#from (2022) fanfic

[forgetme-eternally-blissfully]

Cale isnt a cuddler.

He never had toys to fall asleep with, he couldn’t snuggle up to his parents after the accident and he certainly couldn’t with his uncle, and he was, most often, barely comfortable when he slept anyway.

So when the apocalypse arrived, he was the perfect person when it came to sleeping.

He didn’t move around, he didn’t snore, and he had already gotten used to falling asleep on shitty surfaces!

Jung Soo described it as eery, with the way that Rok Soo would get into a position to fall asleep and then he would stay that way for the rest of the night. His chest barely rose and fell, and on more than one occasion Soo Hyuk had woken him up because they were afraid he wasn’t breathing. Thankfully he has always been a light sleeper, so just moving around nearby would be enough to startle him awake.

They tried having a buddy system where they would sleep next to Rok Soo, “for his safety” but he would refuse and find some private place to cram himself into to sleep, scaring them even more. They tried to trick him multiple times, but Rok Soo never fell for it.

He allowed it one time.

It was a cold night, and Jung Soo was too tired from fighting monsters that they couldn’t get back to their company before nightfall.

Jung Soo had been barely coherent, grasping onto Rok Soo as he had been temporarily blinded by a poison grade 2 monster.

He refused to let go of Rok Soo, and so he gave in. He laid on the ground, curled up to Jung Soo, and pretended to be asleep.

He used his record ability intermittently throughout the entire night. It got cold enough to snow, and so Rok Soo had to be the fire for the time.

He never told Jung Soo he stayed up to keep him warm.

But that doesn’t matter.

Because now he’s Cale Henituse. He’s trash. He can sleep anywhere and at any time, but he demands a bed because he can. He demands comfort and warmth and safety. He always wants to fall asleep with a full stomach.

The others know this.

Except he can fall asleep easily when he hasn’t eaten. He can barely be counted as safe, ever, because of the White Star. He complains about the cold but they know he sometimes forgets to ask for a jacket.

The strangest story, however.

The oddest story?

Cale sleep walked.

Once.

Raon watched him get out of bed, and followed him to a nondescript corner of their newest house, where he laid down and stopped moving.

Raon woke him up immediately, and Cale was very disoriented and confused, but Raon didn’t care about the sleep walking. He cared about the stillness. Cale had looked as if he was hiding from a monster and could barely lift his chest to breathe softly.

Raon demanded to sleep next to Cale from then on, because he was worried Cale would get himself hurt.

Cale reluctantly gave in. He thinks about Soo Hyuk and Jung Soo, and thinks they’d be proud of him for opening up.

He casts that thought away.

(December 30, 2022)

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

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

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[milliesfishes]

she breaks something by accident in front of him and she’s trying to hold back tears as she apologizes profusely and tries to clean it up fast and his heart just hurts in his chest because he knows her head is telling her over and over in that moment that he’ll leave her for something so small

and of course before he can stop her she’s got her hand cut on broken glass and bloody and she’s just crying at that point and apologizing even more because she feels like a burden for getting hurt

oh I fear this one hit too close to home (edit: this did not start as this, but it became very long)

⋆౨ৎbilly when you break something⋆౨ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

The sound of the glass hitting the ground hit your ears before you realized what had happened. There was a brief moment in time when you were frozen, eyes wide as the centers of daisies. It had been completely innocent- you'd been laughing at something he said, sweeping your hand out in an exaggerated motion. And now the moment was broken, all innocence sapped out of the room.

Apologies flooded from your lips, and you dropped to your knees in an instant, reaching for the scattered shards. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

Across from you, Billy was standing up, reaching for you. "Baby-"

Your breath hitched on your tenth apology, and you took in a staggered breath, a few of the larger pieces of the glass gathered in a tiny pile in front of you. Heart pounding, the thoughts running through your mind were frantic, awfully firm and unyielding. He's gonna leave you. You made a mistake. He's gonna hate you now, you don't deserve him.

Stepping around the glass, Billy tried to get to you, and you kept your head down, hair falling around the sides of your face like a curtain. "I'll fix it...I'm sorry, I'll fix it..."

Billy knelt beside you, his hand on your arm, trying to meet your eyes. "Sweetheart, it's-"

A sharp gasp interrupted him. You'd reached for a piece of glass without thinking and now your hand was cut in the space below your thumb. Humiliation flooded your system, and your cheeks burned as hot tears began to cascade down your face, stinging like salt in a wound. Nononononono you made a mistake, you made a mistake-

Breaths uneven, you fell back against the leg of your chair, trying to steady yourself, holding your hand to your chest. Blood was dripping down your finger, and you drew your knees up, looking away from Billy and shutting your eyes as if that would make him disappear. You wanted to redo this moment, to fix everything you'd done.

His hand was gentle on your knee, and you opened your eyes at his touch. Billy's other palm was extended, and he murmured, "Lemme see."

Against your will, you gave him your hand, and he reached up to his neck, unraveling the bandana he wore there. The cloth was pressed to your hand soon after, and he held it there for a moment until he was satisfied, tying it across your knuckles.

The entire time he was tending to you, a bucket of guilt was poured over your head like rain in the springtime. You'd done a bad thing, you'd ruined your evening and here he was, being so kind and sweet just like always. A fresh wave of tears fell down your cheeks in rivers, and his eyes softened.

Billy slid his arm around your waist, tugging at you. "C'mere...c'mere, sweet girl. It's okay. I promise."

You moved into him like he was your gravity. Billy held you tight to his chest, leaning his cheek to the top of your head. "Shh, it's okay. It was just an accident, baby."

"I'm sorry-" you choked, voice strung with a high pitch. You were clinging to him like he was a lifeline, his scent and being engulfing you the way it always did. And the fact that he didn't even seem mad made you feel worse.

"You didn't do anything wrong. It's okay," he whispered, kissing the top of your head and letting his lips linger there. "Oh my love...my baby..." Billy shifted you onto his lap, away from the precarious shards of glass still scattered and hidden across the floor.

It was quiet for a minute, except for the sounds of Billy adjusting your legs across his so not a single portion of your skin was touching the ground. He held you for a stretch of time that you didn't bother to count.

When it had been a moment, he began to murmur little questions against your head, and you responded with a nod or a shake.

"Are you tired?" Shake.

He rubbed his thumb soothingly up and down your arm. "D'you wanna get in bed? Just to get cozy?" Nod.

Billy nudged his lips against your hairline, hugging you tight to him. You felt a flood of love and warmth in your chest, replacing the tautness of anxiety that occupied the space before. He isn't mad.

"You know I love you?" he whispered, the tenderness of his tone nearly bringing you to tears again. Billy tilted your chin up, searching your eyes.

In his face you saw something heavenly reflected back. Nobody would call your Billy pure, but his love was. It existed outside whatever wrongs he'd committed, whatever sins stood in need of repentance. The boundless emotion you saw in his eyes was too big to ever be set off course by something like an accident.

He used a hand to smooth your hair, tuck it behind your ear. "I love you so much." Cupping your cheek in his big palm, his lips twitched up a little sadly when you leaned into it. "Now you know?"

You reached up for his wrist, squeezing it. Nod.

[laylajeffany]

New Short Story for the US Thanksgiving!

The breakdown of a Nevermore bus on a six-hour drive back to Jericho occurs as boundaries have already been breaking down between Enid and Wednesday. 

When mechanics are off duty and no ride services are available so close to normie Thanksgiving, a local bed and breakfast owned by the Glicker family houses the outcasts until help can arrive. (It seems that this Joel had an encounter with a troubled outcast in the '90s, too...)

Enid and Wednesday are assigned a room together and naturally, there is only one bed for the girls. 

A fluffy three-shot about gratitude, the value of photographs, and a bus fire to bring us all together in these trying times. This is the sweetest, fluffiest thing I have written for these girls - I enjoyed writing it immensely and think that maybe sometimes I should back away from overly dramatic storytelling and just let them be soft, lol. Hope you enjoy!

[sunsetcdiscs]

Ahh I'm missing 2021/2022, specifically the fandom. The crazy lore analysis', the fanart, the fanfics, the excitement and everyone livetweeting/blogging lore streams, oh and did i mention the fanart?

Take me backkk

[vintagegirl01]

Plush Size

Marc Spector x fem! reader (Implied moon boys x fem! reader)

Summary: Missing the MK System, you decide to make a plush toy of Moon Knight for yourself, so that you have something to cuddle with when they are on missions for Khonshu. While this plush ends up being used for that particular reason, the moon boys are shocked to see that you are no longer as clingy to them as you once were. This leads them to become touch starved, resulting in them hiding the plush.

You miss them all very much. It has only been a day since they left but you miss Marc, Steven, and Jake very much.

Though they have been on missions longer than this most recent one they are currently on. Nevertheless, it’s true when they say absence makes the heart grow fonder.

As you look through Pinterest to look at sewing machine projects that you want to do. You see some pins on how to make dolls. This sparks the idea to create a doll in the form of your boyfriends’ Moon Knight persona that you could use to cuddle when they are gone. With this newfound inspiration, you get to work.

_________________________________________

3 Days Later…

Marc is currently fronting as he enters the key to your shared apartment. Though this mission was shorter, the desire to get home to you was what kept him going.

When he locks the front door, Marc notices the silence within the house. No tv nor music playing in the background.

Imagining the worst case scenario, Marc grabs his gun from his travel bag and begins walking around the house in preparation to fight to the death for you. He hears both Steven and Jake from the headspace, trying to reassure him that you are safe and more likely to fall asleep. Though he appreciates the reassurance from them both, Marc’s mind can’t help but wander to think the worst.

As he finally approaches the door to your shared bedroom, Marc finds you asleep on your bed. Although, instead of snuggling into his side of the bed like you normally would when he was gone, Marc is shocked to see you snuggling up with a plushie that looks nearly identical to what he looks like when he wears Khonshu’s ceremonial armor as Moon Knight. Marc smiles to himself as he returns to his regular clothes, beginning to strip to nothing but his boxers and crawls into the bed to get well earned rest.

________________________________________

In the coming weeks, Marc notices how often you cuddle with the plush version of himself and is a bit restless to say the least. Though Marc is happy you have something to remind you of himself when he is away, the feeling isn’t there when he begins to notice that you sometimes even hug the mini him when you both are lounging around together in your room or living room.

