at the abandoned outpost on the outskirts of Baldur's Gate, Dayan found his usual calm mask cracking a little. It was quiet their first night there and when the moon rose, he found himself standing atop the outpost's makeshift tower, staring out over the Chionthar. Watching and quietly shivering in the dark.

The twinkling lights of the city illuminated sparkling dots of gold and silver across the wide river, stretching far into the distance until they were swallowed up by black. Dayan thought of how far they'd come and how far they had yet to go...and what was awaiting them on their arrival. A chill ran down his back, brows furrowing as he stared at the huge expanse of civilization. Rows upon rows of buildings and streets and people, so crushingly close.

His fingers twitched, a jolt of sudden claustrophobia making his nerves hum uncomfortably even as he was surrounded by nothing but crisp evening air and stars overhead.

Dayan turned away quickly and got himself back down to solid ground. The view was causing bile to rise up in the back of his throat; his skin felt like it wanted to crawl off. He didn't say anything though, knowing everyone was struggling with their own thoughts. There was no need to add his own troubles.

Supper was quiet, conversation dying after a few words, giving over to the crackling of the fire. When everyone finally bid each other good night, Dayan just nodded in turn with a forced smile and slipped into his tent without a word.

Tonight he was sharing it with Halsin, the two’s dark history driving them closer than Dayan could have hoped for during the fight to free the shadow-cursed lands. The drow smiled to himself, thinking of it. Halsin on one hand, and Astarion on the other -- his past and his (hopeful) future come together. Dayan and the vampire were already in the midst of their complicated dance when Halsin came along, but he joined the steps easily. The three of them fit together like a well-worn puzzle – most of the time – much to the delight and teasing of their friends.

However, Astarion was in his own tent tonight. They learned quite quickly they couldn't all sleep together in a singular tent without elbows and knees in uncomfortable places -- or even collapsing the thing entirely, to the hilarity of everyone else the first morning they tried. Dayan had taken to bed hopping, which suited for now. Sometimes though, they all snuck away to the edge of the camp and slept together under the stars.

He was going to sorely miss that.

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Dayan sat on his bedroll as the moon waned overhead, waiting in silence for a bit until he was assured his companions were asleep and Halsin was deeply in trance, then slowly rose. He slipped out of their tent quietly, gathering his weapons and his pack before heading away from camp towards the river, alone.

At first Dayan just wandered the woods, thinking of nothing much at all. Breathing the air, listening to the sounds of the wind in the trees, the crickets, the night song. The trees gathered thickly together down the barely-forged path, and he inhaled deeply, smelling pine sap and loam. The canopy overhead made the moonlight shine though the leaves in narrow beams that lit everything with an ethereal glow. Something about it reminded him of home and he felt oddly homesick, despite their recent adventures reminding him so starkly why he left the Underdark long ago.

Pine slowly gave way to birch, and he smiled as he wove between the narrow white trunks, realizing at last he'd been idly meandering his way closer and closer to the sound of rushing water. Instinct, honed sharp by his years as a ranger; or perhaps a stronger desire. He felt pulled by the lazily moving stripe of darkness that bisected the land below them.

There was a break in the treeline right at the edge of the steep incline to the river, the far off mountains visible in the distance. They were faint through the haze of moisture-laden fog, the air pleasantly chill and crisp. Dayan beelined straight for it and crested the edge of the drop, dew-wet leaves slippery under his boots.

The hillside sloped sharply downward, ground soft and uneven beneath tangles of mossy roots; but the ranger was sure footed and confident as he skipped his way down, following the scent of algae and cattail. He didn't notice the large shadow that appeared at the rise of the hill behind him, nor saw it ease itself down the hill, following his laid trail with matching dexterity, though slightly more restraint.

Dayan sighed as the calm silver water finally slanted into view, fingers already undoing the buttons of his leather breeches before his boots hit the muddy riverbank. He dropped his bow and quiver beside an ancient fallen tree that had settled deep into the embankment as a permanent fixture, its skeletal limbs jutting out over the water. His scimitars came next, points plunged into the earth so they could be snatched up in a moment's notice, just in case. He set his pack down, his jacket flung carelessly over the trunk, gloves following moments later.

Behind him, that shadow came into relief, revealing an extremely tall, broad frame that slipped in behind the fallen tree, glimmering eyes locked on the drow.

Dayan gripped the waistband of his breeches, whipping the garment down his narrow hips to the tops of his boots, then lifted to try and pry his boot off along with the pants, too eager to feel the cool breeze on his skin. He hopped awkwardly in place, then heard a throaty chuckle behind him that made him spin around, his skin prickling in sudden warning. He'd been followed?!

"Who's there! I'm not to be trifled wi--wooAHH--!!" He'd made to reach for one of his scimitars, forgetting his legs were still tangled up in pants and half-removed boots. His arms pinwheeled as he lost his balance, falling hard to the ground with a muddy splash, wind knocked out of him. "Oof!!...Oww.." Whoever had chuckled burst into full laughter now and Dayan blinked, recognizing that warm laugh anywhere. "Wh--Halsin!"

"Hahaha...I am sorry, my heart! I didn't intend to startle you." The tattooed face of his favorite druid popped over the fallen tree, hazel eyes aglow with mirth. His hands rose in surrender and Dayan noted curiously he was, apparently, shirtless. "Are you all right?"

"Tch!" He halfheartedly glared at Halsin as the wood elf chuckled cheerfully, then sighed and laughed himself, giving in. "Sneaking up on me like a thief in the night, sunstone? Astarion's been a terrible influence, I see." He took the opportunity to sit up and finish peeling off his boots and pants, leaving only his smallclothes.

Halsin grinned and walked around the tree, revealing that yes, he was indeed only clad in his leather tights, even barefoot despite the chilly ground. He bent and reached for Dayan, offering a hand up. "You underestimate the cunning of an old druid; I've more experience in skullduggery than you would believe."

Dayan grumbled but took the hand, unable to hide the smile that played over his lips. "I doubt that. I can believe a great many things about you."

He was hauled up with ease, huffing as he got his footing and surveyed the mud caked over him. Well, this wasn't the first time he'd been covered in mud in only his underwear. It hardly bothered him and he turned his attention back to the much taller elf. "What are you doing here?" His eyes flicked up to meet Halsin's, pursing his lips a little. "Were you following me?"

"I...I was," Halsin admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, shoulders raised almost sheepishly. "I awoke when you slipped from our bedroll, out into the night. I apologize for not calling out to you, but when I saw you take your weapons, I was...well..."

"Worried." Dayan finished for him and then exhaled a long breath, his brow furrowing a bit. “That explains the lack of dress – did you hurry out right from the tent?” His expression softened a little as he stepped closer and put a hand on one of those broad forearms, squeezing it affectionately.

"I'm sorry,” he continued sincerely. “I never meant to worry you. I just -- I needed to go for a walk. Be away from camp for a little bit. Be..."

Dayan trailed off and then gestured around them, hand sweeping around as if presenting the wilderness and the lake and the night. He smiled when he saw full understanding in Halsin's eyes, and a knowing smile on his lips.

Not for the first time, the ranger thanked the Moondancer that Halsin was there. He loved Astarion, truely, with his whole heart, but getting the vampire to enjoy the wilderness with him was somewhat of a challenge most days. But Halsin was someone with whom Dayan could run free when he felt savage and wild, understanding when walls became too close and confined.

The drow lifted hands idly and began to undo the bands that held his hair in a tight tail. "Thank you, though. For worrying," he said softly, his gaze flicking back to meet those wise hazel eyes. "It means you're here now, and I'm glad for it."

"Something has been troubling you, my heart," Halsin replied, his tone low and gentle. He watched Dayan struggle with the tangle of his wet hair, the leather strips of his bands knotted tight, and lightly nudged his hands away to take over. Deft fingers worked the knots out as he slipped Dayan's hair free of the leather straps wound around it and then began to comb fingers through to smooth the long silvery-white strands. "I can see the tension in your shoulders and neck even now. You've felt like a cord stretched taut and vibrating."

Dayan sighed, long and soft, though from Halsin's words or the gentle motion of his fingers through the drow's hair, was unclear. "I feel like a cord pulled tight," he replied quietly. He started to rub his upper arms with his hands as if he was cold, though he wasn't. "Uncomfortable and thrumming. I'm restless under my skin, I can't get comfortable. I've begun jumping at shadows, been unable to sleep or even find true rest. Ever since we left the tower--" his words spilled from his lips, tumbling over each other. A lot to say built up over time, he supposed, and nobody to say it to.

"--Ever since we found out the truth." He gritted his teeth and tilted his head back, feeling that surge of nervous energy in his limbs. He bounced on his toes, fighting to keep down the sound that wanted to explode from his throat, not knowing if it was going to be a growl or a strangled scream.

Halsin stopped brushing fingers through his hair and placed a hand on his shoulder, but Dayan twisted away from it and grabbed his wrist, holding it aloft, tightly. Their eyes met, the druid's brow furrowed; Dayan stared into the wood elf's gaze a beat and then let out a slow breath, lids lowering.

"I'm sorry. I don't think --" He paused and sighed, his grip easing. "I feel like an electrical storm, sparking and dangerous to be near." He paused and then slid his hand up grip Halsin's and pressed his lips to his knuckles. "Stay though? Share a pipe with me. I was going to sit at the water's edge and smoke, try to...clear my head. Maybe calm my nerves a little, if what I brought helps." Dayan chewed his bottom lip, dark brows rising as he fixed Halsin with a soft beseeching look. "Only if you wish to, of course."

Halsin's smile was warm. "I do. I sought you out because I knew you were troubled. I would not abandon you now." He chuckled at the visibly relieved look on the drow's face and followed Dayan to his pack, craning his head curiously to see what 'help' his love had brought to ease his mind. A pipe, thinner and more elegantly curved than his own was produced, along with a leather bag, drawstring tight.

“Come,” Dayan murmured, taking one of those big paws in hand, fingers curling to hold it tight. He drew Halsin to a rather comfortable looking perch of mossy stone surrounded by cattails overlooking the river. The top was worn smooth by eons and covered in a soft bed of green. He lay down, clothes be damned and waited for Halsin to climb up and join him before he started packing the pipe. “This is your blend, that you gifted me,” he said softly, smiling warmly at the memory. “But I added a little something special.”

Halsin sniffed it discerningly and blinked. “Is that – Dayan, is that a reverie stick?”

The drow grinned, glancing up to meet his eyes. “I knew you’d catch it. Do you still want to…? I won’t be offended if you say no. It is something better shared, but I don’t mind flying solo. So to speak,” he chuckled.

