#congrats you idiot you can feel the wrist weakness
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about to blow that madara-tobi freak out of the water 🧨
📃🏙️📄
as is becoming a habit, more details under cut :)
take a look at this bustling city we can be proud to call our own! in the embrace of waters deep six hundred billion seeds i have sown (all ready to bloom. aren't they pretty?) now comes a time for you to reap (every piece is a piece of me)
the paper collage part was made from a single newspaper in a fit of inspiration
the vaguely heart-like shape in the middle was a pain to make natural while keeping the wings as i wanted them.
i wanted to include a faint rainbow, or rather several color-tinted arches of exploding tags in the reflection. it didn't want to work with the composition.
most of the papers in her wings aren't distorted by the water. wonder what that means
deep dark... deep dark... alluring light at the very bottom...
now to the poem:
amegakure is suspiciously modern. best place to live! except for the war and rain and heavy industry and vaguely threatening leader with a god complex.
if this was the closing verse of something longer, the opening verse would be this: we were made out of stainless steel where others were left out to corrode only the strongest welcome the rain over a pit stop on war road
kishimoto has no idea how numbers work. i usually play with the timeline & ages to get something that makes sense at the moment (even thinking about team minato ages hurts). however 600,000,000,000 is an insane number i'm keeping.
(can't find the original post that first mentioned this but i've already incorporated it into my konan lore:) konan has a plan to take down any member of the akatsuki. very batman-like of her. except every plan involves an incredible number of exploding tags. "konan is the only sane one in the akatsuki"? she is sitting in their meetings while silently making exploding tags somewhere else. every time she lays her eyes on hidan or deidara or madara-tobi she ups the rate of production. i'm scared of big numbers because they overflow on accident or you have to think about what special type to give them & when you mess up an algorithm complexity they want to compute way over the heat death of several universes... (amateur c programmer with math background spotted) (btw in c it's long long int, 64 bits)
konan & flowers! i mean it's literally part of her design so why not indulge when she has created a literal minefield (except the whole field is made of bombs)
madara-tobi goes boom! poor obito finds field imagery around him (hatake, nohara). seems to be a normal japanese thing, but psst, let me enjoy this. mr fan-the-flame is drowned in fire
every piece is a piece of her. first of all, literally. don't tell me she sat down (cloned of course) and did calligraphy on regular paper by hand, and/or ruined the whole economy just for this. talk about putting your heart into something... second, she uses paper butterflies for spying. as in, she turns into hundreds or thousands of pieces (ch371; jiraiya assumes he's arriving in ame suuuper stealthily), all of them presumably directed by one consciousness. solid clones have copies of the original mind, and shadow clones can return memories only when they dispell. i can't imagine all the butterflies with a mind of their own and konan casually integrating such a number when she reforms. if that is the case, she is truly on another level. sidenote: nagato's paths of pain share line of vision. he's literally operating 6+1 bodies at once. you know what? i bow to that. let him enjoy his godhood!
in conclusion: she had the audacity & the 600,000,000,000 plan almost worked! my top 3 female character in naruto
#naruto#naruto fanart#konan#konan naruto#amegakure#akatsuki#paper collage#poetry#solid konan#it may look like she is taking off layers but it's All Her#oh damn. butterflies. hollow rin. it's all coming together...#digital art#traditional art#mixed media#congrats you idiot you can feel the wrist weakness#hope the art concept that has haunted you for two weeks was worth it
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Hi Star! Huge congratulations on your 2k milestone - it is so well deserved!!
Could I possibly get "Let's Hear it for the Boy" with our beloved ginger general?
Thank you so much and congrats again!!
Drunk / In Love
Track 3: Let's Hear It for the Boy by Deniece Williams - Give me a character and I'll write a short blurb or headcanons on how they would want you to show them that you love them.
General Hux x F! Reader / 📼 ✨ mixtape milestone ✨ 📼
Thanks for the request, my love! Sorry it took me so long!
The idiots from these two stories are back again. Sorry I'm obsessed with them (I'm not sorry at all). Warnings for some minor sexual content and weird consent issues!
Phasma said you were drunk.
What she failed to mention was how—how drunk you were, or how you ended up that way. It was only supposed to be a friendly dinner when Hux first suggested it (and didn't stop suggesting it until Phasma finally gave in).
He thought if you made connections here—even just one—that it might make you more comfortable being with him on this ship, and so far from anything familiar.
Although this might be too familiar.
He reaches the door to Phasma's quarters and they glide open automatically, programmed to recognize his approach. He sees Phasma seated at the table, out of uniform, a smirk playing on her wine-stained mouth.
Armitage is not prepared for the dark flash in his peripherals, or the arms around his neck.
Your embrace frightens him, and that alone is enough to leave him feeling hot, stomach swimming, even when he recognizes your touch on instinct. It has him weak at the knees, just this, has his heart in his throat as all the alarm and panic well up inside him, threatening to spill out.
Then your lips meet his.
There's been a handful of almost-affectionate moments shared between you. The brush of your hand as you wished him goodbye one morning. A kiss on the cheek that missed its target, landing at the edge of his lips.
But nothing like this.
Hux can feel your mouth shift against his, lips turning up at the corners, and the little laugh that passes through them—maybe at the way his hands hang limply at his sides, or the crop of perspiration blooming at his collar from the warmth of your skin, the smell of you. He can't make himself kiss you back, although he wants to.
He really, really wants to.
There's no malice in your eyes when you pull away—Armitage doesn't think you're capable of malice. You smile at him sweetly, taking his hands in both of yours.
"I missed you," you tell him, each word bleeding into the next, eyes half-lidded and hazy from whatever you'd been drinking, "did you miss me?"
"I- uh, yes," he answers—unavoidably honest—his eyes flitting towards Phasma, who's so pleased with herself it practically drips from her, hanging heavier on her shoulders than the armour she usually wears.
A hot anger floods through his stomach, spiked with acrid shame. He doesn’t need any witnesses to his inept attempts at marriage.
Your smile widens, every facet of you bursting with delight knowing that he’s missed you in the hours since you last spoke his name, and then he’s back in your embrace, the sound of sweet laughter in his ear.
He reaches out for something to brace himself on, and finds nothing. It takes everything in him to keep standing.
Armitage peels your arms from around his neck, putting a desperate inch of distance between himself and the press of your body.
"Why don't we let the captain get some rest?" he asks.
Your enthusiasm at the suggestion turns his stomach into knots.
He's able to usher you through the empty halls at a speed just short of a jog, one hand at your waist to keep you from stumbling, and the other wrapped firmly around your wrist to stop any further attempts at touching him.
And, though he can’t puzzle it out just yet—with the warmth of you still against him—he knows something is wrong with you. Something that wine alone could not bring on.
Armitage knows you don’t want him. Not like this.
Yet you practically drag him through the doors of your quarters, mouth planted against his before the mechanical lock whirs into place.
All the desire in him makes him sick—feverish and weak. His body shudders against yours, nerves trying to break through skin at the gentleness of your touch.
“Armitage,” you whine, pouty in a way he’s never heard before—always so polite and obliging when you’re sober, “kiss me back.”
He couldn’t refuse you, even if he wanted to, even though he knows it would be better for both of you—knows the way this memory will torture him endlessly, until the moment he dies. Maybe long after that.
But still, he cups your face in shaking hands, and presses his uncertain lips to yours.
And it’s nothing like all the times he’s thought about this—about taking you, feeling the warmth of your breath mingling with his own, pulling you tight against him with his arm at your waist and kissing, kissing, kissing you, until he tires of the feeling, until he rids himself of all his hideous need to be loved and to be wanted.
It’s nothing like he imagined because he’s terrified. Because he can’t manage to move the ways he wants to, tripping over his feet when you stumble deeper into his chambers. Because his stomach roils at the feel of your tongue against his stubbornly closed mouth, and his arms shake with the need to move, but his hands stay where he placed them, holding hard enough to bruise, pulling you closer with enough force that part of him wonders if he’s hurting you.
And still, your mouth on his, your wandering, eager hands.
The room spins; Armitage’s reason leaves him when his feet lift from the floor, your body underneath him, and below that the cushion of his bed molding you together.
Still kissing. Still you. Your hand, guiding his down the thrumming pulse of your neck, lower. Lower.
Armitage is on the other side of the bed before the thought of how wrong what he has done truly registers, his feet planted and one hand pushing back the fallen strands of his hair.
“Armitage?”
He curses the day you learned his name, curses the ill, vile part of him that wants to go back.
He clears his throat and finds it doesn’t steady him at all.
“You- you should get some rest, I think.”
Your movements are clumsy as you crawl to him on your knees, fighting against the thick bedspread and the fabric of your skirt. There’s a little huff on your lips when you reach him, eyes big and wide and brimming with glistening tears.
“Why don’t you want me?” you whisper, and tears well up to their breaking point, slipping down your cheeks.
Fuck. He wants to touch you, and knows it’s a terrible idea, palms aching beneath the leather he wears and hates—now more than ever when it keeps him from you. His hand reaches out against his will, hovering just out of reach of your skin and the tears he can’t manage to wipe away because, once again, he is the cause of all your suffering.
“You’re- you’re drunk, darling. You’ll feel better if you just-”
“No,” you tell him, pushing his hand away with your own, “why don’t you want me ever?”
Oh, gods. Armitage recoils like you’ve slapped him, the sting of those words and what they mean destroying everything—every moment he’s agonized over since he first saw you and knew you had to be his.
“You . . . you can’t possibly believe that.”
You nod your head, fists curled at your sides petulantly, and your stubbornness would make him laugh, if it weren’t so sad.
“I do,” he whispers, then swallows, reaching for your hand. You let him take it. It gives him something to look at, watching your elegant fingers intertwine with his. “I do, but I—”
How much of this will you remember? Even now, the idea of revealing this soft, vulnerable part of him strikes fear into his very core, has him wishing he could run, wishing he could escape the way your eyes flay him wide open.
Your hand against his chest, he can feel his own heartbeat meet the shapes of your fingertips, molding to you. Armitage meets your gaze, and as frightening as it is, there’s no part of him that could deny how deeply he craves it.
“Please forgive me,” he stutters, and there aren't words for him to explain everything he needs to, just the truth. “I am—oh, gods—I am a ruinous man.”
He watches you, the muscles working in your jaw, the way your brows pull together, examining him, weighing the assessment of himself that he’s offered to you.
“No,” you tell him, “no you’re not.”
He thinks you might kiss him again, as close as you are. Close enough for him to count each of your lashes, map the constellations you’ve hidden in your eyes.
You drop to the mattress instead, and the look you give him has him holding back a laugh, the mix of stubbornness and grudging deference that has Armitage wondering how hard it’s been for you to play at obedience in your union.
“You should change,” he tells you, just resting on the edge of the bed, “you’ll be more comfortable.”
It’s easier to talk to you when you’re like this. It has Armitage feeling like he’s the one intoxicated, and he is, in a way. Because what if this is your most honest self?
He didn’t think you could make him love you any deeper, but you’ve managed.
“Don’t care,” you mumble into the pillows, trying to brush him away with a waving hand. He takes it in his own.
“You’ll ruin your dress.”
There’s a look of intense focus on your face, and he wonders if you’ll refuse again. Maybe you don’t care about the dress either, although Armitage would be disappointed. It’s one of his favorites from your incredibly extensive wardrobe—a beautiful black and cream confection that always catches his eye.
But you shift instead, turning to look up at him. “Kiss me.”
Stars, not again. Not now, when the weakest parts of him are so palpable. “I- I don’t-”
You flop into a sitting position, hold a single finger up between your faces.
“One kiss,” you concede, “okay?”
He nods, despite himself. You wait patiently for his approach, still and hardly breathing through your parted lips as he slides closer. Armitage keeps his eyes open, and so do you, heavy as they are, watching the distance between your faces fade into nothing.
It’s not like the other times he’s kissed you, although all but one had happened only a few moments ago. You let him set the pace, his lips just barely brushing your own, a sigh bubbling up from deep inside his lungs. He can only offer a little more pressure before he’s lightheaded again, little bursts of light dancing across his vision.
He pulls back from what could hardly be called a kiss, and waits for your disappointment, for your insistence that he try again, that there must be something more, or better, that he’s kept from you.
Armitage doesn’t want you to know that there’s nothing else to hope for.
You don’t say a word about it though. Just flop your arms out in front of you, waiting, satisfied in your demands.
“Help me.”
And it passes like that, with more bribes in the form of barely-there presses of his lips to yours—a kiss for you to raise your arms as he slips something soft and oversized over your head, a kiss for you to clumsily remove the dress from underneath. A kiss to get you to leave him for a moment while he changed into his own night clothes after you’d begged and begged for him to spend the night beside you, and a kiss upon his return.
It feels like a lifetime of kisses to Armitage. He doesn’t know what that number would be for anyone else, but you’ve certainly exceeded it for him. He could die in his sleep tonight and have more than he ever deserved.
And now you’re curled up beside him a hand at his waist, your head on his chest. Armitage breathes, but only barely, hoping he won’t wake you.
The tension drains from him, his body the closest it’s been to relaxed in ages. He wonders if he should ask Phasma to invite you to dinner again.
He hopes the next time he kisses you, you'll be sober enough to remember it.
#armitage hux#armitage hux x reader#armitage hux x you#general hux x reader#general hux x you#my writing#starlightsearches mixtape milestone 📼
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congrats!!! ur writing is so cool hdhshshd
if its still can i request akutagawa with prompt 16?
Thank you 💙💙 I’m an anime only but I heard a little bit about his past and it makes me sad 😞 he just needs love and a good support system also he’s a little soft in this but pretty much the same Akutagawa 🥺 (here’s the same prompt with Fyodor!) reader is gender neutral!
SN: so if you see 2 different versions of this (1 with the bonus and one without) I couldn’t make up my mind if I should keep it or not, sorry about that 😭😭
TW: blood, minor cursing, small spoiler for Season 2/Dark Era (tbh idk if it’s really a spoiler but just to be on the safe side I’ll put it BUT don’t worry no name is mentioned)
Prompt: “Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.” with Akutagawa!
It was suppose to be a simple mission: get the information, and kill anyone that gets in the way. The people you two were going after aren’t even a serious threat, or atleast they weren’t suppose to be.
So why were you bleeding out on the ground?
Akutagawa wasn’t gone for long, and he merely left to get what you both came for. He wasn’t expecting you to be laid out on the ground, barely clinging onto life.
Pissed is an understatement.
And the gnawing feeling of fear in his stomach that’s growing isn’t helping either.
-
You’re starting to feel so cold.
And from what you could see (besides the black spots blurring your vision), someone is carrying you. You hear them cursing underneath their breath, and it looks like they’re running, if you can tell by how fast your surroundings are moving.
“You idiot!”
Akutagawa’s carrying you? Did he complete the mission already?
“Akutagawa, you have to-“
“Shut up.”
“But the mission-“
“I already completed it since you’re so incompetent!”
“Thanks for saving me-“, you coughed up something wet, and you think you got some on his coat and even his jabot. “You didn’t have to come back for me.”
“Of course I did. You deserve some type of punishment for your failure.”
Even when you’re dying, you could tell that he had no real bite to his words.
You could feel your eyes closing. You’re just so exhausted, and being in his arms is so comfortable. He won’t mind if you just rest before you get back-
“Don’t you dare die on me!”
“Sorry Akutagawa”, the voices were starting to sound muffled, like your head is underwater.
“Thank you...for everything-“
You could hear someone- no, him- frantically yelling out your name.
You plan to apologize when you wake up.
If you wake up.
-
You feel like you got hit by a bus and a train at the same time.
You basically feel like shit, and your head feels too heavy to move. Now that your surroundings are starting to come into focus, you recognize that you’re in one of the recovery rooms. You see that you have an IV in your arm, bandages wrapped right above it. You can’t remember everything that’s happened, you just remember being with Akutagawa, you think it was for a mission-
Then it comes back to you.
The mission, an enemy ambushing you, getting stabbed through the stomach with their ability, blood gushing out, and tossed onto the ground, staring up in the sky, wondering if you’re really going to die without atleast saying goodbye to-
“AKUTAGAWA!”
“I’m right here.”
You jolted up, hissing at the pain, staring at Akutagawa who was standing in the doorway, closing the door to give you two privacy.
As he walked closer to you, you didn’t miss the blood stained on him or the tense look painting his face, but you did miss the way his fists balled up. You’re just beyond grateful that he’s alive, that he’s not the one in the hospital bed. You rather it be you in this position than him-
He jerked you up by the front of your gown.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done? And don’t start with your pitiful excuses either! You always think that you know the best solution, that you always have the right answer for everything and you don’t. You’re weak enough to accept death so easily, ready to give up without even fighting back. How pathetic”, his eyes were blown wide, growling out the words.
“Ak-Akutagawa, I-I’m sorry I didn’t mea-“
“BE QUIET!”
You didn’t notice how much you’re blubbering, your words jumbling over one another until you froze as his shout echoed in the room. A long pause settled across the room, the only sounds being heard is his panting. You felt a pang of guilt and shame because he’s right. Were you really accepting death that easy? Were you really that weak to just give up hope like that? Akutagawa wouldn’t have given up like you did, you know that for sure, so why did you?
You are weak.
He slowly released you, but didn’t back away.
You didn’t realize you were crying until you saw the drops on his hand. You tried to control your tears, to wipe them away, but he just held your wrist to stop you.
The look he gave you wasn’t even of disappointment, it was a look of understanding.