Despite Marc always being a bit closed off at the start of your relationship, you helped him open up. Once feeling as if he had to wear the world on his shoulders, that feeling slowly faded away when he was around you.

No longer receiving those cuddles as often as he was once used to, Marc begins to devise a plan. One that will ensure he gets your attention.

________________________________________

As you finish showering and changing into your pajamas, you exit the restroom and enter the bedroom.

When you walk to the bed, you notice that your Moon Knight plushie is no longer laying on the side where you normally sleep. In shock, you look under the bed to make sure it isn’t there. Noting it isn’t there, you move your pillows to see if they aren’t under the bed.

“Marc”! Have you seen mini you?”, you ask.

Marc comes in and says he hasn’t but agrees to help you find him (unbeknownst to you that he hid it).

________________________________________

Thirty minutes of you two looking and not having any luck. Defeated, you lay on your bed a bit upset.

Marc gets into bed next to you and wraps his arms around you. He is a little shocked by the fact that you are upset about this.

Curious to understand why that is, he asks: “Why are you upset about losing the mini me”?

You answer.“Because it’s something to remind me of you when we aren’t together. Also, I figured it would be a good substitute for when you don’t want to cuddle me as I know I can be a bit too much sometimes.”

Everything begins to make sense to him. Marc goes to your closet to get something. When he comes back out, you see that he’s holding your missing plushie.

“I’m sorry I hid this from you”, he says ashamed. “I missed your cuddles and thought that mini me was taking away your attention from me. Despite what you may think, I love our cuddle sessions. It’s because of you, I feel safe enough to be vulnerable. Can you forgive me, baby?”

The moment Marc finishes, he is shocked to see you get up from the bed and grab the plushy from him. You put the plush on your bed and pull him in for a hug.

“You know you can ask me for cuddles whenever”, you say.

Marc looks at you with puppy eyes, “Can we cuddle now?”.

You take his hand and lead him both to your bed. Both of you get settled in with Marc laying his head on your chest as you run your fingers through his curls. Staying this way until sleeps takes over.

[frango-maconheiro]

was trying to read some welcome home x reader, but like, i thought the fandom was at least semi alive on the writing side,,,, but it's like, dead dead. These damn porn spam bots took all over the wally darling x reader tag and the writers have pretty much flied away.

[sadtoru]

gojo satoru was 17 when he realized he loved you.

lets start from the beginning. you and gojo had been best friends since you were 7, being assigned the two (potentially?) strongest sorcerers at birth and all, it would take a lot not to meet each other before going to the same school in the future. you met at one of those stupid clan meetings where everyone brags about how rich they are blah blah. as the strongest, you two were basically allowed to do anything you want, no one could stop you anyways. but, you were still at a stage when you wanted your parents to be proud of you, so you followed them around for the meetings. somehow, your two clans forced got you to meet eachother. it didn't go so well as planned. you both glared at eachother, not believing one would be stronger than the other. hell you two almost got in a fight. after that, you did become friends after a few more meetings together. youd invite eachother to one anothers houses, play together, ect. just trying to be kids, yknow? sure you two were quite competitive, but you grew to become extremely close friends in about a year. little did you both know you'd grow up to rely on eachother so greatly.

but, what made him realize he might like you, was his best friend geto suguru.

suguru and satoru were sitting in class after it had ended, talking about who knows what, when you'd grabbed satorus attention for a second. "I'll see you at the cafe at 6, right?" you asked, to what couldve been anyone else in the room (suguru, shoko, satoru), but satoru immediately knew you were talking to him, because of your plans to check out that new cafe that everyone had been going crazy about. you two had a lot in common, and one of those similarities was your obsession with sweets. so you'd go on little trips dates together to get your daily dosage of sugar. he looked over in your direction to give you a salute, paired with a "yes ma'am!" you laughed and shook your head before leaving the classroom with shoko, heading to your dorm room. satoru subconsciously watched as you walked away with a smile on his face and a look in his eye, that didn't go unnoticed by suguru.

"you like her?" suguru asked him. satoru seemed to be lost in thought, since he didn't respond in any way. just kept staring st your unoccupied seat. suguru smirked and kicked him while his guard was down and he and his desk fell over together. "ouchhh. what was that for?!" he asked rubbing his head that hit the ground with a scowl, clearly annoyed. "you didn't answer me, whats got you so distracted huh?" satoru thought for a second. "that cafe, duh!" satoru rolled his eyes and left his seat on the floor, not caring to pick it up. suguru suddenly started laughing. satoru narrowed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance. "what are you laughing about?" satoru asked. "oh nothing. just about how clueless you are to your own feelings" suguru wiped away a fake tear and started walking out of the classroom, followed by a confused satoru. "haa?! whats that supposed to mean you dick head?" gojo sweared, still oblivious to the hints suguru laid out. "for someone so "strong" you really are dumb when it comes to common sense" suguru casually insulted him. an irk mark appeared on satorus face and he went to punch suguru, but he dodged it in time. "just tell me what you're laughing about, what, y'too scared?" satoru tried to tease him to get the truth out of suguru. to which suguru merely chuckled. "I think I'll keep it to myself for now" suguru grinned and ran ahead of satoru. normally satoru would chase him and force suguru to answer him but he simply rolled his eyes and went the other way this time. ooc, I know, but he was busy with his thoughts.

a few days later, you and satoru had already went on your cafe date trip. everything was somewhat normal until this day. satoru had forgotten about what happened with suguru a few days ago. but a bit late at night past curfew, he was so confused with himself, he decided to ask suguru for help.

"suguruu!!" satoru slammed sugurus door open. lucky him, he was still awake so the annoying actions of a certain gojo that has never knocked in his life didn't phase him too much. satoru closed the door behind him, somewhat quietly, and that's when suguru knew something was up. 'satoru never shuts doors, so that means he has something important to say. a favor probably' suguru perceived satorus actions. "what's up" suguru asked simply, hiding his curiosity in satorus out of character behavior.

"suguru. i kinda need a favor. I just need to ask you something.." satoru rubbed the back of his head nervously. to this suguru lifted one brow. "I can't promise I'll answer it" suguru replied, deeming suspicious activity. "it's not anything you wouldn't wanna answer okay? just.. it's really weird.. I don't know.. It's just that, whenever I'm around y/n my heart randomly starts beating really fast, I get a little sweaty and I feel all nervous, and then I end up saying stupid stuff and-" he sighed as he put a hand through his hair in frustration. "it's been happening for awhile time but it doesn't happen around anyone else.. d'you know-" Suguru started laughing at him before he could finish his sentence. it started with a small chuckle until he burst out in full on laughter as satoru furrowed his eyebrows and frowned at suguru. "what's so funny? I'm asking for real advice here!" he huffed and went to open the door again to leave, but suguru stopped him.

"satoru, I think you're in love with her"

[ch3rrybbie]

Need.

Randall Kirkland x fem!reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

———

Summary: You can’t seem to stay away from Randall, you’re yet to speak and he can’t stop staring. Why do you feel like you know him? What does he want? What do you need?

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, unprotected sex, oral (fem and male receiving), fingering, masturbation, smutty daydreams, y/n is stubborn asf.

Note from author: Hi there! Tysm to the love on the snippet I put out, I just randomly write it and decided to share it and I’m so glad I did lol. I hope this lives up to what yall were expecting and I hope you enjoy. I will deffo probs write more for Randall and other fandoms so drop requests( hopefully Ik them). Also this is basically my first ever fic and time writing smut so pls be nice and I hope it’s not too bad lmao😭😭😭

———

You’d been in town for four months now. And as much as a hell hole as it could and would prove itself to be you were thankful for the reprieve from the outside world. You’d come alone on a post college road trip looking for something anything as to what your life should be as to who you would be. Then came the crows the tree and the bogeymen in the woods.

———

Life soon became mundane, wake, work eat sleep repeat. You’d decided to live in town and not colony house,your double bed becoming a lifesaver through those long cold nights. Whilst your house didn’t have the charm of your dorm or home bedroom you tried your best. Forgoing fairy lights and band posters you supplemented with writing down song lyrics and crudely drawn flowers on the walls you were no artist but it was something to look at before the whispering and tapping got too loud and you reverted back to tucking your head under the covers, knowing all that kept you from them was a rock loosely strung on the door.But you spent your fair share of time at colony house helping rule the roost with Donna and she’d grown to love you fiercely like a daughter and it kept you going.

The day the bus arrived,the day he came,was almost alike any other. You woke at sunrise to help Tian Chen with opening the diner after Sara’s…retirement. You were wiping down the tables when you saw it through the windows. The bus had lazily rolled in and heaved to a stop right outside the diner and you saw him swing off its disgruntled steps. Tall, toned with a buzzed head and a face like thunder you mused to yourself. But there was something maybe lust or the delirious state the town caused, something tugged you to him. A feeling that you should go let him know you were there, an obligation.

You heaved the thought down, as unpleasant as swallowing bile.

———

Upon Kenny’s command you resigned yourself to ushering in the bus folk. Your eyes caught Donna’s and with it you passed a sympathetic glare you hoped she understood its messaging-“I’m sorry you have to go this again but don’t be too much of a bitch with them”.

Most of them were heartwarmingly lovely to a point your heart broke, they didn’t know the fate that had befallen them.The pain and suffering they were yet to face. You remembered exactly how each and every second felt and resorted to flittering around helping how you could, making sure their steaming cups of herbal tea were always brimming. As you were filling an old lady’s second cup you heard a gunshot go off.

Your world span. Ears ringing you dropped the cup it’s shatter giving music to your pounding steps as you burst out the diner.

“Donna?!” you yelled praying she’d be able to answer.

“I’m fine sweetie but hold the door” she casually threw back her eyes trained on someone, gun pushed into their chest.

Burning heat arose as he turned his head, his furrowed brows lifting as soon as he saw you a confused look replacing his disgruntled one. He cocked an eyebrow, as if to say you know this crazy bitch??? You ignored him and felt envy flush over you as you watched Ellis and Fatima run off hand in hand after escaping bus passengers.

You wondered if you’d ever have someone that would run with you into danger without a second thought.

You begrudgingly followed Donna’s request ushering the last of the bus strangers into the diner hoping the simulated warmth would numb the fear of the tapping and whispering yet to come.