Halsin laughed, himself. “Mmh, it has been a bit of time for me, but – perhaps just this once. We’re safe enough.”

Aye, I’m with you, sta kha'sik. Safe as houses. “Well then…” When he had packed it properly, Dayan slid the end of the thin elegant pipe between his lips and leaned close to the druid, the only one between them with fire at his fingertips.

“Light me up~”

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“Oh, I think –” Halsin sat up suddenly, his voice slightly breathless. “I think that might be enough for – for one evening.”

His hand moved to clutch Dayan’s upper arm in an effort to steady himself. The drow was perched at the edge of the rock, elbows resting on his knees as he stared out over the water. He didn’t know how long they’d been relaxing here, sharing the pipe between them, but the moon was directly overhead now. The whole river valley was awash in gentle silver-blue light. It was so peaceful and serene, his favorite time of the night. Dayan wished some of that peace had found its way into his restless veins.

The pipe clenched in his mouth, Dayan looked to Halsin, smoke swirling lazily from between his teeth. His bear had been stretched out and contentedly staring up at the stars until now. He wondered if anything was wrong.

“Too much?” Dayan asked gently, shifting a knee down to turn towards his lover and grip his arm beneath the elbow supportively. Halsin gave a soft laugh.

“Not yet, but I’m getting close, I fear. It has been a while since I’ve indulged. The usual euphoria is leading to…a different kind of intensity,” he finished in a low mumble and Dayan blinked and looked Halsin over, slowly grinning as his eyes flicked downward and found the cause for the druid’s concern. The stark outline of his erection bulged beneath taut leather.

“Where did that come from, all of a sudden?” he teased, sliding closer to Halsin and settling on his knees beside him, plucking the pipe from his lips a moment. Dayan’s skin had begun to prickle under the cool breeze coming off the river, but as he pressed closer to the huge elf he instantly felt warmer.

Halsin’s hand lifted to Dayan’s cheek, their eyes meeting. Dayan felt his face warm at what he saw there, his own amethyst gaze glistening as he blushed like a schoolboy and lowered dark lashes. He wrapped Halsin’s hand in both his own, bringing it to his lips to brush a kiss over the scarred knuckles.

“You,” Halsin said simply, and Dayan’s lips twitched into a smile he couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to. “The moonlight, when it touches your skin...the fine lines of your back in glowing relief…a sight so beautiful before my eyes, my words fail to capture it.” His tone was gentle, reverent; husky with need and desire.

“And – well, my heart –” Halsin chuckled low and sultry. “Your smallclothes are rather tight you know.”

Dayan bit back a laugh. Halsin was pressing even closer and he could practically smell the druid’s rising pheromones – that heady musk that was such a perfect mixture of sweat and heat and woodsmoke and something intrinsically Halsin, it always aroused him instantly.

“When you sit like that, there is very little I cannot see between your spread thighs.” Halsin’s voice was an octave or two lower, a rumbling that Dayan could feel quake in his own bones. The larger elf was nearly whispering in his ear as he pressed closer.

“You may as well be presenting for me…”

Dayan shivered but not from cold. He met Halsin’s eyes and gave him a slow, languid grin.

“Perhaps I was,” he mused, then lifted the pipe again.

“One more?” he asked hopefully, and after a moment of thought, Halsin nodded. Dayan exhaled a sound that could be a noise of agreement, or could be a moan. Either way he felt Halsin’s reaction, fingers twitching against his arm.

Dayan took a deep inhale of the pipe, breathing the smoke into his lungs, and held it. Then he turned to Halsin, gripping his jaw in a clay-colored hand, and gently pressed his thumb over his lips to keep them shut. He leaned in and blew the silvery smoke into Halsin’s nostrils, as the wood elf sucked it down deep, in an almost shuddering inhale.

After a beat, when he felt those powerful lungs expand and hold – Dayan’s thumb slipped into Halsin’s mouth and gently pressed, urging his lips to part until Halsin exhaled their shared smoke in pale, glimmering swirls that disappeared into the night sky.

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The reaction was instantaneous.

Dayan felt Halsin’s arms grip his hips, yanking him onto the druid’s muscled thighs. His own had to spread wide to straddle them and he gasped, Halsin’s tented bulge pressing right into his own soft groin – well, it had been soft, but he was getting hard, quickly, only the thinnest cloth separating him from Halsin’s grinding. Not even enough to keep Halsin’s warmth away as the druid’s big hands cupped Dayan’s ass and squeezed two big meaty handfuls of plump cheeks. The drow groaned, dropping his pipe in the wet mud and wrapping his arms around Halsin’s shoulders.

The dreamy euphoria of a reverie stick only enhanced the sensation of everything, Halsin’s fingers nearly burning through the cloth of Dayan’s smallclothes. He felt a hard grip, the fabric stretching tight against his skin, and then suddenly there was a snap and the pressure fell away, a quick snaking of cloth between his thighs revealing the reason as Halsin yanked him free of any confines with a muttered apology.

Dayan gasped against the druid’s lips and moaned, not even bothered by losing yet another pair of underthings to his bear’s passion and need. His cock was free now and that felt much better, after all. They rutted with soft grunts for a moment, Dayan’s fingers scrabbling at Halsin’s waistband to free him of his own annoying barrier.

But something here, in the heat of Halsin’s mouth on his, their tongues together, those hands on his bare skin – muscles sliding beneath his legs, even in the euphoria he felt, something was not quite right…

“Mmh…” He groaned against his lover’s mouth and exhaled a sharp breath. “...Wait…” His voice was barely audible, but Halsin immediately stopped groping the drow’s pert ass and slid his hands to Dayan’s waist, pulling back from their heated liplock. The druid’s cock trembled, trapped and poking up beneath a waistband half-yanked down. Dayan’s mouth practically watered as the scent hit his nose and he exhaled a hard breath.

“My heart…?”

“This – isn’t what I–” He pulled back a little and Halsin’s hands left his waist. Dayan frowned and grabbed the right one by the wrist, pulling it closer. “No, I – I want you close, I want your touch, I do. I just–” He dropped his head and sighed, shaking it slightly. How to say what he really wanted? How to push past the conflicting sensations in his body to know?

He felt calming fingers in his hair, brushing through the long strands and gently rubbing the prickly fuzz of his undercut. He looked up and the care and love that stared back at him made his throat feel thick.

“Speak as you will, beloved. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, not a step.”

Dayan relaxed, his head turning a little to rub his cheek against Halsin’s palm.

“Even now, with the sky above me and you in my arms – I still ache for solid ground. I, I want you! I want this," he clarified. "But I – I can’t – I don’t think I want to be–” He paused and then closed his eyes, easier to speak from the dark well of his mind.

“I feel bereft of any control," he mumbled, lifting his hand to press against Halsin's that still lay resting on his cheek. His head turned, lips pressed to the rough, warm skin and then slowly bit into the fleshy mound of his thumb, hard enough that it drew a gasping breath from the druid. Halsin's lower eyelids twitched and Dayan watched them him bright eyes, easing his teeth off when satisfied and slowly drawing his tongue over the ridges they left behind.

"Gods I wish I could wildshape," he continued, his voice lower, husky in his throat as he leaned closer, pressing to Halsin now, still holding onto his wrist. The taller elf was looking at him with heavy lidded eyes, his breath shuddering again as Dayan pressed a firm hand into the swell of his muscular chest and squeezed, forming half-moons into the tough skin. That hand then slid upward, slow and firm, making Halsin shiver as it planed his collarbone and wound around the back of his neck to grip his hair.

"This nervous skin, this fear would be silenced if I could run through the trees on all fours."

"My silver wolf," Halsin murmured, his lips curling, smile edged and trembling with a rising heat, a need Dayan could practically scent. The drow grinned as he watched his lover's pupils expand and felt that trapped cock grow even harder and thicker against him as he pressed closer. It made his own twitch and he angled his hips so Halsin felt the hot, firm press of his length. The groan that pooled in his bear's throat was like a song. He felt a slick wetness slide against his shaft and had to swallow down his own moan and instinct to grind.

Dayan exhaled a slow breath and let go of Halsin's wrist, hand moving to join its twin in his hair, tangling around thin braids and golden brown locks. His thumb grazed a strong jaw. "I love you," he said, so softly, and slowly drew the druid close, bending him like a willow sapling.

One hand clenched in Halsin’s hair, Dayan moved the other to press lightly beneath that finely-cut chin, his thumb braced against a bottom lip as he pressed closer.

"Everything's a mess, sta kha'sik." My light in the dark. "Nothing feels stable, nothing feels solid," he whispered against the druid’s mouth. His eyes locked onto Halsin's, the spring green of his eyes a narrow rim around lust-blown black pupils. Dayan wondered if his own were as wide, a black void circled with amethyst.

"I need something I can direct and shape without uncertainty. I need something I can control," he whispered.

"Then you have it, my heart," Halsin said, his next utterance a breathy groan. "You have me. Take me...shape me as you will, direct me and I will obey." There was a pause, Dayan’s eyes locked onto Halsin’s, searching deep. He saw nothing there but love and desire, in equal measure. No shadows haunting his words.

”Please…” Halsin whispered and Dayan almost groaned at the sound of so much need.

He exhaled and bit the druid's soft lower lip, gentle pressure turning to sharp pain as his teeth clamped, drawing a copper taste and making Halsin twitch and gasp. He suckled on the lip, practically feeling the heated throb in it and let go. Halsin groaned, mouth still parted and slightly panting, his eyes hooded.

Dayan grinned then, mischievously and pulled away suddenly, causing Halsin to sway and have to grip the rock to avoid tumbling forward after him. He actually whined a little at the drow, which nearly made Dayan change his plan and push him down in the mud right here, after all. He inhaled to get control of himself again and then gave Halsin a smirk over his shoulder.

"Let's get the blood pumping, shall we?” He crooked a beckoning finger and chuckled as Halsin blinked, and then matched his grin as he scrambled down off the rock and paced after. He couldn't help but notice there was a subtle stalk in the druid’s movements. The bear stirred, it seemed.

“You’ve roused my blood hotter than you know, my proud wolf,” Halsin said, his voice a soft, low near-growl.

Dayan smirked and met the advancing elf, catching him between hands gently cradling his head. Halsin instinctively sank to his knees and Dayan murmured approvingly, bending to kiss him deeply, fervently. Even on his knees Halsin was tall enough the drow barely had to tilt to meet his lips, but even this small difference was arousing. Halsin kept his hands down and a thrill went through Dayan. He knows the rules.

“Patience, sunstone,” he whispered against Halsin’s bruised bottom lip, tweaking it with his teeth just once.

