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corazondebeskar-reads · 11 months ago

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you know you never stood a chance - epilogue

you know you never stood a chance series

epilogue: maybe light a candle

series masterlist | prev chapter

Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 2.9k

Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and Joel hasn't come home yet. (this takes place about three years after the end of the main story.)

Warnings: established relationship, angst, christmas in the apocalypse, technically spoilers for tlou pt 2, mentions of breastfeeding (not as a fetish), found family, poor communication, oral (f receiving), postpartum depression, possibly violating child labor laws by using a baby as a plot device, pls remember I am playing fast and loose with both canon and the timelines lol

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s Christmas Eve.

Or, at least, according to the council. You’re not sure if anyone is really sure what the date is anymore.

But for all intents and purposes, maybe it’s Christmas Eve. The holiday is a thin, moth-bitten version of its former self, but you’ve never been the holly-jolly or the religious sort, so Christmas Lite suits you just fine.

Maria had invited you and Lulu to the mess hall for a big meal and activities for the kids. It was less of an invitation than an expectation, but you stayed home anyway.

And maybe it wasn’t fair. Maybe she wanted you there for the same reason you didn’t want to be there. She’s fucking tough, maybe the strongest person you know, but she has to be feeling Tommy’s absence today, too. It isn’t Aléjandra’s first Christmas, but likely the first one she’ll remember, which is worse.

But it’s more than it just being Lulu’s first Christmas. It’s that Maria had made a point of telling you that Ellie would be there.

You prepare to watch her leave for the night. The light pours in the window when she opens the shed door, and you know she can see your shadow haunting the living room.

You want Ellie to meet her sister. You dream of it nearly every night. But there’s no way in hell you’re doing it without Joel. It’d break his heart. You like to think she knows, at least. Someone (probably Tommy) had to have told her.

So when she climbs the steps instead of walking past, you freeze. Her knuckles rap against the wood, and you close your eyes. You can’t. You need to, but you can’t.

“Maria asked me to remind you that you promised to come by tonight,” she calls through the door.

She knows you can hear her. She knows you choose not to respond (but she doesn’t know you bite your lip so hard to resist that it bleeds).

It would be wrong. But the ache is so strong you’re convinced it must be a physical wound.

She leaves.

“There goes Ellie,” you tell the baby, as you always do. “She’s got places to be, but she loves you very much.” The guilt of keeping them apart makes you nauseous.

Maybe it isn’t true yet, but you think it is. You think, despite everything, despite the anger she harbors for Joel (and a fragment of that for you), that she already loves her sister. Even if she’s only the shadow of a sister spied through dark windows and across the street.

You wonder if she knows her name. Tommy had started the whole “Lulu” thing, and though it had grown on you now, it made you suspect he hadn’t thought to mention she had a real, full name.

Luna Luann. Luna, for Ellie, and Luann for Joel’s favorite tía, the one who smuggled them chewing gum and taught Joel his strong right hook when the other kids were picking on Tommy.

You’d take this secret to the grave, but you hated the name Luann. But when he brought up the suggestion, he had talked about her for nearly twenty minutes, and so you love the woman despite her name, just for the way she brought a little more of Joel out.

You thought they’d be home by Christmas. You’re trying not to worry, but worrying’s one of the things you’re good at. It doesn’t help that you’re still struggling. You’ve been told it’s normal, but these last two weeks with Joel gone have been so hard.

She’s cutting a tooth (her very first), and you can barely catch a break. You sleep when she sleeps, but it’s never enough. A few neighbors have been bringing casseroles still, and it’s the only reason you’ve been eating.

So, you think it’s probably understandable that you crumble after you watch Ellie walk away and Luna starts to cry. The lights are out except for the single candle in the front window. You keep it lit all night in case Joel comes home. A beacon.

If you had a widow’s walk, you’d be haunting it. But you’re not a widow—couldn’t be, you’re not even a wife—and he’ll be fine. He’ll come back.

Joel always comes back.

It might be Christmas Eve, and you’re slumped against the wall of your living room, crying in tandem with your infant. There’s nothing wrong, you checked. It’s so much worse that she’s probably just picking up on your mood.

You orbit around each other that way. She is the sun that you and Joel revolve around, but his absence has sent you both off balance.

The sun might be the more accurate comparison, but you usually like to say Lulu, your Luna, was your moon, and Joel was the sun. He disagrees. He says he’s the rock, and you are her light.

It was profoundly beautiful, but none of the concepts held up to the reality. The truth was that you were a constellation, but without Ellie, you made no recognizable form. Sagitta with one feather, an arrow that can never fly true.

When you settle down to sniffles and the errant tear, Lulu has fallen asleep against your chest. You creep upstairs and lay her in the crib squeezed between the bed and the wall.

The room was plenty large, and part of it had been set up as a nursery. But after she was born, you spent each night on the floor next to the crib.

Joel hadn’t been having that. After the first week, he sat you down and asked if you’d be able to sleep in the bed if she was next to you.

And then he just… built a second, smaller crib. One that fits right up against your side of the mattress. It was low to the ground, so all you had to do was reach down, and you could feel her little chest rise and fall, or scoop her up to nurse her in the middle of the night. She’ll grow out of it fast, but by then, you hope you’ll feel secure enough to move her to the big one just across the room.

You had been embarrassed. Didn’t want anyone to know. After all, mothers had been putting their children to sleep in different rooms for ages. But you weren’t afraid to tell Joel, knew if there was anyone in this town that understood, it’d be him (and Maria).

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with keepin’ your baby close,” he said, as gruff and blunt as always.

When Joel comes home, he finds you that way. On your side, arm dangling into the crib with Lulu’s tiny fingers wrapped around your own. He sat down and gently tapped your shoulder, trying not to disturb the baby.

“What’re you doin’ here, darlin’?” he whispers when you stir. You blink up at him through sore eyes, then smile softly, sending his heart skittering.

“You’re home,” you say, extracting your finger and sitting up to reach for him.

He wraps you in his arms, lets you burrow into the nest of his broad shoulders. “M’sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, chasing the words with a kiss.

“Tommy okay?”

“Yeah, he’s good. Just hit some delays on the way home. Bridge was out. I thought y’all were going to the party?”

You don’t answer right away. You know he’ll feel bad. That he does feel bad, that the guilt eats a little part of him each day. All he wants is his girls all together.

“I was,” you mumble, feeling the tears prick with a vengeance. “But Maria said… Maria said that Ellie would be there.”

Joel’s arms squeeze you a little tighter for a moment. “Y’know I don’t want to get in the way of you talkin’ to her.”

“I know. But after last time… she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore, anyway.”

“She’ll come around,” Joel says.

It reignites a new round of self-hatred, that he’s sitting here consoling you. After all, she had spoken to you after their fight. Sat down and told you she wasn’t mad at you, that she knew he probably didn’t even tell you.

And he hadn’t told you, hadn’t clued you in, trying in his foolhardy way to spare you the burden of the lie. And you were mad at him for it; you’d had your own spat after.

But you weren’t mad he did it. Not one bit.

He can tell you don’t want to keep talking about it, and that’s fine by him.

“You miss me, baby?” he murmurs, a teasing brush of his lips over your neck.

You roll your eyes. “Oh no, did you have to go two weeks without gettin’ laid?”

He chuckles, dark and raspy, as he reaches to cup your ass and squeeze, smirking when you gasp.

“And you’re tellin’ me those little fingers were enough for your greedy cunt? Like ya ain’t droolin’ for my cock right now?”

You whimper. He’s right. Two weeks is too fucking long for either of you.

He tugs you properly into his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, before he just stands up and carries you into the guest room across the hall. It’s not ideal, but if you leave both doors open, you’ll be able to hear Luna if she wakes.

“How’ve you not thrown your back out?” you grumble as he manhandles you.

He tosses you onto the bed, already peeling off his clothes and pointedly ignoring you.

He’s halfway through tugging his jeans down when he stops and looks at you. “What’re you doing? Let me see ya, sweetheart.”

You’ve long gotten over how easy you are for him. You only hadn’t stripped yet because you wanted to work him up. “You can see me just fine. Or do you need your glasses, old man?”

He takes the bait, shaking his head, before looming over you and running his hands down the sides of his old shirt you use for a nightgown. He barely grazes your breasts, just brushing the tips of your hardened nipples and grinning when you whine.

“Up,” he orders, tugging at the hem of the shirt.

You lift enough for him to pull it off and flop back down. It’s your turn to smirk as he watches the way your tits bounce with deep hunger.

And then he fucking rips the along the side of your panties and pulls them off, throwing them to the floor.

“Hey!”

“Shut up, you can sew ‘em back.”

“I’ve already sewn that pair twice, Joel. You’re a fuckin’ menace.”

“Is that so?” Suddenly his breath is hot against your cunt, and you clench around nothing.

“Uh-huh,” you moan as he runs one finger along the seam of your cunt. “‘Cause you’re a menace.”

“Only for you, darlin’.”

You laugh. “Oh yeah? Let me do a survey around town.”

He shuts you up by sliding two fingers right into your cunt, the stretch almost too much. Almost. But you don’t really notice because he buries his face between your lips, and any sassy remark comes out in a desperate cry.

He pulls away and gives you a warning look, head tilted. His free hand comes up to cover your mouth, thick fingers clamping down and digging into your cheek. It makes you moan, but it also muffles it, so it works out fine.

“If you want your turn, you gotta be quiet. Otherwise, I’ll just have mine and shut you up proper.”

You choke down the moan dredged up by the thought of his cock down your throat and make the saddest pleading eyes you can muster.

He rolls his, shaking his head, before he goes back to your neglected clit.

You’re close, so close when you hear it. You pat Joel’s head, sitting up. “Was that the door?”

The shift is immediate. Three years in town has allowed Joel to relax somewhat, sometimes, but he slips back into it in an instant. He pulls back, brow furrowed, squinting like it’ll help him hear better.

It comes again, louder this time, insistent enough for him to pick up. A firm knocking.

There’s a pause, but Joel’s already on his feet, pulling his clothes back on. He tosses your shirt over as he ducks out of the doorway and you’re slipping it over your head when whoever is outside grows impatient.

Rapid, furious banging rattles the door, and you dart across the hall to shut the bedroom, but it’s too late.

Lulu starts wailing immediately, her little face scrunched up, nose wrinkling, and tears pouring out faster than a faucet. You scoop her up and soothe her, cradling her as she finds solace for her hurt feelings and empty stomach.

Joel goes downstairs, partly to shut up the racket but mostly because the sound fills him with dread. When he opens the door, it flings wide, and the tirade begins immediately.

Ellie storms in, already yelling. “—could you? What the fuck is wrong with you? You won’t even let her come out for fuckin’ Christmas because she might see me?”

You’re going down the stairs as soon as you hear her voice, but she stops yelling when she sees you on the landing.

“It’s not his fault,” you say, face hot with frustration and raw hurt. You hate the way your eyes water.

“Like hell, it isn’t. Maria said you were going to come, that one of you might actually have the balls to tell me you had a fuckin’ baby, and—”

“And I decided not to go, Ellie. Joel wasn’t even home. He didn’t know.”

Lulu has started to cry again, distracted from nursing by your ire. You murmur apologies, kissing the little tuft of dark hair on her head, and try to coax her back to your breast.

Ellie’s eyes are wide, and feet planted, ratty sneakers dripping filthy snow across the floor. Her mouth hangs open as she takes in the tiny, ruddy creature who finally agreed to return to her meal.

“Hey, Ellie. We had a fuckin’ baby,” Joel says after the silence hangs for a minute too long.

The bark of laughter that bursts out of her looks like it hurts, but she can’t fight it. The tension dissolves into absurdity and then tears.

Ellie sits on the ground instead of the perfectly nice sofa to her left. You come down the stairs and sit beside her.

You look up at Joel, and he nods. You wish he’d come sit, but he’s too afraid to break the peace. “Would you like to hold your sister?” you ask Ellie, keeping your voice low and steady.

“Can I? I mean… what if I break her?”

“She’s pretty tough.” Lulu is done eating, just suckling for comfort, so you pry her off your breast and tug your shirt back up.

Joel takes her without thinking, leaning her against his shoulder to help her work out the air.

Once she gives a satisfactory belch, he thrusts her at Ellie, who’s startled enough to take her without thinking about it.

You all hold very still. Except Lulu, who is blissfully unaware of the strife and coos up at her big sister. She bats a little hand at her face, smacking her nose in an attempt to grab on. Ellie laughs, and her smile, her perfect smile that you haven’t seen in a year, breaks out.

You can’t help it; you start crying. Ellie looks up in alarm, but Joel shakes his head, moving closer to rub your shoulder.

“It’s not you,” he says solemnly, “it’s just hard, after.” He gestures at the baby.

“It is you,” you say, and Joel scrubs a hand over his face with a soft groan. “It’s—I’m sorry, I just—”

Ellie’s looking like she might make a break for it. She tries to hand the baby back to Joel, who refuses.

You get ahold of yourself. “It’s not bad, Ellie. I’ve just been waiting for this since she was born.”

Ellie softens and then scowls. “Then you should have told me. You should have told me you were pregnant in the first place. I said you could talk to me.”

“No, I couldn’t,” and you pause as she shoots a dirty look at Joel. “No, not because of him. Because I would have done the same damn thing, so you may as well hate me too.”

“What?” She seems genuinely shocked, which you don’t have the patience for.

“I would do the same damn thing. If I had been there, there would have been nothin’ in the fuckin’ world keeping me from getting to you, Ellie. Nothing short of death. Not then, not now. I’d do it for her, too.”

The room is stifling, and Joel hasn’t even lit the hearth yet. Your breath comes out in little puffs, and every one of you has wet, devastated eyes. Even Lulu, who looks like she might be the first to break into tears.

Ellie looks down and sighs. “So, Lulu, huh?”

“Actually,” Joel says, and chances a step closer, squatting down. “It’s Luna. Luna Luann. Tommy’s just an idiot.”

Ellie’s a smart kid. You can see the moment it clicks—the way she looks up at Joel with something akin to hope. It fades quickly, but you know he saw it, too. His own staggering heart, heavy with love unspoken, is betrayed in the way he has to fight a smile, choke down the relief. Maybe, just maybe.

Maybe next year, you’ll get a tree.

thank you all so, so much.

*title from "Alone This Holiday" by The Used

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller x f!oc #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us smut #you know you never stood a chance series

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rearranged-fanfic · 3 months ago

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New Story Out!

