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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months

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Passion for Fashion Part 3

Danny nervously twirls his thumbs as Dan paces before him, mumbling insults to the Waynes under his breath. They were supposed to go third in the walkway line, as it was supposed to be in alphabetical order, but just as the computation was going to begin, a disaster struck.

Tim Drake-Wayne had been kidnapped. In broad daylight, as the teenage CO-CEO was getting out of his limo, a group of men broke through the crowd, swinging guns around and demanding everyone to get on the ground and give them their valuables.

Of course, there were security who attempted to gain control of the situation, but it seemed that three of their newest hires were traitors and in on the heist. A shoot-out was ensured.

Drake-Wayne had been taken in the chaos, and Bruce Wayne had passed out from worry. He and the rest of his kids were on their way to a hospital- a secret location to deter further kidnappings of the remaining Waynes- and the first runway of the competition was canceled.

Danny hadn't seen anything from the model changing room, but Dan had forgotten his make-up bag in the front entry and had gone back for it while Danny changed. He had been front and center when the whole thing went down.

"Who just lets themselves get taken like that!?" Dan huffs, practically spitting fire. According to the ghost, Tim Drake-Wayne's actions were an act, and the teenager had been able to get away from his kidnappers but didn't.

Dan found his nonaction insulting since it paused his fashion show.

"Um, look around you? Situation awareness." Danny tells him, gesturing to the cage they had been shoved into. While the people had been preoccupied with Tim Drake-Wayne's kidnapping, a second group of men had gone in through the backdoor and taken all the models.

Danny had thought it was the staff moving them until he noticed a few people crying as they were placed into vans. In his defense, most people aren't used to seeing someone armed like he is, so the gun-waving hadn't tipped him off.

Dan had joined him later when he followed the coordinator- another traitor- to the vans, and his counterpart had only gotten upset when they took his make-up bag.

"Please, this is just metal." Dan rolls his eyes, bending the bars and straightening them out again to prove his point. Danny doesn't mention the electric buzz the bars release, as neither is really affected by the shock. It's more of an annoying light show. "Sides, it's not like we're human. Not like them."

He tilts his chin to where other models sob in their cages below. They are all waiting for their new owners to pick them up. At least, that's what Danny was able to gather from the men's taunts. They were taken by human traffickers, who had buyers look at the competition lineup and pick which model they wanted before the actual kidnapping.

Danny and Dan were in such high demand they would be sold at an auction that would take place while the rest of their pals kept the Bats busy. Danny had no idea who the Bats were or why they would save them instead of the police.

"Tell the whole world why don't you?" Danny hisses, twirling his thumbs more " If they found out what we are we could be turned over to this world version of the Guys In White."

"Oh no, I'm shaking in my human boots." Dan rolls his eyes. He resumes his pacing. "If the Waynes had taken this seriously, we could have been seeing the results of the judge's panel already."

"Dan, this is a little more important than your fashion Obsession."

"Excuse you, my Obsession is a medical condition," Dan huffs, sliding down the cage bars, and for a brief second, his hair flickered to white before it settled back into black. A flash of pain crosses his face. "My core is killing me."

Danny winces. "Right, sorry, that was insensitive. How about I steal you some paper and pens so you can design a ball gown?"

"I like that."

Danny turns to the bars, bending them open and closing them behind him. He carefully makes his way across the giant shipping crates, to an office at the top right corner.

They are at the docks, hidden somewhere in a warehouse among many crates that will be shipped out, and Danny is honestly a little offended they have yet to be found. Sure, the kidnappers had driven through the sewers on a strangely built road that led them here, but surely someone would have noticed the apparent fact the van disappeared at a fake dead alley?

Weren't there cameras in almost every corner of the city? Dan had warned Danny about them while doing his Obsession-driven research, and both agreed not to Go Ghost while in public due to them.

Now, they could escape, but Danny wasn't kidding about the Guys in White or whatever their equivalent was here. He would rather know what level of competence they have before he makes any rash moves.

Danny also wants to see his fellow models' buyers, and he would like to have a word with them. His ghost Obsession may not be protection- much to the shock of many- but Danny has always had a moral compass that pointed to protecting others around him.

Dan knew and respected this about him, so his counterpart was willing to sit and wait for the buyers. He's just a little angsty since it disrupted his obsession.

Danny grimly peeks into the office window when he sees the coordinator talking on a phone. There doesn't seem to be anyone else around, so he carefully opens the door and creeps up behind the man.

"-If you ever want to see your son again," The man is saying, smirking. Danny can't see it due to the man facing away from him, but he can hear it in his voice.

On the desk is a laptop that repeats what he said only, the sound sounds robotic and unrecognizable. Is that a voice changer? "I suggest you ask Batman to find your boy before it's too late."

Batman? The man they were supposed to help save his humanity?

Danny knows it's a risk, but this is too much of a chance to pass up. He carefully picks up the office chair and brings it down hard on the disgusting man's head. The coordination lets out a chocked grunt of pain, but he's out like a light when he hits the ground. His phone flies across the floor, and a voice is heard speaking urgently.

Danny ties the man to the bolted-down desk using zip ties- the same ones they had used on him and the rest earlier that day, before picking up the phone.

"Hello? Is this Batman?" Danny asks, jumping slightly when the laptop repeats him in a creepy robotic voice. "Wait hold on, I think I can get rid of this voice thingy."

"...what?" A man asks over the phone, but Danny pays him no mind as he tries to click some boxes.

"Hello, testing one two three," Danny says, wincing when the voice changer makes him sound high and unnaturally squeaky. He sounds like he's trying to audition for Alvin and the Chipmunks. "Hello? Hello? Wait, I think I got it."

"Who are you? Where is Tim?" The man asks, and Danny almost rolls his eyes. He hates it when someone interrupts him while he's working with tech.

"Wait-there it is! Can you hear me alright? Do I sound normal?"

"....I can hear you."

"Awesome! Are you Batman, and if so, have you considered the importance of mental health activities? Like hugging your kids once a day? That really boosts your serotonin and dopamine levels." Danny asks, attempting to channel Jazz as much as he can. There is muffled sound across the phone line, like someone is attempting to smother a laugh.

"No, this is Bruce Wayne." Mr. Wayne says after a moment pause, "You have my son?"

"Oh," Danny tries not to sound as disappointed as he feels, but he may have failed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne I don't think your son is here. I think they were using him to distract you and the police of the missing models."

There is a strange lake of sound on the other line before Mr. Wayne responds. "Can you tell me who I am speaking to?"

"Danny Fenton. I was one of the models that was taken." Danny says, then he realizes the cops must be listening in because that always happens in movies; he lowers his voice and tries to sound in shock. "I think we're in a warehouse? I'm not sure, but I was in a cage when I woke up. They said they're going to sell us. I escaped, but there were guards everywhere, so I tried hiding in the office and heard the man you were speaking to come in. I hit him with a chair."

"Mr.Fenton," A new man says suddenly, "I know this is a terrifying situation, and I-"

"Are you Batman?"

"....No, son, I'm Commissioner Gordon"

"Oh."

"Do you want to speak to Batman?"

"Yes."

"Can I ask why?"

"I need to tell him to hug his kids."

Danny waits a few seconds for a response, but he hears nothing, not even the wind. They must have muted themselves. He leans on the desk, mindful to give the kidnapper a solid kick to make sure he's still out, and glancing over to the window to make sure there aren't any guards coming his way.

"Mr. Fenton, did they give you anything strange?" Commissioner Gordon asks

Danny thinks for a moment before humming. "They gave all of us something in a needle. I don't know what it was, but it felt funny. My brother has been acting weird since he got it."

"Okay, you're doing good. " Commissioner Gordon sounds like he is frowning but the words cause something in Danny's core to pur."Okay, son, everything is going to be alright. I need you to do something for me. Every Gotham warehouse has a serial number; you can find it in the main office on the power box. Do you see the box?"

Danny glances around until he sees the small little green box. He hurries over to it, throwing the door open. "I found it."

"Good. Can you read me the number?"

Danny reads them off as quickly as he can. Once all ten digits are within the police's hands he asks again. "Do you know if Batman partakes in his kid's interests?"

"I can ask him for you."

"Would you? That would be great. It's important to let people know you care about them by showing an interest in what they are passionate about. My brother Dan really likes making clothes, and even though I don't think I can model, I do it for him, you know?"

"You're a good brother."

"Thank you.....I'm tired Mr. Gordon." Danny says suddenly eyelids becoming heavy. He slides down the wall a lot like Dan did before.

"I'm sorry to hear that but I need you to keep talking to me, Mr. Fenton."

"Batman should tell his kids he loves them. His love language may be an act of service, but Nightwings' is words of affirmation. Nightwing needs to be told he's loved."

"Mr. Fenton! Stay awake for me! Mr.Fenton!" Danny hears someone yelling, but his core is purring even more now, and the sound is luring him to sleep. Suddenly he thinks of his counterpart in the cage waiting for his paper and pen.

"I have to go. I promised Dan I would get him some stuff so he could design some clothes. Bye-Bye."

"No! Don't hang up-!"

Danny drops the cell phone after pressing the end call button and ignores it when it rings again. He hurries over to the desk, looking for paper, but finds the table lacking. Thankfully, an open suitcase has sheets that he borrowed and a few pens.

He takes them all and runs back over the crates to where Dan is. Once he arrives, he notices many models are no longer distressed. All of them are smiling with a dazed look, and a few are even giggling. He waves at a few as he hurries back to his cage.

Dan is there, muttering under his breath and twisting his fingers in the air as if he were drawing in the sky. Danny bends the bars and holds up his prize. "I got the stuff!"

"Thank the ancients! I was never going to finish Mr. Hot scales suit without it!" Dan cheers, turning one of the sheets over to a clean side. He throws his whole body on the ground, using the smooth surface to start his ball gown.

Danny watches him for a moment before his purring core is too much. Dan reaches out to grip his leg, enclosing it in his warm palm and that's all Danny needs before he's fast asleep.

Dan continues to draw for a few more minutes before he, too, is overcome with sleep. Neither notices Red Hood or Robin bursting into the warehouse, guns and swords blazing, just as the buyers arrive. They or any of the models are unaware of the smackdown that happens until everyone involved with the scheme is behind bars.

Robin finds their cage, stepping through the bent bars and pausing at the sheets of paper scattered across the slumbering teenagers. He flips one incredibly designed ballgown only to have his eyes widen at what's written down.

"Robin to Batman," he says, staring at the paper and pressing his communicator. "I have a complete list of everyone who was buying today and past buyers. We can dismantle an entire ring with this."

"Good work, Robin."

"It wasn't I who found it. It was the Fentons."

".....Are they hurt?"

"Drugged but otherwise unharmed."

"Good."

There is a pause before Nightwing speaks up "Tell me you love me B."

"No"

Danny Fenton's eyes briefly open to stare into a surprised Robin's eyes. "Tell him Batman his humanity is at risk. Says the Ghost King."

"They gave him the good shit," Spolior laughs, having heard Fenton through the coms.

Elsewhere, Tim Drake-Wayne stares at Killer Croc aka Waylon Jones who is replaying the video of Dan Fenton catcalling Waylon from his cage right after the fashion designer was dosed with high levels of morphine.

"Hey Papi, why don't you come up here and let me dress you up in the proper wrapping for a walking gift like you?"

"Hey...hey are you from the EverBurning tribe? Cause those are the hotest legs and tail I have ever seen!"

"Mr.Hot Scales, I promise Danny is the only ally of FarFrozen. I'm team EverBurning all the way! Kiss me!"

"What the actual fuck?" Tim asks, and Waylon nods.

"I have no idea, kid. The first time any of my merchandise flirts with me."

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Passion for Fashion #Part 3 #tw: human trafficking #tw: drugs #Danny and Dan were somewhat able to fight off the drug #Dan was in his right mind when he was catcalling #Look Dan is more ghost then human and thus finds nonhumans hot #Danny's obsession was hinted. Can you spot it?#The twins got in situation #Bruce is worried about them

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i-wanna-die-like-now · 1 year

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Dp x bnha headcanons part 2! Or just weirdly specific things I see happening, idk just my thoughts on stuff.

Tsuyu gets super sleepy around Danny because of his ice powers and almost always struggles with being directly next to him, unlike Todoroki he doesn't have a warm side she can stick to.

Iida almost breaks down when Danny refused to listen to his rules by clicking on his aids (suppression for his sensitive hearing) Bakugou on the other hand finds it hilarious and takes to turning his own aids off when he no longer wants to listen.

Sato invites Danny to his weekly “sugar time” to teach him how to bake as a favour, Danny is surprisingly good at it and eventually him and Sato work together to include ectoplasm into their baking (without it coming to life) so Danny could top up his energy.

^^Bakugou refuses to let Danny near him when he cooks because of that very reason, he'd seen what his ectoplasm can do to food, he does still cook for him on occasion because he's never seen anyone savour his food the way Danny does! It most definitely goes to his head. Danny savours the food because 1. His parents can't cook to save their life. 2. Bakugous food is so much better than any type of take out and 3. He never knows when his next proper meal will be back home and is taking full advantage.

Danny goes to Hatsume for help with making a Fenton thermos (just in case) and she falls in love with the blueprints because what in the world was that layout, it's a mess that she finds thrilling to decipher it. Actually talking to Danny she realizes that no its not a mess he just has ADHD and can't write it down in a way anyone but him understood. (Danny is a genius and you can't convince me otherwise, he just has untreated ADHD 😭)

When Toga drinks Danny's blood her body has trouble with picking what form she changes into and they merge together, eyes changing and flashing in between green and blue and her hair being a mix of black and white. Her face almost looks exactly like Danny but something is off, his eyes are a little too big, his ears are a mix of pointed and normal and his skin has blotches of tan skin and deathly pale. She is fascinated with his green blood though and really wants to taste it, when she finally does get to it burns her tongue and throat and leaves her craving more. (If she separated the ectoplasm from the blood, which is virtually impossible, she'd be able to use the blood for Fenton and ectoplasm for Phantom. Because its the same DNA her quirk registers it as one person when mixed together and that's what causes them to blend)

Stain on the other hand would hate the taste and then finds out his quirk doesn't actually work on him properly, it makes his body heavy and very hard to move but it doesn't paralyze him completely because of the ectoplasm. He also definitely sees the potential Danny has.

Danny info dumps about space to everyone and everything at any chance he can, someone asks a question that shows they have a mild interest in the subject and he's off like a rocket. Izuku joins in with his own info dumping about heroes and their quirks, it somehow merges together and they start talking about space quirks and space themed heros.

Uraraka brings up sending him to space with her quirk halfway through a disagreement and Danny straight up drops it and asks her is she would. "Don't worry I can survive if I'm in my ghost form, it's for science! Hey- No wait don't walk away!" He ends up moping around for a whole week after and when Aizawa asked why he loses 5 years off his life. "Please don't ask your classmates to try and kill you." "But sir I'm already dea-" "get out!"

He duplicates himself so he can hold both of Eris hands to swing her, Eri loves to try and figure out which one is the original and she's surprisingly good at it.

Todoroki uses his fire side to help with Danny's chronic pain, after a while it becomes a habit to hold hands and all their spare time they're glued to eachother, neither of them are complaining.

#danny phantom #danny phantom fandom #danny fenton #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero acedamia #dp x bnha #bnha headcannons #danny phantom hc

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heartbreakgrill · 7 months

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stiles stilinski: breakable heaven; pt. 7, “i’m drunk in the back of the car and i cried like a baby coming home from the bar. said, ‘I'm fine,’ but it wasn't true.”

a/n: sad, but gets hopeful! one more part after this, i think :)

“i’m glad i never ended up having a party at my house.”

danny fell into step beside y/n, their shoes scuffing against the sidewalk. they had to park all the way down the street from jack’s house because there were so many other people here. because it was so late at night, the air in beacon hills was cool. y/n hugged her arms around herself, wishing she hadn’t worn a tank top beneath her jacket. her breath came out like a fog as she spoke.

danny made a face at the thought, “too much work. imagine the clean up.”

“yeah, no thanks,” she shivered.

the music coming from the house ahead of them got louder as they neared it. some popular radio song reverberated in their ears. y/n felt her heart beat in her throat, thumping along to the bass. danny lit up once they reached the door, excited to drink, dance.

he always was the party type. he had so much fun moving to the music, losing himself in the crowd.

on the other hand, there was y/n, who didn’t normally drink at parties. she was a go-to for being the designated driver, choosing to watch out for her friends and play with whatever animal the owner of the house had sniffing around.

tonight, however, she wanted to let loose. needed to, more so.there was nothing better after a heartbreak than getting messy-drunk at a high school party.

it had been a week. a whole week since her and stiles’ fall out. a week since she’d seen his face. sure, she saw his figure in the hallways sometimes, but she would run the other way. he’d start to chase her down, but danny was usually close by and he’d shoot stiles a glaring look. it turned him away. he’d texted her nonstop, called her about a million times. but, after the fourth day, when he realized she just wouldn’t be responding, he stopped. all lines of communication fell out. any hope of fixing what was broken was squashed out.

when y/n thought about it too much, she felt sick. nausea tumbled through her stomach. her head became fuzzy. stupid, naive girl, she’d think to herself. it’s all your fault. so, every single time her mind started to wander, she’d shove her nose into her homework, pick up a shift at work, get so high out of her mind that reality felt like a television show.

tonight, her choice of thought erasure was getting wasted at a high school party.

y/n squeezed her hand around danny’s bicep once they walked in. in response, he kept her close to his side as they wormed through jack’s house, in search of their friend group. eventually, they found leo, megan, jack, and a few others. they were in the kitchen, standing around the island counter. glasses were scattered around the house already, though the party had just started barely an hour or so ago. the group cheered when y/n and danny came through the door, holding up some of the red solo cups.

megan came to y/n’s side, her tipsy stature morphing her usually quiet attitude into something more sentimental. she clutched onto y/n’s arm. she touched y/n’s cheek and gushed over the curls swinging over her shoulders. “i loooove the hair, girl. you look so pretty with it like that. you’re always pretty, though. oh, my god, you know we haven’t hung out in forever and it makes me so sad. please, please say we’ll hang out soon.”

y/n giggled at megan’s state, wrapping a securely protective arm around megan’s waist. “i promise, okay?”

y/n was the first to admit that she’d been so caught up with boys over the last few months. she hadn’t exactly pushed away her friends, but she hadn’t prioritized them, either. she was in her head with her own issues, and didn’t make the time others. it made her feel a little guilty. but, before that feeling could snowball into the depressive heartbreak she’d been plagued with, megan continued.