“There's an islet out there, see?" he cocked a thumb back towards the water. There was indeed a small hill of land a little ways out from the edge of the river, a few clinging trees visible. "Race me, and if you win -- I'll do one thing you want. A request," he teased, though they both knew he was already going to do many, many things Halsin would absolutely want. The druid perked at the idea of making a special request though.

“Now?” Halsin asked, breathless, and Dayan nodded. He kissed his forehead and let go, stepping back.

“Now.”

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

Dayan didn't even have to count off. Halsin stripped in seconds -- Dayan felt a brief pang of regret, making the druid strip for him would have been enticing -- and barreled toward the water.

The drow laughed and darted to the fallen tree instead, jumping up on it gracefully and running down the length as it jolted beneath his pounding feet. He heard Halsin let out a growl of annoyance as he waded to deeper water, Dayan's little trick giving the drow a good head start. Dayan grinned wider in triumph as he neared the end of the makeshift springboard and jumped, diving smoothly into the river with barely a splash.

The two of them were both excellent swimmers, Dayan's lithe form against Halsin's powerful strokes. The ranger could hear Halsin gaining on him off behind to the left, churning up much more water than he was. He smirked and put on an extra burst of speed, the islet already in sight.

That is, until he heard the unmistakable sound of channeling magic behind him, and felt the water suddenly violently ripple, something darting below and almost pulling him down in its powerful wake. Water surged up his nose and he had to stop to cough and clear his sinuses, stinging eyes lifting just in time to see a narrow fin rise from the water.

"Whu--" Dayan blinked and then shouted in frustration, slapping the water with both hands.

"For the love of--!! HALSIN!! A shark is CHEATING!" He growled and kicked into a sprint, huffing. Druids!!

His eyes narrowed as he saw the fin quickly approaching the bank of the little islet and in a flash of golden, leaf-strewn light, Halsin splashed out of the water. He was red-cheeked and laughing, joyous at his certain win.

Dayan muttered an incantation just as his feet hit rock and suddenly with a spray of water, the ranger misty stepped just as Halsin spun around to look for him. Dayan dropped atop the druid and with their joint momentum sent the bear man crashing into the mud, the smaller elf landing atop him.

"Cheater!"

Dayan growled softly down at his love, eyes narrowing as he watched Halsin bite his lip to try and keep more laughter from bubbling. Dayan was straddling Halsin's abdomen, all his weight propped on his hands, which were pinning the druid's wrists to the slick mud of the isle's shoreline.

The river lapped at their legs as he grinned like a wolf down at his prey, both of them panting, flushed...and growing hard despite the chill of the water they just left. Dayan's cock was nudging into Halsin’s body as he straddled his ribs, adjusting his grip on his wrists subtly.

He wasn't as thick as Halsin -- he didn't know anyone who was -- but Dayan was fairly lengthy, slightly curved, with a small plush cockhead already half-exposed past a thin foreskin. The swim only heightened the heat pooling in his loins, and Halsin’s felt so warm Dayan almost expected the water dripping from his body and hair to sizzle when it hit the druid’s skin.

His love lay beneath him, flushed, breathing hard, and beautiful -- beads of water and sweat both glistening on his skin, his hair come undone, a loose wild mane framing his face. Wet tendrils clung to his forehead and cheeks and Dayan had an urge to run his tongue along those snaking strands.

"Misty Step? Who's cheating, now?" Halsin rumbled and Dayan had to laugh.

"Fair enough. We both win."

Suddenly his lips were on Halsin's in a heated, hungry kiss, tasting deep and claiming the druid's mouth for his own. He nipped and bit those lips until they were tingling and swollen, then pushed his tongue past them. Halsin moaned, a husky, rumbling sound that made Dayan's belly flip and his head swim. His cock pulsed and dribbled a few drops of precum onto Halsin's chest. When he finally pulled away to let the wood elf breathe, the tips of Halsin’s ears were pink, his face ruddy and warm and lips parted as he panted softly.

Gods, he was so lovely Dayan could weep.

He moved his lips to Halsin's ear. "You remember the words, the signal, if...?" he breathed and Halsin nodded. "And this is all right?"

"I want you, my heart," the druid moaned quietly. "I want–”

“--please," he broke off suddenly, a soft desperation seeming to seize him. "Take me, Dayan." His eyes flicked to meet the drow's, dark and liquid with desire. "Roughly. Harshly, even. Give me claws and teeth…break me if you must…but I need you…I’ve needed you for so long."

“Gods," Dayan groaned and let go of Halsin's wrists to grip his hair in both fists, body dropping flush to Halsin’s to kiss him fiercely again. Stocky arms made to embrace him but he yanked on those thick brown locks, jerking Halsin's head back as a warning, making the druid's breath catch.

"Ah-ah," he whispered. "Hands down. Keep them there." Halsin obeyed immediately, his arms dropping back in place. Dayan smiled and kissed his jaw. "Good boy."

That got a moan and Dayan swore he felt Halsin's cock jerk against his naked rear. It'd have to remain neglected for now.

His hands needed to be busy elsewhere.

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 tav #bg3 halsin #sub halsin #d/s dynamic #smut fic #pwp fics

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s0fter-sin · 5 months

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soapghost circus au

ghost’s an extreme motorcycle stunt performer - globe of death, riding on his back wheel along tightropes, that sort of thing

soap’s a fire breather/dancer. he’s a roaming performer; he just finds empty spaces or bored people and starts twirling

he pretends not to notice the way he always wanders towards a certain tent every night to watch a certain masked daredevil defy gravity. he thinks he's slick and that ghost won't notice him in the crowd, completely forgetting that he's carrying something that happens to be on fire

ghost couldn't miss him if he tried

one day off, soap's trialing fire whips; he loves the loud crack and the way the flame licks through the air and maybe he's a little too impatient to practice with non flaming whips first, even though he's never used one before

he's covered in soot and fine welts where the tip of the whip keeps flicking back up at him, cutting through his shirt and stinging his skin but he doesn't let that stop him. it starts to stick to him, damp with sweat and blood and he's quick to strip it off; throwing it to the side to keep practicing

when soap finally gets a few good cracks in a row and breaks to celebrate, he almost jumps out of his skin when he sees the masked rider leaning against a trailer watching him

of all the times he's wanted ghost to talk to him, this is not one of them

he wanted to impress him, dance for him with his flaming batons and be mesmerised by his fluidity and skill

not catch him filthy and struggling with something as basic as a whip

he's ready for ghost to ream him out for not having control over the whip - he's known throughout the circuit for expecting utter perfection in his routines - but when ghost finally does speak, it's only to ask if he's done for the day

soap falters for a moment. he wanted to get some consistency with the whip before he stopped, but he's starting to feel the hours of practice; muscles aching and skin blistered with minor burns

he says he is and ghost pushes off the trailer, nodding his head to make soap follow. he brings him back to his trailer and tells him to clean up then takes out his personal med kit to treat the grazes on soap's skin

soap's shocked; for all that he loves to watch ghost perform, they've never really talked before

part of why he joined the circus was so he wouldn't be a burden on anyone, the oldest in a family with too many mouths to feed and not even time to nurture, and here he is taking up ghost's valuable practice time bc he wasn't good enough to handle his own discipline. he tries to brush him off, downplaying the burns and tries to leave before half them can be treated but ghost just glares and orders him to sit back down

ghost does expect perfection from himself but it isn’t out of any malice or ego; it's bc he knows if he isn't perfect, he could very easily die. he’s picked a dangerous profession and he gives it the respect it deserves. there isn't any shame in being a novice or failing at something; he thinks there's a lot of beauty in having the courage to get back up again and again

so every day he watches soap practice and bullies him into his trailer to put him back together bc he knows he won't do it by himself

and every night soap wanders over to ghost's section of the fair grounds, in awe of his skill and wishing he could be worthy of the care he gives him

#have i posted this before? yes but it has an actual idea behind it now #anyway back on my ‘soap pushes himself too hard to meet expectations only he is holding him to’ bullshit #price is obviously the ring master and id say gaz is probably trapeze #ghost used to work for robas circus who kept pushing him to do more and more dangerous stunts with less and less safety measures in place #and for a long time he thought thats how it was supposed to be #he was supposed to court death every night. supposed to limp back to his trailer and take care of his own injuries #and its only when price comes to one of his shows to scope out roba as competition and confronts him afterwards abt the conditions #that he realises something might be wrong #so seeing his past staring back at him in the form of soap hurts something deep within him and he has to make it right #he doesnt want soap to have to live with the same deep pains that he does #injuries that couldve been avoided if hed just gone easier on himself #coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt #we’re a team. ghost team #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghoap #john soap mactavish #soap cod #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #save post

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maxattax · 9 months

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Meet Me Halfway - Holiday Truce 2023

Happy Holiday Truce! This gift is for @dannyphannypack :) I hope you like it! I used your prompt #4, identity reveal.

The second hand on my watch ticks forward slowly. I’m waiting for my most troublesome student to show up for detention, and it is now five minutes past when he should have been here. I shouldn’t be surprised; Daniel Fenton is rarely on time for class, so why should this be any different? I’ll be calling his parents if he isn’t here soon.

Ten minutes past the hour, the door finally opens. “Sorry I’m late, Mr. Lancer. I… uhm…” Daniel’s face scrunches while he searches for an excuse.

I sigh. “Mr. Fenton, I was starting to think you wouldn’t show.” I gesture to the chair I’ve pulled up to my desk. “Have a seat.”

He sits. At first, I say nothing. He squirms in his seat, fingers dancing across the desk. I’ve known many students who are perfectly content to sit in silence, and many who will fill every second with words. But Daniel just waits, uncomfortable. He stares at me, his face grim like a man condemned. I finally break the silence.

“You missed half of my class today. Care to explain why?” I ask.

Daniel picks up a paperclip off my desk and straightens it out, then bends it back into its original shape. “Why bother asking?” he says, shaking his head. “We both know you won’t believe me.”

“Maybe if you told the truth…” I trail off, pinching the bridge of my nose. I lower my hands to my desk and look him in the eye. “I know you’re a good kid, Daniel. It’s clear there’s more going on. If you ever feel comfortable confiding in me, I want to help. Just meet me halfway.”

Daniel meets my gaze. I can’t tell what he’s thinking as he examines me. Is he weighing whether he can trust me? Is he trying to figure out if I know more than I’m letting on? I wish I did. Is he just waiting for me to dismiss him?

After too long, he says, “I’m just going through some stuff. You wouldn’t get it.”