The thought that you were at Death’s door, on the edge of losing him forever, it was finally starting to hit you. And the fact that it was Akutagawa who’s trying to comfort you and shared that same fear of losing someone that he’s actually fond of, showed that he was more sincere than what he let on to begin with.
He knows that you’re not weak, but he felt panic bubbling to the surface seeing you on the ground, laying terrifying still. Your blood seeping on the ground, your slurred apologies, the dread he felt as you closed your eyes for what could have been the final time.
Akutagawa has seen and experience many traumatizing situations, and he hopes to never have to experience something like this ever again.
You lurched forward, straight into his chest before you could process what you were doing. It felt like instinct, and as you sobbed into his chest, you felt him tense underneath your grip. He barely relaxed after it registered what he was doing, but you felt his hand place itself on top of your head as he tried to register this feeling.
“Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”
If anything his words made you bawl harder.
You would have never thought that the Akutagawa would ever be doing this to you, let alone anyone else. But you embraced this as much as you could. Being vulnerable and working in the Port Mafia don’t go hand in hand, so letting your walls down with someone so close to you are rare and you aren’t going to waste a precious moment like this.
Behind the heated glares, brutal honesty, and snarky comments, Akutagawa is someone that you look up to (minus the rather violent outbursts when it comes to the weretiger). He paved a way in this world, despite being dealt a horrible upbringing. He’s more than a strong person, he’s more than enough, even if he doesn’t fully believe that himself if it’s not in the eyes of his old mentor.
He’s more than enough for you.
Bonus
“Don’t let this happens again. If it does, I plan on killing you myself.”
“U-um yes of course!”
“And if you so much as utter a word of this-“
“D-Don’t worry I won’t!”
Well sweet moment over. Akutagawa’s intimidating again.
“The fact that you think that this was acceptable”, he scoffed. “This world is not made for the weak. Only the strong survive, and the weak perish. Stay by my side, or die with the weak, and I refuse to let you die.”
He stared at you, fierce determination in his gaze. “Expect training to begin once you get cleared. I won’t tolerate anymore failures. Don’t disappoint me.”
So this is way of showing concern. You’re not upset, far from it actually. You know that it’s hard for him to open up, so you appreciated the effort. You accepted the effort. You both didn’t want a repeat of this situation, and you’ll make sure that stays true.
“I won’t let you down Akutagawa!”
And he knows that you won’t. He’s by your side after all, and you’re not as weak as you think.
#bsd akutagawa#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs reader insert#bungou stray dogs x reader#akutagawa x reader#bsd Akutagawa x reader#dream’s 100 + 200 followers prompt special 💙
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Fanfic Friday #1
Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I will post a new fanfic here and on A03. Enjoy x
Read/Save it on A03 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/31733458
{training dates}
Ship: olivarry
Status: dating
Warnings: none :)
WC: 1,646
Barry’s POV
It sort of all started when I got my powers. And I ran to Oliver.
“I’ve spent my whole life searching for the impossible, never imagining that I would become the impossible.”
“So why come to me? Something tells me you didn’t just run 600 miles to say hi to a friend.” “All my life I’ve wanted to do, more. Be more. And now I am. And the first chance I get to help someone, I screw up. What if Wells is right? What if I’m not a hero? What if I am just some guy who got stuck by lighting?”
“I don’t think that bolt of lighting struck you Barry,” Oliver paused, “I think it chose you.”
“I’m just not sure I’m like you, Oliver. I don’t know if I can be some, vigilante,” I whispered, looking down.
“You can be better. You can inspire people. In a way I never could. Watching over your city like a guardian angel, making a difference. Saving people,” he smirked, “In a flash.” He walked to the edge of the building, “Take your own advice, wear a mask.” Oliver then got out his bow to zipline off the rooftop.
“Oliver, wait,” I called, thinking.
“Yeah, Barry?” he said, turning around.
“I-i can’t fight. I can’t be strong. And tough.”
“Yes, you can. Meet me at my club, Verdant, in a week. Same time.”
“Your club?”
“Yes, my club.”
And then he did his robin hood and swung away.
A lot happens in a week. Take down metas, learn to swirl my arms to make wind, realize I have a bit of a crush on Oliver Queen. Please ignore the last one.
I arrived at his club the following week at midday. During that time, I recalled that his secret lair was in the sublevel of his club.
“Hello Barry,” he greeted.
“Hi. So, um-”
“Come at me. I’m going to hit you with an arrow.” “Sure you are,” I smirked.
“Go, go.” I sped off 100 or so meters, and then ran straight at him. He fired an arrow, and it slowly made its way towards me. With a cheeky smile, I grabbed it and stopped.
“Nice try Ollie, to-OCHHCHHC. Fuck-what?”
“Awareness of your surroundings,” Oliver said, pulling the arrows out of my back.
“Ow ow it hurts.” “That was lesson one. The battlefield is just that, it’s a field. It’s not one person in one place, it's a network of people all trying to kill,” he places a finger on my chest, “You.”
I was still in pain, and not too fond of him.
“You know there are less painful ways to teach that lesson?” “You showed up, you knew what you were getting yourself into,” he stated blatantly. “Well-no. No. I didn’t really want an arrow in my back.” “Would you prefer to train on a deserted Island on the coast of the China Sea?” he said jokingly.
“No. Fine.”
He led me down to his base.
“Come ‘ere,” he said, pointing to where a punching bag was set up.
“This place gets cooler every time,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Punch,” he instructed. I started speed punching the bag, and it almost immediately broke.
“Well I’d say that was pretty good,” I said, smiling.
“Horrible. No control.” “What? I broke the bag.” “Don’t speed punch. Punch normally,” he said, replacing the bag.
I started punching as hard as I could.
“Untuck your thumb,” he commented, “You’re going to break it.”
I kept punching, taking his feedback and applying it.
“Wrist straight,” he said, taking my wrist into his hand and holding it steady.
Almost 45 minutes later, I was exhausted.
“My arms, I, I can’t feel them.” “Good, now fight me.” “Excuse me?” “Sparring, let's go. No fucking speedy shit, alright?” “Ollie, I don’t think I physically can.” “Oh yes you can.” He took my arm and dragged me onto the mat. I threw some weak punches at him, not moving. He was not holding back.
“Oliver, are you just going to continue to BEAT me up?” “When you start trying, I will stop punching.” I gritted my teeth and started throwing more meaningful punches.
“Good, come on, keep your feet right.”
I threw another punch.
“Don’t lean back, move forward.” After another 15 minutes of sparring, he called it.
“Done.”
“Is that all?” I joked.
“I mean we can do more,” he teased back.
“Nah I’m good. I feel like I should get a certificate, like, ‘congrats you completed your first Oliver Queen superhero training session.’”
“Idiot,” he smirked.
“Thanks.” “Right, I should get back to my city. Same time next week?”
“Yes.”
I reached out to hug him.
“I’m not really a hugger, Barry.” “Well, technically I could just speed and hug you, so you might as well just…”
He smiled, and we briefly hugged.
“Thanks Ollie.”
“See ya.”
Most sessions were similar to that. Well, not similar but the same vibe. He had me slap water for two hours once. He made me lift sand another time. Anyway, the training was hard and weird, but it seemed to be working. However, they started to shift. We were mainly sparring after three months, him giving me tips.
“Good sessions,” he said, chucking me a bottle of water.
“Thanks,” I huffed, collapsing into a chair.
He walked over to his salmon ladder, and he pulled his shirt off. Update, the crush got much worse which could, really, only be expected.
He started to go upwards, and I did definitely stare. Him jumping down caught my attention.
“You wanna get some food?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure, yeah. Where?”
Where ended up being big belly burger, and, as the flash, I ate a shedload.
“That. Is. Disgusting,” Ollie said, smiling endearingly.
“You do you.”
“So, how’s everything in Central?”
“Yeah, it’s metahuman and that.”
“Right, descriptive.” We both chuckled.
“How’s everyone here?”
“Oh we’re hanging on as usual.” “Mine wasn’t descriptive enough,” I said, sarcastically.
“What, you want me to give a rundown of every person in my life?”
No, I want to know if you and Felicity still have this weird “in love” thing going on. “You know what, sure,” I smirked. “You are a child, Barry Allen.”
I just laughed.
We stayed a while just chatting, long after we’d finished eating. We were both red from laughter. and he was smiling brighter than I’d ever seen him.
It became a tradition of sorts. Train and go get food. He’d take me to all his favorite spots, we’d eat, and stay for hours just talking.
One day we were sparring, and I’d somehow ended up under him. He slowly leaned in, and I gave him a little nodd. The kiss lasted far too little time for my liking.
I was smirking at him, “Does someone have a little crush?”
“Shut up, I see how you look at me shirtless.” “Fair. You look very hot shirtless,” I said, “Your heart is beating fast.’ “So is yours.” He leaned in again, and this kiss lasted longer. “You wanna go for dinner?” “As in a date?” I inquired.
“As in dinner, you know. Maybe. People eat dinner.” “We’ve been dating for months now, neither of us cared to admit it,” I joked, walking towards a chair.
“No,” he said, thinking.
I shoot him a “really” look.
“Aright so yes, we have. Do you wanna get dinner?”
“Yes, Ollie, I want to get dinner.”
So from there we basically just dated. Woah revolutionary I know. Training sessions became covers for dates. Sleeping at his became a late night’s work. In the chaos of everything, we found peace in each other.
Oliver’s POV
“Can you run this through facial recognition please, Felicity?” “Yeah,” she said, tapping on her keyboard.
My phone began to ring, and I saw it was Barry.
I shot Felicity a look and headed to the backroom in the lair.
“Hey Be-” “Hello,” a voice said. I recognized it to be Cisco.
“Cisco?” “Yeah? Oliver?” “Why do you have Barry’s phone?” “Barry told me to call this number if he was ever in trouble?” I panicked, “Is, is h-he alright?” “Well, yes, no, he’s sorta-” “I’m coming now.”
“Felicity, I’m going to Central City, work stuff.” “What work exactly?” “Stuff.” “Secret girlfriend stuff?” “W-what?” “Come on, we all see you smiling at your texts, spending way too much time in Central City with'' Barry,” and the way your face lights up when you get a call.” “I-no. I don’t have a secret girlfriend.” Boyfriend, I have a secret boyfriend who happens to not be doing so well.
“Where is he? Where’s Barry?”
“Med bed, right there,” Caitlin said, “Be careful, he’s resting.” “What the hell happened to him?” I said, fuming.
“He got stabbed. Fight.” I ran over to his bed, grabbing his hand.
“Barry,” I said softly.
His eyes fluttered open softly.
“Ollie, ollie. Y-you came.”
“Of course, baby, why would I not be here?”
He just tried to move closer to me.
“Hey, hey, you stay still.”
“Cuddles? Please cuddles.”
I carefully made my way under the covers, and Barry immediately cuddled into me. He quickly fell asleep to the calming motion of my fingers running through his hair.
“When did that happen?” I heard Cisco whisper.
“Couldn’t tell you,” Caitlin said, equally baffed.
I just held on to Barry, hoping he’d get better. Hoping he’d be fine.
A few hours later his eyes fluttered open.
“Ollie?”
“I’m right here, Bear.”
“I think they know,” he said, smiling. “They might have a suspicion.” “All this started from a bit of training.” I kissed his forehead, “God, you idiot, you had me worried there.”
“You can’t get rid of me that quick.” “And I’m so glad.”
His lips met mine, and we kissed for a short moment.
“I think I love you Barry Allen.” He smiled his million dollar smile, “Oliver Queen? Love?”
“Only you.”
“I love you, too Ollie.”
Read/Save it on A03 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/31733458
#olivarry fic#olivarry#oliver queen#Barry Allen#felicity smoak#The Flash#The Arrow#arrowverse#m/m#fluff#fanfcition#dcu
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Oooohhh 13b for Bakugou or Todoroki? You can decide which to write for! Thank you 😊❤️ Congrats on 2k!!
sometimes
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
13b. Patching up a wound + attack on titan au
Warnings: mentions of death, blood/injuries, Bakugou’s (not so) secretly soft for you, I spent way too long struggling to write this I hope it turned out okay
Captain Bakugou Katsuki of the Survey Corps is not a man of mercy.
In a world where human-eating titans rule the land outside the walls and hesitation means death, mercy is just another word for weakness, a liability to the survival of humanity.
Bakugou is anything but weak.
When he meets you for the first time, he immediately thinks, what is a person like you doing here? You smile too often, way too much for someone who’s seen the horrors of the titans beyond the walls and lived to tell the tale. You laugh in a way that’s infectious, one hand nudging everyone you talk to, whether that be a light brush against their elbow or a pat on their shoulder. You’re the kind of person who stops to smell the roses, and, to Katsuki, another delusional survivor only kept alive all these years because of pure luck and the sacrifices of your comrades. You’re too soft for this life, your hands not meant to be tainted with the metal of swords and blood.
In this line of work, Bakugou’s had to watch more comrades die than he can count, people he’s trained and eaten with lost forever to the cruelty of the world outside the walls.
He doesn’t want your pretty face to be added to the list of lost souls that haunt his nightmares.
If there’s anything he can do to stop that from happening, he’ll do it, which is why it comes to everyone’s surprise when he accepts you into his squad under Commander Aizawa’s recommendation. You fit in like a puzzle piece they hadn’t even realized was missing, absolutely adored by Kirishima, Sero, Mina, and Kaminari.
In the first few months you’re under his command, he quickly learns that his first impression of you was horribly, horribly wrong. Contrary to the person you are in the city, you’re ferocious on the battle field outside the walls, nothing different in the way you smile at the weapons in your hands like they’re flowers instead of swords as you slay titans with deadly precision. That doesn’t stop his eyes from wandering over to you more than necessary during expeditions, though, always needing constant reassurance that you’re still behind him.
“You worried about me, Captain?” you joke after you catch him looking at you one time too many, eyes shining with a trace of mischief and something else he can’t quite put his finger on.
(Bakugou rolls his eyes and tells the rest of his snickering squad to keep moving.)
He worries for everyone on his squad, those precious lives that have been entrusted to him and his abilities to get them all home in one piece. But it’s different when it comes to you.
Which is why when he learns you’ve been injured by an abnormal titan due to another recruit’s slip up, furious is too mild a word to describe how badly he wants to acquaint the idiotic soldier’s face with the sole of his boot. Kirishima, Ashido, and Denki are barely able to hold him back as he screams at the soldier, blood roaring in his ears.
"B-Bakugou!” Your voice calls to him from the other side of the courtyard, and it’s enough to snap him out of whatever rage he was about to fly into. “I mean, Captain Bakugou,” you add sheepishly, almost as an afterthought, and all four of them look up to see you limping across the yard with Sero’s aid. The sight of one of your legs wrapped in bandages stained red is almost enough to send Bakugou into cardiac arrest. “Please don’t blame him!”
“Why shouldn’t I?” Katsuki demands, throwing the hands of the rest of his squad off him. “It was his idiocy that led to this, so how can I not be angry?”
You open your mouth to respond, but your foot catches on an uneven section of the stone ground and you stumble forward with a surprised yelp. He’s there in a flash before Sero can protest, catching you in his arms and looking down at where you’re blinking quite rapidly, hands uncertainly sliding along his forearms to help you regain your balance.
“Everyone makes mistakes,” you say, casting an understanding look over to the recruit in the corner trembling at having experienced Bakugou’s wrath. “No one knows what’s waiting for us out there. I made the decision to save him, and it was due to my own shortcomings that I was injured in the process. If it has to be anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”
Bakugou’s mouth opens and closes multiple times, his throat seemingly constricted by an unknown force. You were the one that had gotten hurt, so why didn’t you hold any sort of resentment towards the man you had to save because of his own weakness? Eventually, he dismisses the rest of his squad and the recruit with a wave of his hand and grabs you by the wrist as soon as they leave. “Come on,” he says hoarsely. You don’t ask where he’s taking you, only sliding your arm around his shoulders in response as he leads you through the barracks all the way to the infirmary.
“Captain,” one of the medics acknowledges him with a nod and respectful salute. “I’m sorry--but we’re a bit short-staffed right now--”
“I just need an empty room.”
“I sure hope you know what you’re doing,” you joke as you gingerly lower yourself onto the bed in the corner of the room. While your tone is lighthearted, your hands shake as you struggle to undo the hastily wrapped bandages on your leg.
“More than you,” he scoffs, kneeling in front of you and taking off the cloth himself. You don’t say anything while he cleans your injury despite the fact that it must sting like hell, the only indication you’re in pain how you grip the edge of the bed so hard your knuckles begin to pale.
“You worried for me, Captain?” you ask quietly once he’s done, gaze fixed on his face and decidedly not on your leg. The longer Katsuki looks at your injury, however, the more he feels like throwing up. He’s seen his fair share of blood and gore, but the red on his hands is a grim reminder that he could have lost you that day without him knowing or able to do anything about it.
And that terrifies him more than if it were his own life on the line, even though Bakugou Katsuki is anything but weak.
Except, maybe, when it comes to you.