“what’s new with you? what have you been up to? i hope you’re not still sad about sam. you should know you’re so much fucking better than him. you deserve so much fucking better than him. he’s such a whore. fuck him.”

“no, i’m over that,” y/n said, confidently waving megan off through a giggle. and she was telling the truth. “i’ve just been…hanging out. ya know. working.” her gaze became distant, words slow as stiles’ face flashes through her memories. y/n didn’t say what she had been really doing. it was embarrassing to admit that she’d gotten herself into another shitty situation with a guy.

though, megan squinted her eyes, analyzing her friend’s words. she knew, “oh, no. oh, no, no, no. fucking stilinksi. i fucking knew once danny told us- okay. listen- you don’t even have to say anything, kay? tonight, we’re just gonna have fun. here, jack, pour us some shots!”

y/n couldn’t help but grin in response. there wasn’t time to imagine stiles- to envision his lips ghosting the curve of her skin, to try to remember what it felt like when he’d draw out movement from her body. because, next thing she knew, megan was shoving two to three red solo shot cups into y/n’s hand- all in a row. and y/n didn’t let herself hesitate. she swallowed them easily, ignoring the burn in her throat, her heart, her chest, and head.

jack cracked a smirnoff open for her. danny caught y/n’s eyes as she took a sip and gave her a thumbs up. when she waved him off, he winked, then wandered his way into the living room, where people were dancing. he’d mentioned something about ethan being there. y/n looped her arm through megan’s, pointed in that direction. megan nodded excitedly and pulled them to the makeshift dance floor.

they danced for what felt like hours but, really, was only maybe forty five minutes. jack and leo, avid partiers, continued shoving shots into their friend’s hands, traveling between the bar in the kitchen and the dance floor. y/n losing track of time turned into her losing track of how much she was drinking. one smirnoff turned into numerous empty glasses that she’d abandon on the coffee table beside her.

she had to take her jacket off after a while, sweating too much in the jean material. y/n tossed it, absentmindedly, on the couch. she probably wouldn’t remember it there later. she’d probably have jack in a frenzy, texting everyone tomorrow about random articles of clothing in his living room. she’d probably lose the 20 stuffed into the pocket to some wandering hands. but it didn’t matter.

nothing really mattered. not when her favorite song played, not when megan spun her around, when danny would yell lyrics into her face and ruffle her hair. y/n just kept throwing her head back, giggling like a mad woman.

it didn’t matter. it did not matter to her. the entire, fucked up situation with stiles. it didn’t matter that he had used her, that he had been seeing lydia the whole time. it did not matter that he had kept so many secrets from her. it did not matter that she broke her own rules, that she let him get beneath her skin, that she fell in love with hi

it did not really matter if she loved him.

y/n turned on her heel, dancing around in circles with megan, both girls holding each other’s hands like they were schoolgirls. her hair whipped over her shoulders, in waves behind her back. her eyes couldn’t focus on the blurred, bright lights passing her vision as they spun. the bodies surrounding them turned into smudges against her vision. she couldn’t tell who was who.

but she thought she saw stiles standing in the doorway to the kitchen, clear as day.

y/n stalled in her tracks. she nearly fell over from how quickly she stopped. megan bumped into her shoulder, grabbed y/n’s arm to steady herself.

y/n couldn’t breathe. she squinted her eyes, rubbed at them, smudging her mascara.

her sight cleared and there was nobody there.

megan laughed loudly in y/n’s ear, tugging on her arm, “why’d you stop?! keep going! spin, spin!”

y/n took a deep, shuddering breath, staring at the spot where she had pictured stiles. “i need air,” she mumbled.

megan yelled, “what are you saying?”

y/n pulled her arm out of megan’s, “i’m going outside,” she barely looked at her friend. this is why she didn’t like to drink.

y/n stumbled through the house, being shoved left and right by the sweaty, dancing teenagers suffocating her. she didn’t know when she’d started crying, but her face was slick was tears. she wiped her hands across her cheeks, smearing more mascara and eyeliner, blackening her palms. she couldn’t focus her thoughts, nor did she feel like herself. this is why she didn’t like to drink. because she wasn’t logical, she was out of control.

y/n found the side door, the one that led to jack’s garage, and slammed it shut behind her. once she reached the garage floor, she slowly lowered herself to the bottom step, hugged her knees to her chest. she didn’t know if she was having a panic attack or a full mental breakdown. but she couldn’t breathe. and she just wanted to be sober so she could figure out her shit.

y/n pressed a hand to her chest, hoping the pressure would do something: ground her, snap her back to reality. all she could do was sob, rock back and forth like a baby. as she did so, her phone fell out of her back pocket. somehow, her camera roll was open on the screen. staring up at her. a picture of stiles and winnie was there, taunting her.

y/n didn’t have any inhibitions, too far gone to know what crossed the line of boundaries she’d made when she was sober. so, she picked up her phone, her hands shaking.

and she hit the little telephone next to his contact. she stared at the picture as it rung.

she needed him. she needed him to hold her, bare-naked under his bedsheets, warm against his chest. needed him to rake his fingers through her hair and to kiss her forehead, call her baby again. even just say her name. she’d even pretend, like she did a dozen times, just for him, that she didn’t notice his lips linger there. she’d pretend it never happened.

anything for him. if he wanted her and lydia- that was fine. he could have her. she was his, completely, fully. all of his. every inch of her skin that he had laid eyes, that he had touched his with fingertips, every inch of skin that he had nipped at with his teeth- it was his.

he picked up immediately.

“y/n? oh, my god, i’m so fucking- i’m so sorry. i don’t know what i did-“

“stiles,” she cut him off, voice barely above a whisper.

his tone instantly softened. a soothing one replaced his usually hectic vocal demeanor, “oh, baby.” he knew, from just the smallest whimper barely uttered between her lips, he knew that she didn’t want to fight. she didn’t call to argue. she didn’t call to make up, either. she just called to hear him, to talk to him. she needed him.

she’d never know how much he needed her, too.

his voice, breathy in her ear, sent a shiver down her spine. y/n sniffled, knuckles white on the hand which held her phone. her head lolled down, chin hiding into her chest.

“what’s wrong?” he asked.

y/n chewed on her lip for a moment, willing it to stop wobbling, “i mis-“ she stopped herself, jamming a different word onto what she was saying to cover it up, “i mistake. i-um, didn’t mean to call you.

it took him a second to reply, “oh. ok.” he knew it wasn’t true, but he didn’t know what else to say. he didn’t want to press her into a conversation she didn’t want to have. but he didn’t want to end the call. he wanted to be whatever she needed in this moment.

they sat there in silence for a good two minutes, not even the sound of their own ragged, anticipatory breaths making any noise in the other’s ear. y/n’s hand was shaking. she loosened her tight grip on her knees and stretched her legs out in front of her. the shift in position helped her breath a little bit better.

she sniffled again, tilted her head back. as she stared at the ceiling, she suddenly laughed. “i didn’t make a fucking mistake, stiles. god, i meant to call you.”

“oh, good,” his tone remained still and flat. he was focused on reading her words. there was meaning between the lines that he couldn’t read. and she was acting strange. he was decoding everything.

“i mean to call you because every single second that i’m not with you, i feel like i’m going to die!” she exclaimed, tossing her other hand in the air.

stiles rubbed his lips together, brows furrowed, “i’m glad that you called.” he, also, felt like he was going to die without her. but, he didn’t know if he should tell.

if only stiles knew that if he would have just told her, honestly, how he felt, as soon as he felt it, months ago, this entire situation could have been avoided. alas, it was a lesson he was still learning.

“good,” y/n huffed. hearing him calmed her down. knowing he was there coaxed her off the edge of anxiety. now, her drunken self took back over her body. and drunk y/n wanted to dance, “okay. i’m going back to the party-“

“party?” stiles interrupted her, his concerned tone back. she was annoyed that he cared where she was at. he didn’t have any right to that feeling- though, also, it made her feel good, that jealousy, that toxicity.

drunk y/n was feeling a lot.

she nodded, though he couldn’t see her, stating matter of factly, “party. i’m at a party, stiles. i’m drunk, and i’m having a blast. well, i was having a blast until you popped into my mind. god, do you know how badly i want to punch you in the face? i just wanna give you, like, a knuckle sandwich, ya know? maybe being hit will make you figure your shit out. okay, whatever. like i was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, i’m going back to the party. i’m going to go dance with my friends-“

stiles had just left the animal clinic, where he, lydia, allison, and scott had met to discuss plans to combat the killer still in beacon hills. chills were lingering on his skin, thinking about all of the photographs stolen from the station, picturing dead students cut at the throat. every time they’d pull another out of the beige manila folder, y/n’s face would appear in his head, attached to a battered, beaten corpse. he’d been worried sick about her the last week, especially since the murderous rampages had slowly spread, closer to home. and, they were more vicious as every day passed. he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t stay outside her house every night, parked in his jeep down the road, barely able to sleep.

her, drunk at a party, was the last situation stiles needed her to be in. it was dangerous. he didn’t want to show up to a crime scene with her corpse lying within a body bag. he couldn’t lose her.

of course, she didn’t know that that was a possible ending to her night. everyone knew about the serial killer, but average citizens of beacon hills didn’t really seem concern themselves with something that seemed so out of reach. teenagers, especially, were naive and vulnerable to things like that.

“who’s with you?” he interceded her words, again. y/n groaned in response and went to complain about how he always did shit like that. but, he spoke again, more firmly this time, “y/n, who’s with you?”

“my friends, just danny, megan, jack, leo. a bunch of other people i don’t know,” she listed off, staring into space. “why do you care?”

“where is it?” stiles demanded. sure, he didn’t have claws, fangs, or anything that would stop a literal supernatural serial killer besides a beat-up baseball ball and his annoying attitude which would eventually drive the creature even more insane. but, he needed to be there. heather had died at a party. the ending scene of a slasher film always happened at a party. parties were breeding grounds for death, as if they were the tenth circle of dante’s inferno or something.

y/n, danny, leo, megan- they were all sitting ducks. targets for something really bad yet to happen.

so, he needed to be there. convince her to leave, if he could. if she wouldn’t leave, he’d stay. he’d stay for her.

anything for her.

y/n hung up on the phone once he said he was on the way. she’d scoffed and said, “yeah, fucking right. danny will beat the shit out of you.”

the beeping tone of a hung up line hit stiles like a truck. he still didn’t quite understand what he had done. if he did, he’d had fixed it by now. he was always good at fixing things. maybe he didn’t have glowing red eyes, or the ability to predict death, but he always was able to fix the jeep. he pulled his dad out of his alcoholic pit after his mom’s death. he was a problem solver. he was good at it.

but, he didn’t what was broken.

tonight, he intended to find out. he didn’t care if danny beat the shit out of him, or if y/n wouldn’t listen. he’d wait for her to open her ears to his incessant bickering, holding an ice pack to whatever bruises danny had left. he knew she’d break eventually.

if she really was done with him, if she really didn’t want to hear him out, why else had she called him?

–

stiles broke about a billion traffic laws. but he managed to get there, quickly, in one piece.

he couldn’t locate y/n anywhere inside the house, but did find all of her friends dancing in the living room. had they been there the whole time? did they even know y/n was on her own? probably not. you’d think, with a serial killer on the loose, they’d care more about each other’s safety.

his jaw dropped at the sight of them, carelessly floating through the crowd while one of their friends was drunk and alone, in some dark corner of this house. it pissed him off, as did all of the people pushing against him, alcohol sloshing over the rims of their cups and onto his shoes, the smell of sweat, and the sight of teenagers making out against walls, doors, other couples.

he had always hated people, but parties reminded him just how much of that hatred existed within his chest.

stiles checked the upstairs bedrooms, bathrooms, called her name out, down the basement steps, peeked into the empty garage, and even looked inside a pantry in case she’d stuffed herself somewhere like that.

stiles was grateful to, eventually, find her, outside, on the edge of the pool. her sneakers and socks were flung into the yard behind her. she swung her bare feet in the chlorinated water, completely soaking the bottoms of her jeans. y/n’s palms were planted on the concrete beside her thighs, her head thrown back, eyes closed as she swayed to the music. she didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

stiles huffed when he saw her, the deep, worried breath rattling in his chest. “y/n,” he said, hoping to garner her attention. his hands flung about him, as they normally did when he spoke.

she didn’t seem to care that he was there, but she definitely heard him. he knew she had because he watched y/n’s shoulders flinch, ever so slightly, at the sound of her own name.

stiles squatted down beside her, curling a soft hand around her bicep, “y/n, hey-“

she pulled her arm away, as if his hand was made of lava. “go away, stiles.�� his hand stilled in the air where she’d pushed it, fingers flexing at the rejection.

stiles then pressed the hand to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut with frustration, impatience. “y/n, please-“

she looked up at him, jaw slack from her drunken state. her eyes looked darkened, the deadly stare enhanced by her ruined makeup. “what the fuck do you want?”

stiles met her eyes. his face softened, concern overwhelmingly her features. just seeing her face, though it was a wreck- it sent goosebumps across his skin. she was so fucking pretty, even though she’d been crying. why had she been crying?

“i want to talk to you-“

“go away,” she waved him off. y/n then pulled her legs from the pool, dripping water all over the concrete. stiles’ eyes moved down her body, ensuring she was in one piece. he noticed the goosebumps all over her bare arms. she was freezing cold.

he stood with her, following her quick feet. “where’s your jacket?” stiles began to pull off his zip up jacket while she grabbed her shoes. he reached out for her arm again. his fingertips on her shoulder felt like a zap of electricity.

y/n flinched away again. she whipped her head back towards him, a deep frown enlisted on her features, “fuck off, stiles! don’t even try pretend like you care about that shit right now! seriously, go the fuck home! i told you not to come!”

stiles took a step away from her. he wished he knew what he had done so fucking badly. he wanted to kiss her eyelids. he wanted to clean off her makeup, wrap her up in his bedsheets, rub circles into her back until she fell asleep, soundly in his hood.

but, all of that couldn’t really be at the forefront of his mind right now. it couldn’t matter. he was here to protect, whether she wanted him there or not. and, she very obviously did not want him at this party. well, too damn bad. he pushed the thoughts aside.

“i’m not going anywhere,” stiles threw his hands up, as if to challenge her. if she wanted him gone, she’d have to drag him out of there. he continued to follow her. she found a chair and sat down in order to put her shoes on. he continued, “look, i don’t know what i did, but you don’t even understand what’s happening in this town. i have to protect-“

“bro, get the fuck away from her!”

stiles felt a pressure against his chest as someone’s abnormally strong had pushed him away from y/n’s presence. she looked up from her shoe laces that she was struggling to tie, brows furrowing at the sound of stiles’ grunt. she watched as stiles stumbled over his feet. he straightened up, quick, and met the eye of his assailant.

“oh, fuck off, dude,” stiles tilted his head to the side, slowly shaking it in annoyance. his jaw clenched, fists flexed at his sides. he took an intimidating step forward.

y/n glanced between stiles and sam owens, taking a deep, shuddering breath. sam puffed out his chest, towering over stiles by a couple of inches. although he was buffer, taller, a couple years older, he didn’t seem nearly as threatening as stiles did. the devilish qualities to his features seemed to heighten themselves in defiance to sam’s presence.

the black haired boy glared his eyes at sam, pupils blown out out with a stormy darkness. she knew it was wrong, but seeing him so angry at sam- y/n couldn’t help but admit that it made her stomach twirl.

they’d never really had the sam talk, at least she hadn’t told him every single thing. she’d mentioned sam, once, when she and stiles were talking about something else. it was offhanded, when she brought him up. danny, however, had spilled his guts to stiles about the short situationship y/n and that “douchebag” had been in all summer.

and stiles was pissed the fuck off. he knew about sam’s girlfriend at college. he knew sam had used y/n for sex over the summer. he knew that sam had told her he loved her right before breaking up with her.

oh, was stiles angry.

that was, after all, his girl now. and nobody was gonna fuck with stiles’ girl. nobody was gonna fuck with stiles.

he stepped forward, now nearly chest to chest with sam, who replied, “who the fuck are you? y/n told you to leave! want me to show you the door, kid?”

“who the fuck am i? watch your mouth, dickhead. you have no fucking business here-“

y/n quickly stood, wary hands before herself, “stiles, it’s not worth it, i promise.” she stalled his words, but stiles wouldn’t even look over at her. his dark eyes bore a hole through sam, and she knew he was probably going to hit him.

y/n, who was now feeling quite sobered up, glanced to the house. she knew that if they started fighting, stiles would get his ass handed to him. sam was a wrestler in college, the best in his weight class. he was a fucking state champion.

so, she needed to get to danny, who was definitely stronger than stiles, at least. he’d probably be able to keep them apart long enough for her to calm stiles down.

but, she didn’t have any time, because sam was mouthing stiles off again. and stiles really was the best at banter. so, he was getting himself into a lot of trouble.