“I might. I was a teenager once, too. I do remember what it was like.” He cocks an eyebrow. I choose to ignore his disbelief. “Is this about Mr. Baxter? I have been too lenient on him. I apologize for his actions; I only recently learned the extent of how he’s been treating you and your peers, and I will be cracking down on his behavior.”

Daniel’s eyes go wide for a moment. “Uh, yeah, that’s it.” Okay, so that’s not it. He’s not a very good liar. “Thanks. He’s been a pain in the a– uh, butt, for a while now.”

That I do believe. Dash has been cruel to several of my students, and I still can’t believe how blind I was to his bullying. I won’t let him get away with it any longer.

But if this isn’t about Dash, then what is it? “I’m happy to help,” I say. Daniel gives me a half smile, but says nothing. “Well, if there’s nothing else, why don’t you get some homework done? We still have forty-five minutes.”

Daniel deflates. “Yeah, fine.” He eyes his preferred seat in the back of the room, but slinks to a desk in the front row. He sinks onto the chair and plops a notebook onto the desk. Hunched over his book, he chews on the back of his pen as he reads. He scribbles something in his notebook, shakes his head, and turns the page.

He looks up at me. I hastily look away and start organizing the papers on my desk.

A few minutes later, I hear a gasp. “Is everything alright, Mr. Fenton?”

His fingers grip the side of his desk. “Uh, yeah. I just have to go to the bathroom. Can I go?” He taps his toes, unable to stay still in his seat. I can’t tell whether he urgently needs the restroom or if he is just eager to get away. It’s probably best to let him go just in case. I open my mouth to respond.

CRASH! The classroom door explodes inward, shards of wood ricocheting off the wall. An enormous glowing green bear stomps into the room. Saliva drips from its razor-sharp teeth, and it lets out a bone-chilling growl.

The bear takes a step in my direction. The floor shakes as its feet hit the ground. “The Winter’s Tale, I’m being pursued by a bear!” I stand up from my chair and back away slowly. My heart pounds in my chest as it takes another step.

“Hey ugly, leave him alone!” The bear rears its head towards Daniel. What is he doing?! It slowly makes its way towards the boy, rage in its eyes. What do I do? I can’t fight a ghost!

I glance towards the door. The phone on the wall has been crushed and is hanging off the base by the cord. It’s times like these that I regret not having a cell phone.

Daniel pulls a thermos out of his bag. This is not the time for soup! I want to shout, but the words are stuck in my throat.

The bear lunges towards the teen, but he nimbly dodges the attack. Daniel skirts around the ghost and points the thermos at its torso.

I drop to my knees and hide under my desk. I hate to leave a student in danger, but I am honestly terrified, and he seems to have this handled, somehow. As I watch, I remember that his parents are ghost hunters. It makes sense that he’d know how to capture them, although I was under the impression that he is scared of ghosts. He is usually the first out the door during ghost attacks.

Daniel dodges another attack, but drops the thermos. It rolls across the classroom floor and bounces off the leg of my desk. The bear notices the movement and turns to face me. Oh no.

The bear takes a few steps in my direction and raises its paw a foot away from my face. Time freezes. This is it. I’m going to die here, and Daniel won’t be far behind. I’ve failed in my duty to protect my students. My muscles tense, bracing for the impact.

In slow motion, the paw comes careening towards me. Daniel leaps across the room. There is a flash of light, and ethereal white rings appear around the boy’s waist. As the rings travel across his body, they transform my young student into the town superhero, Danny Phantom. What in the world?

A glowing green dome appears around me, and the bear’s claws scrape against the light. I’m unharmed? How?

“Okay, now you’ve pissed me off,” the ghost boy says. His voice echoes ominously.

The bear growls in response. It turns to face Phantom, who is floating over my desk, eyes glowing with the intensity of his anger.

Phantom whips around and flies behind the bear. He wraps his arms around it and lifts it over his head, slamming it into the ground behind him. The bear crumples, dazed. Phantom unceremoniously picks up the thermos and activates it. The bear stretches towards the thermos, a growl ripped from its throat as it is sucked into the machine. Phantom caps the thermos with a soft click. The air is still and quiet; the danger is gone.

The teenage ghost floats before me. He stares at me, silent, examining. His deathly pale face is frozen, twisted in an expression of anxiety. He searches me, although for what I am uncertain.

He takes a deep, unsteady breath. Do ghosts need to breathe? “So, uhm,” he says, his voice shaking. “You didn’t see any of that, right?” His hands are trembling, his form vibrating in the air before me.

“I saw a student turn into a ghost and suplex a bear,” I say bluntly. I stand and look up at him. His glow illuminates the area around him, and it’s uncomfortable to look directly at him. “Is that really you, Daniel?”

“Oh.” He lowers himself slowly to the ground. Another blinding flash of light summons rings around his waist, transforming him back into the boy I know. “I guess I have some explaining to do…”

“Yes, you certainly do. You’re a ghost? A Christmas Carol, how did this happen? Are… are you dead?”

Daniel grimaces. “No! Uh, probably. Jazz says no; I’ll trust her on this. Technically, I’m only half-ghost.” He runs a hand through his black hair. “Generally ghosts don’t like to talk about how they died, but I’ll just say there was an accident in my parents’ lab.”

I raise my eyebrows, but before I can speak, he continues. “No, my parents don’t know. Please don’t tell them.” He picks up a pen from my desk, uncaps it, and caps it again. “They wouldn’t take it well.”

This poor boy, having to hide who he is from everybody. That can’t be easy. I word my next question carefully. “Are you safe at home? As your teacher, I am a mandated reporter. That means if you’re in danger, I have to tell somebody.”

Daniel does not meet my eyes, staring intently at the pen in his hand. “No – I – uhm, no. Like, yeah, they’re ghost hunters, but they’re really bad at it. They miss half the shots they take.”

“That means they still hit you with half their shots,” I point out. “I may be an English teacher, but I’m not that bad at math.”

He finally looks up at me. “I’m good at this, Mr. Lancer. I’ve been doing it for a while. If you call CPS, then the Guys in White – sorry, the Ghost Investigation Ward,” he rolls his eyes, “will get involved, and they’re much more dangerous than my parents. Do you think they’ll care that I’m half human, if they even believe me?”

I think back to the last few times the government agents were in town. They haven’t been quiet about their hatred of ghosts. He’s right; they’re not exactly compassionate or careful. “Okay,” I say. “I believe you. You said Jasmine is aware of your… condition?”

Daniel laughs. “I’m a superhero, it’s not a disease. Yeah, she knows. Sam and Tucker do too; they were there when it happened. I’ll, uh, have to fill them in on this.”

A superhero. He’s so young to be throwing himself into danger on a daily basis. No wonder he’s failing his classes. “Why were you late for class today? I expect honesty, this time.”

Daniel blinked, expressionless. “Not the question I expected.” He sighs. “It was a ghost, of course. On the other side of campus.”

“Ah. Is that always the reason you’re late?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He shrugs. “The ghosts don’t care that I have class. I have to take care of them. Nobody else is gonna do it.”

“What about the Red Huntress? Isn’t it better to let an adult take care of it?”

Daniel barks out a short laugh. “She cares more about capturing me than any other ghost. She shoots first and asks questions never. I can’t leave her to do it alone. Plus, she has sc– other responsibilities too, outside of ghost hunting.”

“You know who she is.” It’s not a question.

“I do. But it’s not my secret to tell.”

I nod respectfully. He really is a good kid. “Okay. I wouldn’t have asked, anyway. She’s not my responsibility. You, however…”

“Yeah, I know,” Daniel says. “I haven’t been the best student. I’ve been so busy fighting ghosts I haven’t had time for anything else. I’ve barely been sleeping. But if you could meet me halfway, I’ll do my best to bring my grades up.”

I appreciate that. He must be incredibly busy, considering how many ghost attacks Amity Park sees every day. “I can’t excuse too many absences, not without the school getting suspicious,” I tell him. “But now that I know about your… extracurricular activities, I can cut you a little slack. And I won’t tell anybody. You have my word.”

Daniel lets out a long breath of relief. “Thank you, Mr. Lancer. That means a lot.”

I smile at him. He smiles back, then gasps. A wisp of cloudy breath escapes his mouth. “Oh no, another one?” he says, annoyed.

“What was that?” It’s not that cold in here, certainly not cold enough to see one’s breath.

“My ghost sense. There’s one nearby.”

A booming voice shouts as a ghost fades into view. “I am the Box Ghost! BEWARE!”

Daniel rolls his eyes. “Can I have a minute to deal with this guy?”

“Of course.” Daniel grins and transforms into his ghostly alter-ego once more. He punches the ghost, confident in every move. He seems to know what he’s doing. I’m glad to finally know what’s going on, and I’ll be here to support him every step of the way.

And maybe even get him to do his homework.

#danny phantom #phandom truce 2023 #my writing #fanfiction #ive never written first person present tense before #ive also never written from lancer's POV #so this was a fun exercise #i'm happy with how it came out

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sidekickjoey · 2 years

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So, I’m on a modern rockstar!Eddie and fan!Steve AU kick lately.

You know how, for newer bands or bands that are just hitting big fame, lead singers tend to light up or get super emotional whenever they catch fans singing along or really resonating with their music for the first time?

Imagine Eddie, fresh off of Corroded Coffin’s first hit single. It’s some big roaring rock ballad that’s not entirely like their usual stuff, a little less metal than a lot of their tastes, but just the perfect bridge between the genres to get people interested in them. It suits Eddie’s voice well too, and when he sang it before it got big, everyone in the crowd looked up at him like he was a god. An angel in ripped clothes with a wicked smile and a killer set of pipes. Eddie loved it. He secretly loves hearing that it is the one that’s making it big.

Steve is not a fan of metal, per se, but he loves a good deep rock song. He likes the way the drums boom in his bones and how the often grit-filled voices of 80s rockstars contrast with the smooth stylings of the electric guitars. When he first hears Corroded Coffin’s newest single, he’s not trying to seek out a new song to add to his list, but he is entranced all the same. The lead singer’s vocals just do something to him. The melody is intoxicating. He puts it on repeat for weeks. Robin hates him and tells him to get a hobby after the third.

Naturally, they end up together at Corroded Coffin’s Chicago show a few weeks later. It’s a bit of a hike from Hawkins, but Steve would not shut up about going, and Robin is clinging desperately to the shred of hope that this may be what finally rids Steve of his ear worm, so they make it work. They stumble through each other’s idiosyncrasies (”Steve, for the thousandth time, your hair is FINE” “Robs, I swear to God if you make me stop this car one more time for a bathroom break, you’re walking the rest of the way”) and end up three rows back from the front. It’s not a bad view. Steve likes how he’s directly in front of the mic. He likes it even more after noticing how often he makes eye contact with the opener, both meaningfully and not.