2k event masterlist
#i rlly love snk sdhkshskd#t's 2k event#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki#bnha x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo#katsuki bakugou#bnha scenarios#mha scenarios#bnha imagines#mha imagines#katsuki bakugo imagine#bnha bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugou#boku no hero academia#boku no hero fanfic#boku no hero x reader#my hero academia x reader#my hero academia#mha bakugo x reader#mha x reader#bnha drabbles#mha drabbles#bakugou imagine#bnha oneshots#mha oneshot
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Season 1, Episode 1: PILOT
A/N: A lot of quotes and character dialogue is taken from the show! I am not trying to take credit for the amazing work the writers and actors and everyone involved in this show did! I also left out writing scenes that don’t involve the main group (IE: Ward and Sarah talking with Lana Grubbs) and a few other scenes simply because I wasn’t quite sure how to write them.
Warnings (for the whole series): violence (as it is in the show), swearing, mentions of abuse, underage drinking and smoking, drug use
Word Count: 3579
“The Outer Banks, paradise on earth.” I tune out John B’s voice, ignoring his ‘welcome to the OBX’ speech for the camera. He was determined to make a documentary about our lives this summer, though I really didn’t know why.
Welcome to the OBX, an island divided in two. You either have two houses or two jobs, that’s what John B always says. That blond boy sitting next to me, that’s JJ. My boyfriend. He’s as local as they come. Latest in a very long line of fishing, smuggling, vendetta-holding salt-lifers who make their living off the water. Don’t tell him I said this but he’s the best surfer I know. Mild kleptomaniac and probably a future tax cheat.
The girl across from me is Kiara or Kie. When she’s not saving turtles or listening to Marley, or getting a dolphin tattoo, she hangs with us. None of us really know why she’s a rich kid after all. Next to her is the brains of our little operation. Pope. Finalist for the Lucas T. Vanderhorst Merit Scholarship and the smartest kid I know.
The kid in the driver’s seat, the one who is paying more attention to his camera than the road, that’s John Booker Routledge, but everyone calls him John B. He’s kinda like my brother. He and his dad took me in when my family dumped me on their front porch when JB and I were about four. He drives me crazy and he knows it.
And then there’s me. Y/N Y/L/N. Little Routledge as JB likes to call me even though I’m four months older than him. Big John disappeared nine months ago at sea, which means JB and I have been on our own since Uncle T split for Mississippi. Everyone insists that Big John is dead but John B refuses to sign the papers until he sees a body.
Social workers have been on our asses nearly every day, trying to force us into foster care. John B and I have managed to avoid them so far.
So this is how our story starts. Me losing nearly all of my second family and a social worker breathing down my neck.
JB and I are probably the only two people in history to say this but thank god for hurricane Agatha.
“Hurricane Agatha continues its steady march towards Kildare Island on the Outer Banks of North Carolina…” JB set the radio on the counter, turning up the volume as we listened for a miracle to keep DCS away.
“Holy shit.” I look outside, taking in the dark sky and swirling wind. “JB, I think we found our miracle!” I shout over the storm siren, fishing my phone out of the couch cushions and dialing the number for DCS. “Yeah, I think we’re gonna have to reschedule.” I blurt into the phone, barely giving the woman time to answer.
John B rips the phone out of my hand, hanging up and dragging me outside. “We gotta surf the storm surge!”
“Are you insane?” I stumble after him, dodging tree branches. “Those aren’t surfable waves!”
“Says who?” He laughs. “Come on!” He drags me along, pausing to grab our boards.
I run after him, splashing into the water as the storm rages around us. I paddle after John B, surfing a few waves before the storm starts to pick up its pace. “JB! We gotta get inside!” I shout. John B stares out towards the open water, ignoring me.
“JB!” I shout. “We have to go!” I turn to look at him, my gaze following his extended arm and index finger. My eyes land on a boat, getting tossed around in the storm. “John B, we don’t have time to worry about what those idiots are doing, let’s go!”
🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌
The morning after a hurricane always feels like something out of a movie. The silence fills the gaps of life, save for the sound of chickens and the occasional shouts from neighbors.
I peel my eyes open, hearing John B moving around in the kitchen. I swing my legs over the side of my bed (which is really just two mattresses stacked on top of each other) and slowly stand up. I shield my eyes from the sunlight pouring in from my windows, moving the towels that double as my curtains out of the way.
I grab my phone from the stack of books next to my bed, checking the time. “No service,” I mutter, opening my door and stepping onto the cold wood floor of the Chateau.
“JJ, you been outside?” John B asks the blond boy, shaking his shoulder.
“I have polio, bro. I can’t walk.” JJ mumbles, burying his face deeper into the pillow.
I make my way to the front door, lightly swatting at JJ to get him up. “Oh man…” I whisper, looking outside. “That’s no good.” I survey the yard, taking in the damage. “What’re you thinking, JB?”
“I’m thinkin’ that storm surge pushed all the crabs out on the marsh maze. It’s God tellin’ us to fish since DCS isn’t getting on a ferry anytime soon.” John B grins.
🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌
I stand on the bow of the HMS Pogue with JJ, looking at all the damage. “We’ll be cleaning this all summer.” I murmur, shaking my head.
“That is my nightmare.” John B pipes up from behind the wheel, pulling up parallel to the dock just outside Heyward’s. “Well, look who we have here.”
“I can’t.” Pope mimics static, pretending to talk into a radio on his shoulder. “My pop’s got me on lockdown.”
“Your dad’s a pussy. Over.” JJ does the same, looking directly at Heyward.
“Oh, I heard that, you little bastard.” Heyward glares at JJ.
“We need your son.” JJ flashes one of his signature smiles.
“Yeah, and island rules.” I bite my lip to stifle a laugh. “Day after hurricane’s a free day.”
“Who made that up?” Heyward looks between me and Pope.
“Pentagon, I believe.” I laugh. “We have security clearance. I have a card.”
“You think I’m stupid?” Heyward frowns as Pope moves towards the edge of the dock.
“I’ll do it tomorrow. I promise. Tomorrow.” Pope moves to jump into the boat as Heyward moves forward.
“You think - no, no. Hell no. You doin’ it right now.”
“Get in the boat, Pope,” I whisper. “Make a run for it.”
Pope leaps into the boat, holding his hat on his head. “I promise I’ll do it tomorrow, dad!”
“We’ll bring him back in one piece!” I call to Heyward, waving.
The boys whoop and cheer, driving up to Kie’s dock. I smile wide, grabbing onto the dock as we wait for her.
“Good morning!” Kie hurries down the dock, carrying her usual backpack and cooler, her hair neatly tied up on the top of her head.
“Welcome aboard, fellow Pogue princess.” I laugh, saluting her. “Whatcha got? Juice boxes?”
“You know, just some yogurts and carrot sticks. I made sandwiches too, cut the crusts off how you like ‘em.” She teases, poking my nose.
I help her onto the boat, grabbing a beer from the cooler as John B drives out into the marsh. He weaves through the channels, leaning back in the captain’s seat, looking as if he’s asleep at the wheel. I wouldn’t be concerned if he was though, he knows these waters better than he knows himself.
“Can you go a little faster?” JJ asks, stepping up to the bow. “I got a party trick to show you.” He balances on the edge of the boat, tilting the beer bottle, letting the liquid flow freely from the bottle.
“You’re getting beer in my hair!” Kie and I shout in unison, screaming and falling out of our seats as the boat hits something, stopping immediately. “Jesus, JB!”
JJ groans, popping up from the water in front of the boat. “I think my heels touched the back of my head.” He chokes out.
“What did you do?” I push myself off the deck of the boat, resting a hand on John B’s shoulder.
“Sandbar.” John B mumbles. “The channel changed.”
“No shit, genius.” I shake my head.
“Hey, I saved the beer, though!” JJ cheers.
“Congrats, J.” I lean over the side, sticking my hand out to him. “Come on.”
“Guys… I think there’s a boat down there.” Pope calls, looking over the other side of the boat.
“Shut up, no way.” Kie scoffs.
“I’m serious. There’s a boat down there.” Pope points.
I join him on the side, looking down at the shape in the water. “Only one way to find out.” I shrug, quickly discarding my shirt and shorts before diving in. I swim down, peering around in the murky water. My eyes go wide and I swim up, grabbing onto the edge of the boat. “That’s a fucking Grady-White. A new one is like an easy 500 G’s.”
“That’s the boat we saw when we surfed the surge.” John B looks at me. “Maybe it hit the jetty or something.”
“Do we know whose boat that is?” Kie frowns.
“No, but we’re about to find out.” I smile.
“It’s way too deep.” JJ shakes his head. “You’re not going down there.”
“Oh, for the weak and feeble, JJ.” John B chuckles. “Little Routledge can handle it.” He turns his attention to me, saluting me. “Diver down.”
“Diver down.” I flip him off before diving back down, searching around the boat. I pop up after a moment, pushing my hair out of my face.
“Any dead bodies?” Pope asks nervously.
“Looting potential?” JJ asks at the same time.
I shake my head, holding up a bright yellow tag with a key attached. “I found this motel key.”
🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌
I jump out of the boat as we reach the motel, tying the rope around a stump. “So, what’s the plan?”
“You’ll see, bubba.” John B grabs my wrist and JJ’s arm, pulling us along.
“Yeah, that doesn’t inspire confidence, dumbass.” I roll my eyes. “This place is a shitshow, doesn’t look like anywhere someone with a Grady-White stays.”
“Motel or meth lab?” Kie mutters under her breath.
“You be the judge,” Pope mutters back before giving me a pointed look. “Don’t let your boyfriend do anything stupid.”
“I can’t make any promises.” I raise my hands in surrender as we walk off, going up the steps of the motel.
John B leads us to the door, checking the number on the key as JJ knocks on the door.
“Housekeeping!” JJ calls in a high pitched voice, waiting for an answer.
“Should we try it?” John B asks, prompting nods from JJ and me.
We enter the room, closing the door behind us. I look around the room, handing John B a map from the bed. I move towards the bathroom, seeing John B messing with the safe out of the corner of my eye. I scan the walls of the dark and dirty room, shining my flashlight around
“You guys are gonna wanna see this.” He murmurs.
JJ and I hurry over, looking in the safe. “Damn…” I whisper, looking at the stack of money, a gun laying on top of it.
JJ grins like a maniac, grabbing the gun from the safe.
“JJ, put that down now!” I whisper-shout.
“Just take a picture of me! Right here and then I’ll put it back!”
“You want me to take a picture of you?” I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest. “Make our own incriminating evidence?” I look up, hearing a tapping on the window. I hurry over, looking out to see Pope and Kie jumping up and down.
“Cops!” Kie shouts quietly.
“Shit, boys, time to go,” I whisper. “Cops.”
🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌
“Thanks for warning us so quickly.” I laugh, playfully shoving at Kie’s shoulder as we push off from the motel.
“We would have warned you sooner except Pope was on the math team.” She rolls her eyes.
“Did you guys find anything?” Pope asks.
“No, I don’t think so.” JJ sighs before pulling out the gun and a stack of cash. “ Oh, yeah, we did.”
“Are you serious?” Pope shouts in a high pitched voice. “I’m gonna lose my merit scholarship.”
“At least you have us, right?” JJ grins.
“I’m living the nightmare,” Pope whispers to himself.
🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌
“It’s Scooter Grubbs. He was out during the storm. Check out this pic I got.”
“Dead body.”
“Insane.”
“Holy shit.”
“What kind of boat did he have?”
“Somehow, that dirtbag copped a brand-new Grady-White. Everyone’s out looking for it.”
The words seemed to hover around us as we drove back to the Chateau, following us as we collapsed into chairs on the porch.
“Okay… so, um… we didn’t see anything.” John B takes off his hat, running a hand through his hair. “We don’t know anything.”
“We need to have total and complete amnesia.” Pope nods.
“Actually, Pope is right for once.” JJ nods, slinging an arm around me as he slides into the seat next to me. “See, I agree with you sometimes. Deny, deny, deny.”
“We can’t keep that money.” Kie paces up and down the porch.
“Not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara.” JJ sighs.
I lightly push at his chest, giving him a look. “We have to pass it off to Lana Grubbs.”
“Otherwise, it's bad karma.” Kie nods in agreement.
“I don’t agree.” John B murmurs from the corner. “This is Scooter Grubbs we’re talking about. Same dude that’s buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas. We’re talking about a dirtbag marina rat who’s never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden, he’s got a Grady-White? Just sayin’,”
“We have to see what’s in the cargo hold of that wreck,” I speak up. “For now, we lay low and act normal.”
“Kegger?” JJ grins.
🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌
As JB always says; you can’t understand the Outer Banks without understanding the boneyard. It's kinda like a three-layer burrito. There’s us and our friends, the working class derelicts. Then, there are the Kooks, the rich second-homers. They’re mostly from poncey-ass boarding schools, just rich trustafarian posers. Our natural enemies. And then, there are the Tourons. Totally clueless. Here for a week on vacation with their families. Chum for the sharks.
I smile, making my way across the sand with drinks for me and JJ, passing Pope along the way.
“It's kinda weird when on TV, we see people die, and they kinda just sit there, but in actuality, they would be shitting and farting up a storm.”
I laugh, shaking my head as I walk past Pope and the fire. I make my way over to JJ’s usual spot; a fallen tree half-buried in the sand. I hand JJ his drink, sipping mine. “Poor Pope.” I snicker, glancing at the other boy over my cup. “He just can’t figure out how to talk to girls.”
“Sarah! Sarah, be careful, okay?”
I turn my attention towards the metal buoy stuck in the sand, recognizing Topper’s voice as he tries to coax Sarah down from the buoy.
That’s Sarah Cameron. Kook princess. Kiara’s best friend in the ninth grade, worst enemy in the tenth grade. JB works on her dad’s boats and I was supposed to be helping her stepmom with gardening but have basically become a glorified babysitter for the princess. And that’s Topper. Her not so pleasant boyfriend. Just saying his name makes me want to vomit. He actually thinks Pogues were bred to mow lawns.
I watch as Topper lifts Sarah down, starting to walk her up the beach and back towards his car. I barely see JJ move forward, extending a cup in her face.
“Sarah, can I interest you in a tasty Milwaukee beverage?” JJ smirks, frowning when she declines. “Is it not fancy enough for you?”
“I’ll take it.” Topper reaches for the cup, glaring as JJ pulls it away.
“If you said pretty please, maybe.” JJ teases.
Topper moves to grab the cup, knocking into JJ’s hand and spilling the drink all over Sarah. “Dirty Pogues!” Topper growls as Sarah pushes him back.
John B moves in front of JJ as I pull him away. Topper lunges at John B, knocking him into the water. “ Don’t make me drown you like your old man, all right?” Topper shouts, holding John B down in the water.
JJ rushes forward, pressing the gun to Topper’s head and clicking the safety off.
“JJ!” I gasp.
“Yeah, you know what that is. Your move, broski.” JJ huffs as Topper raises his hands in surrender, standing up.
“Check your psycho boyfriend, Y/N!” Sarah whines.
“Okay, everyone, listen up! Get the hell off our side of the island!” JJ fires the gun twice into the air, watching as the crowd scatters.
“So much for laying low!” Pope hisses at JJ, helping Kie pick John B from the water.
🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌
The next morning, JB was up before the roosters started crowing. The rest of the Pogues had returned to their respective homes. Kie had taken Pope home before returning to her house in Figure 8. JJ had left a small kiss on the crown of my head before disappearing into the trees.
I wander out of my room, wiping sleep from my eyes. “You look like you just swallowed a jellyfish.” I bump shoulders with John B.
“Sheriff Peterkin just left…” He mumbles. “She’s asking questions. She said she can help us with DCS if we help her.”
“Well… we’ll just give her the most information we can without us getting in trouble.” I sigh.
🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌
“The three of us! We’ve got nothing to lose!” JJ huffs, gesturing between me, John B, and himself. “You’re not calling this off, John B. I have a plan. We borrow some scuba gear from Cameron’s big boat and then we go down to the wreck.”
We probably should’ve learned a long long time ago to never listen to JJ. He’s filled to the brim of bad ideas, like stealing from JB’s rich boss.
Big John said the island was America on steroids. The haves and have-nots like anyplace, but magnified and multiplied. The way JB and I see it, the game’s rigged. Maybe it always has been. No parents, money, and no one looking out for us. We got no chance unless we make it on our own.
🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌
“You took empty tanks, JB.” I sigh.
“This one’s a quarter full.” John B mumbles.
“So enough for one of us… I just love it when a plan comes together.” I rub my head in annoyance.
“Does anyone even know how to dive?” John B asks.
“I read about it,” Pope speaks up.
“Great, Pope read about it. So someone’s gonna die.” I roll my eyes.
“Look, you put the thing in your mouth and breathe. How hard could it be?” JJ asks.
“If you come up too fast, nitrogen gets into your blood, and you get the bends.” Pope leans back in the captain’s seat.
“Bends like, bend over and…” JJ giggles, bending over the wheel.
“The bends kill you.” Pope sighs, making JJ’s eyes go wide.
🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌 🏄 🌊 🚌
We all circle around John B as he kneels on the dock, holding the bag from the wreck.
“Can we please just open the bag?” Pope huffs.
“Damn, Pope. That’s a rare outburst of emotion.” I snicker.
“You guys are literally killing me with anticipation. Open the bag.”
John B opens the bag, pulling out a canister. He twists open the canister, letting a small circular compass fall out.
“Oh, wow. Yup. That’s about right.” Pope sighs. “Good job, everybody. We found a compass. It's not worth anything.”
“This was my father’s.” John B mumbles.