Donna kept him for last seemingly keeping a close eye on him gun nudging him periodically. Time seemed to slow the closer he got, his stature seemed to exaggerate with his hands strung loosely in the air, a sarcastic surrender. He was surprisingly stocky, muscles taught as his agitation grew stronger.

Your eyes once again locked and your breath caught in your throat. A spark lit within your stomach and spread all throughout you. He had a similar lust struck gaze yet his eyes never left yours,never once walked across your body.

You snapped your head away.

Donna incredulously looked between the two of you and shoved him into the diner. You dared not to turn and look for him in the sea of strangers. And yet that did nothing to quell you swelling desire, you felt it cresting, waiting to come crashing down.

It was going to be a long night.

———

As soon as the sun streaked through the windows you legged it out of there citing a lack of sleep. Which was true you felt his gaze on you the whole night and you hadn’t looked once.

———

It’d been a few days since you’d had your weird eye fuck with the stranger from the bus. Randall, as you’d come to find out and you’d vowed to push aside all thoughts of him and refusing to even use his name although your only danger of using it was at night when your convictions stuttered and were only quelled by toe curling thoughts of him.

Issue was he did anything but ignore you. He was everywhere.

He was at colony house arguing with Donna. He was atop the bus staring down all who dare walk past. Hell he was even occasionally scoffing his face in the diner. And yet you avoided him, not a single word uttered yet he had your heart hitching.

His staring persisted despite your avoidance. It seemed to only make him hungrier to see you.

You found yourself slipping into thoughts of what he smelt, tasted and fucked like.

Thoughts. That was all you could have.

No more.

———

You were trudging up to colony house after a late night drinking with Jade, in summary you lost your bet of out drinking him and he soon was let in on your little secret. But you trusted him. The only person you could never tell was looking at you a face like thunder. Your confusion clouded your perception and failed to see Randall him marching away from Donna.

Your breath caught in your throat as he got closer, you felt exposed. It was a balmy spring day so you’d sported jeans and a tank top thinking nothing of it. He finally let his eyes slip down your body, staring greedily, seemingly committing it to memory.

You’d reprimand him if you weren’t doing the same.

He wore a white tank with an open t shirt strung on top, his jeans tight in all the right places. You were about to look at his arms again before the muscle in his jaw clenched harder and he barrelled on.

Donna loomed at the top of the porch steps a face like thunder. And yet she didn’t care to rant about the backend of the altercation you saw.

Shit.

“You greenhouse now” she spat.

Fuck.

She shut the door behind the two of you with a slam so you opted to give your now peace offering, “Look here’s the bulb I told you about I think it’s gonna look great with the-“.

“Honey, we all have needs and wants I understand that but HIM?!” she flung out incredulously hands on hips. With your face a mixture of horror and confusion she continued “I saw the way you two looked at each other that first day at the diner and I’m sure you’ve done more than look since, hell what was that just now?!”

God you wished.

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Donna nothings happened, and as far as I’m concerned nothing will”

Her shoulders sagged and she sighed, “Good , you deserve someone better than him”

You cringed at that. Was he that bad?

“Now show me my beautiful new tulip bulb” she proclaimed.

———

Donna’s comment had been bouncing around your head for days alongside seeing less of Randall him, tension was building.

Yesterday you spied him working on a truck and couldn’t help but walk closer. He Sported the same white tank that exposed this thick corded arms. He’d grunted as he’d rolled himself under the truck. Jeans straining to contain him, legs spread. Arms straining with force. You imagined what it’d be like to even sit on his lap clothed, how good you’d feel.

How good you could make him feel.

You’d pictured him taking you pressed against the hood of the truck. Skirt flipped up, exposed for all to see. Tits bare and pebbling against the cold harsh metal. He’d stroke you first you were sure, then he’d fuck his thick cock into you. Uniting pain and pleasure,he’d make you taste yourself on his thick calloused fingers as he took you for all to see.

The day dream vanished as you watched a girl from colony house , Lola? Lila?, walk up to him and hand him water as he rolled out from under the truck.

Your heart dropped and an amassing wave of disappointment came over you. Albeit foolishly , you’d thought his attention had been solely concentrated on you and not whoever would reciprocate it.

You turned walked home before he could see you.

That night you couldn’t help but call his name as you came to the thought of him working on his truck.

———

The last place you could think of being alone was the woods, I mean your bedroom was the other but your thoughts couldn’t be controlled there as you’d realised last night.

After seeing him with the girl from colony house your conviction became stronger. And you decided to strengthen it alone in the woods the last thing you needed was to see him.

You started your descent into the peace, the trees were lush with greenery and swayed welcomingly. It was a thick, sweaty day. Your sundress swung as you walked providing the cool breeze you needed.How funny, you were trapped in a hellish town full of monsters human and other and yet it was so beautiful. Flowers were starting to sprout up through the dense leaves of the forest floor and you couldn’t help but be entranced. The less funny part was who your brain was obsessed with happened to be who you had decided was the resident fuck boy.

“Hey”

Speak of the devil.

Your heart pounded in your chest knowing the monsters wouldn’t be so polite. Your eyes were snatched up from the forest floor to all six foot of him lazily leaning across a tree. Same tank top and jeans as your daydream. He must be on break from working on his truck.

FUCKKKKKKKKKKKK. He looks good.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” He inquired.

You awkwardly shuffled and looked around.

“Sorry forgot everything is secret here, you smoke?” He asked coolly

Taken by surprise you chuckled, “uhhhh yeah before, well you know” you gestured around you.

He hummed cigarette already between his teeth.in one slick motion he’d lit it and started steadily approaching you taking a drag. He lazily held it to you.

You leant forward not breaking eye contact as hou took a drag, cigarette still between his fingers. You could’ve sworn he swallowed harshly, but the moment was cut short as you spluttered and coughed.

It’d been awhile since you’d last smoked.

He laughed heartily and his hand slipped to your back stroking and patting till your coughing seized. His hand awkwardly retracted and you longed for its warmth to grace you again. He attempted to strike up a conversation again before seeming to change his mind, lips pressing back together.

They looked soft.

He had always seemed so sure of himself how strange you mused to yourself.

“I’ve seen you staring at me” you burst out, regretting it as soon as it fled you lips. So much for secrecy.

He chuckled caught aback then grew somewhat serious taking another drag, “You like it?”

“No” you lied through your teeth

“Really?” He smirked.

He paused, “It’s not like I haven’t seen you looking back sweetheart”

He looked satisfied with his own reply slowly walking back shrugging and once again leaning against the tree.

He smiled a boyishly handsome grin,took a longer drag taking in your shocked face.

SWEETHEART?! Really, he truly was a fuck boy then huh.

You once again lost control of you mouth, “I don’t think your colony house girlfriend would be too happy about you calling me sweetheart” you spat.

He coughs out smoke unable to stop himself from laughing,“ Who?” he laughs.

You refuse to let his facade get to you, not helping him with the answer.

His confusion blends back into another stupid smirk, “Oh, Laine?” He chuckles, eyes narrowing to gauge your reaction.

Laine? You think to yourself, what a stupid name. Lame Laine. EW! no you refuse to fight some random girl over him. He didn’t belong to you.

As much as you wanted him to.

Your eyes flicked back to his and something seemed to cross his face. His eyes darkened.

He knew. He knew you wanted him.

He slowly approached.

“You still want some?”, he asked. Gesturing to the cigarette.

He read your apprehension and said something that was dizzying to you.

“I could shotgun you” he she shrugged eyes not leaving yours. Unable to speak you nodded… a little too enthusiastically and he smirked. You could’ve sworn his eyes darkened.

He tilts your head up softly but as firm as needed to align your lips to his, all that separated you was air. With bated breath loosening unwillingly out your mouth in a sigh, your were lips parted in anticipation. Something he seemed to be unable to mock his face sporting the same intense stare as if he could unfurl your lips and drive you over the edge of what you weren’t sure madness pleasure?. Slowly, softly he blew the smoke into your mouth and you felt so intensely in need of him that it didn’t feel like breathing him in, it simply felt like breathing whole for the first time. It felt as natural as anything being this close needing him there needing him anywhere on you or near you. His fingers felt nice but the searing want shared silently was a feeling like no other. It radiated beyond magnetism. Staring at each other no longer held challenge but you were looking, truly seeing each other for the first time beyond the facade beyond this bodies you didn’t need to scratch the itch of knowing the conclude something. You’d know him before.

You breathed in the smoke he blew, eyes not breaking from his. His pupils were blown and it was your time to smirk. If you didn’t know before you knew now.

He wanted you too.

You blew out the smoke as slowly as you could. His eyes fixated on your lips.

He looked entranced.

His hand still cupped your jaw, his thumb coming up to glide across your lower lip. Smoke gone, you pulled his thumb into your mouth and sucked. His eyes once again met yours. “Fuck” he breathed out.

It was your turn to tease him. You spied the cigarette. It’s sweet red cherry still burning, you decided whatever was about to happen was going to burn like that.

Fast and hot.

Fuck it you thought.

You took it from his fingers, he was still entranced.

You breathed it in slowly and pushed on your toes to meet his face. Your tits brushed his chest. Your noses skimmed. His hands dropped to grip your hips and they bunched up the material of your dress. Surprisingly slowly but surely your lips softly bumped and grazed each other and you blew out the smoke. He didn’t breathed it in, so puzzled you stayed like that eyes locked till neither of you could bear it any longer.

He snapped out of the trance.

Your lips crashed together desire encompassing you heat moving lower. He smelt like pine and sea air and sweat and smoke and oil.

He tasted salty. His lips were soft.

It was almost all too delicious.

Almost.

You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as his hand smoothed up your back to hold your head and pull you in further. He grabbed your thighs and pulled you up easily. He grinned into you as the kisses grew hot and sloppy.

Your back hit a tree and the friction between you started to give you much needed release. He started pushing his hardening crotch into yours. He broke the kiss, “I knew you wanted me” he leered. “Shut up” you groaned and seized his lips back to yours.

His lips start to wander sucking your neck and finding the spot that made you push out a lengthened moan, legs attempting to pull him in further.

