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sluttyten · 1 year ago

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You In My Arms

Chapter 8: All I Want

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: the first date with the girl who reigns in his dreams these days, and Haechan makes a big realization (and a few smaller ones)

length: 7,997 words

tags: exhibitionism, slowburn, friends to lovers, handjobs, blowjobs, public sex, fingering, general perversion, smut

previous chapter || next chapter (Coming Soon)

“There’s no way you’re actually doing that!?” YangYang laughs loudly, staring at Haechan where he’s standing in the doorway of their shared bathroom.

Haechan doesn’t look away from his reflection in the mirror as he readjusts his collar and checks his hair.

“Why do you find it so hard to believe?”

YangYang appears in the reflection over Haechan’s shoulder, a shit-eating grin stretching his lips wide. “Dude, seriously? It’s because you’ve been friends for years. You fucked all of the other girls in our group of friends, but never once did you show an interest in her. And now, suddenly, you’re taking her out on a date?”

Haechan meets YangYang’s eyes in the mirror. “You know, sometimes we’re just blind and dumb when it comes to who is right in front of us. And sometimes it just takes a little extra time to make a move once you realize you have feelings for someone.”

And that brings a twisted look to YangYang’s face. “Gross. Don’t get mushy and emotional on me now, Haechannie.” He shakes his head and walks away, calling back over his shoulder, “So actual feelings are involved? This isn’t just you trying to, like, wine and dine her before finally marking another of our friends off your list?”

Haechan takes one last sweeping look at himself in the mirror before he shuts the light off and turns away.

“First of all. I didn’t sleep with that many of the girls we were friends with in school. The girls in my dorm block, absolutely.” There was a reason he’d had to learn to avoid all of the girls that lived on the floor below him. “But Karina and one of Mark’s friends were the only ones we were actually close to. So, no, this isn’t me just trying to mark someone else off a non-existent list, dude. I like her.”

And if he doesn’t hurry up, he’s going to be late to their first date.

Haechan doesn’t usually feel nervous about things. He tends to just bulldoze ahead and then feel regret later instead of nerves at the start. But he feels a little flutter of something as he returns to his room to apply some fragrance, to grab his phone and wallet and a scarf and his coat.

When he turns around, YangYang is lurking in his doorway now.

“Damn, what now, Yang?” He hisses, startled at YangYang’s silent appearance. Haechan starts to step around him, but YangYang moves too, blocking his path with a hand to Haechan’s chest.

“Don’t break her heart, man.” His voice is low, a warning. This is the most serious Haechan has seen YangYang in a long time. “I like having her around too much. She’s a great friend, and if you fuck this up and suddenly she doesn’t want to be friends with any of us anymore….” He cuts himself off, shaking his head before he moves on, spitting, “Don’t scare her off with your pervy shit. She’s a good girl.”

Haechan just grins at that, heart leaping in his chest. Amused, he says, “YangYang, I know things about this woman that would make your hair curl. Don’t worry, I’m not scaring her off or breaking her heart.”

He slaps YangYang’s arm, and with a laugh, he finally steps around him and heads for the door.

Without his own car to drive, Haechan walks the several blocks from his apartment to hers. It’s a twenty minute brisk walk, and the cool air of the evening as the season takes its turn towards winter is calming. Twilight has fallen, giving the city a blue wash. Streetlights come on, the stars try to make an appearance. It’s chilly enough that Haechan thinks he can almost see his breath, and he tucks his hands into the pockets of his coat, hiding his nose and mouth beneath the curve of the scarf he has wrapped around his neck.

She’s waiting for him outside her building.

She’s bundled up against the cold too. A puffy coat and a hat with one of those fluffy baubles on top, which altogether makes her look absolutely adorable.

Haechan laughs as he approaches her, lifting a hand up to play with the bauble. “You look cute,” he beams, unable to look away as she smiles back at him. Her hand reaches up for his, pulling it down from where he’d squeezed the fluffy ball at the top of her hat.

“You look nice too, Donghyuckie. And you smell nice.” She doesn’t let go of his hand.

Her palm is warm against his, though her fingers are cold, so he laces their fingers together and brings their folded hands into the warm pocket of his jacket. That seems to throw her off slightly, because when he looks over at her, she’s just blinking, staring quietly at the pocket their hands have disappeared into, a glow appearing to her face that wasn’t there before. But then she moves closer, her hand squeezing his inside the pocket of his jacket.

“So where are we going?” She asks.

“Dinner.” Haechan starts to walk away, and she follows, sticking right by his side. “And then afterwards, a friend of mine is having a free concert by the river. He’s really talented, so I thought that might be fun. Dessert after that, if you’re interested.”

She nods, her face bright as she holds Haechan’s gaze. “Are we walking everywhere, or do we wanna take my car?”

Haechan drives, but they take her car. She chatters in the passenger seat, selecting music on her phone for them to listen to, and Haechan keeps one hand on the wheel while the other rests on his thigh. He keeps fighting the urge to reach over and take her hand. He likes the feel of her fingers between his, her palm warm on his. He likes the way that her perfume mingles with his at their wrists.

He likes her. Plain and simple.

She talks so much that Haechan wonders how nervous she really is. She looks calm on the outside, but then she’ll excitedly ramble to him about this story from her childhood for five minutes. It’s charming and cute, and Haechan listens intently to the story about her childhood stray cat that her parents wouldn’t let her keep, the one about her first trip to the beach that she could remember, the one about her memories of her first day at university and seeing Haechan then.

He’s never heard her first impression of him before, so it’s fascinating to hear it now and to see the light smile on her lips as she talks about him, eyes distant with remembrance.

“First day of orientation,” she giggles — his heart soars at the sound — and she looks ahead through the windshield. “I was so nervous because I didn’t know anyone in my orientation group, and my single acquaintance from high school that I knew there was in a completely different room, and I walk into the room they put us in. Everyone was either talking or sitting quietly by themselves and looking nervous, and I was one of the last ones to enter the room, and there were only a few seats left, so I just remember I booked it for the first one I saw. I remember looking around at everyone, at the student life volunteers who were orienting us.” Again, she laughs. “Do you remember that Xiaojun was actually one of them?”

Damn, Haechan had forgotten about that. He’d been a year ahead of them before he switched his major.

“But then I was looking around the room, and I saw you just like two seats away from me.” And there is her smile, like she’s pleased but embarrassed, and he wonders if her cheeks are filling with warmth of her embarrassment, if so Haechan wants to feel beneath his fingertips, to cradle her face in his hands as he kisses that sweet smile. But he keeps his hands to himself and just listens. “Once we started the icebreakers, it became quickly obvious that you were pretty extroverted. You were chatty and funny. Back then your hair was like this light honey-brown and your face was still squishy and cute.”

“Are you saying my face isn’t cute now?”

She rolls her eyes. “I know you know that’s not true. Your face was just rounder then.”

Haechan remembers. At freshly eighteen, he’d still been a little round and soft. He’d come to school that autumn wearing the weight of his mother desperately trying to stuff her eldest son with as much love and food as she could before he left the nest. He’d been tanned from spending his last months of freedom on the beach. His hair was only that light because he’d been trying to impress someone who, as it turned out, had no interest in him at all.

But Haechan remembers orientation too. He remembers when they were broken down into even smaller groups. Haechan, her, the person between them and one on either side of that trio were put together. She’d been a little quiet and withdrawn, and Haechan had tried to fill the silence (and talk over the only other guy in their group who’d thought he was in charge but who only came up with bad ideas), but he remembered her. He’d noticed her looking at him with this soft look in her eyes, the way she’d laughed along with all of the things he said.

“I remember you too.” Haechan nods as she quickly argues that there’s no way that he remembers her. “It’s true! I do remember you. You were quiet and cute, smart and you laughed so easily. You’re the one that came up with the idea that let our little group win the free snack vouchers, remember?”

She stares at him.

“What? Am I wrong?” Haechan glances over at her, then back at the road. “They put our orientation group into smaller groups, we were together in ours, and we were told to problem-solve. There was one smarty-pants who kept throwing out shitty ideas, I kept making jokes, the other two didn’t contribute much at all, and in the end you came up with the solution. We won snack vouchers, and I kept complimenting you on your idea. Right?”

She nods. “Right.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Haechan laughs, noticing that she’s still just looking at him. “What?”

“I just…. Honestly, I didn’t think you noticed me at all until I started hanging out with the group months later.” She bites her lip and looks out the windshield again. “I remembered everything from that day because that’s when I first started crushing on you, but I never expected that you’d remember me from then.”

They arrive at the restaurant then, and Haechan pulls into a place to park.

“You impressed me,” Haechan admits. “And then I kept seeing you around campus. We had a class or two together that first semester. When I wasn’t doing too great in the Psych class we had, I thought about approaching you to ask if you wanted to join my study group. Not that I had one, but I knew you were smart and nice, so I thought maybe I could at least study with you. But I always talked myself out of it, and then next thing I knew, I went to meet Renjun for lunch on campus one day, and there you were sitting and talking with him and Jeno.” Haechan shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips as the memory replays itself in his mind.

He couldn’t believe two of his closest friends were apparently friends with this girl. He’d watched from a short distance for a moment or two, watching her laugh with Renjun, watching her excitedly turn to tell Jeno something. Her mannerisms were so cute, and when Haechan finally realized he was being creepy by just standing there watching, he approached the table. She’d looked up at him with wide eyes, her lips parted softly, and she’d let out a little “oh!” of surprise.

After that, the rest was history.

They’d become acquaintances who had friends in common, and then their overlapping friend group kept growing until it was common to hang out together. They’d gotten to know each other better, and Haechan had become preoccupied with other people to crush on and lust after, namely Shotaro’s girlfriend, and he’d completely forgotten to realize his feelings growing for her. Until a few months ago.

Dinner is nice.

They share dishes, drink some wine, laugh and talk and probably make lovey eyes at each other quite a bit. Haechan knows that he is. Every time she laughs, he feels like he smiles so dopey. Every time that her foot brushes against his beneath the table, his heart lurches. By the time the check comes, Haechan is fully enchanted with her. Of course, he already knew that he really, really liked her. He knew that he wanted to end this night with finally getting to be with her. But now he knows he definitely wants it more long term than that. He feels like a silly young girl in a fairytale, picturing an entire future just after a first date.

The walk back to the car is the longest three minutes of his life.

He’s holding her hand, but it’s not enough.

He keeps looking at her flushed cheeks, at the shine in her eyes, and at her lips which are stained a slight shade darker by the wine. And he wants to kiss her, to hold her against him, to keep her warm tonight, and taste her on his tongue in every way.

When they reach the car, Haechan can’t hold back anymore. She reaches for the door handle of the passenger side, but Haechan puts a hand on the doorframe, and with his other hand he pulls on their intertwined hands.

She faces him with a bright smile, with a giggle. And like she knows exactly what’s happening, her eyelashes flutter and she tilts her head, and when he leans in to kiss her, she moves to meet him.

This kiss is better than the last.

Haechan feels like he’s had to wait another eternity from that night to this one, though it’s only been somewhere around a week. But every hour felt like an eon, and now it’s all coming to a point right here in this moment when she presses her body against his, her hands sliding around beneath his coat to hold onto his hips, to draw him against her as she leans against the side of her car. His fingers dive into her hair, braiding through the strands as she opens her mouth to his kiss.

He kisses her until he’s breathless, until she’s sighing his name against his lips, their breath clouding around their heads.

“Are we still going to that concert?” She asks, brushing her lips along his jaw. “Or do we want to skip and go right back home?”

The latter option sounds really good.

But Haechan wants to do this date properly.

“Concert first.” He suggests, leaving a too-short kiss on her tempting lips. “Then back to… to yours? To mine?”

“Mine,” she says with certainty. “My roommate’s gone for the weekend. And I’m sure YangYang is still at yours.”

Haechan nods and then laughs. “He threatened me when I told him I was taking you on a date tonight. He told me I’d better not scare you off with any of my pervy shit because you’re a good girl.” He kisses her again, laughing as she tries to slip him some tongue and keep him right there, but he pulls back. “I told him that you’re not as much of a good girl as you would’ve had all of us believing.”

“I’m a good girl,” she insists with a wide, mischievous grin that reaches her eyes.

“Bullshit, baby.” Haechan kisses her one last time before he reaches around her to pull on the door handle. “Get in the car, and after the concert is over, I’ll get my evidence that you’re absolutely not the innocent good girl most of our friends think you are.”

She just smiles as she slides into the passenger seat.

Again, Haechan is sorely tempted to drive back the way they came, to go back to her apartment instead of onward to the park beside the river. But he’s taking her to the concert specifically because he said he would, even if now she’s making that decision so hard to stick with.

As soon as he’s settled in the driver’s seat with the car turned on, she slides her hand over to his thigh.

“What are you doing?” He asks, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Nothing.” She just smiles, trying to look innocent, but that mischievous gleam in her eye gives her away. “How far of a drive is it?”

He types it into his phone, his toes curling in his shoes as she starts moving her hand up and down on his thigh. His GPS presents the answer, the automated voice announcing that it’s about a twenty minute drive.

“I can work with that,” she chimes, leaning her head against the headrest to look over at him. “What do you say, Haechan? You’ve been wined and dined, can I finally get a taste of you?”

Her hand slips higher, fingers brushing right along the center seam of his pants, over his balls, fondling as she finds his stiffening cock. He groans, dropping his head back. Is he meant to be able to say no to the offer? Not that he wants to say no. Sure, he’d wanted to do that whole proper date thing, but if she’s offering a handjob or road head right now, he can’t turn that down.

“Let me get us out of this parking garage, and then you can do whatever you like, angel.” Haechan hears a little shiver in his voice, excitement and arousal as he grips the steering wheel and twists in the driver’s seat, putting the car in reverse. “Just wait a minute, and then you can….”

She palms his cock again.

“You know,” she says, “I’ve been thinking of doing this since seeing you in Mr. Moon’s car. Specifically giving you a hand while you drive, I mean. Like I told you earlier, I’ve had a crush on you since orientation, so I’ve dreamed of jerking you off many, many more times before then. Among other things.”

It takes every ounce of his willpower to not look away from the car’s rear window as he backs up and tries checking his blind spots. He can’t look at her right now, no matter how much he’d like to. It’s too risky at the moment. There are too many fancy parked cars he could bump or back into, too high of a possibility that another car or a person walking could come along to hit. He focuses on backing out of their parking spot, and then passing along the curving path of the parking garage towards the exit below. But still her hand is kneading at his thigh or brushing the seam of his pants which is quickly growing strained as his swelling cock presses against it.

The moment that they’re out of the parking garage, her hand flies to his belt. When they’re sitting at a stoplight two seconds later, she’s unfastening it, fumbling it. Haechan takes his hands off the wheel and his eyes off the red light in front of them to help her undo the belt and the button and zipper of his pants. Her hand slides inside, and he moans the moment that her fingers wrap around his cock and draw him out into the open.

Her eyes gleam in the streetlights.

“No road head,” she explains. “It seems a little too risky at the moment since I don’t know how you’ll react, or how quickly you’re gonna cum.”

Haechan sneers. “What? You think I’m gonna last, like, five seconds or something? Baby, I think you already know better than that.”

She just smiles up at him. Her thumb slides in circles around his tip, and clear fluid is already gathering there, smeared around beneath her fingertip.

The light changes to green and Haechan steps on the gas.

And she starts moving her hand on him.

“You’re gonna make such a mess, aren’t you, Haechan?” She’s teasing him, and the worst part is, that he knows she’s right. He does tend to make a bit of a mess, especially when he’s sitting in a car still fully dressed. He’s gonna get it all over his pants, but at least he’s got a coat that’ll cover the front of his pants when they get to the park.

She strokes his cock slowly, but that doesn’t mean that every single motion doesn’t unfurl pleasure from the base of his spine, sending tendrils of arousal through his veins.

Haechan does his best to focus on the road, to not just melt into the heat of her palm around his cock, to not dissolve when she leans over and drools spit down onto him to ease the glide a little more.

“Fuck,” he curses, loosening one hand from the wheel to lay it against the back of her head. But she sits up instead of sinking her pretty lips around him. He doesn’t move his hand, just braids his fingers through her hair, tugging lightly when she squeezes her hand around him on the slow upstroke.

Haechan blows down the streets of the city.

He’s pretty sure he doesn’t run any red lights or stop signs. He doesn’t crash into any cars, curbs, or pedestrians. So he must be doing something right even as his focus starts to slip.

A knot of pleasure is tightening between his navel and his cock.

“If you haven’t cum by the time we get there,” she sighs, leaning closer to touch her lips to his neck — his cock twitches, a blurt of precum leaking from the tip — and she continues, “Then as soon as you put this car in park I really want to sit on your cock, Haechannie. It just looks so wonderful. Since you sent me that first video, I thought so. You’ll fill me so well, stretch me so nicely, and I bet you’d like to cum inside me like that wouldn’t you? With me riding you in the car? Like that video you stole from Renjun’s phone.”

Haechan’s hips jolt off the seat, driving his cock up into the tight fit of her fist. That video…. So hot. He’d thought about it and watched it quite a few times since he sent it to himself. The way the girl in the video’s ass had bounced, how her pussy had swallowed Renjun’s cock so nicely, and Haechan knew that his own cock was bigger than Renjun’s and it would’ve stretched that pussy even nicer. He’d fantasized too often about that, getting ridden in a hot, sweaty car, cumming inside her with his cum then dripping down her thighs. He’d wondered for a few weeks after Thailand, wondering who the girl had been, wondering if Haechan could track her down and get to experience that for himself. Of course, by that point, he’d already kind of started to realize he might have feelings for the beautiful woman who currently has his cock in her hand, so he’d given up on that brief fantasy.

She kisses Haechan’s neck again, her hand massaging just right beneath his cock tip. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Like you told me, you’ve gotten off to that video so many times. It’s your favorite.” Her teeth skim his skin, and Haechan’s heart thunders, pleasure arcing through him.

“Wouldn’t it just blow your mind, Haechan, if I told you that I’m the girl in that video?”

His mind goes blank. The world whites out for a second as his orgasm pulses through him. Only a self-preservation instinct keeps him from crashing the car as Haechan cums in sticky white ropes all over her hand and her steering wheel and his lap.

She’s the girl in that video?

She’s the girl riding Renjun in the car with the gorgeous ass and beautiful pussy, the one who’d ridden Renjun’s cock like a professional cockrider? The one with Renjun’s handprints on her ass, cum spilling down her perfect thighs beneath the sundress.

It makes sense, now that he actually thinks about it.

He knew that she’d fucked around with Renjun during that period of time, but for some reason, he’d never considered that she was the one in the video. Then that must mean that she was also the girl in the other pictures and videos. How many times had he watched her without knowing it was her? How many times had he cum, fantasizing about her body and her moans without realizing they were hers?

It’s the sound of the center console popping open that breaks Haechan out of his daze. She’s rummaging through the contents of her car’s center console until she comes up with a pack of wet wipes.

“What are you doing?” Haechan asks.

“Cleaning you up.” She pulls a wipe out, cleaning her hand off first, and her wrist, then she tries to wipe his cum off her steering wheel.

He’s silent for a moment, but then he asks, “Is it really you in that video?”

She looks up, barely more than a cursory glance, then says, “Yes. It’s me. He told me he’d told Jaehyun about the night that he and I exchanged orgasms during the movie, and Jaehyun wanted to watch us together. I was horny, he was willing to show off, so we fucked right here in this seat.” She points to the spot she’s sitting. “In the back of a parking lot on campus. That was my one request when he asked me if we could fuck for Jaehyun to watch, to do it somewhere semi-public.”

“Who’s the pervert now?” Haechan teases, but his heart is pounding in his chest, just picturing the scene from an outside perspective: her and Renjun in this car on campus. It would’ve been so easy to catch them. But right now it’s more than that, he wants to be in Renjun’s spot more than ever — to have her riding him in the passenger seat of her car in broad daylight.

“All of those pictures and videos in Renjun’s phone…. All of them with a girl, those were me,” she admits quietly, still wiping down little spots in the car. “We weren’t a thrupple, I never got physically involved with Jaehyun, never even got to watch the two of them together, but every time that Renjun and I were together there was either photo or video or audio evidence. Sometimes we called Jaehyun and he would listen in or tell us what to do. It was all really hot.”

When Haechan looks over, she’s squirming in her seat a little.

He’s still driving, but according to the GPS they’re almost there. She takes a new wipe to dab gently at the cum on the front of his pants.

She tosses the used wipes to the floor at her feet, and then she shifts in her seat.

Haechan glances over at her, curious, watching as she rearranges herself until her chest is against the center console. His heart picks up a thunderous pace. “I thought you said no road head?” He asks, moving his hand to the back of her head again.

“Hey, Lee Donghyuck. It’s not too late for me to change my mind again. Keep your mouth shut or else I won’t do it.” She threatens, but he can tell that she’s going to do it regardless of what he says right now. She’s licking her lips, eyes fixed on his softening cock still wet with his cum. “You just keep your eyes on the road. Focus on getting us to our destination in one piece because now that we’ve talked about that video, I really, really have my heart set on riding you when we get there.”

Haechan does exactly as she says. He looks ahead at the road, noticing that they have just one more light, just one more right turn after that, and they’ll be in the parking lot.

Her tongue swipes along the side of his cock.

She makes a soft hum, and then she licks again, and then, as they pass over a slight bump in the road, she sucks the soft head of his cock between her lips.

“Fuck!” Haechan groans, risking a look down.

It’s worth it. Even if he’d crashed the car right then, the glimpse he’d caught of her with her pretty lips spread around his cock, her eyes watching his face, it would’ve been worth it.

She sucks his cock, bobbing her head, tongue working to clean the cum that had spilled down his length from his previous orgasm. And she keeps moaning, humming with these little sounds of delight. His fingers tighten in her hair, and he can feel the blood rushing to his cock once more, him growing hard on her tongue.

As he turns the car into the parking lot, he tugs at her hair. “We’re here,” he says.

She sits up, letting his cock fall from her lips as she wipes at the corners of her mouth.

The parking lot isn’t full, but there is a decently sized crowd. Haechan pulls into the first open spot he can find, which just happens to be in a perfectly private spot. There’s a streetlight nearby putting off a silvery glow, making this spot just public enough to satisfy the woman in the passenger seat’s exhibitionist nature.

“Well, angel?” He asks as he puts the car in park and pulls the key out of the ignition. “Are you all talk or are you gonna come sit on my cock like a good girl?”

For a moment, he thinks she’s actually about to tell him no as she glances out the car windows. Which would be fine, of course. If she didn’t actually want to ride him right now and had just been saying that to rile him up, that’s fine. They’ll just go watch the concert.

But then she’s moving, hiking up the long skirt she’s wearing tonight, stockings on beneath it, and she’s slipping over the center console into his lap.

Haechan’s hands move to her hips. His breath catches in his throat as he looks at her, both of them face to face. There’s a glimmer of saliva at the corner of her lips, and he lifts a hand to wipe it away with his thumb.

“You’re so beautiful.” The words come out without him meaning to actually say them.

“Are you just saying that because I just had your cock in my mouth?” She smiles, mirroring his position by lifting a hand to his face as well. “Or because I’m offering to ride you?”

Haechan shakes his head. “Secret third option: I’m saying it because it’s just true.”

By the streetlight’s glow, Haechan watches her face take on a flustered expression. She shifts in his lap, her thighs and ass moving against his thighs, her knees bump against his hips. Her thumb slides along his cheek, drawing connecting lines between his moles.

He likes holding her just like this. Having her close and warm in his arms, the gentle fragrance of her perfume lulling him into a calm state where he could just sit here and look at her forever. He forgets that he has his cock out still and that she’s in his lap because she wanted to ride his cock. Her eyes are sparkling, her expression bright, and her hand on his cheek is so light that he wants to just lean into it. Of course, he still wants to feel her around his cock, still wants to have her moaning his name while he makes her feel good, her breath gasping against his lips as they rock this car and draw attention to themselves. But he’s perfectly content like this too, and that thought kinda surprises him.

Haechan is almost always horny, always thinking about sex. But right now, he’d be fine with just tucking his cock away again, taking her hand and going to enjoy the concert.

“Can we do this later?” He asks quietly, afraid of breaking this fragile moment. Her thumb twitches on his cheek, her mouth twisting a little, so Haechan quickly explains, “I want to do it right the first time. When we have sex for the first time, I don’t want it to be cramped in the car when there’s a concert happening nearby. The general public is right there, any random stranger may walk by, but��” He lifts his hand up to cup her hand against his cheek, which he leans into. “I want to take my time with you, babe. Just us.”

She smiles. “That’s a romantic notion, Lee Donghyuck.”

“I told you not to call me that.” But he isn’t so sure that he means it. He likes the way his name sounds from her lips, the way that her pretty mouth forms those sounds, curling into almost a smile around the Lee, a circle around the Dong, and then with another smile as she finishes out with the Hyuck. He would like the sound of anything she called him, honestly.