“you put your fucking hands on her, and she told you to stop. makes it my goddamn business-“

“oh, my god, shut the fuck up!” stiles rolled his eyes at sam. he opened his mouth to shoot off some other sarcastic remark when sam reared back a fist and clipped the side of stiles’ face. stiles nearly fall back on the concrete alongside the pool, but he caught himself. having a werewolf as a best friend had taught him a thing or two. so, he was ready to fight.

stiles hit sam in return, most likely breaking his hand- definitely breaking his hand, he knew it. but the punch tossed sam onto the lounge chair behind him. it surprised both stiles and y/n, who had to jump out of the way. she nearly getting taken out by sam’s thrown body.

stiles met her eye and the sight of her, standing there, scared, softened him. he reached for her, closing the distance between then within two long strides. he set his hands on her biceps, ignoring the throbbing pain in his left one. blood dripped from his cracked knuckles, bleeding onto her skin. she clutched onto his elbows in response, any anger for him washed away by fear and worry.

“shit, are you okay? i’m so-“

before he could continue, y/n was shoved to the ground. she scraped her palms, cut her elbow open, and busted her tailbone, hard, on the concrete. she thought she hit her chin, too, but she couldn’t really tell, because y/n’s vision blurred from the fall.

sam tackled stiles to the ground with another punch. they landed in the grass, and went at each other. it took y/n a second to clear her pained head, but she managed to push herself up on her feet. some of their classmates continued partying around them, most just ignoring the fight. but a small crowd gathered to watch it, like it was something exciting, something fun to do. the bystanders made y/n feel sick. nobody was doing anything.

she didn’t even take a second to look at stiles, knowing that seeing him like that would stall her in her tracks. instead, she turned towards jack’s house, danny’s name screeching out of her throat.

she ran inside, feeling like she was pushing through thick, slow jello. she continued to yell out his name. luckily, she found him, on the dance floor still. ethan was there, too. good- he could help.

ethan was already meeting her, setting a kind hand on her arm. “what’s wrong?” his eyes glazed over, and he looked to the side, as though he could hear the fight. he ran outside.

danny shoved through the crowd, towards her. he caught her chin in his hand examining her wounds, “what the fuck happened? what’s going on?”

y/n, breathing heavily, sobbing again, stumbled out, “sam and stiles!”

danny pushed aside as he fell into a run. y/n followed, though the burning of her cuts and scrapes became more intense on her nerves. she seethed a breath between her teeth, stumbling over her feet, but pushed on.

ethan had shoved sam to the grass, though he was getting back up, again. danny immediately lunged in between them before sam could get to stiles. danny sent a harsh punch to sam’s gut, forcing him backwards again. danny then grabbed stiles by the shirt, helped him become balanced on his feet, before danny pushed him away, too. ethan came back in, grabbing stiles around the chest to hold him back, though stiles fought against the tight hold. sam somehow got up, again, clutching his stomach, and jumped towards stiles. danny punched him again and shook out his fist after. the look on his face was annoyed, but also, somehow, vengeful. he had been waiting all summer, all of fall, to punch this motherfucker.

“fuck you guys!” sam spat at danny and stiles from his knees, more blood trailing down his already slick chin.

stiles grunted, fighting against ethan’s hold. “you’re a piece of fucking shit! pussy ass bitch-“

“shut the fuck up-“ sam cut him off, then added, “i don’t even give a fuck about that bitch!“

danny shook his head at the words spitting from sam’s mouth. stiles looked angrier, if at all possible. ethan’s hold loosened on him, shocked by the insults sam threw at y/n. ethan did care for her, too, even if he barely knew her. she was everything to danny.

all three boys were seething with anger. sam had called her a bitch, and they did not like that.

sam simply smirked up at them, his words and expression challenging them. he went to wipe his mouth with his sleeve, but he didn’t get a chance to even take another breath because danny had lunged after him again.

ethan let go of stiles, purposefully, and the boy followed suit. ethan, a little more controlled- even though the situation pissed him off, too- grabbed danny, but not before allowing him to get a few punches in.

y/n ran forward and tried to grab stiles’ arm. she failed, and instead tripped over his shoe. she tumbled into the grass. she quickly pulled herself up, again. when she looked for stiles, she saw him being restricted again, this time by scott’s arm. she didn’t know when he had arrived, but she was glad for the extra help.

it made her heart swell that all of these men cared about her so much to fight sam like they were, but it really needed to end already. it shouldn’t have even gotten out of hand in the first place. she was nauseous, hurting in all of the places she’d been wounded, and extremely tired from the alcohol still coursing through her system.

y/n stood up. scott was rushing out words to his friend, “hey! stiles! stiles, cmon, dude! calm down! stiles!”

“stiles!” y/n called. she crouched down in front of him, reaching for his face.

stiles finally met her eyes and a steady rhythm graciously caught his breath. she cupped his jaw in her delicate fingers. his blood smeared across his face, all over her hands.

a few tears ran down his face, falling into her palms. she didn’t know why he was crying, if it was because of his injuries or his anger. but she wiped them away with her thumbs.

“it’s okay, baby,” she whispered, for only him to hear. “i’m okay, it’s okay. please, just calm down.”

scott, who had let go of stiles, turned to sam, who was standing up from the ground. scott was charismatic, and could usually easily demand people. he put out a cautious hand towards sam, “leave it, buddy. just leave it, trust me,” scott warned him.

stiles slumped forward, on his knees. y/n squatted, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. she used all of her strength to stand them up, brushing the sweaty, bloody hair from his face. sam watched her tenderness as she cared for stiles, feeling a surge of jealousy. sam knew he didn’t want her. he knew he had willingly given her up. but, that didn’t mean he wanted anybody else to get to have her.

so, just when it seemed like it was over, sam scoffed, “yeah, you’re right. i’ll leave it. she’s not worth it. she’s just an easy fuck and a cheap ass date-“

now, scott was angry. he roared, and y/n thought she saw his eyes flash a bright red. he went after sam, just to shut his stupid fucking mouth. he swept past y/n and stiles, who clutched onto her waistline protectively. he tried to duck them out of the way, but his foot skidded over the concrete, and they tripped towards the water.

she yelped, clutching onto his neck, as they fell into the pool. the water enveloped them, but tore them from one another. y/n kicked her feet sporadically, shocked by the cold, by the alarming fall they’d taken. she grabbed for stiles’ shirt and gratefully felt his hands fluttering for her hips.

she blew out a lot of bubbles, struggling to hold her breath from all of the shock. stiles tugged her tightly against him, again, and swam them to the surface. y/n wrapped her legs around his waist and clutched onto his shoulders. she was shaking, with fear, with pain, from the cold water nipping at her skin. it was all so much all at once that she just laughed.

stiles stared at her as she tossed her head back, giggling like a maniac. he furrowed hit brows, jutted his chin out, “what are you laughing about?”

y/n barely met his eye, continuing to laugh at the fucked up situation. “this is just so stupid!”

he remembered she was drunk and tapped her hip, “okay, let’s get you out of here-“

“it’s stupid, stiles!” she slapped a hand down onto his shoulder. “you’re stupid! that fight was fucking stupid! sam’s stupid! this night is stupid! i’m stupid!”

“why am i- why are you stupid?” he didn’t want to make it all about him. she was clearly grappling with something, something she needed to talk out.

she couldn’t continue to push everything away, including him. “i’m stupid! i let you and that stupid boy fuck up everything! i let it happen not once, but twice! what is it- fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me? i’m a fool! you and sam are, like- oh, my god, im just stupid. and that was so fucking stupid- you and sam fighting over me! you guys fought over me, but both of you are the reason im so fucked up in the first place! it’s your guys’ fault and you just had some stupid pissing contest-!”

“me and sam?” stiles sounded out his words carefully, working through her rambles in his fuzzy head.

the night she’d ran out of his house, in a craze, a mess because of his phone blowing up- what had triggered that?

who had called stiles that night? who had been blowing up his phone? was it-

it was lydia.

lydia, the girl everyone at beacon hills high knew he’d had a major crush on for, like basically, ever.

y/n must have looked at his phone. she must have put together, based off of the texts he’d been sent, based off all of the context clues laying right in front of him, that he and lydia were together.

meanwhile, am had had a girlfriend the entire time he and y/n had gone out. every day, he’d see his girlfriend. then, usually on the weekends, when it was dark, he’d bring y/n out like a toy.

y/n thought stiles was just like sam. y/n thought stiles was using her.

she had no clue that she was everything and the sun to him. she had no clue that he needed her like water, that he craved her like wine. she didn’t know that he spent every night rereading their texts, analyzing their conversations, going over their interactions, decoding everything to find a way for her to love him despite her hurt, despite what they agreed on.

she was used to being broken by people who claimed to love her, and stiles was just another part of that system.

so, he needed to tell. right now.

stiles gripped onto her hips, shaking her body just once so she’d meet his eyes. “listen-“

“no, just- get me out-“

“y/n, you beautiful, gorgeous, sweet woman- just listen to me! okay? just listen!” stiles demanded, “i’m not with lydia, alright? i’ve never been with her. i don’t want her- i’m in-“

“stiles!” scott called his name from above, standing at the edge of the pool. his eyes still glowed red, his face was still morphed into that of a wolf. scott’s chest puffed out, in, heavily, with deep, ragged breaths.

stiles knew something was wrong based off of his friend’s demeanor.

“we have to get to the school. lydia’s in trouble.”

stiles looked to y/n, who’s face had lit up from the possibility of stiles’ words. her expression morphed into confusion. he wanted to say something, to say sorry. but, he couldn’t. he couldn’t focus.

so, y/n took her turn to speak, graciously replying with, “stiles, i know there’s so much that you’re still hiding from me-“ she glanced up at scott, who tilted his head with shame, “so, i’m coming with you. if you want me to trust you, i have to come with you. i have to know.”

stiles knew she was right.

so he drug her, head first, into the world of the supernatural.

#derek x stiles #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles x lydia #stiles x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf x reader

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obetrolncocktails · 9 months

Text

Ignition | Danny Wagner X f!Reader X Jake Kiszka | Part 1

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+. This series will include smut, angst, and fluff. In this part: Depression, and unrequited feelings, with some exciting fluff!

Word Count: 3,325K

A/N: This series has been a blast to write so far. I am literally a Danny girl right now (don't tell Josh)! Parts will be released relatively close to each other, so you won't have to wait long for your fix. I've got 13K words ready to publish!

Summary: Losing your best friend and the possibility for more all in the span of 5 minutes wasn't your idea of a fun way to spend your Friday night. But life is full of surprises, especially when Danny Wagner walked into your life just when you needed him.

“Y/n,” Jake pleaded in his too sweet and too sensitive voice, his fingertips reaching out to comfort you as you withdrew within your own quiet, cracking defense. His voice sounded exactly like the one you’d heard in your head so many countless nights as you imagined this conversation, but the scenarios didn’t match in the slightest.

“I love you,” He spoke again, slicing another hole through your heart. You heard the three words, but not in the way you’d manifested you would.

“No. You don’t.”

He was silent for another moment, slipping his hands into the pockets of his same stupid jeans he always wore. “I’m not in love with you,” he said as quietly as he could muster. “But you are one of the most important and special people in my life, Y/n.”

“Jake, just please,” you sniffled, feeling the tears flowing heavier, blurring your vision. “You’re hurting me.” You could barely muster the words. “So, please just go,” you begged him. The likelihood of this outcome was exactly why you persuaded Jake to let you be the one to drive.

“You can’t drive like this,” he said quietly. “I can drive you home.”

“No,” you said too forcefully. “I just want to be alone, and I don’t want to be alone with you right now, Jake. So please. Just go.” You looked up at him, sure that your makeup was smearing pitifully down your face. “I will text you that I got home,” you finished, staring down at your steering wheel. Those were the last words that you’d utter to him tonight.

“Okay,” he answered quietly, picking at his nails in his lap. He wore a pained, regretful expression, which hurt you even more. You felt the pang of an approaching sob ripping through your throat, but you pushed it down until he got out of the car. You watched as he silently reached for the door handle, swinging the door open and stepping out. He turned around like he wanted to say something, then closed his mouth again, his lips pulling taut with indecision.

“Please let me know when you get home,” he said. You nodded once, tearfully. He closed the door and left you alone. You watched through the car window as he trudged up the dark driveway and into his house. The silence inside of the car was deafening, and if you could have dissociated through the grief, you would have. Wiping away the tears and taking in as deep of a breath as you could manage, you reached forward and put the key into the ignition, cranking the car. As it roared to life, a small feeling of relief pushed you to pull out of the neighborhood and head home.

Admittedly, you had driven almost entirely out of muscle memory, coming out of your distracted state as you approached the last stop light before the turn-in to your own neighborhood. You didn’t remember exactly how long you sat in your car, letting your head spin and your heart reel, so lost in your own upset. For so many months you had let the scenarios and possibilities of more, something exciting grow and turn into something that you had created that was so unbelievably real to you, that you hadn’t truly processed the possibility of disillusionment. You’d hurt yourself even further by scrolling through your camera roll, searching and scanning for yours and Jake’s pictures taken together, his arm wrapped around you, holding you close. His smile was infectious, and despite the stale tears drying on your cheeks, you couldn’t help but smile. You loved him–you always would, but it had become something more. Those feelings had scared you so deeply, but empowered you to take that terrible risk for the slight chance that he too, felt the same way.

It took everything in you to summon the energy to go inside, and when you did, you didn’t even bother changing out of your clothes. You stepped out of your jeans and got into bed, letting the cried-off makeup seep into your pores. It would have to wait until the morning to be washed off, because you didn’t care. You had no one to impress. Why did Jake have to be your best friend? Why, now when you were hurting so badly, you couldn’t turn to him for support? He couldn’t come over and talk you through the pain. You couldn’t cry in front of him like you used to, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to be that easily vulnerable in front of him again. Reaching for your phone, you sighed deeply, texting a message to Jake as you had promised.

“I’m home.”

Reading the happy-go-lucky messages that had been exchanged before the last had filled you with even more sorrow. You’d just have to wade through the despair tonight. There was nothing that would make this any better.

Just to hurt yourself more, you decided to look for a playlist of adequately-depressing songs, and pressed play. You stared up at your dark ceiling, watching the blades of the ceiling fan whir. After a while, you welcomed the mindless churn of your consciousness, momentarily compartmentalizing your sorrow into emotionless numbness.

“Thanks for letting me know. Take care of yourself, Y/n. I’m always here for you.” He responded. Even when you wanted to cast Jake away, set forth on your own mission of shunning, you couldn’t. Jake exuded kindness and care with everyone he’d ever met, and you certainly were no exception. You couldn’t chase away the idea of tacking up a picture of him on an axe-throwing board, and slamming blows through his pretty face until you were either satisfied, or there was nothing of the paper left to shred. Even in your darkest, most self-sabotaging thoughts, images of hearts and kissing still flooded your mind's eye, betraying your feeble attempt at resolve. You weren’t sure when the tears stopped, but eventually they did, though you still felt the drying reminder of them on your skin as you finally laid down in hopes of falling asleep.

The next day came with your body freezing, having fallen asleep on top of the covers. You felt an itch as you opened your eyes, reaching down to unstick your keys and phone from your legs. You let your head fall back against the pillow as you realized that you had forgotten to charge your phone, and your consequence was to be connected at the hip with a charging cable all morning. Your notifications were scarce and held no significance. If you were honest with yourself, you felt just as insignificant, wanting nothing more than to lay in bed all day and dissolve into the welcome comfort of sleep. So, you did.

***

Days passed unremarkably. You went to work and finished your shifts, blocking out the world around you through your airpods. You regretted it deeply that you had easily let Jake become the center of your universe. You wondered if he missed you, and while you knew that he did, you couldn’t help but selfishly and angrily push away any sympathetic thoughts. But, of course, after you did, you still felt the remaining ache tug at you.

“Y/n,” Richard, the owner of The Bohemian, the record store that you worked at, tapped on your shoulder.

“Hm?” You asked, pulling out your airpods.

“I’ve been calling for you,” he said, looking at you with a quirk in his brow. “You seem a bit distracted lately, and you’ve missed a lot of work. Is everything okay?” Looking down at the chance to avoid his stare, you realized that you’d been shelving records into the wrong area and under the wrong artist. You turned to hide your mistake.

“Oh, uh,” you paused, fighting to make eye contact with him. “Sorry. Just some stuff going on with family. I’ll do better, I promise,” you quickly apologized.

“No, no,” He said, placing a friendly hand on your shoulder. “That’s not what I meant,” he said. “I just want to make sure that you’re doing okay. You’ve always been right on time for work. You always have a smile on your face, always so, I don’t know,” he chuckled once, shrugging. “Anyway, I’ve just noticed that spark has been a little dull for a while now.”

Anxiety and embarrassment coursed through your body, your heart rate increasing, feeling each thump pound through your skin. “I’m okay. I will be, at least,” you ensured him.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? It’s been so quiet here anyway,” he offered. “We won’t mention the call-outs,” he grinned, offering a wink. “Go on. Remember to take care of yourself.” He unknowingly echoed Jake’s sentiments.

Initially, you weren’t enthused about being released back into the sadness of the routine you’d created over the last week and a half. At the same time, you had the energy to do something for yourself. “Are you sure? I feel like I’ve been out more than I’ve been in,” you chuckled nervously. He waved you off, dismissing your worries.