Nothing prepares him, however, for when they step off the stage and the lights dim. The stage rumbles. The fans scream. A heavy drum beat begins feeling more like a pounding heartbeat, and as it ascends into a faster tempo, they are greeted with the whine of an electric guitar and the one man they’re all there to see.

Eddie.

Eddie, with heavy eyeliner smeared down his cheeks, impressively fluffed up hair, and a piercing in his ear that glimmers in the bright stage light. Eddie, who is donning a black vest and nothing more up top and a pair of short ripped shorts and fishnets down below. Eddie, whose large boots are about eye level with Steve’s face and welcome to stomp on him at any time he pleases, thank you very much.

Steve is frozen the moment he comes into the light.

He struggles to breathe as Eddie cracks a smile.

Then, Corroded Coffin dives right into their setlist. It’s heavy, like anyone who has listened to more than one song of theirs can tell, but it’s not unpleasant. Robin seems to love the more fast-paced songs and hits it off with a girl beside them dressed not unlike Eddie who seems to like them, too. Steve finds himself listening less to them and more often watching Eddie - the man with enough stage presence to render a crowd under his command.

It’s exhilarating. And then, it all comes to a head when the first chords of their hit song play.

The world around Steve melts away the second he hears them. Robin mentions something to him about the song, tugging on his sleeve, but it goes unnoticed because this is it. This is the moment Steve drove however long to see. This is the song that’s taken over his entire life for the past month and a half, and Eddie is right there. Eddie’s going to sing it to him.

Eddie does sing it to him. He sings it right to him.

Steve doesn’t know that it’s because he’s the only one in Eddie’s line of sight that knows all the lyrics. He doesn’t know that it’s because his joy is just radiating off of him like the sun cutting through a chilly winter’s day. He doesn’t know that Eddie was feeling nervous about debuting this song to such a big crowd in such a big city, and Steve’s enthusiasm melted all those nerves away the second recognition crossed his eye.

He just knows that Eddie’s singing to him, and that it’s everything and more than he could ask for.

Getting Eddie’s pick tossed to him at the end of the night is a delightful cherry on top, though. Steve clutches it close to his chest as he and Robin leave the venue. He places it on his nightstand once they’re back in Hawkins.

And, because he’s insatiable and still on the high of the concert (to Robin’s dramatized dismay), he takes a picture of it to post to social media, documenting the night before he goes to bed.

“Guess I’m a metalhead now. Thanks for the show @CorrodedCoffin x”

Steve watches Robin and a few of his other friends from Hawkins like it before he finally drifts off, ears slightly ringing but mind on Cloud 9. When he wakes, he comes to realize that a whole lot more than just Robin and the gang dropped likes of their own overnight. In fact, a whole lot more people did - including none other than famous lead singer and guitarist of Corroded Coffin himself, Eddie Munson.

...who also left a comment that everyone and their mother was liking.

“Thanks for the show yourself, pretty boy. Give that pick a good home for me, yeah?”

Steve gawks. Steve laughs. Steve likes it and immediately makes a beeline for Robin’s home, because if he doesn’t talk about this with someone else asap, he may just combust into a pile of goo on the floor.

By the time he gets there, he might as well already be a puddle on the floor, because in the time it took for him to hop in his car and drive the ten minutes to her house, Eddie not only saw the like but hopped in his DMs - not to creep on him or anything, but to be a damn gentleman apologizing for blowing up his phone (”I’m still not used to this whole ‘everyone following me’ thing”) and making sure he got home from the concert okay, because he’s made the trip from Hawkins before to visit family and knows it’s a decent ride.

It’s everything. It’s all too much.

It’s every fan’s dream, and Steve cannot believe he’s living it.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things headcanon #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #rockstar au

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celestialomnipotence · 9 months

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Hi, I was wonder if I can make a request for a oneshot or hc idea on security breach.

I was an idea of reader being an animatronic kind of like mangle on how they were a pull apart and put back together toy for young children, with their attraction being near the daycare.

Name ideas could be like "{reader}'s Friends and Play!", or {reader}'s dress up station". Something with a play on words with dressing up or play.

Because they are like one of those take apart and put back together toys were you could swap certain parts of the toy like hair, clothes, accessories, etc. And kids would come to the readers play area of have fun changing the design of the reader. It's being marked twords younger kid key it being by the Daycare.

But we all know kid could be a little to forceful or rough with reader, leading them to break and having to go to part and serves/maintenance almost everyday to get fixed. But since it cost money and time to fix reader, the Pizzaplex just desided it would be better to just discontinue reader and close off there area under the pretense of repairs.

But reader area never opened back up. And like the Glamrock + the Daycare Attendant just gradually forgot about reader. Than one day one of them just stumbled apon readers area and it just like closed off, with the inside being really dusty with tarp covering everything. Everything but reader who's slouched in a corner, broken looking like mangle with different part of her body making up her body in placed they shouldn't be.

It just feel like it would be hella angsty and a good oneshot for some angst and burn.

Get back to me as soon as you can, thank you for reading this^^

Pull apart-Put together Animatronic Reader pt 1

>Oneshot<

Kyo- Took me a long time to get to this but im finally doing this one! This will be multiple parts since im editing a post and cant draft it

So some details about Reader and a small synopsis

Reader is NB (I do not write for women, i apologize)! Just to make things simple and inclusive. As for readers appearance, they’re actually an advanced endoskeleton that can have part placed on to turn into many kids of animals with a few references to other animatronics! Not only that, but hair, accessories and clothes can be picked out!

Sadly the kids started cracking and destroying the parts and workers, not wishing to deal with these issues anymore, closed off the area and lied to everyone else… Until someone found reader.

Pick Apart my Heart

Late at night once again, Moon was out of the daycare again. He had the tendency to be out and explore but tonight was a bit different. There was an abandoned section near the daycare that appeared to be wiped from his database.

It seemed like an odd assumption but they once forgot to wipe him and Suns memory once before about a boarded off section. Surely it was the same this time.

Moon didnt need to destroy anything to sneak in as he crawled through some cracks in the boarded up door.

The room its self was big and… Similar to the daycare except covered in a thick layer of dust. Similar to Roxys make-up station, there were rows of dusty and tattered clothes, animatronic parts, hairs, accessories and…

Moon then noticed you, curled up in the corner. An odd sight, either you were shut off or havent moved in ages. A thick layer of dust covered your endoskeleton. Moon slowly approach but the click of his parts gave away his movements. Thats when he noticed the lights turn on in your eyes. Your… mismatched colored eyes?

…

Of course you hadnt been shut off but, you had personally shut of your optic circuits to fake a sleeping like state. Although since your heard noises, you turned them back on.

Looking up, you noticed… Moon. Hope bubbled up inside you before you spoke up. “Oh, its you, I never expected any of you guys to come in here.”

Moon looked… confused, as confused as he could look, before speaking himself. “How do you know us?”

It then seemed to hit you. Either their memories of you were wiped or blocked. One way or another you had to figure out if Moon and Suns are blocked. Surely theirs arent as their circuitry are more complicated than the other.

“I was an old put together animatronic here. Y/Ns Put-Together Play-Together. I dont have any of my parts on though, im too broken to do that anymore.” You caught yourself mumbling the last part as.. Your blob of parts shifted into what could only be assumed as you… In a state between sitting and standing.

Your neck was broken along with a leg where your arm should be and an arm where your leg should be. Although the leg you had in the correct spot was twisted backwards…. Along with a black cat tail similar to how Montys bends lodged where the tails attach.

Moon seemed to examine it all before finally responding to you. “Y/N… You sound and seem familiar. How are you functional?”

“My circuits and wires were built to bend and put in places kids couldnt take apart… My neck was broken by a teenager though, a dare by their peers and the reason I was put away.”

Moon seemed to think or.. Maybe even process what you said as you… Crawled towards him.

“We were friends before Moon. Surely you would be able to remember me? I was friends with… Well everyone here!- Theres no way all of you dont remember-“

You felt panic sink in now… What if everyone elses memory was wiped and everything you had was lost??

Moon then spoke again. “Look I dont remember you. Were closed tomorrow and I cleared a path so… Talk to someone else. Maybe Sun when the lights are on.”

It then hit you… Moon was always slightly harsh and straight forward… Maybe you could trick him into the daycare and force the lights on… Or maybe find someone else…

Moon seemed to back off to where he entered from. “Im going to head back to what I was doing, your exits here.”

As he left, you began debating your choices.

Trick Moon to turn into Sun and regain their memories or…

Find someone else. Either Monty or Music man are your next best chances.

Kyo- Make your choice for part two! Theres a week on the poll and I have each path planned. What do you think is best? Or do you just wanna see your favorite? (Yes! I will get to everyone else too just bear with me)

#fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sb x male reader #fnaf sb x reader #fnaf security breach #fnaf

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amazingmsme · 1 year

Text

One Thing After Another

AN: What??? Two fics two days in a row??? Shocking, I know, but I had to write this for my final assignment in my superheroes class and I can’t just let it sit around. This is a Big Hero 6 fic based later in the second season of the show. You don’t have to have seen it if you wanna read it, but there’s two minor characters from the show in this fic and mentions of some of their villains if you really care about spoilers. And since this was a school assignment, it’s not my particular, ahem, brand of fics. Kinda went back to my roots for this one, all aboard the angst train! Hiro can’t catch a break, I really said fuck them kids bro (fr tho this show is awesome, you should really check it out!)

Hiro was tired. Scratch that, he was exhausted. They had to split up the team last night because Globby decided to try and pull of a jewelry heist while High Voltage robbed a bank, and Hiro ended up getting slammed against the giant metal vault. The resulting crack and shooting pain in his ribs wasn't a good sign, but he tried his best to hide the injury from Wasabi. The last thing he wanted was for him to freak out and go into mother hen mode. Keeping Baymax quiet about it was a task in and of itself, but he managed to get him far enough away from his friend to ease his concerns.

"I promise I'll ice it when we get home," he assured before shifting back to the task at hand.

High Voltage got away with a few bags stuffed to the brim with cash, leaving both Hiro and Wasabi twitching on the floor, hair fried and frizzed. They left feeling defeated, and Hiro was not in a good mood on the way back.

He was able to sneak into his room with relative ease, but not without a quick trip to the kitchen. He opened the freezer ever so slowly, grabbing the ice tray. Then, just as slowly, he closed the freezer door, easing the seal on the fridge shut. He grabbed a plastic bag from a drawer and headed up the stairs. It was the most tense few seconds he'd had that night, which was saying something.