“Oh, sorry,” she teases, leaning closer until her lips brush his ear. “Daddy?”

Haechan laughs.

He pinches her cheek. “That’s not quite right either, but I like the attempt. Let’s go enjoy the concert, angel, and then I’ll take you home for some proper romance.”

She opens the driver’s side door, sliding out onto her feet, and Haechan takes an extra moment to stuff his cock back inside his pants, to grab the car keys and his phone, and as he pulls himself from the car, he checks to make sure that his coat covers up any of the stains from where his cum dripped earlier. He grabs a folded blanket from her backseat, and tucks it under his arm.

He takes her hand again, and this time she hides their hands in the warmth of her coat pocket as they walk towards the site of the show. Haechan leans into her, arms knocking together, and he starts talking, telling her about how this is his friend Doyoung, who he met through one of the music courses he took as electives during university. Doyoung is attempting to launch his career, and he’s been signed to a company, though he’s still working to make a big name for himself.

It’s a small stage with a decently sized crowd. Haechan notices that plenty of other people brought chairs for the lawn in front of the stage or they’ve brought blankets to sit on or wrap up in. Someone got a food truck for Doyoung that sits nearby with words of encouragement on the signage. They’re selling hot coffee, hot chocolate, and some warm snacks.

They find a good spot to sit, and Haechan wraps the blanket around both of them as they sit down on the grass. She snuggles up to his side, drops her head onto his shoulder. The bauble on the top of her hat tickles his chin, but he doesn’t complain. He just lets her get comfortable, and when she shivers a little more, Haechan unwraps his scarf from around his neck to bundle it around her instead.

“No,” she protests, trying to untwist it, pushing it back into his hands. “You’ll catch a cold.”

Stubbornly, Haechan just places the scarf once more around her, winding it in loops around her neck. “I’ll be fine. You’re the one that keeps shivering.”

She frowns at him from above the pile of the scarf. “That’s because someone had the bright idea to have an outdoor concert in the middle of winter.”

“Do you want me to grab you a hot chocolate or a hot coffee?” Haechan offers.

She shakes her head no very quickly, dropping her head down onto his shoulder again, and clinging tightly to him beneath their blanket, her hand twisting in his sweater. “Nope, you can stay right here. You can keep me warm.”

He’s going to do exactly that. He wraps both of his arms around her, drawing her closer.

The concert starts just a few minutes later. Doyoung emerges on the stage and sings his heart-aching ballads, his sweet love songs, brighter sounding covers of pop songs. Haechan is surprised to find that there is a group of girls going wild for Doyoung, singing and dancing along to his songs, which means that even though he’s not a big name yet, that’s the beginning of his fanbase.

Beside him, snuggled against Haechan’s side, his date tonight hums along to the pop songs.

As the concert begins to draw towards the end just an hour later, Doyoung takes a pause on the stage to scan the crowd. Haechan notices the way he squints against the lights, his hand flexing around the microphone set in the stand. The fangirls go wild, waving and calling for his attention, but Doyoung keeps looking around until finally his eyes meet Haechan’s. He grins brightly and leans into the mic.

Haechan’s heart begins to race.

He’d told Doyoung he was definitely coming tonight after the invitation went out. He’d mentioned he was bringing a girl out for their first date, and Haechan had only told him that to tease his hyung, to tell him that Doyoung really needed to give his best performance to impress Haechan’s date. But judging by the gleam in Doyoung’s smile where it reaches his eyes, Haechan is about to face the repercussions of telling Doyoung about this.

“I have a friend here in the crowd tonight,” Doyoung says, his voice magnified in the winter night. “He’s here on a first date with a girl he’s known for years and only just gotten the nerve to ask out. In his honor, our last song of the night is going to be a sweet love song! If you know the words, sing along! And even if you don’t, it’s a great song to dance with your lover.”

She sits up, lifting her head from his shoulder, and she turns her head. Haechan can feel her eyes on him. He glances slyly at her, just looking at her from the corner of his eye as he faces Doyoung on the stage. The music starts, and all around them in the crowd, couples get to their feet. An elderly couple that had been sitting in the back on a bench starts slowly dancing together as Doyoung begins crooning into the mic.

“Do you want to dance?” She asks quietly beside him.

Haechan doesn’t hesitate to push the blankets from his shoulders, rising to his feet, and reaching back down for her hand. She keeps the blanket draped around her shoulders, still bundled in her hat and his scarf too, but she lets Haechan pull her to her feet. He brings her hand up to his shoulder, holding her gaze, and she brings her other arm up to curl around the back of his neck.

When he slides his arm around her waist, pulling her body against his, he relaxes. They don’t really dance. Not properly. They just sway back and forth with their arms around each other, a juvenile dance in comparison to the grander style that some other couples are dancing right now. Haechan lowers his head to rest his forehead against hers.

This isn’t much really, but it’s the best first date he’s ever been on.

“How would you say I’m doing?” He asks, his heart beating a little nervously in his throat. “On a scale of one to ten?”

She’s quiet for a couple seconds too long. “Well, right now I’d say a three.”

His heart drops down to his stomach.

“For the dancing alone, Haechan. Don’t stress.” She smiles, tightening her arms around his neck in a way that presses their chests closer together, and he wonders if she can feel his heart pounding. Her words only slightly put him at ease, but when she laughs, it does help a little more.

“Do you want some professional ballroom dancing from me?” Haechan asks. “You want me to twirl you and sweep you off your feet?” He bends her backwards, and she shrieks out a laugh that has him quickly pulling her back up securely against him as heads turn their way.

She moves her head to the side, her laugh warm now where her lips press against his cheek.

“No need for that. Just hold me like this. And as for the rank on a scale for the overall date,” her voice is warm and bright, a lighthearted tease as she says, “Definitely a solid nine and a half.”

Haechan nods, suppressing a shiver of arousal as her lips skim along his jaw. “And the half a point deduction?”

“Because it’s too fucking cold. I’m having fun, I like this concert, but I’d so much rather be back at my place in my nice warm bed. With you.” And with those words, she kisses him, her fingers pressing into his hair and against the back of his neck.

He kisses her too. Hungrily, deeply, wanting nothing more than to tear that blanket from her shoulders, spread it out on the ground, and lay her down on top of it to get to feel her body warm and bare beneath him and around him. He wants her now.

“Fuck me,” he mumbles, cursing himself for choosing not to go through with it in the car earlier, cursing himself for not just doing dinner and then taking her home. Haechan just wants her right now.

Specifically, he only wants her.

No one else around but her. Fuck the whole exhibitionist and voyeur thing they’ve been doing. He doesn’t want to share her right now. He wants her all alone with just him in the privacy of a bedroom, tucked between soft sheets that tangle around their legs and wrinkle beneath their bodies as he drives himself into her again and again. He wants to feel her moans where their chests press together, to feel her body reacting to him in uncontrollable bursts — the hiccup of her breath when he strokes just right inside her, the twitch of her thighs against his hips, the way she’ll squirm and circle her hips as her orgasm approaches, her pussy squeezing around him trying to draw him deeper, deeper….

The whole rest of the world fades away.

The singing, the music, the crowd, even the wintry chill.

Everything is her.

Her breath, her perfume. The heat of her mouth and her body. The feel of her hands in his hair, her body in his arms, the throbbing of their hearts. Her voice just a breathy sigh of his name, lips making the syllables of his name sound perfect. “Lee Donghyuck,” she sighs, “Can we go?”

As if he could deny her anything she asked right now. She could ask him for murder and he’d probably do it. The stars, the moon, the whole damn galaxy and beyond.

Is this what it is to be in love?

Is he in love?

He lowers his mouth to her throat, lips moving along the column of her throat, tongue tracing along the rapid beat of her pulse. Her fingers tighten in his hair with a quiet gasp.

A million moments flash in his mind. The past, the present, the possibilities of the future. Her.

Damn it. He’s in love.

He doesn’t spare another glance towards the stage. Doesn’t pay attention to anyone he passes by as he pulls her along to the car. Or maybe she’s pulling him. Either way, they’re racing quickly towards where they parked the car.

Luckily it’s a shorter drive from here back to hers than it had been from the restaurant to here.

“I want to fuck you in your bed. Properly.” Haechan gasps as she pins him up against the driver’s side door of the car. Her lips are on his again, her hands gripping the front of his coat. “Just wait ten minutes, babe, and—“

She kisses him quiet, and he lets her. For now. She can take anything she wants right now. But as soon as they’re in her apartment, he’s going to be in charge. He’ll have her gasping and sighing and being such a good girl for him.

“I’m so tired of waiting,” she whines. She drops her forehead to his chest. “Do you know how long I’ve liked you, Haechan? How long I’ve wanted you like this? I feel like if we don’t fuck within the next thirty minutes I’m going to explode.”

Amusement and arousal swarm through Haechan’s mind, obscuring any other possible forms of thought.

Here she is, whining for him to fuck her.

“Get in the car.” He swats a hand down against her ass. “The sooner you do that, the sooner I’ll have you home. How was it that you phrased it? Back at your place in your nice warm bed. With me. Passenger seat, princess. Keep your hands to yourself, and we’ll get there much faster.”

Of course, she takes his instructions to heart, and no sooner has she buckled her seat belt and he’s backing out of the parking spot than she’s got her hands on herself.

She makes it difficult to focus on driving when he can see her hand on her chest, her other hand lifting the long hem of her skirt revealing an utter lack of panties again. His hold on the steering wheel slips, the car swerving as he turns out onto the main road.

She keeps her hands to herself certainly. Warming herself up, getting herself ready for him.

The world tonight is painted in hues of lust. In vivid lusty reds smeared like lipstick over skin and smooth silky shades of black, shimmering yellows and golds of headlights, the amber and orange of streetlamps flashing over bared skin in the passenger seat. Green lights spark through Haechan’s consciousness, only noticing them long enough to keep speeding forward, his hand inching across the center console to her bare thigh. Electric blue blur of the letters on the radio display in the dashboard, spelling out the titles of songs that Haechan can’t even hear over the sound of his own pulse and the sound of her voice growing raspy with lust around each sigh and moan, the soft whimpers of his name as her fingers move. There’s the purple shadows in the indents where his fingers press in, spreading her legs, pulling her thigh toward him so when he next glances over he can see it. The pretty shade of her pussy around her fingers.

Haechan could paint a whole new world with the colors he sees right now. And in that world it would be only him and her, this woman in the seat beside him right now.

She cums on her fingers, his name on her lips.

Haechan is no artist or poet, but in that moment, as he pulls up to park at her apartment building, as he looks over at her where she’s all but melted into the passenger seat with a satisfied smile on her lips, he thinks he could be.

He could paint a portrait of her like she is right now and hang it in the Louvre. He could write poems for her, about how she looks right now, how she makes him feel, and he would happily hear them read across the world.

He wants them all to know. Every single person.

He’s in love.

previous chapter || next chapter (Coming Soon)

a/n: I'm genuinely so excited for y'all to read this chapter and the next one! I know how long you've all been patiently waiting for this slow burn to reach the peak where you finally get the burn, and I swear to you that it's finally coming in the next chapter. This chapter gave you just that little taste. But what do you think! Please let me know all your thoughts because I'm loving the feedback (both the compliments and the critiques! Keep them all coming!) Thank you so much for reading, and I really can't wait for next Tuesday to come for y'all to get the next chapter 😉

#haechan #haechan smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct #lee haechan #yima #nct dream #nct 127 #nct 2023

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midwestmade29 · 6 months ago

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Communication 🩷

To Anonymous: This was my first ever request for Darby! I hope I did him justice and that you enjoy the story 🖤 Word count: 991 Divider by: Me 🙂 *GIF is not mine Original Anonymous Request: Can I have Darby Allin x Fem reader where they have feelings for each other and share them after Nick locks them in a supply closet?

Disclaimers: Mild cursing.

With the help of Nick Wayne, you and Darby finally confess your feelings to each other...

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell her man,” Nick teased. “You can’t hide your feelings for her forever. No amount of face paint can cover up the stupid grin you get whenever she’s around,” “Whenever who’s around?” you asked curiously as you walked up on the conversation. Nick got quiet but Darby answered you, “No one. Nick was just talking out of his ass. I think he’s still reeling from getting speared by Copeland earlier,” When you chuckled at his joke, the expression on his face softened and he appeared more relaxed. It was as if your laughter had soothed him. Nick on the other hand was less than amused. “Whatever dude, I’m outta here,” he said as he brushed by Darby, leaving both of you alone together. Silence fell between the two of you the longer you stood there.

You always felt like there were butterflies in your stomach whenever Darby was around. Your feelings for him were ever growing, yet your nerves made it difficult for you to tell him. The way he would light up whenever you entered a room made it seem like he might feel the same way, only he hasn’t said anything before either. You always remained hopeful though.

“So, how are things?” you asked a little timidly. Darby rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, smiling at your attempt at small talk. “Things are good. Still alive and above ground, so that’s a plus,” You recalled the last time you and Darby talked when he told you all about his latest stunt and how he nearly broke every bone in his body. His fearlessness was something you envied, even though his antics often made you worry about him and his safety. Before your brain had time to filter your thoughts, you blabbed, “Well I’m certainly glad you’re still around,” It instantly felt like your cheeks were on fire! Why was it so hard to act normal around him? “Y/N, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time. With everything else in my life I’m not afraid to take a risk, but when it comes to you, I seem to lose my nerve. What I’m trying to say is that I-” Darby rambled before getting interrupted by Nick running down the hallway.

“Guys! Hey! Tony wants to talk to you, right now! He sent me to come get you,” Nick said in a hurry. When you and Darby didn’t budge, he urged you to follow him. “Seriously guys it seemed important. I’ll show you where his office is! Let’s go,” With a shrug of his shoulders, Darby decided to bite on Nick’s hook. You followed suit, trying to keep up with Nick’s long strides. As you rounded the corner, the three of you stopped in front of a door that had a makeshift sign taped to it that signified it was in fact Tony Kahn’s office. “You guys go ahead and go in, I’ll be waiting here for you when you’re all done,” You walked in first, Darby right behind you as you flipped on the light switch. “What the-” you started to say when you realized you weren’t in an office, but a dirty supply closet! Darby hadn’t cleared the threshold yet, so Nick gave him a not so gentle push, making him crash right into you. “What the hell Nick!!” he shouted as he helped you steady yourself. “Are you okay Y/N?”

The door started closing, your finger instantly pointing in that direction causing Darby’s eyes to follow. “Shit!” he gasped and lunged for the knob, but he was too late.

The door was now latched and another clicking noise grabbed your attention, “Did you seriously just lock us in here?!” the annoyance in your voice at the forefront of your question. “It’s for your own good! You guys have some talking to do,” Nick said triumphantly from the other side of the door. You suddenly felt nervous, but Darby appeared to be calm as he leaned up against the wall with his arms crossed. “He’s not wrong,” Darby’s remark caught you off guard. “What do you mean?” “Look Y/N, I gotta be real with you. Climbing Mt. Everest doesn’t scare me, jumping 96 feet over my house in a jeep doesn’t scare me, shit even crashing through panes of real glass doesn’t scare me,” You weren’t sure where he was going with this, but you didn’t dare interrupt him. “What does scare me is the way that I feel about you. I like you, Y/N. A lot. I have for the longest time, and now seems like as good of a time as ever to finally tell you considering we’re at the mercy of The Prodigy right now. It’s fine if you don’t feel the same way, I just wanted you to know,”

You tried to remain cool even though internally you were screaming with joy at Darby’s confession! The huge grin on your face gave yourself away, making the handsome “Invisible Man’s” smile blossom right before your eyes. “Um, well it’s funny that you said that because I have feelings for you too. Seeing you is the best part of my day and I miss you when you’re gone. We’re crazy for not telling each other sooner, you know that right?” “Do you know what’s crazier? It took us getting locked in a storage closet for us to air out our feelings,” Darby chuckled. “We might owe Nick a solid now,” From the other side of the door Nick called out, “Damn right you do!” before unlocking it and setting you two love birds free.

You and Darby continued your conversation in a less cramped location, deciding to give a relationship a try. You both agreed to try and communicate better with one another, making sure to bring things up and discuss them without needing to be locked in a supply closet again.

#darby allin #darby allin fanfic #darby allin imagine #darby allin fluff #aew #all elite wrestling #fanfiction #aew fanfiction #fanfic #aew fanfic #aew imagine #aew fluff #aew fic #nick wayne #darby allin x y/n

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grayhyacinth · 2 months ago

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The Wishmaker Star

Go watch season three of The Owl House! I hope you guys enjoy another work I wrote. Unfortuantly, school is about to start again, so I'm not sure when I'll create another work. But, I won't forget about you.

Links: ao3, tumblr, masterlist

Hunter’s POV:

“…do you think she’s going to like it?”

“Dude, you know she’s been wanting a palisman for like... over five years!” Augustus sighed in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose before sliding his fingers down the length of it.

“Yeah! I know, but—”

“Plus, you’ve been carving palistrom wood to make her the perfect palisman.” Gus added air quotes, emphasizing the last two words with a teasing smirk. “She’s going to love it.”

“…really? You think so?” The former Golden Guard turned the small, carefully wrapped gift box in his hand a few times, as if the motion could help him decide whether its contents were truly enough.

“Really.” Gus nodded with confidence, locking eyes with Hunter. “Now, come on! We’re gonna be late to the party!” He stopped mid-stride, suddenly grabbing Hunter’s hand and tugging him into a sprint.

“Haha, hey! Okay!” Despite the laughter in his voice, Hunter couldn’t shake the undercurrent of anxiety brewing inside him. What if you hated it? What if the last thing you wanted was a gift from someone who used to serve Belos?

His fingers tightened around the gift as they dashed through the forest, the sight of The Owl House growing closer. Deep down, he desperately hoped you’d appreciate it. More than that—he hoped you’d understand what the gift really meant to him. What you meant to him.

He blinked in shock. Did he really just think that? His ears burned bright red, and he forced the thoughts away, but they lingered, hanging in the back of his mind as they neared the clearing.

The trees thinned, revealing the tip of the familiar crooked roof, smoke billowing from a lit, bubbling cauldron. The scent of delicious food greeted them, and the sound of laughter echoed through the clearing, filling the space with warmth.

His eyes were instantly drawn to you.

“Haha, seriously, Luz?”

“Oh, come on! Don’t tell me you didn’t find that funny!” Luz was grinning, clearly proud of herself, but you were shaking your head, still chuckling.

“Your attempt at a dazzling light show ended up with random colorful sparks chasing each other around! You almost set King on fire!”

Your laugh rang out again, your head tilted back, eyes crinkled in a way that made you absolutely radiant in Hunter’s eyes. It had been three long months since your last visit to the Boiling Isles. And he missed you.

(Y/n) POV:

Returning to the Boiling Isle was like a breath of fresh air after drowning in the Human world. While Luz occasionally visited the Isle, you had thrown yourself into preparing for your exams, working day and night to secure your place at your dream university.

And now, you had done it. The letter was sitting back in your room, in the Owl House, confirming your acceptance. Tonight’s "Night Under the Stars" party wasn’t just a reunion with friends—it was the perfect chance to announce your plans for the future. But that didn’t stop the nerves boiling beneath your excitement.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Gus and Hunter making their way through the crowd. The moment your gaze met Hunter’s, a wide smile spread across your face, and you waved energetically.

“Gus! Hunter! You made it!”

Gus approached first, grinning as he handed you a blue gift bag decorated with silver stars. “The party looks awesome, (Y/N)!”

“Thanks, Gus!” You took the bag, your excitement bubbling over. “You didn’t have to get me anything, though!”

He shrugged dramatically. “It’s either a gift or a firework show, and let’s just say... my track record with fireworks isn’t the best.”

You laughed. “You mean the time you nearly set Luz’s eyebrows on fire?”

Gus pointed at you. “Exactly! See, I’m learning from my mistakes. No more ‘explosive’ gifts. I went safe this time.” He gestured to the bag.

Peeking into the shimmering tissue paper, you raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried about this gift now?”

Gus waved his hands quickly, eyes wide. “No, no! I swear, it’s not dangerous. This time it’s actually cool! Just, uh, make sure you open it carefully… outside.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Gus!”

He laughed, nudging you. “Just kidding.”

Hunter stood a little behind Gus, awkwardly shifting the small, carefully wrapped box in his hands. He took a deep breath, holding the gift out to you, his gaze darting nervously to the ground.

“I… uh, made this. For you.” His voice was quiet, and his ears were still red. “I hope you like it.”

You took a step away from Gus, eyeing the gift box with curiosity. It was wrapped in a beautiful shade of magenta, one that almost perfectly resembled Hunter’s eyes. A neatly tied yellow ribbon sat on top, forming a large, slightly uneven bow that added a cute, personal touch. You couldn’t help but smile—Hunter was really getting good at arts and crafts.

“This is…?” you asked, your voice soft as you carefully reached out, your fingers brushing against his as he held the box. His hand felt warm and rough, calloused from endless hours of training and carving. You couldn’t help but notice the small bandages wrapped around each finger, a testament to how much care and effort he must have put into this.

Your eyes flicked up to his face. Hunter’s blush deepened, his freckled cheeks glowing a light pink as his eyes darted anywhere but yours. He seemed frozen, caught between the hope that you'd like it and the fear that you wouldn’t. It was endearing, seeing the normally composed Hunter so nervous.

His voice barely came out in a whisper. “It’s, uh... just something I made. I wasn’t sure if it was good enough…”

You smiled, squeezing his hand gently to reassure him. “Hunter, you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted quickly, almost panicking at the thought that you might dismiss it. His eyes finally met yours for a second before he looked away again, clearly embarrassed by his own outburst. “I mean, I just… I thought you might like it. If you don’t, that’s fine too! I just—”

You cut him off with a soft laugh, feeling your own cheeks warm. “I haven’t even opened it yet, but I already know I’m going to love it.”

Hunter blinked, surprised by your words, but his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. His lips twitched upward in the smallest of smiles as he mumbled, “I’m glad…”

You carefully took the box from his hands, your heart fluttering at how much thought he must have put into this. Whatever was inside, it already felt special. You looked up at him again, giving him another warm smile. "Thank you, Hunter. Really."

He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah, uh... you're welcome." He stole a quick glance at you, his blush deepening again.

You glanced over at Luz, who was giving you and Hunter a smirking look, clearly enjoying the awkward tension. “I think there’s a couple more things left to do before the party can start, right, Luz?” You raised an eyebrow at her, trying to shift the attention away from you and Hunter.

Luz’s smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, totally! But, you know, I think we could give you two a little more time to… finish your moment.” She wiggled her eyebrows dramatically.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a laugh. “Luz.”

She snickered. “Okay, okay! I’ll behave. But yeah, there’s a couple last-minute things to get done. I’ll go grab the snacks from the kitchen, and King’s in charge of making sure everything goes well. You know how much he loves bossing everyone around.”

Hunter let out a small, awkward laugh, scratching the back of his head. “Sounds like King…”

“Yup! Little guy’s already giving me a lecture about optimal stargazing positions,” Luz added with a grin. “But we’ve got it all under control. You two just… keep doing whatever you’re doing.”

“Luz!” you called, a mix of embarrassment and amusement coloring your tone as she dashed off with a mischievous wave.

Hunter stood beside you, looking slightly flustered but smiling softly. You turned back to him, giving him an apologetic shrug. “She’s… well, Luz.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, eyes softening as he looked at you. “She is.”

While Amity worked her culinary magic in the kitchen, preparing delicious treats and savory bites, Willow was outside weaving a tapestry of glowing enchanted flowers. Gus was busy setting up a stereo system and curating a playlist.

Lilith, ever the organizer, took charge of a trivia game focused on the magical history of stars and constellations. Eda zipped around with King to assist wherever needed—whether it was adjusting decorations, fetching supplies, or simply keeping an eye on things to make sure everything was running smoothly.

Hooty, with his characteristic enthusiasm, took on the role of party greeter and entertainer. He offered his over-the-top hospitality, engaging in animated conversations.

As for you and Hunter, you were hard at work preparing the stargazing area. Together, you laid out an array of soft blankets and pillows, arranging them in inviting clusters around the open space. You made sure there were ample cozy spots for guests to lounge and gaze up at the stars. Hunter adjusted the placement of a few blankets to ensure that everyone had an unobstructed view of the night sky.

Taking a step back, you admired the sight before you. The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting a final burst of orange and pink across the sky. As the daylight faded, the first stars began to twinkle, their light growing clearer against the deepening blue of the evening. It was a breathtaking backdrop for the night’s festivities.

With a deep breath, you called out, “Everyone! It’s time!” Your voice carried across the gathering, amplified by the excitement in the air.

Gradually, the guests made their way to their chosen spots, finding cozy places among the clusters of blankets and pillows you and Hunter had arranged. Plates of snacks and small bites were passed around, with some guests holding their treats in hand as they settled in. The soft murmur of conversation began to mingle with the occasional burst of laughter, while the louder chatter from Hooty and the background music set a lively, cheerful tone.