*Waves* Hello! It's been a while since I interacted with the fandom. The AO3 curse got me bad. Sorry, guys!

Anyway, I'm back for the moment. And I bring you a smutty two-shot of Merman!Satoru in apology. Hopefully, I'll be releasing Part Two by this Friday. REARRANGED is still taking a bit because Nanamin is decidedly hard to write, especially because I've been in a slump.

Anyway, it's super late where I am. I'll respond to all the messages and comments on here that I've been neglecting tomorrow morning! Sorry for ghosting you all! I missed you 🥰

In other news, I now have 84 messages on AO3 that I also need to respond to. Oops.

:.:

New Story

Seaside

Rating: E, Very E

Warnings: None

Summary: Will you let me keep you forever? When Reader-chan returns to her seaside hometown for the summer, she catches the eye of a mysterious suitor. Of course, she's not aware that she even has a suitor, let alone one as unusual as this.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Merman Gojo Satoru, Human Reader, Mystery, Horror Lite, Romance, Interspecies Romance, Human/Monster Romance, Courting Rituals, Misunderstandings, Explicit Sexual Content, Nonhuman Genitalia, Cervical Penetration, Happy Ending

*Excerpts from the story (Spoilers, duh)*

Excerpt 1:

The long reach of the dock is less intimidating than it’d been when I was a child. It’d once felt like it stretched a mile into the sea. Now, it’s just a short walk until I reach the end. Shuffling off my sandals and rubbing my sore heels, I plonk down at the very edge. The coolness of the water caresses the red-hot soles of my feet. My sterling silver ankle bracelets reflect the light of the sun like fish scales. It’d been a bad idea to wear new shoes, I admonish myself. I kick out absentmindedly, sending ripples of water out to sea. The ocean is calm right now, but I know that it can get rough. I sigh and tilt my head back, basking in the midday sun. I’d jump in to cool off, if I didn’t know any better. The water around the village isn’t good for swimming. The surf and spray are rough at the best of time. It’s good for sports and the like, but human bodies are too likely to get tossed around or pulled out to sea in a riptide. The cove that my little home rests on is one of the more dangerous areas, with the tidal pools that have formed here creating all manner of crazy currents when the tide changes. I’d been scared away from taking a dip here time and time again when I was just a kid. Now, I know better. Only my feet in the water, or Dad will claw himself out of his grave just to berate me. It’s so quiet out here, with only the waves to keep me company. I let out a low hum—a song from very, very far in the past. It’s what Mom used to sing to my sister and I when we were small. I only remember parts of the words now, but the tune is forever ingrained into my soul. Then another sound joins my lament: a low, haunting wail. “A dolphin?” I ask under my breath. Whatever it is, it sounds close. Or it’s very, very loud. And as its beautiful cry dies off, I sing back to it a little louder.

Excerpt 2:

It feels hazy—like experiencing everything through a gaussian blur. I can’t quite focus on any one thing. It’s too hard to lift my heavy body. Sleep paralysis, I think. This must be a dream. It has to be. Then there’s a smooth voice murmuring into my ear. The vibrations almost tingle. I feel it down to the tips of my toes. It’s a man, I think. One that I’ve never heard before—that’s a voice I’d recognize no matter what. It’s so incredibly beautiful. “You didn’t come when I called. I was worried,” the presence seems to almost be scolding me. I’d laugh at this weird dream manifestation if I could move. There’s a beat. “You shouldn’t sleep like this, you know; you could drown. You humans are terrifyingly fragile.” A chuckle follows the statement, trails off and fades into the sounds of the waves from below. A dream. Just a dream. I sigh, leaning into the sweet touch. My dreamlike phantom nuzzles at the place where my shoulder and neck meet. The soft tickling comes again. It lingers against my chin, leaving moisture in its wake. Hair, I think. Wet. Cold. It’s such a contrast from the heat of my bath that I shiver.

#fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #gojo x oc #gojo x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #Merman Gojo #i have returned #with smut

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dhr-ao3 · 8 months ago

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Rainstorm

Rainstorm https://ift.tt/ay9Asg4 by arborlibrary “I used to love thunderstorms as a kid,” Hermione revealed, surprising herself as the words fell past her lips. She hadn’t intended to say them; nothing had prompted it. She waited for him to laugh. “Me too,” he admitted instead. “I loved this castle, too, even if I pretended I didn’t. Now it feels like a graveyard, designed to remind me of my mistakes every day.” His confession was surreal enough for Hermione to consider whether this was a dream, though the pinch of her fingernails digging into her palms reminded her that it couldn’t be. “I feel like one of the ghosts haunting it,” she whispered. // After the war, Hermione Granger can't sleep during thunderstorms, so she takes refuge in the eighth year common room. Draco Malfoy has the same idea. Words: 1805, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 6 of Dramione Drabbles Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Thunderstorms, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Eighth Year Common Room, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Rain, Insomnia, Enemies to Friends, Anxiety, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, lite, Literal Sleeping Together via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/AJOrSUN March 29, 2024 at 04:18AM

#IFTTT #Dramione #Draco x Hermione

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calchexxis · 2 years ago

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FANFIC APPRECIATION MEME

Post recommendations for your ten favourite fanfics and tag the authors if possible. Tell us what you like about their work.

Tag five people of your choice to do the meme too."

I was tagged by @blood-lich-crow @heroinejinx and @ghostofyaz

Fair warning, I do not read much Fanfic anymore as I spend most of my time writing it, so some of these fics are probably going to feel really scattered. With that said, let’s get into it.

LIGHTCANNON (Lux/Jinx)

Non-Linear Growth by @booking-and-blogging (Elfen1012 on Ao3)

A lot of people reading my work have said that Flashbangs is the Lightcannon bible, but if that’s true then NLG by Elfen1012 is the Lightcannon New Testament. It hits the ground running from the perspective of a Jinx that is trying to piece herself back together after the end of Arcane and it is something to behold. I cannot recommend this enough.

Luxurious Anarchy by @cannibalelf (Cannibal_Elf on Ao3)

A kind of Soulmate-lite longform fic in which Lux is drawn across the span of Valoran to find her one-and-only: Jinx, mad and still struggling with the events of Arcane. This is just a really fantastic romp through the world of Piltover and Zaun, thoroughly enjoyable on every level. The prose are punchy, the narrative is clean, and I really enjoyed my time with it.

Friction Coefficient by @blood-lich-crow ( Blood_Lich_Maeve on Ao3)

I would argue this is probably the best Modern!AU Lightcannon on Ao3 right now, at least in my very subjective opinion. It gracefully deals with a lot of delicate topics like internalized (and external) homophobia and transphobia, trans issues, and addiction. This is one of the messiest romances I’ve ever read and I am here for it.

PISTOLWHIP (Caitlyn/Jinx)

the lover of my impossible soul by Goldfyshie927 on Ao3

This Modern!AU features Caitlyn as a professional escort who is drawn into a relationship with the wealthy and chaotic Jinx in order to keep her father happy and convince him she had mellowed out somewhat. The profound sense of loneliness you get from both characters throughout the story, and the way they inelegantly mesh together is really profound, and I look forward to seeing more of this story come out. Big recommendation for very unusual ship.

SYLVAINA (Sylvanas/Jaina)

Vintage by (jointly) @redisaid and @uninspired--poet

How do I put this. To date, I’ve read the entirety of Vintage six times. Vintage isn’t just a fanfiction I think is good. Vintage is one of the fanfictions I go back reread every now and again to remind myself what willful romance is supposed to look like. In this Modern!AU where Jaina is a college student and scion of a wealthy family, while Sylvanas is the owner of a small, failing vintage goods shop in New York. It’s a story about falling in love and then choosing to stay that way despite the many things that crop up. It’s about coming up against the difficulties in relationships and choosing love, with all its messy difficulties, over the path of least resistance. Read this, I am begging you.

Fearless by @redisaid

This might be the best example of modern magic I’ve ever read. It’s as subtle as it is overt, and as entrenched a part of the world as it is wholly separate from it. Jaina, a ghost-eating witch, finds a house haunted by a powerful banshee, and fully intends to consume her for power. Over the course of the story, that changes, and everything from the side characters, to the small moments, to the strong finish has stuck with me to the point that it inspires aspects of my own writing.

Within The Drift by @uninspired--poet

It’s hard to do a good crossover, even when the crossover’s make a kind of thematic sense. Writing a good crossover when the two subjects have jack shit in common is testament to a great author’s skill. Within The Drift is a fantastically put together sci-fi/fantasy action-romance crossing over Pacific Rim with World of Warcraft, featuring Sylvanas and Jaina as contentiously drift compatible pilots. I’ve read this story back to front several times, and it never gets old.

KAZULA (Azula/Katara)

Measure Each Step to Infinity by paxbanana

Set in Post-Canon ATLA, Measure is fantastic enemies-to-lovers-to-wives story full of angst, intrigue, action, and redemption. It has one of my favorite depictions of Azula and, surprisingly, Aang, which the story humanizes wonderfully. Azula is as morally gray as ever, and her struggle to leave behind the horrors of war and emotional abuse inflicted on her by her father to be better, and Katara’s growing dedication and devotion to her over the course of the story is gripping.

KORVIRA (Korra/Kuvira)

you know you'd look good in my hand by Goldfyshie927 on Ao3

Phenomenal Modern!AU Kuvira fic and I will shamelessly plug this because I love a good bartender character. Kuvira and Korra instantly charm in the first chapter, and their friendship blossoms into a lot more. This is a story that’s impossible to summarize without spoilers, but it is an absolute rollercoaster of emotions, drama, angst, and disaster gays from start to finish and you’d be doing yourself a favor by reading it.

PILTOVER’S FINEST (Caitlyn/Vi)

Run At The Cup. by @thehomelybadger (TheHomelyBadger on Ao3)

I’ve reviewed this story before on this very blog so I really feel it’s necessary to have it here. I don’t read a lot of CaitVi but this one absolutely knocks it out of the park. Or rather, into the goal. Run At The Cup is a Hockey!AU, it’s a fantastic underdog story of a brand-new NHL team, the Zaun Sumprats, and it’s mix of sports jargon, action-packed hockey games, and interpersonal and political drama make for an absolutely gripping story.

#lightcannon #sylvaina #kuvira #kazula #piltover's finest #CaitVi #pistolwhip #caitjinx #fanfic appreciation

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minisugakoobies · 2 years ago

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Jimin Masterlist

LAST UPDATES: Passage 10/31/23

ONE-SHOTS/SERIES:

Passage - Yoongi x Jimin; one-shot; smut (18+); angst; horror; supernatural; Dracula!AU

Written for the BTS Fantasy and Fangs Halloween collab:

For several years, Min Yoongi and the crew of the Magpie have sailed the perilous waters of the Pacific, surviving treacherous waves and other deadly threats in order to deliver goods to the West. Now, on his final voyage as captain, Yoongi is about to face a danger like none he’s ever seen before - and he may find it too tempting to resist.

I Need You Tonight - one-shot; smut (18+); angst; Pool Boy!AU

You’re tired of watching your evil stepmom waste your father’s money. So you steal one of her toys.

Headrush (It's Too Sweet) - one-shot; smut (18+); Idol!AU

Your job is perfect. Or it would be, were it not for one Park Jimin.

All Wound Up (Unbound): A Trilogy - limited series (ongoing); smut (18+); porn with the barest of plots; strangers to lovers; Rock Star!AU

As the owner of body jewelry shop Dark & Wild, you’re given the opportunity to drape the hottest rock stars around, Dead Leaves, in your custom chains. You can’t wait to get your hands all over them.

Claim - one-shot; smut (18+); supernatural; friends to lovers; Vampire!AU

“You smell so good,” he whispers, and you shiver, from the chill of his nose as it skims along the curve of your throat. “Why do you smell so good tonight?“

Shadows in the Graveyard - one-shot; smut (18+); established relationship; non-Idol!AU

Written for the Jimin’s Sunset Spooktober collab:

Your and your boyfriend are driving back from a trip to the haunted corn maze, headed home for a big Halloween bash, when a blown out tire derails your evening. Stranded in the middle of the woods, Jimin promises you he’ll still make it worth your while - but that’s only if you survive whatever the dark shadows chanting in the old graveyard have resurrected.

Welcome Home - one-shot; smut (18+); Coworkers!AU

After 3 months away from home, you return to find a few things have changed about your crush. Like the fact that he’s now single. And sporting a new lip ring.

MULTIPLE PAIRINGS:

12 Lays of Kinkmas: 12 holiday fics based on Kinkmas prompts

And They Were Roommates! - Namjoon x Jimin; one-shot (sequel to Is That My Shirt?); smut (18+); fluff; friends to lovers; Roommates!AU

Jimin suddenly finds himself a lot closer to his roommate Namjoon than he ever expected to be. And it’s making him fall apart.

DRABBLES:

The Magic Number - smut lite, also starring Felix of SKZ

Is That My Shirt? - fluff, angst, mxm

Over - angst, gender neutral reader

Caught - smut (18+)

Important Business - smut (18+), sequel to Welcome Home

Ask My Muse 1 and Ask My Muse 2: A collection of asks answered by my characters

Main Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

#jimin masterlist #jimin fanfic #my writing

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dp-marvel94 · 5 years ago

Text

Face to Face-Chapter 10

Summary: When Danny went through the ghost catcher, he expected to be cured of the ghostliness that had haunted him since the accident, not to wake up on the lab floor with his parents saying he’d been overshadowed but everything’s back to normal now. But why does Danny Fenton cry himself to sleep to then dream of flying? Why does Phantom, the ghost who was supposedly possessing Danny remember a life that wasn’t his? Most of all, why do both the human and the ghost feel that something vital is missing, in their very soul? Or: Trying to cure himself of his powers one month after the accident, Danny accidentally splits himself but neither his ghost nor his human half know that that is what they did

First ->Last -> Next

Word Count: 5,956

Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Fenton blinked awake to find Phantom floating in the dark above their desk chair again. The ghost was carefully studying him.

Still lying down, the human half-smiled. “Were you watching me sleep again?” Phantom’s eyes met his.

The ghost blushed, face turning green (that was so weird). “Sorry.” He whispered. “I guess I’m being kinda creepy.”

“Nah.” Fenton dismissed the statement. “It’s fine.”