Once in his room, he cracked the ice tray and dropped the remaining cubes in the bag. He took his time laying down on his bed, but he couldn't get comfortable.

He was facing the wall when he heard a beep, followed by an inflating fan. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Baymax shuffle to his bathroom and fumble around before returning to his bedside.

"Here, take this. It is an anti-inflammatory pain reliever. Pain management is important when healing rib fractures."

"Yeah yeah, take ibuprofen when it hurts too much. Thanks Baymax," he said, accepting the pill and glass of water. He grimaced as he sat up to take a drink.

Baymax returned from Tadashi's side of the room carrying extra pillows. He began meticulously placing them around Hiro.

"Uhh, what're you doing?"

"It is advised that you sleep upright. I will try to make you as comfortable as possible." Baymax took his time fluffing and arranging the pillows, patting his head before heading to the corner where Mochi was sleeping.

Hiro couldn't get comfortable to save his life. He always despised sleeping propped up, even when sick with a stuffy nose that left you gasping and flopping around in bed like a fish out of water. But now he couldn't fidget or toss and turn to get comfortable because even the slightest movement sent shockwaves of pain throughout his body. He just laid there, staring up at the ceiling as he let his thoughts spiral.

It didn't help that the pillows still smelled like Tadashi. He wasn't aware that his brother had a distinct scent until this moment, and he was struck with a sudden wave of grief.

Oh yeah, he wasn't going to get any sleep that night.

When his alarm went off, he was deliriously tired and aching from head to toe. It took him a while to pull himself out of bed, the melted ice pack flopping onto the floor as he stood. There was no way in hell he was bending over to pick it up, so he just kicked it under his bed. A problem for future Hiro.

He made it to the bathroom, glancing in the mirror before brushing his teeth. He jumped back when he saw his reflection, letting out a startled yelp. His eyes were bloodshot, skin pale with a thin sheen of sweat, and his hair was standing on end as if he were the Bride of Frankenstein. He swore he could see a quick spark of static electricity among the loose tangled.

He washed his face, enjoying the cool rag in his heated skin. He ran it under the faucet and squeezed out the water, resting it on the back of his neck.

Getting downstairs was a struggle, but luckily Baymax was at his side to help him ease down the steps.

Aunt Cass immediately knew something wasn't right.

"Oh my God what's wrong?" she exclaimed, rushing to the foot of the stairs and taking him from Baymax.

"Nothing's wrong, I just had a bad night's sleep is all," he tried to play it off.

"That's bologna and you know it!" she scolded, pointing a finger at him. He sighed, but even that hurt. She noticed the flinch and small grimace that came with the action.

"Hiro, what on earth did you do to yourself? I swear if this is because you snuck out to go bot fighting-"

"I didn't, I swear!" he cut her off. "I-I got jumped. On my way home from school yesterday. Some guys on the tram wanted to steal my backpack and I wouldn't let them, so they beat me up. I just- I didn't want you know because you already worry about me so much."

Her expression softened, though there was true concern in her eyes. "Oh Hiro, I'm always going to worry about you. But hiding something that serious from me is exactly why I worry so much! I mean, do you even hear yourself? You were attacked on your way home! I knew the crime rate is on the rise, but this is ridiculous! What did they do to you? Did they steal anything important?" she asked, hovering over him, and touching his face and hair. He slipped away, holding her hand to keep her at bay.

"I'm fine, really. They just... punched me around until they got my bag and when they saw it was full of homework, they tossed it back and left. That's it," he said, hoping she would buy into his lie. She practically deflated, flinging herself at her nephew and grabbing him in a crushing hug. He hissed in pain and shoved her away before he could think better of it.

"Sorry, sorry! Does it really hurt that bad?" she asked hesitantly.

"Just really sore, I-I'll be fine. Gotta get to school, don't wanna be late," he said, inching towards the door. Aunt Cass grabbed a few extra pastries and stuffed them in his lunch sack.

"Don't forget your lunch! I threw in a little something extra."

"Thanks Aunt Cass."

When she didn't answer, he turned around to face her. "What?"

"Maybe have Wasabi walk you home."

"I'll be fine-"

"Well you weren't yesterday!" Cass exclaimed before calming herself with a deep breath. "San Fransokyo isn't the city it used to be. Every day there's something else. It's not safe out there Hiro. At least, not like it used to be."

Hiro stepped closer, reaching out to touch her arm. "I-I know. But Big Hero 6 is taking care of it! They're making sure the city's safe. For everyone."

She sighed, a soft smile finding its way onto her face. "I have to admit, it has brought me some peace of mind. But they're not invincible either. So be careful out there, okay? You see any trouble, you come straight home."

"Yeah okay. I really gotta go now, okay bye!" With one more quick hug, he rushed out the door, Baymax in tow.

He was relieved when he made it to school, and even more relieved that he had open lab first thing. It was a much needed buffer period to wake himself up and attempt to act normal. When he walked in, Honey Lemon tried to mask her grimace with a smile.

"Hirooo! You look..." she trailed off, unable to find a nice way to voice her thoughts. Go-Go took one look at him and decided to answer on her behalf.

"You look like hot garbage. What's up?"

"Nothing! I just couldn't sleep last night, y'know?"

Honey Lemon sat down next to him. "Anything in particular bothering you?"

Yes, everything, he wanted to say.

"Nah, Wasabi and I just finished up late and I wasn't able to get comfortable. And uh... I was thinking about Tadashi," he admitted.

"He would be so proud of you," she said, taking his hand and holding it in both of hers. "But I know he'd also be worried. You need to make sure to take care of yourself, and that includes getting enough rest."

He rolled his eyes, yanking his arm back. "Now you're just sounding like Baymax," he teased. The robot looked their way when he heard his name and shuffled over.

"She is right. Rest is important for someone in your condition."

Honey Lemon whipped around to look at Hiro. "What's he talking about?" Before he could answer, Baymax began to explain.

"Hiro has broken-"

"A broken heart!" he rapidly cut him off. Honey Lemon blinked in surprise and even Go-Go peaked out of her work cubicle, blowing a bubble with her gum to show she was listening in as well.

"Yeeeaaah, I just- can't get over Trina! Yeah, she was the first girl I liked since, um, everything, and her being a robot came as a shock, and I just, I can't get her out of my head," he rambled, silently praying they'd believe him.

"Oh Hiro, that's okay. There's plenty of cute girls your age! You just have to put yourself out there, you'll find someone," she comforted.

Okay, maybe the broken heart route wasn't the way to go, but he panicked.

Go-Go narrowed her eyes, looking him up and down from across the lab.

"I don't know what you're hiding, but you better hope I don't find out," she threatened before going back to her work.

"He's not hiding anything! He's just a little embarrassed about this sort of thing, right Hiro?"

"R-right. I'm nervous because I don't really have anyone to go to about this sort of thing," he bluffed, though there was a fair amount of truth to his words. It just wasn't the problem currently at hand.

"You know you can always come to us about this sort of thing."

Go-Go grunted and went back to her own work.

"Well, you can come to me." She stood up, giving him a kiss on the head before heading to her own station. He wiped off the lipgloss from his forehead, scowling at the sticky glittery smudge on the back of his hand. He wiped it off on his jeans, going back to his notes. And just like that, he was out like a light.

He woke up when his head slipped out of his hand that kept him propped up, face slamming on the desk. He jolted up too fast and hissed in pain, instantly reaching to hold his side, but even his own touch sent a sharp pain through his nerves. He checked to make sure nobody noticed.

Luckily, everyone seemed to be wrapped up in their own projects. He noticed Fred and Wasabi had arrived since he'd fallen asleep. He checked his phone and was shocked to see there was only 15 minutes left in the lab. Fred was talking to Honey Lemon about something and perked up when he noticed Hiro was awake.

She turned around and saw him sitting up at his desk and she turned back to Fred, speaking softly, "Oh Fred, not right now."

He was practically vibrating with excitement, and he was never one to listen. "He just needs a little something to brighten his day," he said with an evil chuckle. He soared across the lab on a rolling chair, skidding to a stop next to Hiro.

"What?"

"There's a new chapter of-"

"Nope." Hiro cut him off, pushing away from the desk and walking towards the door. Fred easily kept up in his wheelie chair and began reading the new chapter aloud.

"We last left our heroes in the abandoned five star restaurant, trapped in the deep freezer by Momakase," Fred narrated with a dramatic voice. Hiro groaned as he reached up to plug his ears. Fred raised his voice.

""What're we gonna do?" Tall Girl cried as-"

"I'm really not that tall," Honey Lemon interjected. Fred gave her a pointed look, making a show of clearing his throat before continuing.

""What're we gonna do?" Tall Girl cried as she failed to melt the hinges off the door. "Stand back, I got this!" Captain Cutie said, his deep voice demanding attention."

Hiro groaned and leaned against the wall, smacking his head repeatedly. "Why do you enjoy torturing me?" he asked weakly.

"Come on, where's that deep, commanding voice of yours?" Fred teased, rolling out of the way when Hiro swatted at him.

"It's not like I could use my normal voice! She would've recognized me for sure!" he felt the need to defend himself.

"No offense, but your voice isn't what she cares about," Go-Go interjected. When everyone stared at her, she shrugged. "What? You made all our suits tight and I've caught her staring," she deadpanned, but a teasing smirk was tugging at her lips.

"Aah-Didn't ask!" he cried, hands flying up to cover his ears. Fred managed to snatch his wrist and pried his hand away from his ear and continued reading.

"Captain Cutie pointed at the giant metal door, looking to Red Panda with a nod. Red Panda shot his rocket fist and blasted the door clean off! It fell to the floor with a heavy clang, a blast of cold air rushing out of the freezer and into the vacant industrial kitchen. As the team escaped their frigid prison, Karmi hesitated."

Fred let out a small gasp before continuing, "Captain Cutie paused in the doorway, looking over his shoulder at his girlfriend. "Aren't you coming?" he asked, voice laced with concern. Karmi looked away, biting her lip. "I'm scared." She felt a gentle hand cup her chin, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. "You have nothing to be afraid of. I'm right here, and I won't let anything happen to you.""

Hiro literally gagged when he heard those words, checking his watch before packing up his things. Despite his clear disinterest, Fred continued reading.