As everyone settled in, the trivia game organized by Lilith started to draw interest, with guests eagerly gathering around to test their knowledge of magical history.

"What rare type of star is known for emitting a gentle, calming glow that can soothe even the most agitated magical beings?”

“Oh! I know!” Willow immediately raised her hand. She was literally clutching a finger, hence the name for finger food, and waved it around excitedly. “The Tranquil Star?”

“Very good, Willow!” Lilith responded with a proud smile. She marked a point on her chalkboard, which rested on her lap. “Next question: Which star is known to be the source of the most potent moonlight magic used in spells and enchantments?”

“Hmmm…” You furrowed your brow, trying to recall your Astrology Class lessons at Hexite. But before you could come up with the answer, Eda chimed in, leaning back with a confident grin.

“Obviously, the Silver Beacon,” Eda declared, casually biting into a piece of spicy manticore jerky. “These questions are too easy. Either you’re getting rusty with your history, Lilly, or I’m just a natural.”

Lilith’s smile widened, clearly enjoying the challenge. She noted a point for Eda on the chalkboard. “Alright then,” she said, rubbing her hands together in preparation for a tougher question. “What is the name of the mystical star that is said to appear only once every hundred years and grants a single wish to those who find it?”

A hush fell over the group. Everyone furrowed their brows, deep in thought, but no one could come up with the answer.

Lilith’s eyes twinkled with a mix of anticipation and mischief. “Come on, folks,” she teased. “Anyone want to take a guess, or should I reveal the answer?”

Amity speaks first, tapping her chin thoughtfully with a finger. Her other arm is wrapped securely around Luz, drawing her close. “How about giving us a hint?” she suggests, her tone light but eager.

Everyone nods in agreement. Lilith, clearly enjoying the playful challenge, grins and leans forward. “Alright, I’ll give you a hint,” she says, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “The name of this star is said in stories we read to children.”

You spent a lot of time in the library, a habit sparked partly by Amity and Luz’s influence, but also because you genuinely enjoyed delving into the rich history and lore of the Boiling Isles. As you pondered Lilith's hint, a classic children's story came to mind. You murmured the title under your breath, “The Wishmaker Star.”

Hearing your whispered answer, Lilith’s eyes lit up with approval. “That’s right!” she exclaimed. “Nicely done, (Y/n)!”

The group erupted in applause, impressed by your knowledge. Lilith marked another point on her chalkboard, and the trivia game continued with a renewed sense of enthusiasm.

Once the trivia game ended, with Gus emerging as the clear winner, the friendly competition had everyone in high spirits, and now it was time for the much-anticipated moment: opening the wrapped gifts.

You gathered the colorful packages, each one tied with cheerful ribbons and adorned with heartfelt tags.

The first gift you unwrapped was from Amity. It came in a shimmering purple bag, and as you carefully lifted the tissue paper, you found a beautifully crafted crystal pendant. The pendant was shaped like a star, with intricate details that caught the light in a mesmerizing way.

Amity watched with a hopeful smile as you admired the pendant. “I thought it might be a nice reminder of the stars we’ve spent so many nights talking about,” she explained.

You were touched by the thoughtful gift and hugged Amity gratefully. “It’s perfect, Amity. Thank you so much!” you said, your voice filled with warmth.

The next gift was from Luz. In her yellow gift bag, you discovered a small, leather-bound journal. The journal’s pages were blank, inviting you to fill them with your thoughts, dreams, and magical discoveries. Luz had added a personal touch by writing a heartfelt note on the first page, expressing her pride in your achievements and her hopes for your future. You rushed over to hug her tightly.

Luz’s said enthusiastically. “I’m glad you like it. I thought it would be perfect for your new adventures,” she said, her tone filled with sincerity.

After that, you made sure to open each gift and to express gratitude with heartfelt joy.

Eda had gifted you a charming, hand-carved wooden charm that depicted a playful owl. The charm was both whimsical and meaningful, capturing Eda’s unique sense of magic and mischief. “I figured you could use a bit of my own brand of luck,” Eda said with a wink. “Besides, owls are good for keeping watch!”

Lilith’s gift was a beautifully crafted set of magical candles, each one infused with different enchantments. There was a candle for relaxation, one for focus, and another for inspiration. “These are to help you with your studies and your adventures,” Lilith explained with a warm smile. “Light them when you need a little extra magic.”

Gus’s gift was a set of magical quills and enchanted ink. Gus had been excited to see you use them, and his enthusiasm was evident. “I just knew you’d appreciate these for your notes and sketches,” he had said. “Be careful with that though. Only write with the bright green ink when you want something to come to life!”

Willow’s present was a collection of enchanted botanical seeds. Each seed had its own magical properties, such as glowing flowers or plants that could change colors with the seasons. “I thought you’d enjoy growing these,” Willow said with a shy but proud smile. “They’re a little bit of nature’s magic for your home.”

Next, was Hooty’s gift. The eccentric owl had been practically bursting with excitement, his eyes gleaming as he hopped around. With a dramatic flourish, he coughed up a large, oddly-shaped package that landed with a soft thud in front of you.

As you carefully peeled away the wrapping dripping with salvia, you discovered a bizarre but intriguing gift: a large, enchanted plushie that looked like a cross between a fuzzy critter and a whimsical creature. The plushie had multiple eyes and an array of mismatched limbs that wiggled amusingly.

Hooty, still brimming with enthusiasm, explained, “Surprise! I thought you could use a little friend to keep you company. This is Hooty’s special buddy, Fluffernox!”

“Haha…” You held the disturbing stuffed animal at arms length. “Thanks… Hooty…”

Lastly, you turned your attention to Hunter’s gift. His hands trembled slightly as you carefully untied the ribbon and unfolded the wrapping paper. Inside was a small, intricately carved wooden box. You noticed that the lid of the box had your initials. As you lifted the lid, you discovered a delicate, handcrafted palisman. The palisman was adorned with symbols and a subtle glow, reflecting the effort and care Hunter had put into its creation.

You were momentarily speechless, your eyes wide with amazement. “Hunter… This is incredible!” you finally managed to say, your voice filled with awe. “I’m truly surprised. It’s beautiful.” You held up the small creature, admiring it’s weight in your hand and the aesthetic.

Hunter leaned in, his hair brushing lightly against your forehead as he gently cupped your hands, holding the palisman between you. “All it needs to come to life is to know your deepest desire,” he whispered, his voice soft and intent. The warmth of his hands and the fresh scent of his shampoo made your pulse quicken. Heat rose to your cheeks, but Hunter was so focused on the palisman, he didn’t notice the way your gaze lingered on him.

“I—” you hesitated, the words catching in your throat. What was your deepest desire? What did you truly want? The weight of that question felt almost unbearable, and you swallowed hard, feeling the pressure of the moment closing in. Now was the time to tell them—about your future, your plans, everything.

You gently pulled your hands back, allowing the palisman to fall into Hunter’s palms. His expression shifted to one of confusion, but before he could ask, you stepped away, the silence from everyone around you suddenly heavy. Their eyes were on you—waiting, watching. You felt as though the weight of their expectations was pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe.

Your hand trembled as you clenched it into a tight fist, trying to steady yourself. You took a deep breath, scanning the faces of the people you cherished. They all looked at you with concern, curiosity, and affection.

“I… I have something to tell you guys,” you finally managed, your voice cracking just a little under the pressure. The words hung in the air, each one harder to say than the last. “I’m staying in the Human Realm.”

They blinked Everyone stared at you, stunned. You could feel the weight of their surprise, their confusion, and the sharp, heavy moment that seemed to stretch between all of you.

The silence that followed your announcement felt endless, thick with shock. You could see the confusion in their eyes, the sudden tension between excitement and uncertainty. Even Hooty, usually brimming with chatter, was silent, his long body frozen in place.

Luz instantly stood up, her wide eyes reflecting disbelief before she finally broke the silence. “Wait… you’re staying?” Her voice was a mix of confusion and hurt.

You nodded, your throat tightening. “Yeah. I got accepted into my dream university in the human world. It’s… it’s a huge opportunity for me.”

Amity’s eyes widened in understanding, but there was a flicker of sadness. She squeezed Luz’s hand. “You didn’t tell us. All this time, you’ve been planning to leave?”

“I didn’t know how to say it,” you admitted, feeling your heart pound harder in your chest. “I didn’t want to make anyone upset.”

Eda let out a low whistle, crossing her arms. Her usual smirk was replaced with something else, something more thoughtful. “Well, kid, that’s one heck of an announcement. I get it, though. You’ve got big dreams.”

Gus, stepped forward with his usual enthusiasm dimmed by concern. “Does this mean you won’t be coming back? Like, ever?”

Hunter, still holding the palisman in his hands, was the quietest. His magenta eyes darted between you and the small creature. His mouth opened slightly, but he hesitated to speak, clearly grappling with what this meant.

The pressure from their reactions hit you hard, and you tried to steady yourself. “I didn’t tell you guys sooner because…” you paused, taking a shaky breath, “because I wasn’t sure. It wasn’t an easy decision, but after everything that’s happened, I think it’s what I need.”

Luz’s lips trembled, her hand gripping Amity’s tighter. “But we’re your family too,” she said softly, her voice breaking slightly. “Are we… not enough?”

Her words cut deep, and you felt your heart ache as you tried to explain. “It’s not about that,” you said quickly, “it’s not about any of you not being enough. I love you all so much. But… I have a life back in the Human Realm. I’ve worked so hard to get into this university. I need to follow through with that, with my own future.”

Eda let out a small sigh and rubbed the back of her neck. “You’ve got to do what feels right for you, kid,” she said, her voice softer now. “It’s a tough call, but… I get it.”

Hunter, finally finding his voice, spoke quietly. “And the palisman…?” His eyes searched yours, his fingers brushing over the wooden surface. “It won’t come to life if you don’t… if you’re not here.”

You looked down at the palisman, the weight of his words sinking in. This creature, a symbol of magic, connection, and belonging in the Boiling Isles, would never awaken in the Human Realm. You felt a pang of guilt, but you stood by your choice.

Hunter didn’t said anything else, but his eyes met yours for a brief moment. There was something deeper in his gaze—something that made your stomach flutter with uncertainty. Finally, he broke the silence. “I’m happy for you,” he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with something unspoken. “This palisman… it’s for you, wherever you go.”

He reached out his arm, beckoning for you to take the palisman. You looked up at him and then back towards the creature. “Thank you, Hunter.” You said, your voice heavy. “I’ll—”

“Will you be gone forever?” Willow’s voice trembled, her lips quivering. She adjusted her glasses to hide the sight of tears brimming the edges of her eyes.

You shook your head quickly. “No, I mean—I’ll visit, of course. I’m not disappearing forever. I just… I need to do this. For myself.”

Lilith reached out and squeezed your arm gently. “We’re happy for you, you know? It’s just… we’re going to miss you.” She was the first to squish you into a hug. Everyone else followed suit, attaching themselves to you as if they could somehow keep you from leaving by holding you close. It was overwhelming, the way everyone piled on with their arms wrapped around you—each hug a reminder of the bond you shared.

“We’ll be like one of those inter-dimensional friend groups!” Gus continued, his voice muffled by the group hug. “We’ll visit you in the Human Realm, and you can visit us here. It’ll be epic!”

Luz, still clinging tightly to you, added, “Yeah! We’ve got portals! Nothing’s stopping us from seeing you.” "You better not forget about me, your majesty!" King puff out his chest. "After all, who else is going to teach you about ruling the world? I can’t have my future co-ruler running off to the Human Realm without a plan!"

Hunter stood a little apart, watching quietly. His arms folded across his chest, but you could tell he was trying to process it all in his own way. He still held the palisman carefully, his fingers tracing the edges absentmindedly.

As for Hooty, he'd suddenly stretch his long, bendy body over to you, making his presence known with his usual unsettling enthusiasm. "OH, (Y/N), MY BEST FRIEND IN THE WHOLE WORLD! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME!" He’d dramatically sob, then in a disturbing twist, he’d blurt out, "Do you need a Hooty-sized suitcase? I can pack myself inside and come with you!"

You looked at the weird creature. Hooty was… unexplainable. You were gonna miss him.

Eda, ever the practical one, ruffled your hair gently. “Kid, you’ve gotta do what makes you happy. We’ll survive without you... somehow,” she teased, but there was a glimmer of emotion in her eyes too.

As the hugs loosened and everyone stepped back, the weight of the moment settled in. You weren’t disappearing from their lives, but things would be different. There was a bittersweetness in the air, knowing that this was a goodbye of sorts—not forever, but for now.

As the group slowly dispersed, leaving you a moment to catch your breath, you faced the blond boy. He stood there quietly, his hands shoved into his pockets, his gaze shifting between you and the sky above.

"Hey," you said softly, trying to catch his eye.

He looked at you, his usual guarded expression softer than you’d seen it before. “(Y/n)…” he replied, though his voice was quieter than usual. It was like he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find the words. For a moment, there was silence—neither of you quite knowing what to say.

“I... I guess this is it, huh?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze finally lifted, and you could see the mixture of emotions swirling in his magenta eyes—uncertainty, sadness, and something else that made your heart skip a beat.

You offered him a small smile, stepping closer until you were only a breath away. “It’s not goodbye, Hunter,” you said softly. “It’s more like... see you later.”

He nodded, though his shoulders still seemed tense. “Yeah, but... it won’t be the same. I won’t be able to just... you know, see you whenever.” His hand clenched around the palisman for a moment before he loosened his grip, offering it to you again. “Here. Take it. You should have it.”

You reached out and gently closed your hand over his, pushing the it back toward him. “No, Hunter,” you said, your voice steady. “I want you to keep it safe for me. That way... I’ll have a reason to come back. To see you.”

Hunter’s breath hitched slightly, and his eyes widened in surprise. For a moment, it was as if the world had quieted around the two of you. Then, with a soft exhale, he smiled—a real, genuine smile that lit up his face in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“I... I’ll keep it safe,” he promised, his voice more certain now. “And... I’ll be here. Waiting.”

Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him in a tight, warm hug. He stiffened for a second, clearly taken by surprise, but then he slowly relaxed into the embrace, his arms wrapping around you in return. It was a quiet, tender moment—no words needed, just the unspoken understanding between you.

“I’ll miss you,” you whispered, your cheek resting against his shoulder.

Hunter’s grip tightened slightly, his breath warm against your hair. “I’ll miss you too,” he whispered back, his voice soft but full of sincerity.

As everyone murmured in agreement to start star gazing, Hunter tugged you along to a soft picnic blanket. As the night grew deeper and the stars twinkled above, a particularly bright one caught your eye. It shimmered in the sky, a little brighter than the rest, almost like it was watching over you. You recognized it immediately, your breath catching in your throat.

“The Wishmaker Star,” you whispered, pointing it out to Hunter.

Hunter’s eyes followed your gesture, widening when he saw it. “What would you wish for?” Hunter’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant, as he looked over at you. His hand was still wrapped in yours, grounding you in the present.

You looked up at the star, thinking about everything—your journey, the friendships you’d built, and the uncertain path that lay ahead in the human world. But then your gaze shifted to Hunter, sitting beside you, his face illuminated by the soft starlight. After a long pause, you answered.

“I don’t think I need to make a wish,” you said softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I already have everything I need. Friends who care about me... and people I’ll always come back to.”

Hunter’s expression softened, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “I think I’d wish for the same thing,” he murmured, glancing back at the Wishmaker Star. “To keep what I’ve found.”

A moment of comfortable silence passed between you, the star continuing to shine brightly above, as if blessing the quiet bond you shared. You leaned your head against Hunter’s shoulder, your heart full, and together, you both watched as the star slowly began to fade into the night.

And as it vanished into the sea of stars, leaving only its soft glow behind, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. Wishes weren’t always about longing for something new—they could be about holding onto the moments and people you already had. And under that starlit sky, you knew that no matter where life took you, this connection, this feeling, would stay with you—just like the legend of the Wishmaker Star.

Hunter whispered, almost to himself, “Maybe we didn’t need the star to grant our wish. Maybe it’s already come true.”

And under the vast, starry sky, with the warmth of his hand in yours, you couldn’t help but think he was right.

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hufflepuffsthunderdome · 16 days ago

Text

Guyliner

Pairing: Dude Ranch Era!Tom Delonge x Fem!Reader

A/N: part two is here my loves! This can be read as a stand alone piece but read the first part here. I'm pretty happy with this but that feels a bit cocky to admit so read for yourself ❤

Summary: Tom and Y/N can't shake the tension that's risen since their almost kiss. Tom's nerves and inability to do his own eyeliner finally bring it to light.

Y/N sat on Tom’s bed, legs crossed under her as she picked at her nails absent mindedly, waiting for Tom to get ready. “What are you stressing out for?” she asks, looking up at her friend watching as he rummages around his drawers, throwing out clothes with a huff when they’re not to his liking, “you’re just gonna have to pick those up later,” she grumbles, going back to picking at her nails, sneaking a quick glance back up as Tom runs a hand through his hair.

Tom groans in frustration, and Y/N feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up at the sound, a tingle running down her spine. It’s been like that a lot recently, since they nearly kissed; casual touches and looks that suddenly have Y/N feeling breathless when she’s around her friend. There’s a feeling bubbling deep in her stomach that she’s trying to ignore.

She’d never really thought about him like that before, or at least she thought she hadn’t. With the sudden revelation of her less than platonic feelings for her friend she’s starting to think that maybe she had and just never let herself dwell on it. All the stolen glances, the late nights giggling together, the sick feeling in her throat when he’d talk to other girls; she feels like an idiot for thinking that was all platonic. Your heart doesn’t pound like hers does when you look at a friend.

“I just… wanna look good,” Tom mumbles, pulling out a different shirt and holding it up to him as he turns to Y/N questioningly. She nods and shrugs in approval and before she can even ask why it mattered so much, Tom is yanking his shirt off and pulling the other one on. Y/N look away suddenly, feeling bad for the quick glimpse she got of Tom’s torso that leaves her cheeks hot.

Tom had been hyping himself up for tonight all week. They were going to see some random gig, but Tom was dead set on telling her how he felt by the end of the night. His feelings had continued to grow at an alarming rate since their almost kiss and Tom was starting to feel like he was going crazy. Just the thought of her had his heart racing. Even the way she was sitting there, legs crossed on his bed, totally oblivious to how cute she looked, had him feeling faint.

He had planned the night to near perfection; he was gonna be looking sharp, they were gonna go to see the band and he was going to be so charming and witty and smooth that Y/N was gonna be throwing herself into his arms by the end of the night. Of course in his daydreaming he failed to remember that the pair pretty much always got ready to go to things like this together, and he nearly puked when he answered the doorbell to find Y/N standing there, looking up at him with a bright smile.

Now here he was, trying desperately to pretend that Y/N being there didn’t melt his brain as he stood in front of the mirror with shaky hands, trying to do his eyeliner. It’s something he’s been doing for a few weeks now, since he overhead Y/N gushing about some guitarist she saw that did it. He had shrugged when Y/N asked about it, “I just wanted to try it out,” vowing to himself to keep wearing it forever when Y/N giggled and told him it looked good.

“Fuck,” Tom cursed, stabbing himself in the eye and dropping the pencil, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Tom, take it easy,” Y/N giggles softly, getting up and going over to lean next to him against his dresser, “seriously take a breath Tom you’re gonna give yourself a fucking heart attack stressing out like this,” she says, smiling up at him, a bit concerned, as she takes the pencil from his hand gently. Their hands touching only making Tom feel more flustered, but he forces himself to take a deep breath in and out.

She fiddles with the eyeliner pencil, “do you want some help?” she asks, softly. Tom stares at her, words stuck in throat as he nods, following her over to the bed. He sits next to her, unable to look at her, trying to calm his nerves as she gently turns his face towards her, “you’ll have to look at me if you want me to do your eyeliner,” she teases, her own heart racing as she cups his face gently.

She looks up at him shyly, biting her lip in concentration as she brings the pencil up to his eye, “look up.”

He does as she says and she gently draws a line below his eye, smudging it out gently with her finger, trying not to poke Tom in the eye. “Look at me,” she says gently, drawing another line above his top lashes, her hand gently cupping his face as she focuses. Tom feel’s like he can’t breath, staring down at her speechless as she gazes up at him, focusing intently. She finishes on his first eye and stares at him for a minute, words stuck on the tip of her tongue.

She breaths out shakily as she looks away for a second, trying to compose herself, her soft breath hitting Tom’s face as he feels heat rising up his neck. She moves to do the second eye, smudging the eyeliner as she stares in concentration.

Tom is so fucked. As he looks at her he takes in the features of her face, reviling in the closeness that he doesn’t get to have often. Her eyes sparkle as she looks at him, her tongue coming out to lick her lip, and Tom has to desperately fight the urge to press his lips to hers. He’s been dreaming about her lips against his for as long as they’ve known each other, imagining the feeling them press against his softly, her lip-gloss sweet, sticking to his mouth, her hands tangled in his hair. He so desperately wants to kiss her it’s making his hands shake.

His throat feels tight as she reaches up to smudge the eyeliner a bit, her soft hand against his skin making goosebumps rise on his skin. He stares at her as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, biting it gently as she concentrates, and Tom feels his self control falter.

Before Tom can even realise what he’s doing his shaky hand comes out and he runs his thumb gently along her bottom lip, pulling it out from between her teeth. Her breath catches in her throat at the soft touch as she stares at Tom, his gazed fixed on his thumb pressing against her soft lips.

She can feel the tension, her heart pounding in her ears as she watches him stare at her lips. “Tom…” she says almost breathlessly, her words being cut off by Tom’s lips being pressed into hers. The kiss is gentle, nervous, as Tom feels like his skin is on fire at the feeling of her soft lips against his. He waits for a second, desperately hoping she’ll kiss him back, before pulling away a bit stunned by his own action.

The pair stare at each other, Y/N’s eyes wide, shifting from his lips to meet his eyes, and Tom feels frozen, unable to move despite the dread now sinking in in the pit of his stomach. Neither of them say anything, the tension thick as they sit in silence, Y/N trying to process what just happened, Tom trying to work up the nerve to speak.

In what feels like slow motion Y/N is leaning in again, pressing her lips to his in a much firmer kiss. Their mouths move against each other desperately as Tom wraps his arms around Y/N’s waist, hers going around his neck and the pair pull each other closer. They stay there for a long time, passionately kissing as the months of tension vanish.

Tom pulls away with a start as he feels his phone buzzing away in his pocket, breaking him from his lovesick daze. He fumbles with it, one hand still wrapped around Y/N, flustered as she gazes at him lovingly, hand playing with his hair gently. He looks down at the phone, blush rising on his cheek as he feels Y/N’s breath against him, “it’s Mark,” he mumbles.

Y/N reaches out and takes the phone, gently tossing it aside, taking Tom’s hand, “just ignore him,” she whispers, pressing her lips to his again.

#tom delonge #blink 182 #blink 182 x reader #tom delonge x reader #tom delonge fluff #pop punk #2000s emo #fanfic authors #pop punk fanfiction

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astramthetaprime · 2 months ago

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State of the Funyun, 9/22/24

So Things Have Happened.

Two weeks ago I got called in to a meeting with my supervisor. The previous two times this has happened I've been threatened with being fired, so I was thinking "here we go" on the walk of doom. But strangely, no! I was offered to transfer to another job in the company that they thought might suit me better. Yeah, I know, "might suit me better" is code for "this is your last chance you failure". I'm not completely oblivious. Even I can see the writing on the wall when it's printed in 108pt neon orange.

I started learning the new job last week and I'm already doing real work. Like, actual real work. Correctly.

I'm being trained by the person who is getting traded to my old department for me and she's a former schoolteacher. I don't hide the autism, I told her when it was relevant. So I get treated like a third grader with getting interrupted to check on me a dozen times a day, which okay, I understand but the frustration at being interrupted when I'm concentrating is something I'm trying my best to control. She's a really nice person and she doesn't deserve that. Also I just don't like feeling like a putz. But I'm working again. After four months of feeling like I was going to be fired at any moment for not being given work to do, it's a vast improvement. No one likes to feel useless and even fewer people like to be made to feel scapegoated for other people's choices. But it is what it is, and I'm glad to be out of it.

Best of all about this new job, once I'm trained I'll be working from home. This is especially welcome as I'm proving less and less able to handle morning and evening rush hour traffic. After about a dozen close calls and near misses, my nerves are frazzled when it comes to driving in the hail of bullets that is rush hour traffic. Where is the shining future of autonomous cars I was promised?

Speaking of, there was a kerfuffle with the windshield wipers on my car lately. The motor that runs the wipers broke, so no wipers. We've been under pretty much drought conditions here at Tranquility House and the surrounding environs for quite some time, we just haven't been getting any rain hardly at all. Seriously, I can't tell you how many times I've seen the entire eastern part of the country covered in masses of storms ... except for this one little blob in SE Tennessee. It's like seeing the effects of some pissed-off wizard curse. Dude, I get you just washed the Audi but dang, have you looked at the lake lately?