#outer banks series rewrite#jj maybank x reader#outer banks#outer banks netflix#obx#obx netflix#jj outer banks#kiara outer banks#pope outer banks#john b routledge
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hey bby ♥️ congrats!!!! can I request made by my own mind lol. anyways can I get a blurb where bad boy! cal takes care of you after a long night at a party. maybe it was at calums friends house and he drove you to his house to stay for a night and you wake up next to him? thanks bby♥️
Chloe, my sweet baby, thank you so much! I’m sorry it took me so long, but i hope this 3k words ‘blurb’ would be enough of an apology. Also, i have no idea why i decided to make it enemies to lover but, oh well, i looove you! ♥️ ♥️ ♥️
This should have been a good night. It was the beginning of summer and you anticipated this party for some time. You had a plan which included a sexy dress, a cute date and a whole night of fun. Instead of fun though, you were getting wasted on your own in some corner thinking how your dress deserved more. How you deserved more than this asshole of a date standing you up.
You huffed in your drink (third? fourth?) and pouted. Could this night get any worse?
“If not that pout, I wouldn’t recognize you,” you heard and realised the night got ten thousand times worse.
“Fuck off, Hood,” you breathed out, tiredness in your voice. The last thing you needed now was one of your famous fights with Calum Hood. You didn’t remember how and why it all started and, probably, no one did. He was a friend of a friend of a friend, you met at some party or maybe some outing and, well, saying it was hatred at the first sight wouldn’t be an exaggeration here. When one was saying something, the other couldn’t help it but quarrel in response. Soon your friends were joking about the passion between the two of you, but even they dropped that at how intransigent your battles were. You two got pretty successful in avoiding each other, but sometimes the Universe still made you bump into him. You knew the Universe has always had wicked sense of humor. But tonight was too low even for her.
“Chill, will you?” he smirked. “Was trying to make a compliment to your dress. It’s a really good-looking dress.”
You looked back at him, sensing the trick in his words.
“You, on the other hand, look just as unpleasant as usual,” he finished with the same smirk on his face.
Yeah, there it was, you thought.
“Thank you,” you replied, downing your drink. (third? fourth? ugh, whatever!)
You saw his smirk disappear. From all of the things you could say back to him, a simple “thank you” was the most unexpected, obviously. You smiled.
“Was afraid the earth and the sky changed place and I somehow missed it, but your last comment proved the world order is fine and the nature is still in balance, so thank you,” you explained, pushed yourself off the wall and started making your way to the kitchen, where all the drinks were.
“Where are you going?” Calum asked, following you.
You didn’t look back at him, so you couldn’t see how serious he looked asking that question.
“To get a refill,” you dropped.
“It was your fourth drink,” he said.
“Great! The fifth should be the lucky one then,” you said, wondering why the heck was he counting your drinks. Was he about to use it to insult you in any way? Your dizzy mind was trying to come up with any better insults than calling you a drunk bitch, but failed. Finally, you gave up. Wants to call you a drunk bitch? You couldn’t care less.
“Maybe you should stop for tonight?” he asked, grabbing your wrist and making you stop and look at him. “Or at least slow down, it’s not even midnight.”
You sighed. “Seriously, Hood, the fuck are you trying to do?”
“I’m just-”
But you didn’t let him finished. “I don’t know what filth you have in mind for me today, but can we already get to the point? Please? So we finish faster and I can go and be drunk and miserable on my own?”
You saw surprise in his eyes and something else, that you couldn’t recognise fast enough. If it wasn’t Calum Hood, you’d say it was offence. But he of all people couldn’t be offended by you. It was just your tipsy mind playing tricks on you.
Calum let go of your wrist and bowed his head jokingly. The next moment he disappeared in the crowd, leaving you feeling even more of an idiot than before.
You lost count again, not sure if the glass in your hand was still the fifth one or already the sixth. Some guy was chatting you up for some time and you were smiling to his lame jokes, thinking that maybe this night won’t be so bad after all if you leave the party with him. He leaned to you a little, stroke your hair, pushing it behind your ear, and said how damn sexy you were.
“Nah, it’s not her who’s sexy, it’s the dress,” the words sounded behind your back. “I mean, just look at that dress. It’s gorgeous. Anyone would look sexy in it. But the girl… Truth to be told, she’s rather average. Nice body, pretty face, yeah, I’d even go so far to say we have some serious ass here, but her character, trust me, is awful. Can’t keep her mouth shut for the dear life! So don’t waste your time, bro, and go find someone else.”
You weren’t surprised with those words. In the time you knew each other Calum said worse things about you. What did surprise you was how the guy looked at Calum and backed off without any other word. You were left there to stare at his back and gape in shock.
“I know I asked this question one too many times,” you started, turning back and meeting with Calum’s satisfied look, “but the fuck is wrong with you, Hood?”
“Oh, come on!” he said, pointing to where the guy disappeared. “You think he was worth it? I just told him you never shut up, which is truth, and he ran away without another word! You can do better, especially in this dress.”
You had no idea what to say to that, so you just stood there and looked back at him, trying to control the anger inside.
“You just need to stop pouting, is all,” Calum added.
“I can pout whenever the fuck I want! And I can fuck whoever the fuck I want!” you hissed, wincing at a strange feeling in your stomach. “And I don’t need your fucking opinion on-”
You had to stop suddenly, you hand flew to your chest.
“Oh, god, no!” Calum sighed and grabbed you.
You had no idea where he was pushing you to, the next thing you saw was bright sink in front of you. He was holding your hair, while the content of your stomach was leaving you. Calum opened the tap and handed you a paper towel as you were finished.
“You actually surprised me,” he said, leaning on the kitchen counter and looking at you. “I thought you’d puke after the sixth glass.”
“It was the sixth glass,” you frowned.
Calum chuckled. “No, it was eighth.”
“Oh,” you said, not having energy for anything else. You felt your knees go weak, fog enveloping your mind. You knew you just needed to lie down for a moment. Just for a moment.
“No, no, no, don’t close your eyes!”
Calum grabbed you by your waist and slapped your cheek lightly, making you open your eyes and look at him.
“Why can’t you leave me alone?” you almost moaned, hanging on his arms.
“Believe it or not, slugger, but I don’t want you to end up unconscious and used by some wanker,” he huffed.
“I’m not a slugger, I don’t fight,” you frowned again, unable to stop your eyes from closing again.
“Sure you do, you fight me all the time!”
“Not physically.”
You heard him sighing as you fell on his chest with your head. You hated to admit it, but he smelled nice and his chest was soft. “You almost unconscious and you’re still arguing. You are a slugger.”
You just yawned to that.
“Please, just don’t fall asleep,” he said to your head.
“Just let me go home,” you mumbled, already half-asleep.
“Sure, where do you live?”
“At home.”
Calum grumbled something incoherent and in one sharp move threw you over his shoulder. This sudden change in disposition woke you up again.
“Hey, put me down!” you squealed.
“So you can do what? Fall asleep again?” he quarreled, leaving the house through the back door.
You closed your eyes, partly not to see people’s reaction, partly because watching the ground was making you dizzy again. And then it’s struck you.
“Calum, my dress is too short!”
He huffed. And put his hand right on your ass.
“Stop pawing me!”
“Hey, a moment ago you were worried about your dress being too short! I’m holding it!” he tried to defend himself as he started moving his hand lower on your butt to, as you thought, put it on your legs. But he stopped as his hand was basically holding your left cheek. He was palming your ass now? Were you even drunk enough for that?
“Calum!”
“I’m saving you from some wanker, holding your hair while you’re vomiting, carrying you cause you’re unable to walk and even taking care that no one sees that nice ass of yours. The fuck are you protesting against?” he listed, slowing down and bending to put you back on your feet.
You stood, feeling your knees go weak again, but found it in yourself to meet his cocky smile.
“You’re a dick,” you said.
He just smiled wider and opened the car door for you. “Can you get inside or shall I help you with that too?”
You didn’t even try to roll your eyes on him, too drunk and tired for that now. You climbed on the passenger seat, Calum sighing behind your back at, probably, your clumsiness. The seat, soft and warm, felt heavenly. You heard him asking you not to fall asleep, as he climbed in and started the car, but you were already on your way to the dream land.
The next thing you knew, Calum was carrying you, again. And god knows where. It was dark and every his step produced an echo.
“Are you gonna kill me?” you mumbled.
“Tempting, but no. I’d like my house to stay a corpse free territory.”
“We’re at your house?” you shrieked in utter shock. “Why are we in your house?”
“Because I have no idea where your house is and you were unconscious,” Calum explained patiently.
“But I can’t be at your house! You’re a dick!” you continued in the same over-agitated tone of an excited three years old kid.
“No, I’m not,” he sighed.
“Yes, you are! And you don’t like me!”
He took a deep breath and stopped. You felt yourself being put on your legs again, more carefully this time.
“That’s debatable too. Can you stand here like that for two minutes?”
You just nodded, not fully aware of what on earth was happening and if you dreamed it all or not. Calum turned on a table lamp and disappeared behind some door. You looked around what was probably a bedroom, as you found a king size bed behind you. It looked so comfortable, that you couldn’t actually keep yourself from it. You took off your shoes, slipped out of your dress and took the first step towards this wonderfully looking bed.
“Jesus fucking Christ, y/n!” you heard behind yourself.
“What?” you asked, turning back to him.
He was looking at you, shaking his hand, his mouth slightly open.
“You’re going to kill me tomorrow, but that’s so worth it,” he said, his sight sliding down your body.
“I was going to sleep,” you explained. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because you’re almost naked in my bedroom.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” he agreed, finally moved his eyes off you, looked around and picked up one of his tees lying right on the floor. “Here, wear this.”
“Why?”
“Just fucking take it and wear it!” he growled at you.
You shrugged, took the tee, then looked down your body again. You actually hated sleeping in bra. You sighed, squeezed his shirt between your thighs and took off your bra.
“For fuck’s sake!” you heard Calum breathe out. You looked up at him, he was standing with his back to you now, his hands on his face. You shrugged, not really getting the reaction, and put his shirt on.
“You done?”
“Yeah,” you mumbled, looking around perplexedly, thinking where you could put your bra. You dress was lying on the floor, but you really liked that bra.
Calum came up to you, took your bra out of your hands and threw it to the armchair in the corner. Then he took your hand and pushed you to the bathroom. It was big and bright. Too bright for your taste. You squinted as Calum grabbed you around your waist and sat you on the countertop. Took some tissues and the bottle with something looking like a micellar water and asked you to close your eyes.
“If I close them, i’ll fall asleep again,” you warned him.
He laughed, “Actually, sleeping you’re obviously less dangerous for my sanity.”
“I’m dangerous for your sanity?” you asked, feeling wet cloth on your face. The sensation was so refreshing and his hand was surprisingly delicate. He didn’t answer your last question, but in a minute you weren’t already sure there was a question at all. You were too busy basking in his tender touch. Who knew Calum fucking Hood could be so…
“You said I was average,” you remembered suddenly.
“What?” he didn’t understand what you were talking about.
“At a party,” you explained. “You said to the guy I was average.”
He didn’t answer anything again.
“Do you really think I’m average?”
“No, y/n, I don’t think that,” he admitted quietly.
“Then why did you say it? It wasn’t really nice.”
“I said it because I didn’t like the guy and the way he was flirting to you,” Calum said, his voice calm and steady. “That was rude of me, but it was basically the first thing I came up with. Don’t know what is it in you that always pulls the worst out of me.”
You had no idea what to say to that. So you just sat there, while he was taking your makeup off.
“You’re good,” he informed you quietly in a couple of minutes and helped you off the countertop. “Will you make it to the bed?”
You nodded again and trode back into the bedroom.
Surprisingly, you were still awake when he left the bathroom and turned off the light.
“Y/n?” he whispered in the darkness.
“Yeah?”
“I’ll be a room next door,” he said and moved to the door.
You had no idea where this came from, registered the words after they actually left you. But it was too late to take them back. “Can you stay, please?”
“What?”
You turned on your back to see his silhouette and repeated. “Stay here, please. Don’t wanna be alone.”
You heard his heavy sigh. Then he turned to the bed, took off his shoes and climbed on, lying over the covers.
“Why are you so sweet to me?” you asked a minute later.
“Maybe I’m not sweet to you. Maybe I’m just not as much of a dick as you thought.”
“That’s unlikely,” you smiled, hearing his chuckle.
You two didn’t say anything else, just closed your eyes and let your agitated minds drift away.
Waking up was painful and pleasant at the same time. The first thing you felt was your headache. You were ready to swear you’ve never had such awful headache in your life. But you also could feel the smell of the rain, which was one of your favourite smells. You slowly opened your eyes. Then you yelled. Then you sat up. Then you understood you were barely clothed. Then Calum woke up, because you hit him with the pillow.
“The fuck are you doing?” he grumbled, grabbing the pillow from your hand and closing his eyes again.
“Why am I in your bed?” you asked in search of at least some answers. The memories of last night coming at you in wawes. The date that never showed up, cocktails, some guy, vomiting in someone’s kitchen.
Calum opened his eyes and looked as you were remembering what you could.
“You were drunk,” he stated simply.
“Yeah, I got it,” you breathed out. “Why did I-” you tried to ask, then stopped yourself, then decided to finish, “Why did I get undressed?”
“I had no idea, but fully enjoyed it,” the fucker informed you, the smirk you hated so much on his face.
“Can you give me the pillow back?”
“So you could hit me again? Nah, I don’t think so.”
You sighed. After all, it wasn’t his fault you were so drunk that started taking your clothes off in front of him. He helped you, took care of you, let you stay in his house. You sighed again.
“I promise not to hit you,” you said.
He looked at you again, his eyes full of doubt, and handed you the pillow.
You lied down on your side, facing his closed eyes.
“Thank you,” you whispered, “For taking care of me.”
Calum chuckled. “Any time. You’re actually funny when you’re so drunk. And I know I already said your dress was terrific, but, damn, that underwear was even better.”
You tried to fight it, but you couldn’t help smiling to that.
Calum yawned and said, “Give me five more minutes and I’ll cook some breakfast, okay?”
“Yeah,” you replied, not caring for breakfast at all, fascinated by the half-sleeping man in front of you and wondering how this strange night would change things between the two of you.
***
tagging some people cause this is a full size one shot lol (feel free to ignore): @myloverboyash, @bringmethehorizonandpizza, @calumamongmen, @post-traumatic-mess, @empathycth, @calpops, @talkfastang, @cthoodsthetic, @singt0mecalum, @i-calumhood, @5saucewho, @gorgeouslygrace
#calum hood#calum hood blurb#calum hood imagine#5sos#5sos blurb#5sos imagine#calum hood fic#5sos fic#my blurb#500 followers celebration blurbs#my writing#requests#asks#rip-lukes-balsamic
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Monster Family (Monster Roommate AU) CH9
HIATUS OVER! Im back! I had to take some time off in the fall because holy hell life got crazy! But Im back and Im determined to finish this and get the story through IT ch2 idk how long that will take me but now that Im financially stable I finallly have time to write!
CH 9 Hospital
When you're on a diet the last place you want to go to is an ice cream shop where temptation surrounds you in every corner. For Pennywise staring at a room full of screaming crying infants was like standing in an ice cream shop with a growling stomach and the world's biggest sweet tooth.
They were so helpless and plump he could just pluck one up and swallow it whole. No one would even notice! They're all just right there! The Adam's apple of his human form bobbed up and down as he gulped and pressed a hand to the window.
"First time dad?" A man was speaking to him he sounded disgustingly confident and joyful.
"Yes." He answered distantly.
"Aw congrats son! My wife just popped out number 3 right there! Cute little tyke, those legs look like a future football star's legs I'm tellin ya! Nice and plump gonna be a strong runner!"
Robert Grey wiped his lips with his sleeve as he stared at the squirming drumsticks.
"So newbie which one of the little rascals here is yours? Wait don't tell me, the one with the fish eyes HA!"
Robert held back a snarl. "My offspring have not arrived yet." He said almost ominously
"Ah hell don't be nervous pal! You'll be fine!"
"I do not get nervous." Robert did growl this time. He wanted to leave not only because this human stunk of pork rinds and grass cuttings but more so that he was stressed being in this place. There was a lot of fear in these halls possibly some of his own. His mate's seizing body was still fresh in his mind and the blood from her head was still under some of his fingernails. She will definitely kill him when she wakes up.
"Mister um Grey? Your wife is…..well she's stable will you please come with me?" A nurse called to him. Finally an excuse to leave.
"Go get em champ!" He heard the human male call out to him. The eldritch decided that none of his offspring will be participating in this game of footballs just to avoid ever encountering this loud individual again.
"We don't know how to tell you this sir but your wife is….well she has no pulse... Medically speaking she should be dead.." Robert stood unamused at the door of a hospital room he really did not want to be in. "I'm aware of that." He growled at the confused nurse. He should probably make her not see the fact that leech was a card-carrying member of the living dead but to be honest he wasn't focusing too much on what people saw and did not see. Most of his attention was on the strange male who insisted they came here instead of home. He didn't like the smell of him and did not like that his mind was unreadable. All he knew about him was that he knew his mate and had more than just a guitar in that case he carried.
When the man found them it was Robert Grey's face he wore while he stood in the middle of the road. The creature frantically licked his seizing mate whos swollen stomach flashed frantically with muffled light. No matter what he did, he couldn't get it to stop and his silver desperate eyes reflected back in the approaching headlights. The following conversation was a blur, the man apparently had met them the night before on that wonderfully brilliant bender he went on. Something about getting his mate to the hospital something about a friend who worked there….