Phantom frowned, wringing his hands. “It’s just so….weird seeing you like this.” Fenton furrowed his brow in confusion, provoking the ghost to clarify. “From…the outside.” He added meekly.

Tilting his head, Fenton’s eyes slowly traveled up and down Phantom’s body. Taking in the green eyes and white hair he remembered seeing in the mirror, the jumpsuit like the one he put on before going into the portal but with inverted colors. The surrealness of the statement mystified him. “I think…..I think I get what you mean. This is weird, seeing you not just in a mirror.” He sighed. “But it’s kinda cool though. I mean no one ever gets to see what they really look like, live and in person.” He shrugged. “So I guess just enjoy it while you can.”

With that, Fenton intended to settle back into his covers again, until he realized he had to pee. Groaning he sat up. “I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

With a nod from the ghost, the human stood up and walked to the bathroom at the end of the lite hallway. After doing his business, he returned to find a note on his door. Fenton raised an eyebrow and skimmed the paper, apparently a note from his parents.

Still holding the note, he turned the hallway light off. “Why do they always have to leave that stupid light on?” He grumbled. “It always shines right into my room.”

With a sigh, Fenton closed the door and made his way back to the bed. Then he addressed the ghost who was still floating where he left him. “So apparently we have the house to ourselves. Jazz is staying at a friend’s house so they can carpool to the SAT tomorrow. And Mom and Dad went ghost hunting, said they’d be back by 3.” He glanced at the clock. “It’s midnight now and I’m not that tired. So do you want to…..” He trailed off, finally taking in Phantom’s serious expression and his silence. Fenton frowned. “Something’s bothering you.”

Phantom’s eyes widened at the statement. He gaped. “No. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

The human raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah. Everything will be okay. You can just go back to sleep.” Phantom tried to brush him off.

Fenton huffed. “I’m definently not going to be able to sleep now so let’s just talk about it.”

Actually coming down to sit in the chair, Phantom shook his head. “I...I don’t...we shouldn’t. It’s not a good idea...” He bit his lip, lingering in silence for a long pause. Then the ghost sighed and his voice turned down into a barely audible whisper. “I don’t want to re-fuse.”

Fenton’s eyes widened. “You mean like not right now? Cause we don’t have to do it right now.”

“No.” Phantom shook his head more forcefully. “I don’t want to re-fuse...at all.” Fenton’s expression turned hurt. Phantom...Phantom couldn’t actually mean that, could he? At the distressed expression, Phantom’s speech quickened. “I mean, I’m not going to run off or disappear on you. I promise I’ll stay by your side. And we can still hang out together, with Sam and Tucker. We can play video games and stargaze and do a bunch of the other stuff we like. And...and we’ll figure out how to...exist like we are now. How to be friends or family or whatever we are now. And….and you can have your normal life, like you’re supposed too, like you want.”

The speech slowed to a stop, with Fenton still gaping. Finally, after a small eternity he spoke. “I’m sorry. You don’t….you don’t want to re-fuse?”

The ghost nodded, looking down to avoid his human’s eyes.

“How can you NOT want to? You….you can’t be okay with just being like….this for the rest of….how ever long?!” Fenton gripped his hair.

“No. I don’t like it but….. It’s just not a good idea.”

“How is re-fusing, us going back to the way we’re supposed to be, not a good idea?!”

“It’s just….you...you won’t understand.” Phantom wrung his hands.

At that Fenton practically leapt out of the bed. He stopped, not a foot from the ghost and leaned down slightly so the two were face to face. “What do you mean I won’t understand?”

At the sudden closeness, Phantom leaned back, then flickered intangible. “You...you just won’t.”

At the ghost’s reaction, Fenton stepped back. He could feel himself getting tense, getting angry but that wasn’t going to work here. He took a deep breath, his expression softening. “Phantom. Danny.” Slowly the ghost met the human’s eyes, returning to tangibility. Fenton offered his hand. “Just...just sit with me and talk. Please. Can you do that?”

Uncertainly, Phantom took the hand. A small spike of sadness and fear came through the contact before the ghost clamped down on the emotions. The two walked to the bed. Fenton took a seat cross-legged across from Phantom who did the same. Phantom pulled his hand out of the human’s, planting his hands in his lap.

Fenton sighed and then finally spoke. “Can you explain it to me?”

“What?” Looking up, Phantom tilted his head.

“Whatever I’m not getting, not understanding. Clearly you’re seeing something that I’m not for some reason. So please explain it to me?”

The ghost shook his head, biting his lip.

“Danny, please. I want to understand.” The human’s face softened. “You don’t have to be afraid to tell me.”

“You’ll….you'll react badly.”

“No, I won’t. I promise I’ll understand and I won’t get mad. How could I? I’m literally you. We’re the same person.”

Sighing, Phantom fixed his eyes on his lap. “But we’re not.” He whispered.

Fenton’s eyes widened and he tried not to groan. “Please, not again. I thought we were passed this.”

Phantom clenched and unclenched his hands nervously. “We are, it’s just…..” He blew out a breath. “You’re human and I’m…..not. You’re normal, like we’re supposed to be. But I’m….a ghost.”

“Okay…..?” With one raised eyebrow, Fenton frowned. “But we’re still on the same page though. We’re both Danny.”

“Yes we are.” The ghost agreed flatly. “ But are you listening to me? I’m a ghost.”

Fenton sighed, struggling to remain patient. “Phantom. I get that, I do. But what does it have to do with anything?”

“It has to do with everything.” Phantom answered as if it was the most obvious thing.

The human felt his own frustration rising. “But how? You’re still not making any sense.”

“How am I not making sense? I am a ghost. Literally. With all the glowing, floating, turning invisible….stuff. And I don’t just look like a ghost. I AM a ghost.” He carefully emphasized the words.

Fenton gripped his hair. “Okay! But why do you not want to re-fuse?”

“I’m dead.” Phantom’s (forced) calmness contrasted sharply with the weight of the statement as Fenton felt his heart stop. The ghost’s mouth snapped shut and he curled in on himself, as if trying to look smaller.

After a few moments, Phantom finally spoke. His eyes fixed on his lap, his voice whispered. “That’s what has to happen for you to be a ghost. You have to die. I’m...I’m the part of us…..” He finally looked at his human. “The part of YOU that died in the portal.”

He gaped, taking in his ghost’s word but not processing. “So…..that’s….ummm.”

Phantom interrupted before Fenton could ever hope to respond. “Do you get why we can’t re-fuse now? I’m just like….this and there’s no way to fix it or make it better.” He shook his head and then fixed earnest green eyes on Fenton. “But you’re still human. You can still be safe and normal, just….without me.”

The human’s stomach fell at that. It felt too much like a rejection. “You...you can’t mean that.”

“I’m sorry.” Phantom bit his lip. “But it’s true. You’d be better off without me.”

The human’s lip quivered. “No. Phantom. Please.” He pleaded, slight panic in his tone.

Eyes widening, the ghost put his hands forward placatingly. “Hey. It’s okay. I promise I won’t leave you. I just...just want you to be happy and safe.”

Panic rising, Fenton held out his arms. “How am I supposed to be happy like this?! Without you?!”

“You don’t need me.” Phantom stated, voice deceptively calm.

“Yes I do.”

“No. You don’t.” Just a tinge of frustration entered Phantom’s voice.

“Yes I do. You’re literally me!” Fenton pleaded. How could Phantom be saying this?

“I know that!” The ghost’s fists balled ever so slightly.

At the affirmation, Fenton’s jaw fell. His own annoyance flared “Then why are you still denying me?! I need you.”

“Stop saying that, please.” Phantom’s voice shook slightly.

The plea for silence pricked Fenton’s heart painfully. But he pressed on. “You’re my ghost, my other half.”

“Danny please.” The other closed his eyes, as if it would prevent him from hearing the truth.

But if he could just get his other half to listen… “We are literally two halves of one whole.”

“Fenton stop.”

“NO!” Something in the human Danny snapped. “I’m half a person without you! How are I supposed to be happy without the other half of my soul?!”

“You don’t actually want me!” And just like that, the previous fire in Fenton died as his blood turned cold. In a flash, Phantom rose off of the bed and bared his teeth. “You just want to feel whole!” The ghost’s aura brightened as the temperature suddenly dropped. The room crackled with ghostly energy, stealing the human’s breath. “I remember what we thought about our powers before the ghost catcher. I’m a sickness, a disease. Some...some foreign thing that’s been haunting you.”

"No that's not… " Fenton tried to deny but Phantom interrupted.

"Yes it is! Don't you remember why we did this to ourselves?! You were scared and I get that. But you didn't even try to understand. You just wanted to...to get RID of me!" Phantom shook with pained anger, tears started to collecting in the corner of his eyes.

Something like guilt swirled in the human's heart. "No I didn't." He whispered.

"Yes you did!" Phantom practically screamed, a few tears falling. "You threw me away, Danny. And didn't even realize it, for days!"

“You didn’t either.” The human argued though the word felt hollow and passionless. “And why...why are you just directing this at me? We both decided to get rid of our ghost…..powers.” Eyes suddenly widening, human Danny cut himself off. He….he couldn’t….he didn’t….

Phantom’s biting words cut through the rising dread. “I am the ghost powers.” Though the ghost glared, his voice shook.

With that, Fenton curled in on himself and stared down, unable to meet ghost Danny’s eyes. Above him, Phantom suddenly plopped down on the bed. When the ghost spoke, his pained voice was quiet. “It’s not the ghost part of us that didn’t want to be a ghost.”

It was me. Fenton wanted to say but the words died in his throat.

“If we re-fuse, we’ll be right back where we started. With all that confusion, fear, disgust, and self hatred. With the unstable powers. I don’t want to live stewing in that. I don’t want you to live with that.” The ghost shifted awkwardly, shaking the bed. “And how long...how long until it’s too much and I get thrown away again?”

Feeling another stab to the heart, Fenton looked up. Then Phantom continued and his human’s heart broke.

“Or worse. You get Mom and Dad to find a way to get rid of me more permanently. More completely.” He wrung his hands, looking down. “That would probably kill you too but desperation makes people do stupid things.”

A glowing tear fell on the bed and Fenton reached forward. “Danny.” He whispered.

“Stop. Please.” Phantom’s voice broke.

“But-” The other boy’s own eyes started filling with tears.

“Stop! Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you?” His other half’s lip quivered. “You don’t want me. You CAN’T want me. So just stop.”

“Phantom. Please….this….we should…” Pale, ungloved hands reached again, grabbing the ghost’s arms.

Phantom wrenched himself out of the hold, as the human let out a startled yelp at sudden, physical pain from the glacial contact. But it only registered for a second. Instead he stared at the distraught ghost. “Just stop! Stop trying to comfort me!” The dripping tears turned into a stream. “I’m scum. A dirty, good-for-nothing ghost. I’m a freaking disease! I deserve to be hated so stop acting like you don’t!”

Now weeping, Phantom collapsed on his side of the bed, as far as he could get from his other half. Crystal tears froze on his face before melting as soon as they fell to the bed. Tears blurring his own vision, human Danny looked dumb-struck between his other self and his own cold-burned hands. He wanted to reach out, to comfort. But….

His heart clenched. He felt so helpless, so guilty.

Legs shaking he rose from the bed and stumbled towards the door. As he opened and walked through it, the volume of the sobs from the bed increased. The door closed and his heart shattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Barely able to see through his tears, Fenton stumbled down the dark hallway and into the bathroom. After closing the door, he slid down the wall and hunched on the floor. There he finally let out a sob. What….why? None of this….none of this made sense! How did he… how could he….Phantom….his ghost.

So much, so much had happened since the ghost catcher and then this. He couldn’t…..he didn’t understand. Except….except he did. He did. This made too much sense. It meant he was a horrible, awful person. His stomach flopped with guilt, the heavy emotion crushing him like many boulders. Like he was underground, surrounded by darkness and oppressive suffocating weight. He took a struggling breath, feeling completely helpless. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to do?! What could he do? Nothing Nothing. He was helpless, hopeless, so guilty.

Tears poured down his face as his body shook with sobs. Unable to stay sitting, Fenton collapsed onto his side on the floor. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be. No. It wasn’t no way. His mind felt fuzzy with sudden exhaustion, the outside world seeming far away. Maybe this was a dream. Yeah, all this since the stupid accident had to be a dream, since there was no way this was his life.

He rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in the rug. More tears streamed as his nose stopped up. The stupid portal, the ghost powers, the ghost weeping on his bed. None of that could be real. He had to be dreaming. It was the only explanation. Because it couldn’t be real. Or you can’t handle that it’s real. A small dark part of him whispered.

He silently screamed. No No. This was just a dream and he just needed to wake up and everything would be okay again. Chest heaving with another sob, the boy rubbed his face against the rug again. The rug that wasn’t here, right? His head felt heavy, his mind fuzzy with thoughtless sorrow. He wept, drowning in everything until he drifted off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometime later, Fenton groggily returned to awareness. His face was on something fuzzy? He opened blurry eyes. This wasn’t his pillow. And was he on the floor? He blinked in the darkness and his heart fell, realizing where he was. He was still on the stupid floor of the stupid bathroom. The boy sniffled. He needed to get up.

Trying to get up off the floor, the human pushed his palms against the floor only to bite back a scream of pain. Shaking hands returning to his field of vision, his eyes widened at the red, blistered flesh. A cold burn from touching Phantom. Meaning….

Oh shit, oh shit. No No No NO This was real. This was real. The portal, the powers, Phantom. His ghost, HIS ghost was real. Phantom was real and weeping on the bed because Fenton had….he had….. The boy could hardly bear the thoughts. That he had messed up everything!! Everything! He was such a screw up. And everything was shit, and it was his fault. What am he going to do? He cried harder.

But….but his hands hurt so much, distracting him from the self-deprecating thoughts. He fixed his gaze on the blistered hands and struggled to sit up. With some grunts and hisses of pain, he managed a sitting position. The boy hunched over, snot threatening to drip down his face. Why did his hands hurt?! Why did everything hurt? Why was any of this happening?

He hissed at the burns. Phantom, his ghost had hurt him by accident, burning him as his powers lashed out in emotional turmoil. And….and he had hurt Phantom too. Except that was on purpose, a small vile part of his mind accused. No, no. It wasn’t. It wasn’t. How was he supposed to know this would happen if he tried to get rid of his powers?! He couldn’t have known. He didn’t know.