Anyway, so because I drive a 17 year old car the repair shop had to order in the parts. Waited and waited, a couple weeks goes by, hot damn they're predicting rain! But! I can't drive in the rain because no wipers. No word from the shop, so I called. They were, shall we say, less than enthusiastic and no word when the parts would be in. I got lucky, it didn't rain as predicted, it still hasn't rained in fact, so no harm done. The part finally did come in, I had arranged to take my car in before I went in to work and use their shuttle service to go the rest of the way in to work. Their shuttles run at 45 minutes past the hour, it's literally 2 miles away, all good, right? Wrong! They just didn't run the shuttle at 745. Just didn't. Even though I'd arranged to take it that morning. And didn't bother telling me.

Yeah so I waited for half an hour and no shuttle so I called an Uber. For a two mile drive. I was almost late for work. My workplace is good about letting folks come in anytime between 6 AM and 9 AM, so it's all good, but I'm used to being there at 8. And was almost late anyway.

And that reminds me, the day before this happened I went to the doctor for the follow up of the two weeks of Adderall I was prescribed because my NP now thinks I may be ADHD. I thought she had prescribed me more Adderall, there was talk about upping the dosage so I thought she had but didn't get the automated "You have prescriptions ready" text from my pharmacy. I physically went to go check and nothing. So I dunno. Maybe she didn't because I told her I felt antsy about it because what if I get pulled over by the cops and I've got half a bottle of Adderall in my bag and it's not medically necessary because I don't have an actual diagnosis for ADHD yet. She told me she'd confirm to the cops it was needed if that ever happened but does anyone honestly believe the cops are going to bother with that? They'd just see another crackhead amphetamin addict and my life would be over. Once you're tarred with that particular brush you'll never get a job again.

If you're not just outright shot by the cops in another "traffic stop that went wrong."

Yeah, so on the whole things are looking up somewhat, call it cautiously optimistic.

#state of the funyun 2024 #autism

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phantom-rambling · 1 year ago

Photo

(Read part one first.)

Tim sits on the couch with his legs folded under him. He bounces a knee to try to keep himself calm as he stares at the body strewn on the brown chaise cushion opposite him.

Unconscious body. Not dead body. They are pretty cold, though. No matter what Tim does to warm them up or wake them. But they’re breathing. A little. Should he get them to a hospital? Is there even a hospital to go to? Maybe if he went back--just for a second. He could dump them there and run. Of course, they’ll talk when they wake up. “It’s simple, nurse. Me, a superhero person, almost died in this crazy magic nowhere house I found. The guy there fed me crappy eggs, erased the stairs, morphed into a smurf, and then told me his legal name.” Smooth move, Turner. That won’t raise any alarms.

He could make them not tell. But. No. He really shouldn’t. It’d probably just get him in more trouble in the long run, anyway.

He’s been dancing around the point with this argument for an hour.

It’s too late. He’s already toast.

Tim looks at the body. They’re wearing some school gym shirt. Some jeans. Sneakers. Black hair. Patchy stubble. Zit marks.

They were never here to hurt him. They’re just… some dude. Who got lost. Weird powers or not.

Tim’s guts wind up with guilt. He rubs his face.

The body’s foot twitches. It hasn’t done that so far.

Tim leans forward and raises a pointer finger, then hesitates.

He pokes the foot.

The guest’s head jerks up, along with the rest of them. About a foot off the couch, with hangtime. They pull themself back down when they see Tim.

Tim breathes a huge sigh of relief.

His guest’s eyes dart around the room before noticing that he’s lost his weird glowy clothes.

“Yeah you fainted,” Tim throws out. “You didn’t look hurt but–I mean you’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, I think I’m okay,” the guest replies slowly.

“Good. Things got kind of scary for a second there. Hey, how did you do the whole quick change trick?”

The guest glances away with their mouth pressed in frustration.

“It’s a secret. Nobody’s supposed to see it happen.” They take a phone out of their pocket and start trying to get it to work.

“Oh. Then, don’t worry. Never happened.” Tim waves a hand dismissively.

The guest looks up.

“Really?”

Tim nods.

“Dude, I tried to shoot you.”

Tim shrugs.

“That phone’s probably dead, by the way,” he remarks, not skipping a beat. “And you might need another nap. I went out there once, and I wound up eating half the food in the house and sleeping all day. I think it uses cool shiny stuff to lure people into it, but it doesn’t work if you just use a lasso.” Tim swallows his nerves. “You probably came here from somewhere else, and you were really confused and sick, and I just made that worse by being a cagey jerk. And I’m really sorry.”

His guest puts the phone away and sits up.

“It’s fine. I’ve had much worse, trust me. Where are we, though--really?”

“This is my house. I made it.”

“Yeah, but where is it?”

“Well, it’s hard to explain, but–it’s a pocket in space. Temporarily. I’m the one who’s just passing through. I really wasn’t trying to scare you. I’m just not that good at using… this stuff I have. I can’t even get food to taste right. Or get this to stop.” He points at his hair, which has slowed to a lazy gradient of yellow, blue, and green.

“Why’d you make your house into a labyrinth?”

“I dunno. I was just copying stuff out of a magazine, and I kept needing more room. But seriously. If I don’t tell anybody about you, you can’t tell anybody about me or my house.” He gets up on his knees and puts his hands together in plea. “I would be so, so screwed.”

The guest smirks sympathetically.

“Deal. Uh, what was your name again?”

“It’s Tim. He/him.”

They extend a hand to shake.

“Same here. I’m Danny. Danny Phantom, professionally.”

Tim takes it firmly.

“That’s a rad name! I guess you see weird stuff like this all the time, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. Especially out here. I ran into a crab monster that almost took my head off.”

“There are monsters in the black void thing?”

“No, no. In the Ghost Zone.”

“The...”

"The big green place attached to the real world. I can’t imagine how anything could survive in the trench I fell into.”

Tim goes numb.

“...You okay?”

“I’VE BEEN SITTING HERE FISHING FOR MONTHS, AND THERE WAS A WHOLE WORLD JUST OUTSIDE THE BLACK PART?! ALSO–GHOSTS? YOU’RE A GHOST?!” Tim claps a hand over his mouth. “Ohh. That was the secret, wasn’t it?”

Danny chuckles.

“Well, I kinda gave it away,” he admits. “I’m half ghost. Er, a cross-dimensional mutant, depending on how you look at it.”

“That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“But you must be, too. How else could you do stuff like this?” Danny gestures at the pitcher still on the table.

Tim sits back and folds his arms defensively. His hair darkens to magenta.

“I–I’m not. I mean, I’m not super sure I know much of anything about this, anymore. But I can’t tell you any of what I do know. If I say too much, it’ll raise a red flag, and some guys will find me who are trying to take me away and wipe my memory. Or throw me in jail. Prob’ly both.” He rubs his elbows nervously. “Pretty sure I’m not dead, though.”

Danny’s eyebrows knit.

“Are these guys government agents in suits?”

Tim shakes his head.

“Uh. Well. Sometimes. They could technically look like anything, but the ones at the top usually just wear robes.”

“Are they ancient judgemental blobs of goop with a big eye in the middle?”

“Uh, the first and second things, yes. Third and fourth things, no.”

“Huh.”

Tim looks down and catches himself picking at his fingernails. There are little chips of lime green paint on the sofa cushion. He opens a hand, and a thick rubber band appears out of thin air in a tiny puff of dust.

Danny winces, fighting a sneeze.

“That’s it. That’s what’s been bugging me,” he exclaims, rubbing his nose with a wrist. “It definitely doesn’t feel like ectoplasm.”

Tim winds the rubber band around his fingers, looking nervous.

“Are they wormholes?” Danny asks.

“No.”

“But it’s memetic, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Is it a photon thing?”

“Stop guessing!”

“Okay, okay. Sorry. Can you at least tell me where you’re from?”

“Somewhere else,” Tim answers quickly.

Danny takes a second to process the meaning.

“And there’s more than one somewhere else?”

“Uh-huh. Lots more.”

Danny rubs his forehead.

“Okay. Sure, I can deal with that,” he mutters with discomfort.

“Honest, it’s nothing to worry about. I’m not planning on being here long. I can drop you off wherever you want, and you can go back to doing your thing.”

Danny considers. He doesn’t get far. His head has gone back to swimming.

“Who am I kidding? I’m not going anywhere like this. I probably couldn’t even fly straight if I tried.”

“That’s fine. You can stay if you want.” Tim pulls the rubber band down to his wrist and musters a question. “In… in that case, you think you could tell me more about the ghost stuff?”

“Uh, sure.”

It turns out that there’s quite a lot to tell. Danny goes on nostalgically about the days when he, Sam, and Tucker were stumbling their way through their first year or two of ghost encounters.

The whole era is a little cringeworthy for Danny to look back on, with all the close calls and petty mistakes. At the same time, he can’t help but feel the sweeping moments of triumph at the size they were when he was so small and outmatched. Listing off all the enemies they faced is staggering even to him. He even remembers a few of his best one-liners in combat. He keeps waiting for Tim to lose interest, but his host only gets more enraptured as the tale goes on. Danny’s already feeling better, too. Lucky, since he has to stand up in order to fully animate the time a legion of bayonet-wielding undead soldiers swept through Amity Park with a headless chain of commanders at their heels. Tim holds his knees close to his chest with eyes fixed forward. He only flinches at the moment where an ear splitting cannon shot ripped through the sky–and nearly Danny.

The later years were different. Danny and his friends weren’t just beating back monsters and dead guys anymore. As they grew closer with ghosts, enemies became allies and allies became friends. There was still no shortage of rowdy ghosts to wrangle, but it more often came down to unraveling the circumstances that put them there, leading to bizarre new discoveries about the Ghost Zone’s lore and inhabitants. The really tough cases usually took the form of corrupt officials, paranoid vigilantes, and the ever-growing presence of the Guys In White. Danny spends so many days and nights on patrol now that the Ghost Zone feels like the only place he can relax.

“Geez. How do you find time to sleep?” Tim asks.

“I don’t need to anymore. I think this is the first nap I’ve had in a couple months.”

“Is that a normal ghost thing?”

“Yes,” Danny replies, visibly unsure if that’s true.

“Aren’t your friends around to help you?”

“They were, up until last year.” There’s something sorrowful in his delivery.

Tim’s brows knit with disbelief.

“They didn’t just up and quit, did they?”

“No! They only agreed to let it go because I had it handled. The stakes got bigger so I got tougher, and they’re… still just human, y’know? I can’t blame them for wanting to move on.” Again, Danny looks a little less than sure of his words. “The truth is, I’m trying to find a way to hang it up, too.”

Tim sits bolt upright.

“Why?!” His hair turns orange.

“Because I’m not a kid anymore. Sam and Tucker are already at college, and I’m stuck here trying to make sure the whole town doesn’t get overrun.”

“Can’t you just go to a college nearby?” Tim asks blankly.

“That’s not the point,” Danny insists. “I told Tucker I’d catch up with him next semester in California, and I have zero time to do the long-distance thing with Sam, and–I dunno, maybe the three of us could pick back up where we left off after we graduate. But I can’t just let myself get left behind playing superhero.”

“Bullshit!” Tim exclaims, leaping to his feet on the cushions and pointing accusatorily. He retracts his energy a little at Danny’s stung face. “Sorry. It’s just–You’re not ‘playing’ anything! You went through so much to get good at your powers. You don’t have to follow anybody’s stupid rules, and you’re not a huge jerk about it. Er, anymore, I guess.”

Danny glances away as Tim struggles to get his point together.

“And... god, there is so much stuff in life that’s boring and unfair. You’ve already got something that’s yours, and you can actually do something with it. That’s huge! You can’t just let it go. Who knows how long you’ll have it?”

Danny stares pensively at the floor.

Tim sits on the back of the couch with his mouth shut. His hair rapidly changes from shade to shade.

Danny has a seat too, suddenly feeling tired again. “It’s funny. Sam and Tucker were the ones who were into the whole ghost powers thing from the start. I thought it was a curse. I kept looking for ways to get rid of it so my life could go back to normal and I could grow up and go away to be an astronaut. But they kept saying how unique it made me and how I could use it to rise to the occasion. Even the score. Help people. And it turns out they were right. It’s a part of me, now. I can’t picture my life without it. Flying around the city at night’s only a chore when I keep getting shot at. Also, it turns out that the Ghost Zone actually has a lot in common with the celestial body formations and electromagnetic radiation patterns in deep space. Who knew?”

Tim’s eyes finally glaze over just a little.

“And that would be great and everything. It just means that the part where I got to do it with my best friends is over. And I feel like I wasted the last of the time I had chasing…”

“Ghosts.” Tim tries not to grin.

“Well, Guys in White, mostly.”

“Then why’d you say you had it handled?”

Danny sighs.

“I did,” he explains. “I spent the whole winter kicking the Guys out of town. But they came right back the next summer. They’re like vermin.”

“So? Kick ‘em out harder!”

“It’s not that easy.”

Danny goes on to describe how the government vans had rolled back into city limits with an arsenal of new technology and jurisdiction–signed off by some lackey of the Secretary of Defense with the aim of “containing and studying” the ghost presence in Amity Park and all surrounding areas. They immediately started setting up surveillance and restrictive measures on the townspeople. And Vlad, forever-mayor of the century, has been funding them and letting them do whatever they want as long as they stay out of his obviously evil, illegal, and ghost-related agenda. Anything to grant himself as much control over the city as possible. The Guys’ actual ghost-hunting exercises do little more than break down shaky truces and city blocks–all blamed on Danny, of course. The spirits they do catch wind up as creepy bioweapon experiments or unwilling informants. There are actually more ghost incidents than ever, as the animosity between the living and dead continues to climb. The ghosts are getting crafty–forming plans and alliances Danny can only ever catch the tail of. These days, it feels like he can never quite be sure if he’s being watched or who to trust, no matter where he is.

Tim continues to be blown away and takes a second to form a response.

“That’s crazy. What about that Red Huntress lady? And your sister?”

“Which one?”

“The clone one. Adopted one.”

“Dani.”

“Yeah. Are they gone too?”

“No, they’re still there. They were actually gonna take over for me after I left. But I can’t just leave them with the whole Guys mess.”

“Why not? There’s two of them and one of you.”

“Because,” Danny reluctantly answers.

Tim opens his hands expectantly.

“Okay, here’s the thing,” Danny explains. “Dani is a kid.”

“So were you.”

“Yeah, and I almost died. A lot. What the Guys are doing is worse than anything I faced when I was her age. Also, she’s not coming at this from where I did. She doesn’t go out to fight ghosts and train every night. She just wants to have a home and a family and show up to school about 80% of the time. Handling the Guys is my job. She shouldn’t have to deal with any of this.”

“But she does anyway cause she’s scared.”

“Exactly. And Va–Huntress has always been on the fence about what side she’s on. We started settling our differences a couple years ago, but she mostly did her own thing. She was more willing to team up after the Guys came back, which I thought was great. But then, I caught her letting out a bunch of random ghosts to go after a heavily guarded surveillance outpost.”

“I thought she didn’t like ghosts,” Tim interjects.

“She doesn’t. She can barely stand me. It was clearly an act of desperation.”

“So, they were also scared.”

“And so was I. Especially when I found out she was roping Dani into it. I tried to talk them out of it, but they wouldn’t listen. So I had to go in and–y’know–control the situation. But it turns out I couldn’t handle it either, and I screwed up and wound up kicking the Guys up to defcon-two. And now everything’s worse and neither of them are talking to me and all the ghosts and the people in town think I’m not on their side anymore.”

Danny doesn’t realize how fast he’s been talking until he’s out of words and breathless.

Tim stares, his chin in his hands.

Danny takes a long breath and continues steadily.

“The only way I can think to fix it is to do something really stupid like getting my hands on a cursed object or a ghost weapon with enough power to throw the whole operation out for good. Which would probably do something terrible to me or someone else. But I can’t risk letting the others get hurt because of me. And if I don’t do something soon, it’s just gonna keep getting worse.” He looks at Tim. “And now, I’m sure you’re deeply disappointed to find out what I really am–the world’s biggest screw-up. You probably are better off just getting out of here.”

Tim immediately cracks up laughing. He keeps laughing as Danny sinks into the couch. He sinks and sinks further, his back flat on the seat. Having surrendered himself to the cushions, Danny stares at the ceiling in placid humiliation as he waits for Tim’s wheezing to bring itself to a slow hitching halt.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just. Man, you have no idea.” Tim sucks air sharply to catch his breath. He sweeps the hair out of his eyes, now a garish mix of cyan and red. “Alright, if you’re the world’s biggest screw-up, then I am the screw-up center of the universe. My screw-up-itude transcends time and space. Cause I did exactly what you did, only worse.”

Danny doesn’t move more than an eyebrow, skeptical.

Tim clears his throat and continues.

“So, back home I had…” he stops to choose his words carefully. “Some friends. And some power. But it wasn’t mine. I was borrowing it. And they made all the bad stuff in my life a lot better.” He pauses again and glances around, waiting to be interrupted. He isn’t. “Honestly, I coulda made a lot of other people’s stuff better too, but I wasn’t thinking about it. Anyway. I got a little older, and it was all going to have to go away. Which felt like the end of the world to me. I mean, I was twelve. In fact, I got so upset that I wanted to make sure nobody would ever be able to take them away from me. So, I went somewhere I wasn’t supposed to go and stole something that would let me use some of the power for myself. It went really, really bad. I got in huge trouble. I couldn’t give the thing back. It just was me, now. I ran away, and I just keep running and screwing things up wherever I go. And… I spend all my time thinking about the stuff I wish I’d done differently. But I can’t just make it better because I barely know how to use any of this.” Tim flicks his hand. Danny winces and wrinkles his nose. Tim folds his hand back into his lap and plucks at the rubber band. “The worst part is that I was so sure it was the right thing to do. I was gonna prove that I could fix everything. But I think I was just telling myself that because it meant I wouldn’t have to give anything up. I lost my friends, but they lost me too. They didn’t do anything wrong. But because of me, they didn’t even get to say goodbye. That’s not fair.”

“How old are you?” Danny cuts in.

“Sixteen. You don’t mind taking advice from a sixteen-year-old, do you?”

“No, it’s just weird that it’s making sense.”

Tim snorts and keeps twanging at the rubber band.

“So what would you do if you could go back?” Danny asks.

Tim looks up at the ceiling. The twanging slows to a contemplative beat.

“Things were gonna change no matter what. If I’d leaned into it, I could’ve at least seen where it was gonna go and–tried to steer it, I guess? Cause now, I’ll never know. And all this?” He makes a sweeping gesture at the disembodied house around them. “Sucks. And I’m bad at this ‘growing up’ thing, obviously. But I think if I had the chance to apologize, I’d take it. I’ve made it through a lot of wild stuff I never thought I would, but I definitely coulda used more people on my side. Or, they coulda used me on their side.”

The corner of Danny’s mouth pulls.

“What do you do about missing the days that didn’t suck?”

“I still got ‘em as long as I remember them,” Tim says simply.

Danny concedes, nodding.

“Besides, I might be nuts, but the Huntress’ plan doesn’t sound half bad,” Tim keeps on. “Can you imagine an army of ragtag supernatural rebels and monsters going up against an evil government agency and some rich bootlicking mayor who also has superpowers, oh my god! Everybody’s gotta watch each other’s backs and fight to set the record straight on who the real bad guys are. That’d be amazing!” Tim has gotten up on his feet again, pacing on the cushions and making dynamic poses and sound effects.

It doesn’t sound so bad to Danny, either, when he puts it like that.

“Aa! You’re smiling,” Tim points.

“Alright, alright. It might not be impossible–if we had the right help.”

“Really?? Uh, I would. Agree,” Tim stammers, clutching his fingers modestly. “I bet you have lots of friends you could call.” His hair is bright pink.

“Do… you wanna help?” Danny offers gingerly.

“For real? Even though I’m a kid?” He laces the last word with a little contempt.

“As long as you’re not my sister. Also, you managed to trap me. I’m not sure I could stop you.”

Tim brightens.

“Oh, man. I’m not sure what I could do, but I’ll try and think of something. Like, uh–”

“Having a secret safehouse off the grid?”

“Sure! I’ll work on some other stuff, too. Anything’s better than sitting here alone being a coward.”

Danny’s about to comment when Tim interrupts.

“Can I see your phone?”

His guest uncertainly hands it over. Tim leaps down the stairs and opens a closet in the hall. A drift of anachronous junk spills out. Danny follows. After some digging, Tim produces a plastic pill-shaped brick with buttons on it. He shakes the two phones until they both light up. Danny sneezes. Tim punches in numbers with his thumbs until each has the other’s contact saved. Then, he hands Danny’s back to him.

“Here. Call me if you need anything. Also, since you’ll probably have to tell them about me… Just don’t tell them more than you have to, okay? And no guessing!”

Danny makes a zipping motion across his mouth.

The purple door takes itself to the part of the Ghost Zone where Danny came in. It swings open, and the ghost boy floats out. Tim peeks his head past the frame to have a look at the wavering ethereal depths of green.

“Whoa.”

Danny turns and gives Tim a short salute with two fingers.

“Well, seeya. Thanks for everything.”

“Hey, wait!”

Danny stops.

“Do you have 7/11 here?” Tim asks, his hair trying hard to match the space around it.

“Yeah.”

“Awesome. I’m gettin’ a slurpee, then practice. And shower.”

The door shuts and disappears.

Danny smiles.

He summons the portal home and passes through its membrane, back to his parents’ lab. The steel hazmat doors shut behind him with a pneumatic whir and a clang.

He’s still a little fatigued, but not enough to beat out his urge to check for trouble. His intangible form heads through the wall and up to the street. To his surprise, it doesn’t seem that late. There are several people casually walking around in the dim moonlight. Yellow windows shine into the autumn dark from nearby apartments. His parents must still be up, since the ghost shield’s not even on. Despite all his fretting, he hadn’t thought to check the time yet. He takes out his phone. It’s not even midnight.

He hesitates, then finds a secluded spot and calls Valerie.

It rings.

He’s already composing a voicemail in his head when it picks up at the last second.

“What do you want, Fenton?”

“Hey. Are you busy?”

“Nnno.”

There’s clatter in the speaker, followed by a hushed voice.

“Is that Dani?” Danny asks sharply.

“Hi,” his sister calls sheepishly from the background. “Don’t be mad. We can handle this.”

“Where are you? Are you okay?” he demands.

“We’re fine,” she insists with a whine.

There’s a sudden wail from a rusty hinge and a single sharp cry from an alarm, followed by the swift destruction of electrical components. A low husky voice mutters in a garbled romance language.

“Is that Wulf?”

“Hellooo…” the giant voice rumbles.

“Relax, okay?” Dani assures him. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”

There’s a huge crash.

“What was that?!”

“I’m hanging up now,” Valerie states.

“Wait, wait, wait! I’m sorry. That’s not why I called. Please, I just need you all to listen for a sec.”

Valerie sighs and moves the phone.

“You’ve got three minutes.”

He feels like this might not be the best time for this, but he forces himself not to chicken out.

“I really screwed up the other night.”

“No duh,” the girls say in unison.

“Not just that. I’ve been a control freak through this whole fiasco. The Guys in White are your problem, too. And I don’t get to tell you how to handle it. Because I don’t know. I have no idea how to fix this.” His apology trails into a laugh that quickly burns out. “It was stupid of me to try to fight everybody just so that I could pretend to be in charge. I’m really, really sorry.”

Wulf grunts, but there’s nothing else.

Danny waits in the silence.

“Well,” Valerie says a bit more softly, “you’ve still got some time on the clock. Is there anything else?

Danny rubs his neck, thinking.

“I understand if you don’t want to, but–maybe I could take the back seat for a while and help you guys out instead?”

“I dunno. Are you gonna behave?”

“I’ll do my best. You could always put me in the thermos if I don’t.”

“We’ve already got someone in the thermos,” Dani tells him. “One of Walker’s guys.”

Danny’s tone drops.

“What are the Guys in White doing with Walker?”

“Get over here and find out!”

Danny’s phone buzzes. She just sent him an address.

“On my way.”

He hangs up and flies off into the night.

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

PART 1

The au continues in: An Act of Misdirection

INDEX

(Pardon my insanity. I’ve had a version of Danny and a version of Timmy growing simultaneously in my head, and now they get to hang out.

I also really like the idea of Danny having to deal with new challenges alongside a rotating B-team of people he’s less developed with. Could be interesting.)