"Sir? Are you all alright? " The nurse asked and brought the eldritch out of his thoughts. He let out a very inhuman snarl and pushed past the woman "sir! We need to discuss this more there's the matter of an ultrasound and-" Pennywise slammed the door behind him. He glanced up at the scene before him; another nurse fussed over the unconscious vampire smearing ointment on her stomach as she lay as still as a fresh corpse. He did not like the way they touched her nor the smell of the bandages on her head.
"Oh you must be the father? We're about to take a look at the baby." She said cheerfully. Pennywise's scowl did not change.
The instrument pressed into his brood and a fang twitched over his lip. How dare this filth touch his mate and his eggs. He moved to protect but stopped when little lights began to dimly glow beneath the surface of Leech's pale skin. The nurse was mumbling something about seeing babies then she froze jaw going slack at the sight of the monitor. The infant deadlights within his vampire all shined through the screen, paralyzing their victim while rotating hypnotically just like their parent lights. The eldritch finally softened his gaze at the sight of his offspring. Pride stole his breath away from him and his scowl slowly warmed into a smile. Not even born and already making kills. He understood it all now, pride in something other than himself. Was he crying? Can he cry? Pennywise was lost in pondering these new emotions not even registering that his mate had come to and had bitten into the brain scrambled nurse. Leech hissed as she sucked the life out of the woman reflecting soulless eyes at the dumbstruck cosmic horror who was still completely mesmerized by all the strange new parental feelings it was trying to process. He didn't move till the empty body fell to the floor snapping back to reality at the sound of the heavy thud. Leech returned to a reclined position resting her palm on her churning stomach feeling the happy buzzing beneath her skin coughing and wheezing as if the blood she just consumed was her first breath of life.
A tissue dragged over her lips and one of her eyes slowly opened to watch Robert hover over her. "You're in trouble." She muttered.
"When am I not." He smirked and licked the tissue before swiping blood from her cheek particularly hard.
"You didn't even propose you dick!" Leech growled and gingerly sat up.
"Was tired of being bothered." Her mate tossed the tissue aside and instead switched to running his thumb over her cool lips. He licked his fingers clean with a satisfied groan.
"That's not really the point of getting married Pen." Leech replied quietly and the mood changed fast. Robert's hands pulled away from her and a coldness filled the air. The eldritch stepped back towards the door and Leech could see the hurt on his features even if he hid it.
"..........You do not want this?" was he sad? Oh great drama queen is upset.
"Hey I'm having your fucking babies egg head!" She blurted out trying to get out of the bed but struggled from her size. Her mate was already getting ready to walk out. "Pen don't fucking jump to conclusions. I don't want this in the way you did it! That's what has me upset!" She felt fear in her throat followed by the pain of her own children feeding off her. Tears spilled from her eyes as ichor bubbled from her mouth. "I want it to fucking mean something to you, like it does for me!" She gurgled weakly spilling black goo from her lips to the floor. Her mate did finally stop trying to leave much to her relief. She coughed and gripped the bed tightly. "I didn't even get a bachelorette party…." She could feel herself panting and she shifted back to a reclining position. "Hey, I still love you, you big drama queen. Don't ever doubt that. Can we just discuss this post offspring? I got a lot on my plate right now." After an uncomfortable silence he turned to her with wild golden eyes. "They look like me." Was all he said.
"They eat like you too." Leech sighed wiping her own blood from her lips. Robert's lip twitched upward as Leech shut her eyes in relief "I hate saying this but-"
"You need my help."
"You're the one who did this to me anyway." The vampire groaned and shut her eyes. "I feel so gross and bloated." She felt a hand reach under her knees and another slither around her back lifting her with ease. "Who's being the drama queen now?" He finally grinned
"Fuck you."
"You've already done that darling." Robert smirked with pride kissing her bandaged head. Leech traced the nail of her thumb over his cheekbone and her eldritch leaned into the touch.
"Just mouth stuff then." She smiled and kissed his soft wet lips.
"What the hell are you doing?! Put her back idiot!" The pair froze at the shout as two men burst into the room. Pennywise's eye cracked open and rolled to the side, eyeing them both with venom. "Oh christ, they killed Bridget." The doctor groaned. Herbert West lifted the dead woman's wrist and dropped it "I suppose I can use the body for research. This will be such a mess to clean, you people are nightmares to work with I hope you know that."
"I thought you said you didn't work with the living doc." Leech grumbled as her mate eased her back down and stood guard in front of her bedside.
"Your buddy here called in a favor."
"The guy from the bar?"
"Call me Duke darlin, Duke Rivers! Found the two of you in the middle of the road, gave you a lift."
"I don't remember anything after passing out." Leech grumbled gingerly touching her head.
"Shoulda seen that old bug of yours! What a worried wreck! Didn't I tell ya he'd come around?" The older man laughed then placed his coat on his shoulder. "I'll bet letting the doc take it from here, consider it my one good deed of the day. Come see my show sometime kid."
"I- yeah, I think I will thanks." The man studied her as Robert shot a venom-filled glare in his direction then nodded at them as he slipped out. Leech barely had time to think before being roughly grabbed by the chin.
"You seem to be healing slow your um..species.. is known for regenerating yes?" West turned her head and pulled back her dressings.
"You think I'm sick?" Leech sat up taking her mate's hand.
"Do keep in mind I specialize in humans this is completely uncharted territory for me."
"Well I'm human-shaped….most of the time…"
"I'll need you to go over weaknesses and allergies of both you and your...significant other. Something could have weakened you or the babies."
"I have none!" Robert butted in with pride.
"Yeah yeah lucky you." Leech grumbled.
"And I believe I told you to wait till sunset but ohhhh no someone just haaad to go swimming."
"Oh shut up you were just as into it as I was."
"So you've been weakened by sunbathing despite knowing you're allergic to sunlight. And here I thought legendary monsters would be intelligent." The doctor sighed and turned the vampires head who hissed in annoyance. "Figures you are more vulnerable in your condition. By the rate your head injury is healing it'll take days instead of hours till you're on your feet. Hope the tan was worth it."
"Your bedside manner needs work doc." Leech muttered as he roughly redressed her wound
"I work with the dead not the living"
"It shows." Robert nearly hissed not liking the way this other touched his mate so carelessly.
Leech rolled her eyes at him "So I don't know about you boys but i need another drink. Hook a girl up doc? Got any A negative? That shits rare!"
"I would like a baby." The cosmic horror said cooly
"You already have babies Pe-.......wait…..no. oh no you are not eating a baby!"
"Peachy they are literally right there!" The eldritch's fangs split his face as he glared out the small window. His company looked mortified "Just one, one small soft and squealing."
"You are not eating a fucking baby!" Leech growled.
"I deserve one!" The disguised clown snarled glaring at his mate with vermilion eyes and a broken human face.
"You already got my ass virginity today!" Leech snarled back rolling her eyes at the dramatic display.
"Things I did not need to hear at 5 am….. look I'm not stealing you rare blood types and infants for a grotesque gourmet feast. I will supply you with what you will need and then ask you people to get out of my hospital." The doctor grumbled and began to fuss with the corpse on the floor.
"Fine then Pen take me home, I'd rather rot in my own bed anyway."
"I told you a couple days rest. You will live, are all of you this dramatic?"
"Only the pretty ones doc!" The vampire flashed a parting grin as they left the doctor to clean their mess. He was grumbling something about never working with the undead again.
------------------
"You should be resting." Her monster’s voice hissed from under her bed. Leech shot a disinterested glance to the floor then back to her window. She felt a puff of hot moist air uncontrollably close to her face then heard a maw of teeth open "YoU sHOulD bE REsTinG." The eldritch gurgled.
"You realize the scary faces are gonna keep me awake right?" Leech cooly said and heard a set of jaws snap shut with enough force to break bones in two.
"Things other than scary faces are keeping you up. I smell it on you." Her clown’s voice warbled out and Leech subconsciously moved for him to join her.
"You ever look at someone you've never met and just feel like you know them?"
"No. But I am amused by this continue." The massive horror smiled through his words as he bullishly snuggled his way into his mate’s bed.
"I think I know the guy who helped us. I don't know why though."
"Hmm too much stressing for you Mrs. Wise. But I will help put your mind at ease when you feel better. Promise promise." Leech felt soft nuzzles against her head as her mate ran his cheekbones over her skull like a cat.
"I thought we agreed not to talk about that." Leech grumbled and turned to face her apparent "husband". "And its Grey. I like Grey on the end of my name."
"Someone's thought of this before!" Pennywise's smile widened. "Daydreaming about your clown my dear?"
"Don't embarrass me." Leech grunted and buried her face in his ruff. If she was alive, her face would be hot. "I'm not considering this official until we have a real ceremony and I get a ring. Call me old fashioned but your girl has standards."
"Hmm as you wish then Mrs. Grey!" He chuckled darkly smirking at her darkened cheeks and wide-eyed expression.
"You fucking jackass." She muttered as her clown cackled grabbing her tight and tickling her skin. So much for bed rest.
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Goo And A Letterman Jacket - Phic Phight
Prompt Creator: @all-hail-trash-prince Prompt: Danny gets stuck in human form, but can still use his ghost powers. Now he has to find a way to disguise himself while still protecting his town. Summary: Danny finally has to cosplay as himself while trying and failing to seem like a regular human.
No warnings apply. Let Danny say fuck
“Oh hey would you look at that. Isn’t this just dandy. I absolutely love it. Just fabulous”, Danny grumbles as he repeatedly tries and fails to transform into Phantom while staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Eventually tossing his hands up he opts to head back to his room.
Grumbling as he goes to fetch his hey-look-it’s-Phantom emergency box. Complete with a well-made jumpsuit, white wig, green contacts and sunglasses. “Honestly, I’m amazed it took 4 years for this bullshit to happen”, he doesn’t even bother trying it all on, knowing full well it all already fits. He tried it all on as soon as he got it all. “My glow is the only thing I can’t replicate, but of all the things why would anyone notice that”, he slips his replica jumpsuit on and then puts his regular clothing over top. Green wife beater, black military pants, black leather jacket and white doc martins. He opts for full black gloves rather than his usual fingerless gloves, to hide his white jumpsuit gloves. Looking himself over in the bedroom mirror, “yeah this'll do”. He shoves the wig and sunglasses in his bag, “it’s not like I can speed put on contacts so just my sunglasses will have to do for any emergency changing”. With that he hops down the stairs to have a quick breakfast before heading to school. On his bus ride there, because it’s just not worth the risk or effort to “change”, he thinks back on how this utter crap came to be.
—flashback—
“Why don’t you give it a rest boxy? This is what? The eighth time today? Do I really have to keep shipping you off?”, Danny sighs as he shoots yet another ectoblast at The Box Ghost. “NEVER GHOST BOY! FOR MY FEARSOME MIGHT SHALL HAUNT YOU ALL!”, The Box Ghost shouts as he throws three boxes at Danny, which Danny easily dodges. Floating sideways, Danny sighs into his hand as he uncaps his thermos, “you need a time out”, as he sucks The Box Ghost in yet again. Not even two seconds after tucking his thermos away he gets coated in green goo. “What in the-”, he gets cut off by Jack excitedly yelling. “Look Mads! I got him!”, Maddie runs up and hugs him before speaking while Danny mutters “Oh fuck”.
“Congrats honey! Now that filthy ectoplasmic scum can’t bother Amity any more! It won’t even be able to leave the GZ!”, Danny barely hears the end of Maddie’s praising of Jack as he just fucking runs; realising he’s turned back to Fenton unintentionally. He dashes inside a bathroom praying to all high hells that the goo covered his appearance, “holy shit, thank Phantom”. Danny pants as he starts wiping off all the goo. “Well either this doesn’t work or its not supposed to hurt. Which is hella weird for my parents”, shaking his head, he gives himself a pat-down making sure nothing looks wrong. “Ok...other than suddenly transforming, nothing is off. Like at all”, sticking his head out the bathroom, he looks around before ducking into an alley. Peaking around the corner he sees his parents following the trail of goo muttering all the while.
“I just don’t get it Jack, the ghost boy should have dissolved from that?”
“And I’m sure all the calculations were right! Maybe that one really is different from all the others?”
“That’s the only explanation we’ve got, for now”
Danny watches his mother shake her head as the couple head back to the RV, “they were tying to dissolve me?”. Blinking a couple times he gives himself another pat down, this time looking for even a hint of melting. “Well I guess I’ll chalk this up to the wonders of being a halfa, for now”, he opts to just walk home because he really doesn’t want to risk any possible melting.
He’s feeling pretty darn good by the time he gets home, so he decides fuck it and tries transforming in his room. Watching himself in the bedroom mirror and still looking completely human, “well fuck me sideways. Fuck me up and down, side to side, and against a wall”. Shaking his head, “well hopefully I can sleep this off, maybe I just need to recharge”. With that he flops down for a nights, hopefully peaceful, rest.
—return to the present—
He’s done his reminiscing by the time he’s at school. Walking up to his locker he sees both Sam and Tucker waiting for him, “well hello guys, isn’t today just fucking peachy”. Sam raises her eyebrow while Tucker snickers, “what happened to you dude? Waking on the wrong side of the GZ? Skulker steal your favourite blankets?”. Sam smirks, “Lunchlady steal all your cereal, again?”. Danny groans and slams his head into his locker before opening it, muttering all the while, “I fucking wish, I got doused in goo stuff and now”. Danny finishes his statement by pulling his shirt collar down enough for them to see his replica suit. “Dude, what? That’s got to be the backup, otherwise you’re are scary fast with hair dye. So what you can’t change? Dude that bites”, Danny groans even louder as he nods, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, after showing them the wig and glasses inside, since he needs to keep it with him for now.
Sam sighs, “well do you even know if you can still use any of your frying Pan stuff?”. Danny shrugs and rubs his neck awkwardly, “I guess that would be a good idea to check but my thermos is fine. So if I got to then I got to”. Sam shakes her head, “just use a damn wrist ray you idiot. Where’d the goo even come from?”. Danny groans again as they start heading to class, “parents, who else? Apparently, it was supposed to dissolve ghosts. Stuff didn’t even sting”. Danny looks around quickly and decides to just shoot Kwan’s laces with an ectobeam. After looking quite content with himself he blows imaginary smoke off his fingertip at Sam, who rolls her eyes at him before snickering, “well look at the bright side then Danny, at least you can still use your powers”. Danny smacks a hand on his chest in annoyance, “Yeah well now I have to go around pulling a damn superman if shit happens during the day”. Tucker scoffs at him and glares judgingly, “dude, learn your superheroes. I’m pretty sure you’ll be putting on, not taking off a pair of glasses”. Danny rolls his eyes as he takes his seat in front of Tucker, “fine, Spider-Man, happy?”. Tucker gives a smug nod as Mr. Lancer walks in. While Danny mutters under his breath, “Oh go eat grass, Tuck”.
It doesn’t take Danny long to realise there’s a bit of a problem, well more of a problem than there already was. As he’s noticing that he keeps having to force himself not to straight up float above his chair, instead of staying sitting in it. By the time first class is over he’s heard basically nothing in lue of focusing on not being a floaty boy and outing himself, which he failed at multiple times but went unnoticed. “So uh, I think this is even more of straight up piss and litter than I thought”, Danny groans to Sam and Tucker. “You aren’t going to just straight up suddenly change in class are you?”, Sam is more genuinely worried now. Danny shakes his head, “I don’t think so but I actually had to force myself not to float. Like how it is when I am frying Pan”. Tucker slaps Danny on the chest, “dude, maybe that shit like gave you full access as screaming Fan”. Danny glares at Tucker, “I fucking hope not Tuck, using shit is way too easy and basically second nature as frying Pan. It’ll be almost as bad as when I first got this shit but with more floating and at full strength”. Sam groans but also snickers a bit, “well hopefully everyone’s just as oblivious as 4 years ago”. As Tucker and Danny sits down for their second class, Danny mutters, “with my luck? Fuck that”.
Again, Danny spends most of the class focusing on not floating and being in general paranoid that his eyes might change colour. He, however, doesn’t get to do this through third class, as his ghost sense goes off half way through. “Oh fuck me, this is just fucking perfect. If this is boxy I will end him”, Danny mutters to himself as he just straight up walks out of class. He stopped bothering putting his hand up or asking to go, 2 years ago; he’d just leave whenever. Much to the annoyance of teachers but they knew he would leave anyway, so this was less of a distraction for the people who actually wanted to be there. Lancer was the only one who even still bothered to write down his sudden leaving, tardies or skipped classes, as he was the only who didn’t consider Danny a lost cause.
Once out of class Danny books it to the bathroom and speed changes, ripping off his clothing and phasing them into the ceiling. Yanking on the glasses and wig, he easily floats through the ceiling. Looking around he finds its Technus, “alright, I guess you’re my outlet for aggression on this fucking fine day”. Technus can see that Danny is not in the best mood but also notices his lack of glow, “ha! Ghost child you are weakened! You do not posses your healthy glow! But I Technus! Suffer no such weakness! For I-”, Technus is cut off as Danny just punches him in the face. “Hot tip techy, I’m never weak!”, Danny jeers as he ectoblasts apart the old computer Technus is holding, which he's sure is a discarded one from the library. Technus looks at his hands sadly before shouting, “it is no matter ghost child! For I will-”. Getting cut off again as he didn’t even see Danny float up to him and shoot him point blank. “You really should use your eyes”, Danny sighs as he sucks in Technus.