Except….did that matter, that he hadn't known? What Phantom said he thought of his powers was true. He’d been terrified and disgusted by the ‘infection’ trying to overtake him. He hadn’t even tried to understand. He was too absorbed in, held hostage by his darker emotions. So he decided to treat his ghostliness as a foriegn thing, something easy to fear…..or even hate. He was such a horrible person.

Danny, the human, shivered at that thought, trying to push it away. But Phantom’s green eyes haunted him. First accusing and angry…..then broken and tortured. Eyes that, though a different color, were the same shape as his. It hurt to be yelled at and accused by his own voice. To have the truth expounded so forcefully by someone with his face.

But….that wasn’t it, not really. Phantom’s eyes, Phantom’s voice, Phantom’s face weren’t HIS. They didn’t belong to the person thinking this thought as if the appearance was borrowed or even shared. They were really, truly, completely Phantom’s eyes, voice, and face.

The realization brought no joy, no relief. Putting his head down, he wept.

Then something green flashed in the mirror above the sink, just in the periphery of his vision. The boy sat up quickly. Had….was Phantom….had his ghost self come back to talk to him? Shakily, Fenton stood up. Only to meet his own glowing green eyes in the mirror. Phantom’s eyes. The human closed his eyes, blocking the view.

Fenton sighed. Those were Phantom’s eyes in the mirror but what was Phantom other than a name, an alias? Something his ghost self decided to call himself when he’d been confused, terrified, and in pain. Something meant to make everything a little more bearable. Those green eyes were just Danny’s eyes. And he, Fenton, was Danny. Phantom, the ghost in the bedroom, was Danny. And the two of them, Fenton and Phantom together, were the two parts who made up the whole, complete, real Danny.

Fenton had said and thought all of this before, when he and Phantom first talked in their bedroom and even earlier that very night. But he didn’t really understand it until right then. And understanding hurt because it meant all of what his other self said was true. He’d feared, hated, and disowned a part of himself. He’d allowed himself to be violated, to be ripped apart. No, not allowed. He’d done it on purpose. Danny deliberately had thrown himself away.

No wonder his ghost self was in such pain. All of those feelings directed at him and his other half hadn’t even apologized.

Finally Danny Fenton opened his eyes. He frowned, feeling slightly sad that the glow had receded. But that connection to his ghost self still burned strong. Phantom was still crying on the bed but he had been crying long enough. The two of them needed to talk. But would Phantom listen? And if he did, could he forgive himself?

Sighing Fenton looked down at his hands….which weren’t hurting anymore. His eyes widened. Though pale, raised scars remained, the blisters were gone. Phantom had inadvertently hurt him but the wound had healed. And over time, even if the scars never faded, Danny would forgive and forget that he ever hurt himself. His lip turned up, even so slightly, feeling something like... hope.

Wiping his face, the human steeled his courage and then turned away from the sink. He closed the door to the bathroom. It was time to have this conversation with Phantom. Fenton wouldn’t allow the problem to fester anymore than it had. They would heal the rift between him and his ghost self. It was time to make things right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fenton stood in the doorway to his bedroom for several moments, watching the lump in his bed. While he had been in the bathroom, Phantom had huddled under the covers, facing away from the door. Had he fallen asleep too? The human sighed. Even if he had, it was time.

Quietly, Fenton closed the door and walked around the bed. The ghost remained motionless until the other Danny sat down. Eyes popping open, Phantom reflexively turned intangible, causing the covers to fall through him. Then he flickered invisible.

The human tried to produce a comforting smile but didn’t comment on the invisibility. Instead he focused on where he knew the ghost’s eyes were. “I’m sorry.” When no response came, he continued. “You were right about everything you said. I was afraid and disgusted so I did….I did try to get rid of you.” His voice cracked. “I messed up, a lot without realizing it. I hurt you a lot and I….I understand why you’re angry at me.”

Phantom shimmered into visibility. He looked down, avoiding the human’s eyes. “I get it….and I’m not really angry with you.”

“But you’re in pain. And I...I did that. I’m so sorry.” He wrung his hands, voice shaking. “And….I don’t hate you.”

The ghost raised an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

“No.” He said with certainty. “I was scared earlier, terrified even. But I don’t think I ever hated you. And I definitely couldn't now.”

“Why?” Phantom’s eyes shimmered with renewed tears. “Why don’t you hate me?”

Fenton trailed off into silence, not finding the words to voice his thoughts. Finally taking a deep breath, he laid down on the bed facing Phantom.

“What are you doing?” The ghost whispered, eyes widening.

“I have more to say. I need to know that you understand what I have to tell you.”

Phantom searched his face. Finally his expression softened. “Okay.”

“Do you remember earlier, when you said it was weird seeing me like this, from the outside?”

The ghost’s lip trembled. “I guess seeing me is weird too….”

Fenton cut him off. “It’s not about that. It is kinda weird but it showed me something important.”

“What?” Phantom’s brow furrowed.

“Danny.” Fenton breathed. “You’re just me. You’re not some monster, curse, or disease.” He chuckled, kindly. “You’re just me.” The confusion on his other self’s face slowly faded as he explained. “I’ve thought and said it before but I didn’t really understand until just now. But when I see you, I just see me.” His eyes soften. “You’re just the part of me that’s a ghost. And throwing you, that part of me, away was a mistake.”

“Really?” Phantom asked, hope mixed with skepticism.

“Yes. We….I was scared before and refused to even try to understand you. But….I’m not scared now. And I want to understand.” Fenton sighed. “I know it will be hard. You….being a ghost…. is new. And there’s probably so many things, so many changes, we’ve not seen, not even considered yet. So I know things will still be difficult and scary at times at least.” As his ghost half’s expression fell, the heaviness of the statement dawned on the other Danny. Offering a comforting smile, he added. “But I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I want to try. To be the person we’re supposed to be. Together.”

“Really because…..you don’t have to….we don’t….” The ghost trailed off, mesmerizing eyes staring into Fenton’s.

The human stared back without hesitation and again was struck by the impossibleness of the situation. To see this new part of himself like this. This part of himself that he rejected. But now this part of his soul was bared so openly, with thoughts and feelings about that rejection and a voice to speak to him.

A thousand questions and statements and emotions swam in Fenton’s head but one rose to the surface. Closing his eyes, the human gently rolled his head forward so his forehead rested on his ghost’s.

“I want you.” Danny’s human half whispered.

His ghost half voiced no reply but feelings drifted through the contact. Acceptance and contentment, ‘I believe you’ but without words.

Human Danny continued. “I want to understand YOU. To know YOU. To learn how to be US, with you.” He wasn’t sure whether the words were spoken aloud or in his head.

Thank you. His ghost offered clear gratitude and the other boy’s heart sang for joy. An image came to the human’s mind.

A grinning Phantom twirling in the sky. Whopping with joy, he dives.

The human grinned in kind at the vision from his ghost. He was not certain how but he knew, the figure wasn’t his ghost half alone, but both of them. The whole, complete Danny who was both human and ghost. The human half sent an image.

Himself, in human form, sneaking up on Sam and Tucker invisibly. He taps them, suddening turning visible with a shout. “BOO!” Tucker screams and Sam hits him playfully.

The two identical voices laughed. Then another image.

Phantom, eating a sandwich and smiling in obvious pleasure at the taste.

The human half can feel the ghost half smile brighter as the images come faster.

Fenton, It's raining outside. He turns intangible and the water just falls through him.

Phantom, asleep in a tree, his ghostly tail curls around the branch.

Fenton, playfully throwing a ball of green ectoenergy up and down.

Dozens of images of life as a ghost and a human. And of something in between. The ghostly in the human and the human in the ghostly. The human Danny couldn’t tell the origin, if they were from him or the other Danny. But it did matter. It. Didn’t. Matter. His soul sang, magnetized to its other half. His head felt fuzzy, his body tingly.

Phantom, floating in front of the portal.

Fenton, eating dinner with Mom, Dad, and Jazz.

Phantom sitting on the roof, watching the stars.

Fenton, laughing at the lunch table, with Sam and Tucker.

His smile widened, his own ghostly chill comfortably bathing his human body. The physical contact of the black-haired head and white-haired head both were magnifying and decreasing. Eyes still closed, he felt his ghost self inch closer but the bed didn’t shift.

Burger and fries at the Nasty Burger

Curiously watching a blob-like ghost in the park

Winning the next level of Doomed

Venturing through the portal, not to escape, but to explore.

In a space suit, setting feet on Mars.

Floating in space, bare and glowing like one of the stars

His heart beat and his blood rushed through his veins. His core pulsed and his energy sparked.

Family, Friends, Laughter, Hopes, Dreams, Love

Peace, Completeness, Wholeness, Unity

But…..

Sadness, Fear, Doubt, Pain

Mom and Dad catching him in ghost form. They shoot him and lock him in a cage. “It’s me! It’s Danny. Please. You have to believe me!” He tried to turn back. Why can’t he turn back?!?!

With a gasp, both Danny’s jolted away from each other. Blinking, the human Danny’s vision struggled to clear. Why couldn’t he see his other self? Then the boy realized nothing was wrong with his vision. The ghost appeared translucent and mist-like, his head drooping sadly. The human’s eyes trailed the insubstantial figure, noting how their galaxy-patterned bed sheets were visible through the body. Fenton’s eyes slowly widened as he took in the ghost’s tail. Then the human’s eyes popped open as his glaze covered the end of the appendage. It was phased into the human half’s abdomen, the mistiness of the ghost’s form distorting the human’s view of his legs so he couldn’t tell where one body began and the other ended.

“Did we….were we just….?” Human Danny whispered.

Staring in awe, his gaze flickered between his own stomach where he and his other half had drawn together and to the face of his ghost. The human then shivered, more feeling than seeing Phantom draw away from him. His misty form condensed as his tail reformed and then split into legs. He floated off the bed and into a sitting position above it.

Shoulders shaking, Phantom finally looked at him. His voice broke. “I thought you wanted to re-fuse.”

The human frowned, slowly sitting up. He had…..and they had been doing that, becoming one but stopped. Why? Then he remembered. That fear, Mom and Dad capturing them, hurting them. And it pricked his heart. Somehow Fenton knew he had been the one to offer up that nightmare.

Phantom eyed the door as if planning to bolt. In a moment, this brought Fenton’s attention back to him. With hardly a thought, the human leapt forward and clung to his other half. He buried his face in the other’s shoulder. The ghost gently pushed him away.

“I thought…..you said you wanted me. But you pushed me away.” The tone wasn’t angry but broken, profoundly hurt.

Fenton’s own expression reflected Phantom. After being so close, every emotional injury hurt double, from both ends. But the human pushed away the pain. He put a hand on his other half’s shoulder.

“I do. I promise I do. But…..” He bit his lip. “What about Mom and Dad?”

His other half’s eyes widened, voice trembling with fear. “If we merge and they find out…..”

“We’ll have to hide it from them.” The human frowned, hating that option. He imagined going back to before the ghost catcher, being afraid of Mom and Dad’s weapons, cringing as they talked about experimenting on ghosts. He remembered being Phantom as Mom and Dad chased and shot him. He imagined them capturing him in ghost form and locking him in a cage. Fenton shook his head. “No. no. We can’t. No”

For a split second, Phantom’s eyes flashed with hurt; Fenton felt his doubt as the ghost thought he was refusing to merge again. But then he understood. “We can’t live like that, with Mom and Dad hating us.”

Fenton shook his head. There was no solution. Except…..Mom and Dad loved their son. And they had believed him about his ghost powers the first time so….

“What if we told them before we merged?” Fenton asked.

Phantom floated back, startled. “What?!”

“If we don’t then, we’ll have to hide after. They could hurt us without even realizing.”

“So you want to tell them when we’re separated so they can hurt me now instead!?” Phantom sneered, a mixture of hurt and reigniting anger.

Fenton’s jaw dropped. Did his other half still think so little of him? “No! Course not. I won’t let them hurt you.” Phantom’s offended expression vanished, though he remained tense. “I won’t let them hurt you. But if we tell them who you are now…..”

“They won’t believe us.” Phantom frowned, shaking his head.

“We’ll make them see.” Fenton argued. “We need to come clean now. If we don’t everything will build and when they do find out, they’ll either hurt us badly or our relationship will be ruined. But we can make them understand now.”

The ghost bit his lip. “How?” With wide green eyes, the ghost pleaded, his tone somewhere between hope and scepticism.

“We’ll get Sam and Tucker to vouch for us. And we’ll tell them everything. We’ll make them see. They’ll….they’ll believe me.” They have to. Fenton swallowed.

Phantom scrutinized him for a moment. Then his expression softened. “I trust you. We’ll call Sam and Tucker….and talk to Mom and Dad in the morning.”

Just then, both boys turned their heads towards the window at the roar of an engine. The Fenton RV pulled into the drive away. “Speak of the devil.” Phantom quipped, joylessly

The human rolled his eyes. “Mom and Dad are home, I guess. You should probably get going though. We’ll plan in the morning. Okay?”

“Yeah” The ghost's shoulders fell.

Expression softened, his human stood up. “Hey Danny.” He crossed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around Phantom.

“What are you doing?” Phantom asked with no bite.

The human offered a slightly playful smile. “I think Jazz would say, I’m embracing a new side of myself.”

“You’re a dork.” Phantom quipped flatly.

“WE’RE a dork.” Fenton chuckled.

“Yeah” Phantom’s voice softened as he returned the hug. “I guess we are.”

With a soft wave of fondness (Fenton couldn’t tell if it was his or his ghost’s, not that it really mattered), Phantom let go. Turning invisible, he phased through the ceiling.

#Danny Phantom #Face To Face #My fic #angst #Ghost Catcher

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bennguinfest · 6 years ago

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Spring 2019 Fan Fest Prompt List

Hey fan-festers!

We’re happy to say that we received 81 prompts this time around, and we spent the last few days distilling all those amazing and creative prompts down to a list of 63 prompts! (If you’re keeping count, that’s far more than last year’s 48!)

As with last year, we had some repeat prompts and prompts that were similar enough that it made sense to condense them under one item. Additionally, most of the prompts we distilled down to a few words for the sake of having a concise list! Again, like last year’s fest, we’re providing the full text of the original prompts under the cut, in case you’re looking for more details to get started!