#stranger door part 2 #stranger door 2 #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #dp fanfiction #danny phantom au #dp au #danny phantom crossover #phandom

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ventihonklightice · 3 years ago

Text

Clingy || Wilbur Soot

word count: 3.5k

~~~

Y/N had been lounging around the flat all day as her boyfriend filmed videos with his fellow Minecraft friends. Wilbur had currently been recording with Tommy and Quackity, another one of their wild Minecraft mod videos. She knew her love was busy and had his responsibilities with his own videos alongside the ones made with his friends, but she had been scrolling through Twitter and saw that he had just gotten verified. There was no way he knew about the news as he had been busy all day doing his job.

A smile grew on her face as she rushed to his bedroom door to share the great news, however she paused as she heard the nature of his current discussion with his friends.

“- but she’s been good. We’ve been really good,” Y/N smiled at his words, seemingly knowing it was about her. That smile quickly disappeared at the words her boyfriend was about to spew. “Just, she’s been kind of needy and clingy or something,” Wilbur shook his head not fully understanding his own words, looking at the wall behind his monitor too lost in his thoughts. He couldn’t quite understand his own thoughts half of the time, especially today as all he has done was played Minecraft. Slowly, the hate he has been receiving has been catching up to him, forcing him into this pit he’d never thought he’d be in which added to the stress that fueled his words. “Like she thinks she always has to be with me. Right now even, she’s at the flat.” Wilbur ran his fingers through his messy brown hair as he proceeded to explain his relationship. “I love her, I do, but I can’t even be with her right now so I don’t understand why she has to be here,” he confessed, mind clouded with tiredness masked by the wine he downed in an attempt to calm his nerves.

Y/N furrowed her brows leaning forward to listen further. “Well, she loves you, so what do you expect her to do? Not want to be with you?” She heard an American accent, likely belonging to Quackity.

“I-I don’t know. It’s just- I’m not used to this. It’s been a while since I’ve seriously been with a girl like this before. I just need space, but she wants to be around me constantly. It’s annoying.” The anger, the annoyance, and the frustration were all evident in his voice, making Y/N second guess a lot of her choices the past few days. She looked down at her hands, the mustard sleeves reaching past her palms belonging to the man behind the door she leaned on.

She closed her eyes in an attempt to push back her tears before she walked away, not being able to listen to him any further. Her eyes began to water more and more as bothering him was the very last thing she had ever wished to do. She sat on the couch before pulling the jumper off of her body, folding it neatly in her hands before pulling on her shoes.

Fanning her face quickly to reduce any possible puffiness or redness, Y/N timidly knocked on the door to Wilbur’s room. “Hold on guys,” he spoke to his friends, muting himself on discord. “Yeah?” She heard his deep voice call from the other side, taking it as her cue to push the door open. His hair fluffed about as he turned to face her. “Hey what’s up?” He asked with a soft smile.

“I uh think I’m gonna head home, got an early shift tomorrow and all,” she spoke softly while avoiding his gaze. Y/N wasn’t one to lie so she felt guilty for doing so but she didn’t know what else to do.

He furrowed his brows, confused at her words. She almost always stays the night, especially when she works early because he lives closer to her job.

“You sure? You’re more than welcome to stay the night. Y-You always do,” he muttered with slight concern in his words as he took his headset off.

She shook her head lightly, “nah it’s alright. Gotta water the plants,“ Y/N fiddled with the door handle as her other hand traced the sweater, knowing full well she doesn’t have any plants.

“Alright, I’ll walk you out,” he stood up, adjusting the chair in order to do so. Y/N reached out to him, his jumper resting in her hand, “where’d you like me to put this?”

He stood up, increasingly getting confused at her actions because he knew that she loved wearing his clothes and stealing them any chance she got. “I-I’ll um, just toss it on the bed,” he pointed to the made bed, slipping on his shoes to walk her out.

She felt his form loom over her as he walked with her out of the flat and to her car. They walked in silence, uncharacteristically. Wilburs’s hands were stuffed in the pockets of his pants lost in his thoughts as he heard her car alarm He walked to the driver’s side, lost in his thoughts while he opened the door for her.

She approached the door, getting ready to sit in the driver’s seat before turning to Wilbur to bid goodbye. He leaned down to kiss her, standard for all of their farewells, but she turned her head at the last second, his lips crashing onto her cheek. His heart dropped at the odd situation he was placed in, wondering why this was happening.

“I-I’ll see you later,” she smiled softly before sitting down and preparing to drive.

He could let her go like this. He had to know if things were good, okay even. Before he shut the door, he leaned down a bit to get closer to her. “Is everything okay? You seem a bit off, darling.”

“Y-yeah I’m just really tired,” she chuckled humorlessly, placing a hand on her forehead. “Sorry, it’s just been a weird day.”

“If you’re that tired you could stay here,” his voice practically pleaded, assuring her once more that she always had a place there.

“I-I’ll be fine, I promise.” Her words were soft along with her eyes, but she just wanted to give him what he desired; space.

“You sure?” He asked once more, extremely concerned, but what answer was he really expecting? Y/N nodded her head, “positive.”

“Alright, text me when you get home,” he leaned back, preparing to shut the door for her. She nodded her head, pushing her keys into the ignition. “I love you,” he spoke sincerely, bending down so that she’d be able to see him better once more. There was an emotion in YN’s eyes that he couldn’t recognize, but the smile on her face was sad. “I-you too, I’ll see you later,” she fiddled with her keys before meeting his gaze.

His heart shattered at the words. You too? What the hell is that suppose to mean?

He gave a tight smile before shutting the door for her. You too, the words echoed in his mind as he began walking back to the front door, pausing his steps on the pavement to watch her pull out of the driveway. He sighed before turning back to his path home. Upon returning, the place felt dimmer without her presence and he quickly took note of that.

Letting out a huge sigh, he plopped down at his desk, unmuting himself on Discord. “Sorry bout that, I’m back. J-Just walking Y/N out,” he spoke, taking the only opportunity his friends quieted down to speak.

“Wilbur!” Tommy yelled as the rest of the VC, which now had Niki, Jack and Fundy, errupted in chaos. “W-What? What the fuck happened?”

“Dude you got verified on Twitter,” Quackity shouted. His eyes went wide, opening the light blue app to see if it was true. Sure enough, a small check mark emphasized his name. He beamed at the sight of it, rushing to make a tweet about how grateful he was.

He went back to his feed, noticing that Y/N had made a tweet about ten or so minutes prior.

y/n✨| @yourusername

so proud of my favorite boy getting verified <3 love you @WilburSoot !!

His heart clenched at the tweet, being drawn back to the events that occurred moments beforehand. He liked and retweeted it, watching his fans swoon at the couple’s interaction without knowing what was happening behind closed doors, before getting back to his friends being completely distracted by thoughts on the girl he loves.

~~~

Y/N never texted him to tell him that she was home. She woke up late that morning seeing a few texts from him about twitter, how his stream went and so on.

As she looked at the time on her phone, realizing the lie she told him about working early and chose not to answer quite yet.

She spent the rest of her day around the house, cleaning, cooking or watching TV. She wasn’t in any mood to go on social media, not wanting to interact with Wilbur quite yet. Y/N sighed thinking about yesterday, thinking that it would be a better idea to just give him some space.

And so she did, for several days before Wilbur’s worry consumed him.

He sat on Discord with his friends, days after his last interaction with his girlfriend. “It’s just weird because she’s never like this. She always calls or texts me whenever she gets the chance regardless of whether or not I ask,” he expressed to his friends as they were fucking around on their own Minecraft world. He wasn’t even paying attention to what he was doing in the game, just aimlessly pressing buttons and moving his mouse as he thought of Y/N.

Tommy chuckled shortly, “now look whos being needy.”

“Shut up Tommy,” Wilbur explained, running a hand across his chin, fingertips gracing his incredibly overgrown stubble. “Look I’m just saying,” the blond furthered, “there’s no need for you to say she’s clingy or whatever when your freaking out over a text! Like you saw her less than what, two, three ago?”

Wilbur shook his head, fuming now, “Oh my god, shut the fuck up Tommy! How would you, a literal child, know anything about what’s going on? You’ve barely hit puberty!” His outburst caused his friends to quiet down, them not being used to anger being directed in such a way.

“Wilbur,” Tommy started once again, becoming more serious, “I know you. You worrying over a few short days almost disproves everything you said the other day. I think you don’t know how to handle affection well, not that she’s clingy or whatever.” Hearing Tommy acting serious and not childish for this one second made something snap within Wilbur, knowing that the child was right.

He sighed, “I-I’m sorry for snapping at you. Everything is happening at once in my life right now and Y/N not talking to me has me worried. This isn’t what’s normal between us. It’s strange.”

“But isn’t this what you wanted? She isn’t being as ‘needy’ now. You got your wish, didn’t you?” George chimed in, hoping to help even though his own experiences with relationships hasn’t always been the best.

“Yeah, and I fucking hate it, I don’t know why I even said that. I don’t mean it. I love when she’s around, I hate when she isn’t,” Wilbur went on, his thoughts focusing on the good memories he has with his girlfriend.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Dream spoke ominously, feeling as if now was the most appropriate time to speak.

“I-I’m gonna call her,” the distressed twenty year old expressed, whipping out his phone to go to her number. As the phone rang, he became more and more nervous.

“What if she got in an accident? Or someone kidnapped her or something?”He rushed before him and his friends heard “please leave a message for 3-“

“Wilbur, she’s probably fine. She probably had a long day at work or something,” Niki spoke, hoping to add a small but of optimism to the situation.

“Yeah but she would’ve told me that. She would’ve called me to rant about her day, and tell me how much she wanted to see me, but she didn’t.” He leaned back in his chair, getting more and more stressed out over this.