“Fuck you needed this almost as much as me huh baby” he croons as his hand slithers from your waist. It skims up your stomach leaving goosebumps in its wake. It reaches your tit feeling its weight even inside your bra. His hand snakes in and is surprisingly cold, you hiss. “Awe is it cold baby” he mocks as he smooths his thumb over your pebbling nipple, his eyes flick to yours. “Huh baby?”, he pinches and rolls your nipple to elicit an answer. “Fuck yes” you hiss, your hips jerking even further into his.

You pull his face back to yours with both hands, teeth clashing wantonly as you kiss him viciously. He moans breathlessly , gasping and moaning as your hand slips to press against the outline of his hard cock. It’s as big as you thought.

“Tell me what you need baby” he begs, his grip on your hip tightening. You refuse to answer, smirking. He grabs your hand from his crotch and pushes his bulge into your underwear covered crotch. You throw your head back against the trunk and your moans come out as hums through your clamped lips. “Come on baby tell me what you need”.

A vision of you knelt before him flashed into you mind. And you grew wet. Going down on someone sometimes felt submissive, degrading even. But with him the idea of teasing and controlling him whilst knelt before him. You needed it.

You pushed him away and he lowered you to your feet looking sheepish.

“I’m sorry did I do something that-”

You cut him off by sinking to your knees and open palm sliding down his front and down his clothed thighs. You applied more pressure the closer to his crotch you got.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, “Is this okay baby?” You crooned.

“Yes” he breathed out.

You took your time.

Unbuckling his belt and sliding it out, you kissed the outline of his cock in his jeans before unzipping and sliding them down. You made quick work of his boxers and there he was.

As big as you thought, bigger even. The head of his cock was burning red and seeping with precum.

Oh he was aching for you.

How many nights had he fisted his cock to images of you?

You trace a finger over the seeping head and he hisses. You smirk, “is that sensitive baby?”. You do it again and he moans long and deep. You trace a finger down the thick veins and caress his balls and he rewards you with a needy “please baby”.

You lean forward on your knees and kiss the tip. Kiss the shaft and lick your way down to his aching balls. You return you attention to the seeping head continuing to kiss is gently allowing the kisses to get sloppier. His hips jerk towards you and you indulge him. His burning tip slips into your mouth and you lower it till your nose brushes against his lower stomach. You keep your rhythm soft and slow and he melts into you. His moans must be reaching the town by now and you hoped that colony house girl heard. You started to increase your suction and go faster and he pulls you off him. You release him with a lavicious pop.

He tucks himself back into his jeans and you stand there unsure until he surges down tasting himself on you. He backs you up against a tree and drops onto a knee. Both of his hands snake up your legs lifting your dress and stroking your wet heat over your panties. He kisses your thighs and licks a thick wet stripe over your clothed clit. He tugs your pants down maintaining eye contact as he spits onto your bare gleaming pussy. He kisses you clit achingly soft and begins to lick and kiss building your already approaching orgasm. You begin to gyrate against his now gleaming face. His now hot calloused hand rubs your clit and he pulls away and just stares at you. His confidence vanquished, his face desperate to watch you come. He dives back and guides two finger into your heat and curls them perfectly. Your loud breathing transforms into moans uncaring of who might hear. He hums into your aching pussy seemingly encouraging you. White hot heat encases you everything goes numb as you come around his knuckle deep fingers, pussy spasming. He watches your face contort in pleasure and continues his ministrations carrying you through.

Your breathing stills and he rises lifting his fingers to your lips, letting them sink into your awaiting mouth. You plead to be able the touch him and he smiles and kisses you full of need. “Please touch me again baby” he moans wantonly. You needed to see him come. Your hands slid down his front and once again released him. You stroked him firmly, the head of his cock an even brighter red and was pouring pre come. He was close. Your lips lunged for his and you tugged his cock harder. His moans became louder, breathing harsher as he spurted hot and harsh against your bare stomach and pussy. Your hand was covered and his face was serene. This was way more delicious than a daydream.

———

You were both bashful as you helped each other dress. Cheeks flushing as he pulled up your panties and gently tugged your dress down, you’d stopped him from wiping his come away and his confidence sprouted back. “You want something to remember this by?” He jested. “You wish” you spat back, you both knew what he said held truth.

The bell sounded in the distance.

“Come on I’ll walk you back”, he tugged your hand putting you in front of him and nudged you towards the edge of the forest. Was it to put a barrier between you and those things? No, you wouldn’t delude yourself into thinking he cared. If he cared he’d of asked you out or something along those lines. Right?

You made it back in time. “This is me” you awkwardly shrugged. You both waited for the other to speak.

You broke the silence.

“Randall, look you don’t owe me anything I get it this was nothing. I won’t tell Laine and you can go back to persuing her”.

“Y/N, me and Laine are-“ he started

You cut him off. You couldn’t bare to hear it.

“I just needed a release from whatever weird tension we had, I get it seriously no need to explain”

He looked stunned and started to frown. But he quickly masked it with a careless gaze.

Your eyes narrowed, “thanks for walking me back I guess”

“Yeah yeah , anytime”

He turned to abruptly leave.

You wanted him to stay, your bed would bed would be so warm with him. The thought made your heart skip.

“Randall wait!”

He turned

“Get home safe”, you deflated as you were unable to ask him to stay. As if he’d want to.

His swagger returned, “Don’t worry about me too much sweetheart” he smirked.

He laughed at you rolling your eyes as he strolled away.

———

Why did him walking away hurt so much? Why did you feel like you knew him?

“Fuckkkkk”, you hissed as you slid down your door. Had you fucked him in college? No,no surely not you’d shamefully remembered every drunken fight and embarrassingly bad one night stand. Then how could you possibly know him? You didn’t know but it was almost certain he remembered and the one whiteclaw too many was the culprit as to your forgetting. How could you forget a connection like that it almost felt cosmic. God now you really sounded like a colony house hippy dippy idiot.

[halfadoginatank]

LIGHT A FIRE

Soap’s blood is extremely hot. Temperature-wise, but there's also something strange in it. He's nine when he has an open cut on his finger and doesn't pay attention to where his finger is, a drop of blood into the toaster, and. Boom.

So it functions more like a powerful conduit. When he's in his teens and his friends get their hands on some fireworks he finds out that opening one and adding some of his blood makes the explosion at least ten times more intense.

After that, Soap can admit he got a little obsessed. But his mother saw him reading and spending time in the shed a few meters away from the house and figured she didn't need to worry, as long as he was out of sight.

Soap doesn't exactly think about it too hard when he joins the military. His mother is, distant lately. Emptier, it was fun getting to do whatever he wanted when he was little with few expectations. It's not fun when he burns part of the shed he'd been staying in more frequently and his mother barely gives him a second glance.

He forged his mother's signature on the papers and didn't tell her where he was going. Just that he is. Then he spends two years trying not to look back.

They test his blood during physicals. He's tense the whole time, what if they put it in a machine and the shaking just makes it explode? Sure, it only ever exploded when mixed with extreme heat, and even then it wouldn't be too bad if there wasn't anything mixed with it.

It's not entirely unheard of for some humans to be weird. It's less like superpowers and more like a fancy mutation. Just, someone's parts may be different than a normal person's. The tests came back, and nothing exploded but there were odd chemicals in it. It's not undocumented by any means but they note it's a particularly weird thing to have in his blood and he can't exactly donate it, but it's not hurting him, and other than that he's O positive. They ask him if he's taking anything for his ADHD, and he tells them he doesnt need it, and then they let him leave.

His squadron notes the FNG is particularly good with explosives. He excels in it, he jokes that it's in his blood and no one else gets it. His uncanny ability to focus so hard on things lends itself well to sniping when he's properly trained, he likes that too. Lets himself learn more about the gun he uses, and what scopes are best, and although his math skills are lacking, he learns everything he needs to make the shot.

In year three he signs up for the S.A.S. He doesn't have his hopes up, but despite that he gets it. They have him on as a demolitions specialist. It's never made him happier, he gets access to a lot more than he had at his old base. More chemicals, he does his tests when he's allowed to, and doesn't spend much time as a private.

Then las almas. He considers that one of the most impressive things he's done explosion-wise. He blew up a tank and set charges expertly, using the blood from his scraped hands to cover the fuses and slather it on the C4. Every explosion was just as it always is, satisfying. Feels like the anticipation that builds is the perfect way to gather his anxieties, watching something go, those few seconds of nothingness, no sound just light. Then he watches the flames. Like he burnt that anxiety, burnt the anticipation. He's always loved explosions, but he's loved fire longer.

There is something else notable about Las Almas though. The first day he and the Marines set foot on the LZ he sees the tall man in a skull mask, having been told he’s his CO, and goes to talk to him. When he gets in range, just a few feet away. He shivers, it's less a shiver of cold and more like one of relaxation. The air around Ghost is cold, a chill that balances just how hot he really runs. When they ride in the back seat of Alejandro's car Soap tries to press himself closer to the man without Ghost noticing, it's just too comfortable. To finally not feel like he’s on fire.

Soap has been living comfortably ever since, he stays in Ghost's personal space, and he never seems to mind. somewhere in his head, he hopes his own heat brings the lieutenant some peace.

[thetravelingtyper]

Letters From Nowhere - 2 (CBF! Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley)

Finally at home, you spend some time with Johnny before dinner...

Warnings: FLUFF

Part 1, Part 3, Masterlist

Comradery - mutual trust and friendship among people who spend a lot of time together.

Your laughter lights the room, taking the nervousness away with it as you finally settle back into your tired body, and soon a yawn breaks up the laughter. Johnny smiles, looking at Simon as he rejoins your space, wooden bear in hand.

“Thinking it's nap time, we’ve got a few hours until dinner.”

The stoic man just nods,

“Back to work then.”

Johnny's hand at your waist moves out and grasps Simon's shoulder.

“Thank you Simon.”

It's heartfelt and something in Simon’s eyes shines, contentment or satisfaction you think. 

“O’ course Johnny.”

Simon then goes for the suitcases but Johnny mentions he’ll grab them.

“See you later.”

You both murmur a thank you and the larger man nods before heading down the stairs and out the door, presumably to return to his lumber. You both stand for a moment before you look to Johnny,

“He’s a good man.”

“Aye he is. Saved my life too many times to count.”

You nod before yawning again. Johnny chuckles and releases your hand to step over and grab your stuff.

“Come on Hen.”