You’re free to create any kind of fanwork based on the below prompts! There’s no minimum word count and no rules on what to create, or even how many - if you want to combine prompts, that’s cool! If you’re called to make more than one thing, that’s awesome too! The only limit is that this fest runs from now until April 15th - so if you’re creating something, make sure you post it and tag it with #bennguinfanfest so we can share it to this tumblr! If you’re posting to AO3, the collection is now open for submissions as well, so make sure to include your work there so everyone can find it!

One final thing: even if you didn’t submit prompts, feel free to participate and join us on the discord! We’ve set up a discord server here: bennguinfest on discord to stay connected, inspire each other, and have fun! It’s a great group and really active, so don’t be shy!

That’s it! On to the prompt list!

Matchmaking dogs

Space AU

Birthday gifts

Coming out/being together in the NHL

Acting like a couple (but they’re not actually a couple)

Tyler as a WAG

Transported to a parallel universe

Abducted by aliens

Superhero/Superpowers AU

Amnesia from an injury

Soulmate AUs: Color-based, name-on-wrist

Thirst follow/Met online

Drag AU

Time loops

Alternate histories

Cop AU

Reality show AU (Survivor, the Bachelor, Married At First Sight)

Jamie Poppins/Single dad AU

Supernatural races (vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, etc.)

Omegaverse: Courting

Delivery boy/Uber driver AU

Tyler gets traded back to Boston

Breaking up & making up

Omegaverse: Bonding drama

Boring office desk job

Road trips

Protective Jamie defending Tyler

College/University AU

Tyler tries to be Jamie’s wingman

Lites’s comments affecting the boys

Taking care of a sick hockey player

Cuddle pile/team bed fic

Harry Potter AU

Fire alarm meet-cute

DnD/Hockey Mashup

De-aged after a fight

Bakery/Tattoo Artist AU

Friends with benefits - and then with feelings

Zombie AU

Homeless AU

Nerds are hot/competency kink

Omegaverse: scents

YouTube channel AU

Bridal shop meet-cute

Beard appreciation

Tornado warning

Figure skater mpreg

Self-conscious Jamie

Wing!fic

Winning the cup and a kiss on the ice

Lifeguard AU

Haunted farm

Animal daemons

Surprise/sudden parenting

Jealousy from dating/flirting with someone else

Secret relationship and almost getting caught

Long-lost childhood friends

"Come here."

“Close the door.”

“I feel like I can’t breathe.”

“It’s three in the morning and you want me to do what?”

“You could’ve died.”

“I thought you were dead.

Full text of the prompts under the link! If you have any questions, feel free to send us an ask - and as always, happy creating!

1. Matchmaking dogs: Tyler’s dogs want to get their human with a certain cow-eyed captain

“well this is really awkward considering the last time we saw each other, i was screaming at you to never talk to me again, but like, my dog recognized you all the way across the park and literally dragged me over here because she misses you so hi” AU

2. Space AU (ex. Star Trek, Firefly, or something else entirely)

3. It's Tyler's birthday and at first Jamie gives off the feeling that he's forgotten and this hurts Tyler but it turns out that that Jamie wakes Tyler up at midnight on his birthday with two tickets to an offseason trip

4. I want a fic that REALLY captures what it would be like if two NHL players were to come out in 2019. I'm talking teammate reactions, press reactions, social media, family, the whole shebang. I wanna see the real raw reactions and the struggle the guys would have to go through. I would also loooove if you could fit Jamie proposing to Tyler in there somewhere but it isn't a necessity.

Jamie has a hard time dealing with how public Tyler’s life is, with the insta stories and with random people filming him all the time. It feels like it’s only a matter of time before their relationship is exposed because of how much Tyler is in the public eye. Jamie doesn’t want to break up but it seems like that’s the only choice he has. He doesn’t want to do this so much that he calls a press conference and comes out of the closet.

Jamie and Tyler have been dating since 2014 and he’s tired of hiding it. So with Jamie’s consent he posts a cute photo of them being a couple and writes a heartfelt monologue about their story. And the whole hockey community blows up about it. And it’s kinda about how they deal with being and out couple and Tyler posting obnoxiously cute couple photos on his Instagram. Sorry this prompted is a mess I just want Tyler to be a troll and post cute cliche couple photos on Instagram of him and Jamie and the world loading their minds about it.

Jamie and Tyler come out to the team about them dating. Management wants to keep their relationship secret so they make Jamie fake date someone. And him and Tyler struggle with the stress that puts on them.

realistic consequences of being together with the team

5. Tyler and Jamie are super close but super oblivious to the fact that they act like a literal couple. Jamie has a gf and she hates the fact that it seems like Jamie cares more about Tyler than he does her.

6. Fluffy fic where Jamie still plays hockey, he meets tyler and they fall in love and tyler becomes an nhl wife/husband/boyfriend.

7. Parallel universes -- somehow Tyler (or Jamie) finds himself in an alternate universe where his life is radically different (for better or for worse) which makes him realize how much his relationship to Jamie (or Tyler) means.

waking up in the future/alternate reality fic

8. Jamie and Tyler are abducted by aliens and taken to a faraway planet where they are prisoners in a bizarro planet. Is it real or is it a nightmare though?

9. jamie and tyler are in danger and major trouble when their identities as superheroes are revealed and bad guys are after them.

powers/mutant AU (as in pick one, not all at the same time) One hides their ability from the other, and when the other finds out, its...not good

Superhero AU! Are they superhero partners? Is one of them a superhero and can't date the other because he has to keep him safe? Are they both trying to keep their secret identities secret from each other while simultaneously dating in both iterations? Up to you, or anything else!

10. Amnesia angst for the win - Jamie gets a particularly hard hit, wakes up and can remember everyone except for tyler (maybe not explicitly, say they can *remember* them, but not remember that they've been dating for eight months now) cue tyler avoiding jamie because its too hard him to be around him

11. soulmate au! people are born with blackmarks - on their hands, their faces, their skin in general - the black marks is the first place their soulmate would touch them. Jamie was born without a mark. Tyler was born with two pitch black palms. Years after tylers been traded to the stars, Jamie falls asleep, and tyler can't help but run his fingers through Jamie's hair, just once, and then he looks down at his hand and the tips of his fingers are colored, and so are the few strands of Jamie's black hair.

Soulmate au- either abo or name on wrist. No drama, just fluff!

12. Tyler thirst follows Jamie on insta. This can be hockey or non-hockey, but Jamie follows back and they start talking.

13. Rupaul’s Drag Race au. Tyler and Jamie are competing against each other but are constantly talking about how much they like each other/are attracted to each other in the confessional. They’re both single, so why not go for it? Alternatively, one is a queen and the other is a member of the pit crew.

14. groundhog day au (aka, tylers/jamies day keeps getting reset, again and again until they get together finally and wake up the next day)

15. alternate history, tyler is never traded to dallas, but they still somehow meet and fall in love anyway

16. cop AU, where in tyler the rookie transfers and get stuck with Jamie the sorta senior to show him the ropes. Jamie gets attached. And that’s...a problem, in their line of work. Or at least it is for him.

17. Survivor au- same or different tribe, as long as they’re the “showmance”

"The Bachelor" AU

Married at first sight au- either within the parameters of the actual show, or they literally get married the day they meet

18. Jamie!Poppins - tyler is a single father with a new baby and no clue of what he's going to do. enter Jamie Poppins!

19. Minotaur Jamie

The Dallas Stars are a pack of werewolves, and Tyler is the vampire that’s been traded to their team.

Shifter verse!! and ive got nothing else for this other than wanting to see tyler as a tiny lab puppy pls and thanks

20. Alpha Tyler and omega Jamie: “usually when I meet an omega I wanna bone, but with Jamie I wanna fucking hold his hand and feed him bonbons all day, what the fuck”

21. Jamie the delivery boy. Kay hear me out. Like he keeps delivering huge quantities of food to this particular house and it always seems like there should be more than one person. But there’s not. And Tyler orders. All. The. Time. Hopeful it’s jamie. But they’re both too dumb to ask each other out. Lots of pining

Uber driver! Jamie picks up Tyler from a one night stand

22. Tyler gets traded back to Boston AU - Everything hurts and nothing is okay. (except that at least one of them is retiring at the end of the season so it's actually more okay than they think) (also a future fic)

23. breakup and makeup but spanning over seasons - no cheese plots

24. Bond drama (abo) either they bond too quickly, like at the all star game or something and dont know ehat to do because theyre on different teams, or they really want to bond and its not happening as fast as they think it should

25. Boring office desk job

26. road trip to Montreal to visit Jordie

27. while out chilling at a bar celebrating a win, jamie and tyler are having a couple of drinks and when jamie gets up to go the bathroom, a drunk stranger and a couple of his friends decide to harass Tyler, upsetting him. A furiously protective Jamie intervenes and despite holding his own, Jamie is beaten up and him and tyler end up in a dumpster.

28. A University fic where Tyler is out and proud and gay and Jamie is still trying to figure out his sexuality but he's having a hard time. No homophobic Jamie tho please, just a guy trying to figure himself out. Would love if he would rely on his family throughout the fic for advice.

I’m always a sucker for college au, or masters/PhD students etc

COLLEGE AU BECAUSE WE ALL NEED MORE OF THAT IN OUR LIVES

'the cops showed up to a party we were at and chased everyone away. You and I happened to run in the opposite direction of all our friends and got lost in some dark and creepy street.’ - College AU

29. Tyler finds out Jamie is gay (outed/comes out/whatever you prefer) and embarks on a wild but good-intentioned quest to find Jamie his perfect man.

30. Tyler is hurt by Lites' comments more than one thinks and Jamie is worried when he sees Tyler crying in private.

31. sickfic? jamie taking care of tyler is- like just how pathetic is a sick hockey player?

32. team bed au omg someone pls

33. Harry Potter au but not as high school student, just something in the magical world

34. "3am and the fire alarm in our apartment building went off and you look cold here is my jacket"

35. Hockey AU but they’re all dnd races. I would love to see half-orc Jamie, and goliath Bishop, and tiefling Tyler. Please be as creative as you want with this!

Hockey AU where instead of going out, a core group of guys plays dnd in their hotel rooms while on the road. Tyler and Jamie’s characters are getting flirty in game, and it’s starting to translate outside of it as well.

36. Tyler and jamie fight - a *big* fight, and the next day Jamie suddenly got a deaged tyler on his hands and no idea how to fix it

37. Jamie owns a bakery and tylers the new tat artist next door plsplspls gimme that slow burn bullshit with this one

38. ty/jam used to have a whole friends w benefits thing that went oh-so-wrong because one (or both of them) caught feelings—as one does—and the fic is kind of that aftermath and trying to repair the broken relationship.

39. ZOMBIES

40. Homeless AU w/tyler

41. Tyler is smarter than he leads people to believe, and Jamie is into privately nerdy Tyler

42. Abo verse surrounding scents. Tyler smells like the most delicious thing Jamie has ever smelled, but he thinks he shouldn’t bond with a teammate

43. Youtube channel

44. Designer and single friend of client at a bridal shop AU

45. Beard appreciation

46. a tornado warning hits dallas and everybody is ordered to seek shelter. jamie follows tyler back to his house and hide in the basement with the dogs, frantic and terrified.

47. Tyler is a figure skater, Jamie still plays hockey. They meet and fall inlove but whoops tyler ends up pregnant. The world still isn't 100% accepting of LGBTQIA+ people and even less accepting of men getting pregnant. Tyler feels down at some point cause he has to put his career on hold. but it all ends up great in the end.

48. Jamie feels self-conscious about his ass after some chirping from opposing players and it's up to Tyler to comfort him

49. Wing!fic

50. They win the Stanley cup and kiss at centre ice

51. Jamie's a lifeguard. They meet after Tyler basically drowns himself. (It's not an excuse to have Jamie kiss him. Its *not*.)

52. Haunted farm au- Tyler is a witch that lives on a farm where extremely weird things happen. He ends up rescuing Jamie and Jamie pledges his services for one year in exchange for his life. During that year, they fall for each other hard, but there are outside forces in the farm trying to keep them apart.

53. Animal daemons

Goose daemons

54. Marshall, Cash and Gerry turn into human kids (temporarily or not), Bennguin handle being sudden parents

55. Tyler having a serious boyfriend for a while and Jamie is jealous because he wants to date Tyler but he’s not ready to come out. And he’s also upset because everyone is taking it so well and nothing has changed and he realizes he really missed out. But in the end they still get together.

56. secret relationship and how they almost get caught - many many times

57. Childhood pen pal / long distance childhood friends?

58. "Come here."

59. “Close the door.”

60. “I feel like I can’t breathe.”

61. “It’s three in the morning and you want me to do what?”

62. “You could’ve died.”

63. “I thought you were dead.”

#bennguin #bennguinfanfest #bennguin fan fest #hockey rpf

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seedotsam · 6 years ago

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Day 5 Promises TodoDeku Week: Vows

Written for: @tododeku-week

You Can Find in on Ao3: Here

He couldn’t believe it. The day he has been anticipating has finally come. The weather was perfect too. Sunny with barely any clouds. A nice soft breeze flowed through once in a while keeping everyone from becoming overheated. The decorations came out beautifully too. Thanks to his friends from U.A. White chairs were lined perfectly within the garden. Green and white ribbon gracefully lining the backs of the chairs. Green and white lilies lined the aisle.

Everyone was dressed in their best. Even Bakugo was able to scrounge up a suit. No tie as always. He could hear everyone chattering with excitement. Everything was just too perfect. What if he messed up? What if he embarrassed not only himself but also Izuku? He started to fidget with his bow tie, not being able to calm his nerves.

“Todoroki, are you alright?” He jumped, breaking out of his dark spiral and turned to see his Best Ma-- er well Woman, Momo Yaoyorozu, looking at him with concern.

“I’m okay.” Shoto nodded with his normal reserved stare. Momo sighed knowing full well that he wasn’t okay.

“I’m sure you’re worried about making a fool of yourself up here. Most people are. Wedding nerves do that. It’s normal to feel that way. I know you want to give Midoriya the most perfect day, but he just wants you. I’m sure he would still be happy even if you both got married in a dump.” Momo was going for a laugh, but Shoto just nodded. He did, however, stop fidgeting. Lida walked up to the dais stopping by the pair.

“You ready Todoroki?” lida asked in his booming voice. Shoto, being used to his way of talking was unfazed.

“I’m fine. I just want to see Izuku.” lida nodded with a smile at Shoto’s words.