“It’s hurting my heart to see you so miserable. Plus, you’re gonna send customers away with how dreadful you look,” he grinned sympathetically. “Go before I kick ‘ya out,” he said, pushing you away toward the front of the store.

“Okay, okay!” you answered. “I gotta get my stuff from the back though.”

He shook his head, teasing you. You retrieved your belongings and clocked out. “I’ll pick up some extra hours next week,” you said as you headed out of the front door, the automated bell tinkling.

“Yeah, yeah!” he said, waving you away dismissively. “Enjoy your day.”

***

It was convenient that The Bohemian was downtown. The major inconvenience, however, was that it just so happened to be pouring-down raining outside. It didn’t deter you, though. You decided to take a left at the corner and book it toward one of your favorite places. Apothecary Coffee Co. was a combination coffee shop/bookstore that you loved to go to for as long as you could remember. Throughout college, it was your spot to study, to write, to read, and to hang out with friends. Even in your sadness, the brightness of the converted pharmacy filled you with comfort. As you stepped in from the rain, you were reinvigorated with the welcome warmth of the place.

“Hey! What can I getcha?” A cute barista asked, her blonde hair collected in a messy bun on top of her head. Her eyes were bright and friendly as she prepared to write on one of the cups to her left. She wore a square name tag with her first name written in a delicate script you could have imagined on any beautiful wedding invitation. Margot.

You offered her a kind smile. “Can I just get a medium iced caramel latte? With oat milk please,” you asked with a polite smile. You watched her ring it up and give you a total, reaching for a pen to write your name on the cup.

“Oh, um. Y/n,” You told her, inserting your debit card. She seemed nice. She had beautiful tattoos that snaked around her arms, and up toward her bicep, and she had several piercings.

“I love your tattoos,” you mentioned with a smile.

“Oh yeah?” She asked, rolling her arm forward to show you. “I love them, too. I got the full sleeve completed last month.” As you leaned over the counter to view the art on her arm, you couldn’t help but feel a twang of intrigue, and of curiosity.

“I don’t have any,” you admitted. “But maybe sometime soon,” you shrugged, placing your hands in your pockets as you stepped to the side, in case another customer were to step up to the counter.

“You should. But make sure you love whatever you want first. There’s a few that I regret,” she confessed. “But I can cover them, so it’s no big deal.” You watched as she wiped the marble counter as your espresso shots poured into your cup. A new customer stepped up to the register, so you ended the conversation naturally, accepting your latte a moment later with a friendly smile of gratitude.

This was your place. Many times, you’d escape your own mind by coming here to distract yourself with a new project. You realized in the moment of sitting down and taking a sip from your cup, that you felt better. For the first time in more than a week, you’d felt a sense of relief, even if it was in a miniscule way. You heard the tinkling of bells overhead as you emerged from the second chapter of the book you had picked up. The noise pulled your attention upward. As you looked up from your book, you felt your heart squeeze in your chest. You made direct eye contact with Danny Wagner as he walked through the door, his hair shimmering with rain, his leather jacket speckled with dripping raindrops.

“Y/n,” he said with genuine happiness. “It’s been a minute,” he said, approaching your table. “I haven’t seen you around.” You closed the book and set it to the side.

“How’d you know I’d be here?” You asked, the question coming out far more accusatory than you had intended.

“It’s your place,” he shrugged with a soft grin. You could have sworn you saw a flare of scarlet fill his cheeks for a moment. He cleared his throat. “I thought you’d end up here sometime or another,” he said. “May I sit?” He asked, gesturing to the chair in front of you.

“Sure,” you said, moving your items out of his way.

“How are you holding up?” He asked gently. “I- I heard what happened,” he continued, looking up at you with an almost sheepish expression. “I’m so sorry.”

You nodded, swallowing back both embarrassment and hurt. “I’m okay,” you nodded as you spoke, mostly to convince yourself that it was true. “He just didn’t feel the same way,” you shrugged. “It happens.”

“He’s your best friend, Y/n,” Danny pushed slightly. “It’s okay to be hurt. You don’t have to pretend around me. I’ve definitely been there. Except I never told them how I felt. And it still hurts.”

“I’m sorry, Danny.” You were quiet for a moment. “I just really miss him. I can’t believe I fucked everything up.” You groaned, covering your face and rubbing at your eyes with the butts of your palms.

“You didn’t fuck it up,” he argued. “In my opinion, honesty is the utmost form of respect. Do you love Jake? Putting your…feelings aside. Do you love him?”

“Of course I do,” you said almost immediately.

“And I know that he loves you, even if it’s not in the way that you had hoped. He hasn’t been himself since,” he admitted, sitting back in his seat, crossing his arms. “You both are so stubborn that you don't want to be the first person to reach back out. One of you has to clear the air. I don’t know who it will be. Just–” He reached out for your hand. “Don’t lose your best friend, Y/n.”

You sat there with Danny in a long moment of silence. “I just don’t feel like I should be the first person to say something. I just don’t have it in me to be that…” You couldn’t come up with the word.

“Vulnerable?” He offered. You nodded.

“I already embarrassed myself once.”

“You didn’t embarrass yourself, Y/n. Feelings aren’t embarrassing, even if it feels that way.”

“Then why did it feel so awful?” You asked, chuckling softly.

“Because sometimes having a heart sucks,” he grinned widely. For the first time in two weeks, you smiled genuinely.

“Maybe I should get that tattooed on my forehead.”

“I’ll do it for free in my back-alley tattoo parlor. We dole out free sepsis with each tattoo!”

“So generous!” You exclaimed sarcastically, playing along. “You know what I’ve been thinking about? Well, since I walked in here?”

“What?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Doing something impulsive.” You mimicked his expression, raising your eyebrows with interest.

“What did you have in mind?” He asked suspiciously.

“I thought about getting a piercing,” You said matter-of-factly. “Right here,” you continued, pinching your ear at the top, outer edge. “A helix.” You bit your lip, smiling with enthusiasm.

“A cartilage piercing.” He said slowly, nodding his head. “You just decided this now?”

You nodded. “Yup. Wanna come with me?” You asked. “Maybe I could bully you into getting something.”

“Not a chance,” he said, narrowing his eyes with a mischievous glimmer.

“We’ll see about that, Wagner.” You rose from the table.

“Wanna ride?” He asked, standing.

“You rode the bike?” You asked, craning your neck to look outside. Luckily, the rain had cleared into a thin mist.

“How do you think I got so soaked?” He asked.

“Don’t kill me on that thing, please,” you insisted weakly. You had never ridden a motorcycle before.

“I’d never, ever let you get hurt, Y/n. Plus, if we’re acting on impulsive thoughts, you might as well jump on,” he said, reaching for your hand, turning the corner of the shop where he broke out in a sprint. You knew he was trying his best to cheer you up, and though you thought you would have fought it, his presence felt so refreshing, that you would have been stupid to say no. So, you ran, too.

The motorcycle was beautiful, and from what you could tell, brand new. It was a completely rebuilt vintage Harley, fitted with the sleekest, most attractive body, with a paint job that sparkled even in the overcast weather. More than anything, it was intimidating, and sexy. “Wow,” you said, your face slack from gawking at the vehicle.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” He asked, pulling on a leather pair of gloves.

You nodded, swallowing, because you assumed that it was probably just as fast as it was incredibly beautiful. “I’ve never been on one,” you said hesitantly. He looked up at you with a curl in his lip.

“After today, you’ll crave it,” He mused, reaching for his helmet and putting it over your head, leaving the visor up so you could see. “I wasn’t expecting passengers, so you can use my helmet.” You didn’t say anything, but the pinch in your gut only furthered your nervousness.

You watched as he straddled the bike, his tall, strong frame mounting it with full confidence.

“Um,” you hesitated, stepping back a step. “I don’t know about this.”

“I promise you’re safe, Y/n. Trust me,” He said, reaching out his hand for you to take. “Hop on.” Despite your better judgment, you stepped forward, taking his hand. Swinging your leg over the bike, you swapped his hand to hold onto his shoulders.

“Ready?” He asked, turning his head over his shoulder.

“I don’t know,” You admitted. Your ears roared as the bike sprung to life, and before you knew it, Danny had revved the engine and lifted his foot off of the brake, lurching the bike forward, sending you scrambling to wrap yourself around him.

“Hold on,” He grinned, his curls already whipping around his face.

You pressed yourself into him out of necessity, thinking that if you didn’t, you’d most definitely fly off of the bike. You heard a chuckle vibrate through his body as he increased speed, feeling you tighten your grip around him. “Still interested in that piercing?” He asked loudly against the wind, slowing down at a red light.

“I don’t know,” you said, tossed with indecision.

“Tell you what. I’ll say fuck it and get that same piercing with you if you say yes.”

You chuckled with disbelief. “Says the guy who said no fucking way?”

“You’d be surprised, Y/n. I tend to loosen up around pretty girls.”

End of Part 1.

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#danny wagner #Danny gvf #Danny Wagner fanfic #Danny gvf fanfic #gvf #Jake kiszka #jaek gvf #Jake Kiszka fanfic #Jake gvf fanfic #Jake Kiszka x reader #Danny Wagner x reader #Danny Wagner imagine #Danny Wagner gvf #Jake Kiszka imagine #Jake Kiszka gvf #Jake Kiszka smut #Danny Wagner smut

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jordie-gvf · 1 year

Note

Hey! Could I request a blurb with danny and a reader where it’s like sweet, clingy, needy, sex once he comes home from tour? ❤️

danny blurb #5

warnings : exhibitionism, oral f rec, marijuana use, unprotected piv sex (wrap it up), breeding kink, slight daddy kink, very miniscule mommy kink, fingering f rec

word count : 676

No sooner did you open the front door and Danny pushed his suitcase and took his backpack off. He turned you around to face him and already had his lips on yours.

“Missed you, sweet girl,” he said to you, lowly. He had both hands resting on the sides of your neck, kissing down to your collarbone. “I missed you too, Babe.” you said. You grabbed the sides of his face and pulled his attention to you. “Couch or bed?” you asked him.

He smiled and said, “Bed swing, outside.” He picked you up off your feet and brought the both of you outside. Your backyard was fenced in and had a ton of trees, thankfully. You heard his feet walking on the back deck towards the swing. He laid you down on it and hiked your dress up to your waist.

He kissed your inner thighs and pulled your panties down. “Can't wait to taste you, I missed your pussy so much.” he said. You grabbed his hair and pushed his face closer to you. He sucked on your clit and slowly pushed two fingers inside of you. You threw your head back and laced your hands through his brown tresses.

There was no possible way that his mouth could've been any closer to your core. You stood up on your elbows and saw his eyes looking up at yours. He stuck his tongue out and licked your clit, holding eye contact. “I love it when you eat my pussy,” you said to him, already whining for him. “Good, cause I love eating it and I don't plan on stopping anytime soon.”

He had you on your hands and knees on the bed swing, back arched. One of his hands was gripping your shoulder and one was resting on your ass. “Goddamnit, I missed this pussy,” he said to you, moving his hands to your back. Both of his hands now rested on the top of your hips. He used one hand to push down on your back, your face pressing into the cushion.

His pace started to slow down, a signal to you that he was about to cum. “Where do you want my babies, sweet girl?” he asked you, seductively.

“Inside me. I want your babies inside me.” you said, in between moans.

“Yeah? Want me to make you a Mommy?”

“Yes. Make me a Mommy. You can be a Daddy.” you said to him.

“I am a Daddy. Yours.” he said and pulled on your hair so you could be close to him. “Oh, look at that pretty face. All fucked out and red. Wet from tears. Loves my cock so much it makes her cry. You gonna let Daddy cum in your pussy?”

You nodded as tears ran down your cheeks, happy tears. “What about Mommy? Is Mommy gonna cum?” he poked at you. His thrusting had significantly slowed down, so he reached his hand down to rub your clit. “Yes! I need to cum, can't wait any longer.” you said to him.

He let go of your hair and you fell forward, back onto your hands. “Then fucking cum.” he coaxed you to finishing.

Your vision went completely white and you could feel him cum inside you. “I missed you so much, Love.” he said, lying down next to you. He grabbed your panties and said, “Come on, legs up. Gotta keep my babies in there.”

He put your panties on you and laid back down. You told him you'd be right back and went inside the house. You walked over to the living room and grabbed your grinder, a cherry rolling paper and your pink lighter. You brought them back out and handed the grinder and rolling paper to him, he was better at rolling then you were. He rolled the perfect joint and let you light it first.

You two laid together, naked and smoked. You heard your neighbors come outside and say, “Feel good to be home, Danny?”

You laughed as Danny responded, “Yup! Thanks Mr. E!”

#danny wagner x reader #danny wagner fic #danny gvf #danny wagner fanfiction #greta van smut #greta van fleet fic #greta van fic #gvf fic

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kuzann · 2 months

Text

Vlad is stuck at home, Danny learns about the Key of Memory, Jack has a nightmare, and Valerie makes up her mind. FINALLY got this chapter done. It became really easy to write after I focused intensely on a completely different story for a month lol. Maybe keeping multiple AUs active at once really is the way to go for my creative process.

Excerpt:

Valerie didn’t draw attention to the fact that Danny, Sam, and Tucker had disappeared around half an hour ago and had yet to reappear. The most obvious explanation was that there was some sort of ghost issue going on that the three were dealing with.

She wanted to help him too. But would he keep trusting her if he knew she’d figured things out? Would their past and her continued association with Vlad get in the way of their friendship going forward? It was an association of convenience at best, but things were sour enough between Vlad and Danny that it might not matter...

The two families dispersed around mid-afternoon, with the kids promising to meet up again later for fireworks watching atop the Ops Center when night fell.

Valerie passed the hours before then with exercise, a bit of reading, and catching up on chores she still had to do. The Fourth of July had never been particularly special to her unless they were going to the parade or some other big event. It felt like any other day, save for the promise of fireworks later.

She was taking a trash bag out to the can just before sunset when she noticed something odd from the corner of her eye. Valerie froze, her breath catching in her throat, and turned her head to look.

The stag creature lay in the shadows under the fence halfway between their house and the back of their yard, only partially visible in the weakening light. Its head was down and its eyes closed, its entire body slack with exhaustion.

Valerie slowly resumed her walk to the trash cans, keeping her eyes on the stag all the while. She lowered the bag in, careful to keep her movements slow and measured, then returned to where it lay.

The stag stirred as she came closer. Its golden eyes were dull, and its movement sluggish as it lifted its head and gave her an imploring look.

She wasn’t sure what to do. It was only hostile when attacked for the most part, she knew that, but animals could get panicky when they were injured. The last thing she wanted was to catch a tine if it decided to take a swing at her.

Still… The way it looked at her… Was it really ‘just’ an animal?

Valerie crept a little closer. “Can you understand me?” she asked, balanced on the balls of her feet in case he started thrashing.

The stag nodded. He was trembling now, though from fear or fever she couldn’t tell—the wound in his haunch was still oozing blood even now.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Valerie said. She lifted a hesitant hand, but stopped short of reaching out to him. “I noticed that you aren’t trying to pick fights…” The bout with Plasmius came to mind, but that she could excuse by Vlad having somehow started a fight with the stag first. “For the most part,” she added. “Can I help you go home? You just need to get to the Ghost Zone, right?”

The stag shook his head.

Valerie blinked with surprise. “But you’re a ghost, aren’t you?”

Again the stag shook his head.

“So… What are you, then?”

The stag’s ears drooped as he gave her a look of utter misery.

“Right, I guess you can’t talk…” Valerie stepped closer and got a good look at the wound on the stag’s haunch. It looked deep, and given her sheer lack when it came to veterinary knowledge she had no idea how to treat it. “Would you like some food and water maybe? Would that help?”

The stag’s eyes widened, and he nodded.

“Okay, just lay low out here for a bit.” Valerie returned to her house at a fast walk, still wary of startling the stag if she moved too quickly. She took their largest plastic platter down from a cupboard and stood frozen in the kitchen for a few moments. What were deer supposed to eat? Plants, obviously, but other than that she had no idea given that her interaction with normal deer was very limited, having lived in the city her whole life. Lettuce would probably be a safe bet at the very least.

There was a tub of assorted greens in the veggie drawer. Given how bad she and her dad were at eating them before they spoiled they wouldn’t be sorely missed. Valerie put the tub on the platter, then added a few carrots and a cucumber for good measure.

It didn’t seem like enough, given the size of the stag. Valerie added some zucchinis and a few apples as well.

Next Valerie found a suitably large bowl and filled a few bottles with water to pour into it. She paused at the back door. The stag was dirty and haggard, going gray with dust when she’d gotten close enough to notice. He would be more comfortable if she could clean him up a bit…

Valerie left the food and water by the door and dashed up the stairs to get one of her old hair brushes; she wouldn’t feel guilty if this task finally did it in, given that she’d only kept it as a spare after getting a new one.

On her way back down she grabbed a few big garage towels as well, and with all she could think of gathered together she went back outside into the fading afternoon.

The stag lay exactly where she’d left him, again lifting his head as she drew near. His ears perked up at seeing the food.

Valerie set the water and food out for him, upending the tub of salad greens onto the platter with the other food she’d chosen, then left the stag to eat and knelt down by his neck. She gently ran the brush across the stag’s mane, ducking when he lifted his head to regard her again.

She could feel the gratitude in his eyes, the misery of his situation making her heart ache. The stag gently nuzzled her cheek in thanks—as wary of startling her as she was of doing the same—and returned his attention to the food.

A calm silence fell over them, filled with the rasp of the brush, the sigh of the breeze, the rumble of the occasional passing car, and the crunch of the stag munching away on his meal.