You follow him, crossing the bridge to the other hallway. You move around him to open the door to your old room. A window draws in light in the room, cream walls lighting the way. In a corner is a queen bed and the rest of the walls are clear. You had taken most of your stuff with you when you left. What did remain was in boxes in another corner and your old desk. Stepping inside, you approach it and run a hand over the nicked and dented wood while sighing. You hear Johnny enter and set your suitcase against the wall. He sets your backpack next to your bed. 

You look at him.

“Where are you staying Johnny?”

“I’ve been bunking with Simon at Elizabeth’s while recovering but your parents also have me set up in the guest room as well. When I figured you were coming I started staying here to work on the house and the portrait.”

You nod to him in understanding. You move to your suitcase and kneel down to rummage through it, pulling out a more comfortable change of clothes. Johnny, seeing this mentions,

“I’ll go shower, I can collect you for dinner if you want to just be-”

You interject,

“Will you stick around Johnny, please ?”

He grins, 

“Of course.”

With that he exits to the guest room. You hear him down the hall before the door to the guest room closes.

Finally alone you take a deep breath before exhaling and running a hand through your hair.

You were finally home. 

With that thought you start to unpack. Tucking clothes into the dresser you are humored to find some knit cardigans, expertly cleaned and stored to prevent runs and pests from getting to them. You pull one out,  dark green with embossed lavender on it. There then is a bloom of warmth in your chest and you hug the garment to you for comfort. They were from Rachel when she had her craft phase. You couldn't stand to take them with you so you packed them away for when you could face them again. 

Setting it on the bed you pull out the others, a pastel and solid mix of pretty colors. Some captured moments of you together in a way. The deep blue of the ocean with the shadow of a ship in the sky, or whales in a pod floating by. They all provided a sense of home. As you finish setting your clothes away there is a knock at the door. 

You call a soft “come in” and Johnny enters. He is in a pair of sweats but wears no shirt. Without the bandages you can see the extent of the bruising and the scars that litter his toned abdomen. He approaches you, slowing down when he sees the cardigans. Your eyes gaze over his form, brows knitting together in concern when you notice a few entry wounds and the scar partially hidden by his hair. Without thinking about it you approach him and reach a hand up, brushing back his damp hair to examine the scar. There are signs of recent stitches but the wound has mostly healed.

His eyes trace your movement before returning to yours. When your fingertips finally brush his skin he sighs at the tender touch.

“Does it hurt anymore?”

“Not much, more just a dull throbbing. The nightmares are the worst things that happen at this point.”

You nod, the nightmares died down a year into your move, once the therapy really got going you made a sort of peace with yourself. 

You look at him for a moment, taking in the quiet with appreciation before giving a large yawn.

Johnny grins and you shake your head at him fondly before clearing the carangins to one corner of the bed and pulling back the covers. 

“Time for a nap then?” He goes for the door but you grab his arm gently and mention,

“Stay.”

His heart pounds in his chest, and for the first time in a long time, you see a light pink dust on his cheeks. He allows you to get into the bed first, laying down before he follows. The sheets are soft with a fluffy comforter that you pull over you.

On his back Johnny freezes, this wasn’t the first time you both had shared a bed. Growing up you were afraid of the dark and would often tuck into Johnny’s side as lightning would flash outside your window. He feels you shift before your hand seeks him and you roll yourself over to face him. When you pull lightly he does the same to face you. 

“What is it?” It's spoken slowly followed by a breathy exhale of your name when you shuffle into his space. His arms come around you then. There is a bubble of pride in him when you tuck your forehead into his chest. His hand begins to run through your hair and you slowly drift into a dreamless sleep. 

Hours pass peacefully until your phone buzzes at 6 pm. The dull tone on the wooden side table wakes Johnny who finds himself entangled with you. Your arms have wound themselves around him and your legs are entwined. He chuckled when you frowned in your sleep at his movement. Leaning forward he presses a kiss to your forehead and you squirm, with amusement dancing in his eyes, Johnny runs gentle hands along your back before trailing one under your right shoulder blade. 

After a few moments you jolt awake, arm moving to swat the man but he easily catches your hand. He continues the motion before you start giggling at the ticklish feeling. You wiggle in his grasp before dodging his hands and rolling onto your back, Johnny laughs before rolling as well, laying on his side to watch you. 

Your phone ringing again finally alerts you and you ask Johnny to pass you it, after which you pick up the phone. 

You answer with a hello and a male voice comes through the line.

“Did you land safely? You didn’t text me hun.”

You smile at his concern, going to reply when a hand comes around you. You look over to find Johnny close and his eyes focused. You run your hand over his and reply,

“I made it just fine, Buck.”

On the other end a dark haired man shuffles with papers behind a desk. He smiles into the phone,

“Remember to keep me updated.”

You hear him knock into something when a curse drops on the line and you laugh. The man smiles and you hear him setting his globe back on the desk. 

“Makin’ a mess?”

He is quick to quip back,

“Without you around? Always. I sent you some information regarding the sci fi book club we’re hosting. We need to go to dinner when you come home Darling.”

 Johnny frowns at the term of endearment he moves closer and tucks his head into your neck. You look down at him, a small smile spreading on your face.

“Will do Sarge. Have a good day.”

“Likewise” and with that you hang up the phone as Johnny’s arms wrap around you. You run your hand up the plains of his back.

“Sergeant?”

His voice is muffled in your neck,

“He served before joining the library a few years ago. He’s a sweet man. When he first joined I showed him around town before we went out a few times-”

That has Johnny perking up, the man lifts off to lean over you.

“You seeing him, Hen?” His voice comes out in a low rumble. 

You look up at him as the evening sunlight filters in golden orange rays through the blinds, and the light dances on his skin. You notice his muscles then, trained from years of combat. You watch his eyes focus and you raise a hand from underneath him to his chest. His muscles flex and he takes in a breath,

“No Johnny, we are just friends.”

The relief that floods his face is palpable and he droops. 

“Jealous Johnny?”

 He looks at you intently before dipping down, eyes moving to your lips.

“With you? Always.” 

His accent thickens at always and your heartbeat picks up as he hovers over you. Your eyes move to his lips and you find yourself wondering…

Your breath catches as he lowers his face towards your lips,

“Johnny-” It comes out in a whisper as your hands cup his face.

“Is this ok?” 

“Yes.” 

He grins then before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. His lips are smooth and he shifts his weight, pressing lightly against you but keeping his weight off of you. One of your hands travels up to his hair and you feel him smile into your lips. He pulls away first before leaning back to sit on his knees next to you. You move up to lean against your headboard. Johnny’s hand moves to your calf before tracing up your leg. 

“I’ve been meaning to do that for years.” 

He traces circles into your knee, his hand engulfing your knee.

You soften then, leaning your head back to stare at the ceiling and smile when you see the glow-in-the-dark stars from ages ago you, Johnny, and Rachel put up. There were also shapes of the planets assembled in a mock recreation of the Milky Way. You reach a hand up to trace a crafted constellation of a bumblebee.

Seeing this Johnny looks up and smiles.

“What time is Elizabeth thinking about for dinner?”

You ask it looking down from your childhood sky, the fluttering images of bees and dragonflies swarming peacefully out of your vision. Johnny looks at you before pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Simon I think will be in by 7, he wanted to finish the raised beds.”

You perk up at the mention of the gardens, an eager smile on your face. Johnny grins and moves out of bed.

“Come on then Hen, we’ll go see how he’s doin’.”

You nod before moving to get out of bed, stepping past Johnny to reach for some more presentable attire before Johnny waves you off.

“Ye look fine, you’re home anyway.”

You look back to the cardigans and pull the whale one on to fight the chill of the October air. You were excited to be home at this time of year for halloween in two weeks. The cardigan still fits you perfectly, just a tab bit oversized with sleeves that could cover your fingertips. You sigh happily at the feeling of the soft wool. When your eyes return to Johnny you find him watching you with a look on his face.

It is something old in his eyes and you feel the weight of it on your heart. Your eyes widen as he observes, and you want to look away but fight yourself with the gathered courage of the kiss. He must see the shift in you because the intensity softens to a honey sweet gaze. His heart is on his sleeves as he steps forward, longing at his fingertips when he reaches out to touch your cheek. He had dreamed of your return for many years, kept busy with the fieldwork, the roar of combat would shift to your laughter in his dreams.

His thoughts trail off, memories of you plucked from the fields of his mind and bundled to stand right in front of him. But, like any wildflower, you’ve grown into your own. A vibrant being to behold. 

And here you were. 

“I’m here Johnny.”

The four syllables are almost sung to his ears, the smile pulling your voice up with it. 

He snaps to that moment when you take his hand and squeeze it and he blushes, the cocky confidence washed away to the man who has loved you from the beginning. He doesn’t say it but you can feel it, the yearning, the fight with himself between wanting to follow and letting you go. You feel his hand shake a little, a miniscule tremor as his eyes drop you murmur,

“Oh Johnny.”

 “Lass-” His voice is quiet,

You look at him and reach your other hand to pull him to your chest. He curls into your neck, his hair dry and fluffed up before you sweep it back while shushing him. His arms encircle you. The man in your arms crumbles down the last wall around your heart.

Memories flash then, Johnny moving here when he was 7, bullies and you and Rachel adopting him on the playground one fine spring day. Clambering into the tree house by the creek only to play. The tears that flowed when his parents moved back to Scotland, then the subsequent passing of his grandparents in his teens. Helping him to move in with Elizabeth and Rachel, becoming found siblings with her. Losing Rachel, Johnny had to be strong for you and Elizbeth but losing you broke something inside him. You both always skirted around each other but nothing ever came to fruition-

Perhaps, until now. 

He looks back up to you with tear simmered eyes. You run your fingers through his hair. Adjusting the waves like you would always fuss about. He seems to calm then before a serious glint dissolves the tears. He stands up straight in your arms before drawing you to him and kissing you intently. While the other kiss was a curious exploration this was full of intent, some quiet desperation seeping out as he turns to kiss you deeper. He pulls you flush to him by the small of your back and your hand falls to his arms. He parts from you with dilated pupils, the black of his eyes eclipsing the ocean. 

You both look at each other, a little shocked before Johnny dips to your neck with a chuckle. His nose ghosts your neck and you feel your face flush when he skims the base of your neck with his lips. His voice is a rumble, 

“Can’t let you go can I?” 