“Well, I think I am able to grant that wish. I just got word that everyone is ready.” With that lida swiftly turned to the crowd and yelled out, “Attention honored guests! Please take your seats. The wedding party please get into your places. We are about to begin!” Lida’s announcement caused Momo to laugh.

“Even though it’s been years, he’s still our class president.” Her words finally brought a smile out of Shoto. A small one, but still a smile.

Shoto’s face returned to its usual reserved self by the time the music started playing. Shoto froze as the melody began. This was it. It’s finally happening. He couldn’t believe it. This has got to be a dream.

Shoto saw Uraraka begin slowly walking down the aisle. Izuku’s Maid of Honor was dressed beautifully in green with a white sash around her waist. A small bouquet of green lilies and white baby’s breath in her hands. She soon takes her place at the front by lida. Shoto barely glanced at Uraraka. His attention was solely at the beginning of the aisle. All he wanted was to see Izuku. Shoto waited with baited breath.

Finally, Izuku appeared. Shoto felt like the wind was knocked out of him. Izuku was wearing a matching all white tux with pearl colored silk accents. A large bouquet of green and white tulips was held tightly between his hands. Izuku’s face was lite up. His emerald eyes shined brightly while a huge smile settled on his face. Walking him down the aisle was none other than All Might himself as well as Inko Midoriya.

Izuku’s own breath was caught. Shoto looked so handsome, even with his face impassive. He may not be showing it, but Izuku could see the love shining in Shoto’s eyes. Love for him. Izuku felt like his heart was going to burst. Walking to the front was taking an eternity. All he wanted was to throw himself into Shoto’s arms.

After what seemed like forever, he was finally standing next to the love of his life. Izuku handed his bouquet to Uraraka as he faced lida. lida gave the couple a smile before clearing his throat.

“Ladies and gentlemen! We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Midoriya Izuku and Todoroki Shoto. As most of you know, I have had the honor of knowing these two since high school and I could not dream of a better couple more suited for each other than these two. They have had their ups and downs, but they always helped each other through it. They never gave up on each other. I am so grateful and honored to have been chosen to be the one to marry them.”

Izuku started to tear up at his friend’s words. They made his heart feel even fuller. He definitely made the right choice in asking lida to be their officiant. Shoto mouthed “Thank you” to lida. He was also grateful for the man’s words and for his help with the wedding.

“In light of someone wanting the ceremony to be quick,” Izuku blushed bright red at lida’s words. The crowd chuckled in response. “We will be cutting straight to the vows. Shoto if you please.”

Momo handed Shoto Izuku’s wedding band. Izuku and Shoto turned towards each other. Shoto held Izuku’s left hand delicately. Izuku’s eyes widened at seeing the intensity of Shoto’s feeling shining through his grey and turquoise eyes.

“Izuku, I can’t always express myself very well. I used to always push everything down because I only felt pain. Then it became second nature to hide everything. I was haunted by my past. Meeting you was like a breath of fresh air. I felt like I could finally breathe again. You taught me that it was okay to be myself. That no one could dictate how I live. That I wouldn’t become a monster. You changed me and have made me so happy. When you first confessed to me all those years ago it felt like a dream. I didn’t think it was possible for you to return my feelings, so I hid them. I was okay with you just being in my life, but I am so happy you confessed that day, otherwise, none of us would be standing here today.” Shoto paused and gave Izuku his own smile while sliding on the ring.

“I love you Izuku. I trust you with my heart and soul. I plan to live out the rest of my days being the best husband I can be. Thank you, for loving me.” Shoto let out a shaky breath, his emotions overwhelming him. Izuku had tears streaming down his face, Uraraka quickly gave him a tissue. Izuku accepted gratefully.

“No fair,” Izuku hiccupped. “You know how easily I cry.” He squeezed Shoto’s hand before reaching for the left one. Uraraka took the tissue while handing Izuku the ring. Izuku took a second to regain his composure.

“Shoto,” he started. “I was so scared when I confessed. I didn’t want to lose you. We had been through so much together. We’ve fought side by side. You’ve help me grown. I wouldn’t be who I am today without you. I thought I would never have the chance again to confess once we graduated. I am so glad that I did. I’m so sorry that you didn’t feel good enough back then. I hope you do now. You deserve me, you deserve us, and most of all, you deserve to be happy. I promise to do everything in my power to shower you with happiness. I promise to always support you and be by your side. I promise to make sure you never feel haunted again. I love you Shoto. I’m excited to spend the rest of my life loving you.” It was Izuku’s turn to pause this time as he slid the ring onto Shoto’s finger.

“You thanked me for loving you, but I am the one who should thank you for loving me back.” There was no dry eye left in the venue. Even Bakugo was getting misty eyed. Shoto shook his head letting a few tears fall.

lida cleared his throat, his voice choked with emotion. “If anyone here has objections to these two getting married, speak now or forever hold your peace.” Silence reigned in the garden besides a few sniffles here or there. Izuku started to get antsy fidgeting in place.

“Since no one objects, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and husband!” Cheers erupted from the crowd as Izuku threw himself into Shoto’s arms. The kiss was perfect, even with all the tears streaming down their faces. They both felt so complete. Love and warmth continued to fill their hearts. This was the happiest day of their life. One they would never forget.

“Oi! You two bastards going to quit it or what? Some of us are starving and ready to party.” A voice yelled out from the crowd.

“Bakugo!” Momo chided. Izuku and Shoto broke apart laughing, their hands still connected. They turned towards their guests.

“Haha sorry, everyone! We got a bit carried away. You’re welcome to head down to the reception hall where food and the dance floor are already waiting for you.” Izuku announced. The guests let out a cheer. Kirishima and Kaminari were the loudest.

The newlyweds made their way towards the limo that was waiting for them. They quickly got in and shut the door behind them. They were happy to have a quiet moment to be alone together. Izuku snuggled up to Shoto wrapping his arms around Shoto’s waist.

“Was today what you hoped it would be?” Shoto asked affectionately.

“It was more.”

#tododeku week #fanfiction #my hero academia #day 5 #promises #todoroki shoto #midoriya izuku

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theemptyislost · 6 months ago

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Since this is taking so long, here is a snippet. (its unedited and still a rough draft)

#baldur's gate 3 #raphael the cambion #ao3 struggles #ao3 writer #haunt me verse bs #haunt me #my manic writing #beam me up smite me to the nine hells #its going to be trash - but its my trash so that's ok #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #haunt me ao3 LITE

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lilliavance · 7 years ago

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Old Singer House

This was done for @rosemoonweaver‘s Halloween challenge. I hope you all like it. I hope I properly warned. I will be posting it on AO3 later but I wanted to get it out there. Enjoy!

Warnings: Lose of infant, alcohol-abuse.

Year in and year out the old Singer house was a long time legend. Everyone before hitting middle school heard the word of it but nothing more until their first day. As the legend goes Singer's wife had a breakdown following the loss of their three-month-old daughter Fiona. Karen was sent to a hospital to help with her breakdown but the loss was too hard on her and with Bobby’s visits so few and far between she let the grief take her and only but four weeks from the breakdown Karen took her last breath. Bobby didn’t hear of her passing until a few months later due to his alcohol-induced unconsciousness. The story from there has many different endings but in the end, no one ever knew what happened to Bobby. But the House has always sat there with no one living there since.

Yes, there was every once in awhile the courageous teen to enter the home on the challenge to prove how brave they were. Many went in and few actually stayed for the duration. More than enough fled the house in terror. Although in the last ten years it was rarely visited the tale was still told.

Castiel had known the legend long before his middle school years thanks to his brother Lucifer who would tease him knowing that Cas had to walk by the house every day. He knew it was just to scare him and should just ignore it but the legend did shake him up. So every day he would do all he could to avoid the house after he had passed it his first day of school.

There was something about the long gravel road leading up to the cottage like house and on that day there was no breeze but as Castiel stood in front of the house, the leaves began to rustle and tumble down the driveway as the trees swayed. Castiel stood there in almost fear but broke from it by the hooking of a passing car. He quickly continued to school.

Even as Castiel got older he still avoided the house on his way to school. When his fellow classmates would begin to talk about the Singer house he would quickly leave. Some of his classmates began to catch up and try to avoid the subject but then there were those that would mention it on purpose. At times he would get teased by some of them how he was only one who hadn’t attempted to stay the night but luckily Castiel had his best friend Charlie who would bring it up that they hadn’t even done so either. Some would leave it be but others would still poke fun at it.

Finally, graduation had come and along with it his 19th birthday. Castiel couldn't be happier to be free of it all. Especially those who were stuck on teasing him about the old Singer house. It isn’t that scary anymore anyways, Castiel told himself. Apparently while with Charlie on his birthday he decided to repeat himself.

“Then let’s go.” Charlie stood up and pulled on Castiel’s hand.

“Now?” Castiel said a little in shock.

“Yes. Let’s go to old Singers for the night.” Charlie said with a huge smile on her face.

“Oh okay. Ya, let’s go.” Castiel hesitated to reply.

After nine years, Castiel once again stood in front of the Old Singer house. It was cold but to Castiel, the air seemed colder in front of the old house. Nothing seemed to have changed. Yes, the driveway looked like it was used but that could have been by anyone. Maybe some high school kids trying to have some privacy, Castiel thought because not everyone saw the house as haunted.

Startled by the sudden shove from Charlie, Castiel was brought back to reality, “Let’s go scaredy cat.”

Castiel chuckled a little “I’m not scared.”

“Then let’s go!” Charlie said with enthusiasm as she grabbed his hand and lead him down the driveway. Skeptical he follows her lead up the driveway and to the front door. It was partially open but that was a give in. Charlie without hesitation pushed the door open just enough to walk thru and she disappeared inside. Castiel hesitated until he heard the faint voice of Charlie “Come on in. It’s not so bad.”

Stepping thru the threshold he felt a weight come off his shoulders as if the fear was slowly melting away. There was still something uneasy about the energy in the house Castiel could not make out what but was too distracted by finding out where Charlie had run off to. Slowly looking thru the house to avoid anything from surprising him he felt a hand on his shoulder and about jumped out of his skin while spinning to see what it was.

“Omg Charlie! You almost gave me a heart attack.” Castiel exclaimed while he held onto his chest.

“Oh calm down. There is no one else here. Or is there?” Charlie tried saying in a menacing voice.

“Stop it.” Castiel pleaded.

“Okay okay. Let’s just look around then we can go.” Charlie stated.

“Okay real quick,” Castiel responded.

Walking thru the house it was semi-dusty, a majority of the furniture covered in plastic sheets, and what wasn’t looked as though it had been there for years. Everything was older but still in good condition from what Castiel could tell. He hadn’t left Charlie's side the entire time from fear of something happening. Walking down the hallway a distant sound accrued and without hesitation, Charlie was off and after it faster then Castiel could react and there he stood alone in the window lite hallway.

“Charlie?” Castiel whispered down the hall hoping not to draw attention from anyone or anything else. After a few minutes of silence, he finally decides to walk the way he believes Charlie went. The unknown of what was beyond the doorway was making him uneasy. Leaning against the wall next to the door jam Castiel took a deep long breath then went straight in but to his surprise, he did not meet an empty room. There he stood silently, staring into piercing green eyes that mesmerized him. After a few moments, the silence broke.

“What are you doing in my house?” The green eyes questioned.

Castiel startled, “Oh I ummm... I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” he responded to the guy standing before him.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!” A scream came from another door down the hall.

“Charlie!” Castiel yelled and rushed towards it and down the fleet of stairs.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Castiel asked examining her.

“Ya, I’m fine. I just saw a rat.” Charlie answered with a bit of a smirk, “Who is the hottie?” she said looking beyond Castiel.

“I’m Dean. This is my house. What are you two doing in here?” Dean asked.

“Oh, we didn’t know anyone lived here. No one has lived here in years. We came to face our fears. Huh, Cassie?” Charlie nudged Castiel and winked.

“Omg! Stop it, Charlie. Ya, we came to see what the fuss was about the Old Singer place. Did you just buy it?” Castiel asked.

“No. My uncle left it to me and I had to wait till I was at least 18 years old to take it over. So here I am.” Dean replied.

“Well, that’s nice. We should let you go then. Nice meeting you.” Castiel said quickly.

“Oh come on birthday boy why not offer him a hand I am sure he needs help.” Charlie pushed Castiel towards Dean.

“Oh, it’s your birthday?” Dean inquired.

“Ya, I turn 19 today. Nothing big. Would you like some company or a hand or something?” Castiel found himself mumbling on as he is once again lost in Dean’s green eyes.

“Ya, that sounds nice. I do have some more stuff to deal with and I could use the extra hand.” Dean smiled.

“Well, then it is settled. We are helping. Let’s go.” Charlie smiled walking up the stairs, “Come on you two you can eye fuck later.”

Both Dean and Castiel snapped out of the trance and headed upstairs redder than a tomato.

#rosesficoween #spn #dean/cas #charlie

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lesbiandanieljacobi · 7 years ago

Text

Sway With Me, Go Astray With Me

In which Mick Rory and Oliver Queen discuss feelings over pizza and L&P without ever actually saying the word feelings, and somehow it turns into porn (don't ask me how, it just does)

Totally NSFW / Read on AO3

Oliver's not entirely sure how this happened.

Okay, Oliver's entirely sure how this happened, he just doesn't want to admit it.

He flops back until he's laying flat on his back on the training mats and closes his eyes. They'd been working with the Legends on some Time issue of some description that Oliver hadn't really asked too many questions about, happy to play 'point and shoot' as required - after the explosion on Lian Yu, not bearing the burden of responsibility on occasion was very nice - when one of the men they'd been fighting had snarled something about Prometheus being right and doing right and Oliver had seen red and left a dead mess smeared on the concrete behind him. After his usual brow-beating from Felicity, both teams had fucked off to parts unknown to celebrate the successful completion of the mission, leaving Oliver to contemplate his apparent fuck-ups in solitude.

Someone clears their throat above him.

He opens his eyes to find Mick Rory standing there, pizza box in one hand and a six-pack in the other.

"You looked like you could use some company." he says. "And it's not like the Legends will notice I'm gone."

Oliver snorts.

"Then we're in the same boat, aren't we?" he says.

Rory grins, lopsided and companionable, and sits down next to him.

"Its pepperoni." he says. "And this is L&P - a soft drink from home." His shoulders bounce. "I figured simpler is better, and we shouldn't give them more ammunition by drinking."