“I-I think I’m gonna head to her flat.”

~~~

The drive was long as his anxiety slowly but surely began to increase with every green light. He pulled into her complex, parking and building up the courage to confront her.

“It’ll be fine. Things are fine,” he muttered to himself as he walked up the steps to the familiar doormat.

He knocked on the door, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. After a minute, there was no response so he knocked again with more ergency.

“Just a minute,” he heard her soft voice yell out, flooding him with relief. The voice wasn’t as warm as it typically was, only increasing his nervousness.

Before he knew it, Y/N opened the door, eyes meeting his chest before trickling to his eyes. “Wilbur? What are you doing here?”

He froze, shocked at the situation that he forced upon himself without realizing it. “I-You weren’t answering any calls or texts. I was worried,” he mumbled, immediately taking note of her puffy eyes.

“Have you been crying?” He stepped closer to her with concern lacing his voice. He reached out to hold her waist, caress her cheek, anything, but she stepped away slighted. Y/N blinked, “y-yeah, it’s just allergies.”

“You don’t have allergies like that Y/N. May I please come in?” Wilbur knew her better than that, probably even better than she knew herself. She nodded shortly opening the door wider for him to enter, looking down at her sock clad feet.

He entered the tiny flat, taking not that the once welcoming space has become littered with turmoil. The tissues by the sofa didn’t go unnoticed and neither did the pile of dishes in the sink. “What’s been going on? These past few days you’ve been acting strange,” he asked sincerely.

Y/N looked around, finding something and pretending to be busy with it. “I’ve just been busy,” she mumbled looking over the pile of mail she refused to actually look through. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, would you like some tea?” She asked, realizing her manners.

“Y/N,” he spoke defeated, “come on talk to me, please.” He practically begged as he followed her steps into the kitchen to start the kettle, even though he didn’t give her an answer.

“Everything’s fine, Wilbur,” she replied absentmindedly as she searched for her various teas. “We got chai tea, black tea, Engli-“

“Y/N, I dont fucking want tea right now I want you to talk to me,” he shouted, approaching her in the kitchen and forcing her to face him by pulling her waist gently. She gasped at the loudness of his words, not used to him yelling at her.

“Wilbur,” Y/N whispered, her hands on his chest as he looked down into her eyes. Desperation was clear in his before being mimicked in his words, “this is the longest you’ve gone without calling me Wil. Come on Y/N, please.” His voice cracked towards the end, the shakiness not leaving.

She closed her eyes tightly before she pulled herself out of his arms, turning to grab two mugs out of the cupboard, “you’re getting chai tea.”

“Love, I just want us to be okay,” he spoke passionately, pleading for things to be right.

“We are okay Wilbu- Wil,” she corrected, more so forcing the nickname to combat his complaint. As she prepared each cup, putting Wilbur’s desired amount of sugar into his cup and respectively her own.

He shook his head, not believing her words as his own eyes began to turn red, “there’s something wrong and I can tell. Please just-please Y/N.” His voice was completely broken and she knew she had to express her concerns. She paused her motions, staring at the jar of sugar she just placed onto the counter.

“I-I didn’t want to bother you,” she muttered softly, examining the mugs before her.

The man sniffed, confusion growing within him. “W-What do you mean? You could never bother me Y/N,” his voice soft, approaching her once again.

She shook her head, moving to put sugar in each cup, forgetting that she already did so, “but that’s not true. We both know that.” The water remained on the stove while copious amount of sugar occupied each cup. Wilbur gently grabbed the hand holding the spoon that shoveled the sugar into the mugs, making her stop her own actions.

“Yes it is, love.” Wilbur whispered softly as she put the spoon into the jar, coming back to reality. Y/N let out a shaky breath, facing the counter while Wilbur occupied her side, facing her.

“So why’d you tell all of your friends that I’ve been clingy and needy and overbearing and everything under the sun?” She whispered as her voice wobbled, indicating that tears would soon come falling down.

Wilbur furrowed his brows, confused at the words she expressed. He scavenged his mind, not understanding what she was stating. “What are yo-“ he cut himself off, taking his hand from hers as he remembered that conversation.

Guilt washed over his soul as he realized the greater impact of his words. She thought she had to change....for those idiotic meaningless words expressed in a fit of stress and exhaustion. He shook his head lightly, refusing to look at her, refusing to look at the damage he’s caused.

“I didn’t mean it Y/N. I just-there was a lot on my plate and I just had to complain about something. A-And you were there to complain about.” He spoke honestly, knowing that it doesn’t excuse his behavior. The sound of the kettle went off, the whistle tones attacking his ears while Y/N ignored it to focus on the conversation at hand.

“I just didn’t want to be a burden,” she muttered with a wobbling bounce that made the tall idiotic man pull her into his arms.

“No,no,no don’t ever ever think that again. You are not a burden. You never were Y/N. This is on me, I shouldn’t have said what I had said,” he muttered into her hair, repeating apologies like a mantra while kissing her hairline.

She let go, allowing her pent up feelings from the past few day flow out through tears while in the comfort of his arms, “my biggest fear is bothering people. I-I didn’t want to upset you.”

“You didn’t,” he pulled away to hold her tear stained cheeks in his hands, regret prominent in his gaze, “you have been nothing but patient with me these past few months and that is something I don’t even have the words to express, love.”

“You, Y/N L/N, are not a burden, not now, not ever,” he whispered lovingly. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m sorry I even said it. I didn’t mean it, but fuck I shouldn’t have. Look at what I’ve done to you,” his voice wavered as he pulled away to assess the damage. “Fuck,” he shook his head as a sob escaped his lips before he could pull her into his arms again.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, holding her tight while the whistle pierced his ears. She leaned back slightly, pressing her forehead against his while closing her eyes, “I know, I know. It’s okay. I know you. I know you wouldn’t mean it.”

“I love you,” he whispered, holding her head in one of his hands. “I love you too, Wil,” she whispered back, pulling his lips onto hers, sealing their words with this actions.

As much as he loved the feeling of her soft lips on his once again, he pulled away. “Okay, okay, as much as I don’t want this to stop, that damn kettle is driving me mad,” he expressed, making Y/N chuckle before kissing him on the cheek and going to turn off the stove.

He watched fondly as she was about to pour the water into the mugs, stoping to see the plethora of sugar in each. “Oh shit,” she paused, laughing at the mess she had made. Wilbur snapped out of his gaze, examining the scene that caused her words.

He shook his head lightly, grabbing the kettle from her hands before placing it back onto the stovetop. “You,” he turned to face her, poking her cheek, “go to bed, get all comfy and put on a film. I will finish the tea and bring it to you.” His eyes got soft towards the end of his statement as he went to assess the mug situation.

“Then,” he spoke gently, grabbing her waist once again, littering her face with kisses that trailed down her neck, “I’ll spend the whole day making it up to you.”

Y/N laughed, running her fingers through his soft hair, “can’t wait.” His lips stayed pressed onto her neck, before they made their way back to her own.

#Wilbur soot #Wilbur soot imagine #Wilbur soot x reader #Wilbur soot one shot #Wilbur soot fanfiction #Wilbur soot hc #Wilbur soot smut #wilbur mcyt #mcyt #minecraft #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #dream mcyt #dream #dream team

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yunojeyes · 3 years ago

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My Boyfriend's Here Prank On MarkHyuckJaeNo While They're Asleep

MarkHyuckJaeNo reaction to tiktok's "My boyfriend's here" prank.

Pairing : MarkHyuckJaeNo x reader

Genre: fluff

Masterlist: here

Fic recs: YuuYuu2

a/n: Please note that all of this is fictional and the personalities of the characters are made specifically for the story! Please do not copy the story and post it elsewhere or on Tumblr!

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Mark

Mark had been a pain in the ass, always hanging out with Hyuck and the rest of the boys. He's even had the audacity to forget your special date and had stood you up while he was busy playing Mario kart with them. SO, you decided why not have the dude experience your version of karma.

You waited for the sun to rise before leaving the bedroom to pick up your camera, recording him as you got ready to scare the living daylights out of him. You took a deep breath before whisper-shouting, "Babe! Hurry wake up and hide my boyfriend's here!" you shook him aggressively and pulled the covers off of him. You gathered his discarded sweatpants and shirt before shoving it to his chest, his hair sticking in all sorts of ways as his eyes squinted.

You quickly pushed him towards the direction of the bathroom, his frantic movements resulting in him falling on his ass. You failed to stifle a giggle as he got up picking up his fallen clothes and running towards the bathroom before realizing he's been tricked. He groaned and started walking back to the bed where you laid and pulled you to his chest, "you're seriously annoying babe" he groaned out as he closed his eyes to sleep once more, you wiggled out of his grasp heading to the kitchen before stopping by the bedroom doorway an leaning on it, "what can I say babe? karma's a bitch." you said as you walked towards the kitchen once more to cook breakfast before feeling his arms around your waist. "Sorry babe" He said muffled against your nape, you pat his head in acceptance of his apology before leaning your head on his head.

Jeno

Lately Jeno's game addiction had been getting on your nerves as he'd always sleep so late leaving you on the bed alone with no night cuddles even after you'd begged him to. After a week or so you'd finally had enough, you'd decided today's the day you'd mess with your samoyed face boyfriend. You waited for him to take his usual daily nap after playing the whole night before, which was fast seeming as the moment he laid on the bed, his brain had shut down.

You walked into the room closing the door behind you softly, you peeled the covers off him before placing a kiss on his forehead as a prior apology for what's about to happen. You shook him aggressively as you franticly said, "Jeno! My boyfriend's here get up!" to which he calmly answered, "I know baby, I'm right here unless you're talking about one of your photo cards and posters on your desk", you pouted as his reaction did not satisfy you.

"What the heck Jeno.." You muttered as he opened his eyes smiling at you caressing your cheek. You stood up ready to leave the room before he grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards his chest, he cuddled you in a tight grip, one you can't get out of unless you're superman or an EXO member with strength as your superpower. He caressed your hair kissing your face muttering apologies for the previous nights.

Hyuck

You and Hyuck had been having this "friendly" park wars between yo two, this all stared when Hyuck had decided to put bananas in your smoothie knowing that you hate and cannot eat them at all before gagging. Today's the day you put a stop to all these pranks, you went on twitter while he's still asleep, tweeting from your secret nct fan account where your pretty large following were waiting for you to tweet out your usual makeup tutorial or fashion review videos. You created a poll titled, "What prank should I pull on my boyfriend?"

#1 Pretend to be mat at boyfriend for 24 hours or #2 wipe his kisses off or #3 Do the tiktok "my boyfriend's here prank" on asleep boyfriend

People seemed to have leant towards the third one with 80% of you followers voting for #3. You tweeted out the result and went off your phone to start your prank, you knelt beside the bed gazing at his peaceful face before whispering out a soft, "Sorry not sorry babe" before gathering all your might and shaking the fck out of the sleeping sunshine. "Wake up Hyuck! My boyfriend's here" he rubbed his eyes picking up his discarded shirt in a hurry before going under the bed to hide, you angled the camera down at him asking, "What're you doing?" as he looked up at you with wide eyes and dry drool on the side on his mouth. "I'm hiding from your boyfriend!" he whispered as you repeated his statement as a question, "yeah I'm hiding from your- oh" he said as he laid his head on the floor groaning and you cackling before tweeting it out not forgetting to censor his face so that they wouldn't know it's Hyuck.

Once he got out from under the bed, he tackled you in a hug rubbing his face on your shoulder, "you're really lucky I love you cutie." He muttered as he didn't have the energy to tease you back.

Jaemin

Jaemin had been awfully clingy with Jisung lately almost as if he'd forgotten that he has a girlfriend to attend to. You'd finally had enough after nights of waking up in the middle of the night from your sudden loss of heat, finding no one beside you, him being in the kitchen cooking up a meal for his baby Jisung. The next morning you decided to play this harmless prank on him. You prepared the batter for his favorite breakfast of yours, pancakes and wrapped it before placing it in the fridge so that he won't be grumpy all morning.

You crept back into the room, opening and shutting the bedroom lightly before crouching down and kissing his cheek as well as the side of his pouted lips, "sorry baby" you whispered as you took a deep breath before releasing it through your plump pink lips. You shook him violently and occasionally smacking him with the Ryan pillow beside him saying, "Jaemin my boyfriend's here! You gotta get out now!" Poor boy wakes up with alerted eyes and jumped off the bed to grab his clothes. What you didn't expect was for him to run out the bedroom and towards the front door. On his way, he ran into Renjun who looked as confused as you were at his state, "Where are you going?" He asked with his cup of tea in his hand, "I need to go, y/n's boyfriend's here!" He said frantically trying to find his bucket hat to hide his bird's nest on top of his head.

Furrowing his eyebrows Renjun asked, "Did you and y/n break up or something because the last time I checked you're her only boyfriend and I don't think she's the type to cheat either." Jaemin froze, realizing what you'd just done, he huffed before stomping to the bedroom angrily only to find that you're not there, his nose caught a shift of your famous pancakes he loved so much.

He made his way to the kitchen to find you plating the pancakes and placing them on the pillow before calling out to the boys to eat breakfast, you looked up meeting his eyes that'd softened when he saw you'd prepared breakfast for everyone. "Why did you do that babe?" He whined snuggling into your embrace, breathing in your fresh scent while you explained why you did it, which made him smile and giggle at how cute your reason was before apologizing cutely and kissing your lips.

original work of: @yunojeyes

#nct #nct au #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct dream #nct reactions #nct mark #nct jaemin #nct haechan #nct jeno #na jaemin #lee donghyuck #lee mark #lee jeno

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princecharmingwinks · 4 years ago

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Sterek Fic Rec - May 2021. New rec list for you. Hope you enjoy these delightful reads featuring our favourite werewolf and human dorks <3

May I Interest You in an Apology Muffin? by Leslie_Knope (1/1 | 1,478 | Teen)

“Wait, seriously? Who is it? C’mon, just tell me.”

“Uh…,” Stiles said, buying for time while he looked around as surreptitiously as possible. “That guy over there,” he whispered finally, jerking his chin toward the dark-haired guy three tables over, a guy so hot that Stiles’ only chance with him would most definitely be in an imaginary scenario.

Scott looked over his shoulder at the guy and got that determined glint in his eye that Stiles recognized, just about three seconds too late. Scott was gonna do something that he thought was heroic but was actually dumb.

“Scott!” he hissed, grabbing for his backpack and nearly knocking over their coffee cups in his haste to follow him. “Oh, holy shit.”

you all over me by Poe (1/1 | 3,705 | Explicit)

The thing about Stiles is, Derek thinks, is that he has no idea how enthralling he truly is. He’s easy to overlook, right up until the point he isn’t, and at some stage, Derek started looking, and now, it’s all he can do.

(or: the one where the pack is happy, healthy and alive, and Stiles and Derek are sort of inevitable)

a bad case of the wilds by kaistrex (weishen) (1/1 | 6,446 | Explicit)

“I could smell you all over town,” Derek growls.

Stiles squints back at him, trying to parse what Derek wants from him with that statement. An apology?

“Okay?” he says instead, which, as with everything else he says around Derek, seems to be the entirely wrong thing to come out of his mouth.

Derek’s eyes go red and Stiles bolts upright in his chair, trying to scoot backwards, banging into his desk.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

“Get away from me, Stiles,” Derek bites out, hands clenched into fists.

Stiles rolls his head on his shoulders. “Dude, this is my room. You get away from me.”

–

Basically, I wanted Derek fucking Stiles up against his bedroom window on a full moon with the blind up, so I wrote it. Happy Valentine's Day!

Cabins, Confessions, and Cockroaches by Nutellargh (1/1 | 4,009 | Teen)

That's how Stiles found himself in the middle of a forest, trying to grab the one bag of clothes and a bajilion bags of mystical powders, liquids, books and weapons, and instantly dropping them as he spotted the cabin dude.

Derek Hale chopping wood with an axe while shirtless was not a sight Stiles was prepared for.

the rescue by EvanesDust (1/1 | 860 | Teen)

Stiles has spent every moment of the last four months tracking the hunters who took his mate. Now that he’s found them, nothing will stop Stiles from taking back what’s his.

A Crooked Way to Fly by andavs (1/1 | 14,980 | General)

“We can’t just leave him here to die.”

“He’s an emissary, Scott.” Derek tried to make his tone empathetic, but Scott’s tendency to fight back on everything always grated on his nerves. “His pack is gone, he won’t survive more than a day or two either way.”

“Then we should stay with him.”

Derek sighed as he studied the man for a moment; he was too pale against the fur rim of his hood, almost grey from lying out in the snow, and his cloak was stained with dark dried blood around a protruding arrow shaft. It was unlikely he would even last the night. They would probably be able to carry on in the morning with little time lost, if any.

It wasn’t a horrible idea, Derek decided reluctantly. They hadn’t been able to set up a real camp for a few weeks in the open foothills, and they were all on edge from sleeping in exposed areas. A defensible place to sleep would be good for them, even if they were surrounded by death. They would be able to give the pack proper burials, at the very least.

“Fine. One night,” Derek relented, already moving away to check on Isaac. “He’s your responsibility.”

Big Bad Wolves by NotThatIWillEverWriteIt (1/1 | 1,144 | General)

"What's one more canine?"

But it's better when it's you by Tails89 (1/1 | 9,707 | Mature)

Shuffling slowly towards the front door, Stiles throws it open.

“What?”

Stiles’ brain short circuits - just a little - because standing in front of him is Derek Hale.

He hasn’t seen Derek in almost four years and now he’s standing on his doorstep, in shorts and a tank top with a canvas bag clutched in one hand.

Teen Wolf Fic Fest Prompt: Someone breaks a bone and someone unexpected winds up on their doorstep with a bag full of groceries

My Soul to Keep by jacyevans, Jmeelee (7/7 | 18,660 | Teen)

Stiles came with a whiteboard, and blue dry erase marker, flapping it over his head like a white flag on a battlefield.

"Come on," he coaxed. "You must want to say something. You've never gone this long without telling me to shut up." He waggled the marker in Derek's face. Stinging alcohol and pungent polymer singed Derek's nose hairs.

His fingers itched to pick up the board, and not because he wanted to tell Stiles to be quiet. He enjoyed the babble that filled the apartment every few days, the hearty food, Stiles' particular, reassuring smell: maple sugar buzz, spicy-sweet deodorant, milk-sour frustration, floral shampoo, and spring grass at night. It soaked into Derek's couch, his bed, his skull.

If any of it were real, Derek would take the board and write: thank you.

Lost Without You by ash_mcj (1/1 | 7,799 | General

Derek made a deal. A very stupid, no-good, mortifying deal because he couldn’t bear to tell his idiotic (secret) mate no. -- “You guys didn’t know that Derek plays piano?” Cora asked, her eyebrows furrowed. “He’s played since before I was born.” “He was good,” Peter recalled. “He used to sing, too. Put on little concerts for the pups.” “That was a long time ago,” Derek clipped. “Doesn’t matter now - I don’t play anymore.” "Derek," Stiles whined childishly. He scooted closer to him and grabbed onto his arm to gently shake him. “C'mon, Sourwolf, my life will never be complete until I hear you sing. I’ll do anything. I’ll streak across the lacrosse field during our final match, if you perform for us right now.” "When you graduate," Derek relented. --- And then Stiles graduated. And Derek had to perform for him. And then the fact that Derek saw Stiles as his mate wasn’t a secret anymore. ---

(For~ Sterek Valentine Week 2021; Day 3 and 4: Secret Crush and Love Song)

**Songfic to "Lost Without You" by Freya Ridings

princecharmingwinks special mention (i have never read a merman AU for sterek and this was a delighful introduction to the trope! Also it has meddling erica which we all know any mention of her is my weakness!)

Beacon Gills by kitsunequeen (1/1 | 4,226 | Teen)

“Derek,” Erica singsongs loudly. Rather than knocking on the rather flimsy-looking piece of driftwood, she grabs a coconut filled with seashells and shakes it violently. “We’ve got a surprise for you!”

“I hate surprises,” Derek answers, voice slightly muffled through the door. “Aren’t you supposed to be out exploring the caves with Isaac?”

“He has some special guests tonight,” Boyd says. “And so do you.”

Derek doesn’t answer right away, and Stiles can almost imagine him sighing.

“Come in,” he yields finally. “You know it’s unlocked.”

Erica flings the door open, nudges Stiles inside, and slams it behind him.

“Surprise!” she yells, and then Stiles can hear her and Boyd’s footsteps quickly retreating.

Oh, shit.

---

When Stiles accompanies Scott on a trip to his uncle's beach house, he gets more than he bargained for after running into a pack of mermaids with a particularly attractive leader...

And that’s it for the month folks! Thank you to the amazing fandom always giving me so much content to enjoy, sterek fandom is the best fandom ;)

#sterek #fanfiction #fic rec #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #princecharminglists

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owletstarlet · 3 years ago

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the grand deeds of great men, the smallest of gestures

"My hero."

An (extremely late) request of sorts from @taizi for some solid nishi content, involving Tanuma putting those childhood karate lessons to good use. Established tanunatsu.

Ao3 link in the notes.

“Your boyfriend,” Satoru announces without preamble, dragging Tanuma by their joined hands through the hotel room door, “is a badass.”

Natsume looks up sharply from where he and Atsushi are huddled over a pile of rumpled travel pamphlets on the bed. But it’s Taki who’s on her feet first, closing the distance to the door with a pinched look and taking the shopping bag out of Tanuma’s hand.

Satoru’s grinning. Tanuma is very much not.

But they’re both shaking.

Satoru doesn’t let go of Tanuma’s hand until Natsume’s there to take it. Atsushi’s there to grab Satoru by the shoulders, and the five of them shuffle back as one towards the beds.

Natsume doesn’t press for the explanation until they’re all seated, he and Taki pressed up against either side of Tanuma, their knees bumping up against Atsushi’s and Satoru’s in the narrow space between the two beds. The muttered question is probably more directed at Satoru than at Tanuma, because Tanuma’s gray-faced in the lamplight, gaze a little too wide, breaths coming a little too fast. Both Natsume’s hands are wrapped around Tanuma’s slack one, and on his other side Taki’s hands are gentle where they rub his back, but her keen eyes keep darting over to Satoru, expression tight with all the same concern. Satoru, for his part, is practically vibrating where he sits tucked against Atsushi’s side, from nerves or exhilaration or both, Atsushi can’t quite tell.

“He flipped a guy!” Satoru declares, with a wide one-handed swoop of a gesture at Tanuma, sounding positively giddy about it.

Well. Whatever Atsushi was expecting to hear, it wasn’t that.

“What,” Natsume says, blankly, at the same time that Taki says, “…wait.”

And then they’re all looking at Tanuma. Who very much looks like he’d rather not be looked at.

“It was the actual best thing I have ever seen,” Satoru says, nudging Tanuma’s knee with his own, and there’s something fierce and warm in his eyes. “And he thinks he’s gonna go to jail or something for it, which he’s not, because the guy deserved it, so that would be dumb.”

“What happened?” Atsushi blurts, now well and truly alarmed.

And he tells them.

They’re in Osaka for a long weekend, because Natori had invited them all along for some premiere of a new period piece that Satoru had been gushing about for months. Natsume’s not exactly ecstatic about attending the event itself, but he’s clearly happy that Satoru’s happy—Atsushi gathers that that’s whole point of this—and even if Natori himself is all booked up with press events for the majority of the weekend, it’s a chance for them all to explore the unfamiliar city together.

Not thirty minutes ago, Satoru and Tanuma had volunteered to make a combini run for snacks, only about two blocks from the hotel. But once they’d finished and were through the door, bags in hand, Tanuma had realized he’d forgotten to get the ice cream Taki had asked for. He’d gone back in to get it, while Satoru stayed out front to sip at the cocoa he’d bought. They hadn’t really paid any mind to the group milling about out front. Salarymen, by the looks of them, three or four younger guys in tidy suits with raucous voices and beers in hand. Satoru had been making his way to the bench near the entrance to wait, not quite looking where he was going, and he’d bumped into one of them, causing some of his beer to slosh over the lip of the can and onto the guy’s blazer sleeve. From his place in line Tanuma had heard it, the sharp “Oy!” and the rumbles of displeasure from man’s friends. Tanuma’s not sure what became of the ice cream he’d been holding—maybe he dropped it, maybe he shoved it into the hands of the customer beside him—but the next thing he knew he was out the door, wedging himself firmly between Satoru and the man who now had him by the arm.

“And then he just…bam!” Satoru mimes the motion, as though he’s grabbing something heavy with both hands from behind, and twisting it downwards in front of him. “Like. Grabbed him. And just. Flipped him! Guy went down beer and all, and he looked super confused about being on the ground all of a sudden. And it was amazing, and I had no idea he took karate before.”

And with that, three sets of startled eyes all land squarely on Tanuma. Natsume taps his knee, like he’s trying to break him away from whatever’s got its grip on him behind his own glassy gaze.

“Karate?” Taki looks, at first, gobsmacked by this piece of information. But it morphs into something like slow-breaking delight across her features.

Tanuma’s nod is a single, tight bob of the head. “Just, um.” It’s the first time he’s spoken since walking through the door, and his voice is a ghost of a thing, like it might get swallowed up by the stale air of the room. “Until I was twelve. On and off. I don’t remember much.”

“You remembered plenty,” Satoru tells him, tone banking no argument, before clasping his hands together dramatically. “My hero.” His grin is so wide and irresistibly cheesy that Tanuma looks up, just for a moment, with the barest twitch of his lips before his gaze drops back down towards the stretch of flowery pink carpet beneath their toes. Natsume shoots Satoru a grateful look, even as Atsushi finds himself doing the same to Tanuma. Somewhere, during the course of the story, he’d found himself squashed up impossibly close against Satoru, arm tucked firmly around his shoulders. He seems genuinely excited, not distressed, but against Atsushi’s side he still feels wound up tight as a coiled spring. It’s definitely not lost on Natsume, either, judging by the glance he gives Atsushi. Atsushi nudges Natsume’s foot—he’s okay, I got him—and Natsume nods, once, though his gaze lingers a moment longer on Satoru’s flushed, still-beaming face.

“So you’re afraid someone saw?” Atsushi asks, while Taki fishes out a tea bottle from the shopping bag, uncaps it and presses it into Tanuma’s hand.

Tanuma doesn’t answer, but that touch of a grin from before has twisted itself into something distinctly nauseated.

“If anyone did see, they’d know the dude was fine.” Satoru shrugs. “Also that he deserved it, remember. We ran, anyways.”

Natsume blinks. “You ran here?”

And Atsushi can’t help but see the comedy in that being what Natsume seizes on, considering the truly impressive amount of times Atsushi’s seen him tearing through town apropos of nothing like he’s got a swarm of invisible hornets on his tail.

“Yup,” Satoru says, brightly, tapping Tanuma’s knee. “Felt like an action movie.” A pause, before he tacks on, not unkindly, “Y’know, if you’re not gonna drink that tea, then I will.”

Tanuma blinks down at the tea bottle, which had tilted enough in his hand to nearly spill onto the scratchy comforter as though forgotten about. He manages a couple measured sips before letting Taki take it back and cap it.

Natsume squeezes Tanuma’s fingers in his own, looking unsettled. Taki looks thoughtful, idly tapping the bottle in her hands.

“Were you thinking they had a security camera out front or something?” she asks.

Tanuma says nothing.

Taki leans into his side. “You know, even if anyone watched the footage, it’s like Nishimura said. All they’d see is that man getting exactly what was coming to him,” she says, fervently.

“And you being cool as hell,” Satoru adds. “Seriously, they teach twelve-year-olds how to do that?”

The way his shoulders loosen, just a fraction, feels like a win. “I don’t…actually know?” he starts, squinting like he’s trying to recall. “I was in this class for high-schoolers at the time, because there were nothing else available in the town I lived in.” A shrug, a sheepish glance up and away. “Usually I was just partnered up with my teacher.”

“That actually sounds kind of brutal, though,” Atsushi says, curious now. “Did the teacher demonstrate take-downs and stuff on you?”

“She did, but. Really slowly,” Tanuma replies, and it’s as though the warmth of Natsume’s and Taki’s shoulders pressed up against his has started, though incrementally, to seep into his voice, his eyes. “And I never really got the hang of doing any of it back to her. I’m surprised that worked, earlier.”

Precisely none of this explanation seems to have made Satoru look any less starstruck. Atsushi has to hold back his snort. “You should totally pick it up again,” Satoru’s saying now, around a mouth full of the lemon ice pop Natsume had fished out of the shopping bag for him. “What color belt did you get up to?”

“Um.”

Just that half-second’s hesitation is long enough to put a loaded look into Natsume’s eyes, for him to slot their fingers together properly and squeeze.

Tanuma lets out a breath, and there’s something years-old and lonely clinging to the edges of his smile. Atsushi doubts he’s aware of it. “None.” He shrugs. “I didn’t pass the one exam I took. I got pneumonia that year and had to quit after that, so.”

He looks faintly embarrassed, now, and Satoru opens his mouth as though ready to nip that right in the bud, but Taki beats him to it.

“Tanuma,” she says, solemnly, turning around to face him. “You have got to teach me how you did that.”

***

By the time the polite-yet-firm call arrives from the front desk, indicating a noise complaint from their neighbors in the next room and forcing them all to call it a night, things are better.

By then, Tanuma had been goaded into demonstrating some unwieldy modified version the maneuver behind his earlier takedown, executed on a poor unsuspecting hotel pillow because the entire room had immediately nixed Satoru’s offer to be the human test dummy.

Now, Satoru and Taki are a boneless, lightly snoring tangle of limbs on the far bed, one of Satoru’s arms thrown over Natsume’s whale shark plushie. (A surprise gift from all of them, Taki’s idea, after they’d caught him eyeing it more than once in the aquarium gift shop yesterday. If he’d walked out of the aquarium clutching it to his chest just like he might’ve done with his fat cat, currently hundreds of kilometers away, none of them said a word about it.)

Natsume himself is dozing in the other bed, but he lies facing Satoru—and Satoru’s fine, he’s unharmed and happy and completely safe, he is. But for some reason the longer the night’s worn on, Atsushi’s had to remind himself of these facts more, not less. He knows the dark cast to Satoru’s slack wrist is the lamplight-shadow of his sweatshirt sleeve, knows because he checked.

Still.

Tanuma’s in the bath, now. And he seems, well. Better than he was, certainly. But Atsushi had seen the taut-lipped glances he’d stolen at Satoru, and he looks about the same way Atsushi feels. At least the unwelcome scenarios and possibilities unspooling in his own mind have got to be more vague than whatever Tanuma’s imagination was serving up. Tanuma had seen it. Had stopped it.

Let Satoru wave it off, insist ‘til he’s blue in the face that it was fine, all fine, that he hadn’t been in any real danger. If it would put his friends at ease, he’d have said the same with a smile on his face even if he’d just been robbed at knifepoint.

Atsushi really needs to stop thinking about this.

He’d heard Natsume earlier, voice whisper-gentle through the bathroom door after he’d led Tanuma in by the hand behind him. Satoru and Taki had drifted off by then. Atsushi couldn’t make out the words, and heard nothing at all from Tanuma, aside from a few isolated, stuttering breaths. Tanuma had re-emerged dazed, red-eyed, but calmer than Atsushi had seen him all evening.

When the door opens now, Tanuma steps out in a halo of steam, wet-haired and barefoot in an old t-shirt. Atsushi’s on his feet and halfway across the room before he’s even really aware of it, the change of clothes for his own bath forgotten at the foot of the bed.

Tanuma goes still, when Atsushi pulls him close. Atsushi almost lets go, but then he feels the tentative hands come up to rest on his back.

“Thank you,” Atsushi mutters into his shoulder.

“I—“

“No. Listen.” Atsushi pulls back, hands shifting to rest on his upper arms. And god but Tanuma looks exhausted. “You kept him safe,” Atsushi says. “And don’t try to tell me you didn’t, because you did. Thank you.”

Tanuma opens his mouth, closes it again, swallows. He says nothing for a long moment, but he doesn’t look away. Finally, “…sorry for freaking out.” He smiles as he says it, but his voice snags on the words. He swallows again.

“Hey.” Atsushi waits until Tanuma’s now-dropped gaze returns to him. “You don’t ever have to be sorry for that, okay? Not with us.”

A sound like an inhale, somehow sharp and shaky all at once, and then it’s Tanuma that’s pulling them together again. A steadying breath, in-out-in that ruffles Atsushi’s hair. Stillness.

“Okay,” he whispers.

***

If he does go to jail, it's Natori who'll have to bail him out :)

Sensei didn't come along because I like to think Hiiragi, Sasago and Urihime have been taking turns watching over Natsume, which is more than sufficient, except for when it's *not* Natsume himself who's getting into trouble--

Fun fact, according to the most current iteration of canon, Tanuma's taken judo in the past as well as karate, but the bulk of this was written before that chapter came out.

All credit to taizi for the nice hug idea--

#natsume yuujinchou #kitamoto atsushi #nishimura satoru #tanuma kaname #tanunatsu #kitanishi #if you squint #natsume takashi #taki tooru #natsume's book of friends #taizi #owlet's fanfiction #natsuyuu

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mel-the-fangirl · 4 years ago

Text

Toss A Coin to Your Witcher (Part Three)

Henry Cavill x Reader

Words: 4,365

(Part 1, Part 2)

Happy Holidays, Cavillry! I really truly hope that you all had some socially distanced fun! Here’s a little gift from me to everyone. I really hope everyone enjoys this last part to this miniseries as much as I enjoyed writing them!

Warning: I have never written anything even remotely close to smut and this story gets a teeny bit smutty so please be gentle with me.

Please like and reblog or leave some replies if you liked it!

Taglist: @novareign1, @libbymouse, @calwitch, @soldade, @happiness-in-the-dark, @seriouslygoodlookinggents, @wolvesandhoundshowltogether, @zealoushoundrancheclipse, @seanh-boredom, @speakerforthedead0, @rn7rocks, @writingforhenry, @weallhaveadestiny, @suueeeeeee

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“Because. We kissed."

Kissed.

Did you hear him right? Did he just say you kissed? You two kissed? And you didn't remember?

Just the thought of it made you dissolve into fits of uncontrollable laughter.

A valiant effort on his part, truly. He really looked frustrated and confused that you didn't remember. What a brilliant actor.

"Phew!" you brushed the tears from the sides of your eyes and rubbed your nose with the back of your hand

"Right! As if I would ever forget kissing someone like you.” you gestured to him from head to toe, “Specimen.”

“Alright,” he crossed his muscular arms against his equally muscular chest, “I am one hundred and ten percent sure it was you and I’m not about to let you change my mind, madame.”

The challenge was clear in his voice and honestly? It was really hot, his whole stern and smug vibe actually made you forget that you were trying to defend your honour.

How could he just look like that? All tall and handsome and muscular? It threw you off your game. He looked like he was God's favourite.

"Aren’t we going to dinner?" you asked, now openly staring at his eyes

"Oh, god. Of course, you must be starving. I apologise." he dropped his proud stance and immediately grabbed your coat from the rack

Henry graciously helped you put it on, his arms lingered around you just a tad bit longer than needed but it was all very good.

Something must have caught his eye as he stepped away from you. He gave you a small smile and made a move to lean in.

Oh, was this happening now?

Okay, sure. What the hell right? Since he claims to have already kissed you before maybe he needed to be reminded.

You could do that. You knew how to kiss, you’ve kissed people before.

As he leaned in, the smell of his cologne invaded your senses. It was musky but also floral. Combined with his naturally clean, fresh scent, you could just picture yourself on a leisurely stroll with him in a field somewhere, the pristine air carrying the scent of earthy wood and spring flowers all around you. Henry would be gazing at you adoringly and he’d be in a soaked white shirt even though it was a sunny day.

Armed with that picture in your mind, nothing could go wrong. You were definitely feeling it.

You tilted your chin upwards, leaning in to meet him halfway, more than ready to feel those luscious lips on yours. You shut your eyes, just to make it more romantic.

His arms wrapped around you and you went in for the kill.

That’s when the worst possible thing happened. Well, perhaps not the worst thing but this was pretty fucking close.

Instead of the soft lips you were expecting, your lips met the soft material of his sweater.

Yes, that’s right. His sweater.

You, Y/N Y/LN, had just planted a big ol’ smooch on Henry Cavill’s sweater.

Your eyes snapped open and you wondered what you did so wrong in your past life to deserve this. How could you have misjudged the situation so wrongly?

The second Henry felt the tiny amount of pressure on his shoulder, he knew he fucked up. He had no idea why he didn’t just tell you that the collar of your coat was sticking up, why did he feel the need to straighten it himself? Now, what was he going to do? He didn’t want to embarrass you.

But, it was a little too late for that now, wasn’t it?

You both stepped away at the same time, seeming to look at anything else in the room but each other. It was nice of him to also feel embarrassed on your behalf but, you felt like everyone the world over was cringing out of their skin from secondhand embarrassment.

“So, dinner?” Henry offered you his strong arm, grinning at you like nothing happened

Was it possible for him to be even more perfect? As you looped your arm through his, you found out that it was.

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

The expansive cityscape was laid out before you from the secluded trellis covered terrace of the restaurant he chose. The view was beautiful, the lights of the city sprinkled across buildings, homes, and streets, the inky black and blue sky stretching far beyond.

Gazing out at it should have made you feel calm, at peace. But you were a bundle of nerves. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think that you’d be on a date with Henry Cavill and you wouldn’t have imagined that he would be accusing you of forgetting that you shared a kiss.

“Look,” you rested your arms on the table, looking at him as seriously as you could without getting lost in his eyes, “I swear, if we really did kiss, I would remember.”

Henry studied you quietly amidst the hustle and bustle of the restaurant beyond the French doors. It was endearing to him, how quickly you would sometimes switch from confident assertiveness to awkward fumbling.

For you, it was a test of endurance to look past the god-given good looks and focus on trying to anticipate what his next move was.

Turns out, it was one in your favour.

“You know what? I think you’re right.”

You almost did a spit take with your wine. Thank God you weren’t wearing anything white.

Okay, act cool. That should be easy, right? You were an actor after all. Just be cool. Relax your shoulders, unclench your jaw, stop sweating.

"I must've been mistaken. I truly apologise."

He looked so sheepish, you actually reached over to put your hand on his. You tilted your head and gave him an understanding smile. A wave of relief washed over your body and to Henry, it showed. Your rigid posture finally loosened and you even managed to lace your fingers through his.

"I totally get it. I mean, with our jobs? We meet dozens of people everyday, it's not hard to be confused."

His heart leapt into his throat at the contact, it felt like his entire arm was covered in live wires but he would endure it just to savour your hand in his.

"Let's focus on our date, yeah?"

"Yes, absolutely," you nodded enthusiastically, "Please. Tell me all about you."

"Oh, but I'd rather hear about you."

You were flattered, really. But just in case this was never going to happen again, you needed to get him talking and sponge up as much information as you could.

"And you will, but let’s hear about you first.”

He wanted to argue but you were already looking at him expectantly and despite your short time together, he was already struggling to say no to you.

So, he talked, and talked, and talked, much more than he’s ever dared to talk in his whole life. And you listened, absolutely captivated by his eloquence, his intelligence, his passion, and his wit. Not to mention his voice, deep and silky and hypnotising. Why people thought he lacked personality was a mystery to you.

“I do love theatre,” he explained with a mouthful pasta. It was adorable, no questions asked. “I wish I had that courage and longevity to just deliver every single night for months on end.”

“I actually started out in theatre.” you nodded your head as he widened his eyes at you questioningly. “Yup. I did a decent run of The Tempest at the Yard a year back.”

That’s when the ball dropped. Time seemed to stop for Henry, his drink hovered in the air just as he was about to raise it to his lips. It had finally made itself known, his smoking gun. He faltered only for a second before masking his triumphant smirk with his wine glass.

One harmless little question out of his mouth had you turning as red as the cherry tomatoes artfully scattered in the salad that was set before you.

“Ah, yes. Didn’t you play Miranda?”

You stopped stirring your iced tea and furrowed a brow at him.

“Yes. Yes, I was. Did you catch a show?”

“I did. I was at the opening night after party as well.” he enunciated this part slowly and clearly, hoping that your eyes would spark with recognition

But they didn’t.

“Isn’t that a shame. We could have done this earlier if we crossed paths that night.”

Henry pursed his lips and nodded, mildly disheartened but nonetheless, he pressed on.

“I do recall meeting you though.”

This again?

You huffed and set your utensils on your plate. You laced your fingers together and looked him in his gorgeous ocean coloured eyes.

“Okay. If that is the night in question then I will admit that I… may have kissed someone but it wasn’t you.”

“Well, well, well…” he raised an eyebrow at you and you instantly coloured

It wasn’t one of your finest moments and you figured you would never have to dig that memory out of the vault but here it was.

“I know how this sounds,” you shook your head disapprovingly at him, “But it’s not. Okay. On God, it wasn’t you.”

Henry nodded yet again, narrowing his eyes at you. The silent treatment and judgy look he had on forced you to keep talking, which probably wasn’t the best idea.

“It wasn’t you, Henry. Okay? It was just some random dude in a nice sweater and a signet ring or something.”

Alarm bells started clanging in your head as your eyes swept over your dinner date. Nice sweater, check. A signet ring resting on his pinky, check.

“It wasn’t you.” you repeated in more of a whisper, more to convince yourself than anything else

Throughout your debate, bits and pieces of that night started to come back to you. The most embarrassing part came to mind first, it would probably be your saving grace but, did you really want to tell Henry Cavill what you thought you did?

“Am I really that bad a kisser? That you felt the need to completely erase it from your memory?”

His tone was joking but you could see in his eyes that he was a little bit hurt. It was going to be a cold day in hell if you were going to be the person to make Henry Cavill doubt his skills in the kissing area.

“I kissed a male prostitute that night, okay!” you yelled out in exasperation

Thank God your table was situated on the terrace or else a restaurant full of people would have been in on your little secret. As your voice echoed off the walls, you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself. How much embarrassment were you going to endure?

“A male prostitute?” Henry repeated slowly, clearly having a difficult time processing this new information

“Yes.” you groaned, leaning back in your seat and covering your face with your hands

---One year before---

The curtains closed to thunderous applause, whistles and standing ovations. Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to keep your breathing steady.

Did that really just happen?

You looked around at your castmates and wrangled them into a group hug.

“Did I really just do that?” you asked Marge upon meeting her backstage

“Yes, you did! Now go on and get changed. It’s after party time.”

With that, she sent you off with a smack on your ass.

You’d only known Marge for a few months since you arrived in London but you liked her already. It’s not like you had a choice though, really, she was the only one you knew.

“How about that one, that one over there?” Marge slurred, shoulders knocking into yours, less than discreetly pointing out some guy in the crowd of party goers

“Shh! Marge!” you giggled, more than a little tipsy yourself

Opening night was a smashing success, it was your first ever gig anywhere, really. You were so nervous the entire time, you thought you were doomed to fuck up and forget your lines or something but that moment never came.

“HEY! REVIEWS ARE OUT!” someone yelled in the crowd

“Here we go.” you murmured, knocking back your drink and tugging Marge along

The huge crowd gathered around your director, who was standing on a stool. It was a tight squeeze since a good chunk of the people who came were already hammered. Someone from behind shoved you forward and you rather inelegantly fell into the arms of the man next to you.

“Whoa there.” you could just make out the deep velvety voice above the murmurings of the crowd

“Oh, God, I am so sorry, I-” you trailed off when you finally laid eyes on your rescuer

Oh, wow.

You couldn’t decide which feature to focus on first. The captivating eyes that were a shade of blue that your alcohol-soaked brain couldn’t even comprehend, the strong chiseled jawline you needed a protractor to measure, or the perfect stray curls that fell onto his forehead?

Decisions, decisions.

“Are you alright? You almost fell.”

Goosebumps broke out on your arms as he helped you stand upright.

God, he was handsome, an observation you thought you had kept to yourself.

The tall man chuckled, still holding on to your forearms, “Thanks very much. I’m He-”

“And Y/N, my incomparable Miranda!” a booming voice interrupted him from the front of the room

“Fuck, that’s me.”

You broke from his grasp and fought your way through the crowds, leaving your hero looking out after you.

“Newcomer Y/N Y/L/N’s performance as Miranda is the glittering centrepiece to this refreshing, masterful take on an enduring classic,” the director read aloud, allowing the crowd to raise their glasses to you

You smiled at everyone, inadvertently meeting the eye of your tall handsome man.

When the crowd dispersed, you and Marge found yourselves back at the open bar, eyeing up every guy that passed by.

“Y/N, you’re on the fast track now. You killed tonight, now it’s time to pick your prize! How about that one? In the corner? Looks tall, shaggy hair…”

“Marge, that’s a ficus.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that other ficus has been looking over since we set up camp here.”

You followed the tilt of her head to the same guy from earlier, the achingly handsome one. He raised his glass to you and you waved sloppily back. It was the alcohol, okay? Open bar, what were you gonna do?

Marge whistled low, sizing him up from head to toe, “Y/N, that’s a male prostitute if I’ve ever seen one and I have seen a lot of ones.”

The fry you had chomped down barely made it halfway down your throat before coming back up again, “What? No! Marge, he’s not.”

“But he is. Y/N, that man is tall, hung, and handsome. There is no man that tall, hung, and handsome that isn’t either an actor or a male prostitute.”

“Tall, hung, and handsome.” you mumbled, raking your eyes over him as discreetly as you could

In your inebriated state, you completely forgot to ask Marge why he couldn’t have been an actor. Why did her mind immediately head for the strip club? And why did yours follow suit?

“Imma go and bag myself a stripper, Marge. Okay?”

“Yes! Use protection!”

Before strutting off or more like stumbling off, you downed some more booze which probably was not as good of an idea than you thought. Not even halfway to him, you decided that you were teetering in your heels a little bit too much, so you took them off.

“Oh. Hey there.” the same silky smooth voice from earlier greeted you

“Ah, fuck. You’re tall.”

Looking up at him made you dizzy, like standing at the top of a giant skyscraper and looking down at the very edge.

He chuckled and you watched entranced as his face just lit up like Christmas. You decided then and there that you would like to kiss the Christmas, very much so indeed.

The liquid courage in you was really doing its job. You took his hand and dragged him away from the party. This was fine, wasn’t it? It’s not like he was complaining, he looked rather amused actually. Things like this probably happen to him a lot in his line of work.

“Well, now you have me, what are you going to do with me?” he asked teasingly once you two were tucked away in a dark corner

The combined effects of the excessive alcohol, the high of your first successful job, and the way this sinfully handsome man was looking at you made your next move the easiest thing in the world.

You balled the front of his sweater in your fist and tugged him down towards you. He was too tall.

Who on earth was this ballsy, clumsy, beautiful, talented stranger?

Henry didn’t get the chance to ask before his lips came crashing down and immediately, wildfire.

A shockwave of frenzy ran through his body, he needed to feel you. He was all hands and lips and ragged breaths. His lips traveled down the smooth path of your throat, nipping and sucking as he went. You were putty in his hands.

“Jump.” he growled

You did as he asked and he latched his hands underneath your thighs and planted you against the wall. His lower half pressed into yours and you knew that Marge was right. Your hands raked through his hair and you reveled in the feel of him, strong, confident, in charge. His large hands made their way to your bottom and he squeezed gently.

A breathy moan escaped your lips and you knew you needed to have more of this man. Your fumbling hands made their way to his belt buckle but he set you down on your feet and held you steady.

“What..?” you whispered, suddenly disoriented

“I really should take you on a date first.” he panted

Sober, you definitely would have taken him up on his offer, male prostitute or not, but you were far from it and your head was still spinning so you thought you’d shut your eyes for a while and have him catch your unconscious form.

With you over his shoulder and your shoes in one hand, Henry made his way to his car and drove you safely home, relying on the satnav and your slurred directions.

He laid you gently in bed, brushing the hair away from your face. You snored in your drunken sleep and Henry smiled at the sound.

This was an encounter he was sure he would remember for a long time.

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

“Well, that was me,” Henry nodded his head with his bottom lip jutted out. “Exactly as you remembered it.”

Tall, hung, and handsome, huh? That wasn’t anything new to him. He’s been described using far more… graphic detail, if his time searching his name on Tumblr was anything to go by. But hearing it come from your mouth turned him several shades of red.

You, on the other hand, had no words. Again. But you figured that it was all Marge’s fault.

“So, I suppose I was right?” he confirmed, unable to contain the self-satisfied smirk on his face

“Uh, yeah,” you sighed, absolutely exhausted from your little trip down memory lane. “Yeah, I guess you were right.”

Slowly, you met each other’s eyes. A moment passed before you both dissolved into fits of laughter.

“Do I look like a male prostitute? Did I exude that kind of energy at the time?” Henry guffawed, shoulders shaking

“God, I don’t even know how I thought that! I was super drunk, okay?” you covered your face with your hands, mortified and extremely amused at yourself

The laughter died down and you were left gazing at each other fondly. Dessert had long since been over and the night went on, the candlelights on your table and scattered around the quiet terrace intensified the feeling that was passing between you.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

You didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened and settled on your lips. Unlike all the other times today, you didn’t feel nervous, you didn’t feel like you were about to make a fool of yourself, you felt completely calm.

“Would it be alright with you if we picked up where we left off that night?”

Ever the gentleman. You smiled and made your way over to him.

“Hi.” you made yourself comfortable on his lap and you laced your arms around his neck

“Hello, there.” he whispered against your lips

It was probably not the best place to do this, in a restaurant where upwards of twenty people were just beyond the terrace doors but you were in your own little world.

You were endlessly thankful that you were sober for this, you would never forgive yourself otherwise.

When his lips finally met yours, you wondered how on earth you ever forgot such a feeling. It was gentle and soft, as most of these things start, his thumbs caressed that apple of your cheeks then he laid a chaste kiss on each.

You breathed long and hard as his hands splayed on your back, pushing you closer to him. His warm tongue traced the outline of your bottom lip before exploring your mouth, the taste of you mixed with the subtle taste of wine was exquisite and he wanted more. He drank you in, holding you flush against him.

“Wait.” you took his hand and led him to the far side of the terrace to an alcove enveloped in a curtain of lush vines

“When did you spot this?” Henry asked, breathless as you sat him down and straddled him once again

“On the way in.” you had the audacity to blush

“You had plans for me already?”

“A girl always comes prepared.”

Nothing would ever prepare you for the sight of his full length, once his trousers were lowered, it was over for you. Henry took control by shoving your underwear to the side and impaling you onto him. You inhaled sharply, screwing your eyes tightly shut.

“Are you okay?” he struggled to control himself, having you quivering on top of him was severely testing his restraint

“Yes. Please. Move.” all you could manage were monosyllabic answers

And move he did. It should be illegal to be this good.

The night air was cool but you were both slick with sweat, you two had lost your tops a while ago and Henry’s tongue swept across the valley of your breasts and marked his territory everywhere he could. His thrusts were enough to bruise you but you never wanted anything more than to feel him.

“Henry,” you gasped out as he continued to hit that spot that made you see stars

He could sense that you were close, you were tightening around him and gripping him like a vise.

“Let go, lovely.” he whispered in your ear, committing the way your face twisted into a mask of pleasure and desperation to memory

You rode him furiously, the sound of your flesh colliding over and over again mingled with your hoarse moans, you were certain that someone would hear you but at that moment all you cared about was reaching your peak and with Henry Cavill at the helm?

His large hand clamped around your mouth as you came, you writhed and arched your body uncontrollably as his thrusts became more erratic. He pulled out of you and began to finish himself off, he did not expect for your hand to join his and he did not expect to come so quickly once it did.

“Jesus.” he panted, reaching over to smooth your hair out of your face

You shivered, suddenly very aware that you weren't wearing anything at all. Henry helped you dress quickly and wrapped his own coat around you, rubbing some heat into your arms.

When you refused to look him in the eye the entire ride back to your flat, that’s when Henry started getting nervous.

It’s not like he could ask you if you enjoyed it? I mean, he could but that would make him look like an amateur and he would really like to think that he was no amateur in that area. So instead, he took your hand as you stood in front of your door.

“Y/N, I would love to do this again. The date, not the sex- I mean, I would like to have sex with you again but that's not what I'm after-Holy shit."

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Henry rubbed at his face with a hand and sighed, "Do you think you'd like to see me again?"

"Do you think you'd like to stay the night?"

Both of you asked your questions at the same time and you both looked taken aback at them.

"What makes you think I don't want to see you again?" you wrapped your arms around his torso and looked up at him

"You were silent the whole car ride?"

He looked so unsure and a little afraid that you couldn't help but squeeze him. How could someone be both heartbreakingly handsome and adorable all at the same time?

"I was just summoning up the courage to ask you to stay the night!"

"Oh thank God."

He swept you off your feet and threw your door open but, you didn’t end up in bed (you’d get there later), you ended up in the same place you started, on the couch, with him spectating and occasionally helping out as you played Witcher 3.

The next morning, you woke up to a text message and a forwarded article from Marge,

“HOW BEING A STAN GOT Y/N Y/L/N HER MAN”

YOU TWO ARE EVERYWHERE. CHECK IT OUT! I TAKE CASH, CHEQUES, AND LAVISH GIFTS. YOU’RE WELCOME.

A muscular arm gently wrapped around your bare waist and a tender kiss was pressed onto your shoulder. You looked back at your handsome bedfellow and smiled.

You’d take a look at it later. Right now, you had better things to do.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fic #Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill #geralt of rivia #the witcher #the man from uncle

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intheticklecloset · 3 years ago

Text

Saiki K Sentence Starters Collection

A collection of the Saiki K sentence starters I’ve done, compiled for the sake of ease. These are all stand-alone stories.

