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yunniverse · 3 months ago

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You’re My Dream

౨ৎ PAIRING— rockstar!jeong yunho x reader

౨ৎ GENRE— fluff, ended relationship, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, fluff

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 1.4k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— you broke up because he was too focused on his music dream, but maybe you and love were the real dream all along.

౨ৎ A/N— i saw a lot of people saying they wanted a oneshot with the concept photos from the 2025 seasons greetings, so i made one! i hope you like it, even though it isn’t quite as angsty as you probably wanted :( still, feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading, lovelies! <3 (i’ll tag a few people who said they were interested if someone wrote one: @beabatiny, @goldendynastys, @kibs-and-bits)

Staring at the fire crackling, you try to hold back the tears that threaten to escape. When had it all gone so wrong?

Just last year, you had been enjoying your boyfriend’s Christmas show with his rock band, and now you’re sitting alone, the night before Christmas.

The crackling of the fire adds to your melancholy, the harsh cold winds blowing outside creating a gloomy atmosphere. You know you should forget like he has, but you can’t throw away two years of your life that easily.

The memories of last Christmas come flooding back to you, even as you try to suppress them. Memories of sitting beside the fire with Yunho, cuddling as you watched a cheesy Christmas movie. Or baking Christmas cookies together at his apartment, laughing as you threw flour at each other.

Turning to the remote controller, you press the power button, not expecting to see him on the screen. His band is playing, and you immediately feel a pang in your chest at the sight of him, his fingers dashing across the keyboard.

Even though he’s the keyboard player and not the lead singer, he has an air about him that draws you in, making it unable to look away, even as you know you should. Why is he still having this effect on you?

The song is one you recognize. “Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call,” by Bleachers.

It’s a song he’d introduced to you last Christmas, and, even though it’s sad, it had been a source of joy for you in a way last year, because you remember dancing to the song with him, smiling and laughing.

Now, it really is sad.

When he gets up at the end of the song, leaning into the microphone, you furrow your eyebrows, listening.

“That song goes out to someone I lost a year ago today.” He looks right at the camera, his brown eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, baby. I wish it had been different, but know that I never really stopped loving you.”

You gasp, only momentarily questioning if he’s really talking to you, before you jump up, now determined to make things right for some reason. You know it’ll probably end in more heartache, but you have to try.

Grabbing your keys and coat, you hurry out the door into the winter storm, unlocking your car before hopping in.

Even though the roads are horrible tonight, you know the way to his apartment like the back of your hand, only slowing because of the snow.

About twenty minutes later, you arrive at his apartment complex, hurrying out of the car, through the blinding snow, and into the lobby of the building.

You try to calm yourself down, stepping into the elevator and pressing the button to the fourth floor.

When you get to the floor, you walk down the hall, slowing to a stop in front of his door. Taking a deep breath, you knock.

It takes about two minutes, but the door opens, revealing a messy-haired Yunho, a few locks of his dark blue hair having fallen in front of his brown eyes, which widen at the sight of you.

“Y/N?” he whispers, his hand clutching the doorknob so tight you think he might break it. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw the program.”

“Oh.”

With a sigh, you rub your arm, biting your lip, really starting to wonder what you’re really doing here yourself. “H-How have you been?”

“Is that really what you’re going to ask?” Yunho asks, giving you a half-smile.

“What else would I say?” you question softly, suddenly feeling stupid for coming to see him. “I can’t just say Merry Christmas or something stupid like I’ve missed you—”

“Can’t you?” he asks, his dark eyes searching yours. “Because I’ve missed you.”

Sighing, you frown slightly, “This can’t be happening. I don’t know what I was thinking. Let me just—“

He grabs your wrist as you turn to leave, making your gaze snap back to his. “Every day without you has been torture. You came to see me for a reason. Do you feel the same?”

“Yunho, it doesn’t matter how we feel. It can’t work now anymore than it did then. We have different goals.”

“We don’t have to!” he exclaims, almost desperately. “I can give up the band if that’s what you want. You were upset it took up so much of my time? I’ll quit.”

Your eyes widen as you shake your head, “Yunho, the reason you couldn’t give it up for me before is because it’s what you love to do. I can’t take that away from you. I can’t make you live without it.”

“Well, I can’t live without you.”

His words hang heavy in the air, making you suck in a sharp breath, “Yunho…”

“Don’t say anything,” Yunho tells you, taking a single step closer. “Just tell me…”

“Tell you what?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowing.

“What do you feel?” he asks, just before he leans in, his face inches from yours. Your heartbeat quickens as his warm breath fans across your lips. “If you feel nothing, I’ll leave you alone.”

You’re torn between wanting to close the distance and knowing you shouldn’t.

You don’t have to wait for long.

It feels like the world stops when his soft lips brush against yours for the first time in months. It isn’t like an electric shock, with fireworks exploding, rather it’s like coming home after a long time away. Like warmth and softness and… love.

It only takes a few seconds for you to melt into him, the kiss deepening as he lifts his hands to cup your face, your hands finding his chest, his heartbeat quickens beneath yours fingertips.

After a few moments, he pulls away, his forehead resting against yours as he pants softly, waiting for you to respond.

“I wish I could say I felt nothing,” you whisper, feeling a little helpless against your emotions. “But I can’t. I’ve never been able to.”

“Then give us another chance,” Yunho pleads, his thumbs brushing across your cheekbones. “I meant what I said during the program. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“But what about the band? What about all the reasons we broke up months ago?”

“You and I both know we were being petty then. And I can quit the band, like I said,” Yunho replies, his tone serious.

“I don’t want you to,” you respond quietly, making him furrow his eyebrows.

“What?” he asks slowly, confusion etched into his features.

“I don’t want you to quit what you love,” you clarify. “That’s what ended things between us before. We quit on our love, and I won’t let you quit on the band now. I was stupid to think you loved me any less because of your passion for music. Please don’t stop playing, Yun.”

“Are you sure?” he asks slowly. “It’ll still take up as much time as it did before, maybe more, since we’ve grown a little more popular now.”

“I don’t care,” you smile softly. “All I care about is being with you again. And I won’t let my jealousy over your time get in the way again… as long as you let me come to your shows.”

“Every single one.”

With a small laugh, you lean forward, pressing another soft kiss to his lips before burying your face in his neck, inhaling his calming scent you’ve missed so much.

“Maybe we should get out of the hallway?” Yunho chuckles, tugging your hand, guiding you into his apartment. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

You smile shyly, nodding, as you let him close the door behind you both.

Three months later, you’re cheering for Yunho and his band as he performs, smiling widely when he finally comes backstage, his arms open as you laugh, throwing yourself into his arms for a hug. “You did so well, Yunnie,” you whisper in his ear.

He grins, nuzzling his nose into your hair, “Thank you, baby. You’re always the best cheerleader.”

“Can’t say I don’t like the fake tattoos on your hands either,” you tell him wryly, tracing the markings with your finger.

“Oh?” he asks, chuckling softly, his eyes sparking with mischief. “Maybe I’ll leave them on for a little while. And I’ll be sure to tell the stylist you like them.”

“Good,” you grin. “I’m good with anything now as long as you never tell me ‘please don’t call’ like you did last winter ever again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

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gremlinmodetweeker · 6 months ago

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An Olive Branch Among Thorns

Okay so more a/b/o König because heck why not. The last one was so angsty that I had to bring these two back together a bit. I mean, I can't have König just hating the reader, right? Nah there's gotta be more. Also, world building!

Story below cut

An Olive Branch Among Thorns

You’d spent the past week in König’s home off base. He came back every night, prepared you a meal, and then retired to his office before heading to bed. At first, you’d considered it rude. Then you considered the fact that he was hiding from you in his own home. With that understanding, you had more sympathy for the alpha as he tried to keep the distance between you.

Tonight, he was cooking something a bit more exciting than usual. It was a simple spaghetti, but it was better than the microwave meals he’d been making for the past few days. It was startling to see him cook, particularly because you’d realized the man was a far better cook than you’d chalked him up to be.

He diced the onions into fine little cubes before dashing them from the cutting board into a frying pan. The sizzles that came forth was ripping hot and bright, the only sound that filled the kitchen aside from the whirring fans of the fumehood.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you asked once more as you sat across the kitchen island.

König looked up at you. His ice cold eyes washed you over briefly, then trained themselves back on the floor.

“No.”

If you hadn’t been listening, his answer would have been lost among the thuds of the knife coming down on the cutting board.

You hated to watch, but he didn’t dare give you a single job to do. Instead, you hung about like an unwanted phantom, unable to tear yourself away from the only action you’d seen all day. Before König came home, you’d spent the day reading the books that covered the home like wallpaper, but you struggled to find something that kept your interest for longer than half an hour. It all seemed terribly dry.

When König had come home, you’d greeted him as you did every day, and he ignored you as he did every day. It was a painful routine to lose yourself in. You desperately wanted to have any sort of human interaction but he kept you shut in his home, out of sight out of mind. It was a simple way of keeping you, and for understandable reasons. He didn’t want to become attached. You desperately wished he would change his mind.

You watched the large man maneuver his body through the tiny kitchen with startling ease. You wondered how long he’d lived here to know just how to duck his head to avoid slamming it into the cupboards as he stood up. Evidently, long enough to figure out how to tuck his enormous frame under the fumehood.

You saw the pure hatred in his eyes when he turned back to look at you. He hid it behind a mask of concern, but you saw that brief flicker for long enough to know just what you were to him. A pest, if that. You knew he despised the fact that he had to care for you. If he could, he would toss you out by the scruff of your neck, but the SHA kept a strict eye on the status of matched couples. Then again, it wasn’t uncommon for alphas to harm their omegas. You’d heard too many horror stories of alphas losing control and tearing their omegas apart. There was a story on the news every other week about it. When König looked at you, the raw hatred that he exuded was enough to remind you of just what place you held in this world.

He hissed as a splatter of oil spat up onto his hand.

Instinctively, you ducked your head and apologized.

As he ran his hand under cool water, he turned to address you properly for the first time since he brought you home.

“Why are you sorry?” he barked.

You flinched and squeaked out, “I’m supposed to be cooking for you.”

König dried his hand and turned back to the frying pan without another word.

You thought that would be the end of it, but it seemed König had other ideas.

“You’re not expected to do anything for me,” he said quietly, “I’ve lived on my own for long enough.”

You scowled.

“What am I supposed to do then?” you challenged him, more vitriol in your tone than you intended.

You’d hoped he hadn’t noticed for a brief moment. Of course, by the way he set his shoulders back and drew himself up to his full height, you couldn’t be further from the truth.