Danny shakes the thermos as he floats back into the bathroom, “well thank Phantom that was fast, and look at that! Totally god damn empty bathroom, nice”. Danny gets his stuff and changes back, but opts to just sit in the bathroom since there’s only 5 minutes left of class. He decides it’s probably best to test each of his not super destructive powers, to make sure they all work and to what level. “And that’s body manipulation. Well I’m not sure if I should be pleased or annoyed. All my powers seem to be functioning at full Phantom strength”, rubbing his eyes, “which while great for ghost fights, is not great for seeming like a normal fucking human”. Groaning he gets up and walks to the mirror just before the bell rings. Focusing his eyes, he tried to make them green with no luck, “well damn, still stuck with glasses it seems”. Tossing his hands up he phases out the bathroom door, stops and blinks, “Oh fuck”. Looking around he quickly determines no one saw shit and heads to his fourth class before lunch.
By fourth class, he’s feeling rather wiped, “so I’ve learned trying to force myself to be fucking regular while all frying Pan is not god damn fun”. Tucker chuckles as Danny slams his head against the table, “pretty sure you’re screaming Fan dude”. Which earns him an ectobeam to the knee, as Danny mutters into the table, “outside of looks, no I am not, might as well be frying Pan dressed up as screaming Fan”. Danny then snickers into the table, “I’m literally cosplaying myself, in two different ways”.
“Well if it isn’t Fentit? What you need your mommy to sing you a bedtime story so you can have a little nap?”, Dash comes up jeering, but Danny is just not having it so he doesn’t even bother lifting his head up as he flips Dash off. “Wow, you really do need a nap. Maybe this’ll help”, Dash goes to drop a textbook on Danny’s head but Danny straight up grabs Dash’s arm and strong man flings him over the table. All the while never even lifting his head up or moving anything other than one arm/hand, “I didn’t break him right?”. Sam and Tucker pat him on the shoulders, “all you broke was his ego. Which honestly should be shattered at this point”. Tucker nods, agreeing with Sam, “yeah with the number of times you’ve completely owned him, you’d think he’d give up”. Tucker looks down at Dash as he gets up and grumbles. As Dash walks away Danny can hear him bitterly mutter, “Why doesn’t freak turd just try out for football already”.
Thankfully, there isn’t anymore ghost that day as the final bell sounds. Meeting Sam and Tucker by his locker, “so let me guess, you want both of us to come over, help you figure out what slimed you and how to undo it?”. Danny slowly turns his head and gives Sam an over the top no-fucking-shit face. As Star approaches the trio, “ok, I don’t know what your deal is but the boys egos are too far up their asses so I’m just going to ask you”, the trio waits as Star stops inspecting her nails and puts a hand on on her hip before continuing. “Football try-outs are tomorrow, you are clearly packing muscle so be there, kay?”, Danny blinks a few times before responding. “Uh I ain’t much of a sports guy and do you seriously think I know the first thing about that”, Star shrugs as she walks off. Waving and looking over her shoulder, “just be there, doesn’t matter if you don’t know shit”. Once she’s out of sight Danny tilts his head back and groans, “Oh come on, I get it, but come on”. Tucker snickers as he pats his flat but not muscular stomach, “ah the joys of not being completely fucking ripped”. Sam smiles somewhat sympathetic, “I’m amazed it took them so long, you’re over 7 foot and a literal wall of muscle that knows no fear”. Danny throws his hands up, “except one fear! The fear of being caught, which will be kind of hard to avoid if I fucking break someone in a damn game!”. Sam and Tucker can’t help but laugh at their friends distress as they leave school.
They are treated by Maddie as soon as they get to Danny’s, “well hello kids! Always a pleasure to have you over. You’ll have to mind the mess though, we’re trying to figure out why the Fenton gooster didn’t work”. The three nod as they step over a couple screwdrivers on the floor. “Uh so since there’s such a mess what is it this time?”, Danny asks as he recognises the odd rooster-shaped gun as the one that shot him. He’s gotten a lot better over the years to make it a point to know what anything new is. “Well it was supposed to dissolve ghosts, sweetie. Make it so they can’t hold a physical form and thus can’t leave the GZ. But that didn’t seem to happen with Phantom”, Maddie shakes her head confused before continuing, “but don’t you worry sweetie we’ll find away to keep those scum from coming here”.
Danny gives an awkward nod as the three go to his bedroom, “well shit, no way I can get my hands on it or it’s plans if they’re working on it”. Tucker taps his chin thoughtfully as Sam turns on the tv loud enough that they won’t be overheard, “well I think it’s safe to say you can’t be frying Pan because your ectoform or ghost form can’t physically manifest. Which is probably causing all your frying Pan ectoplasm to be more intermingled or whatever in you”. Danny groans as he flops on his bed, “which hopefully only comes with the negative side effect of having complete access to my ghost everything while still being screaming Fan”. Sam nods a bit worried, “it’s probably best you don’t stay like this for long. Who knows what else could happen from you being all half dissolved”. Danny nods as the three set to work trying to figure out how to get either the plans or the gun.
Eventually, they settle on getting them to chase Phantom and hoping they leave everything else behind, like they usually do when caught up in the hunt. “Whelp, this will either be really stupid or you guys have an hour”, with that Danny gets changed, contacts included, and flies out the wall. Making a point to fly right past the kitchen window, “look Mads he can even still fly! Maybe if we trap him we can figure out why?”, Maddie shrugs as she followers her excitable husband out the door. Even Sam and Tucker hear her mutter, “I’m pretty sure he’s uncatchable, untraceable and possibly immune to every anti-ghost thing at this point”. The two wait all of five minutes before racing over to the gun and plans, looking them over with feverish haste. Doesn’t take Tucker long to smirk, “well this won’t actually be all that hard though Danny is going to be pretty peeved”. Sam looks up from the gun she is intentionally rigging to not work, “let me guess, he’s stuck for a while?”.
Tucker nods just as Danny phases up through the floor, “you two better have shit because for once in my life I have the unfortunate pleasure of sports in the morning. And sleep is a thing, so?”. Tucker and Sam make quick work of putting everything back as they found it and bolting upstairs with Danny as Tucker talks, “it’s fixable dude, probably take me an hour at best. Just need a few things from the lab but dude, it’s gonna take sometime to put your ghostliness back together”. Danny groans has he grabs Tucker and phases them into the lab, “well explain and grab shit. How long we talking?”. Tucker quickly moves around the room gathering random things, hoping to be out of here before the Fenton’s come home, “three days, then you’ll be all Phantom again. Well not all, just half; your norm. Till then”, Tucker gestures at the floating Danny dressed up as Phantom, “this”. Danny groans again as he phases Tucker back upstairs. Tucker’s already half done what looks like a cocktail drink by the time the Fenton’s get back.
Tucker has to hide the thing when Maddie comes up and offers them some cookies, “I know you kids are nearly grown but everyone has room for cookies and you two should really head home soon”. The three all thank Maddie as she leaves. The cookies are pretty much all gone by the time Tucker is done, “dude, shits done man. Can’t tell if it tastes good though, so fucking cheers man”. Danny groans as he basically just shoots it, “yeah that was not horrible but I’d rather not. Really I’d rather not with all this”. Sam snickers, “ah the life of a halfa who won’t man up and tell his family”. Earning a glare from Danny as they say their goodbyes, “and Danny dude, you know we will be there. Watching you likely scare some freshmen and break something”. Danny just grumbles as he heads to bed.
Danny gets exactly an hour and a half of sleep before his ghosts sense wakes him up. “Oh for fucks sake”, Danny mutters as he throws on his wig and glasses, flying out the window.
It is once again, Technus, “dude why?”. Technus spreads his arms out as he summons a swarm of electronic dogs to attack Danny. “Well this is just roof”, Danny spins sideways and then promptly gets his glasses knocked off by a dog. He just sadly watches them fall and get crushed by the wave of dogs, “well shit, dog shit”. By the time Danny has dealt with Technus, again, he’s missing bits of his hair on top of the ruined glasses. Flying lazily into his bed, he doesn’t even bother with pjs.
The first thing Danny does in the morning is check over his powers and try to transform, “Yup, still the same utter bullshit. I lowkey want to fucking die”. Grumbling all the while he puts on basically the same thing as yesterday, having never even taken off his duplicate jumpsuit. “I’m going to have to hide all this shit in the locker room ceiling, pretty sure trying to wear a jumpsuit under gym clothes would be grade A dumb”, Danny shakes his head and hopes that like usual there are no ghosts early morning. Heading downstairs for a quick waffle, Jack spots him, “well you’re up early son, reason?”. Danny shrugs as he puts in the waffles to cook, “pretty much got forced into football tryouts because I’m just too nice to say no when asked, apparently”. Jack beams and pats Danny on the back, “well I can’t say I’m surprised, you’re built for it. I also can’t say I know how you became so muscular”. Danny chuckles, sticking the waffles in his mouth as he leaves; leaving Jack to contemplate Danny’s fitness alone.
Tucker and Sam are two of many people sitting in the stands watching hopefuls and one not-so-hopeful tryout. Danny promptly changes out of his jumpsuit and puts everything into the ceiling; changing into shorts, black under armour leggings, runners and keeping his green wife beater on. Danny knows he’ll get some surprises looks because no ever really sees him uncovered at all, “I’d look fucking stupid if I went out in a fucking leather jacket”.
Unsurprisingly Danny is the tallest and most filled out guy there, he also does indeed get stared at. Overhearing Dash, who’s scouting the talent, “well damn he actually showed and Christ he’s more muscular then I thought. I’ll have to tell Kwan to thank Star”. The coach yells for everyone to shut up and listen, “all right you scraps of meat, to be frank we need anyone who is capable of actually doing anything and taking hit. So if you aren’t practically dead you’re on the team”. Danny can’t help but snicker and mutter, “I came here half dead”. The coach smirks, “then maybe you’ll take hits better”, then turning to everyone she points behind her and shouts, “now run 40-yards!”. Danny is mildly surprised at it being such a short distance but he can’t say he really cares, “the only reason I’m even putting any effort here is cause it’s my last year and I was asked more or less nicely”. Though he is practically chanting “don’t do anything ghostly”, in his head the entire time. Surprising no one really, except some freshmen, Danny finishes first and doesn’t even look like he’s ran anything at all. As he stands there and gives a lazy yawn, while stretching his arms out a bit. Dash can’t help but stare at the arms that had just yesterday flipped over a damn table, “I seriously want to know how the fuck that happened”.
The test for athletic ability and agility go pretty much the same, Danny doing everything with ease and feeling almost kind of sad at how easy it is. If anything he’s found focusing on not just straight up flying his way over obstacles to be harder. By the time they get to hitting and throwing ability, half have been cut. Danny can’t help but mutter, “ok this is sad, I’m not even striving to get accepted and these guys who are, can’t do shit”. Danny is then reminded how damn good the coaches hearing is, as she replies to him, “yup, it’s the same every year. But if I remember correctly, you used to be one of the worst”. Danny blinks, a little surprised to get a response and praise, before shrugging, “have you seen my dad? I got his height but not his diet”. The coach slams him on the back, “nonsense! You don’t get muscles from genetics! Whatever it is you do, keep doing it”. Danny smirks at this, knowing full well he never will stop. While the coach goes back to addressing the whole, much smaller, group, “all right pipsqueaks and people with actual potential! Time to see if you take a hit or actual throw shit!”. Danny is honestly nervous for this because he’s almost certain he’ll break something or someone. “Now because we have shit for money, you get no tackle bots. So you’ll just be tackling into each other, if you’re going to die leave school property”, which again makes Danny snicker. “Little too late for that”.
Thankfully for the other students, the coach isn’t a complete sadist and pairs Danny up against the other largest guy there. Danny feels rather sorry for the guy because if he can take rockets to the face and hundred foot falls into cement, there’s really not anything this eleventh grader can do. Danny, however, feels less sorry when the ass opens his mouth, “you’re that freak Fenton kid, what you going to do? Ball your eyes out as soon as someone slaps you? Muscle don’t mean shit when taking a hit”. Danny officially feels like being a bit of an ass to this guy so he lifts up his shirt, revealing the peppering of scars on his torso; “pal, I’ll be impressed if I feel the impact at all”. Even Dash manages to catch a glimpse of some of the scarring, “does Fenton fight or some shit? Because seriously, how the fuck did that happen”. As the coach blows her whistle, Danny has to physically restrain himself from straight punching the guy or shooting him, as he charges at Danny. Danny charges back only seconds after, since he’s more focused on not blowing the kids head off than charging. Unsurprisingly, the other dude gets promptly slammed into the ground. Danny blinks a little, he’s not used to opponents going down so easily, turning around, “seriously? That’s it? Okay...”.
The now embarrassed guy attempts to punch Danny in the stomach to at least save a little face, “dude, do you want fucking pain or something?”. Is all Danny has to say as the guy promptly yanks his hand backs and shakes it out from the impact, which Danny didn’t even flinch from. A couple other guys around start laughing but the coach gets an idea, she wants to see just what this once punny kid could take. “I want all of you to tackle Fenton, if you make him go down you’re on the team”, with that everyone’s eyes light up as they turn on Danny. Danny though a little off guard isn’t really bothered, he’s pretty sure a bunch of High-schoolers is easier than a bunch of ghosts. He’s completely right, as he lifts the last guy still trying, up with his peck and flings him off. Rubbing his neck, “Uh, yeah, sorry, not happening”. Tucker and Sam laugh their asses off from the benches, pretty well positive that Danny’s idea of human levels of strength is completely skewed.
One of the guys shakes his head at the built as hell Fenton kid, “pal, you could crush a man’s head and never notice it”. Danny rubs his neck and shrugs, “you’re not wrong”. Dash comes up all excited and friendly for once, “Why the hell have you been holding out on us, Fenton?”. Danny just glares, “because you guys are dicks? And never asked? Sports ain’t my thing anyways”. The coach shakes her head, “even if you couldn’t throw for shit you’d be worth having to protect those who can throw and to tackle the enemy”. Danny just shrugs, “you’re not wrong but, like, I’ll be more focused on not breaking someone than winning”. Dash rolls his eyes, “that would just teach them not to mess with you? Why wouldn’t you exert that kind of power?”. Earning a harsh glare from Danny, “because I’m not like you and I’m actually a good guy”. Dash just grunts at this as the coach snaps for everyone to start throwing balls.
When it’s Danny’s turn he has to focus on throwing the ball and not an ectoblast, he does end up ectoburning the ball though, “well shit, hopefully no one questions that”. No one actually does and with that everything is wrapped up and Danny, surprising no one, makes the cut.
Danny joins up with Sam and Tucker for class as he waves bye to what is essentially his teammates now. “So I’m definitely still fucked up, but no one seemed to catch the burnt ball so whatever. Not my fucking problem anymore, now I’m going to get changed before my luck runs out”, the two snicker at him as he heads to the lockers.
Danny manages to get his shit and change uninterrupted, but as he’s going to leave Kwan suddenly appears, “dude, that was sick! We’re so going to pummel literally everyone! Anyways, we already made you a jacket because we’re not as stupid as Dash seems”. Danny shakes his head as Kwan leaves, though realising he froze some of the ground when Kwan came out of nowhere, “really? Oh, come on”. Danny quickly melts the ice before heading out and at the sight of the jacket he’s caring, Sam and Tucker’s snickering returns.
Danny just rolls his eyes at them but knows full well it would be insulting to not wear the thing. So he does change into it when no ones looking, “this looks fucking weird on me, I am impressed it actually fits though”. Sam smacks his arm, “well don’t set it on fire too soon, I doubt they want to replace it every week”.
First class goes pretty well the same until one of the football players that didn’t watch tryouts thinks Danny’s jacket wasn’t earned, “why you wearing that freak? Think you’ll get accepted just by wearing one?”. Danny just glares down at the boy from his seat, “something tells me you weren’t there, if you really want the story just talk to Kwan. He gave me the jacket”. The dude clearly doesn’t believe him and actually goes to grab Danny, which he reacts to on instinct. Grabbing the guys arm and yanking him to the ground, ectoburning the guys jacket and his own gloves in the process. This gets the teachers attention as she snaps for both of them to sit down. Danny mutters to himself, “huh, didn’t get in trouble. Power of the jacket I guess...god that is so elitists”. However, that was not why, as Danny soon finds out.
As soon as class is over the teacher asks to talk to him, Danny mutters as he walks up, “well fuck me”. The teacher looks Danny straight in the eyes and asks, “care to explain what was up with your eyes?”. Danny just blinks a couple times, “Uh what?”. The teacher shakes his head, “they were green and glowing. I know there’s some crazy shit at your house so I’ll assume that’s why. But I’d like an actual answer”. Danny blinks again and mutters “oh fuck, of all the shit times for something to come back to my more or less normal” in his head, “hotdogs literally come to life sometimes, so you pretty well said the explanation. Ectocontamination just shows more if someone’s angry or startled”. The teacher simply nods and waves Danny off. Third period doesn’t go much better as he accidentally freezes and explodes a bunch of test tubes. Resulting in multiple girls screaming and running out, a couple of dudes yelp. “Mr. Fenton, I would prefer if only ghosts caused explosions, not my students too”, at which Danny just rubs his neck sheepishly. After that he completely misses the rest of school as he has to pull another emergency Phantom switch.