~~~

1) Lee Kaidou, Ler Aren

“Stop squirming,” Aren laughed, struggling to keep up with the flailing of his friend who was rolling on the ground in a feeble attempt to get away from the fingers prodding into his ribs and sides. “You’re making this more difficult for yourself, Jet Black Wings.”

“Dohohohohohon’t cahahahahall me thahahahaht while you’re-!” Kaidou sputtered, giggling hysterically through every word. He was unbearably ticklish, and right now Aren was bound and determined to completely destroy him. “Plehehehehease, I cahahahahan’t!”

“It’s just a minute, Shun.” Aren finally straddled his waist to keep him pinned down, searching out his bottom ribs through the fabric of his shirt. “You can handle a minute, can’t you?”

“NO!! Of course I cahahahahahahan’t! God – AREN!!” Kaidou tossed his head back with a screech, laughter being forced from his lungs as his taller, stronger friend finally found the backs of his ribs and curled his fingers into the grooves there. The blue-haired teen arched his back, but eventually he couldn’t arch up any farther and had to fall back down again. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! NAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Aren laughed again. “Dude, how are you so ticklish?”

“I DOHOHOHOHON’T – I CAHAHAHAHAN’T HEHEHEHEHELP IT!!” Kaidou’s laughter was loud and desperate, but the bright smile lighting up his features told Aren that he wasn’t hating it completely. “LEHEHEHEHET ME GO!! PLEASE!! NO MOHOHOHOHOHORE!!”

After another several seconds, Aren complied with his friend’s screaming pleas, climbing off of him. “You can’t even take a minute of tickling? That’s both sad and really funny.”

Kaidou groaned. “Shut up. You’re lucky we’re friends, or I’d have to kill you for that.”

“Uh-huh.” Aren poked his side again, making Kaidou yelp and roll away. “Good thing I don’t have to worry, then.”

2) Lee Saiki, Ler Kaidou

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh,” Kaidou commented as he and Saiki walked home from school one afternoon.

Saiki groaned to himself. Not many things amuse me enough to make me laugh.

“Well that’s a shame.”

Is it, though?

“Yeah! I want to hear it!” Kaidou hummed, watching him with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Saiki hesitated. He knew – he always knew – where that look was heading. Around his family he’d always been able to teleport away before anything happened, but here, with Kaidou, out in the open…this was not good.

For a few moments Saiki was able to dodge Kaidou’s attempts to grab his sides or ribs, but eventually he backed himself up into a wall, and that split second was all the blue-haired teen needed to find his purchase and start tickling.

Saiki hated how quickly he burst into laughter. Not even giggles – actual laughter, right out the gate. The sound seemed to surprise Kaidou, but not enough to keep him from letting up.

“Dude – your laugh is so awesome!” his friend said with a grin, squeezing up and down his sides and ribs.

Saiki struggled against him, but again, he couldn’t use his super strength to push him off without giving away that he wasn’t entirely normal. His best bet was to ride it out and then wipe Kaidou’s memory afterward. But he’d be darned if he was going to resort to begging him to stop.

“Hey, you’re not asking me to stop,” Kaidou mused as though reading his mind. “Do you like being tickled, Saiki? That’s hilarious! I’d have never expected that from you.”

Well…maybe he’d beg just this once.

3) Lee Saiki, Ler Aiura

“Just a smile~” Aiura teased, poking Saiki’s side with her fingertips. She’d latched herself onto his arm for their boyfriend-girlfriend show to throw off yet another Saiki fangirl, and now he couldn’t get away from her without ruining the routine. But dang it if she wasn’t making it really difficult for him!

Stop, he hissed, trying to remain as stoic as possible while continuing to walk out of the front doors of the school.

“But if you don’t smile, people won’t buy it,” she insisted, poking him again. “Come on~” This time her finger found a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves at the base of his ribs, and he jerked to the side involuntarily, letting out a sputtering giggle. Aiura stopped, staring at him. “Oh my god – you’re actually ticklish?”

Of course I am. Plenty of people are. He walked a little faster, practically dragging her with him. Come on, let’s get out of here.

“But I want to make you smile more,” she whined, trying her best to keep up.

Not here.

As soon as they were out of everyone’s sight, he teleported them far away from school grounds, where there’d be no chance of one of their classmates finding them. Just as he was beginning to relax, however, Aiura dug all ten fingers into his ribcage, making him gasp and choke on a laugh, trying to twist away from her but only succeeding in finding himself trapped in her embrace with his back to her chest, the height difference making it difficult for him to squirm away from her.

“S-Stohohohohop,” he laughed pleadingly. He didn’t know what else to do; it had been years since he’d been tickled, and his body was reacting faster than he could keep up with. “Aiura, plehehease!”

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re tickled,” she cooed, giggling into his ear. “Relax, Saiki. There’s no one here to know, is there? I think you can take a little more~”

4) Lee Saiki, Ler Toritsuka

Toritsuka had seen Saiki use his astral projection powers before, but never in a situation in which it wasn’t dire. He felt kind of odd just hanging out in the room with his friend’s body lying unconscious before him while Saiki was off investigating something.

“Is your body basically dead?” he asked the quiet air, not really expecting an answer.

Of course not. If it was I wouldn’t be able to project.

“Right, right. So, what? It’s just sleeping?”

No. It’s too difficult to explain. Just leave it alone.

“But can it still feel things? Like if I poke your nose, would you feel it?”

Why would you do that in the first place? Be quiet. I’m concentrating.

Toritsuka hummed, kneeling by Saiki’s inanimate body, poking his cheek. He didn’t react, but Saiki’s voice told him to knock it off. The medium smirked, feeling curious and mischievous. “What if I tickle you? Will you feel that?”

Don’t—

But it was too late. Toritsuka curled his fingers into Saiki’s side. A moment later his friend’s projection shot back into the room and reentered his body, waking it up with a jolt and a laugh that was clearly unintentional.

Saiki grabbed his wrist, a smile on his lips despite himself. Don’t, I said—

But the medium wasn’t to be stopped now. He shoved Saiki back onto the floor and dug into his ribs, enjoying the sputtering, unpracticed giggles that bubbled up out of him. “I didn’t even know you were ticklish. Oh, Aiura is going to love this.”

Stop it! Saiki used his super strength to push Toritsuka away, growling mostly out of embarrassment. Don’t you dare tell anyone else about this.

“Or what?” the medium teased.

Saiki teleported them above the middle of the ocean.

Toritsuka clung onto him for dear life, laughing. “Okay, okay, I won’t tell! I promise!”

5) Lee Saiki, Ler Aiura

I swear if you tickle me… Saiki threatened, holding perfectly still. He didn’t need to look at Aiura to know she was smirking.

“What is it, Saiki? You’ll teleport away? Not in front of all these people,” she teased. She had her arms wrapped around his waist, her chin on his shoulder, squeezing his sides gently. He grunted and squirmed, doing everything he could not to react beyond the tiny smile that was already forming on his lips.

Don’t, he thought to her. I don’t want anyone to see me like this.

“Aw, come on. It’s just the two of us. No one else here even knows you.” Aiura snuggled closer, squeezing harder. “Just give me one little giggle. Please?”

No. He grit his teeth against her efforts, but was unable to help the full smile lighting up his features now. Stop it.

“Come on~” she teased, moving up to his ribs now. “Just laugh a little~”

Saiki gasped sharply when she got to his lower ribs. He shot his arms down to try and pry her off, twisting in her grip as much as possible. “Please,” he said aloud, his voice laced with a waver that only encouraged her to dig deeper. “Plehehehease, don’t!

“What? Was that a giggle?” she cried dramatically, digging in with everything she had, holding him close to her so he couldn’t get away. Aiura beamed when he finally broke down into helpless laughter, his grip on her arms weakening. “Ah! There it is!”

“Plehehehehease, stohohohohop!” he begged, his laughter coming out jerky and foreign and completely endearing. “Mikoto!”

Finally she let up, still hugging him close. “That was cute.”

“Don’t ever do that again,” he muttered, turning his face away from hers.

She smiled and didn’t reply. The light blush on his cheeks was more than enough for her.

6) Lee Saiki, Lers Kaidou and Aren

“Aren,” Kaidou said seriously, “hold him.”

Saiki was trapped. He couldn’t teleport away, and he couldn’t use his super strength to fight either of his “friends” off, so his only option was to try and halfheartedly wrestle against the surprisingly strong Aren as he hooked his arms under Saiki’s to hold him in place while Kaidou approached with wiggling fingers.

It didn’t take a psychic to figure out what their intentions were.

Soon Kaidou shot his hands out to Saiki’s sides and squeezed, grinning wickedly at him as he did so. Saiki bit his lip and squirmed, but refused to give them the satisfaction of smiling or giggling. Still, his reactions were enough to encourage them both; no one who wasn’t ticklish would fight back the way he was now.

“Come on, just a little smile,” Kaidou teased, continuing to squeeze up and down his sides. Saiki continued to fight back until the blue-haired boy got a little too close to his lower ribs, making him flinch harder and make a kind of choking noise in the back of his throat. He hated that a smile managed to break free from him. He struggled even more against Aren, but again, he couldn’t truly fight in the way he was capable of. He’d be darned if this was how they found out he was a psychic.

“There’s a smile,” Aren teased into his ear, his breath tickling in its own way, making Saiki whine a little and begin to blush. “Now you need to let the laughs out~”

Kaidou hummed thoughtfully, switching his tactic from squeezing to kneading purposefully into Saiki’s lower ribs, grinning when the pink-haired boy arched his back, squealed, and finally dissolved into helpless giggles.

“Aha! There you go, Saiki!”

Saiki pressed his lips together, trying to muffle himself, but Kaidou was relentless in his tickling, and soon he was practically doubled over in hysterics, barely able to stand up on his own. But again, he’d be darned if he’d let them hear him beg. So he just stood there, forced to take it, determined to hold out for as long as they deemed necessary. It was just tickling. He could handle it. Right…?

7) Lee Aren, Ler Saiki

“Gah!” Aren whirled around, glaring at the first person he saw who was nearby. “Kaidou!”

“What?” Kaidou asked innocently, looking genuinely confused.

“Don’t do that!”

“Don’t do what?”

Aren grunted, turning around and continuing up the aisle to where Saiki sat. A moment later, he felt another pinch to his other side and whirled again, this time snapping at Nendou.

“What? I didn’t do anything,” Nendou said.

“You all think you’re so funny,” Aren grumbled, his eyes scanning the room. He was trying not to let it show how flustered he was getting, but he knew if someone pinched his side again he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from giggling, and he did not want to giggle.

Saiki sat a few desks up from him, mindlessly flipping through a book, not actually reading anything. He was hyperaware of Aren’s presence approaching him, and he was determined to keep the boy away from him at all costs. He knew his “friend” was intending to invite him to go bike riding with him and Kaidou later, but the psychic wanted none of it.

“Seriously!” Aren cried, whirling a third time, eyes latching onto Chiyo. “Quit tickling me!”

Chiyo blinked up at him. “Tickling you? I didn’t even touch you, Aren.”

Saiki masterfully hid a smirk of his own. He’d been using his powers to poke and prod at Aren’s sides, making him think it was his classmates ganging up on him, and now he’d just outed himself to everyone without the pink-haired boy having to lift a finger. This was perfect.

“You’re ticklish?” Kaidou exclaimed, leaping up from his seat with a big smile. “Why didn’t you say so, Aren?”

Aren took a step back. “W-Wait, no, did I say ticklish? I meant…I meant, uh…” Then he took off at a sprint toward the door, ducking under the teacher just as he entered the classroom. Kaidou was right on his heels, both of them ignoring the protests of their professor.