“You,” he glared at you, “are meant to sit down and be quiet. That’s part of being an omega, ja?”

You grit your teeth, “Part of being an omega is providing for their alpha.”

König’s eyes sharpened as his nostrils flared, “Part of being an omega is listening to what an alpha says.”

“So what am I supposed to do all day?” you challenged him further.

König’s harsh glare softened to a defeated look, “I don’t know.”

You guessed you shouldn’t have expected him to know. So thus, you sat quietly and waited for him to finish making the pasta sauce.

Not much later, König turned back to you with a bowl full of spaghetti. Instead of passing it to you, he walked to the table and set the bowl across the table from him. You looked at him for further instruction, but he said nothing as he began to eat.

You slunk into the other chair and picked up your utensils. You looked between them and König, who was pointedly avoiding looking at you.

“Thank you,” you said quietly before eating.

His acknowledging hum was lost by the taste of the bright tomato sauce on your tongue. Fresh herbs entangled with the savory taste of meat as you took in another mouthful. For someone who only cooked microwave meals, you were surprised to find yourself enjoying the fresh meal.

“You like it?”

You looked up at König, who was watching you intently. You didn’t know if you preferred his absence or his intense interest.

“It’s great,” you said quietly before taking another mouthful.

“Gut,” König nodded and turned back to his meal.

You waited a bit before you decided to try and break the silence.

“Was work okay today?” you asked quietly, afraid of your own voice.

König didn’t reply and for a moment, you thought that maybe he hadn’t heard you.

After a brief pause, König cleared his throat, “It was. Was your day okay?”

You put your fork down briefly.

“There wasn’t much to do,” you admitted.

König nodded carefully. He drummed his fingers on the table before he looked back up at you, “It must be lonely here.”

You nodded timidly.

“I see…” König finished off his bowl. He stepped to the kitchen, piled more into his bowl and then sat down with a groan that was echoed by the chair.

“It’s not a big problem,” you tried to say but König waved you off.

“No, it is. You’re in my home now, so I’m responsible for you,” König grumbled as he took another mouthful, “I will give you a phone.”

A phone?

“You’re giving me a phone?” you looked at him strangely, “but aren’t omegas not supposed to own phones?”

König glared into his bowl, “Those rules are meaningless.”

“But what about the SHA?” you asked.

“There’s no laws barring omegas from having their own devices,” König grumbled, “that’s just a myth.”

You looked down at your hands. All this time you were allowed to have your own phone? Your father had strict control over your phone and laptop before you were taken into the SHA program. You’d never had unrestricted access. The thought boggled your mind.

“I can get you one tomorrow,” König promised, “and when I come home I’ll show you some forums where you can talk to others.”

“Other omegas?” you asked hopefully.

“If you’d like,” König offered, “or there’s mixed boards where you aren’t bound to messaging within your own class.”

“That exists?” your world was steadily falling apart at the seams.

König’s eyes widened, almost as though he was shocked or frightened by what was only obvious to you.

“You never knew of those?” König asked incredulously.

“My father never showed me those,” you told him.

“Your father controlled your access to the internet?” König scowled.

“Yeah? Every omega I’ve met uses restricted access devices,” you looked at him as though he’d just grown a second head.

“That’s…” König shook his head, “that’s not right. Look,” he lightly hit the table with his fist, “under this roof, you’re free to do as you please. It’s not my job to control you.”

“But you’re my partner,” you immediately winced.

“I’m not your mate,” König sighed. He tapped his spoon on the table once, twice, then took a deep breath before saying, “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me. I never wanted a mate. It’s too… It’s risky, in this line of work.”

“How come?” you asked.

“Because you could lose me the next time I go overseas,” König explained, “I’m a soldier. I won’t stay here forever. When you lose me, you’ll be matched to another alpha-”

“Or a beta!” you interjected hopefully.

König’s eyebrows knit together.

“You don’t know much about the matching program, do you,” König stated flatly.

“I know enough,” you took a sip of water.

“Well, since you’re an omega O, you’re not likely to get matched with a beta,” König’s lips formed into a line, further exacerbated by a scar that ran back from the left corner of his mouth.

“But my mother was matched with a beta,” you refuted him easily.

“Was your mother and omega O?”

You crumpled into yourself.

“She was an omega A.”

König pointed his fork at you, “Exactly. Omega Os are matched with alphas almost exclusively. So after me, you’ll probably get another alpha. If you’re unlucky, an alpha A, like me.”

You shuddered.

König watched you carefully before turning back to his food.

“So I’m right,” he muttered, “you are scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of you,” you retorted, “I just… I don’t know what other alphas are like.”

König frowned as he glanced up at you briefly, “You don’t know?”

“Not really,” you admitted, “I was in an omega only school growing up.”

König’s face fell, “So you have no idea what we’re like.”

You shook your head.

“Well,” König swirled his fork in his pasta, “we’re bigger. Stronger. You know all that though, everyone does.”

“You’re the biggest person I’ve ever met,” you admitted.

König snorted and shook his head, “I get that a lot,” he chewed carefully before swallowing heavily, “anyways, alphas are known to be aggressive, impulsive. Very…” he searched for a word, “primal. Back in ancient times, we were the ones to control territory and protect our people. Nowadays, we’re too head-strong for the modern world. So they use our bodies for labor, and we’re left to deal with these urges ourselves.”

“I know that stuff,” you tried to hide the tremor in your voice, “I watch the news.”

“What, with alphas tearing apart their partners?” König snorted, “half of those aren’t even real. It’s just a media stunt to turn the public against alphas. The same thing happens to omegas too. You’re made out to be weak nymphomaniacs. You see that too, right?”

You nodded.

“Most alphas will never hurt their partners,” König insisted, “ever. We don’t do that. We’re human beings, not monsters.”

“So you won’t hurt me?” you asked hopefully.

“Never,” König determined, “I would never hurt anyone I don’t have to. You, as my legal partner, will never be hurt by me.”

You nodded along. He’d never hurt you, but he’d never hold you close enough to hurt you either. You tried not to let it hurt you, you’d cried for days over your situation, and yet still it stung to hear ‘my legal partner’ instead of ‘my partner’.

You set your spoon down in your bowl with a final clank.

“I guess I’ll speak to you tomorrow?” you asked solemnly.

König looked down at your bowl and then back up at you.

“If you ever need me,” König traced the rim of his wine glass with a finger, “I’m usually in my office when I’m home,” he looked up at you with a heavy stare, “you don’t have to be afraid of me.”

You tore yourself away from his stare to go and clean your bowl. As you walked out of the room, you could feel his stare still lingering on you until you made your way into your bedroom.

AU Masterlist

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sentientcave · 11 months ago

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Heavy Weighs the Crown

Had to stop working on everything else and write a whole bunch of this instead. Usually I like to finish things that I think might be on the longer side before I start posting, but we're gonna live on the edge with this one. Expect updates in 1-2 Bearimys.

Chapter One - Sweetpea

Chapter Index - Next Chapter >

Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, Large men picking up reader like a football, No Y/N, A spot of magic, Some exposition, Reader's dad (deceased) was a real piece of work, Reader descriptions kept as neutral as possible but keep in mind that she is a character to me and does have a specific appearance so things might slip through. This is just me having a bit of fun with a fantasy setting because it is my favourite type.

~3.4k Words - MDNI

Sunlight streams down through the light scattering of clouds above, as you carry your nearly empty basket into town to buy a few things for your auntie Kate. She’s not truly your aunt, but over the past few years it’s hard to think of her as anything less than family. She’s not warm, exactly, but she’s honest, and you know that you can trust her with anything.

Kate would usually be at your side when you go into town, watching the crowd with hawkish intensity, as though she still expects agents of the new king to materialize and snatch you away, but she’s away on business, and her wife much less paranoid. You expect that anyone who was ever looking for you has given up on you now. After the civil war, there was a time of instability, and you laid awake many nights, half expecting armed men to break into your bedroom and snatch you away, but everything is smoothed over now, and there’s no reason why Price would feel like he needed you to cement his rule.

You’re happy to just let him have the kingdom. You have more freedom as an ordinary girl, and you’re happier now than you ever have been. You were miserable living in your father’s halls, just a spindly little flower growing without enough sun or rain. And your people are happy now too. It twists your stomach something fierce, to think that your father was never a good king, but the reality is that he wasn’t. People starved while he feasted behind his walls. He sent good men to wage war on his behalf, to die in far off lands when they should have been home building better lives for themselves and their families. He allowed his chosen men to terrorize the women and children and old men living in the towns still. Things had been bad.

So yes, let Price have the crown, and the castle, and the responsibility and anything he likes. What difference does it make to you now?

What matters now is the sun on your face, and the gentle sound of birdsong around you, and the dull bite of the occasional stone through the soft leather soles of your shoes. The air smells sweet and green, although there’s a slight prickle at the back of your nose that tells you that there will be rain tonight, or tomorrow morning at the latest. There’s nothing to worry about aside from whether or not the children in town will like the end of the book you have tucked into your basket.

You see a young man sleeping by the side of the road on your way into town, his horse tied to a long halter while he lounges beneath a tree. As you pass by, a bird flying too close startles the horse, and it pulls up the peg it’s tied to, and bolts. The young man doesn’t stir, so you dash after the horse without a thought, dropping your basket so you have both hands free to seize the halter.

You try to dig in your heels to stop the big, white-stockinged horse, but it half-drags you a little ways down the road before finally stopping, swinging it’s head around to look at you as though you’ve personally offended it. “Come on,” you tell it, exasperated. “You don’t belong out here.”

Arms wrap around you from behind, hands much larger than yours close over your wrists. “You’re awfully pretty for a horse thief,” a voice says in your ear.

“I’m not a horse thief!” you protest. “I was trying to help!” The horse snorts, as though it intends to tattle on you for something that you most certainly were not doing.

“And you didn’t think to wake me up?” The man behind you lets go of one of your wrists and spins you around, the movement smooth and graceful, like you’re two dancers at a ball, rather than two strangers meeting along a country road. But when you look up, you find the all too familiar face of one of Price’s knights.

“Sir Garrick!” you gasp.

“Princess,” he says, smiling. He’s far too handsome, his smile bright, teeth a little bit too sharp. “How very nice to see you. I thought for sure you’d have left the kingdom by now.”