He feels you hum, vibrations, and a jumping pulse under his lips. You sigh in contentment, his hand coming to the back of your neck to cradle your head as he finally presses a kiss there.

“Might need to take Buck up on dinner then-”

The joke gets you a nip to the neck and you swat Johnny for that.  

“Johnny!”

He just laughs, a deep resounding sound before he pulls away from you. His eyes are half lidden and he leans his forehead against yours sweetly. 

“We better get moving before Simon comes looking for us.” You raise a brow when Johnny shrugs, an easy grin on his face,

“Do we have to?”

You gently smack his arm before attempting to untangle yourself from him. Despite your effort he doesn't budge. 

“Let me take you out.”

Your heart skips a beat,

“Sure, but we gotta go.”

With the confirmation he presses a swift kiss to the side of your lips and  lets you go with a grin, elation bubbling in his chest as he heads out of the room to change.

“Stubborn Scot” It's a fond mumble while you go to prepare yourself for dinner.

-

The fall chill gathers as Johnny opens the front door. He pulled on an old service shirt with a jacket. He steps out into the cold and you follow turning to lock the door before tucking your keys into your bag. You shoulder your bag before taking the first steps before a hand takes yours and intertwines your fingers. Johnny then pulls you against his larger form to block out the cold and you both head across the street to meet Simon.

Stepping over the curb you enter Elizabeth's wide yard before crossing through the gate and into the back. Behind the fence, a dense forest looms beaconing your inner child. You hear the sound of moving wood and look to find quite the sight. 

In 55 degree weather, Simon works only in jeans and boots. Your eyes widen at the extensive scarring that litter his taunt torso. You hear Johnny call out to him, squeezing your hand before releasing you to approach him. You follow a few steps behind as their quiet murmurs blend into the wind. You look up to Simon and find his eyes on you intently, you freeze upon seeing his unmasked face for the first time.

 As Johnny speaks, a smile curling on his face, his hand comes to Simon's shoulder as the other man nods. Dark eyes regard you and you watch Johnny carefully as confusion swirls in your form, but before you can doubt yourself, Simon smiles and your breath catches in your throat as his eyes soften at you. You sense then it is a rare sight to see, and you find yourself approaching the two. Sensing you coming Johnny opens his arms and you tuck yourself into them as the smell of Simon’s cologne and the fall washes over you.

You find yourself relaxing into the fabric of Johnny's jacket and a hand comes up to your hair. Fingers gently comb through your hair as the men talk. Simon shifts a few minutes later, moving behind to one of the raised beds. He lifts a small beam, the muscles in his back flexing, before setting it down and bracketing it into place. 

As you look over the other beds you notice the patch of sunflowers. Your lips turn up and you pull from Johnny to go see. But as you approach you hear a bark before a dash of brown tackles you into the grass. You go down with a yelp before an eager dog is kissing your face with a whine. 

“Jesus Riley down!” 

Your eyes blink open and you find a beautiful gray-eyed german shepherd sitting on your hip, her weight smushing the air out of your diaphragm and lungs. You feel her tail thump against your legs before there is a call of her name from Simon as the man's steps clamber over. She just whines and chooses to lay down on your prone form, tucking her snout into your chin.

“Riley, come.” The baritone of his voice is over you now but the down refuses to comply instead looking at you and whining. Your hands dig into her coat behind her ears and she gives a satisfied grunt.

Johnny starts to laugh, throwing an arm over Simon as the older man shakes his head.

“Ye spoil that dog rotten, I told you she had good taste in people.”

Simon gives a hum, a small smile tugging on his lips at you playing with the rescue, 

“Right there Johnny.”

The dog's tail thumps against your legs faster and she starts giving a low woof  the sound breathy and playful.

“You gotta let me up sweetheart.” 

Your voice comes out in a laugh, the dog cocks her head but steps off you immediately as a hand drops down to help you up. 

You take it and Simon pulls you effortlessly, his hand is warm from the work and rough, and he holds yours a moment longer, looking into your eyes,

“She likes you,” he squeezes your hand before letting go, the look in his eye warming your heart. Seeing you are up, the dog comes to sit at your feet, her tail thumping. You can feel Simon's warmth, look up to him, and find Johnny looking at him. They look at each other and something warm passes between them because Johnny's head comes to Simon's shoulder. A flicker of affection passes the lieutenant's eyes before he turns to you.

You feel your heartbeat in your ears at the affection and then you realize there must have been something there. You find your heart starting to rear but a large hand comes to your head, brushing through your hair. Your eyes widen and an arm runs around your middle as Johnny pulls you to his chest. You look up to him, eyes wide in question and he nods, your heart pulls but Simon’s hand brushes the leaves out of your hair gently and you look to him to find warmth in his eyes.

“Are you guys together?”

The question comes in a whisper as you try to calm your racing heart, how he was looking at you spoke of stories. Riley whines, licking your palm as Simon's hand pulls the last leaf from your hair. 

“No”

It's Simon that speaks, his hand coming down your cheek gently. Your heart picks up when there is a knowing shine in his eyes. He finally got to meet you, the one that shaped and saved his beloved Johnny. 

“Johnny?”

Your voice comes out small, and he is there instantly, nose tucked into your hair.

“It's all up to you sweetheart. Nothing will take me from your side.”

Its simon who speaks next,

“I’d like to take you out, Love.”

Your heart hammers at that, his hand now cupping your jaw. Unlike Johnny’s shining love, warm like the childhood sun, Simon’s affection is calm, more cool and soothing to your jittering heart. A light like the moon shining in his eyes.  

 “We would like to.” 

Johnny adds grinning and Riley barks in time, nudging your leg suddenly making you stumble. Simon's arm winds around you and Johnny smiles when you blush.

“Riley!”

At your call she just whines, pawing at your legs. Simon’s thumb brushes down your cheek, soft as a whisper. He grasps your hand and lifts it to his lips, pressing a kiss on your knuckles. Testing yourself you curl your fingers around his and he smiles.  

“You’re sweet Dove.”

His affirmation builds your confidence. You found the man to be charming, his scars and care for Johnny in all. You explore then, releasing his hand to grasp at his face. His cheeks are warm, rough with the occasional scar, he leans into your touch. 

“I think I’d like that.” 

You reply to Johnny, said man smiles, tugging you back to him to spin you around. 

He laughs, a sound that lights up your heart and Simon’s. You brace your hand on his shoulders when he finally slows, his arms around your waist. He gently sets you down when he kisses you passionately.

The sudden action takes the breath from your lungs. He takes the initiative then, nipping your lip, before tucking you into his arms and holding you close. You close your eyes and just wrap your arms around his heart racing when you see Simon’s lips quirk up and Riley barks when the man moves.

“‘Bout time for dinner love birds.”

His voice rumbles as he passes you two, his hand ruffling Johnny's hair before heading to a workbench by the porch.  He stretches, pulling his back and rolling his shoulders. He then calls RIley who trots over to him, he heads to the sliding door and pulls it open before stepping in.

Riley stops at the edge of the door, turning to look back at you before barking. 

You pat Johnny on the back and he huffs, releasing you.

You then approach the door, hearing Riley’s tail thump harder against the siding of the house at your approach. She then play bows and darts into the house followed by you and Johnny.

Fin

Special things to @breakawayresin for looking at some of this beforehand <3

[iamnotthere-idonotdie]

adored, pt. 3

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synopsis: reader and bruce continue spending time together, but a tragedy in gotham city seems to change his mind about whether this can work

warnings: bruce wayne (battinson) x reader, no explicit description of sex, one use of “fuck”

a/n: final part of this story, i was hoping to incorporate this idea that bruce is concerned about the safety of being with him, he knows his role as the batman is dangerous and anyone in association with him is in danger too, maybe he wouldn’t actually think this way but i always thought he’d be concerned about getting too close to people, again maybe that’s ooc but that’s just where my mind went, i was inspired this time by the song i won’t let you go by snow patrol (yes from the divergent soundtrack) so here’s the playlist link again if you’d like, as always sorry about the typos that are probably here

thanks by the way for the likes on the first two parts! i didn’t even think anyone would read these let alone like them so i appreciate it :) i’m working on a few other stories that are also bruce wayne/batman x reader so i’m excited to get those out, i’m hoping that over time and with more practice i’ll get better at writing, so i guess just bear with me as i work on it!

edit: link to part 2 and part 1

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you finally make your way out of bruce’s bed in the morning. you find your way out of the twisted sheets and step into the cold hardwood floor. bruce isn’t there, he must already be awake. you rub your eyes as you try to adjust to the sunlight creeping through the gap in the almost closed curtains. bruce walks in, holding two mugs of what you’re hoping is hot coffee. he hands you one and sits next to you on the bed. the two of you stay there for a while, sipping your coffee, silent, just like the last time you met.

“how are you feeling?” he asks. you think he’s still concerned about last night, about the paparazzi.

“i’m good. very good” you smile and rest your head on his shoulder.

“me too” he says softly, as he wraps his arm around you.

the rest of the day is spent with the two of you laying in bed, talking, kissing, him falling asleep multiple times. he seems exhausted, so you let him sleep, then he wakes up and pretend-scolds you for letting him drift off again. it’s a perfect day, with just each other.

sunset comes around and you almost ask if you can stay another night. before you get the chance though, bruce comes up to you and hands you a set of new pajamas and some other clothes. he says he asked his butler to go out and buy you some extra things to wear.

“thank you, you didn’t need to do this.”

“you only have your outfit from last night.”

“i could’ve gone home.”

“i didn’t want you to.”

this night is spent similarly to last, with the two of you spending it under covers, together. you think to yourself that you don’t want this weekend to ever end. you want to always stay, right here, with him.

the next morning though, bruce’s mood has shifted. you wake up alone again, but this time you’re not met with a cup of coffee. you’re not met with a good morning, a smile, nothing. you change into one of the outfits bruce gave you and find him downstairs in the living room, reading through some folder. he quickly closes it when he notices you and it sets it down on the table he’s standing next to.

you look at the television on the wall that’s playing the news, and see an anchor talking in a concerned tone.