"Karmi's heart skipped a beat, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I know, but Momakase-" Captain Cutie put a finger to her lips, cutting her off. "Shhh. I know what you're going to say. It's not your fault Karmi." She took his hand, lacing their fingers together. The simple touch was comforting for them both. Karmi sighed, "But if she hadn't kidnapped me, we'd all be safe." Her voice was dejected and her shoulders sagged downward. Captain Cutie placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Look at me. It is not your fault, okay? We're gonna get through this. Together." She nodded hesitantly, offering a timid smile. Suddenly, the sound of Chop Chop's voice echoed down the hall calling for them. Karmi took a step towards the open doorway, only for Captain Cutie to grab ahold of her wrist. She looked over her shoulder to see her boyfriend raise the face shield of his helmet. "Wha-" but before she could speak, he pulled her close, their bodies flush against each other. He leaned in, slowly closing the distance before their lips me-"

Thank God the bell cut him off before he could finish that sentence. Hiro grabbed his bag and bolted out the door as fast as his fractured ribs would allow him to move.

As soon as he was out of view from his friends, he dropped the normal facade and a pained expression settled on his face. He walked to an empty table in the hall and dug around his backpack until he found the bottle of ibuprofen he'd packed that morning. He chugged down a few gulps from his water bottle, leaning against Baymax's squishy body for support and comfort.

The distinct sound of clacking heels on linoleum approached from behind and passed him in the hall. The footsteps came to a halt before turning around and approaching Hiro.

"Mr. Hamada?"

Hiro jumped to attention with a yelp of surprise and pain as his eyes flew open. Professor Granville was staring at him with confused concern, looking him up and down.

"Professor Granville! I-I was just on my way to class!"

"Mhm, so I see. I was hoping to run into you."

Hiro's stomach sank like a rock. "Y-you did? If this is about the expo, I already have a solid idea for my project."

She gave a tight lipped smile. "I'm glad to hear that, though that's not what I wished to discuss." She took a seat on the table next to Hiro's bag. "I saw the bank robbery on the news this morning. That was quite a hit you took on the vault door, and I just wanted to see if you're alright."

Her genuine concern both touched and shocked him. "Oh, uh, thanks but I'm okay." When she arched a skeptical brow, he sighed in defeat. "Baymax says I have fractures on two ribs on the left side. But I've been taking pain meds every few hours and I'll ice it when I get home. Thanks for looking out for me," he said, voice small.

Granville's expression softened. "I'm... sorry to hear that Hiro. When I was about your age, my father fell off the roof when cleaning out the gutters. He broke a rib when he hit a branch on the way down, and it was really hard on him. It's okay to take breaks when you need them Hiro."

He was quiet for a few moments. "I know, but I can't really afford that right now. Aunt Cass would want an explanation, and everyone would worry even more than they already do and- People need me to be there." His voice was on the verge of desperation.

Professor Granville's eyes widened as he spoke. "You mean you haven't told them?"

"Well Aunt Cass kinda knows? She could tell I was hurt so I lied and told her some guy tried to steal my backpack. But I didn't really tell her."

"But wasn't Wasabi with you when it happened?"

"Yeah, but you know how he is. He'd freak out, maybe faint, he'd make a huge deal over it," he explained. Granville frowned.

"Take it from me, broken ribs are nothing to scoff at. They require time and rest to heal properly. And to attempt to hide such a thing..." she trailed off and shook her head. She stood, brushing off her skirt. "I'm disappointed Mr Hamada." She took a few steps, stopping in front of Baymax.

"Take care of him."

Baymax blinked. "Hiro is my primary patient. His health is my top priority." She smiled sadly, patting his puffy arm as she passed. Hiro watched her walk down the hall, groaning as he laid down on the table.

Thankfully class went by rather quickly, but the day was already wearintg down on him. Needless to say, he was ready for lunch. He met Wasabi on his way out of the classroom, his mind distant as Wasabi talked about his upcoming thesis. He tried to remain engaged, but Wasabi could tell he wasn't fully listening.

"Somethin' on your mind little man? You know you can talk to me." His tone was light and casual, offering him a friendly smile. Hiro automatically returned it with a smile of his own, though his was considerably less genuine.

"Yeah, everything's just been a lot. And I slept like crap last night."

"Everything alright?"

"I guess. I just couldn't get my brain to shut up, and I kept thinking about Tadashi. Just... one of those nights, y'know?"

Wasabi frowned as he spoke, and he wrapped an arm around Hiro's shoulders.

"Sadly I do. Grief is hard, and it's not something that just goes away. It can help to talk about it, even if it's pretty much the last thing you wanna do."

"Thanks Wasabi, but I don't think I'm really ready to talk..."

"Hey, that's okay! Forget I said anything. But just know the offer's open anytime." He gave his shoulder a friendly pat before heading down the stairs. Hiro watched the way he gripped the handrail for dear life, taking them one step at a time. He could hear him mumbling under his breath, "Stupid stairs, so steep it feels like I'm climbing down a mountain."

Hiro huffed out a quick chuckle before following him to the cafeteria. Professor Granville's words echoed in his mind, a pang of guilt coursing through him as he stared at the back of Wasabi's head.

The day was really starting to take its toll on him, and it showed in his quiet, slightly exhausted demeanor. He picked at his lunch, only feeling up to eating half of it, opting to idly poke at the rest. He tuned in and out of the conversation at random. Luckily no one seemed to notice his disassociated state, or if they did, they decided not to pry.

Karmi was walking through the cafeteria when she spotted their table, a mischievous smirk tugging at her lips. Creeping up behind Hiro, she held a finger to her lips to signal the rest of the group to keep quiet.

"BOO!" she screamed as she lunged forward, grabbing him on either side. Karmi had expected hun to jump, maybe shriek like a scared little girl. But the scream that ripped from Hiro's throat was one of genuine pain. Karmi immediately jumped back, holding her hands in the air. He was doubled over clutching his lower ribs, a low groan escaping his lips.

Everyone froze in shock, mouths agape.as they stared at them. "Um, what was that?" Go-Go asked, shooting daggers at Karmi, then Hiro.

"I barely touched him, I swear!" she insisted, guilt written all over her face.

"It's fine," he grunted out.

"I'm sorry Karmi, could you excuse us for a second?" Honey Lemon asked in her usual bubbly voice.

"Uh, yeah sure. You sure you're okay Hiro?" she asked, reaching out with a gentle hand. He flinched away from the touch.

"Yes, okay?" he snapped in irritation. He took a deep breath and sighed in defeat. "I'm sorry, but I kinda need to talk about something, so could you give us a little privacy?"

"Oh! Um, yeah, of course." She walked away, shooting a worried glance over her shoulder. Go-Go and Wasabi spoke at the same time.

"Wanna tell us what all that was about?"

"I thought you said you were okay!"

"Hold up, what is going on?" Fred asked, looking around the table cluelessly.

"I asked you! I asked if you were okay and you lied to my face!" Wasabi exclaimed.

"B-But I didn't-"

Wasabi cut him off, which was never a good sign. "I'm talking about last night," he said sternly, arms crossed over his chest. Oh he was pissed.

"I didn't want you to worry?" he said, voice small and timid as he sank further in his seat.

"Well now we're all worried. So spill."

Hiro didn't speak for a while, but he finally decided it was time to come clean. "Last night when I was thrown into the bank vault, I apparently fractured a few ribs." He barreled on when he saw Wasabi open his mouth to retort. "But this is exactly why I didn't wanna say anything! I knew you'd freak out, and you wouldn't let me patrol with you guys."

"But didn't you make a remote controlled suit? You can still patrol and get the rest you need," Honey Lemon said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off.

"Yeah, but it's not the same. It makes it feel so... distant. But I guess I don't really have a choice, do I?" he snarked, sinking even lower in the chair. He was definitely pouting, but he'd never admit it.

"Just until you're healed, okay Hiro?" Honey Lemon said in a chipper tone to try to lift his spirits. It didn't seem to work.

"Yeah okay, sure. Whatever."

A buzz in his pocket grabbed his attention. He pulled out his phone, checking his texts. It was from Krei. Greeeaaat.

Hey kiddo!

"Ugh," Hiro scoffed and rolled his eyes, continuing to read.

Don't bother stopping by for the internship today, I'm giving you the day off! See, I can be a nice boss! I have to get ready for a date and I don't really like the idea of you having free reign in my lab.

Hiro had barely begun to type a response when another text came through.

Don't be mad, but I'm taking Cass out to dinner. I stopped by the café on my lunch break and apologized for last time and she said she'd give me a second chance! :D Mochi seemed to think it was a good idea HAHA! Fr though, hope you're not mad at me.

Hiro was more than mad: he was seething.

He threw his phone down on the table and snapped the plastic fork he'd been clutching in half. "Can this day get any worse!"

Fred leaned in, reading the texts over his shoulder. "Look on the bright side, you don't have to go to work! Buuut Krei is still trying to make a move on your aunt so I see your dilemma," he pondered aloud, stroking his chin in thought.

"Ew. I thought she was done with him after that whole imposter incident," Go-Go said through a mouthful of sushi.

"You know how she is, she's way too nice to turn someone down, especially now that I work for the guy. And it doesn't help that she still thinks he's," he paused as a shiver ran down his spine. "Handsome." A chorus of ew's and gross rang out across the table.

"Hey, it's alright bud. She'll come to her senses and realize he's just another corporate sleaze like everyone says he is," Wasabi consoled him.

"But that's just it! He's not that empty shell of a Ken doll we're used to, and that's what I hate! I mean, yeah he's pretty much the most annoying adult I've ever met, but he's honestly halfway decent. He can be nice if he wants to be, and he's actually funny. Cass loves men who can make her laugh! What am I gonna do?" he cried out miserably, flopping against Wasabi's shoulder.

"It'll be okay Hiro. Even if this date goes well, he's bound to fumble the ball at some point. Then, she'll see what a turd burglar he really is and drop him like a hot potato," Fred said with such confidence, Hiro actually believed him.

"Thanks guys, really. It means a lot.

"Any time."

"Today's been... a lot. I think I'm gonna head up to the lab and work on some stuff."

"Want any company?"

"Thanks for the offer but I'll pass. Think I just need some time to myself, maybe take a nap. We'll see," he shrugged, turning around to head towards his lab. Tadashi's lab. Yeah, he needed to be alone.

He was working on a prototype for a more efficient saltwater purification system when he heard the door open. He responded without looking up, deep in his work despite his hunched posture wrecking havoc on his battered ribcage.

"Look, I appreciate you guys checking up on me, but I just want to be alone right no-" he froze as he sat up to face the intruder, expecting Fred or maybe Honey Lemon, but instead Karmi was standing in the doorway.

"Relax nerd, it's just me. I uh, brought a peace offering." Hiro furrowed his brows in confusion before noticing the ice pack in her hand.

"Y-you really didn't have to do that," he insisted, but she cut him off.

"I didn't know you were hurt, I was just trying to scare you. Professor Granville told me you broke a few ribs. I'm really sorry."