Saiki smiled. It seemed Aren was sufficiently distracted.

#fanfiction #tickle drabbles #compilation #quick prompts #sentence starters #coffee shots #saiki k #the disastrous life of saiki k

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y0itsbri · 3 years ago

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Falling for You

ballet au one-shot for @gallavichthings 's a.u.gust

summary: dance instructor mickey! ian keeps messing up the lifts with the dancers, and mickey cannot have his girls injured because of this himbo, even if he is hot. he makes ian stay after class to practice on him -- and he swears there's no ulterior motives. but they're so close and his hands are all over him and he can feel his breath and it is so unprofessional but fuck it.

words: 2k

Mickey had a new guy in his class that wasn't doing... well... by any standards. Alright, the dude sucked. Mickey had been a ballet instructor for several years and not once has he met a dancer as uncoordinated and unbalanced as Ian fucking Gallagher.

Somehow, Ian had managed to not only rip the ballet barre off of the goddamn wall in his attempt at a grand plie, fallen flat on his face after pas de chat gone wrong, but he also managed to launch his fellow ballerinas onto the floor instead of the air.

He was a disaster.

Mickey had better shit to do with his time at the studio than patch up his dancers, and studio, after Gallagher's classes. Svetlana's father would have his ass if she got injured on his watch. And Ian being the only guy in their class, there was no way for him not to share the front-and-center spotlight with Svetlana.

Yeah, Mickey wasn't letting Ian any-fucking-where near Svet if he could help it. At least in his current state. Dude was a piece of work.

Mickey figured he would be a lot more upset about all this if Ian's apologetic puppy dog eyes weren't so goddamn convincing.

Fucking Gallagher.

"Ayo, Mands! Come help me with this!" Mickey called, echoing in the studio, now nearly empty besides the Milkovich siblings and a six-foot-tall ginger man looking both utterly clueless and utterly terrified. Mickey was utterly hopeless.

Mandy popped in the doorframe, sliding her shoes on but leaving them untied.

"Can't! I got actual shit to do! I don't live and breathe the studio like your sorry ass. No offense, Ian, my brother is great, please stay. Full offense, Mickey, get a fucking life!"

Mickey was left speechless and slightly embarrassed by Mandy's outburst and only managed to flip her off before she was out the door.

"Charming sister you got there," Ian let a quiet laugh slip before schooling his expression at Mickey's lack of amusement.

Mickey sighed and rubbed his hands down the length of his face for a moment. Ian and Mickey held eye contact a bit longer before Mickey abruptly straightened up and clapped his hands together. The noise startled Ian from his own amused trance.

"Alright, Clifford, how do you feel about private lessons for a little bit until you're not tripping over your own feet?"

Ian stepped forward to argue, but, proving Mickey's point, stumbled over the shoes on the floor in front of him. He didn't miss the way that Mickey's mouth quirked up on the side.

"Can't afford extra classes," Ian shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

"It's on me," Mickey swiped his top lip. He didn't miss the way that Ian's gaze lingered on his mouth,"Kinda need you..." really want you, "to, uh, look good..." as if he doesn't already, fucking red-headed alien-looking motherfucker, "on the floor..." of my bedroom, goddamn it, Mick, get it together! "the, uh, dance floor."

Ian paused, considering the way that Mickey was stumbling over his words in a way that one might call endearing, another might call the-worst-fucking-experience-of-his-life.

"I'll do it."

Do me. Seriously, go drink some water, oh my god.

Mickey literally took a sip from his water bottle, hoping that it would at least calm his nerves. He was a professional!

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You free after class?" A pause, "To work on some skills, I mean."

"It's a date," Ian smirked, leaning down to pick up his shoes from the ground in front of him. By the time he was upright again, Mickey had already started walking away, but the blush on his cheeks and the back of his neck could be spotted from a mile away. He was utterly fucked.

Mickey yawned and got up from his stretching position on the floor. He walked over to the stereo, systematically knocking his dancer's feet on his way over until they were all turned out and pointed.

"No Orange Boy today?" Svetlana asked, meeting Mickey's eyes with a challenging stare.

Mickey ignored the chorus of "He's so hot!" "Have you seen his arms?" and "Ian's the nicest!" from the rest of the girls.

Svetlana raised her eyebrow in question and Mickey's defenses flew out the window. This goddamn power dynamic was going to be the death of him.

"I put him on private lessons until he's no longer a disruption to the class," he shrugged.

"Aww," one brunette pouted.

"Disruption to class or disruption to tiny bulge in your pants?" Svetlana smirked, earning some scandalized gasps from the other dancers.

Mickey flipped her off, "The fucker made me take out a greater insurance policy with all his accidents, don't be fucking absurd."

A blonde nodded understandingly from the back of the class, "My ankle is still a little funky from the last lift we tried."

Mickey held his arms out in a display of I-told-you-so and Svetlana rolled her eyes.

"Great!" Mickey clapped his hands together, earning the full attention of his class as they hurried to their feet, "Now that all the hot drama is outta the air, let's do a quick warm up combo across the floor. Chasse step pas de bourree double pirouette step arabesque, in 5, 6, 7, 8..."

Ian had been waiting outside the studio for the last ten minutes of class, more-so watching his instructor shift around than paying attention to what the dancers were actually doing. That's probably what got him into his current predicament, and he couldn't decide whether that was a curse or a blessing. Mickey's arms flexed as he pointed across the room to call out someone's weak spot.

Yup, it was a blessing.

Oh shit, Mickey was looking his way. Was this a double sided mirror? No, of course not. Why would there be a double sided mirror? Oh, Mickey was definitely staring at him. Fuck. Wait, did he just wink? No way, he must've just blinked. With one eye. Yeah, totally normal. Nothing to overthink, Ian.

Get it together!

Mickey dismissed his class five minutes early and it had nothing to do with the Jolly Ginger Giant standing outside his studio.

While most of his dancers wordlessly accepted the easy out, Svetlana stayed back to taunt. "Have fun with private lessons," she sneered, jerking off an invisible cock.

"Choke on it," Mickey retorted tossing her warm-up jacket at her face, which she swiftly caught.

Svetlana turned and made a show of looking Ian up and down, his cheeks turning pink under her intense gaze. She faced Mickey head on, "You will be vegetable stew by the time this man is done with you."

The fuck does that mean?

Sometimes Mickey thought that Svetlana spoke in riddles just to mess with him. He blamed it on the Russian accent, never mind he was part Ukrainian himself. The languages were similar, but not identical, fuck you very much.

But, damn, forget that, Gallagher looked good. He was wearing his usual white tank top and grey sweatpants, but Mickey never got the opportunity to openly ogle in class. Not that that was what he was doing now.

Ian returned the long look appreciatively before stepping closer and Mickey snapped back into professionalism, well as far as professionalism goes, Milkovich-style.

He turned his back on the bane of his pathetic existence and snapped a quick but polite, "Get your shoes on and we can get started."

"Oh, right."

That seemed to be enough to get the gears in Ian's head going again as he dropped his bag to the floor, echoing in the truly empty studio, and dropping down onto the floor himself to secure his ballet shoes, which may as well be clown shoes for as big as his feet were. Mickey fit into the same brand as the girls, but he had to order special for Gallagher.

"Thanks for doing this, Mickey."

Mickey. The way that this man said his name was making him feel all sorts of flustered that he would most definitely deny.

"Mandy said you don't usually make exceptions."

"Gotta catch you up to speed or you're gonna be dancing with the 5 year-olds, man."

Ian tilted his head considering.

Mickey frowned, "Don't do it."

Ian smirked and Mickey had to look away as a grin and blush creeped up on his own face.

"Alright, so we'll start you off with the basics."

Mickey went through their normal class routine, but broke it down slowly, pausing to explain certain positions in details he couldn't afford to spend time with in class, specifically how not to fall. It should have been fairly obvious in his opinion, but Ian still managed somehow. The first few times, he was on the floor before Mickey even knew he was going down.

But the third, Mickey made a mistake. Mickey instinctively reached out to catch him.

As soon as he realized where his hands were, he pulled them off like he'd been burned, which he may have well been. He pulled his gaze to his feet, studying the floor while he composed himself.

"Mickey," Ian waited until he looked up, and then he spoke so quietly, "You can touch me."

And what made things worse was that Ian's dazzling eyes left little to the imagination. They both knew where this was going, and the moment was too intense too quick. The longer their eyes held, the hotter Mickey felt his neck grow.

"Ya know," Ian stepped closer. "To fix my positions..."

Mickey swallowed, "Uh, I think we're done for today."

He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. He never meant them to begin with. But if Ian stayed any longer, Mickey was going to climb him like a tree and that really wasn't under his personal code of professionalism, no matter how loose those terms may be to begin with. It was getting late anyways, he reasoned with himself.

"What about the lifts? That's the important part, right?" Ian questioned, eyes pleading like he would die without this one skill being taught to him by his oh-so-unprofessional instructor.

Mickey sighed. Ya know what? Fuck it.

Mickey sauntered over to Ian, pressed his back to Ian's front, and grabbed one of Ian's massive hands and placed it on his own waist.

Ian gave an experimental squeeze and Mickey softened in his grip.

Ridiculous.

"We're not doing the lift are we?" Ian murmured breathily, hot air making the hairs on the back of Mickey's neck tingle.

"What do you think, Firecrotch?" Mickey pushed his weight back into Ian's chest, which would be the second mistake of the day.

Ian toppled over backwards, landing with a painful sounding thud and sending Mickey down on top of him before he rolled off the the side with a groan.

Ian started laughing and Mickey was concerned. Was this idiot actually fucking concussed this time? He wasn't sure how he would explain this to his insurance company.

Mickey straddled Ian's lap, gently slapping his face, "Are you good, man? Alive?"

"Never better." Ian was still smiling like an absolute goof.

Mickey raised an eyebrow in concern.

"Seriously, I just can't play things cool," Ian raised his hips to grind against Mickey's ass, "Obviously."

"You're an idiot," Mickey rolled his eyes, and all Ian could do was grin and reach up towards Mickey's neck, pulling his down until their lips almost touched, sharing breaths and excitement.

"Maybe," another breath, "But I still got you to fall for me."

It was Mickey's turn to laugh, more of a raspy exhale than anything. His "fuck you" was almost lost between them as they fell together at last.

(side note: this was the lift that they were going to do, so i feel like the hand on the waist makes sense -- gotta have a visual lmao)

#i might have an idea for a sequel/series if anyone is interested: mandy pov of this and another one shot in their relationship era???#who knows #shameless #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #mandy milkovich #ian x mickey #shameless fanfic #shameless fanfiction #gallavich fanfiction #gallavich fanfic #svetlana yevgenivna #my posts

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years ago

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"...So I Married A Monster" *Chapter 2*

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Man we just skipped the happy fun times here and went straight into the fire, didn't we? Zero to hundred REAL quick.

What can I say guys, writing is therapy. And I have a lot of demons.

Eventually we'll get some fluff....eventually. Maybe.

Tag List

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@chasingeverybreakingwave

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@gibbs274

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@storiesofsvu

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Rafael went to his car and began to think. He had to trust you would listen to what you said, if you loved him like he loved you, you would. But the thought that terrified him more than losing you right now was that William Lewis was back, and on the loose. He dialed Liv’s number as he sped back towards New York City.

“Liv,” He said very seriously as soon as she answered. “He’s back. Lewis is back,”

Meanwhile

You started to pull yourself together when you heard a small noise from the corner of the room. You saw Maggie standing there with her mouth open.

“Oh baby--” You stood up and walked over to her.

“Why was he saying that, mom?” She had lost her sassy demeanor, and was now just a scared little girl.

“I…” You put a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know, baby girl,”

“I bet it’s because he’s jealous,” She scoffed, now resuming her angry flippant self. “He’s jealous dad is a better dude than him. I don’t know why--”

“We are not getting into this again, Margaret,” You used her full name, letting her know you meant business.

“You don’t…” Maggie paused. “You don’t believe him, do you mom?”

“What?” You blinked, trying to decide whether or not to answer honestly. Her big doe eyes looked at you, begging you to confirm that her dad was the man she thought he was.

“...No, of course not sweetie,” You shook your head and pulled her into a huge hug.

But you weren’t entirely sure at all.

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

The Next Day In The SVU Office

Rafael and the squad had been working all night since he had made the call to Olivia. The squad room was now full of a corkboard full of all of William’s aliases, past transgressions, etc. Except now your name along with Maggie and Kylie’s names were added on a side stem, with “Billy Loomis?” written above it.

“So, you’re sure this chick hasn’t been helping William this whole time? Helping him hideout?” Fin asked Barba.

“What?” Rafael gasped. “No, not at all. No way,” He shook his head violently. “She didn’t even know who he was,”

“....Mmmhmm,” Fin gave the others a look.

“Look Fin I didn’t come here to here you insult my girlfriend--”

“Your girlfriend?” Nick asked. “Didn’t you say she kicked you out?”

“I don’t care, when she realizes--”

“And what if she doesn’t?” Olivia chimed in. “What if she does try to help him now?”

“Olivia!” He looked at her in betrayal. “Come on, you don’t think--”

“You said that he already convinced her to kick you out by just a few words on the phone,” Olivia pointed out. “Now that he knows you two are involved he is gonna try like hell to drive that wedge further and further,”

“But he won’t be able to if she finds out who he is,” Rafael rebutted.

“But if she won’t look, she won’t know,” Olivia stood her ground.

“She’ll look,” Rafael reiterated. “I know she will,”

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

Back at your house

It was late at night, the girls were asleep and you were on your phone in your bed with a bottle of wine. You had brought a glass to bed with you, but you were drinking straight out of the bottle.

What Rafael said yesterday was eating at you. But what was eating at you more was the fact that you were starting to believe him over the man you had shared your life with for almost a decade, a man who you had two children with.

You looked at your phone which had your text thread with Rafael pulled up on it. You went through all the texts you had ever sent. The late night conversations, the little texts in the middle of the day just to say he missed you. He was so good to you, he always had been. He would never lie to you...would he?

You closed the text thread and opened up GOOGLE. You looked to the sky and asked God to forgive you for betraying the father of your children like this; but it had to be done. You typed in the name “WILLIAM LEWIS” and hit “SEARCH”.

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

At Rafael’s Home

Rafael was staring at the text thread between you from his own phone, rubbing the screen with his thumb. He wanted so badly to call you, but he knew he needed to trust you to do this on your own. Plus, he was sure you wouldn’t answer if he called anyway. While he was staring longingly at his phone, it lit up:

UNKNOWN NUMBER CALLING

He had a pit of dread forming in his stomach, but he answered the phone anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hello there, counselor,”

“How did you get this number?”

“My lovely wife gave it to me, obviously,”

“You’re lying,”

“Am I?”

“Yes, she wouldn’t do that,”

“Oh really?” He chuckled darkly. “You really think she cares about you that much?”

“I know she does,”

“Well, you know that’s really unfortunate for you, because you won’t see her or my kids again,”

“Why are you doing this?” Rafael asked. “Why do you even have a family? What are you going to do with them?!”

“What?” He laughed. “Nothing, counselor. I assure you,”

“Bullshit,”

“No actually, it’s not,” William explained. “Y’know after I had my little...adventure, in New York. I went off the grid. Wanted to live a normal life for a little while. And then I met Y/N,”

“Uh huh..” Rafael listened impatiently.

“And then I fell in love with her, and we had two beautiful girls. And I love those girls more than anything in this world, Barba,” He explained.

“You’re a fucking liar,” Rafael spit. “You don’t know how to love,”

“Believe it or not I do,” William smirked. “I just...don’t show it in a normal way,”

“Right,” Rafael rolled his eyes.

“Hey, look,” William defended. “I was in love with Y/N for a while, I really was. And then--”

“Then what?”

“Then, she got a little naggy,” William shrugged. “She got on my nerves, and I got that itch again,”

“That itch?”

“Y’know, that...itch,”

“You wanted to kill her,”

“I did,” William admitted. “But I figured killing mommy wouldn’t be something I could get past the kiddos, so I scratched that itch in other places,”

“She did say you travelled a lot…’for work’,” Rafael recalled a conversation he had about him before with you one time, in passing. If only he knew what he knew now.

“Yeah,” William chuckled to himself.

His ‘work’ was quite extensive. And it was exhausting trying to lead a double life, but he was being honest when he said he loved his girls. He really did. He loved them more than anything or anyone he had before, maybe ever. He’d never let anyone hurt them...or turn them against him.

“Anyhow,” He continued. “Y’know I may not be in love with Y/N anymore, but you know what I hate?”

“What?”

“People touching my things,” Lewis growled.

“She is not a THING, Lewis. She’s not even yours anymore,” Rafael yelled.

“See I know you’ve never been married Barba, so maybe you don’t understand this,” Lewis lowered his voice to an eerily calm manner. “But when you marry someone, in front of God and everyone you love, it creates a bond. An everlasting bond,”

“Oh give me a break--”

“And that bond, cannot be broken. ‘Till death do us part,”

“...Are you threatening her?” Rafael was vibrating with rage.

“No, of course not counselor,” William replied innocently. “However, if you were to help her break those vows….I might be forced to,”

“Excuse me?”

“Until death do us part, Barba,” William repeated. “That means either she stays faithful to me, or I’ll have to kill her,”

“Don’t you DARE touch her Lewis, do you hear me?!” Rafael’s blood was boiling.

“Well I won’t have to, as long as you leave her be,” William replied calmly.

“....You won’t get away with this,” Rafael growled.

“Oh I think I will,” William smirked. “Because if you send anyone after me, she will die,”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Rafael growled. “You just said your kids would--”

“So maybe mommy gets in a car wreck on the way home, or God forbid robbed in a parking lot!” Lewis taunted Rafael with an evil laugh.

“You’re the fucking devil, you know that?”

“Maybe, but I know I’m a man who gets what he wants,” Lewis chuckled. “I’ll let you go Barba, I know you’re a busy man. And remember, I’ll be watching!”

And with that he hung up on Rafael.

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

Almost immediately after hanging up with Lewis, Rafael’s phone lit up again.

Y/N CALLING

“Holy shit…” He blinked in disbelief at the phone. How did you know?

“...Y/N?”

“Rafa,” You tried to keep yourself from crying, you couldn’t wake up the girls. “Rafa I...I saw William Lewis,”

“Oh god,” Rafael put a hand over his head. “Baby, I am so, so--”

“No, I’m sorry,” You cut him off. “I should have listened to you, I should have googled him, not kicked you out,”

“You didn’t know…”

“No but you did, and I should have trusted you. That’s what you do when you--” You paused, never having had said it out loud before.

“....When you what?” He waited with bated breath.

“When you love someone,” You bit your lip, hoping it wasn’t too late to say.

“I knew it,” He smiled to himself. “I knew you loved me. I knew he was full of shit,”

“What do you mean he?” Your eyes quirked.

“Shit,” Rafael realized he misspoke. “Um, well--”

“He called you, didn’t he?” You asked.

“...He said you gave him my number,” Rafael confessed.

“I didn’t, I swear to God Rafa I didn’t,” Tears stung your eyes. “I-I don’t know how he--”

“It’s fine, carino,” He assured you. “He has his ways, I know that,”

“Okay…” You said softly, not really sure he believed you. Damn Billy. Damn him to hell.

“Speaking of ‘his ways’--,” Rafael added with an uncomfortable clearing of his throat.

Oh God. What was he going to say?

“He...we…” Rafael tried to get the words out, he really didn’t want to say them out loud.

“He what, Rafael?” You pressed him.

“He said that I can’t see you again,” He closed his eyes as the words fell out of his mouth.

“What?” You nearly dropped the wine bottle all over your sheets.

“I can’t--” He started to repeat himself.

“No,” You cut him off. “No that is not--” There was no way in hell Billy was going to keep you from Rafael, not now.

“He said he would kill you, Y/N,” Rafael said very pensively.

“Well why hasn’t he done it already?!” You raised your voice, quickly looking to the door to make sure the girls hadn’t heard you. They hadn’t.

“He said your kids wouldn’t forgive him, and he really does love them,” He relayed what Lewis had told him.

“Ugh,” You gagged. “I can’t believe that son of a--”

“Y/N I believe him,” Rafael interjected.

“About what?”

“All of it,” He sighed. “I...I think he really does love your daughters,”

“...Really?”

“Yeah, he said that’s why he left. He wanted to scratch his...itch, somewhere else,”

“Oh my god…” You wanted to vomit thinking about all the “business trips” Billy used to take. If you only knew what kind of “business” he was in.

“...And I also think he’ll be good on his word of having you killed,”

“Having me killed?” You snorted. “By who?”

“Guys like him, they know plenty of...dark people,” He rubbed his eyes, he was getting a headache from all of this worrying. “He probably has people watching your house right now,”

“No, there’s no--” You looked out your window and down the street. Nothing looked out of place, but now you were paranoid. “...There’s no way, I would notice. I’m pretty sure,”

“Look we may be worried about nothing,” The idea just occurred to Rafael’s mind.

“Nothing? Really?” You laughed sarcastically.

“Well look, if Lewis thinks that you believed him over me, just...just keep him thinking that,” He hated the idea of you pretending to still...like, Lewis but he needed you safe.

“You want me to just go about my life like I don’t know my ex-husband is a psychopath?!” You hissed, really attempting to keep your voice down. The girls definitely could not hear any of this. Ever.

“Just for now,” Rafael assured you.

“Do you really think he’ll think I chose to believe him over you?” You twirled your hair nervously.

“Well, I mean you didn’t--” He paused. “You’ve never mentioned me before, maybe he’ll just think we were a...a fling or something,”

“I was introducing you to my kids!” You cried. “I think that’s a little more than a fling,”

“Okay fair point,” Rafael shook his head. “But, it would make perfect sense that you would just believe him at his word that I was the bad guy, right? He’s the father of your children, I’m just some guy you were having sex with for a few months,”

“No you aren’t,” You bit back tears hearing him drag your relationship like that. “You know you’re more than that,”

“I mean for the sake of the lie, amor,” He said with a somewhat endearing tone. He liked the fact that you made sure he knew that was a bunch of shit.

“I guess,” You shrugged, still not liking the idea of having to shit on what you and Rafael had. Even if it was just acting. But you had to, for your life. And for your children’s lives.

“Rafael, what if he suspects something? What if he kidnaps the girls?” Your mind was racing with worst case scenarios.

“Y/N I’m telling you, if you just play it cool, he’ll never think anything else about this,” Rafael tried to comfort you through the phone, but he knew it was somewhat fruitless without him being able to touch and hold you.

“....And I’m just supposed to live like this?” You felt tears in your voice. “Just...just never see you again? After I just told you I--”

“Just for now, mi vida,” He tried not to to start crying himself. He had to be the strong one here. “Just until I can-- figure something else out,”

“...I just want you here,” You whimpered.

Your whimpers pierced his heart like a million knives. All he wanted in that moment was to be next to you, holding you while you cried. Protecting you with his life. But he knew in reality, this was how he had to protect you. And your girls.

“I know…” He nodded his head, a few tears dropping down his face. “I just want to be there,”

“...I-I need to go, it’s late. The girls will be getting up for school soon,” You wiped tears from your own face, putting the wine bottle back in your side table.

“Alright, mi amor,” He said softly, not really wanting to hang up. He didn’t know when the next time he’d be able to hear your voice was going to be, and he wanted every second he had left with you.

“Don’t…” He bit back the sobs in his tone. “Don’t call me, or text me. Wait for me to contact you, okay?”

“What?” Your voice went up a register higher. Now you didn’t want to hang up with him, if he was going to ghost you like this. “No, Raf please, we haven’t--”

“I know,” He rubbed his eyes. “I know we’ve never not talked for even a day, I know. And it’s going to kill me, just know that. You’re my best friend, Y/N,”

“Really?” You blinked in surprise. “Even over Olivia?”

“...Don’t tell her,” He cry-laughed. He knew that would be the last time he laughed for a while.

“You’re my best friend too, Rafael,” You were really crying now. “Ever since I met you, you’ve made my life better. And now I’ve gone and fucked it--"

“Hey,” He stopped you with a stern tone. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong here, you understand me? That’s-- that’s not why I’m cutting you off, okay? I’m not punishing you, please know that,”

“...I know,” You replied in a soft voice, almost like a little girl scared of the dark.

“Okay, good,” He breathed in relief. He couldn’t live with himself if you blamed yourself for this mess.

“I promise-- I swear to you, as soon as I think it’s safe I will come straight to you,” He promised. “The very second,”

“Okay,” You nodded in a more controlled, mature tone. You had to be strong now, you didn’t want him to think you were a blubbering idiot without him. You had survived three long years on your own, you could do it again. You hoped.

“I love you, Y/N,” Rafael repeated it for the third time that day. You wished you could record it and play it over and over again, falling asleep to it.

“I love you too Rafael,” You sniffled.

“...Talk soon,” He said softly, then hung up before he could change his mind about the whole thing.

You both cried yourself to sleep that night.

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