Oliver snorts again. Rory's blunt. He likes that, in this moment. Rory squints for a second.

"Well, for them, read her. That was quite the lecture."

Oliver groans, and reaches for a drink.

"If you expect me to deal with that particular can of worms, I'd need actual alcohol."

Rory shrugs again, opening the box and sliding it between the two of them.

"Look, I hate talking about -" he makes a hand gesture that Oliver knows means 'feelings', "but you very clearly need to."

Oliver, now sitting and drinking what is an admittedly great bottle of something non-alcholic, shoots Rory a look that says 'fuck no'. In response, Rory drains half his bottle, and starts talking.

He tells Oliver about his family, their farm, the fire he started that had killed them, foster home after foster home of people who couldn't care for him, never being able to mourn in the way of his people. He tells Oliver about falling into crime and out of school, about arrests and Juvie. He tells Oliver all about Leonard Snart, the man he'd loved more than life itself, of Len at 12 and fighting for his life, at 16 and beaten black and blue for being gay by his father, of Len at 21 taking on the world, of Len at 26 in a cheap motel bed telling Mick that they'd get married as soon as it was legal, of Len at 32 helping Mick recover from the fire that scarred his body still, of Len at 40 with a flamethrower, of Len at 42 with a ring. He tells Oliver about Rip Hunter, and the Time Masters, and his time as Chronos - years and years of brainwashing and torture and emptiness, about what he'd done to Len, what Len had done to him, what the team had done to him after that. Oliver listens to most of it with a dropped jaw.

"I didn't - fuck - what the fuck are they doing?" Oliver says, when he's done. Mick - he's definitely Mick now, rather than Rory - shrugs.

"I told you mine. Now you tell me yours." he says.

Oliver groans, takes another drink, and then does. He tells Mick about everything, from the beginning. It's easier somehow, when he's just heard half the man's life story, to tell his own in return. He tells Mick about Laurel and Sara and the Queen's Gambit, about running from commitment, about his father pulling the trigger right in front of him, about Yao Fei and Shado and Slade (Slade, who he'd loved - not that he'd ever confessed that to anyone, except apparently Mick Rory and his uncommonly good listening skills and unfairly warm interchangeably colored eyes). He tells Mick about Ivo and Anatoly and Kovar and the totem and Constantine and working for the Bratva. He tells Mick about Waller and the Suicide Squad and Tatsu and calling Laurel just to hear her voice and emailing Tommy because he didn't know what else to do. He tells Mick about getting off the Island and coming home and the list and telling John and asking Felicity for help. He tells Mick about how good it was, at first, about Barry, good-intentioned and making him a mask that felt more like a he was wearing belief than material, about Isabelle, malicious and lost, and Tommy, breathing out love and blood and death in the ruins of CNRI, about watching Slade come back as a corrupted shadow of the man Oliver had loved, about his mother telling him and Thea to be strong.

He tells Mick about Felicity's moralizing, about trying to change himself. He tells Mick about Sara and Nyssa and Roy and the League. He tells Mick about dying to live, to save his city. He tells Mick about Thea's parentage and Sara's resurrection and Constantine's aid. He tells Mick about feeling like he couldn't be both Oliver and the Green Arrow. He tells Mick about trying to run away wth Felicity, about Laurel and her incredible journey, about what she meant to the city. He tells Mick about Darkh and Samantha and William, about a city that raised him up, about losing Felicity because they couldn't fathom who they had become. He tells Mick about losing Laurel, about how hollow he feels, about the recruits, about Adrian Chase and Oliver's own legacy coming back to haunt him, and Rory Reagan, and Evelyn's betrayal, about finding Dinah and finding Felicity again after Billy and then losing everyone only to get Slade back and then watch them all explode in a ball of flame only to get them back in ten minutes, of William, enrolled at a local private school. He tells Mick about the promise he's made to himself, one more time, about not letting anyone in because he can't bear to lose them.

"Shit, Robin Hood." says Mick, when he's done. "You need a shrink as much as I do."

Oliver finds himself laughing, for reasons he can't quite fathom.

"And then you need to stop letting Glasses run your life for you. Have you noticed how much she's changed you?"

"For the better." says Oliver, a little too quickly.

"I don't think so." says Mick. "It's not for the better if it's not coming from you. Look at Lenny and his dad."

They've finished both the pizza and their soft drinks, and they're both lying flat in their backs staring at the ceiling. Oliver turns his head to look at Mick.

"And you think it's not coming from me?"

"It's not." says Mick. "You're changing to be what she wants because you think that if you do you can make peace with a fuck ton of demons that have nothing to do with her. What do you want, Oliver Queen?"

Oliver has to think about it. No ones asked him that question about anything other than takeout orders in a very long time.

"I want to feel safe. And like I'm making a difference." he says, at length.

"Can you do that if you're bending over backwards to play Vigilante Lite for Glasses?" Mick asks.

"No?" guesses Oliver. He goes back at staring at the ceiling while he weighs up the evidence.

"No." he says, more authoritatively, when he's done.

"Does she make you feel safe?" asks Mick.

"No." says Oliver, marveling at his own denial. He sits up.

"There you go." says Mick, and pushes himself up on to his elbows. "You're allowed to not want to kill anymore, Arrows. Doesn't mean you can't, when you have to, or that you being upset when you do is wrong, either."

Oliver turns to look at him. He makes a fantastic view, sprawled back like this. And, now Oliver's thinking about it, he makes him feels safe. He's never told anyone about the Island. Not like this.

Oliver's still an impulse-driven person, at his core, and all his impulses are telling him he should kiss Mick Rory. So he does.

"Kissing me breaks the promise, remember?" says Mick, after he's shoved Oliver back by his shoulders, a good two minutes into what had been a very nice makeout session.

Right, the dumbass promise Oliver made to himself to not get caught up in anything romantic until he could be sure he could prevent anything like that explosion at Liam Yu from ever happening again.

"You can take care of yourself." he tells Mick, and moves in to kiss him again. Mick rocks back, just out of Oliver's reach.

"Seems to me like you need someone to take care of you, too." says Mick, obviously thinking back to everything Oliver has divulged in the last few hours. Oliver reddens a little, thinking of all the lovely things Mick could do if Oliver was just willing to give in, give over control just a bit.

Mick grins, and Oliver swears he can see flames dancing in his eyes. It's like he knows every filthy thought that is running through Oliver's head.

"Well, then, Robin Hood, are you gonna let me take control?" Oliver shoves Mick back until his broad shoulders are pressed flat against the mat they'd been sitting on.

"Call me by my fucking name." he hisses, and then kisses Mick again, hard and biting and digging his teeth in. They part again when Mick gets a handful of Oliver's hair that's mostly scalp and hauls him back.

"That wasn't a no, Ollie." Mick rumbles, smoothing his hand down until he's got a solid grip on the scruff of Oliver's neck. "Why don't you give me an actual answer?"

Oliver swallows and finds himself looking away, unable to meet Mick's gaze.

"That certainly looks like a yes, but I want to hear you say it." says Mick, turning his hand so he can use his thumb to tilt Oliver's head back, forcing him to meet his eyes. "You've gotta tell me you want it, Oliver."

Oliver's been the strong one for a very long time, unable to let somebody else take the lead - no one since Slade, on the island, has made him feel as safe as Mick is right now. There's something inherently comforting about knowing that Mick won't judge him for anything he's done, for anything he might do. There's no room for moralizing in Mick's world, no harsh call to the "light". It's - refreshing, when it comes down to it. It's been almost 10 years since Oliver's been able to not think, and hand it all over to someone else. It's about time he got to do it again.

"I want it." he says. "I want you to take over."

Mick runs his thumbs over Oliver's cheekbones and looks at him with something warm and soft in his eyes.

"You're something else." he says, and then rolls them so Oliver's underneath his weight, pressed back against the mat again, safe and safe and safe and safe. He shudders a little and presses up into Mick's body, arching his back enough to get a bit of friction. Mick grins again, all teeth, and shifts up so he's perched too high on Oliver's hips to give him anything to rub against, but just enough to take away any leverage Oliver might have.

"None of that, now. You'll get off when I say you'll get off, Kitten." Oliver shudders at the address. It's a pet name, something little and soft and warm and just for him, and he hasn't ever had someone use one of those with that level of warmth, not ever. Mick runs his hands up Oliver's chest, fingers tracing the dips between muscles, until he can rub this thumbs over Oliver's nipples. Fuck. Oliver's painfully aware of how loud his moan was, and he freezes under Mick's touch, unsure of how he'll react. Mick chuckles, low and gravel-rough.

"That was plenty loud, Kitten." he says, and rubs again, firm and pressing, and Oliver makes the same noise as the first time, even through his gritted teeth. Mick makes a tsk-ing sort of noise at that.

"There's no reason for you to stop." he scolds. "You can be as loud as you want for me." He starts rubbing in neat little half-arcs, causing Oliver to start twitching between moans, looking for anything to push his dick against.

"I'm just pleased I found something that gets you going that much." Mick tells him, plainly ignoring Oliver's aborted, useless thrusts. "I want to know all of those places, all the spots that make you shiver, every little thing that makes you hopelessly desperate for me."

Oliver shudders under the warmth in his voice, and doesn't fight when Mick stops his movements so he can gather Oliver's wrists up in one hand and pin them to the mat above his head.

"Look at you, Kitten." murmurs Mick. "So good for me, you're so good for me."

Fuuuuuuuuuck. Oliver whimpers a little, and Mick smiles again.

"There we go, you like that too, don't you?" Oliver nods, something little and jerky. "Shhhhh, Kitten, it's okay. Can you be good and keep your hands where I put them?"

"Yes." says Oliver, desperation sneaking into his voice. "Yes, I can -" He forces himself to stop before he says anything incriminating, but Mick notices the cut-off in his voice anyway. Fuck, he's so in tune with what Oliver's feeling, more so than anyone since Laurel.

"Hey, now," says Mick, catching Oliver's face in his hands before Oliver can look away. "Hey now, Ollie, what is it? What is it you wanted to say?"

Safe, says Oliver's brain. Safe, warm, just what you want. Better, it whispers, low and truthful. Better than the alternative, what you need. Tell him, it begs. Tell him and keep him and never let him go.

"Come on, Kitten, what was that you bit back to keep from me? Let me hear you." Oliver screws his eyes closed for a moment.

"I can do that, sir." Oliver whispers. When he opens his eyes again, Mick's looking down at him with a kind of fondness Oliver had lost hope of finding again.

"So good, Ollie." Mick croons. "You just leave them right there."

Mick takes his hands away from Oliver's face and his weight away from Oliver's hips for long enough to strip them both out of their trousers, and Oliver keeps his hands just where Mick put them. Mick hums with delight when he sees this, and kisses Oliver deep and long, blanketing Oliver's whole body with his own. He pulls back, at length, and smiles, stroking a hand through Oliver's shorn-short hair. And then, he moves, climbing his way up Oliver's body until he's straddling his shoulders. Mick pauses, for a moment, and reaches for his jeans, fumbling for something in the pocket. Oliver already knows what it will be, and finds himself delighted at the fact that Mick cares enough to have a condom on hand, just in case. God knows that Oliver hasn't, in the past. And his last partner -

Oliver wasn't going to think about Felicity. Not now. Not when he's so turned on he can hardly breathe and Mick Rory is straddling his shoulders and about to feed him his dick.

"Will you let me fuck that gorgeous mouth of yours, Kitten?" Mick asks, drawing Oliver out of his thoughts. Oliver nods, probably faster than he should have if he wanted to hide how much he wanted this. But he doesn't want to hide it - he wants Mick to know just how much he loves it, how much he wants it.

"Yes, sir, please, sir." Oliver says, because spoken consent appears to be key for Mick.

"If it gets too much, I want you to snap your fingers to tell me. Can you do that now?" Well, now Oliver's totally fucked. Mick's figured out that the easiest way to make Oliver's knees buckle is to go for his nipples and has full command of Oliver's praise kink, and now he's making sure Oliver can still tap out when he can't speak. Safe, safe, safe, chants Oliver's brain, and he snaps his fingers.

"Good boy." purrs Mick. "Now, open up for me." It's so easy, to just let go. Oliver's brain is only focused on two things - Mick's voice, and keeping his hands right where Mick told him they should stay.

"That's it, just like that, so good, look at you, taking everything I'm giving you." Mick says, slowly driving his hips forward and back. Oliver sucks when he can and licks when he can't and enjoys being used in the best way he knows. Mick doesn't stop talking, and it's working Oliver up more than dirty talk ever has before - probably because of the content.

"That's it, Kitten, keep going. You're going to look so pretty, with your lips all swollen from sucking my cock, when you're gasping while I work you open. Shall I use three, or four fingers, Kitten? Three will open you up enough that you'll be feeling me for days, but with four I'll slide right in. If I've got four in you, it's only one more, it's so tempting -" Mick's narration gets cut off by his moan, which is, in turn, due to the moan Oliver just let out at that thought. A wicked smile floats across Mick's face.

"Oh, Ollie, you liked that, didn't you? You love the idea of me working you so open I could slide my whole fist in." Oliver moans again, thrashing his legs.

"You'd bite your lips redder than red while we worked you up from one to two to three to four. And then you'd look so pretty when you were screaming for me, when every rock of my arm shoved my knuckles right up against your prostate." Oliver's hips are bucking against nothing and his mouth tastes like precum and all he can smell is Mick and he's desperate but not desperate all at the same time, frantic to come and yet ready and willing to wait for Mick's say-so. Mick pulls back and tips Oliver's head back too, to make sure he can speak.

"What's your refractory period like, Kitten?"

"A little faster than average, sir." says Oliver, truthfully. Mick shifts forward, and Oliver laves his tongue over what parts of his cock he can reach.

"Mmm, yes, keep doing that, Kitten." says Mick, scraping one hand across Oliver's scalp. "If that's the case, Ollie, then I'd make you come, just like that, on my fist."

Oliver drops his head back and moans. Mick's grinning when he manages to look up. Mick cants his hips forward when Oliver does, shoves his dick down Oliver's throat and holds it there, and then pulls out so Oliver can get air.

"Yes. That's exactly what I'd do. I'll clean you up while you're still shaking, get my tongue all over those gorgeous abs of yours. And as soon as I'm done with that, I'll slide right in. There'll be no resistance, not after I've had my whole fist in you. I'll be able to shove right into you, and then fuck you until you're screaming again, screaming my name. I'll fuck you until you come all over yourself again, and then I'll roll you over and ride your ass until I come all over it." Mick tells him.