Valerie let her mind wander, and it promptly found thoughts of Danny yet again. She had to tell him, had to make sure he knew that she was on his side. They would be able to coordinate against any of Vlad’s schemes much more easily that way, and ghost hunting in general would be safer for both of them if they teamed up. Things had gotten better lately, and they could get even better if she summoned up the courage. But something told her that Sam and Tucker still wouldn’t like it—

An early firework went off a ways down the street, startling both of them. She and the stag shared a slow glance, then she relaxed.

“That was just a firework,” Valerie said, giving the stag a reassuring pat on the forehead. “There’s gonna be a lot more where that came from, so be ready.”

#Danny Phantom #Phanfiction #DP Fanfic #Danny Fenton #Valerie Gray #Vlad Masters #Jack Fenton #Jazz Fenton #Kuzannfic #Danny Phantom Paradigm Shift AU

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five-rivers · 1 year

Text

Life's Great Lie 15

AO3

Edit: Sorry I forgot the readmore!

Predictably, the sand dumped them on top of yet more sand.

“Oh, jeez,” said Valerie, squirming. “I think there’s sand in my underwear.”

“The risks of going to the beach.”

“This is not a beach.”

In fact, they seemed to be in the middle of a sweltering wasteland. Tucker scanned the green and swirling sky for landmarks. Although things moved frequently in the Ghost Zone, they tended to move together.

Tucker shrugged. “It’s sort of a beach. Beach-like, anyway. You should suit up.”

Valerie scowled at him, but activated her suit, the red crawling over her limbs. Before it had finished assembling, Tucker had roughly figured out where they were.

“Far Frozen is the closest. Unfortunately, Skulker’s Island is closer.” He pointed at the skull-shaped island. “We’ll want to avoid him until we have backup, but we might want to swing by later.”

“You’re kidding,” said Valerie.

“Not really. He’s a pain, but he’s got that weird sense of honor. He won’t go after Danny when he’s mind controlled.”

“Yeah, but he might go after me. Or one of you two idiots. It’s not like Norse gods are common.” She flicked her hand out towards Thor, then looked at him. “What is he doing?”

Thor was also surveying the sky, looking grim. “So… This is Helheim.”

“Maybe?” said Tucker with a shrug. “I don’t really know how well your history lines up with mythology, or even if there are, like, other afterlives. Could be a completely different afterlife.”

“It will be difficult to find Banner here. I had hoped he would be somewhere nearby.”

Tucker hadn’t. He was all for giving the guy a good long time to cool down.

“Well, maybe we can get Skulker to find him for us. He’s good at that kind of thing.”

“Yeah, if you want him to hunt Dr. Banner down,” said Valerie.

Tucker turned to look at her. “You sound very incredulous for someone who came to help me recruit ghosts to fight aliens.”

“And you sound very judgmental for a guy who’s going to be riding shotgun on my hoverboard.”

“Hey, this staff isn’t just for show. I can fly, too.”

“You what?”

“Oh, hey, is that who I think it is?” asked Tucker as they started to angle down into the heart of the Far Frozen.

“It is!” exclaimed Thor, putting on a burst of speed. “Banner!”

Dr. Banner jumped, partially dislodging the thick fur blanket the yeti’s had draped around his shoulders.

Well. That was easier than expected.

“Don’t startle me,” he said. “Did you not see what just happened?” He stressed the words, but the rest of him was a picture of practiced calm.

“Now, now,” said Frostbite, “I think you have a much better handle on your condition than you think.”

Dr. Banner responded by rubbing his face. “Everything about this week is so… How did you even get here?”

“Magic,” said Tucker, raising his staff. “And Valerie’s hoverboard.”

“And my hammer! It’s good to see you, Dr. Banner!”

“You’re a doctor!” exclaimed Frostbite. “Why didn’t you say so? We’re always thrilled to meet fellow healers.”

“Oh,” said Dr. Banner. “Um. I didn’t realize you were…”

“The Far Frozen has some of the best doctors in the Realms,” said Tucker.

“We like to think so, certainly! Are you here to pick up your friend? Will the Great One be joining us as well?”

“Er, about that. We need your help…”

Stark Tower was in that strange architectural limbo between ‘almost finished’ and ‘move-in day.’ Sure, such a big building in such a big city would have people moving in as it was finished, not just after the finishing touches, but it was far from full. The top, private, floors were the only ones that were entirely fit for habitation. Most floors lacked furniture, finished paint and other decor, and key wall and ceiling panels.

And, therefore, people.

Ground floor security was easy to take out. From there, it was just a matter of getting the portal set up. Wires put in place. Final touches on the portal device. Alignment. Breaking into Tony Stark’s private bar.

“Are you sure you should be doing that before a battle?” asked Danny.

“We do not become intoxicated nearly so as quickly as you humans.”

He paused, digesting that. “Do Asgardians get alcohol poisoning?”

“No,” said Loki.

Too bad. That meant Danny couldn’t cause mischief by knocking bottles out of Loki’s hand to protect him from the evils of alcohol.

“This is really quite good for a human brew,” mused Loki.

Danny shrugged. He wouldn’t know.

A streak of red and gold outside the window caught Danny’s eye.

“They’re here,” he said. “At least one of them.”

“Wait for him,” ordered Loki. “I am sure we will not have to wait long.”

Tony flew by the tower again, this time spotting Loki through the windows, leaning against his bar. With the portal device having reached the point of being self-sustaining (despite him and the Fentons both believing it wouldn’t get to that point just yet), it looked like he might have to go to Plan B. Or C. Honestly, he’d lost track at this point.

He landed on the platform, past where the gauntlet would have activated. He didn’t want to strip this armor. Even if it was a bit banged up, it was the only set he’d modified to deal with ghosts. With Fenton.

Now, if the aliens started showing up, he might have different priorities.

He glanced upwards at the portal device at the top of the tower. Nothing yet. The Fentons had assured him that he’d know for sure when it was finally activated.

He walked in.

“Please,” drawled Loki, “tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity.”

“Uh,” said Tony, improvising. “Actually, I’m planning to threaten you.”

“Really,” said Loki. “That explains why you’ve kept your armor on.”

“Hm, yeah, I know, not very hospitable of me. I’d offer you a drink, but it looks like you’ve already made yourself at home.”

“Stalling me won't change anything.”

“Oh, I know, I know. But I’m not stalling. I’m threatening! By the way, you doing okay over there, kid?” asked Tony.

Fenton gave him two thumbs up and a dopey grin. “Copacetic.”

“Practicing for your SATs there, kid?”

“Nah, I’d use something like superlative or splendid if I was doing that.”

“Right,” said Tony. “Anyway, you sure are drinking a lot. Having second thoughts?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “What is there to have second thought about? The Chitauri are coming, and nothing can change that. What do I have to fear?”

That… sounded weirdly resigned.

“The Avengers?”

Fenton snorted. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, that just sounds like the name for an edgy boy band. Do you have matching outfits.”

They didn’t, thank God. Teenagers were brutal. “You won’t be laughing when you’re up against the rest of the team. Earth’s mightiest heroes.”

“Well, yeah, you’ve got to save your air for breathing in a fight. Hey, Loki, can I call you Loki Ono?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, she’s famous for breaking up a band.”

“No.”

“We’re not the Beatles, kid.”

“Yeah, if you were musicians, I’d actually be scared.”

“What, and you’re not scared of the demi-god, the super soldier, the Hulk, and a pair of master assassins? All of whom your boss has managed to piss off?” At least partially by kidnapping Fenton, but that was beyond the point.

“Not really,” said Fenton as Loki continued to sip Tony’s top-shelf… actually, no, wait, that was the mead. Why did Tony even have mead? “Not even sure what a Hulk is in this context. That’s not the name of your helicarrier thing, is it? Because if so, yikes. Might as well call it Titanic II.”

“Okay, fine, you’re a teenager, you’re not scared of anything. What about your parents? And what’s his excuse? Kinda sucks to be hiding behind a kid, man.”

“Enough,” said Loki. “I have an army.”

“We have a Hulk.”

“Do you?” Loki smirked, then stalked forward until he was standing just outside of Tony’s reach. “For all your talk of allies, you are awfully alone up here. Tell me, have they abandoned you and whatever ill-formed plan you have to, what, exactly? Save a few more lives? Stave off the… inevitable?”

“You’re missing the point. There’s no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes. Maybe it’s too much. Maybe you win the day. But that’s as far as it goes, because what we can’t protect, we’ll avenge.”

Loki regarded him coolly. “Vengeance, is it?”

“I consider it more balancing the scales of justice.”

“And do you think this world is in balance?” Loki laughed, the sound slightly hysterical. “There are those who would disagree with you!”

The tower shuddered, just slightly. Tony twisted to see a beam of light pushing its way into the sky. So much for his hope that Loki would have to do something to the portal to make it work. But that had only been Plan G.

“Take care of him.”

Tony turned back to see Fenton directly between himself and Loki. The boy smiled the kind of smile that wouldn’t be out of place on an exhausted child actor. Cherubic and unhinged.

“Speaking of vengeance, I never did pay you back for what you did to Tucker, did I?”

He put his hand flat against Tony’s chest and shoved.

This was one of those good news, bad news situations. Only, it also had a worse news category.

Good news: Mr. Stark, Iron Man, whatever, had added ghost countermeasures to his armor.

Bad news: They hurt.

Worse news: They didn’t hurt nearly enough to stop Danny.

Good news: Loki seemed to be processing some of the cognitive dissonance that had (presumably) been shoved down his throat via mind control.

Bad news: There wasn’t any more time for him to process it.

Worse news: Even if this fight turned out the way they hoped, Loki would probably be killed for what he’d done.

Good news: Selvig had successfully put a couple of really nasty fail-safes into the design of the portal device.

Bad news: No one that wasn’t mind-controlled knew about them.

Worse news: There was an alien army descending on the streets of New York, and despite all his hinting, it looked like his ghost army plan had fallen through.

Millions of people could die today.

Danny would be, at least partially, responsible.

But there wasn’t time to contemplate any of those problems, because being thrown through a window didn’t really stop a guy with jet boots.

Iron Man shot a volley of ectoblasts at Danny. The mechanism for the blasters seemed to be shielded, or at least notably altered from his parents’ original designs, so he couldn’t steal the spark from it like he’d been able to do with the SHIELD agents in Germany. That was fine. Danny deflected half of them and snatched the other half out of the air before throwing them back, pushing Iron Man further away from the window.

Please let him decide the aliens were the bigger threat. Danny didn’t want to be stuck fighting him.

Luckily, his prayers seemed to be answered. Iron Man pulled away, spiraling to meet a flight of small alien ships. Danny watched him for a moment before turning and following Loki out to the balcony.

“Now what?” he asked.

“Now we wait,” said Loki.

The Ops Center threaded its way between skyscrapers. “Not a lot of places to park, here, guys,” said Jazz, glancing over her shoulder in hope of guidance. “Someone’s going to have to give me more directions soon.”

“Just keep following that light,” said Captain America, shrugging on a backpack of some sort. “You’ll want to wait until you’re as close as possible to turn on the ghost portal.”

Jazz did a doubletake. “Is that one of the emergency parachutes? I don’t know when they were last checked—”

“They’re from the quinjet,” said Black Widow, striding by with a parachute of her own.

“But—”

“We’re hoping you can park us on a skyscraper, don’t worry,” said Barton.

“Easy for you to say,” grumbled Sam.

“I don’t know, you’re the one with a jet pack.”

“I’m the one that knows how to use a jet pack. And I’m staying with the Ops Center, anyway.”

Something Jazz was glad for. The Ops Center was great, but it would be a sitting duck once it was parked and acting as a platform for the portal, and she, well, she had an arrow hole in her shoulder. Not great for the whole fighting thing. Or even really for flying.

This injury would definitely have repercussions later in life, which was something she was trying not to think about too much right now.

“Oh, what is that? Is that a space whale?” asked Sam, leaning forward over Jazz’s shoulder.

It did in fact look like a space whale.

“I don’t know,” said Jazz. “Should I put down?”

“We’ll want our portal as close as possible, sweetie!” called Maddie from somewhere in the depths. “Keep going!”

“We’re not quite done with it yet, anyway!” yelled Jack.

Black Widow hissed something in Russian. Jazz reciprocated the sentiment. They didn’t really have time.

But what they had would have to be enough. The radar screen lit up, beeping urgently.

“We have fliers inbound.”

“Great,” said Black Widow. “Let’s see if we can’t get a couple.”

Natasha stood next to Barton and watched as Captain Rogers cranked open the lower hatch, then tapped her earpiece. “You’ll have to get us over them and slow,” she said. “Still think you can do that?”

“I said I could,” said Jasmine Fenton.

Natasha almost rolled her eyes. Teenagers. Except she’d never been quite like that. Never got the chance.

(She couldn’t help but think that Jasmine Fenton would have made a great Widow. She already had ignoring pain down.)

“Hold on tight, everyone. Ride’s about to get bumpy.”

The Ops Center tipped upward suddenly, forcing everyone to grab onto the handrails, and accellerated.

“So, uh,” shouted Barton over the wind, “I don’t think we actually discussed how we’re going to do this!”

“That’s because we’re not! I am!”

“Oh, that really makes me feel a lot better!”

“Contact in five, four, three—”

The rest of Jazz’s countdown was cut off by the impacts of the chitauri’s weapons on the Ops Center shield.

“Be ready to cut shielding!” She saw black-brown outside the window, getting closer. “Now!”

She jumped. Free fall lasted less than a second and then she was bringing her knee down on an alien helm. She twisted, kicked, and grabbed the handlebars. Time to see whether or not these aliens thought similarly enough to humans to design vehicles in a way she could understand. Not at all guaranteed, given that American and Russian vehicles often felt like they were made on two different planets.

But that was what the parachute was for.

It was fine.

She pulled back, the vehicle arcing, reversing course. Great.

“Bringing it back around.”

“Great, tell me when you need me to let you in.”

“The portal is ready,” chimed in Maddie Fenton. “Should we activate now, or…?”

“See the building at our two o’clock?” asked Captain America.

“Yeah?”

“Anchor there. Hawkeye, is that a good enough position for you?”

“I can make it work.”

“Great,” said Natasha. “Captain, get ready for pickup.”

“Roger that.”

Jazz pulled a lever and felt a jolt as two thick Fenton Cables hit the roof of the building under them, securing the Ops Center as much as it could be away from its home base on top of Fentonworks.

“Ready, sweetie?”

Jazz locked eyes with the spindly, monster-spewing white tower extending upwards from Tony Stark’s skyscraper. At this range, she could see small figures moving around on the roof of the building.

“Yeah, ready,” she said. “Ops Center secure.”

The lights flickered, and a high-pitched whine emanated from belowdecks. Then, from right beneath where Jazz’s pilot seat, a horizontal beam of bubbly green shot out before splashing against nothing, only meters away from the Tesseract portal beam. She twisted her controls, changing the Ops Center’s bearings and sweeping their portal beam further away from the other portal beam. She didn’t know what crossing them would do, but she didn’t want to find out.

The end of the ectoplasmic beam twisted, trembled, flexed, and a vibrantly green portal swirled into existence.

“Guess we’re just waiting on Tucker, now,” said Sam.

“Or on Danny,” replied Jazz, grimly. The figures on the roof had stopped moving.

She was quite certain one of them was her brother.

“What in the Nine Realms is that?” demanded Loki.

“A ghost portal,” said Danny.

Loki bared his teeth and visibly started to grind them. “One of your parents’ creations?”

“Most likely.”

“Do you know how to disable it?”

“Probably, yeah. Are you going to tell me to do it?” If he did, and if Loki was clever about his wording, Danny would have to hope that his nature as a ghost would be able to overpower the mind control in at least this specific instance.

Loki glared down at him. “No,” he said. “You’re staying with me. Let them play with their toys. They will be no match for the chitauri.”

“… And that’s why we need your help.”

Pandora nodded gravely. “I see,” she said. “We will join you. An invasion of Earth affects all of us, even here. I will send one of my fastest messengers to the Dragon Kingdom, so you may lead us to the portal at once.”

“Er, problem,” said Tucker. “There is no portal yet. It’s—”

The Fenton Finder beeped. He pulled it up from where it hung on his belt, scanning the screen.

“Never mind,” he said. “Portal’s right this way.”

This is probably it for this fic for the next month or so! I'm participating in the Phic Phight again this year, and that usually sweeps me away quite handily. You might see more chapters for Dannymay, though!

Wish me luck!

#life's great lie #danny phantom #op!dannyxmarvel #op!dannyxmarvel au #danny phantom/marvel #dp/mcu #dp/marvel

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twoidiotwriters1 · 20 days

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The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Funfact! Eros and Psyche are my actual parents and I am their child -Danny Words: 2,182 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Would've Could've Should've' -by Taylor Swift

XXXVII: I Am So Very Extremely Extraordinarily Normal Right Now

Ara scans the crowd of mortals but no one gives her weird vibes yet, these kids look their age but they're here to enjoy the summer. Ara and her friends are here to fight a war, she envies them.

"Are you gonna tell me what you meant back in the ship or—"

Ara hushes him. "It's not safe."

Nico frowns. "Did you hear Nemesis? Or Janus?"

"No. It felt different," she says dryly. "Like it was threatening to hurt me if I didn't come along."

"Are you seeing this?" Jason points at an ice cream cart.

Nico stops and squints. "Maybe we should buy some ice cream."

Ara studies the appearance of the person Jason has spotted: a young man that reminds her of Leo if Leo were some king of wind spirit: handsome with dark curly hair and large warm-colored wings.

"He's not a returned spirit," Nico says deep in thought. "Or a creature of the Underworld."