“last night, on the edge of town, blue ridge factory suffered a sudden explosion. eleven are dead and 19 more are injured, including 3 currently in intensive care. law enforcement are still unsure about the cause of the explosion, and though they suspect it was accidental, they are not ruling out foul play.”

“oh my god,” you say in shock. “that’s so horrible.”

bruce walks towards you slowly, keeping his eyes on the television.

“what happened, do you think? do you think it really was an accident?” you ask him. you can feel a lump in your throat. all those poor people, their families.

“i don’t know.” he quietly replies.

“it’s just so sad. maybe the batman can help them with the investigation. he helped with the riddler.”

bruce just continues staring at the television.

“yeah. maybe.” he says flatly.

he walks out of the room, taking the folder from the table with him.

you’re still horrified at what happened at the factory, but you’re now also confused at bruce’s reaction to it. maybe he’s just more upset about it than you thought. you stay there, watching the news, and a few minutes later bruce comes back, no folder in hand.

“alfred can take you back home today whenever you want.” he says flatly.

you turn to him, surprised at the sudden change in mood.

“oh.. okay.”

“something just came up that i need to take care of.”

“alright.”

you get up from the couch and head towards the door. figuring that what he really means is that you should go, now. bruce’s butler has packed up your things and is coming down the stairs with it now. you pause for a moment at the door, then turn back to look at bruce.

“i had a good time this weekend. thank you.”

bruce slowly walks towards you, then gently puts his hand on your face.

“i did too.” and he kisses you. you can’t help but sense a sadness in his eyes as he says goodbye. you walk out the door, get into the car, and drive away. all the while hoping, praying, begging, that this goodbye is the last.

…

it’s been five days. no word from bruce. you’ve woken up every day hoping that this wasn’t it, that you wouldn’t become just an every-two-week hookup.

you’re sitting there at your desk, at your same job, waiting, like everyday, for 5pm to come so you can leave. you of course haven’t gone back to the bar. in fact you haven’t gone much of anywhere besides work. you just don’t see the point.

you look at the clock and see 4:59 blinking at you. as you start to gather your things, you hear the door swing open. you sigh, ready to put on a happy face for this annoying person who decided to walk in right as you’re closing. you look up from your bag though, and it’s bruce.

you’re shocked. what was he doing here?

“hi,” he says quietly.

“hi,” your reply.

“i need to speak with you” he looks concerned.

fuck. this is it.

“okay, do you want to talk here?”

“we can go back to my place.”

“okay.”

you get up from your desk and follow him outside to his car. luckily, no one’s there with cameras so you don’t have to worry about being in the news again.

after a minute of riding, bruce reaches over and puts your hand in his, silently. you hold his back and he squeezes slightly, and you feel butterflies in your stomach.

when you get back to his home, you’re appalled to see vans and a crowd of people waiting outside the gate.

“oh my god,” you say as you stare out the window at them. “what are they doing here?”

bruce seems just as confused as he looks at them too.

“someone must have seen me leave with you at work,” you start thinking out loud. “and they all decided to come here and wait for us to come.”

bruce just stays silent, clearly angry that they’ve come to his home.

you pull into the long driveway and the two of you do your best to get inside as quick as possible. you sit in the same living room as you did before, and you wait to see if bruce is going to tell you what he needed to talk to you about. he just comes and sits down next to you.

“so… what did you want to talk about?” you ask, trying to approach this delicately in case it’s going to turn into a sensitive conversation.

“it’s about this. about us.”

you wait for it, for the end.

“i don’t think it’s a good idea.”

you just sit there for a moment. you knew it was coming, but it doesn’t take away from the sting of hearing him say it out loud.

“is it because of the press?”

“partially but… no it’s just… not…”

he stutters over his words.

“what is it? is it me?”

“no… it’s…”

“then what bruce? if you’re going to cut this off then i at least deserve to know why.”

he sighs and gets up from the couch. you sit there still, looking up at him, waiting for an answer.

“i’m not safe.”

…what? what does he mean he’s not safe?

“being with me, is not safe. the paparazzi, the press, all of that can be handled. it’s the others who are the issue… i have a lot of enemies being me, having this,” he gestures around him. “and a lot of those enemies take their hatred into their own hands. i can only do so much to protect you from it. you’re not safe with me.” his voice trails off with sadness as you just look at him.

that seems a bit dramatic to you. sure he’s had issues with people before, threats and the like, but he’s always been okay. why is he now starting to get worried?

“i’m not afraid of all that. i���ll be okay.”

“i can’t guarantee that. and i can’t knowingly put you in harms way. the one thing those people know how to do is hurt, and if they see us, then they’ll try to use you against me. and i can’t allow that to happen to you.” his voice starts to rise a bit and you can tell he’s getting more and more upset.

“bruce…”

“i’m sorry.”

he looks at you with tears in his eyes and you stand up to comfort him, but he swiftly walks out of the room, leaving you to contemplate everything he just said. his butler slowly approaches you and asks if you’d like a ride home. all you do is nod as he takes you out the back door to the garage where you can leave without being seen by the hoard out front.

you cry the whole drive home. you cry over bruce, over losing him, over what he said to you. when you stop at your apartment, alfred looks in the mirror at you.

“i’m sorry about this. bruce is… well, he has some trouble letting people in. and when he does, he tries to do everything he can to not lose them. even if that means pushing them away.”

you look back at him, wondering if that’s really true.

“thank you for the ride, sir.”

“anytime.” he smiles sadly at you and you leave the car and head up to your apartment. crying in here has become an all too common practice for you. you lay in bed, tears flowing, and you eventually cry yourself to sleep.

…

it’s day six since you had that talk with bruce. day six of trying to forget him. but when he’s the richest, most famous man in the city, it becomes quite difficult to avoid reminders.

as you sit in your living room, drinking a glass of wine, in and out of crying fits, you suddenly get the urge to snap out of this self-pity and get dressed up. something about putting on a nice outfit makes you feel better, even if there’s no where to go and no one to see.

but once you get the outfit on, you get a weird feeling. you don’t know why, but something’s telling you to go the bar. maybe you need to go once by yourself to get some closure. maybe you want to listen to the music. maybe you just want a stronger drink. but for whatever reason, you leave your apartment and get a taxi there.

it’s pretty crowded tonight, your usual table is taken by a young couple. you sit at a different spot across the room, giving you a clearer view of the door. you try not to look at it as you sip your drink, but every time the door swings open, you can’t help but glance over to see who it is. it’s never him. hours go by. couples have come and gone. the band has switched to a more quiet setlist. you’re on your third drink. and you miss him. by god, do you miss him. you miss dancing. you miss his bed. you miss his rare smiles. you start to feel the tears again as you see the door open out of the corner of your eye. surely another person has left, leaving you in a near-empty bar. but you look over and you see him. he stands there for a moment, and you just look at each other.

without thinking you stand up, walk over to him, and kiss him. he holds you tightly and you fall into him, letting his embrace overwhelm you. you finally pull away from each other and you notice the camera flashes outside through the windows. you look up at him and he smiles.

“we can handle them.” he says.

“yes, we can.”

“we can handle whatever anyone throws at us.”

“yes, we can.”

he starts to pull away but you continue holding, willing him to not let you go, not yet.

he puts his arms around you again and holds you tight.

“i’m here. i won’t let you go.”

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[laylajeffany]

A twisted reimagining of canon events for Enid in the alternate universe setting within this penultimate chapter

[itwoodbeprefect]

one thing i have to hand to people online who leave reviews on obviously low budget westerns is that at least they don't complain that it's an obviously low budget western. it seems that i can't say this for some of the people leaving reviews on obviously low budget queer movies

[se7ens-oc-heaven]

And now, time for some oc writing!! Specifically, a self-contained piece for my SwSh oc Rex. I think of this as a sort of brief, non-chronological "timeline" piece for him, showing out-of-context snapshots to sort of give a sense of his main drive in the Legendkeepers story. Hopefully you'll all enjoy, this is my first time doing a format like this but I hope it isn't too confusing!

Context: Rex is my oc who follows the Shield storyline, becoming a champion of Galar and exploring the story and events in the Crown Tundra afterwards. His best friend, Ritsu, is a "Faller" who went missing when they were children, and never came back. This follows Rex and how he handles this disappearance as he gets older.

•••

Rex was eleven years old when he first heard the news that his best friend was reported missing. He was worried, of course. He loved his friend dearly. But, in the way you do when you're eleven, he also felt a sureness of how the world worked in a way that didn't always turn out the way it by all rights should have. 

"Yeah, mum and dad have been losing their minds over it. You'd think the world was ending over here, never mind how Ritsu’s parents have been handling things," Rex said rather blithely to Hop, his neighbor and longtime friend. Ritsu's longtime friend. Hop, perched on the stone wall next to Rex, tilted his head at him, confused. 

"They said Ritsu's gone though, right? That sounds awful serious to me," he countered, concern lacing his expression. Hop, by this point, had gathered the nature of the situation well before Rex did. Rex shrugged, swinging his feet aimlessly, heels battering the old stone wall beneath him. 

"I dunno. I mean, it can't be that bad. His parents are always making a fuss if Ritsu misses so much as snack time, and you know he's aces at building super secret bases. He prolly just made a new one and didn't tell them," Rex explained, hopping off the wall with a muted 'oof'. 

"Hey, maybe next time we go visit, we should ask him if we can sleep over in it! I bet it's so cool no one would ever wanna leave, and that's why no one's seen him yet!" He added excitedly. Hop nodded, eyes brightening, the enthusiasm infectious. 

"Yeah, that'd be awesome!" 

•••

Rex was ten years old when his parents were ready to let him take on his first Pokemon. Rex had been eagerly waiting for the day. Bursting with excitement when they told him the good news. But he asked, as politely as he'd ever asked anything, that he wait a year before getting one. 

"Rex, dear, this is all you've ever talked about for so long! I don't mind, but why the change of heart?" His mother inquired, surprised. 

"I was thinking I want to wait until Ritsu can get his, so we can get ours together and they can be bestest buds just like we are!" Rex beamed. His parents exchanged fond, if somewhat anxious glances. 

"I don't have a problem with it," his dad chimed in. 

"But... Ritsu may not even want a pokemon. You know how he gets around them," he added carefully, watching his son for his response. Rex, unphased, shook his head. 

"It'll be fine! He'd feel loads better if he had one looking out for him, I know he would! And so'd his parents! I bet if they quit nagging him so much they'd all learn pokemon can be really cool too!" 