“No! Oh no.” You push against his chest uselessly. He’s strong, so much stronger than you. Despair claws at your ribs. Your nightmare-come-true may be wrapped in a pretty, familiar face, but you have no desire to return to the capital. “Please let me go. I promise I don’t want the kingdom. Price can have it— You can have it. I just want to be left alone, I swear, I’ll never—”

“Hush, sweetpea.” He tucks a few of your thin braids behind your ear, fingertips grazing down your neck. “I have to bring you in. But you can make your case to Price. Maybe he’ll let you come back, alright? Don’t fret. He’s always been reasonable.”

You’re not certain how to get out of this. Sir Garrick has kind eyes, but his grip is like steel. He lifts you up easily and sets you on his horse before you so much as think of protesting or making a feeble attempt to fight him off.

“We’re not far from the capital. We can make it there before dark,” he continues, voice low and reassuring, as though you’re worried about the travel, and not the destination.

“But— What about my aunt? I should let her know where I’ve gone.”

“We’ll send word. Don’t you worry, your majesty.”

“No, no, don’t call me that. That’s for kings and queens, and I’m neither.” I’m no one, you want to shout.

He's amused by that, amused by you, as if you're just being a silly little girl. "I suppose we'll settle on sweetpea for now." He holds his palm out and three little white birds materialize and fly off in different directions, spectral and iridescent as soap bubbles. And then he swings into the seat behind you and pulls you most of the way into his lap, wraps strong arms around your waist, and nudges his mount into a walk.

“So,” Sir Garrick says conversationally, his voice low, lips far too close to your ear. It’s overly familiar, but you’re already practically sitting in the man’s lap. “What have you been doing out here all these years?”

“Um. Gardening. Embroidery. Taking care of my chickens. Lessons, for some of the children that live nearby. Just letters and arithmetic. I’ve been thinking about organizing a proper schoolhouse.” You can feel your nerves bubbling up as you babble, thoughts coming to you disorganized and stilted. “I never realized how few people can read. It seems a shame. I do a few hours of reading around town, help out at the church. I keep busy. I haven’t any real purpose, so I have to go out of my way to make one.” You sigh, thinking of how you had left things at a particularly gripping point in a story you’d been reading to the town children. They’ll be disappointed if they never hear the end of it, but you still have hope that Price will decide you’ve become something of a country bumpkin with no place in the court, and let you go back home soon. “How have you fared? Is your family well?”

“Quite well. My sisters will be glad to see you again. They always thought you were sweet. Rosie’s opened her own dress shop in the city, and Camellia has five children now. I think Kylie and Jorah were just two or three last you saw them. My mother lives with Cam to help out.” Sir Garrick’s mother and sister used to work at the palace, and he had been apprenticed to the court wizard before he specialized in battle magic and became a knight. You hadn’t been friends, exactly— You’re not sure you ever really had friends— but he’d always been nice enough, when your paths crossed.

“And what of you?” you prompt gently. “Have you found yourself a wife?”

He laughs lightly. “I’m working on it. I’ve a girl in mind, but I think she’ll take some convincing.”

“Oh I doubt that, Sir. You’re perfectly unobjectionable.”

“High praise indeed, princess.”

The two of you chat idly as you travel, mostly about nothing, but it’s pleasant enough. Sir Garrick— Kyle, he insists you call him— is far more charming than you remember, and he makes you laugh so much that you’re certain that you’d simply fall right off the horse if he wasn’t holding onto you so securely. He’s the very picture of a romantic hero, all chivalry and smiles, handsome in the dappled light under the canopy of trees as the road carries you from farmland to forest. You come to a bridge, and he dismounts so his horse can drink, and lifts you down so you can stretch out stiff muscles. His touch lingers, strong hands resting on your hips for a few beats longer than would be appropriate, but you don’t really mind.

You part from his company so you can relieve yourself a little ways into the trees, glad he’s not concerned about you making a run for it. His assurances that Price can be reasoned into letting you go home once you’ve spoken to him is enough to make you cooperative. You’re certain that he’ll take one look at you now and send you right back home. You’ve never had any luck with the young men in town, and if that’s any indication, you’ll be back to your little bedroom in Kate’s house before the week is up.

You fix your clothes and walk back to the road, humming lightly under your breath. Kyle is speaking to a flat glowing disc that hums with energy, floating above his palm. He gives you a smile and a nod and retreats to the tree line while he finishes his conversation. You catch a glimpse of a face on the disc as he turns, searing blue eyes meeting yours for a moment. Price, certainly. You recognize those eyes.

Kyle’s gaze slips over to you again as you kneel by the creek, one arm keeping your skirt out of the water while you trail the other hand through the water idly, the cool stream a pleasant offset to the heat of the afternoon. If you were alone, you would consider stripping down and going for a swim, but as nice as Kyle is, he’s still a man, and not one you know particularly well anymore, if you ever did.

When you look over again, he’s tucking the crystal disc into the front of his tunic, and a wolf is behind him, stalking out of the woods, low to the ground and ready to pounce. “Kyle!” you shout, pointing behind him. He turns quickly, a spell glittering on his fingertips, but the wolf pounces before he can cast it, both crashing into the packed earth along the side of the road.

You rush over, although halfway there you wonder what help you expect to be, and an arm snatches you around the middle, hauling you back. You’re beginning to get a bit annoyed at how much you’ve been manhandled today, and you start kicking as you’re lifted off your feet. “Let me go!”

“Easy, sweet girl. Let the lads say hello,” a deep voice says behind you, the sound rumbling through you like a cat’s purr. “No danger ‘ere.”

You look at Kyle and the wolf again. Only there isn’t a wolf anymore, just a large, naked man laying on top of Kyle, kissing him ardently and more than a little messily. The sound of it makes your cheeks burn. “Oh.”

The man who was a wolf stands up, and you look away, too flustered by the sight of so much bare skin to do anything else. The big man puts you down and turns you to face him, putting your back to the werewolf. “Johnny, put some clothes on before you say ‘ello. We know you were raised by savages, but you don’t need to act like it,” he says firmly, his heavy hands on your shoulders.

You stare at the skull embroidered on the black tunic in front of you, recognizing the emblem, and then the black fencers mask tied around the man’s face, obscuring even the shape of his features. You see a glint of light when he drops his chin to look at you though, gleaming eyes that look at you inscrutably. You know him, by name and reputation and deep, rumbling voice, if not by his face. No one knows him by his face, but he was as highly ranked a knight as Price was, one of your father’s personal guard before the war. Often tasked as your guardian, a solemn but comforting presence always. “Hello, Ghost,” you say, cheeks burning all the hotter. “Been a while.”

“Not as long as you might think,” he says. You can almost hear the smile in his voice. “Been keepin’ an eye on you.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. “For how long?”

“Knew where you were this whole time. Wun’t about to let you disappear, princess.” He tucks you against his side, keeping an arm around your shoulders protectively. “Johnny. Come meet our girl. Best behaviour.”

Johnny the werewolf grins at you as he walks up, still adjusting the drape of the tartan fabric around his hips, broad chest bare and dusted with hair, swirling blue tattoos printed on his scarred skin. His hair is shaved on the sides, a stripe of it left long in the center. “Nice ta finally meet ya, princess. Officially, anyway. We’ve bumped intae each other once or twice, but I was told no’ ta approach unless ye approached first, aye? Shame ye never did.” His smile is crooked, his too-bright blue eyes intent on yours. “Think we’ll get along.”

“The whole time?” you ask, skipping back a few paces in the conversation, glancing up at Ghost. “But Kyle said—”

“Sorry, sweetpea,” Kyle says airily. “I lied.”

“Typical tricksy wizard shite. But dinnae ye worry none, we’ll keep him honest for ye.” Johnny grabs your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, and then to the inside of your palm. His rough fingertips push your sleeve back, and he kisses the inside of your wrist too. When you squeak, he gives you a heated look and does it again, teeth grazing sensitive skin as he opens his mouth and licks a stripe across your pulse.

You’re warm from the tips of your ears to your chest, your breath catching on ragged nerves. You tug your hand out of his grip and cradle it with your other, like you’ve been burned by his brash touch.

“Johnny,” Ghost says, exasperated. “S’that what you call best behaviour?”

“She likes it, sir.”

“I most certainly do not!” you protest.

“Oh, aye ye do. Werewolf, ye ken. Can smell ye.” Johnny taps the side of his nose and winks at you. “Ye dinnae need ta be embarrassed, sweetpea. Ye can hardly blame yerself, faced with all this.” He gestures to his admittedly impressive physique, the broad and lean shape of near-perfect manhood on immodest display.

“Let’s move.” Kyle’s hand brushes your elbow. “You can ride with me again.”

Ghost shakes his head and turns, pulling you with him. “No. Come meet Nox.” He whistles, and a huge black shape hurtles down from the sky, glossy black wings snapping open just before the creature hit the ground, flapping a few times so that it lands lightly on four mismatched limbs, stirring up dust leaves. You shrink back against Ghost’s side, eyes wide. A gryphon.

The massive beast has a raven’s head and wings, and shiny black fur on it’s haunches. The catlike tail, with it’s tuft of feathers at the end, twitches back and forth as the bird head tilts to regard you, dark, slit-pupil eyes watching you with interest.

You look up at Ghost for reassurance, and he nods. “Go on. Offer ‘er your ‘and. She won’t bite. Hey, girl?” he scratches the gryphon behind the ear, and it opens it’s mouth to make a vibrating, keening sound that makes Kyle’s horse snort nervously. “That’s right, sweetpea’s a friend.”

You offer your outstretched hand to the giant creature, bolstered by Ghost’s calm, and it sticks it’s beak under your palm, making the same keening sound again. The last of your apprehension melts away, and you step closer, smiling. “Aren’t you a pretty girl?” You scratch the spot where her beak meets her feathers, and her eyes close for a moment.

Johnny reaches for the Nox’s side, and she whips her head around and hisses at him, her throat feathers fluffing up defensively. “Och, yer no’ goan ta git my fingers, ye wee beastie. Thought ye was gettin’ soft.”

“Away, Johnny. Let the girls get to know each other.” Ghost stands behind you and guides your hands to points just behind Nox’s jaw. The gryphon croaks and leans her head on your shoulder, nudging Ghost with her beak.

“Not so scary,” you coo, pressing your face into the soft cloud of feathers. “What a sweet girl.”

“How about it, Nox? Can she ‘op up?” Ghost asks. The gryphon croaks again and backs away enough to lean her front half down. Ghost picks you up and sets you on her back, on a flat saddle that sits right behind the joint of her massive wings, which fold up over your legs like she’s holding you steady. He pats Nox on the neck and starts walking, and she follows, padding beside him, sticking her beak between the joints of his leather armor playfully whenever he takes his hand off her.