Oliver's sure his eyes are rolling back in his head and his thighs are shaking. He snaps his fingers, once, twice. Mick pulls off instantly.

"Too much, Ollie?" he asks.

"No, sir." says Oliver, and Mick looks confused.

"Not enough, sir." Oliver says, in response to the questioning eyebrow. "Please, sir, I want you to do it, sir, everything you just said, I want you to do it, please, please." Mick strokes Oliver's face again.

"Oh, Kitten, you're so good for me. Begging so prettily for me to use you just like I want. So perfect. But if we're going to do that, I want a bed and a gallon of lube. Do you have that, Kitten?"

Oliver thinks wistfully of the loft, which Felicity is staying in "until she finds her own place", thinks of the broad bed, thinks of Mick in the kitchen, smiling, when Oliver gets back from a hard day at City Hall. It would be so nice to take Mick there now, to let him cuff Oliver to that headboard, to have an arsenal of toys for Mick to discover, to use. It would be so nice to know there's eggs and ingredients for omelettes and Oliver's favorite sourdough in the kitchen for when they wake up in the morning. One day. He'll hold on to that for one day.

For now, he's got a cot and a literal gallon pump bottle of lube, and that's going to do the job just fine.

"Yes, sir, I do."

"Where?"

"There's a cot just around the corner, there, and lube. It's where I've been staying."

Mick looks contemplative for a moment. Then he seems to come back to himself.

"If that's the case, then that's where we'll go." Mick says, and swings himself off Oliver. Oliver rolls over into all fours, taking a moment to steady himself.

"Well now, that's a pretty sight, Kitten." says Mick. "I'm so glad our plan for the night is going to give me such a good view of this fantastic ass of yours."

Oliver smiles to himself, a little dopey, he's sure. Mick's on his feet before Oliver is, and into the alcove with the cot before Oliver makes it to the corner. When he does round the corner, Oliver can see that Mick's already brought the lube over and is laying a towel over the blanket on the bed to catch the excess. Oliver's knees are still weak with arousal, and he gives in and let's them crumble.

"Kitten?" Mick asks, taking a few steps towards Oliver. "Are you all right?"

Oliver, on all fours, nods. "Fine, sir. You said you liked the view?"

Mick actually laughs as he walks backwards until he can sit on the cot.

"That's my Kitten." he says, voice full of joy. "Are you going to put on a show for me?"

Oliver smirks, and then crawls, as sexily as he can, over to where Mick is sitting, legs sprawled wide. Mick's eyes dilate to the point where Oliver can't tell their shade as he approaches, and then Mick's guiding him so he's kneeling between Mick's knees.

"I think I want to hear you beg, Kitten." says Mick. "For exactly what it is you want."

Oliver swallows, hard, and then opens his mouth.

"Please, sir, I want you to open me up so you can get your whole fist in me. I want you to pound your fist into my ass until I come untouched. I want you to pull your fist out and slide your dick in while I'm still clenching from my orgasm. I want you to fuck me so hard I go hoarse screaming your name and come again, and then I want you to get me on my knees and fuck me from behind until you're coming, and I want you to mark me with your come."

Mick makes a soft little surprised noise.

"Like it rough, don't you, Kitten? I can do rough for you. I can do all of that for you. I just want one more thing. Tell me you're mine, Kitten."

"I'm yours." says Oliver, fervently.

"And I can believe it." whispers Mick, mostly to himself. "Alright, Ollie, up on the bed, on your back."

Oliver goes where he is told, relaxes his legs out in a wide sprawl, and raises his hands back over his head, as they had been before.

"So good." says Mick, smoothing one hand over the inside of Oliver's thigh and teasing the first lubed finger of the other around Oliver's hole. Oliver groans and tries to shove down on the intrusion, only for Mick to take his hands away.

"I'm sorry, who's in charge here?" he asks, almost jovial.

"You are, sir."

"Damn right I am. Hold onto your ankles, keep those legs spread wide."

Oliver does as he's told. It's so good, so nice, so easy, so safe.

"Two birds, one stone. You have less leverage, and I get such a lovely view of the hole I'm going to fuck."

A shudder rocks all the way through Oliver at Mick's words, and he knows he's panting for breath. Mick finally slides the finger in, and all his breath pushes out in a rush.

"Yessssss!" Oliver hisses, and Mick chuckles, turns his wrist a few times, slides in a second. The first time he scissors them punches a gasp out of Oliver.

"So good, Kitten, you just keep taking it." Mick murmurs, and opens Oliver enough to push in three, pressing hard and firm against Oliver's prostate. There's nothing but an endless high-pitched whine coming out of Oliver's mouth, and his knuckles are white on his ankles. Mick's petting the inside of Oliver's thigh with his free hand, soft and strong. Mick slides in four, dripping wet with lube, and Oliver drops his head back, lets it bounce on the mattress while Mick works him over, stretches him out until he's shaking and rolling his hips ineffectually down.

"I think we should tie you up, next time." says Mick, thumb teasing against Oliver's rim. "Tie up your hands and your ankles, keep you just where I want you. Get a ring on you, keep you on the edge for hours."

"Yes, sir, yes, fuck, please." says Oliver, which is both his opinion and the extent of his vocabulary at this moment. Mick smiles, pleased, and pushes a little firmer with his thumb.

"Are you ready?" asks Mick, and Oliver can hear the second question underneath, the 'do you still want this' that was present but unsaid.

"Please, sir." Oliver begs, beyond shame. Mick makes a comforting little noise and slides his thumb forward, slowly and wetly easing the widest part of his hand into Oliver, turning his wrist slowly until he's satisfied. The push-pull of his arm is perfect, strong and solid and sure, and Oliver can feel the heat building in his chest.

"Please, sir, more." he begs, tossing his head back and forth because it's all the movement he can make without breaking one of Mick's rules.

"You want more, Ollie?" purrs Mick. "Want me to take you fast and hard and rough?"

"Yes." pants Oliver. "Please."

"Next time, Kitten. Next time, when I tie you down and we've talked about this more." Oliver whines in protest, and Mick smiles.

"Let me show you it's okay to let yourself be looked after. Let me show you you're safe." Mick tells him, still smoothing his free hand up and down Oliver's inner thigh. His fist is still moving, slow and inexorable, and Oliver knows he's close.

"Look at you." says Mick. "Look at you, taking it so well, my perfect Ollie, right here where I can look after you. You don't have to worry about anything but me." Mick's knuckles are rubbing against Oliver's prostate with every movement, just like he'd promised they would. Oliver's so close - he's almost there - he just needs a little more -

"My good Kitten. All mine." says Mick, and pushes back in hard and sure. The words send a shiver through Oliver, push him so close to the brink a heavy breath will knock him over.

"Sir, can I, please can I -"

"Are you asking for permission to come, Kitten? Oh, oh you're so perfect. Yes, Ollie, my Ollie, you can come." Mick's knuckles scrape over Oliver's prostate one more time, and then he does - he comes with a guttural kind of scream, without a hand on him, just like Mick had said he would, just like Oliver had begged for.

He's still reeling through the aftershocks when he feels Mick pulling his hand out, murmuring something low that Oliver's not quite registering. When he focuses a little, the words become clear.

"So good, Kitten, all mine and so good, you're going to be so good for me, aren't you, so perfect on my dick, all mine, my Ollie." Oliver whines, and Mick thrusts in. Just like he'd promised, while Oliver's still shaking his way down, smooth and strong and with little to no resistance. It's so good.

"Is it, Kitten?" asks Mick, and oh, Oliver must have said that out loud. Mick smiles again, that warm safe smile that's got Oliver so wrapped up in knots. He tells Mick it is good, it's so good, he feels full and perfect and just right. Mick pulls Oliver's legs around him, wraps Oliver's thighs around his hips and pushes in deeper, smoother. Oliver clenches his legs and pushes back against Mick's thrusts, wraps his arms around Mick's shoulders and pulls him down for a kiss. Mick goes, kissing him with enthusiasm, and sneaking a hand between then to wrap around Oliver's rapidly hardening dick.

"That's it, that's my good Kitten, come on, that's it." Mick purrs, right into Oliver's ear. Oliver loses track after that, drifts somewhere warm and happy and safe. He can feel Mick fucking him - and holy god does it feel good - but he has no idea how long they've been in this position, how long Mick's hand has been wrapped loosely around Oliver's now-hard dick, how long Oliver's been whining and writhing and panting for air because it feels so good, chanting Mick's name whenever he has breath in his lungs.

"Do you think you can come for me?" asks Mick, cutting through the haze. Oliver nods, somewhere beyond words. He feels like he could do anything Mick asks.

"Good, that's my good Ollie. Come on then, come for me." says Mick, and he tightens his grip around Oliver, and Oliver does, he comes just as instructed, to the soundtrack of Mick's gravelly praise in his ear.

"I know I said I was going to flip you over, Kitten, but right now I just want to make even more of a mess of those gorgeous abs of yours - will you let me do that?" Mick asks, running a hand through the come on Oliver's skin. Fuck, that sounds good. Oliver nods, and Mick slips out of him, straddles his thighs again, and wraps his hand around himself. Oliver just lays there, lets his arms fall over his head and arches his back a little. Mick's breathing hard when he comes, and he lets out a harsh little grunt from between clenched teeth. They both just stay, catching their breath, for a good long moment, before Mick slides off.

"Let me clean us up." says Mick, after a few minutes of him stroking Oliver's hair.

“Do you want to come with me, or will you be alright for a moment while I'm gone?" Oliver hums, still coming back from the pleasant floaty place he'd gone, and contemplates the question.

"As long as you come back-" he starts.

"I'm definitely coming back." says Mick, and when Oliver looks over he's got an appreciative, lewd grin on his face.

Oliver sniggers, and then goes back to blinking slowly.

"I'll be good for a couple of minutes." Mick nods, and swings himself off the bed, disappearing around the corner to the bathroom.

Oliver swirls his fingers through the still mostly-wet come on his stomach and thinks. With Mick, he'd been able to switch off entirely, just hand himself over and relax, a feeling he desperately needs. And Mick understands him, gets the years of trauma, the baseless but unshakeable guilt, the need on occasion to do something dark so that someone else can stay in the light. Mick's lost people he loves too, had to watch and not be able to do anything. And it's not like he's going to leave - five faberge eggs and the chance to start the Great Fire of London couldn't get Mick Rory back onto the Waverider, not without Leonard Snart. But given their line of work, and the alarming regularity with which people came back from the dead -

"Well, that's an image I'm holding onto for the next ten years." says Mick. He's got a damp washcloth in one hand and a fresh towel in the other, and he's smiling, soft and warm. Oliver's suddenly aware of the ridiculous porn-shoot nature of his current pose, and ducks his head, cheeks flushing. He didn't think he was capable of blushing anymore, but apparently Mick Rory is very good at making him do things he'd never thought he'd do again.

Mick cleans Oliver up with care and practiced ease, and then gets them both into sweatpants, before arranging them on the narrow bed so Oliver's head is pillowed on Mick's chest. He's got his fingers back in Oliver's hair - which is very nice, and Oliver is going to insist on happening regularly if the rest of this conversation goes well - when Oliver speaks up.

"So, when you were talking about us negotiating this more thoroughly-" Oliver says, hoping Mick will just put him out of his misery and give him a straight answer.

"We definitely will be." says Mick, firmly. "I will make you dinner and we will hash out all the details and make sure we have a good understanding of each other's limits. And then I am absolutely tying you up and having my way with you."

Mick pauses, like he's running through what he's just said to make sure he's touched on all salient points. Then he seems to remember something.

"As long as that's what you want, of course." Oliver finds himself smiling like a giddy child.

"Yeah. That's absolutely what I want."

Wait, there was something else he'd wanted to ask.

"And if Len were to come back? Would you still stay with me?"

Mick pauses, obviously not expecting the question. He ponders it for a while. Oliver listens to his heartbeat.

"I think if Lenny came back, he'd be more than willing to stay here with us." he says, finally. "As long as you were willing to share me, of course."

Oliver blinks, dumbstruck. He'd known Len and Mick were married, but hadn't considered the arrangement could be like the one he was now creating with Mick.

"Is he more on my end of things, or yours?" Oliver asks, for clarification's sake. "Hypothetically considering his return."

"Yours." says Mick, with a rumbling laugh Oliver feels more than hears.

Oliver has to shake himself out of the very pretty pictures in his head in order to answer.

"I might be amenable to a little more than sharing." he says, and Mick presses a kiss to his forehead.

"Nap now. Hypothetical hookup discussions later." says Mick.

Oliver tables the very enjoyable fantasy he'd been contemplating of Mick's thrusts shoving a bound Len Snart's cock further down his throat, and lets Mick's breathing lull him to sleep.

Two nights later, everything goes to shit while the team is breaking up an arms deal and Oliver has to shoot someone before they can shoot a police officer, and puts the arrow through their throat without thinking. Post-explosion, most of the team is more relaxed in their "what the fuck Ollie you can't just kill people" attitude (which Oliver is laying entirely at the feet of Slade Wilson, who banged heads and told stories until the full extent of Oliver's Lian Yu experience was at least hinted at enough to make Rene and Curtis and Dinah understand. John has understood for a long time now). Felicity, however, is almost worse than she used to be. They get back to the Bunker to find her standing at the door with her hands planted on her hips, chest already inflating so she can give them all - especially Oliver - some kind of long lecture on morality. Oliver walks past her without a second thought and heads to where Mick is sitting on a table near the training room.

"Hey, Ollie." says Mick, soft and warm like he always is, even when he's got Oliver bent over his knee. "Come here."

Oliver goes, and crumples into his arms, trusting Mick to keep him anchored, and trusting his team to not take advantage or discouragement from his emotion. Mick gets his fingers back into Oliver's hair and starts stroking, happy to wait just like that until Oliver gets his breathing back under control.

"You were going to say something, Glasses?" says Mick, nonchalantly.

Felicity doesn't say anything, and Oliver stays in the warmth of Mick's arms.

#Mick/Oliver #ArrowWave #prouves writes #what the fuck this was not supposed to turn out like this #and yet I actually love this fic?#not really felicity or olicity friendly #but then again neither am I so like what did you expect

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