"No. I doubt they would eat chocolate-covered ice cream bars," Jason mutters.

"So what is he?" Nico asks.

Ara has a bad feeling about him even if the guy looks harmless. He smiles before vanishing, but Jason can track his aura, so he takes the lead. Ara keeps her grip on Almighty firm and ready.

"I'm betting that's the palace," Jason points to the ruins. "Come on."

Her heart starts beating like crazy, she feels butterflies and her hands get clammy, and the symptoms do not match her usual anxiety, this feels like the kind of nerves she felt seated on the porch swing with Leo, all those months ago in camp.

"We've got to catch him," Jason prepares to fly. "Hold on."

"But—"

The boy seizes both Nico and Ara and flies them to the other side of the tall walls where there are more tourists, none of those mortals seem to notice them.

"A little warning would be nice!" Ara hisses. "Man, you can't just pick me up like that! Where are we anyway?"

"The peristyle. This was the entrance to Diocletian's private residence." Nico turns to Jason and glares at him. "And please, I don't like being touched. Don't ever grab me again."

Jason looks at both teens, both younger and smaller than him and yet more intimidating than he's comfortable admitting. "Uh, okay. Sorry. How do you know what this place is called?"

"I've been here before," Nico responds quietly. "With my mother and Bianca. A weekend trip from Venice. I was maybe... six?"

"That was when... the 1930s?"

"'Thirty-eight or so," Nico hums. "Why do you care? Do you see that winged guy anywhere?"

"No..." Jason says, eyeing the boy intently.

Ara's used to being the bad guy in Nico's eyes, and at this point, she doesn't care about upsetting him further, so she voices what Jason is thinking. "I think it's impressive that you've retained information of such an old memory, considering all you've been through."

Jason doesn't want them to fight when he's the only one around to stop them. "I agree, can't imagine how weird that must be, coming from another time."

"No, you can't," Nico snaps. Ara clears her throat, reminding him they've made a deal. The boy relaxes a bit. "Look... I don't like talking about it. Honestly, I think Hazel has it worse. She remembers more about when she was young. She had to come back from the dead and adjust to the modern world. Me... me and Bianca, we were stuck at the Lotus Hotel. Time passed so quickly. In a weird way, that made the transition easier."

"Percy told me about that place," Jason nods. "Seventy years, but it only felt like a month?"

Nico clenches his fist. "Yeah. I'm sure Percy and Ara told you all about me."

"Yeah, and how much of a nuance you are," Ara replies sarcastically. "I'm planning to kill you as soon as you're done helping us."

"That's not funny," Jason gives her a look.

"No, it's not," Ara agrees heatedly. "It's ridiculous that he thinks we're always trying to make him look bad in front of—"

"Well, you had no problem talking shit about me to Lily."

"That's not—"

"Roman dead are everywhere here..." Nico interrupts her, walking away. "Lares. Lemures. They're watching. They're angry. We shouldn't stay here for long."

"They're looking at us?" Jason tenses, reaching for his sword and kind of glad to have a way to derail the argument.

"At everything." Nico points ahead. "That used to be a temple to Jupiter. The Christians changed it to a baptistery. The Roman ghosts don't like that. And over there... That was the mausoleum of the emperor."

"But his tomb isn't there anymore," Jason responds.

"Not for centuries," Nico agrees. "When the empire collapsed, the building was turned into a Christian cathedral."

Jason swallowed. "So if Diocletian's ghost is still around here—"

"He's probably not happy."

Jason nudges her arm. "That way. The winged guy. Where do you think those stairs lead?"

"Underground," Nico smiles coldly. "My favorite place."

As they enter the passageway, Ara thinks about stuff she hasn't thought of in ages. It could be Athena's blessing, but she's thinking about how ephemeral the world she comes from is. One day it's there, then it's just a fun tourist attraction falling to pieces.

Her dreams, none of that will go anywhere. In the end, she'll die, and all that was precious to her will become ruins. It's pointless. Even her laurel wreath, given to her as a tribute to her sacrifices, will get buried under debris at some point. Nothing matters.

"Ara?"

The girl gives a start. "Sorry, what?"

"The note," Jason tells her. "I asked if you could give it to me, I think this is a good place."

Ara draws out the note from her Octopi bag and hands it to him, he leaves it under a bust of Diocletian.

"Okay, that's done," Ara takes a deep breath, shaken by her disheartening thoughts. "Can we—"

"Hello!" Out of instinct, Jason cuts the statue's head. Ara pulls out Almighty too, finding the wind spirit they'd been following right behind them. "That wasn't very nice," he says. "I mean, what did Diocletian ever do to you?"

The statue fixes itself, and Jason glances at it before turning to the young man. "Uh—It was an accident. You startled me."

"Jason Grace, the West Wind has been called many things... Warm, gentle, life-giving, and devilishly handsome. But I have never been called startling. I leave that crass behavior to my gusty brethren in the north." The guy grins.

"The West Wind?" Nico takes a step forward. "You mean you're—"

"Favonius," Jason states. "God of the West Wind."

"You can call me by my Roman name, certainly, or Zephyros, if you're Greek. I'm not hung up about it."

"Why aren't your Greek and Roman sides in conflict, like the other gods?" Nico frowns.

"Oh, I have the occasional headache—Some mornings I'll wake up in a Greek chiton when I'm sure I went to sleep in my SPQR pajamas. But mostly the war doesn't bother me. I'm a minor god, you know—never really been much in the limelight. The to-and-fro battles among you demigods don't affect me as greatly."

Ara eyes him, his presence makes her uneasy. "And you're here to talk about...?"

"The sarcophagus of Diocletian," he answers. "This was its final resting place. The Christians moved it out of the mausoleum. Then some barbarians destroyed the coffin. I just wanted to show you that what you're looking for isn't here. My master has taken it."

Ara gets a gut reaction that makes her knees buckle. Her back hits the wall, this is far from good.

"Your master?" Jason asks in alarm. "Please tell me your master isn't Aeolus."

"That airhead? No, of course not," he laughs.

"He means Eros," Nico points out. "Cupid, in Latin."

"Very good, Nico di Angelo. I'm glad to see you again, by the way. It's been a long time."

"I've never met you," he steps back scowling.

"You've never seen me, but I've been watching you. When you came here as a small boy, and several times since. I knew eventually you would return to look upon my master's face." He turns to Ara, his smile growing. "He has kept an eye on you too, Princess of Troy."

Ara's grip tightens around her sword, and Nico is starting to look uneasy as well.

Jason looks at them. "Guys, what's he talking about?"

"I don't know. Nothing," Nico says anxiously.

"Nothing? The one you care for most... plunged into Tartarus, and still you will not allow the truth?"

"That's enough," Ara intervenes in a harsh and demanding tone. "My brother has no business keeping that scepter, we need it."

Favonius tilts his head. "You know, long before this was Diocletian's Palace, it was the gateway to my master's court, so you see, it is very much all over his business. I've dwelt here for eons, bringing those who sought love into the presence of Cupid."

"Like Psyche, Cupid's wife," Jason offers. "You carried her to his palace."

"Your favorite myth, daughter of Olympus," Favonius grins. "You know, your brother was always quite flattered. From this exact spot, I carried Psyche on the winds and brought her to the chambers of my master. In fact, that is why Diocletian built his palace here. This place has always been graced by the gentle West Wind. It is a spot of tranquility and love in a turbulent world. When Diocletian's Palace was ransacked—"

"If Eros has the scepter and you're here to let us know," Ara interrupts him again, "that means he's willing to hand it to us?"

"It is one of Cupid's many treasures, a reminder of better times. If you want it..." Favonius looks at her and Nico intently. "You must face the god of love."

"Guys, you can do this," Jason says, oblivious to why this freaks them out. "It might be embarrassing, but it's for the scepter."

"You're right," Nico attempts to look brave. "I—I'm not afraid of a love god."

Nothing in this world terrifies Ara nearly as much as love does. Real love—the one that claws at your insides and brings you to your knees—breaks, wounds, and changes you. Love destroyed Nico's youthful spirit. Love took young, gullible Ara, and ate away every bit that was sweet and tender. Nemesis has no other face but Ara's, because she can only hurt love when she hurts herself.

Favonious's gaze brightens at Nico's words. "Excellent! Would you like a snack before you go? Oh, bluster—I keep forgetting my symbol is a basket of unripe fruit. Why doesn't the spring wind get more credit? Summer has all the fun." He makes a face.

"That's okay," Nico urges him. "Just take us to Cupid."

They land on solid ground and Ara crashes against Nico, he catches her before she falls.

"Yes, mortal bodies are terribly bulky," Favonius hums when he sees their conditions. "Honestly, I don't know how you stand it, day in and day out."

Ara moves away from Nico and steadies her breathing, she doesn't know what Eros will force upon them, but she refuses to look frightened. This is the one monster she's been wanting to fight for years.

"Welcome to Salona. Capital of Dalmatia! Birthplace of Diocletian! But before that, long before that, it was the home of Cupid—Oh, he's not like that," the god says of nowhere.

Jason gives a start. "You can read my mind?"

"I don't need to," the man shrugs, playing with a bronze hoop he's been carrying the whole time. "Everyone has the wrong impression of Cupid... until they meet him. This one seems to be the only one who knows what she's about to face," he points at Ara.

Ara looks around waiting to spot Eros somewhere. Beside her Nico stumbles onto a column, the anxiety of the moment seems to be weighing on him.

"Ah... I don't blame you for being nervous, Nico di Angelo. Do you know how I ended up serving Cupid?"

"I don't serve anyone," Nico growls. "Especially not Cupid."

Favonius sighs. "I fell in love with a mortal named Hyacinthus. He was quite extraordinary."

"He...?" Jason pauses. "Oh..."

"Yes, Jason Grace." Favonius turns to him. "I fell in love with a dude. Does that shock you?"

"I guess not. So... Cupid struck you with his arrow, and you fell in love."

"Jason, be quiet." Ara is freaking out, her mouth is drying, and she knows what this god is insinuating.

The god grins. "Arae Jackson, you were an Aphrodite once, but now you're not fond of love..."

"I'd get along with him just fine if he'd leave me alone," she grumbles.

"Oh, but it isn't his fault, not really. He used his arrows on you, yes, but the arai were the ones who got carried away with you. My master has tried to help, but well, love can't fight itself!"

"Ara, what is he—"

"It doesn't matter," she responds with a fiery gaze. "It doesn't mean he isn't enjoying my pain. He's worse than our Mother."

"Perhaps," the god smirks. "But right now, he's one of the few gods willing to lighten your burden. You want to save your friends, don't you? Make up for what you can't stop from happening."

"Eros!" Ara calls out impatiently.

The air shifts and speeds up around them. Favonius sighs. "That would be my cue. Think long and hard about how you proceed. You cannot lie to Cupid. If you let your anger rule you... well, your fate will be even sadder than mine."

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #leo valdez fanfic #doo #leo valdez x oc #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians

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enigmatist17 · 3 months

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This is 100% pandering for probably me :')

I am absolutely feral for Simon, and Steve is 100% the kinda guy to have friends (well he doesn't think of them as friends because Steve doesn't have friends, but Danny is working on that with him) all over the world, and if they need help? He's got your back :)

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

They all drive on the wrong side of the road here.

It's the first thing Simon thinks when he steps out of the airport, duffel bag readjusted as he scans the cars coming in and out of the pick up zone. The heat isn't as suffocating as it was back home, the Australian almost wondering if he was going to need some sort of sweater when a silver camaro pulls up just in front of him.

"Always on time eh?" The taller man who piles out of the car just chuckles, moving to help scoop up the other bags piled behind where Simon had been standing up and into the luggage rack attached on top.

"Pretty sure my commanding officer would appear from thin air if I wasn't."

"Probably not, but thanks all the same, McGarrett."

"Don't mention it. Come on, my place isn't far and you look like you need a day to just blackout."

"Tell me about it mate." Simon climbed into the passenger seat, sinking back with a relieved groan. "Forgot how much I hate flying."

"Well, you're not going anywhere anytime soon, so no more worries for now." The SEAL slipped back into the driver's seat after making sure everything was secured, and soon the duo were driving out and into the island after some minor traffic.

"Mate, the pictures you've sent don't do this place justice." Simon whistled, taking in the area while digging out his phone to take a short video. Steve just smiled to himself while turning on the radio, the occasional crow from the Aussie beside him breaking the amicable silence between them.

"Do you mind if I swing by work to grab something real quick?" Finally distracted with taking videos and pictures, Simon glanced over with a shrug.

“I’m not bitin’ to go anywhere, s’long as we can get some brekkie afterwards.”

“It’s 14:00, but I know a few people who can hook you up, my treat.”

“That’ll work.” Simon’s back popped a little bit as he stretched, eyeing some of the older buildings with an interested hum. The police department they pull up to is no different, Steve pausing for a moment when Simon got out alongside him. “Need to stretch is all.”

“C’mon, you can meet the gang.”

“Is your Danno bloke there?” Simon grinned, catching the way Steve’s head jerked in surprise. “What?”

“He’s not my Danno…” The SEAL grumbled as they headed up and into the building, the Aussie eyeing the station up and amused to find it wasn’t too different from his own once you stepped inside. Desks from 1975, coffee machines that barely ran as such, and desk chairs that probably needed to have been thrown out ages ago, Simon shakes his head in amusement as Steve takes him into an area that was finally part of modern times. He can see a small group huddled around some sort of central monitor station, a shorter blonde man waving his arms around while he explains something Simon can’t quite catch until they’re within range.

“Did I miss something?” Steve interrupted the blonde, who shot him an annoyed look before catching sight of Simon.

“Yes you did, and who is this?” The accent made Simon smile a bit, and he stepped forward with a wave.

“You’re Danno right?” The look Danno shot Steve would have sent just about anyone running, but the other just smiles a bit before heading for his office while pulling out his phone.

“Detective Danny Williams. So, c’mon, name.” Danny waved for Simon to speak, clearly sizing the Aussie up. Simon doesn’t get a chance to open his mouth before the woman beside Danny nudged his side hard enough to make the Jersey detective grunt.

"Before he hogs all the attention, I'm Officer Kono Kalakaua." Kono grinned, offering a hand to give Simon a firm handshake. "And that's my cuz Chin."

"Lieutenant Chin Ho Kelly." The men across the table gave a small wave, and Simon clocked him as probably one of the calmer team members. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise, I've heard only good things about you lot." Simon waved back, aware that Danny was still staring at him. "Detective Senior Constable Simon Joyner, nice to meet ya.” Simon flashes his biggest smile, and the grumpy blonde softens just a fraction.

For a moment blonde hair turns black, pale skin sunkissed, and Simon can let himself be selfish for a moment before the familiar image fades in the blink of an eye.

“Fancy title, but nice to see another cop ‘round here. Four of us might finally outrank the super SEAL, which I’m curious to know exactly how you know him?” Danny crossed his arms as he leaned back against the monitor, the movement more relaxed rather than cautionary.

“Uh, well I nearly ran over ‘im when he and some of his buddies were celebratin’ something.” Simon let out a slightly embarrassed laugh, noting quite a few eyes looking over at Steve in his office, the man looking slightly confused at all the looks as he spoke on the phone. “Stevie remembered me, tracked me down somehow, and treated me to drinks as thanks for making sure he and his lot got back to their hotel.”

“Stevie? Since when can anyone call him Stevie, because I sure as hell can’t call him Stevie.” Danny complained, earning a few chuckles from the other two who had been watching most of this in amusement.

"Didn't know he was one of them fancy American soldiers, and we just kept in touch after that." Simon hummed, stretching a little bit with a slight wince.

"So are you visiting then?"

“Uh, sorta?” Simon shrugged, “Always been meanin’ to catch up with Stevie, and nows a time as any.”

“In the middle of the holiday season?” Chin asked, and luckily Steve exited his office before Simon could squirm in discomfort.

“Simon, I’m ready to head out if you are.” The Aussie nodded, noting some files tucked under Steve’s arm. “Call if you guys need me.”

“Will do, now off with you.” Danny made a shooing motion. “Poor kid looks like he’s about to drop.”

“‘M not a kid…” Simon groused, but gave a cheerful wave as he and Steve headed back to the car, fighting back a few yawns. The island state was beautiful enough to keep the Australian alert enough as they eventually pulled to the stop outside a modest little home, Simon pilling out and glancing around with a low whistle.

“You’re set up here mate.”

“It’s nothing special.” Steve shrugged, grabbing the carry-on luggage. “I’ve got the guest bed set up, room has an attached shower.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Simon grabbed whatever was left before following Steve inside, figuring he’d get the rest of his stuff later. “You lot need to worry about spiders here?”

“Uh a little bit, not as bad as what you’re used to.” Steve watched as Simon set his shoes upside down by the door before scanning the floor, quietly glad they didn’t have as much deadly wildlife here at home. The guest room was a decent size, the queen bed dressed with fresh sheets and a newly assembled set of dressers tucked in the corner. “If we need more let me know, and I’ll go pick up an extra set.”

“Nah I can make it work, this is too much already mate.” Simon dumped his backpack on the bed, clearly blown away by the generosity.

“Hey, I get it.” The meaning hung heavy in the air as Simon kept his eyes on the floor, and was glad that Steve was not one to press. “Need a drink or anything?”

“No, I’m fine.” He manages to scrounge up a strangled thing of a smile, and Steve places the two suitcases he’d carried in by the door before vanishing without a sound, the door closing with a soft click. Simon wastes no time pulling out a fresh set out lounge clothes and his travel bag before retreating to the bathroom.