You grab the edge of the saddle, mindful of Nox’s feathers, and it takes a moment to adjust to her movement. It’s not the side to side sway of a horse, but she’s steady, like she’s trying her best not to spill an inexperienced rider. Thoughtful of her.

Behind you, Kyle scrambles up onto his horse, and Johnny hustles to catch up, positioning himself on Ghost’s other side, giving Nox a wider berth.

“Thought we weren’t supposed ta tell her we were watchin’,” Johnny said. “Price said—”

“She ought to know. I wun’t too ‘appy about it in the first place, but a deal’s a deal.”

“A deal with who?” you ask.

“I’ll let Price tell you that much, sweetpea. But if it were up to me I’d’ve dragged you back home years ago.”

You shake your head tiredly. “Home is where I was. And I’m going back as soon as this business with Price is done. I don’t know what he wants, but I’m sure we can work something out. Kyle said he’s reasonable.”

“Oh, did ‘e?” Ghost asks, amusement colouring his deep voice. “S’pose that’s ‘ow ‘e had you comin’ along purrin’ like a kitten, hm?”

The blood drains from your face as you turn to look at Kyle, but he doesn’t look guilty, or like he’d been lying to you. “Well, again, I’m perfectly happy to cooperate. There’s no reason why he wouldn’t let me go when he gets what he wants, is there?”

Johnny chuckles, exchanging a look with Ghost that’s inscrutable. “Aye, ye’ve got a point. I’m sure ye’ll have no trouble dealin’ with the old man. Born diplomat, aren’t ye?”

Your stomach twists with nerves. It’s been many years since you’ve seen John Price. You don’t know him as well as you know Ghost. You’d always found the big, faceless man strangely comforting, easy to talk at, if not to, especially when you were still young and silly. But John Price, when he fixed you with those fathomless dark blue eyes, had always rendered you speechless, turned your usually clever tongue to lead. He was a knight captain then, a natural leader of men, a hero. Not someone that your father wanted you to get close to. It’s easy for you to see why now, with your father dead in the ground and Price wearing the crown, but you were glad for any excuse to stay away.

You wish you could ask Nox to fly away with you on her back, maybe home, but maybe somewhere else entirely, where no one knows you, where you can start again without the weight of the crown hanging heavy over your head, an executioner’s ax waiting to fall.

***

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

#Fantasy AU #cod mw fanfiction #x reader #x fem Reader #141 x reader #Heavy Weighs the Crown #Cave Writing #This is mostly gonna be fun and light-hearted I just really enjoy fantasy and I've been watching a lot of DnD content lately #“He's always been reasonable” Kyle lies thinking fondly of his boss - the least reasonable man in the realm #Let me know if you need any content warnings in here but I feel this one's pretty light

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q-gorgeous · 10 months ago

Text

Sew Me Up and Keep Me Whole

fanfiction

ao3

word count: 7603

Thanks to seeing how various injuries are treated as a member of the football team, Dash actually has a decent background in first aid and anatomy. He gets adopted into Team Phantom when circumstances keep leading him to be the one patching up Phantom after fights.

ohohohhoho

Dash was walking home after a football game. He was exhausted and was looking forward to going to bed tonight. Plus there was a ghost attack at the end of the game so it ran extra long while they waited for it to be over.

He turned into the park. It was dark in the park, but it made his trip home from the school faster. His dad would be even madder if he woke him up this late. He wanted to get back as soon as possible.

He got to the wooded part of the trees when he heard something. It sounded like voices.

“Tucker, you’re not doing it right.” Somebody whispered angrily. It sounded like Manson.

“Do you want to try doing this?” He hissed back. “I’m the only one who’s taken a sewing class. You didn’t think you should be reduced to something so ‘stereotypically feminine.’”

“-’s not ev’n a fem’n’n thing.” Was that Fenton? “Sewing is a b-basic life skill…”

“That’s not the point!” She hissed back at them. “My mom-”

Dash stepped through the bushes and past the tree separating them and fell short. That wasn’t who he was expecting to be there.

Phantom sat in between Foley and Manson, not Fenton. As he stepped through the bushes their heads snapped up to look at him. Phantom’s head groggily lulled to the side as he looked at Dash.

“Ha. Jus’...what we need.”

Dash frowned. “What?”

Phantom chuckled and closed his eyes.

“No! Don’t close your eyes!” Manson lightly slapped him. When he just groaned and leaned his head back against the tree behind him she slapped him harder.

“...Sam!” He pried his eyes open and glared at her. “Don’ hit m’..”

“You can’t fall asleep until Tucker is done with your stitches. If only he could just hurry it up.” Manson ground out.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” Tucker breathed out, his hand shakily pulling another stitch through Phantom’s injury. “I don’t want to leave an ugly scar or make it worse by not doing it well.”

Dash stepped closer to where they were sat behind the bushes. Manson shot another look at him. He could finally see Phantom’s wound and it was pretty gnarly. Foley’s stitches were holding it closed but they definitely weren’t pretty.

“Do you need help?” Dash asked apprehensively. “I’ve seen a lot of injuries during football practice. And I’m not squeamish like you, Foley.”

“Yeah? You know how to sew up wounds?” Manson spit out. “How is watching people get treated for wounds during practice the same as sewing up an injury?”

Dash held up his hands. “It seems like Foley doesn’t know what he’s doing either. I know how to sew already. Isn’t that like halfway there?”

Foley looked at Manson. “If he can get it done faster than me, why not let him? We’re gonna run out of time.”

“How can we trust him?” Manson glanced at Dash, worrying her lip.

“He is literally Phantom’s biggest fan except for maybe Paulina. Do you really think he’s gonna try to kill him?”

A blush rose to Dash’s cheeks at Foley’s comment while Manson kept studying him.

A few more moments went by before she looked back at Phantom. He smiled at her groggily.

She sighed. “Fine. Dash, get over here.”

His eyes widened, stunned that they actually accepted his help. He strode forward and knelt on the ground between Foley and Manson. Phantom looked up at him, the goofy smile still on his face.

“Funny that y’ur the one h’lping me.” He chuckled.

“Why’s that?” Dash asked. Phantom just shook his head and chuckled again.

“Here.” Foley handed him a pair of gloves. “We don’t know if his ectoplasm can irritate or damage skin. We haven't felt risky enough to try it out yet.”

“How often do you guys do this?” Dash snapped his gloves on and took the needle from Foley. Phantom smiled wistfully.

“I get hurt a lot.”

Dash hummed as he made his first stitch. “Well that’s not good.”

“Yeahh.. ghosts suck. And also bullies. They can hurt pretty bad sometimes too.”

Shame wriggled into Dash’s stomach as he made another stitch. What would Phantom think of him if he knew he was a bully himself?

Phantom hummed a wistful sigh as he watched Dash sew his wound closed.

“Y’know, ‘ur pretty cute.”

Dash’s brain stopped for a moment and spent a second processing what Phantom said. He felt like he was short circuiting.

“What?” Dash asked.

Tucker burst out laughing. “Man, you’re not gonna live this one down.” Sam shushed him.

Dash continued sewing Phantom’s wound closed as he tried to get his bearings. He never would’ve thought his hero would think of him like that.

“So.” He said, pulling the thread tight. “Are you guys friends?”

“We’r’ bes frie-” Sam covered his mouth.

“We help him with ghost fights. We don’t know him that well.”

“Oh. It just seemed like you guys are pretty close. He must trust you two a lot.”

Dash finished up his last stitch. “There we go. You’re all closed up.”

Phantom smiled at him again as Dash pulled off his gloves and put them in a bag Tucker held up to him. “Tha’ was s’much faster than Tucker.”

“Much cleaner stitches, too.” Sam said, leaning down to look at them.

“‘Thank you for trying, Tucker. We’re so grateful for you, Tucker.’” He mumbled out as he put all their supplies back in his bag.

“C’mon, Tuck!” Phantom lulled his head in Tucker’s direction. “You’ve stitched up so… so many stitches before now. I’d’d have bled out so many times over with-without you.”

“Thank you, D- Phantom.”

Dash pushed himself up off the ground and stretched. “Do you guys need help getting him back… Wherever he needs to go?”

“We can take him back to my house.” Sam stood up. “My parents are those people who go to bed at eight o’clock and get up at some ungodly hour for their office jobs.”

“Can you stand, Phantom?” Tucker asked him.

Phantom shakily tried to stand up. He only made it up part way before he fell back to his knees.

“Here.”

Dash bent down and picked Phantom up bridal style. He adjusted his hold on him until he was holding him comfortably.

“Okay.” Dash turned to look at Sam. “Lead the way.”

He followed behind Sam and Tucker as they walked through the trees. Phantom was much heavier than what Dash would expect from a ghost. He figured ghosts would be light as a feather since they could fly, but Phantom felt so much like a human it was uncanny.

Phantom leaned his head back into the crook of Dash’s neck. He took a sharp breath in as he felt Phantom’s breath ghost against his neck.

Dash looked down at Phantom and his eyes were closed, but after a few moments of Dash staring Phantom peeked an eye open.

He jumped and looked back up at Sam and Tucker. They were whispering between themselves, shooting glances back at Dash. Phantom chuckled.

“Thank you for helping us.”

Dash looked back down at him. Phantom already seemed to be more coherent than when Dash first stumbled upon them.

“Of course. You should probably thank your friends for letting me help you. They were pretty skeptical at first.”

Phantom shrugged. “They’re just looking out for me. They’re protective.”

“So you are friends?” Dash asked. Phantom looked at Sam and Tucker.

“Yeah. They’re the best friends I could’ve asked for.”

“Are you friends with the Fenton kid too?” Dash asked.

Phantom turned to look at Dash sharply. “The Fenton kid?”

“Yeah.” Dash nodded. “Danny. Hangs around with those two. Kind of a freak.”

Phantom frowned at him and turned away from him. “Oh. The ghost hunter’s son? No. Why would I be friends with him? His parents would tear me apart.”

“Oh. Yeah that’s true. Those three just never go anywhere without each other so I thought maybe he was in on this too. He’s a dork anyways.”

“We’re here.” Sam called behind them.

Dash looked up to see Sam and Tucker stopped in front of a set of stairs leading to Sam’s front door. Phantom suddenly jumped out of Dash’s arms and winced once his feet hit the ground. It set Dash off balance and it took a moment for him to regain it.

Phantom walked over to where Sam and Tucker were waiting.

“Will you be okay?” Dash called to him.