"It's fine, you didn't know."

Karmi took a seat next to him. He gave her a side eye and scooted away.

"From the sound of it, your friends didn't know either." When Hiro didn't answer, she continued. "Why didn't you tell them?"

"They already worry about me, I didn't want to give them an actual reason to. They were all Tadashi's friends first, and he's the one who introduced me. I just feel like... now that he's gone, they think they have to watch out for me on his behalf or something. I don't know, it just makes me feel like some kind of burden. Like, I can look out for myself!" Karmi blinked in shock, not expecting him to open up like that.

"I'm sorry for dumping all this on you."

"Don't be. I'm... I'm glad you told me. Sometimes, I think the regular college students forget what it was like to be a teen. Surprising seeing as it was just a few years ago for them," she chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. He offered a short lived smile, which was good enough for her.

"Heh, guess you're right."

"Aren't I always?"

"Ha, you wish."

They fell into an awkward silence, both of them adverting their gaze.

"Well, I guess I should go, you seemed pretty busy when I walked in."

Hiro pressed the ice pack against his arching ribs and visibly relaxed under the cold pressure. "You don't have to go, since you're already in here." She silently accepted the offer with a smug grin as sat back down.

"Well if you insist. Oh! I just posted a new chapter of my fic, want me to read it while you work?"

Although he wasn't able to hide the full body cringe that overtook him, he merely nodded, accepting his fate. She'd read it regardless, might as well give her permission.

Hiro's life was overwhelming to say the least. The loss of his brother, becoming a superhero, unmasking a villain, it was a lot to deal with. But sometimes, there were days that just threw everything at him. Broken ribs, a self insert written by his worst frenemy (where they're daring no less), his friends finding out about said injury, and his boss is trying to date his aunt was a lot to deal with individually, so having all of that happen within 24 hours was extremely overwhelming. But he wasn't alone. He had people who cared about him. He would just have to take it as it comes and deal with it one day at a time.

One thing after another.

#big hero 6 #big hero 6 fic #hiro hamada #baymax #honey lemon #go go tomago #wasabi #fred frederickson iv #fred frederickson #aunt cass #professor grandville #karmi #hiro x karmi #if you squint #alistair krei

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therealjordan23 · 2 years

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huntlow back in the human realm fic, enjoy

To her own dismay, once again, Willow Park’s eyes fluttered open to nothing but darkness. It was the third time in a row she found herself waking up in the middle of the night, and she abhorred it. She thought she was cranky enough, even with a full night’s worth of sleep. This choppy new sleep schedule her body had suddenly adapted to seemed to dictate her mood for the following day.

It was their eighth day back at The Boiling Isles. Willow still very clearly remembered the awful few days she and her friends had spent wandering through a barren wasteland, with no food or water. Once they reached their breaking point, Gus, through his sharp ability to spot illusions, saw a forest that looked a little too densely packed. Needless to say, the remaining members of the Isles were in hiding, and were more than welcoming to the newcomers.

As she reunited with her parents, she vaguely remembered Hunter standing off to the side bitterly before storming off. She hadn’t seen much of him since they had reunited with the townsfolk, and she assumed his absences played a part into her new choppy and rhythmless sleep schedule.

Willow wasn’t sure when exactly it had happened, but during their whole texting phase through Penstagram, he would usually text her late at night due to his former Golden Guard duties taking up most of his day. Willow didn’t mind though, she looked forward to their late night conversations. Eventually, it became so that she usually fell asleep best knowing that Hunter was safe and tucked into bed. However, ever since they had stepped foot through that portal, he had been closed off and distant. He didn't want her or anyone else nearby. He had put up walls around him, quite literally and metaphorically, and Willow felt absolutely shattered at the fact that she was being shut out. Maybe the reason she wasn't able to sleep well was because she didn't know if he was alright or not.

Unable to sleep, she quietly crept out of bed, careful not to wake Luz and Amity who were quietly cuddled up on the other bed. She strolled to the hall and towards the balcony to get some fresh air. She frowned when she noticed that the balcony doors were already open, and felt a cool breeze brush against her face. As she got closer, Willow’s heart skipped a beat when she found that it was Hunter who was leaning against the balcony railing, the moonlight bouncing off of his toned, bare back. Willow loved his scars, heck, she thought it made him more attractive than he already was, but she couldn’t help but wince at the new scars Belos had inflicted.

She hesitated. Did he want her nearby?

Willow strutted across the hallway until she was standing mere inches from his lean back. She hesitated though. There was a good chance that he would deny her.

But she reached out anyway.

Her arms circled around his waist, and she pulled herself into the tan, scarred skin that lined his back. She brought her lips to his shoulder slowly, and placed a soft kiss on his skin before turning and resting a soft cheek along his muscle—at first, he simply melted into her embrace. There was no hesitance, no resistance. Only compliance. Only pure instinct.

But as expected, it ended as soon as it had begun.

Before she could open her mouth to protest, he had stood up straight and gently pried her hands away from his core. Then, to top it off, he somehow pushed away from the balcony and forced a path to the bedroom he and Gus were staying in.

Not even a word. Just pure rejection.

Ouch.

He was about halfway when she finally got the nerve to speak up. To finally ask.

"Did I do something?" With every word, she could feel that pressure on her lungs lifting only to be replaced by the silence hanging in the air between them.

He kept his back to her.

"You owe me an explanation. At least give me that!" she said, her tone coming out sharper than she intended it to.

At some point, her voice had cracked, and she knew that it wouldn't be long before the waterworks started. Each word seemed to slice through her throat on its way out, and by the end, her voice was raspy.

"You didn't do anything." Defeat reverberated from his raspy voice.

"Then talk to me, Hunter! You won't even look at me anymore."

The anger now lacing her voice was wasted on her crush, as he started to turn and move towards his room once more.

She snapped. "Hunter, I swear on the Titan. If you leave, I will leave. I will leave, and I won't come back to you."

He stopped in his tracks, and went stiff and rigid. Willow trembled, and she hoped that Hunter wouldn't throw away the entire friendship and relationship they’ve built with a few more insolent steps.

She sighed. "I know you're upset about Flapjack. And I know you think you can carry this burden. But you can't. You just can't."

Her heart broke as she saw the outline of his face falter and reveal the real Hunter. Not this steely stranger who refused to speak more than a sentence in her company. The real one: the one being torn apart at every limb.

In his moment of hesitation, she closed the space between them, so she was cradling his face in her palms.

"Just talk to me."

"I can't." As he spoke, his eyelids flew open and finally revealed all the pain swimming in the depths of his eyes. She was about to plead for his cooperation, but her cries were cut short when he continued.

"I can't do this, Willow."

Crestfallen.

"This?"

She prepared herself for the final blow. This was the end. He really was tired of their lackluster friendship. All her fears had been true.

"I ruined everything. I'm a failure." He looked at her with teary, red eyes. "I let you down."

When he looked at her, she swore those chesnut eyes shot beams of steel right through her heart. She had no words to describe the new emotion.

She quieted a brow. "What? You didn't do anything." Her voice pleaded for him to understand that nothing he ever did could let her down.

"Yet."

The word was sharp but it carried the load that had been riding around in those deep dark husks of purple peeking out from beneath his eyes. So she asked that one question that she had avoided for eight days.

"Hunter. What happened? Why are you being like this?"

The question was tentative, and even with her cooing tone, she could see his shoulder muscles tense at the string of words. His gaze fled away from her own once more and he took a small step backwards.

"I betrayed you."

The two teenagers stayed like that for a long moment. As if they were stuck in a sudden stalemate. Willow couldn't bring herself to speak, or even move for that matter. She was stunned that he would think of such a thing, that he would really throw away their friendship over Belos possessing him. Because of how his own mind perceived the assault—he looked tired, and his dark eyes were a dead giveaway to how long he had been lying awake, thinking about this very conversation.

She shook out of her stupor, and faced him—she didn't know what she was doing until she was rushing forward, with no other goal than to hold onto him forever. Her soft hands gently cupped his face, and she kissed him. Her eyes were clenched in an eternal hopefulness, and her lips were pressed against his own pleading mouth.

For a split second there was resistance. She felt the rebellious force that he had used to not accept her hugs, her pleas, and her pitiful attempts at comfort. But his resolve ebbed and eventually he accepted the kiss with a fervor that had been absent for days. He seemed to melt against her as a wild hand was pressed into her untamed, bedhead hair and another hastily guided her jaw deeper into his own.

They pulled apart, breathing heavily.

"You're insane." she decided.

"W-what?" he stammered, happily dazed, still trying to catch his breath from the kiss.

"Hunter, you never betrayed anyone. Belos took advantage of you. Why can't you see that?!" she demanded.

He sighed. “I’m not sure… it’s just how I think. Like my brain is hardwired to hate myself,” he floundered helplessly, clearly still recovering from the kiss.

Her heart shattered at his words. “Well, you need to work on not thinking those thoughts. You know how harsh your own thoughts can be against you?”

He nodded numbly, and Willow pulled him in for a long hug. A few minutes later, Hunter pulled away, smiling; albeit a faint one, but it was there.

“What?” she asked.

“You kissed me.”

Willow blushed as the high she had felt from the flurry of emotions died down, and realized what exactly she had done. She had kissed him! No intro, no confession of how she feels about him, no buildup, just bam! Their first kiss. Just like that.

“Oh my Titan!” she hissed, facepalming herself and blushing. “I didn’t even ask you! Hunter I am so sorry, it was just in the heat of the momen—”

She was cut off by yet another kiss, this time initiated by him. This one was a lot slower and tender. He placed one hand on her waist, and another cupped her jaw as he drew her closer. Willow sighed contentedly into his mouth: this was dangerously addicting. Willow let herself melt into him, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

A few minutes later, they pulled apart purely for the lack of air.

"We should stop," Willow mumbled against his soft lips. "Unless we want to get caught."

He pecked her one more time, and placed a soft one against her forehead.

"Thanks, Willow," he smiled after pulling away. "I mean it."

"I care about you," she whispered. "And if you ever want to talk… or do more of, err that," she added with a heavy blush, thankful for the darkness that was able to hide it. "Then we can meet here."

He smiled bashfully, blushing. "I-I'd like that."

With that, both teens bid each other a good night, and went back to their respective bedrooms.

And for the first time since returning home, Willow slept peacefully.

#toh #the owl house #hunter toh #the owl house hunter #huntlow #hunter the golden guard #hunter wittebane #hunter noceda #how many fucking last names do i have to tag #willow park #hunter x willow #willow x hunter #luz noceda #amity blight #gus porter #lumity

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