The warm water did it’s job washing away the weariness of travel, and for a good minute Simon looks out the window that slowly fogs up, the crashing waves a small comfort. It’s not like back home, not the same sounds of Bondi that had filled many a happy afternoon, not what he heard with a certain kis-

Simon curses and flicks the water so it’s cold, and the sea vanishes behind the condensation as he finishes his shower and shuts the water off. He’s trembling a little when he dries off and slips on his comfort clothes, throwing his phone to charge on the bedside table before crawling under the sheets.

The waves are the last thing he hears before exhaustion finally takes hold, a blinding smile flashing in his mind's eye before Simon drifts into a dreamless sleep.

#hawaii five 0 #danny williams #steve mcgarrett #mcdanno #chin ho kelly #kono kalakaua #city homicide #duncan freeman #simon joyner #duncan x simon #absolutely feral #it's a random older Australian show but dammit I love it #personal

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janksfatass · 2 years

Text

SMUT 18+

Summary: After your fling with Jake, he invites you to a party and things don’t go exactly as planned.

Warnings: nudes, alcohol, oral f rec, unprotected sex, romantic!josh

Word count: 2400

You finish typing up your fifth report for the day and look at the clock. Goddamn it. It’s only 4? Ok just one more hour until the weekend. You got this. You don’t have plans this weekend but you also don’t want to spend another second in the hellscape that is your job. You look around for something to do when you hear your phone chime.

Jake K. 4:11 P.M.

1 attachment

You open the message and quickly slam your phone down on your desk and look around to make sure no one is standing near you. You flip your phone back over to look at the most beautiful penis you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

“Ready for round 2 😏”

That cheeky bastard. You laugh to yourself before thinking of a witty reply.

“Wouldn’t the next time technically be round 3? 🤔”

You hit send and browse the internet while awaiting his response. Which will most likely involve a smart ass comment, coming from him.

Your phone chimes again.

Jake K. 4:18 P.M.

“I only came once. Come over tonight at 9. We’re having a small party. After a few drinks we can even the score? 👀”

“Deal.” You reply.

On your way home you think about what you’re going to wear. The dress made for easy access but this time you want to give him more of a challenge. You make a U turn at the next light and head to the mall for some light shopping.

When you arrive home, you head upstairs bags in hand. You set them down on your bed and pull out the black lace bra and panty set you selected specifically for Jake. It is his favorite color after all. Oh yeah, he’s going to go absolutely wild when he sees this. You reach into the other bag to lay out your chosen outfit for the night, a cropped black form fitting shirt with a deep v neckline and a pair of distressed dark blue skinny jeans. You figure your vans will pair well with it. You go to the bathroom to undress and pick up your phone. Maybe I should return the favor… You open your camera and snap a quick pic in the mirror to send to Jake. You jump in the shower and shave EVERYTHING in preparation for the night. When you get out, you check your phone.

Jake K. 8:46 P.M.

“Oh my fucking god. You are a goddess. Change of plans, party started an hour ago…”

You roll your eyes before responding,

“Be patient baby. Good things come to good boys who wait 😘”

After getting dressed, you decide to pull your hair into a half up bun and do loose curls on the bottom. For makeup, you go with a simple nude eye with slim winged eyeliner and a lip plumping gloss. Perfect. You spritz on a couple sprays of ‘Gucci Guilty.’ Then head out the door.

You arrive at Jake's shortly after 9:30 and park your car in the driveway. You walk up and press the doorbell. A few seconds later, the door swings open to reveal a wasted Sam.

“Jakey boy! Your lady has arrived.” He bows obnoxiously and motions you inside.

Jake shakes his head at his younger brother. “Dude, you’re fucking hammered. Maybe you need to lay down.” Jake pulls you in for a hug and plants a kiss on your cheek. “You look breathtaking, Angel.”

Pet names starting already? This man is killing me.

Sam stumbles forward a bit and flips Jake the bird and says, “Maybe you need to get laid.”

“Yea, that’s kind of the goal here.” Jake laughs and shoots you a wink. Sam wanders off. “So Jack and coke again?”

“Actually, do you have tequila?” You ask.

“Only the finest for you my dear.”

He leads you into the kitchen where you find Josh and Danny talking to some other guests.

Jake pours you both shots and begins cutting up a lime.

“Hey Y/N!” Josh shouts at you and barrels towards you wrapping you into a big hug. You laugh, surprised at his reaction to seeing you and pat him on the back.

Danny smiles and waves at you and continues his conversation.

“How long have you been here?” Josh asks you.

“Oh not long, maybe like 5 minutes or so.”

“Well, the party's just getting started. Oo tequila? My weakness.”

Jake pours a third shot for Josh and places all of them on the counter. He gives you your slice of lime and brings your hand up to his mouth. He licks a small area on the back of your hand and sprinkles sea salt on it.

“Alright, cheers!”

The three of you lick the salt off your hands, down your shots, and suck the limes.

A few shots and a few beers later, you find yourself sitting in the living room, Led Zeppelin blaring from the record player, next to Jake. All of you are sufficiently drunk. Some more than others.

“I’ll be right back, Doll.” Jake stands up and walks off.

“So having fun yet?” You hear Josh say as he plops down on the couch next to you and wraps his arm around your shoulders. He has a sparkle in his eyes and a shit eating grin on his face. His cheeks are tinged pink from the alcohol and body heat radiating in the room.

“Yeah, it’s so nice to relax like this after a long week.”

Josh scoots a little closer to you and places his other hand on your leg. You look up at him, somewhat taken aback.

“Oh, I’m sure. Always good to take care of yourself.” He says. “So, since my brother just disappeared on you, would you wanna go somewhere a little quieter? Just you and me?”

Any other time you would think Josh just wanted to talk. But right now, the look in his glassy eyes, tells you he has other things on his mind.

Josh IS extremely attractive. And sweet. And funny. And Jake and I aren't ‘exclusive.’ You think about it for a few more seconds and ultimately decide against it.

“Josh, you do know I’m seeing your brother?”

“Well yeah, but I didn’t think it was anything serious. You just look so gorgeous tonight. Well you do all the time, but I was picking my jaw up off the floor after I saw you walk into the kitchen earlier.”

You start to blush. And he definitely notices.

“I appreciate it, Josh. Really. That’s very sweet of you to say. I just don’t think it’s a great idea to hook up with my hook up’s twin. Rockstar or not.”

“Y/N, don’t sweat it. I figured I'd give it a shot because if I didn’t, I know I’d be kicking myself in the ass tomorrow.” Josh pats your knee and stands up to go find Danny and Sam. “I guess I’m gonna go on a hunt for Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dipshit.” He walks off.

You take a sip of your drink and decide it’s time to break the seal. You eventually find the bathroom. When you stand, the drinks you’ve had seem to catch up to you all at once. You’re not on the verge of being sick but definitely wasted. While washing your hands, you check yourself out in the mirror. Your hair is pretty much intact aside from some flyaways but your eyeliner is beginning to smudge and your lip gloss is all but erased. You smooth your hair down and touch up your makeup and head back to the living room.

Walking past everyone(albeit a tad clumsily) you seek out Jake but he’s nowhere to be found. You spot Danny and go up to him to ask, “Have you seen Jake anywhere?”

“Not in a while. He might have gone upstairs.” Then continues with his conversation.

You walk upstairs and down the hallway. You’re not sure which room is his. The first door you try looks to be an office. The next one, a bathroom. You make your way to the door at the end of the hall and when you open it, the lights are off but you see Jake passed out in bed. Apparently, someone drank a little TOO much. You kick off your shoes and strip down then climb into bed with him, deciding being the big spoon once wouldn’t hurt. You snuggle up to him and drape your arm over his waist. You close your eyes but your brain just doesn’t want to slow down. He promised me a round 3. You snake your hand down his hip and into his boxer briefs to find he is already hard as a rock. You stroke him gently and he starts to stir and mumble a bit.

“That feels so good mama.”

The man in the bed was not Jake.

Your previously half lidded eyes bolt open and you jerk your hand away.

Still laying away from you, “What’s the matter sweetheart? Was it something I said?” You can tell he is wearing a smug grin on his face.

“I thought you were Jake.”

He rolls over to face you. “You couldn’t tell that it wasn’t his cock that was in your hand?”

“I’ve had quite a bit to drink, I didn’t think you would be in bed. You said you were going to find, what was it? Oh. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dipshit.”

“I was but then I got really tired so I decided to just go to sleep. But I’m wide awake now.”

He takes his hand and slowly glides it over your hip. Maybe it was the alcohol, but feeling Josh’s touch sends chills down your body. You feel goosebumps beginning to form and your nipples harden.

“Would you like to finish what you started?” He asks in a low sleepy voice.

You think about it for a moment. Technically you ARE single, so you wouldn’t really be doing anything wrong.

“ONE time. And that’s it.” You state very firmly.

“Ok. I guess I need to make this one count then.” He grabs your shoulders and rolls you to your back and starts kissing from your collarbone, up your neck, and whispers into your ear, “I’m going to fucking devour that tight pussy, mama.” He sits you up for a second to unclasp your bra and kisses down your chest. Taking one breast in his hand, he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pulls the other into his mouth. He sucks on it softly and flicks his tongue over the bud. He moves lower, kissing your stomach and above your pubic bone. He slips his fingers under the band of your lace panties and you lift your hips up for him. Your heart is beating out of your chest. Josh’s touch is much gentler than Jake’s. He seems to really put effort into making sure you feel good. He slides your panties off of you and spreads your legs. He cups his hands under your ass and licks up your heat before planting a kiss onto your clit. He flattens his tongue and licks you up and down in a rapid motion hitting your clit each time. Sucking and slurping on your lips, he uses his thumb to rub quick circles onto your clit. Replacing his thumb with his mouth, he slips a finger into you, immediately knowing where to target. You shift your legs a bit and let out a loud moan. “Fuck, Josh I’m going to cum!”

He lifts his head up for a moment, “Cum for me, mama. Look me in the eyes while you cum on my face. You taste so fucking good.”

Holding eye contact with you, he places his mouth back on your clit sucking it hard into his mouth while quickly flicking his tongue over it. High pitched moans escape from your body as you slip your fingers into his soft curly hair to attempt to pull him even closer. The building orgasm in your core has you grinding into his face. Josh can sense that you’re about to come undone. He grunts into you as his tongue picks up speed and the vibrations send you over the edge. “Josh oh my fucking god!” You scream out as you ride out your orgasm on his face. Your breath begins to slow and he lifts up from you, “Are you ready for me now baby?”

“Fuck yes, Josh, please I need it!”

He slips the head over you a few times before slowly sliding into you completely. You both moan from the feeling.

“You feel like heaven wrapped around my cock, Mama. So tight. It’s like your pussy was made for me.”

He leans down to kiss you and you open your mouth for him. His tongue gliding over yours. He starts fucking into you, slow but deep. Gradually, he picks up his pace and lifts one of your legs onto his shoulder. The new position has him driving into you even deeper, hitting your g spot with every stroke. You start spasming around him, your second orgasm quickly approaching.

“You gonna cum for me again, Princess? You can do it baby. I’m so close.”

He reaches down to rub tight circles over your clit and you let out an earth shattering moan as your orgasm drapes over you like a warm blanket.

“Don’t pull out. I want you to fill me. I want to feel it drip down onto my thighs.”

Your statement seems to have an effect on him because as soon as the last word escapes your lips, his movements slow until he comes to a complete stop. He pushes himself all the way into you one last time before pulling out.

Without a word, he gets up and goes into the bathroom and turns on the faucet to the bathtub. After a few moments he comes back into the room, scoops you up and carries you to the bathroom and sets you down into the warm water. He climbs in after you. You turn around and scoot up to him and lean back onto his chest.

“You are absolutely incredible, Mama. Has anyone ever told you that?”

You smile and reply to him, “Once or twice.”

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #jake gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #jake kiszka smut #josh kiszka smut

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captainnameless · 1 year

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Okay but thinking of Sebastian supreme dad status... him looking after and comforting a little Max because Daniel can’t be and isn’t there

another vintage ask but in honor of Seb following Charles, Mick, Lewis and Max on instagram:

It’s cold and rainy after FP2, the breeze dropping the temperature to an unpleasant chill that fights its way through the windbreaker Seb’s got on.

He’s done for the day, desperate to gather his stuff and make his way back to the hotel where he can take a much deserved and wanted hot shower.

He’s speed-walking through the paddock when his eyes land on Max, barely sheltered from the rain as he sits outside the Red-Bull hospitality, legs swinging from where he’s sat chewing on the straw from his flask.

“Good job today.” Sebastian says as he passes, giving the younger a warm smile before brushing a hand through the dirty blonde hair as some sort of praise.

He means to keep walking, but the heat his palm is met with stops him. He frowns, wonders briefly if maybe he’s just cold, but crouches down in front of Max anyway. “Are you hot?”

His question shakes Max from his thoughts, makes him meet Seb’s eyes and blink hazily, but he doesn’t answer.

Seb asks again, pressing the back of his hand to Max’s forehead this time. “You’re burning up.”

Max shakes Seb’s hand off as a defiant pout pauses the chewing on the straw. “Your hand’s cold.” He whines.

“I’m sorry.” Sebastian apologizes, eyeing up Max’s open race suit and lack of jacket that makes his Dad tingles go off when the breeze picks up again as they speak, he refrains from the scolding he wants to give. “Why are you outside?”

“Waiting for Danny.” Max mumbles, looking back around Sebastian to see if the Australian is coming into view yet.

Sebastian isn’t sure if Max says Danny or Daddy, but the way the straw hasn’t left his mouth and the way Max is fumbling with his fingers gives him enough incentive to assume the latter.

“You think you can wait for him inside?” Sebastian asks gently. This weather cannot be good for whatever bug Max is developing, especially with a suspected fever.

“No.” Max whines, curling his fingers into a fist to rub at one of his eyes. “Then he won’t see me.”

“How about we send him a text.” Sebastian proposes, wishing desperately he won’t have to fight the stubborn Dutchman on going inside, because he will. Max still looks skeptical so Sebastian adds. “I’ll wait with you how’s that?”

Max blinks, slowly, turns to look back at the Red Bull hospitality and then back at Sebastian before he gives a tiny nod. Sebastian has to fight back a cheer but allows a “Good boy.”

Max flushes at the praise, allows Seb to help him up and off before walking inside where Sebastian shoots Daniel a quick text before sitting Max down.

It doesn’t take long for Max to nod off once they’re inside, neck bobbing uncomfortably until Sebastian situates the younger to rest his head against his shoulder, once again frowning at the heat he’s met with; an undeniable fever Max is developing.

He’ll have to convince Daniel to get some Tylenol into the boy and hope it goes away overnight so Max’ll be ok to drive tomorrow.

- -

Sebastian hadn’t realized he’d closed his own eyes until a flash forces his eyes open.

“Ah, fuck.” Daniel curses, shooting Sebastian an apologetic smile. “Didn’t realize the flash was on, but I got my cute pic.”

Sebastian smiles, tries to move gently but the flash has caused Max to stir as well and soon enough the younger’s blinking his eyes open, whining at the tightness in his neck.

To his surprise, Max doesn’t lunge for Daniel, but buries his face into Sebastian’s shoulder instead mumbling something about feeling hot.

Sebastian shoots Daniel an apologetic look, rubbing down Max’s back. “Think he’s got a fever.”

Daniel groans, reaching out to feel Max’s head and flinching at the heat. “Shit, alright.” He sighs.

“I’ve got some Tylenol back at the hotel if you need some.” Sebastian offers, immediately met with a loud whine from where Max moves away from his shoulder to glare at him. “Yuck!”

Daniel gives Sebastian a knowing look. “Max and Tylenol are not friends.”

“Not friends.” Max joins in, taking this opportunity to get away from Sebastian and rush to safety into Daniel’s chest, away from a possible Tylenol attack.

“But they’re flavored.” Sebastian tries, and it does get Max to peek back out at him. “Charles likes the cherry one.”

It’s enough to convince Max to try it and now Daniel keeps cherry flavored Tylenol in every travel bag he has.

#littlef1adventures #lf1a.minific

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honeypiehotchner · 3 years

Text

That’s When (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part three of Bye Bye, Baby

Part three has arrived! Guys, this was so much fun to write and this part made me so weepy. Thank y’all so much for reading <3

Loosely based on “That’s When” by Taylor Swift ft. Keith Urban xx

Summary: Juliet wants to meet Aaron, so you set it up. Things go better than you were expecting.

Warnings: angst, happy ending!

Word count: 3.7k this time EYE

Bye Bye, Baby (part one) || Don’t You (part two) || Hotch Masterlist

You said, “I know,” when I said I need some time, need some space/to think about all of this

You pour the coffee Aaron got you down the drain. You took maybe two sips on your way home.

Juliet is still with Dannie, but she’s on her way now to drop her off. And once Jules is asleep, you’ll be filling Dannie in on everything.

Easier said than done, because Juliet all but refuses to fall asleep.

“Munchkin,” you sigh. “You have school tomorrow.”

“M’not tired.”

You give her a look.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?” She asks out of nowhere. “You look sad.”

“I’m okay, baby,” you whisper, even though you nearly start crying. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“French toast for breakfast?”

You chuckle, tapping her nose gently. “French toast. You got it.”

“Love you bunches,” she murmurs, already falling asleep.

You lean over and kiss her forehead. “Love you, munchkin.”

Juliet keeps her eyes closed as you stand and turn off the light, and you don’t doubt that she’s fast asleep by the time you pull her door closed.

Dannie is waiting on the couch, two glasses of wine already poured.

“You know me too well,” you laugh, taking your glass from her. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, it’s your wine,” Dannie grins.

“Right.”