“Yeah.” Phantom said without looking back at him. “I’ll be fine.”

He walked away from Dash without looking back at him. The three of them walked inside the door and shut it behind them.

He stood there and stared at the closed door. A pit formed in his stomach but he’s not sure what happened.

He turned around and started the short trek home.

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

Dash was walking in the hallways of Casper High. He was heading to his next class. He just wanted this day to be over with.

Up ahead of him he saw Fenton and his friends. He smirked and started walking faster to catch up with them.

“Hey, Fentoadally lame! Where do you think you’re going!”

He saw Fenton’s shoulders rise and fall as he sighed. He looked over his shoulder at Dash, an angry grimace on his face.

“Anywhere away from you.”

The hallways were starting to clear out as it got closer to the bell. He caught up to them and grabbed Danny by the shoulder, turning him around and slamming him into the lockers to their left. He glared up at Dash.

“What do you want, Dash?”

Dash sneered down at him. “I want to get my afternoon wailing in before I lose my chance and you disappear for the rest of the day like you did yesterday.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “And why does your wailing have to be on me?”

“Because you’re my favorite nerd to wail on.” Dash said as he pulled his arm back, ready to hit Danny.

“Excuse me!”

Something hit Dash in the back of the head. He hissed and when he turned around he saw Sam holding her boot in her hand, glaring at him.

“What the hell, Manson?” He rubbed the spot she had hit. “What’s that boot made of?”

“Steel toe.” Tucker said from where he stood, far away from the action.

“How’s it feel, Dash? Huh? Do you like getting hit? Do you want to know what it’s like to get beat up for no reason every single day?” Sam spat at him.

He took a step away from her. He already knew what that was like. He didn’t need to know what it would be like, just from a different person.

“Sam-” Danny tried stepping out from behind Dash to get to her but there wasn’t enough room for him to move.

“Why should we let you keep helping us with Phantom if we can’t trust you to leave our friend alone?”

“What?” Dash asked, incredulous. “How are either of these things related?”

Sam walked up to him and poked him in the chest. Distantly Dash could hear the late bell ringing. “Because how do we know you wouldn’t turn on Phantom? That if we relied on you, that you would actually be there to help him?”

“But Phantom is-”

“A person, just like Danny.” Sam said. “Just because Danny isn’t your ‘hero’ doesn’t mean he deserves to be a punching bag.”

Dash rolled his eyes. “Fenton just asks for it.”

Sam closed her eyes and shook her head.

“No, you know what? We won’t need your help anymore, Dash. We were doing just fine without you. We’ll manage.”

“I didn’t want to have to associate with you nerds anymore than I have to anyways.” Dash tried to ignore the pang in his chest at the idea of not being able to help Phantom anymore.

“You know, I’ve heard that Phantom doesn’t like bullies.” Fenton said from behind him.

Dash turned and frowned at him. “What do you know?” He shoved Fenton into the lockers one more time and walked away from them. He could hear Sam furiously whispering with Danny about something but Dash tried to tune it out.

Where did Manson get off threatening to beat him? That’d just make her a hypocrite, wouldn’t it? Doing the very thing she hates?

Whatever. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t make it so Phantom couldn’t talk to him.

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

“Hey, I’ll see you later, Kwan!” Dash said as he walked out of the Nasty Burger. Kwan turned around where he was walking the opposite way down the sidewalk.

“Yeah! See you tomorrow, buddy!” Kwan shouted back at him.

Dash smiled as he started his walk home. Kwan was always pretty good at cheering him up. He’d had a pretty bad week. Every time he’d gone to Phantom to try to talk to him he’d up and disappear or fly away before Dash could even get a word in. Sam and Tucker must’ve said something to him about what happened with Fenton.

He sighed. He’d probably never get to talk to Phantom again at this rate.

He heard some rustling coming from the alley he was coming up on. He paused just before it. Nothing good ever came from inside alleyways.

“Tucker, where are you- Danny, he-”

He could hear Manson’s panicked voice coming from inside the alley. He crept forward.

Dash looked into the alley to see Sam desperately talking on the phone. Phantom sat on the ground in front of her. She was holding a rag to his stomach.

“No, no I already have the supplies. I can’t-”

A tear streamed down her face. “Tucker, I need you. I can’t do this without you.”

Phantom’s eyes slowly opened. He tilted his head towards the end of the alley that Dash was standing in. He locked eyes with him, taking a deep breath.

“Sam..”

She looked up at him. When she saw where he was looking, she followed his gaze until her eyes landed on Dash. Her eyes widened. After a few moments of staring, she put her phone back up to her ear.

“No, Dash- Dash is here. He just walked up. He- He could probably help us again. Just one more time.”

Dash jumped. How serious was it this time that she couldn’t wait for Tucker?

“Dash, get over here!”

He jumped again at her call, but ran to them inside the alley.

“Can you stitch him up again?” She pleaded. “I know what I said, but I-”

“It’s fine.” Dash said. “I’m not that petty that I’ll refuse to save his life just because you don’t like me.”

She pulled a first aid kit out of her backpack and handed it to him. “You’re mean to me and my friends. I don’t want to be around you if you’re going to bully us.”

“Tch.” Dash scoffed. He pulled on a pair of gloves. “As if you aren’t just as mean to us. You go around antagonizing Paulina and forcing things that you want to do on other people.”

She rolled her eyes. “You literally beat people up and stuff them into their lockers. That is not the same thing.”

“Yeah, well-”

“As much as I love watching Sam tell it to you, can you guys hurry it up?”

Dash and Sam looked at Phantom. He had one eye squinted open and he was looking between them.

“Sorry.” Dash said. He threaded the needle and got started stitching up Phantom’s wound.

They were silent while Dash worked. His stitches were quick and soon Dash was done. He sighed.

“I actually used to be friends with them when we were younger. Before they met you.”

“What?” Sam turned to stare at him. “Why are you so mean to them then?”

“My parents didn’t like Fenton’s parents. Or all the nonsense they were spouting about ghosts. I’d come home and tell them all about it and they thought the Fenton’s were ‘corrupting my mind’ or something like that.”

Phantom turned his head to look at Dash.

“My parents told me I couldn’t be his friend anymore. And I told Danny that, but he didn’t get it. And he and Tucker were a package deal at that point. They were more inseparable than me and Danny had ever been. So I just… told them that I didn’t want to be their friend anymore. That they weren’t cool enough. I think I hit one of them. They didn’t go out of their way to talk to me after that.”

They sat in silence for a moment after that.

“Parents, amiright?” Sam said quietly, as she looked at Phantom. “My parents are like that. They try to get me to stop being friends with Danny all the time but I argue too much with them for it to ever stick. Or I don’t tell them when I’m hanging out with Danny.”

“At least you have that luxury.” Dash looked at the ground. “If I don’t listen to my parents… Well, they like to use their fists more than their words.”

Sam covered her mouth.

Dash let out a short laugh.

“And now ghosts are real and they keep asking me all sorts of questions like they expect me to remember the things they told me were bad and wanted me to forget.”

Dash was startled when he felt a hand on his arm. He looked up and saw that Phantom was still staring at him.

“It’s not your fault.”

Dash shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He shifted so that instead of kneeling on his knees, he was sitting on the ground. He ran his hands through his hair roughly.

“It is my fault!” Dash ground out. “I didn’t have to treat them the way I did! I could’ve broken the cycle but now I’m just like my parents.”

“You don’t have to be.” Sam said. “There’s always time to change. Hell, admitting to how shitty you’ve been is a pretty good start.”

Dash sighed. Phantom looked like he was about to say something but he was interrupted by Tucker sprinting into the alley, out of breath.

“I’m here! I’m here. Did you guys get it figured out?”

Sam nodded and gestured at Dash. “He helped us out again. He really came in clutch there.”

Dash nodded and stood up. “I guess I should get going now. I don’t want to-”

“Wait!” Sam held her hands up in a stop motion. She stood up to look at him. “Do you want to join team Phantom?”

“What?” Tucker looked at her, shocked. “Why are you asking Dash to join the team? I thought you-”

“Clearly having another person around will be beneficial.” Sam interrupted Tucker without looking at him. “You’ve already helped us twice. You could even teach us to sew and stitch up wounds better.”

Dash looked between the three of them. He wasn’t a part of whatever they had going. Would they really be okay with him joining their team? Did they really want him to be a part of it? Or was it just a pity offer?

“Why would you want me to join your team?” Dash said quietly.

“You care more than I thought you did.” Sam said.

Dash laughed. That didn’t seem like a very concrete reason.

“Break the cycle.”

Dash looked back up at where Phantom still sat on the ground. He was staring at Dash.

“Break the cycle.” He said again. “Prove that you can be better. If not for us, just do it for yourself.”

Dash looked away. He nodded. That sounded like a good reason. Work to break the cycle his parents put him in. He nodded again.

“Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll join Team Phantom.”

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

Dash stood outside Tucker’s door awkwardly. Tucker said now would be a good time to come over so they could practice sewing. He hasn’t knocked yet though. He hadn’t been back here since they were all still friends.

He lifted his hand up and paused for a moment. Finally, he brought his fist down on the door and knocked twice.

“I’ve got it!” Tucker shouted from inside the house. He heard some shuffling and then a muffled, “Mom!”

Then the door opened, but instead of Tucker it was his mom. His eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. She looked behind her where Tucker was standing and then looked back at Dash. Tucker shrugged behind her.

“Why, Dash, I haven’t seen you in such a long time. How have you been?” She asked him.

He nodded. “Good, good. Things have been fine. How have you been?”

“Things have been good here.” She looked between Tucker and Dash again. “What brings you over after so long?”

“I, uh..” Dash stammered. They didn’t come up with an excuse. He really couldn’t tell her they were practicing sewing so they could sew up wounds.

“Class project!” Sam’s voice came from down the steps behind him. He turned to see her hurrying up the stairs. “We’re going to be working on our sewing today for class. Dash is going to practice with us.”

“Ohh.” Tucker’s mom nodded. “Well that sounds fun. Do you guys have any projects in the making?”

“We’re not quite there yet, mom.” Tucker said as he stepped forward. “We’re still learning so we’ll probably just be sewing squares of fabric together.”

She nodded again. “Let me know if you kids have any questions. I know a thing or two about sewing myself.” She smiled at them.

“Thanks, mom. We will.” Tucker waved them into the house and then closed the door behind them once they were both inside. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

He followed behind both Tucker and Sam as they made their way up the stairs. He hadn’t been here in a very long time but little had changed over the years. Except for maybe new photos that had been hung up on the wall.