"Rex! That's no way to speak about them!" His mother scolded him with a huff. Rex merely gave a cheeky shrug. 

"It's true though!" 

•••

Rex was fifteen years old when he decided to take on the gym challenge. His parents protested his decision, but he didn't care. He was tired of them getting on his case all the time anymore. Always the same thing, nag nag nag. Ever since Ritsu had disappeared, both his mum and dad had gone insane about keeping track of Rex, holding him accountable at all times. Rex was fed up with it. 

"Ready to go, Miki?" He whispered to his Charmander, sitting on the bedroom sill next to him. Miki wagged her tail, the embers flickering in a mesmerizing fashion in the early dawn light. 

"Char!" She squeaked eagerly. Rex shushed her, brushing a fingertip down her nose gently as a tactile reminder. He grinned down at the charmander in her little red bow. 

"Alright. Let's go then, before we wake mum and dad," he murmured, gesturing with a free arm. Miki took the cue, hopping onto his shoulders, clinging for all she was worth. Rex took a final look down the wall, and - judging it clear - hauled himself down the side, keeping a solid hold on the windowsill now above him. He felt around for good footholds, inching his way down. Normally he'd have no qualms about just dropping right down into the bush below, full force. But he had to be quiet. 

Miki whimpered slightly as Rex slid a little, missing what he thought had been a good ledge. She clung tighter as he fumbled around, adjusting his handholds once he felt his legs were stable. Rex took another look down. Should be good enough, right? 

"Hold on, Miki," he whispered, and with a push he launched himself off the wall, landing on his feet below just in front of the bush. The momentum carried him into a kneel, and he rammed his knees down into the grass with a pained grunt. Oh, he'd be feeling that one later. But that was later, and this was now. And right now, he had to go meet with Hop. 

"Whew.... Alright," Rex muttered to himself, shaking off the lingering pain from his graceless landing. 

"Let's go!" 

It would be several hours before his parents discovered what happened. Rex would be long gone for Wedgehurst by then, and fresh off of what would be his first of many legendary encounters.  

•••

Rex was sixteen years old as he stared down death for the first real time. As he placed himself between Leon and Hop, the latter crying for the former to wake up, pull himself together, Death stared down at the scene before it with a blank apathy. Rex glowered up at the unfeeling hand just waiting to scoop them all up within its chilling grasp. He didn't care what it thought it was, it was out of line! 

The creature - Eternatus, presumably - thundered a hollow, alien cry, and Rex readied his pokeballs. It'd have to kill him and his team before it could get to Hop and Leon. 

•••

Rex was still sixteen years old as he tackled the chairman to the floor of the power plant. He'd never cared much for the man and his glib manner of speaking, but it had never been personal. Before now, that is. 

Now? He wanted nothing more dearly than to make the older man pay for what he did. For endangering his pokemon. For endangering Leon. For endangering Hop, and nearly putting him through another loss. For nearly putting Rex through another loss. 

Well. Rex almost wanted nothing more dearly than to make the older man pay.  

Rex was sixteen years old as the other adults hauled him off of the beaten and battered chairman, voices blending together into a thick stew of concern and shock, worry and admonishment. 

Rex was sixteen years old as he was escorted from the Hammerlocke gym, into a throng of cameras and microphones pushing and shoving greedily towards him, ready to feed. 

Rex was sixteen years old as articles scrutinizing him flew off the press and as news reporters used his name as they would that of a storm in the daily weather report. 

Rex was sixteen years old, a hero of Galar. A public figure.

Rex was sixteen years old when he became the Champion.

Rex was sixteen years old. 

•••

Rex was twelve years old, nearly thirteen, when he attended his best friend's funeral. He didn't understand why. Ritsu was still missing. Not dead. 

According to the adults, it was because there were no leads, no sign of Ritsu anywhere at any point, and so they had to assume the worst. Well, then the adults hadn't looked hard enough! That wasn't Ritsu's fault if they were bollocks at searches. They shouldn't have been giving up on him just for that. 

Rex stood amid a mass of black, holding his baby charmander close to his chest. That shouldn't be out, someone had scolded, put it back in its pokeball. 

No, Rex had said, standing firm. Miki has just as much right to be here as anyone. She wasn't hurting anything.

The adults continued to shoot him looks for the orange bundle in his black-clad arms. He let them. 

Miki had been there for him through all of this. She didn't deserve to be cooped up in some ball just because the others thought she was lesser. 

At least Hop understood. Over half of the times that Rex had looked up to see a disapproving glare sent his way, he also saw Hop giving them a hard stare of his own, inching himself in the middle of the line of sight. Rex would give an appreciative smile and Hop would hit him with a small grin of his own. 

"You don't have to handle this alone", it seemed to say. 

•••

Rex was sixteen years old as he stood next to his best friend Hop, in the midst of a panicked evacuation from the Darkest Day heralding the end of the world.

“Aaaagh, shit. How are we going to find Leon in this mess?” Hop bounced on the balls of his feet anxiously, trying to crane his neck to see past the people flooding out of the building. 

“Stay calm. If there’s one thing I’ve learned researching about Ritsu, it’s-”

“Oh, drop it about Ritsu for one damned second!” Hop swore. Rex faltered, startled. Around them, alarms blared and a cacophony of voices swarmed in all directions around them. 

Rex stared back at Hop, brows furrowed in a question he was too speechless to ask. Hop waved his arm in a sweeping motion towards everything. 

“Now’s not the time! Just look at this! We have to focus on the now, on saving my brother!”

Rex found himself protesting without fully meaning to.

“Well, yeah, obviously. I wasn’t saying otherwise. I was jus-”

“No, I know! But it’s not the same! It’s not! The same!” Hop interrupted, voice raising.

 “My bro’s still alive! Ritsu’s dead! He’s been dead, and I’ve let it go all this time that you keep blithering on about bringing him back or whatever, but now’s not the time!”

Rex fell still. Hop glared him down for a moment before it was clear no one was going to make a move otherwise. 

“Ugh, screw this! I’m going to go find Leon! Or the chairman. Or. Something!” Hop scoffed, whirling on his heel and running off into the amorphous cloud of people.

Rex hesitated. 

He had to go help too. 

His feet felt welded to the floor. 

Rex was sixteen years old as he stood, lost and alone in a crowd of people fleeing the end of the world. 

•••

Rex was sixteen, going on seventeen years old, as the wind blustered around him, stealing his heat from his bones. He paid it little mind, all attention trained on the pokemon before him, its absurdly large head bobbing around in front of him. Chief Peony likewise bobbed in the air, suspended with telekinesis Rex had wagered, expression almost peaceful as words were spoken through him. 

"I am Calyrex. I am the one known as the King of Bountiful Harvests. I have borrowed this man's body in order to thank you in person...so to speak."

The wind was surely stealing Peony's heat away. He hoped the chief could hold out a little longer. 

•••

“Hold out just a little bit longer, Ritsu.”

Rex was eleven years old, nearly twelve, as he muttered this into his palm. He sat sullenly in his room, staring out the window, grounded for the third time that month for trying to take a train - and then ultimately, a plane - to Hoenn all by himself. 

He was tired of waiting for the adults to get off their arses and find his friend! It was obvious he needed to take matters into his own hands! Not that his parents listened to a word he’d say. What would they know? 

Dejectedly, he flipped through the pages of a worn comic book issue with one hand, disinterested in the panels and words he’d read over a dozen times by now. Only one speech bubble happened to catch his eye by chance as the pages scattered past, a shout bubble belonging to a desperate hero.

“Hold out a little bit longer.”

It was a phrase used often enough, especially in his favorite comics. Seriously enough. Ritsu was fine, Rex knew he was. But it felt appropriate, somehow, to apply it to the situation. 

Hold out a little bit longer. 

Rex was eleven years old, nearly twelve, when a knock on the door distracted him from a troubling line of thinking. 

•••

“Hold on there, Rex,” Rex’s mum had laughed gaily, keying the number into the rotom phone. Rex, twelve years old, sat shoulder to shoulder with Hop, bouncing his knee in impatience as the egg before him glowed gently. 

“But dad’s going to miss it!” Rex whined. 

“He’ll still get to meet the baby pokemon that’s come out of it,” Leon reassured over the speaker. Rex had insisted everyone be present, even if it meant Hop called his brother while Rex’s mum tried - and failed - to reach his dad. 

“It’s supposed to be a charmander, right?” Hop asked his brother. 

“Could be.” 

Rex startled from his pout, and his head whipped to the phone in Hop’s lap. 

“You said it was an egg from your charizard, guaranteed!”

“I mean, who can really tell with eggs?” Leon laughed. Rex had just about wound up a retort when a telltale crack sound snapped in front of him. All eyes trained on the source. 

The egg was hatching. 

Everyone watched, spellbound, as the egg broke open in a blaze of light. A little orange lizard sprawled out from the broken shell, stretching with a tiny squeak of effort, before large aquamarine eyes turned up curiously towards Rex. 

“Hullo there,” Rex whispered, leaning closer to the tiny charmander. 

“Want to be my friend?”

•••

Rex was twenty five years old as he stood, uncertainly, in Eterna forest, an aged flute clutched in both hands. Beside him, Miki, his charizard and most faithful companion, leaned down to huff at the instrument. Rex chuckled, and stroked at her muzzle soothingly. 

“Yeah, I hear ya. ‘S now or never, huh?” 

At his other side, Calyrex nodded sagely. 

“It’s time, Rex,” they confirmed. Rex took a deep breath in. And out. Then, holding the time flute up to his lips, he began to play. 

The trio heard a noise akin to if glitter were a sound, and a delighted laugh chimed across the forest. Rex opened his eyes to see Celebi, hovering in front of him expectantly. 

“Calyrex?” Rex prompted, still nervous. Calyrex nodded. 

“Celebi is ready,” they affirmed. Rex nodded, a smile starting to spread across his lips as it sank in. 

He’d done it. 

He’d finally be bringing Ritsu home. 

Rex was twenty-five years old as he looked Celebi in the eye and said,

“Let’s do it, then. Take me back to Hisui.”

[thehotgrandparent]

Sometimes I wanna delete my older fics, but they might be someone’s favorite fic even tho it’s not really good