Dannie watches you stare at your wine. Something you never do.

“How’d it go?” She asks. “It looks like it went bad.”

You snort. “Well, it wasn’t great.”

You watched me go/And I knew my words were hard to hear

“Oh boy.” Dannie shifts her body and faces you on the couch, her legs bent underneath her. “Go on.”

“His first question was if she’s his.”

Dannie scrunches her nose in disgust, an expression Jules has picked up from her. “What did you say?”

“That she’s mine, but he is her dad,” you exhale shakily. “I forgot she has his dimples, too.”

Dannie smiles sadly. “Honey…”

“Yeah, it was bad,” you admit. “It was so easy to forget all of that when I was angry and when I was too busy being pregnant,” you joke. “Seeing him just opened that door again.”

You swirl your wine for a second. “He said he wants to meet her. I told him I’d have to ask her first.”

“That’s good,” Dannie nods.

“How do I even bring that up?” You ask, defeated. “And what if she says no?”

“Then she says no,” Dannie shrugs her shoulders. “Then life goes back the way it was.”

You take in a deep breath. “Is it wrong that I kind of want her to say no?”

“I think that’s very motherly of you,” Dannie smiles. “You’ve protected her so well, I hope you know that.”

“I’ve tried.” You take a big sip of wine before your next sentence. “He asked me for a second chance.”

Dannie blinks. “Seriously?”

You nod.

“Did you tell him about the phone calls? He’s ignored you this whole time and now just because he realized he’s a father, he wants a second chance?” Dannie scoffs loudly. “Maybe I want her to say no, too. I hate men.”

You nearly inhale your wine in laughter. “You and me both.”

+++

As it turns out, bringing up Aaron to Juliet is easy. She asks you the next night why you still look sad, and you use it to bring him up.

“I’m not sad, munchkin, I’m just thinking really hard about something.”

Juliet furrows her eyebrows. “What?”

You slide off the couch to sit on the floor next to her where she’s coloring a picture of Elsa. “Remember how I told you that your dad and I don’t talk anymore?”

It was the easiest way to explain Aaron’s absence when Juliet started to ask about it. It was hard to think about because you and Aaron were never married, he didn’t die, and to make matters worse, he had no idea Juliet existed.

She nods, picking up a blue marker. “Yeah, you said adults have to stop talking to each other sometimes.”

“That’s right,” you nod. “Sometimes it’s better for us if we don’t speak. But sometimes, after a while, we can start talking again.”

“Okay.”’

“Well, your dad and I have started talking again,” you pause. “And he said he’d like to meet you. But only if you want to.”

Juliet thinks for a moment, then shrugs, switching to an orange marker. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” You ask, just to be sure. “Where do you want to go?”

“I can pick?”

“Sure can. Wherever you want.”

“Hmm,” she taps her chin for emphasis, and you try hard not to laugh. “What about McDonalds in the park?”

It’s a somewhat tradition of yours to get McDonalds, then go to her favorite park and have a picnic. It’s one of her favorite things to do, so you should’ve known.

“I love that,” you smile. “What about this Saturday?”

“Mhm!” She nods. “Can Dannie come, too?”

“I’ll ask her, but I don’t see why not.”

Juliet is completely satisfied with this answer and goes right back to coloring Elsa.

You chuckle quietly. Kids.

+++

It’s almost noon by the time you get Juliet in the car. And surprisingly, you were the one running behind today. Juliet was ready and sitting on your bed, watching you get dressed before you had even done your hair.

Now, though, you’ve picked up Dannie, and the three of you are headed to McDonalds.

Juliet hasn’t mentioned meeting Aaron once this morning, but she has talked about McDonalds at least four times now.

“How are you holding up?” Dannie asks while Juliet is occupied singing along to ‘Let It Go.’

“Nervous,” you admit quietly. “Thank you for coming.”

“I wouldn’t turn down McDonalds any day,” Dannie scoffs, then turns around to Juliet. “Are you excited?”

Listening to the two of them ramble makes you smile wide, and the drive to the park feels infinitely shorter.

You told Aaron you’d text him when you get there, so he can come over. He said he’d already be there, but for what reason you have no clue.

All you care about is setting out the blanket and getting Juliet to eat her food before she plays with her new Frozen toy.

Truthfully, you’re expecting him to text you and say he called on a case. Not that you blame him because you’ve been there, the BAU is unpredictable like that. But you wouldn’t be surprised.

However, you are surprised when Aaron jogs over.

Yes, jogs.

In shorts, a t-shirt, and sneakers, with sweat clinging to his hair, he jogs over. And you lose all semblance of reality. There’s cotton in your mouth. Good fucking god, he looks good.

“When the hell did you start running?” It's the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and it’s complete word vomit.

Juliet gasps dramatically. “Bad word, Mommy.”

Dannie tries and fails to hold in her laugh.

“You’re right,” you chuckle. “Bad word.”

Aaron, with a smile, answers your question. “The BAU is having a triathlon. I’m training for it.”

“When is it?” You ask without entirely meaning to. You hate how easily you fall right back into conversation with him, how easily he makes you dumbfounded just by his looks.

“In a few weeks, so I’ve got some time,” he breathes. “Mind if I sit?”

You shake your head, scooting over. “Here, I got some nuggets.” You ordered enough for the two of you to share, mostly to save money, but now you’re realizing the implications of it.

You don’t have time to think about that, though, because Juliet has been staring at Aaron for a few moments.

“Munchkin?” You ask. Dannie nudges Juliet’s arm.

“Didn’t you hit us in the grocery store?”

Dannie bursts into laughter then, unable to control it this time, and thankfully, Aaron laughs, too.

“I did,” he nods. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, Aaron,” Juliet says, going right back to her nuggets, sandwiching fries in between two pieces of chicken.

His eyebrows raise and he looks at you.

All you can do is shrug. “She forgets nothing.”

From there, lunch is...uneventful.

Juliet is more focused on playing than she is talking to Aaron, but thankfully, she doesn’t seem upset by him being here.

Dannie asks him a couple questions, mostly standard ones. “What’s the BAU like? I bet the hours suck. You’re unit chief, too, right?”

Aaron answers everything politely, and seems mostly at ease.

After a while, you begin to relax, too.

You have no choice, really, when Juliet feels comfortable to ask questions like, “Are you really my dad? Why weren’t you talking to my mommy?”

Aaron handles the questions like a pro. “I am. Your mom and I needed some time to ourselves, so that’s why we weren’t talking.”

“Adults are weird,” she says, but she seems satisfied with his answers and even hands him her Olaf toy. “I’m gonna go swing.”

Aaron chuckles and sets Olaf in the shade of his leg. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t melt.”

Juliet tilts her head. “He’s a toy, he won’t melt.”

This time you’re the one incapable of holding in your laughter.

“Dannie, come on!” Juliet yells out, giggling when Dannie nearly trips over her feet to stand up.

As they run off, you start picking up Juliet’s trash and stuffing it back in the bag.

“Here, I’ll run it over to the trash can.”

You turn your head to Aaron with a smirk. “You’ll run it over there? Promise?”

He gives you a look.

He doesn’t actually take it over to the trash can because he goes completely still, then says, “She has my eyes.”

You take a deep breath. “Yeah. She does. Your dimples, too.”

He smiles. “Thank god she got your nose, though.”

“What?” You whip your head around. “She has your nose.”

“She does not,” he argues. “And as I said, thank god.”

“Oh, shut up, I love your nose.”

His smile is never-ending. “Really?”

You move on from it quickly. “Thanks for meeting us today.”

“Thank you for letting me.”

You nod slowly, deciding to blurt out what’s been eating at you. “You know, if— If you’re doing this just to get a second chance with me, please don’t.”

“I’m not.”

“Because I don’t need that kind of stress, and Juliet doesn’t either—”

I said, “I know,” when you said I did you wrong/made mistakes, and put you through all of this

“Y/N,” Aaron’s hand rests gently on your arm, getting your attention. He lifts it when you stop talking. “I’m not. I’m doing this because I want to be a part of her life, as her dad. I wasn’t there for her, or you, and I’m sorry. I just want to make it right. Let me make it up to you — to her.”

You stare at him closely, watching. “You mean that?”

He nods. “I do. And I’m so sorry my actions in the past made you think differently of me.”

“I just don’t want her to get hurt,” you murmur. “She’s my baby.”

“I know,” Aaron says. “I know.”

+++

Co-parenting with Aaron is surprisingly easy. Or maybe he makes it easy.

Every Saturday, you and Juliet meet him in the park for a picnic lunch after he’s done training for the triathlon. Sometimes you get there early — which happens nearly every week as Juliet becomes more eager to see him — and you get to cheer Aaron on as he finishes his run.

Dannie comes sometimes, but the few times that she hasn’t have been just as pleasant.

Aaron keeps his word. He does this to spend time with Juliet as her dad, and he doesn’t make any advances on you. The two of you don’t even hug at the end of the afternoon, but Juliet has taken to running and jumping in his arms.

She’s growing more and more attached to him every week, and you hate the dread that you feel. So far, you’ve been lucky. Aaron’s cases have been during the week, so he hasn’t missed a single Saturday — yet.

It’s one of the reasons you are grateful for your transfer at the time four years ago. If you had been in as unpredictable of a job as the BAU when you were pregnant, or when Juliet was born, you have no idea how you would’ve done it. Your job now is a perfect 8 to 5, sometimes 6, but that’s only been a handful of times in the past four years.

Juliet is used to you being there every day. And now, she’s getting used to seeing Aaron every week. You’re just bracing yourself for the time when he has a case and won’t be able to make it.

You try not to think that far ahead, but you can’t help yourself. You were once an agent under him. You know just how crazy the BAU can get. You know exactly what to expect when it gets busy.

Which is why you don’t understand the feelings that are growing inside of you.

You told him he wasn’t getting a second chance — at least not right now. Because you don’t have it in you, and you don’t want to do that to Juliet if it doesn’t work out.

But that was before things started working out.

And you said, “When can I come back?”

Before he never missed a single Saturday. Before he insisted on a birthday dinner when he realized her birthday was a few months ago. Before she started running into his arms. Before he started lifting her up and spinning her around, listening to her giggles as she squealed, “Mommy! I’m flying!” Before she fell asleep on the blanket in the park, and he moved over to shield her from the sun, all while still talking to you.

Now, you don’t know what to do. It sounds awful, but you didn’t expect him to prove himself this well.

You’ve always loved him. That is easy enough to recognize and admit. But you never imagined feeling this way again.

“Mommy?” Juliet pushes your bedroom door open a little.

You sit up, patting your bed. “Good morning, munchkin. C’mere.”

She climbs into bed and right to your side, and you spread the blanket over her, letting her snuggle into your side.

After a moment, you think she’s asleep, but then she whispers, “Are you and dad going to stop talking again?”

You freeze. Up until now, Juliet has called him “Aaron.” Obviously, she knows Aaron is her dad, but she’s never called him that.

“Why do you ask that, baby?” You murmur, kissing the top of her head.

“I don’t want you guys to stop talking again. I like hanging out with him.” She buries her head further into your chest. “He makes me laugh.”

Tears fill your eyes. “He makes me laugh, too.”

“I know,” she smiles into your shirt. “He looks at you a lot.”

“What?”

“When you’re not looking,” she whispers, half-asleep again. “He smiles a lot. He has dimples like me.”

“He does,” you smile softly, wiping your tears away.

+++

The day of the triathlon, Juliet is more than eager to get to the park to cheer Aaron on.

You, on the other hand, feel like you could throw up from the thought of it.

Aaron told you the rest of the team will be there, and you’re grateful for the heads up, but you’re also nervous as shit. You haven’t seen them since your send off party. You haven’t texted with Penelope and Derek in...probably two years now.

He said he didn’t tell the team you’re coming because he didn’t want you to feel pressured, but he also warned you that the team has been questioning him nonstop if he’s seeing someone. He said he’s told them that he isn’t, but of course, they think he’s lying.

Dannie comes with to the triathlon, mainly because Juliet asked her to. It’s been a few days since Juliet has seen Dannie because she was out of town for work, but now she’s back, so Juliet wants her around all the time again.

You’re grateful for Dannie’s presence once again to calm your nerves and offer distractions at every second.

Surprisingly, you don’t see the team anywhere when you arrive, so you, Juliet, and Dannie set up your chairs and blanket peacefully. It’s a while before Aaron will be over here for the run, the last part of the triathlon, so Juliet breaks out her coloring book at your and Dannie’s feet.

You and Dannie spend the wait while idly talking, and after about an hour, the first cheers begin echoing out.

Juliet perks up with the noise. “Is that dad?”

Dannie’s eyes snap to yours and she mouths, “Did she?”

You nod, smiling stupidly. It brings you way more joy to hear Juliet freely call Aaron her dad. Way more joy than you thought.

“Maybe,” you stand up and reach for Juliet’s hand. “Let’s go see.”

Juliet grabs your hand and starts tugging you toward the front, and Dannie follows with a laugh, watching you get drug away by a four-year-old.

A few runners are passing by, but none of them are Aaron. Juliet is watching impatiently, and squeals when Dannie lifts her up onto her shoulders.

“Can you see now, munchkin?” You ask, your hand resting gently on her back, even though Dannie is holding onto her ankles.

Juliet nods. “I see him!”

You look down the way, and you see him, too.

Your lips split into a grin almost immediately. His black shorts, black t-shirt, with his number pinned to the front. His hair is slick with sweat, and yet, you still have a burning desire to run your fingers through it.

Aaron moves to the side, running right next to you, giving Juliet a high five on his way by, and you, too, only when his fingers graze yours, he squeezes.

As soon as he crosses the finish line, Juliet is scrambling out of Dannie’s arms, and when she hits the ground, she runs.

You’re running after her, Dannie too, calling her name, because she really shouldn’t run off like that.

But your nerves calm down the second you see Juliet jumping into her dad’s arms.

Slowing to a walk, you shake your head with a smile as Aaron spins her around, squeezing her tightly.

“Hey,” he says when he sees you. “I’m glad you guys could make it.”

“Me too,” you smile. “She wouldn’t let me miss it,” you nod toward Juliet.

“You’re smelly,” Juliet says out of nowhere, pinching her nose.

Dannie laughs loudly at her comment as Aaron sets her down. But despite her comment, she doesn’t move from next to him.

“Is that who I think it is?” Derek Morgan’s voice floats through your ears.

You turn around to face him, putting your hands on your hips. “Depends, who do you think it is?”

Derek grins wide. “Come here, you.”

You hug him tightly, and over his shoulder you see everyone else, all with shocked looks on their faces. JJ, Emily, Penelope, Spencer, and Rossi, too.

After giving out hugs all around, you look back to see Juliet still clinging to Aaron’s leg.

“Who is this?” Morgan asks quietly, kneeling down to Juliet’s level. “Hey there.”

She eyes him skeptically. “Hi.”

“Munchkin, this is Derek. He’s a friend, too.”

Derek waves.

“Do you like Frozen?” Juliet asks.

Derek nods seriously. “I love it.”

“Hmph,” she wraps her arm tighter around Aaron’s leg. The sight makes you want to crumble. She looks up at Aaron, and says, “Dad?” To get his attention.

Everyone stills. Even Derek.

“Yes, honey?” Aaron replies, kneeling down, too.

“Are they your friends, too?”

He nods. “We’re all really good friends.”

She shrugs. “Okay.” She looks around at everyone, and gasps when she sees Penelope. “I like your bracelet!”

Penelope looks down at it with a smile. “You wanna try it on?”

Juliet practically sprints toward Penelope with a dramatic nod.

While the two of them are playing with Pen’s jewelry, everyone else is looking at you and Hotch with blatantly shocked expressions.

“We’ll explain later,” you offer. “But the answer is yes.”

Rossi, bless him, breaks the awkward, silent tension. “Is anyone else starving?”

You laugh some nerves away. “Yeah, I am. We just need to go pack up our stuff.”

“I can help,” Aaron says.

“Okay, yeah,” you nod, glancing over at Juliet, but her, Penelope, JJ, and Emily are now sitting in the grass, talking animatedly about Frozen.

“I’ll stay over here,” Dannie says, nudging your arm.

“Thank you,” you murmur, trying to hide your dumb smile at the thought of being alone with Aaron, even if for only a few seconds.

Regardless, you try to keep your cool when you turn back to him. “We’re just over here.”

“Lead the way,” he gestures ahead.

You ignore all efforts to hide your smile now as you start walking. He falls into step beside you, his sweaty shoulder brushing yours, but you don’t mind.

And against all of your better judgement, you slide your hand into his.

His surprised look is priceless, and you can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes you. “What? Am I not allowed to make the first move?”

You don’t know if the red on his cheeks is from running or blushing. “No, no, you’re allowed.”

“Good,” you murmur, walking a little closer. Your things are far too close for your liking. You want to walk with him like this for longer.

When you stop next to your chairs, you don’t let go of his hand. He doesn’t let go, either.

“Can I ask something?” He says, squeezing your hand.

“Sure.”

He steps closer, his toes nearly touching yours. “If you make the first move, am I allowed to make the second?”

You can’t help the violent swarm of butterflies in your stomach. “I think that’s how that works.” You pause, tilting your head, gesturing to how close your feet are. “Was that your move?”

He shakes his head. “No. This is.”

That’s when, when I saw your face/You let me in, and baby, that’s when

Aaron’s free hand holds your jaw as he kisses you in the same tender, gentle way that he used to, only this one has four years’ worth of apologies in every touch. You let go of his hand to smooth your hands on his chest, his neck, any place you can touch because it’s been too long. Way too long.

That’s when I want you/That’s when I love you/That’s when

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