They reached the top of the stairs and then Tucker pulled down the attic door and unfolded the ladder. They climbed up there and Dash had the fleeting thought that if they wanted to make him disappear, an attic would be a pretty good place to make that happen.

“Boo.”

Dash jumped as a voice spoke close into his ear and then laughter erupted from an invisible mouth.

“Oh that was good. I haven’t been able to get Sam or Tucker that good in a long time.”

Phantom dropped his invisibility and appeared in front of Dash. Dash chuckled nervously.

“Phantom, don’t be too mean to him. We’re trying to make amends, remember?” Sam called to them while she and Tucker dug through some box.

“Yeah, yeah.” Phantom waved her comment off. He looked back at Dash. “I gotta have fun with this whole ghost thing somehow though, right?”

Dash nodded. “I can’t say I would be so chivalrous if I had your powers. I’d probably be sneaking into the girl’s locker room or something.”

“Eh. It was exciting the first couple times but now the novelty has worn off.”

Dash’s eyes widened. Phantom went to spy in the girl’s locker room?

“Anyways.” Phantom drawled out. “What will I be doing today?”

Dash stared at him. “You’ll also be learning to sew.”

Phantom frowned. “Why?”

“If Sam or Tucker, or even me, ever get hurt during one of your ghost fights it might be useful for you to know. Or if you ever have an occasion where you’re alone and need to do it yourself, if you’re able to of course.”

“Are you gonna be like, our teacher?” Sam asked Dash.

Dash shrugged. “I can explain the basics but this is mostly just practice time.”

They got to work practicing their sewing. Sam and Tucker were working together on the other side of the attic while Dash worked with Phantom. They had cut up squares of fabric that they were sewing together. Phantom looked up at Dash as he pulled a thread through his two pieces he had in his hands.

“Why’d you learn to sew?” Danny asked. “It’s not something most guys pick up.”

Dash shrugged. “My parents liked to wreck a lot of my things growing up. They destroyed a lot of stuffed animals, but when they ripped apart the last teddy bear I got from my grandma before she passed away I decided I was going to take it into my own hands and fix it.”

“Oh.” Phantom’s shoulders dropped and he looked at Dash sadly. “I’m sorry they did that.”

“They’re not good people.” Dash made a couple more stitches on his own squares in his hands. “It hurt when I realized that.”

Phantom nodded. “Sometimes I worry that my parents are bad people. They want to hurt me but I know they’re not actually bad.”

“How are they not bad? You just said they want to hurt you.” Dash frowned at him.

“It’s more complicated because of the whole ghost thing.” Phantom shook his head. “They don’t know who I am.”

Dash’s eyes widened. “What? How can they not know?”

Phantom’s sad expression turned into a smirk. “I’ve got to keep some of my secrets.”

Dash rolled his eyes. “Okay, Inviso-bill.”

“Hey!” Phantom pushed his shoulder.

His skin tingled where Phantom had touched him through his jacket. They smiled at each other and Dash looked back down at the fabric in his hands. They worked for another couple moments before Phantom spoke again.

“What if we sewed them all together?”

“What?” Dash looked back up at him.

“The squares.” Phantom held up his small pile he had gathered while they were working. “We could sew all the squares we make together and turn them into a blanket.”

“Ohh. That’d be cool.” He turned around in his seat. “Yo, Manson. Foley!”

They turned around to face him. “What?”

“Phantom wants to turn our squares into blankets.”

“I like that idea.” Tucker said.

“Does your mom have a sewing machine? It might be easier to sew all the rows together with the sewing machine once we get that far.”

Tucker nodded. “Let me go ask her for it.”

He headed downstairs. Sam stood up and walked over to them.

“How’s your practice going?” She asked.

“Good.” Phantom held up his work so far. The stitches were getting neater and tighter as he showed Sam his progress.

As Dash was showing Sam his own squares, Tucker made his way back up the ladder to the attic. He hefted the sewing machine up onto the floor and climbed up with some extra fabric and some kind of stuffing. He let out a breath.

“My mom gave us some fabric and some quilt batting so we can finish turning it into a blanket.”

“How do we decide who gets to keep the blanket?” Dash asked.

Phantom looked at him. “I think you should get it. We can always make more if we’re going to keep practicing sewing. You should get the first one.”

“Yeah.” Sam said. “It can be a thank you for taking the time to teach us and practice with us.”

“Let’s get this bad boy finished.”

They spent the next couple hours practicing sewing the squares by hand and once they were all sewed together Dash took them to the sewing machine. They got all the rows assembled and the blanket put together with the stuffing inside. Dash stood up and held it up for everyone to look at.

Tucker clapped. “Great work everyone. Just, wow.”

Sam rolled her eyes.

Dash lowered it and smiled at them.

“Here.”

Phantom floated forward and grabbed the other end of the blanket and helped Dash fold it. Their fingers met as they folded it together. Phantom passed his end to Dash and their fingers grazed as he pulled away.

“Thanks.” They stared at each other for a few moments. Dash cleared his throat. “Well. I should get going. It’s getting kind of late.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Sam checked the time on her phone. My parents are gonna start calling me if I don’t get home soon.”

“Thanks for helping us out Dash.” Phantom called as Dash started making his way down the ladder. Dash smiled at him.

“Thanks for giving me the chance.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dash stepped out of the school. It was empty in the schoolyard. Dash had had to stay late to finish up a test with one of his teachers.

“Hey.”

Dash jumped at the voice beside him. Phantom flickered into visibility.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Dash pouted.

Phantom shrugged and held his head in his hand as he floated next to Dash. “It’s funny. Like I said, I can’t get Sam and Tucker like that anymore.”

“Where are they anyways?” Dash crossed the street in front of the school and started the walk home.

“They’re busy.” Phantom groaned and flipped onto his back midair. “They had some very important stuff to do and they said I couldn’t come with them.”

“So tragic.” Dash smiled and shook his head at Phantom’s antics.

Phantom laughed as he floated backwards on his back beside Dash, his arms crossed behind his head. Dash smiled as he watched him, a warm feeling growing in his chest. Phantom’s smile felt like the sun.

“I think they’re trying to surprise me for my birthday. It’s coming up soon.”

Dash’s eyes widened. “You still celebrate your birthday?”

Phantom shot a look back at him. “Yeah? Don’t you still celebrate yours?”

“Yeah, but you’re a ghost. Wouldn’t you celebrate your death day instead?”

Phantom scrunched up his nose and stared at a point from where they had come. “I try as hard as I can to not think about my death day. It was painful.”

“What was it like? Dying?”

Phantom turned to face Dash. He studied his face for a moment before he spoke.

“I-”

A roar sounded from ahead of them on the street they were walking down. A ghost turned around the corner of a building and stared down at them.

“Stay back.” Phantom said to him and flew away. He flew circles around the ghost's head and soon it was facing back the other way. It roared when Phantom shot an ectoblast between its eyes.

It swung at him again and again, its slow paws trying and trying to hit Phantom.

“You sure are slow!” Phantom smirked at the ghost and spun onto his back. “You fight like my sister.”

The ghost roared again and Phantom flew back to avoid the swipe but he didn’t move fast enough.

The ghost scratched Phantom across the chest as he flew back. Dash could hear him hiss from where he stood on the ground.

“That’s all you got, ghost?” Phantom held his fists back up.

As if taking that as a challenge, the ghost shrieked. It reared up for another hit. Phantom dodged the first one but wasn’t so lucky the second time.

When the ghost’s claws connected with Phantom, Dash could hear the sound of his suit ripping. The ghost spun and sent him flying backwards down the street.

“Phantom!” Dash shouted as he turned to look where Phantom had been thrown behind him.

He laid there on the ground. He was hardly moving. The ghost started closing in, not paying any mind to Dash.

“Hey!” Dash swung his arms in the air, trying to get the ghost’s attention. It finally looked down at him and paused.

“Yeah! Leave him alone!” Dash shouted. He stuck a hand into his backpack and pulled out that lipstick laser that Tucker gave him. He aimed it at the ghost and took a shaky shot.

It hit the ghost in the chest and it roared, charging at him. Dash took a step back but he yanked his backpack off, desperately digging out the thermos. He shakily pulled it out of his backpack just as the ghost was getting to him and he pressed the button.

The ghost loomed over him before it got sucked into the thermos. Once it was gone, Dash closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. Then his eyes snapped back open and he turned around.

Phantom.

He ran down the street to where Phantom lay. Phantom’s eyes opened as Dash got closer. Thank god.

“Hey. How bad is it?” Dash asked as he dropped down to his knees on the pavement.

Phantom hissed as he sat up. “Not the worst I’ve ever had. I’m not sure any of these need stitches.”

“Are you sure?” Dash studied his suit where it was torn. “I could literally hear your suit get shredded from where I was standing.”

“Yeah.” Phantom nodded. “I think a good chunk of things I need to have stitched up are because I kept fighting and tore them and made them worse.” He looked up at Dash. “Thanks, by the way. For helping me with that ghost.”

“Whaat? It was nothing.” Dash smiled at him.

Phantom laughed. “I could see you shaking in your boots from here.”

Dash crossed his arms and turned his nose up away from Phantom. “Fighting ghosts is a lot scarier without fancy ghost powers.”

“Yeah, but really, thanks.”

Dash looked back at Phantom. He couldn’t help it. It was the first thing he could think to do. He wasn’t going to just let a ghost get him when he couldn’t fight.

Dash was lost in thought for a moment before his mind wandered back to Phantom’s injury.

“Do you at least want that bandaged even if you don’t need stitches?”

Phantom nodded. “Yeah. It’ll help stop the bleeding.”

Dash dug through his backpack where it sat next to him when he dropped it. He pulled out his first aid kit.

“Gauze or giant band aid?” Dash asked.

Phantom looked down at his chest where the scratches were. He thought for a moment.

“Probably gauze. I think these are too long for a giant bandaid.”

Dash nodded. He pulled the gauze out and turned back to Phantom. He blushed.

“What?” Phantom asked.

The thought of Dash asking Phantom to undress was frazzling Dash’s brain. He only had to unzip the top part of his jumpsuit but he’d never seen Phantom in anything besides that before. What would he look like underneath?

“I need, uh, you to unzip the top part of your jumpsuit so I can wrap the gauze around your chest.”

Phantom looked back down at his chest. “Oh.” He unzipped the front of his jumpsuit and pulled his arms out. He looked back up at Dash.

Dash’s blush went all the way up to his ears and he tried not to stare but he couldn’t help it. Phantom’s skin was so different from other ghosts. He was so much more human-like than them.