“Seriously Skulker, what is that? An overgrown hacksaw?”, Danny shakes his head at the unusual and kind of disappointing weapon. Skulker grins as he makes a move for Danny but Danny easily bats away the weapon, however Skulker promptly knocks him on the side of the head. Knocking his wig off which Danny madly scrambles for, “dude, not the hair. For once I actually give a shit about it”. Skulker just stares at him and tilts his head to the side, “ok I know you have not been wearing a wig for the past years, so what?”. Danny shrugs, “parents trying to dissolve ghosts again. So now I get the fun of cosplaying my fucking self. Horray for me!”. Skulker shakes his head and continues his assault, which has gained some onlookers; namely the Fenton’s.
“How in the hell? It looks as if he was completely unaffected?”, Jack shakes his head but Maddie slaps his arms excitedly. “No Jack! He’s not glowing! And he’s wearing sunglasses! We must have done something! No clue what though”, Maddie shakes her as she prepares the second model of the gun. “I would really like to know why all our stuff stops working right after using it on Phantom too. It’s really annoying to have to start building duplicates”, Maddie shakes her head while her husband smiles. “At least we know this one works! Tested it on some of those ectopusses!”, he finishes speaking just as Skulker and Danny both get drenched.
“OH COME THE FUCK ON!”, Danny snaps angrily at the goo before shouting at Skulker. “Don’t get this shit on you! You fucking tin man! Thermos now!”, Skulker promptly just follows Danny’s orders because he’s learned to tell when Danny’s not fucking around. “You’re parents are a problem ghost child!”, Skulker yells as Danny sucks him in. Danny stares down at his confused parents, who really just want to know why nothing works on him, he then throws his hands up in the air angrily as he goes to sulk in a tree.
“Fuck my entire existence, fuck my life and fuck my death”, after Danny knows Tucker will be home he flies straight into the boy’s bedroom, arms crossed.
“Sweet fucking Plasmius dude!”, Tucker yelps as he jumps off his bed and then throws a towel at the goo-covered Danny. “Care to take. One fucking guess what this is Tuck? Just one fucking guess?”, Danny just lets the towel smack into his face not even attempting to catch it. Tucker just sighs and digs up a second batch of the cocktail, “looks like your parents have finally learned the rules of making goddamn backups”. Danny just mutters as he cleans himself off, “this is the worst joke of my half-life”. Tucker chuckles as Danny flies home, knowing full well the wig and costume will have to be washed all night.
As soon as Danny gets home he goes straight to the bath and tosses everything in, “thank Phantom I got the expensive kind, this shit I can actually clean”. Lifting the cleaned off suit he shakes his head at it, “it’s been two days and this thing is already shredded, how the fuck is it going to last three more fucking days”. With a new appreciation for his real suits natural healing, Danny promptly goes to bed.
Danny’s morning starts out pretty good, he’s well rested and all dressed. As Danny goes to have breakfast, however, his dad barges in with the once again fixed Fenton gooster. “Why does that look like a rooster anyways?”, Danny can’t help but be curious. His dad shrugs, “that’s just what happened son, no need to question creative genius”. With that Jack slams the device on the table causing it to accidentally go off and coat Danny, once again, in goo. Danny sits there with his mouth open about to take a bit of his sandwich, he slowly closes his mouth and puts the sandwich gently on his plate. Danny starts out speaking slowly and calmly, “dad, I mean this with all love and affection. But, could you, stop, FUCKING SPRAYING ME WITH GOO!”, Danny’s sudden angry shout makes Jack jump. Jack blinks at Danny as Danny slowly pulls out his phone, who’s more focused on not crushing it than Jack’s reaction, “hey Tuck, do you, by chance, HAVE A THIRD FUCKING ONE!”. Jack again jumps, not used to ever seeing anger from his son unless it’s Christmas.
Danny snaps his phone closed slowly, wipes off his sandwich and eats it while glaring daggers at the rooster-shaped gun. Jack stands there watching his clearly pissed off son angrily eat a sandwich, not even bothering to wipe off the goo. “Uh, could I maybe clean your jacket and shirt off? Also, it’s uh, awesome you made the team”, Danny glares harder at the gun, and puts down what’s left of his sandwich. “Fuck it, sure thing, just don’t fucking spray me with goo, fuck me, just like fuck all of me”, Danny just straight up makes his stuff intangible falling off onto the floor, with his clean but ripped replica jumpsuit clearly visible. Danny doesn’t even acknowledge his stunned dad, as he angrily finishes his sandwich. Getting up slowly he puts his plate in the dishwasher, slowly turning to his dad who’s starting to come out of shock, “welcome to the joke of the century”.
End.
#phic phight#phic phight 19#Danny Phantom#phantom#fan fic#phan phic#danny fenton#Tucker Foley#sam manson#kwan#star#dash baxter#phantomphangphucker#have a fic suck my dick#team human#jack fenton#Maddie Fenton
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It’s a hard life (Roger Taylor x reader) - Part 5
Summary: you talk with Mike, he talks with the boys and you sleep with him again.
Warnings: a little bit of swearing and lot of fluff as always.
Notes: as usual thanks for reading it! You don’t know how much it means to me. Please tell me is something is wrong written, you know and let me know what you think! Love you all 💛
“Look, Mike… I know I shouldn’t-”
“I’m only going to tell you one thing” That I’m out, obviously… “You are not allow to have sex in this bus”
“W-what?” That wasn’t what you were expecting.
“[y/n], I don’t care if you two want to have fun together because I want you to enjoy this tour but…”
“Wait! Aren’t you going to send me back home?”
“What? No! Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know…”
“There isn’t any rule that says that you can’t have… you know… “business” with the guys”
“Business?” You laugh. “Ok”
“You understand me. You are doing an excellent job here, although being late sometimes, and I like you. So, as long as you keep working hard you can do whatever you want with your spare time, alright?”
“Alright” You smiled at him. “Can I give you a hug?”
“Wouldn't be Roger jealous?” He smiled back. “Come here”
You hugged him tightly. “I really thought you were going to be mad at me”
“Oh, c’mon! A little bit of fun is always great, but remember… no sex here”
“Yes, yes” You winked at him.
“Now, I’m going to see if we are ready to go” And he left while you sat on the sofa thinking about everything that just happened.
He didn’t take long to return and seconds after you were on the road again. He was driving, you were trying to sleep without success. Luckily, you would arrive to the next destination in just a couple of hours and you hopped you could sleep better without the movement.
--------------
“I’ve talked with her about last night”
“Really? That’s great! What did she said?”
“What are you talking about, darlings?”
The four boys were laying on sofas of the bus but without planning on sleeping till they arrive to the hotel.
“You’d know if last night you wouldn’t have ended up sleeping drunk in the village church”
“Don’t remind me that, please”
“Oh, c’mon, Brian, you have to recognize that we had fun”
“Sure, Fred. Specially this morning when the priest has made us confess our sins before let us leave”
John and Roger were laughing at this point. “I would have love to see that”
“Me too, Deacy. Me too…”
“Shut up, you idiots”
“You shouldn't insult us now that you are just confessed”
“Rog… I hate you”
“God teaches us not to hate people, Brian”
“If you two don’t shut up now I’m going to punch you”
“Wow, physical violence is a big sin” Roger added still laughing.
“You… you… bah” He covered his face with his arms.
“C’mon, stop it, let’s talk about your night! What happened?” Fred’s gossip side was very curious about it.
“Roger will tell you, he remembers perfectly”
“I hate you” He sat on the sofa to look at Freddie’s face directly. “The short version is that I was very drunk”
“Very, very drunk” John added.
“Yes… And the thing is that I told [y/n] that I like her”
“Oh, darling, that’s fantastic! I knew you liked her since you told us that she was going to come to play Scrabble with us, that shine in your eyes wasn’t normal”
“Yes… I guess it was obvious for all of you” He blushed a little bit.
“And what did she told you?” Brian spoke without removing his arms from his face.
“That we should talk about it when I was sober”
“And…”
He took a deep breath. “And I went to see her before because my hands are a mess again and…” He did a dramatic pause.
“Oh Rog, c’mon!” Brian was now looking at him impatiently as the rest of the group.
“She likes me too” He smiled like a fool at the memory.
“Yes! I told you!” John gave him a pat on the back.
“Congrats, honey. Now try not to screw it up”
“Yes… about that… I’m scared” He now look like if he was a little child.
“Hey…” Brian stretched out an arm so he touch her leg. “We aren’t going to allow that happen”
“Exactly, love! If you really like her we are going to be there by your side to make things work, ok?”
“And what if I get drunk and…?”
“We take care of you” John added.
“And maybe if she is the right one you won’t even think about it, Rog. Just give you a chance”
“Brian is right, it’s normal to feel scared at first when you are in love” Fred pointed out.
“Maybe you are right… God, love is a shit!”
“Tell that to her” John said making everybody laugh.
---------
“[y/n]?”
Damn… Now that I had fall asleep…
“What?” You shouted angrily.
“It’s me… Roger. I’ve talked with Mike and I know everything is fine. Can I come in?”
Oh… Fuck… Is him.
You stood as fast as you could and opened the door.
“Hi Rog” You smiled at him. “Sorry for the shout… I had just falling asleep and-”
“I don’t want you to sleep here” You didn’t say anything because of the shock of his words and he thought you didn’t like the idea so much and started panicking. “I mean… if you don’t mind I want you to sleep in my room because you are going to be more comfortable and-”
“Hey, hey…” You took his face gently. “There’s no need to get this nervous” He let out a sigh of relief and smiled at you. “You already invited me a few days ago, don’t you remember?”
“Did I?”
“Yes” You laughed. “The first time we met”
“Wow, I was fast!” Both of you were laughing now. “I remember you didn’t answer”
“I thought you weren’t talking seriously but, apparently, you were”
“So…”
“So… what?” You teased.
“You are mean to me, you know?”
“I just like teasing people, so get used to it”
“I think I can do that” He passed an arm around your waist and pulled you as closer to him as possible. “Would you like to sleep with me tonight, beautiful lady? With or without sex, that’s up to you” He winked at you and you felt your legs weak.
“You’re definitely too fast, Roger Taylor”
He laughed. “I’m just joking”
“Oh… what a pity…”
“What?” He was looking at you both shocked and with curiosity.
“I’m joking” You winked back to him.
He smiled again. “I see this is going to be very difficult”
“I never said it was going to be easy”
“Me neither. In fact, I only know that we apparently like each other but we haven’t talk about what we are going to do about it… I think we should talk things properly”
“Are you really Roger Taylor?” You started moving his head like if you were looking at him in detail. “You don’t seem the guy the papers say you are”
“Stop!” He take your wrists laughing and held your hands sweetly. “To be honest… I don’t know quite well who I am right now, a girl I’ve just met is making me feel weird”
“Weird? That’s very romantic, Roger”
“Shut up…”
You were there, in the door of the bus, holding hands and laughing like children. He suddenly took you face with one of his hands and started caressing your cheek. “How can you be this beautiful?
“Rog…” You were blushing more that you wish.
And he finally did it. He leaned forward his head and connected your lips while still moving his thumb against your cheek. It was the sweetest thing possible and you felt like touching the heavens.
“I wanted to do this so badly” He managed to said before kissing you again. “I like you so much, [y/n]... I never felt this way before…”
He was going to kiss you again but you stopped him, you wanted him to know that you were feeling the same.
“Rog, I-”
“Shhhh… You don’t have to say anything”
“But I want to! Roger, this is like a dream for me”
“Are you sure is not a nightmare?”
You both laughed.
“I am serious, I-”
“Hey… let’s talk about it tomorrow, ok? It’s late and we both need to rest. Let’s go to my bed, love.”
“Alright” You gave him a little kiss and follow him with a smile draw in your face.
-----------
“Are you going to sleep in your working clothes?”
Shit… You didn’t notice that you weren’t wearing a proper pajama till that moment.
“I fell asleep like this and somebody distracted me and I didn’t realize”
“You can sleep naked, you know. It’s not a problem for me” He winked at you.
“Or you can lend me one of your t-shirts” You winked back.
“I prefer the first option but…” He threw you one.
“Don’t look”
“Really?”
“Nah, I don’t really care” You laughed.
“Well I prefer not to because I know myself and I couldn’t resist making love to you”
“I wouldn’t say no…” Now that you had the opportunity you weren’t going to miss it.
“Wow… I didn’t expect that… Anyway, I have in mind something more romantic for our first time”
“What? Really? I’ve finished by the way, you can turn around”
“Yes, I- Jesus… You look so hot with my t-shirt…”
Your face turned red as wine. “Thanks”
He needed a minute or so to talk again. “Come here!” You lay on his bed and he immediately wrapped his arms around you. “You know you are going to kill me, right?”
“Rog?”
“Mmmm?”
“What do you have in mind for us?”
“You’ll see, don’t be impatient”
“I’m not impatient… just… curious”
“Yes, I’m really the impatient ” You both laughed.
“Good night, Rog” You took his hand and kissed it.
“Good night, love” He placed a little kiss in the back of your neck and you both fell asleep immediately, happier than ever.
Taglist: @onceuponadetectivedemigod @violetpond @onevisionliz @triggeredpossum 💛
#queen#queen band#roger taylor#roger taylor x reader#roger taylor x you#roger taylor fic#roger taylor imagine#fluff
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Complicated
Title: Complicated
Word count: 4651 (a lot, I know, I’m sorry)
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Summary: The hunt brings them together, the past comes back, the feelings are complicated.
Warnings: the mix of fluff and angst, fear of love, fear of talking about emotions and feelings, tension, blood, violence, fight, body harm, wounds, dead bodies, graphic description of all that. If I missed something, let me know!
A/N: This is my one shot for @jensengirl83 200 followers challenge. Congrats again, babe! You gave me a free hand and said to go crazy so here I am with almost 5k words, hahah. My prompt was “You look like hell. How did you get in such a mess?” I got kinda lost in the middle of this but somehow I managed to finish it and I’m sorry for posting it that late but yeah, life happened. I hope you’ll like it!
A/N: Huge thanks to my hunny bunny beta @winchest09 <3 The amount of patience you have for me, oh girl…
A/N: @talesmaniac89 thank you for those amazing dividers! <3
It was quiet when Y/N entered the building. The house was huge and old, wooden walls cracking every so often under the pressure of the wind. The night felt cold but single drops of sweat rolled down her neck. She adjusted the machete in her hand and scanned the large area of the first floor, flinching when something crunched under her boots. She looked down and noticed little crystals of broken glass glistening in the moonlight that creeped through the dirty window. The more she looked around, the more she acknowledged the details of the fight that had taken place right where she was standing. Damaged commode, planks strewn around, broken handrail and shattered glass.
Trying to find any clues, Y/N carefully eyed every inch of the room and frowned, spotting something next to the dusted armchair. Crouching down she touched it and with a small sigh discovered it was a red liquid.
Blood.
Rubbing her middle and index finger with her thumb, she noticed the blood was fresh; the person it belonged to was here a couple of hours ago. Hoping the victim was still alive, Y/N stood up, brushing lonely strands of her hair away from her face. The place seemed to be empty, silence pinching her ears; the vampire's nest was never that calm before. This made her stomach twist; something was wrong. It was like she made a mistake with the location, like no one was here but she was sure it’s the right place, it had to be. Suddenly a smell hit her and made her instinctively reach for the gun. Sulfur.
Nonsense. She was following vamps for weeks now. Was it possible that somehow she stepped on demons? Why here, why now?
She knew she should check the basement first but the blood tracks were leading upstairs. Old, dirty carpet covering the stairs was nearly soaked in it. The uneasy thought of finding a dead body crossed her mind and she swallowed thickly. Taking careful, quiet steps Y/N looked up to be ready in case something wanted to take her by surprise. She didn’t even make it to the first floor when she heard screams, muffled by the house. She rolled her eyes and cursed herself.
Basement, you idiot. It's always the basement.
Still quiet but faster now she came back downstairs, crossing the living room and after praying it won’t crack loud, she opened the door that led underground.
Angry voices reached her ears when she got to the concrete floor. Slowing down she tightened her grip on her weapon’s helve and moved forward, alert and tense.
“Where is it?!” The question was followed by the sound of a beating.
Weak laugh was barely audible but it tickled her in a weird way she couldn’t exactly name; like she heard it before.
“You think I’m gonna tell you?”
This voice. She stopped in her tracks, hidden behind the pillar holding the ceiling; listening, not believing what she had heard. Another punch, then the sound of spitting, probably with blood.
“You can beat the shit out of me but you’ll get nothing.” Her heart skipped a beat when she finally realised who this voice belonged to.
Dean.
Peeping from behind the pillar for a quick second, she noticed three, maybe four figures standing with their backs to her and a chair, bathed in a dim light of the bulb hanging above Dean’s head who was tied down.
Laying her head back, Y/N closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She had to be quick and effective; no second chances, no mistakes. Planning her moves she felt shivers running down her spine. Her hands fisted in irritation as she cursed the man she was about to save; no matter how much time had passed, when it was about saving his ass, she was always more concerned.
The moment she was all ready to jump and slice, ignoring the question of why fangs were keeping Dean, something in the dark corner caught her attention and stopped her. Narrowing her eyes Y/N focused on the pile laying on the ground. It took her few seconds but finally she saw it; bodies covered in blood, heads cut off, with open eyes and mouths that showed rows of sharp teeth.
Vampires.
Y/N’s breath quickened. If this bunch of dead bodies was what she was looking for then who the hell was beating Dean? Her mind wandered to the scent of sulfur she smelled before. It didn’t make any sense but there was no other option - they were demons. Putting away the machete, Y/N took out her gun. She had to figure something out. Hunting demons wasn't exactly in her schedule for tonight, all needed tools were in the car; suddenly she felt weirdly naked.