Phantom held his hand out for Dash and he looked back up to his face.

“I can do this if it’s too weird for you.”

“It’s not weird!” Dash blurted out. “I just, uh- I don’t-”

Phantom grabbed the gauze out of Dash’s hand and started wrapping it around his chest. “That’s okay. Sam was kind of awkward the first time she had to do this too.”

Dash nodded, but he was disappointed. This could’ve been an opportunity to get close to Phantom. To maybe graze a hand against his skin. Feel what a ghosts skin would-

“Dash?”

He jumped. “Yeah?”

“I’m all done. Here.” Phantom tossed the roll of gauze back to Dash. He fumbled to catch it and when he did he stowed it back in his first aid kit.

Dash put everything back in his backpack and threw it back on his shoulder. He stood up and waited for Phantom to shove his arms back into his sleeves before he offered his hands to help Phantom up.

Phantom looked at them for a moment before he reached up and grabbed onto Dash’s hands. Dash pulled Phantom to his feet and then they just stared at each other. Dash’s grip on Phantom’s hands tightened. He took a step closer to Phantom but then someone shouted at them.

“Look! It’s Phantom!”

Dash looked up around him and was shocked to see how many people had gathered around them. Where had they all come from? Were they all watching the ghost fight from their homes?

“Phantom, who is this boy? Why is he helping you?”

“Is that your boyfriend?”

“Who would be crazy enough to date a dead person?”

The voices clamored around them and Dash felt like they were pressing in on him. Phantom glanced at him and let go of his hands and instead wrapped an arm around his side.

“Gotta go!”

“Wait, wha-!”

Dash yelped as he was pulled into the air with Phantom as he took off in flight. He’d never flown before. Not even in a plane. He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his arm around Phantom’s shoulder. The flight was quick and soon they were touching down on the ground.

Dash peeked an eye open and saw that they were standing in front of his house.

“That was fast.” Dash said, out of breath.

“Yeah.” Phantom smiled at him. “My top speed we’ve clocked so far is a hundred and twelve miles per hour. I can get anywhere in town pretty darn fast.”

“Dang. That’s cool. Kinda scary.”

Phantom smiled. “You get used to it after a while.”

They looked at each other for a moment before Phantom seemed to remember he was still holding onto Dash. He coughed and pulled his hand away and it drifted across Dash’s back, leaving a trail of butterfly inducing tingles.

“Well, I gotta go. I have things to do.”

Dash let out a nervous laugh. “How busy can a ghost possibly be?”

“Like I’ve said, I’ve got to keep some of my secrets.”

Phantom started floating up into the air.

“Aw, come on. We’re not close enough for that yet?” Dash shouted up at him.

He smiled down at Dash. “Not quite. Maybe one day.”

Phantom waved down at Dash and then he flew away. Dash’s heart fluttered and he waved back belatedly.

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

Dash was laying in bed. He was ready to go to sleep after such a long day. He could almost fall asleep right now.

He started drifting off but was interrupted a moment later.

Phantom flew through Dash’s bedroom wall and crashed onto his bed. Dash jumped up and stared at the boy that was suddenly next to him.

“Phantom?” Dash exclaimed.

He was curled up on his side next to Dash, holding his stomach.

“I didn’t… I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Tucker is out of town and the far frozen was too far away for this one- ah!” He clenched his stomach again.

“No, no. That’s what I’m here for. That’s why you guys agreed to let me join your team. So that there was someone else there to patch you up.”

Phantom shook his head. “This one’s worse. There’s a chance I’ll-”

A white ring appeared around his waist. Phantom tensed up and groaned before it disappeared again.

“What was that?” Dashed asked, staring.

Phantom shook his head. “You need to start stitching the wound up now. If we wait it’ll start bleeding faster. We can’t-” He tensed up again. Sparks flew around his middle. “We have to hurry.”

At Phantom’s plea, he hurriedly got up and grabbed his first aid kit from under his bed. He kneeled down and Phantom turned to his side to face him.

“Can you uncurl for me? I need to take a look.”

Phantom nodded and slowly pulled his arms away from his stomach. They were covered in ectoplasm. Dash gulped and studied the wound. It was deep. Ectoplasm was steadily oozing out of it. He pulled a pair of gloves on.

“This is pretty deep, what if I can’t-”

“Sewing it shut will help.” Phantom grimaced. “Once the wound is shut my healing abilities will have an easier time mending it.”

Dash nodded. “Okay.”

He took a deep breath and got started. Phantom flinched with every touch of the needle. Dash was halfway done when the ring appeared around his waist again. Phantom struggled to push it away, but it disappeared after a few seconds.

“Phantom.” Dash kept stitching the wound closed. “What’s happening?”

“I can’t keep it back anymore.” Phantom ground out. “When I transform, I’m going to start bleeding much faster. You have to keep stitching me up, no matter what.”

“What? When you transform? What does that-”

The rings appeared around Phantom’s waist a final time. Dash tried to keep his focus on stitching Phantom’s wound, but then the rings split. They revealed a very familiar shirt underneath them.

“I’m sorry.”

The rings finished traveling over the rest of Phantom’s body. Dash’s hands shook as the ectoplasm that was steadily coming out of the wound turned into blood. The pace increased and Dash got a glimpse at Phantom’s face as the rings went over his head and Danny Fenton was left in his place.

Danny met his gaze for a moment and then his eyes fluttered closed.

“Danny?” Dash whispered.

He didn’t move and Dash went back to stitching up the wound. He was almost done and he was hoping this would be enough. That Danny wouldn’t…

He shook his head. He couldn’t think like that. He had already seen the impossible. Danny wouldn’t die. He couldn’t.

He made his last stitch and cut the thread. He grabbed a bag and disposed of everything inside it. He was about to put the first aid kit away when he thought about putting a bandage on top of Danny’s stitches.

He pulled a bandage and some gauze out of the first aid kit and when he turned back around Danny’s eyes were already open, staring at Dash.

“You’re awake already?” Dash whispered. “I wasn’t sure- I was afraid that-”

Danny shook his head. “My healing powers are already working. It just needed help getting started. It can’t heal if it’s still bleeding so much like that.”

Dash let out a deep breath. “I’m glad to hear.”

A pause stretched between them and Dash looked down at his hands and saw the gauze and bandage he was holding. He held them up.

“Do you want these on there too? Would it help?”

Danny nodded. “They’ll help make sure I don’t bleed into my clothes.”

Dash nodded back at him. “Your shirt looks pretty bad too. Do you want one of mine?”

Danny shrugged. “Sure.”

He set the bandage and gauze down on the bed and headed to his dresser. He pulled out a shirt and turned back around to see Danny pulling his shirt off.

Heat rose to Dash’s face and the comments Phantom made that first time Dash helped him came to mind. Tucker’s laugh echoed inside his head.

Man, you’re not gonna live this one down.

Sam and Tucker must know. That’s why they were being so weird that night.

He sat down at the edge of his bed and looked at Danny. He peeled the back of the bandage off and put it over Danny’s stitches. He spread his hand out over it, pressing the edges down, making sure they were sticking to Danny’s skin properly.

“Can you sit up?” Dash asked. Danny nodded and pushed himself up, wincing.

Dash leaned closer to Danny and started winding the gauze around his torso. Once he was done, he looked up to see Danny’s face only a few inches from his own.

They stared at each other for a few moments before they both spoke at once.

“I’m sorry.”

Both of their eyes widened. Dash sat up.

“Why are you sorry? I was literally the one wailing on you for so long.”

Danny shook his head. “I lied to you. I never told you who I was. I could see the way you looked at me, but I didn’t think you’d look at me like that if you knew I was also Danny.”

Dash flushed. “You could tell.” He breathed out.

“Yeah I could.” Then he rolled his eyes. “And if I couldn’t, Tucker would’ve made sure I knew anyway.”

“Tucker knows too?” Dash whispered. He didn’t think anyone could see his developing feelings for Phantom. He thought they just would have assumed it was because he was Phantom’s biggest fan.

“Yeah. No offense, but it was pretty obvious. Especially if even I could tell.”

Dash groaned and covered his face with his hands as he leaned back onto his bed. He felt Danny lean over to look down at him. Dash opened his eyes.

Danny met his eyes. His eyes traveled down his face to his lips. He slowly bent down and pressed his lips against Dash’s. Dash closed his eyes again and after a few seconds Danny pulled away.

“It helped that I was looking for it, though.”

Dash smiled up at him. “You did call me cute that one time.”

Now it was Danny’s turn to groan. “I don’t even know what I was thinking. I hardly even remember that.”

Dash placed a hand on the back of Danny’s head and pulled him back down and kissed him again.

“Did Tucker ever let you live it down?”

Danny laughed. “No. Of course not.”

“I bet it’ll be even worse now.” Dash said against Danny’s lips.

“Oh, you bet it will.”

Dash kissed Danny one more time and gently pulled him down to lay beside him.

#gorgi writes #danny phantom #dash baxter #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #swagger bishie #fanfiction #phic phight 2024 #fanfic #fic #phic

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sphireath-wisp · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! It's my first time requesting something. I just came back from the obey me confessions page, I would love if you wrote the brothers reactions after they found out that mc tried to stir up drama on purpose. Feel free to ignore, love your writing❤️

oh my goodness, thank you so much. I know I promised a part 2 recently, but I wanted to finish this first. The anon here refers to this post for anyone who's lost.

Lucifer thinks he's too busy for this and assumes people are just bored, watering the post down to fake news. What's with the surge in fake news in devildom anyway? He sighs deeply - a testament to how much he thinks this is such a waste of time. It was a terrible idea for Diavolo to approve of this confession page, rumors like this tarnishing your name only push him to take the account down.

Mammon wastes no time. He bursts into your room - even when he knows you're at Purgatory Hall for your weekly visit. Wait... purgatory hall? Oh my Diavolo, how could you! He's your first man and you can't just be going around kissing randoms like that. Completely ignoring Levi chiding him for the mess he's making, Mammon dashes out the door with his heart pounding in his chest. Who knows what that shady sorcerer could be doing to you now? And why him, anyway?!

Levi hears the ruckus from Mammon scrambling around in your room. Levi knows he's the type of scattered-brained idiot to forget how you're sleeping over at Purgatory Hall today, but really? Messing up your room like that? As someone who considers his room to be his safe space, seeing your space safe like that... he's really annoyed. What is Mammon rambling about anyway? You kissed Solomon? Jeez, what an idiot. Who would believe fake news like that?