Before she could make any move, she heard steps coming from the stairs. She felt on edge, surrounded, surprised and put in a position where she had a harmed man to save. She was in trouble.
Light panic creeped into her as she searched for solution; eyes flicking around, landing finally on a little platform she could easily fit onto. Smirking at the idea, she changed the pistol for the crossbow on her back and took out the bottle with holy water she always carried with her. Y/N disappeared into the shadows before the approaching demons could see her.
Dean received yet another hit, straight in his jawline that was already swollen and pulsing. Spitting again he smiled; his teeth bloody, just like the rest of his face. Cut brow and lips, bruises already appearing, red streams coloring his freckled flesh. He could feel himself getting weaker; his head dizzy, muscles burning and his throat sore. Ropes on his wrists were so tight he was sure to find grey-blue marks later; if he ever gets out.
The demons surprised him, he was expecting bloodsuckers not those dusty assholes.
Apparently hell douches had some issues with twilight so they teared them into pieces; taking Dean’s job from under his nose. And now they thought he had some information but he knew shit - another aspect that annoyed him. He had no idea what was going on and what they wanted. But he acted like he did, hoping they would accidentally spill some tea.
“Where is it?!” The demon hissed again, squeezing Dean’s face, forcing him to look up. One of his fingers digged into the cut on the cheek, causing more blood to pour.
“Bite me.” Dean hissed back, giving the torturer a hard, confident look and an arrogant smile.
The man lifted his fist, ready to hit the hunter again and just then something cut through the air with a whiz. The demon yelled as white smoke started floating from where the arrow got stuck in his body, burning him. It took Dean aback; he frowned confused, watching the douchebag stumbling around as another arrow flashed in front of his eyes, wounding the next demon. One by one they all were getting shot; screaming and grunting they seemed to be so vulnerable now. Then, with the corner of his eye, Dean spotted someone jumping down from a platform. Maybe this was someone willing to help him.
It was too dark and Dean was too tired to focus on who it was but he knew they were a hunter for sure. The stranger moved fast, ably slicing the distracted demons. Using the machete the hunter cut their flesh; more smoke, more pain. Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from the limber moves, from the facility that the weapon was used with. Even though he was mesmerised, the person's behavior seemed to be oddly familiar; his brain registered something that it had seen before, more than once.
After a few final flips of the wrist, the demons had enough; their heads tilted back, mouths opened and a black smoke flew out of them, disappearing in the darkness. The room got silent; the only sound was heavy breathing - female heavy breathing as Dean tried his hardest to pinpoint who it was.
She was standing with her back to Dean, scanning the room, still alert and high on adrenaline from the fight. She felt her muscles rippling, hands twitching, her hammering heart pumped blood that was rushing in her veins, raising her temperature as she observed bodies laying on the floor. Wetting arrows and her blade with holy water was a quick, unsure idea but it worked; she just wished she could save those people.
A few deep breaths helped her to calm down. She tugged the weapon behind the belt and turned to the Winchester, revealing who she was. Dean’s eyes widened as he discovered the stranger's identity and his heart made a tiny jump.
Memories hit him immediately, pelting him with the amazing time he had three years ago. It wasn't something Dean admitted out loud but he admired the badass girl from the second he laid his eyes on her. They clicked on the fight field, understanding each other without a word, they spent a couple of irreplaceable nights in bars and motels, exchanging thoughts, dreams and experiences. Dean didn’t find in her just a buddy he never knew he needed but also someone he could open his soul to without worrying about anything. Seeing her now felt like he was thrown to the past by angels; the only difference was that now, he enjoyed the circumstances.
“Y/N,” he said slightly surprised, his hoarse voice making her lips curl in a smirk. "What are you doing here?"
"Long story. Let's say I'm having a trip around the neighbourhood," she answered and took a closer look at him.
His face was damaged; cut, painted with blood and bruises, swollen in a few places. His right arm was wounded, crimson stains covering his ripped shirt. He was sweaty and breathing heavily; livid skin under his tired eyes. It's been a long time since she saw him looking like he got hit by a truck.
"You look like hell. How did you get in such a mess?" she asked as she pulled out a knife.
"Long story. Let's say I tripped." He mirrored her words, making her chuckle and grunted when she cut off ropes on his wrists.
After hours in the same position Dean got numb so with every move a small, pained moan escaped him. Y/N helped him to get up on his legs which shook a little under him. Offering her shoulder he partly leaned on, she grabbed his waist and headed to the exit. Hearing Dean chuckle, she looked up and as she saw those soft dimples, her mouth curled upwards.
"What's so funny, Winchester?" she asked as they passed by the collection of dead vamps.
"You saved my ass again. It's humiliating." She laughed out loud, satisfaction filling her up.
"Then we both deserve a drink."
The gas station near the motel was their source of food and alcohol that night. Y/N bought two large hot dogs and four beers, thereupon went back to the room where she left Dean.
Opening the door she saw him sitting on the edge of the bed; showered and clothed in a fresh v-neck and sweatpants. Cuts still red and open but his face was clean and focused as Dean was trying to stitch his wounded arm. Y/N could see he was frustrated because of his still slightly trembling hands.
She put down the bag and approached him, taking his hands in hers.
"Hey, let me do it," she offered, sitting down next to him.
He gave up with an irritated huff and turned his eyes away, embarrassed by his current clumsiness. She looked at him for a second and then focused on the needle in her hand.
The silence fell between them; both lost in their thoughts, suddenly a little bit uncomfortable with each other. Y/N felt her tummy tightening and she swallowed, doing her best to not let her eyes wander, but it was in vain.
This man looked like he was straight from the cover of a magazine. From his strong arms that could easily crush her, through to his tanned skin with a constellation of adorable freckles she swore to count one day. To his calloused hands with long, thick fingers that could so deliciously travel across her body. His firm stomach hidden under the thin material of the t-shirt; the same stomach she had stitched in the past, the stomach she secretly wanted to scratch and kiss.
"Ouch," Dean's sudden hiss brutally detached Y/N from her thoughts and she understood she lost control over her hand, stinging his healthy skin.
"Sorry," she answered quickly.
Y/N knew things were going to be this way when her eyes met his green ones back in the basement. She knew that meeting him again would make her weak and she was right, nothing had changed. He still had the same influence on that he’s always had.
The huntress wasn't exactly a person who fell so easily; who would get wet without any sexual contact. Her heart wasn't such a sucker for feelings, her head wasn't so easily distracted. Yet with Dean it was different, and it was annoying because she didn’t have control over her own self.
Shaking her head, she finished the job and rolled down his sleeve as Dean cleared his throat.
"Thanks," he muttered and she shrugged with a small smile.
"Not a big deal, it's just stitching." She wanted to stand up but Dean stopped her by grabbing her hand.
Y/N skin was so soft under his fingertips, almost like silk. He knew it had a lot of scars and marks but that just made it more beautiful. Every little imperfection of hers was perfect for him; reminding him of the angel she was, fighting to save lives. Dean was always amazed by how she was a badass hunter and warrior but everytime she wasn’t cutting heads, she seemed so small, so tiny when he held her. His body and heart instinctively needed to protect her from the evil with everything he had.
His unsure, emerald eyes made Y/N frown, making Dean realise he froze with his fingers around her wrist, staring at her.
"Thank you for saving me," he said quietly and watched as her lips widened in a smile.
For a mere second he thought about how they could feel against him; warm and soft, moving in sync with his, followed by the sweet taste of her tongue. Blinking he pushed away those thoughts, glad she couldn’t read his mind. Familiar fear of her finding out flitted through him, stimulating his nerves. It was pathetic; a grown ass man was scared to say what he felt but in his case it wasn’t anything new.
"Always a pleasure to save a Winchester's ass," she said slightly amused and he rolled his eyes with a smile; this attitude. "Hungry?" she asked standing up but she already knew the answer.
"Starving." Pushing himself forward onto the bed, Dean leaned onto the headboard, stretching out his legs.
Taking a place next to him, she pulled out the food and drinks from her bag, receiving a pleasured "oh yes" from the hunter beside her.
They ate as they talked about what had happened in the last few years when they hadn't seen each other, recalling some events from the past and trying to understand what exactly had happened that day. With time and alcohol, the atmosphere loosened and they fully started to enjoy their mutual presence. Their laughs echoed in the room just like old times and for a moment it felt like they never separated.
By the time the birds started to sing outside, Y/N found herself in the same sitting position as Dean's, their arms brushing and legs briefly touching. She laughed as he talked about Sammy's drinking actions; she missed this giant, suddenly feeling the need to hug him.
"Um, listen…" he started and cleared his throat.
"Hmm?" Encouraging him, she took a sip from almost an empty bottle.
"It's actually good to see you," Dean mumbled as he rubbed his thumb on the glass he was holding. "I've missed you." She looked at him, her brows scrunching.
"Awww, Dean," she whined. "You gonna make me sob." The moment his eyes lifted up, she chuckled, trying to hide her smile in drinking.
"Shut up," he shot back with a grin. "I'm trying to be nice here." Shrugging he tilted the bottle and Y/N allowed herself to watch how his throat moved when he swallowed. Licking her lips she touched his hand, drawing his attention.
"I missed you too," she simply said and their eyes met.
But this time was different.
Maybe it was her slightly drunk mind, maybe it was the tiredness after a few days with not much sleep or maybe it was the usual dizziness she felt when she was with him. She didn’t know, but something stopped the time, erased everything around it and left only Dean.
He was so close she could see gold motes in the green ocean of his eyes; crystals shining so bright that every other stone was becoming a common rock in comparison. The eyes that could hypnotize you in a second and save you from darkness the next.
His unique smell surrounded her, warm vibrations radiating from his whole body and Y/N wasn't able to stop her mind when it created scenes she wished were real. Losing control over her imagination, his intense gaze turning off her rational thinking, she let her eyes drop to his lips and that was her mistake. Every time she yearned for him, dreaming about being his in every possible way, was nothing compared to what she felt now.
She was scared and confused because first, she thought she had gotten over this stupid love years ago and second, she didn't know why all those feelings were so strong now. She was always weak for him but not that weak.
Dean noticed when she swallowed, his own mouth watering. Allowing his emotions to take control of him wasn't exactly his style; especially not with her. But he felt his fingers itching and lips twitching when his mind focused on her. The soft features of her face, delicate, olive skin he would so gladly caress. Her pink lips, shaped like they were made for kissing; at least that's what he thought. The vision of her touching him the way those cheap one night stands did so many times, her warm body wrapping around him, slender palms mapping his every inch. It left him woozy, drunk on her.
The air was thick, their breathing quickened, pulse throbbing under the skin as their heartbeats thumped in their chests, little hairs standing up as goosebumps overlaid their bodies.
But even though it was strongly sexual, the heat so high it could burn the Earth, the thing hanging between them wasn't just physical attraction. Their hearts played the main role in the performance neither Dean nor Y/N thought of taking part in.
Years of admiration, of looking up to each other, of watching how the other person was just a good human being and then the break which made them realise how strong a connection they had; it made them fall for each other. But both of them were too scared to make a move, too blind to see the other wanted the exact same thing. So as soon as both their minds grew with the thought of leaning forward, they lowered their heads. Dean nervously scratched the back of his neck, feeling blush creeping up his skin as Y/N decided to sooth her trembling insides with the rest of beer.
Exchanging awkward smiles they unconsciously allowed their fears to win yet another battle. Knowing so well they wanted to taste the love but being too afraid of its power. To say their relations were complicated was an insult.
“So what do you think happened there? What did those demons want?” Y/N asked the next evening as they packed.
“No idea,” Dean answered, closing his bag. “But I’m about to find out. Sam is already digging, trying to find anything and I’m going back there tonight.” She turned around to look at him, frowning.
“What for?”
“They smashed up the place before I got there,” he lifted the bag and headed to the door, “maybe they missed something.”
“You think the fangs had whatever they were looking for?” Crossing her arms Y/N leaned back on the table. Dean shrugged, opening the door. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Woah, woah,” he stretched his hand forward, stopping her, “you’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.” She looked at him with lifted brows and upon noticing he was not joking she huffed a short laugh.
“What?” the question was filled with amusement that rose up in her. He must be kidding.
“You’re staying here or going to Sam if you wanna help,” he stated and walked out to the Impala that was parked in front of the motel room. She looked at the empty space he stood in seconds ago, confused, with her arms open in a silent question.
“Wh- Dean!” she yelled and followed his tracks. “Are you kidding me? I’m not gonna stay behind!”
“Yes, you are.” He closed the truck of the black, muscle car. “This case stinks from miles, Y/N, it’s too dangerous.”
“Too dangerous?!” her voice raised up; her temper was short and telling her what to do was igniting the fire, especially considering he was assuming she couldn’t handle the situation. “Let me remind you I was the one who saved your ass yesterday! And it wasn’t the first time!” She watched as he walked around the Baby, avoiding her gaze.
“That’s not the point, Y/N. You’re not going,” he repeated firmly, turning his back to her which got on her nerves even more.
“You’re not gonna tell me what to do!” she leaned forward, pointing to the ground like it was putting the dot on her statement.
“Yes I will!” Dean hollered, turning to her before taking a few strong steps which made her straighten. She was taken aback by his sudden anger and eyes snapping towards her. “I will because I care about you.” His stare was so intense she felt her knees giving up as he slowly approached her. “And if you go there, and something happens, I’m never gonna forgive myself…” he made a pause and took a few deep breaths. “If I lose you,” he grabbed her arms tightly and lowered himself so he could level with her eyes. “I’m gonna lose my freaking mind.”
Y/N’s heart was banging in her chest as she searched his face, noticing how Dean’s eyes were glistening in the dim motel’s lights, shimmering with emotions. Sweat broke across her flesh as his words reached her mind.
What the hell does that mean?
“Dean, what-” she began but Dean immediately cut her off, shaking his head, tired with this game they had been playing for so long.
“Shut up.”
He firmly pulled her to him and crushed his mouth to hers. She froze, surprised and tensed. But as her brain processed what was happening and his lips slightly moved, she melted. Kissing him back, she gave him access and feeling his hot tongue, she lifted her hands to his hair. Fisting it, she arched to him and he enclosed her in his strong arms, sneaking them around her and on her back. His lips were even better than she imagined and despite the intensity he was kissing her with, she could feel how soft they were. Her mind was galloping, her heart beating so loud she was sure it’s gonna jump out or explode. Feeling Dean’s arms squeezing her, for the first time in so long she felt safe and she wanted to stay there for the rest of eternity.
She gave into him, leaning in, she kissed back. Dean’s mind was a mess; not only with the nerves and fear but the fact she didn’t push him away. Instead she clung to him, pulled him even closer - his heart went crazy. The relief filled him as she pushed herself flush to him, standing on her tiptoes, deepening the kiss, even moaning quietly. The taste of her lips and tongue hazed his brain, it was like a drug. But he wouldn’t let himself lose it completely; he needed to stay sober to drag her away from the idea of going with him. Breaking the kiss was harder than he expected, but he managed. Still holding her close, both of them panting, he rested his forehead against hers.
Finally she looked up, wanting to see his eyes but he kept them closed. Shivers were running over her body, she was high on the feelings that bursted between them. Dean’s cheeks moved as he gritted his teeth, deciding to spill everything while he still had courage.
“For three years I was thinking about you,” he said, his voice low. “You were crossing my mind every night and day but I couldn’t bring myself to call you. I knew you didn’t want to be here, that you needed your own life, that you didn’t want me. But that didn’t stop my feelings for you. Then when I saw you yesterday, they slapped me full force in the face. Now, when I have you back here, I can’t lose you. Leaving is one thing but getting killed is another.”
Y/N felt him trembling, his breathing ragged and voice shaking but words steaming with honesty. Being aware of how nervous he could be, she dropped her palm from the back of his head onto his cheek. Rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone, she searched for words she needed to say.
“I’ve always wanted you, Dean,” she spoke, causing his eyes to snap open and pierce into hers. Green orbs twinkling with sparkles of happiness and disbelief. “You were always the most important, even when I wasn’t here. You were constantly in my head but I thought I was just a friend.” He chuckled. “You’re more than a friend, sweetheart.” He pulled back and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “And that’s why you can’t go with me. Promise me you won’t go,” he pleaded, his eyes begging and worried.
“Dean, I could help,” she whispered but he shook his head.
“Promise me, Y/N.” She looked to the sky, taking a breath. She understood but her position was the same.
“I can’t,” whispering she let her hands fall off of him but Dean was still holding her. After a few moments he sighed, let her go and rubbing his face in exhaustion he looked at her, helpless.
“Okay, fine,” he gave up and a smile appeared on her face. “Go get your stuff.”
Instead of going straight away to get her bag, she leaned up and kissed him, slowly and softly. He melted into her, his brows jumping up on an unexpected action. She was so sweet; sweeter than any pie he ever had in his life. Pulling away she stayed close, watching him blinking the bliss away.
“Is it gonna look like that from now on? You will agree on anything I’ll say? Are you that weak for me?” she whispered into his lips and he chuckled low.
“Probably,” Dean answered as he caressed her forearms and briefly entwined their fingers. She pulled away fiercely, the idea shining in her widened eyes.
“Are you gonna let me drive her?” she asked excitedly but he burst into a laugh.
“Na-ah, sweetheart. That’s not gonna happen,” he answered with a warm smile and pulled her into one more kiss.
A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3
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