Satan would rather hear it from you himself. This page is unreliable. Unless he hears it from your own mouth, he isn't too bothered by it. Admittedly, it does irk him though, but he's not the type to ask you bluntly out loud. He'll gauge your reactions and observe for now. Being too hasty with his assumptions would only make him more upset.

Asmo screams and I mean SCREAMS out in shock. He's typing away on his D.D.D., practically begging you or Solomon to answer. "Is it true? You all kissed?!" He's so proud of you, MC! Being so bold and brazen in RAD, he'll make sure to give you a surprise of his own soon!

Beel doesn't check his devilgram much and he doesn't post a lot either. The only reason why the post reached his ears was because of Belphie, but he doesn't have much of a reaction to it. It doesn't concern him and plus, anyone could have anonymously sent that right? Maybe Solomon himself posted that, only someone who cooks so horribly would try to stir the pot like this.

Belphie's pissed. You're kidding, right? There's no way. Is that why you left to sit with Solomon earlier that day? While Beel's reasoning did calm his nerves down a little, don't expect to run away to Purgatory Hall now. Both of them are on their way to Purgatory Hall as we speak and you better pray Solomon has a plan or else you're getting dragged back to HOL as soon as they get there.

Bonus:

Solomon is extremely amused, delighted even. He had the luxury of getting a sweet kiss from you and now, he has you on his bed right by him teaching you spells. As long as he ignores the constant buzz of his D.D.D. in the background and the missed calls, he feels like this night is perfect. Perhaps you'll give him another kiss tonight? Perhaps he'll make sure to record it this time as proof?

#obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #obey me x y/n #obey me shitpost #obey me crack #obey me shall we date #obey me brothers #obey me #obey me solomon #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphie #obey me beelzebub #obey me satan

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starstruckunknown-princess · 10 months ago

Text

Peony - Steven Grant x Reader

Peony (Paeonia) - Shame, bashfulness

Summary: A slight comedy of errors forces reader and Steven to admit and act on some spicy feelings.

Pairing: Steven Grant x F!Reader

Word Count: 1790

Warnings: Reader is AFAB/Female presenting/has breasts, Steven being adorably embarrassed and awkward, use of "tits", male masturbation (non-explicitly described), excessive euphemisms for masturbation, discussions of masturbation, lots of kissing, making out

Day 10 coming in with some more spice! I love the Moon Boys and thought I'd give Steven a chance to ramble his way into our hearts.

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, Reblogs are always appreciated! ❤️

You were scrambling to clean your flat as you waited for Steven — he was coming over to watch ‘The Mummy’ which, surprisingly, he had never seen. After your shift, you’d come home with the full intention of cleaning but had fallen asleep on your couch instead, only having woken up five minutes ago when he called to ask what you liked on your pizza. Your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness as you gathered all the dirty clothes on your bedroom floor and chucked them into the closet. You’d gotten rid of the lingering trash on your coffee table, taken care of the dishes in the sink, and spot-cleaned your bathroom.

Nothing like the panic-induced cleaning of a woman whose work-friend-turned-crush is on his way over.

Looking down at your outfit, you realized you were still in your work attire — pencil skirt and fancy-ish blouse, both now wrinkled from your nap. You stripped off your blouse and bra and were halfway off with your skirt when you heard something ‘slap’ against the floor behind you.

Without thinking, you spun around and saw Steven in the doorway, mouth agape and a pizza box at his feet. It happened so fast — you seeing him, his eyes glancing at your bare tits, back to your face, and his hasty retreat with a steady stream of ‘I’m sorrys” falling out of his mouth.

“Wait, Steven!” you shouted after him, grabbing your discarded blouse and trying to chase after him, but he was already gone. You sighed heavily against the door to your flat, tapping your forehead against it.

Part of you was horrified — Steven had just seen you half-naked and not in the sexy way — while the other part of you was excited. Steven had seen you half-naked! Perhaps now he would make a move or, barring that, let you know he liked you as much as you liked him.

But that’s not what happened. The next day you saw him at work, you waved but he grabbed the phone, fumbling it and pretending to be in the middle of a call.

When you were on your break, you headed toward the gift shop but just as you got there, you caught sight of Steven dashing around the corner with a box full of stuffed Basts.

By the time your shift was over, you’d had enough. You strode up to the gift shop counter, trapping him behind it. He had the temerity to look scared of you, so you softened your approach and spoke quietly so none of the people milling about would hear you.

“Look, Steven, you saw my tits, big whoop,” you said, “I’m not mad at you or anything, there’s no need to avoid me. We’re still friends, yeah?”

He ran a hand through his thick curls and sighed. “‘M sorry, course we’re still friends. I just…I wasn’t expecting…those when I walked in.” He gestured to your chest and you laughed.

You playfully punched him in the shoulder, “Well, I hope you learned a lesson about knocking next time. And, hey, thanks for the pizza.”

He laughed and the tension between you evaporated. It had always been like that with Steven - easy going, honest, like nothing was too complicated that you couldn’t laugh your way out of.

“You still haven’t seen The Mummy and we need to remedy that as soon as possible,” you said semi-seriously.

“Tell ya what,” he said, “Why don’t you come to mine tonight and we’ll watch it. You bring the pizza this time.”

“It’s a da- plan.” You stopped yourself before you could say ‘date.’

_____

In your excitement for the evening’s activities, you ended up being about ten minutes early to Steven’s flat. He’d texted you his front door code and said he’d leave his door open since you’d be coming with your hands full. Half-jokingly, you knocked softly on the door before letting yourself in.

Steven’s flat was unlike yours in that it was one big room divided by his overstuffed bookshelves and piles of even more books. The only room with a door was the bathroom, and that was little more than a curtain. You were surprised you didn’t immediately see him, but you heard a grunt coming from the bedroom area.

You put the pizza on the kitchen table then made your way toward the noise.

When you got closer, you saw Steven was facing away from you on the far side of his bed. He looked to be stroking something in his lap—oh.

Oh.

You didn’t manage to silence your gasp when you realized what he was doing, and he jumped up in shock, yanking his gray sweatpants up so you didn’t see anything.

“Shit!”

“Oh, God, sorry!” you said, covering your eyes. In your haste to turn away, you managed to smack your elbow into the corner of one of his bookshelves. Pain shot down your forearm because of course you’d managed to hit your funny bone. You gripped it, hissing at the pain with your eyes closed and tripping over one of the book piles and ending up splayed out on the floor.

Steven cried your name and dashed over, helping you sit up and checking you for injuries. He helped you stand up, making sure you were steady before taking a step back.

“I didn’t see anything,” you insisted, crouching down to help him pick up the books you knocked over.

“You don’t have to-”

“I knocked, I swear!”

“Please, don’t worry-”

“I’m so sorry, Steven,” you said, looking up from the small stack of books you’d balanced on your knees. His brow was furrowed, cheeks red with embarrassment.

“No, love, I’m sorry. I knew you were on your way but I couldn’t help myself. Not like it’s an ongoing issue, like compulsive or anything, but I couldn’t help but remember yesterday and, well,” he paused, gesturing toward your chest again, “and I didn’t want to greet you at the door with a raging hard-on so I thought I’d just, y’know, take care of it real quick but then you walked in and now I’m…rambling. Here, I’ll take those.”

He reached for the books you were holding and you handed them off. He set them on a different stack a few steps away and rubbed the back of his head, facing away from you again.

“Wait,” you said, brain finally catching up with what he was saying, “You…you were thinking about me? While you were…shining your statue?”

Steven let out a bark of nervous laughter, “Shining my statue?”

“Yeah, you know, shining the statue, flogging the dolphin, spanking the monkey, playing with the one-eyed snake, having a me-some.”

You both burst out laughing at that. When you calmed down, he was shaking his head in disbelief while he fiddled with the too-long sleeves of his jumper.

“So um, I brought pizza,” you said, motioning to the kitchen table, “if you still want to watch the movie. But if you’d rather I go, I totally get it.”

“No!” he blurted, one hand reaching out to catch you even though you hadn’t moved an inch. “Let’s watch the movie, yeah?”

The two of you moved in sync, gathering plates and the pizza before settling on his bed, his laptop between you as he queued up the movie. You ate in companionable silence until Evie was bargaining for Rick’s life in the prison when Steven hit the spacebar and paused it.

You turned to him to find him already looking at you. The look in his eyes was sheepish, as if he didn’t want to say something but knew he had to. Your nerves kicked in — was all of this a bigger deal than you thought? Had he been stewing on it? Your instinct was to diffuse tension with humor but, as you’d been told by more than one ex, sometimes it felt like you didn’t take things seriously as you should.

“What’s up?” you asked.

“I, uh, I didn’t answer your question.”

You tilted your head, confused. “What question?”

“About thinking about you while I, uh, wank.”

“Oh,”

“Cuz I do. Think about you. Not that I see you as just a sexual object, I think you’re absolutely brilliant but you’re also dead sexy and after what happened at yours it’s like I, I can’t get you out of my head so I thought avoiding you would make it go away but that just made my massive crush on you way worse-”

He wasn’t just rambling, he was rambling about how much he liked you — how he stroked himself to the thought of you and thought you were brilliant and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you. But the most important part was that he had a crush on you, too.

You cut him off with a kiss, having heard more than enough.

Gentle at first, allowing him plenty of room to pull away if he wanted, but he pressed his lips against yours instead. One of his hands wrapped around the back of your neck, the other sliding around your waist.

You brushed your tongue against his lower lip and he opened for you, licking into your mouth in a way that made you clench around nothing. Fuck — you had caught him fucking his fist to the thought of you half-naked. That thought plus his hand wandering under the hem of your t-shirt had you incredibly wet, almost dripping.

Eventually, you came up for air. Steven looked gorgeous, lips slightly swollen from kissing and his blissed-out expression. You wondered what he looked like as he came, a smile forming on your face as you realized you would find out if you kept going.

“Whatcha smilin’ about?” he asked, running a hand over your hair and letting it rest on your cheek. You turned your head and kissed his palm as an answer, then moved to the sensitive skin of his wrist.

“You,” you replied simply.

“C’mere,” he said, his hand on your hips pulling you over so you were straddling his lap. He sat up and kissed you again, hungrier this time, his hands roaming freely along your back, over your breasts, along your arms. His lips left yours and he kissed along your jaw, down your neck. Heat spread from every point of contact, leaving you wanting more but not without a little teasing first.

“Steven,” you whined, “what about the movie?”

“Sod the fucking movie,” he growled against your neck, one hand reaching over to slam his laptop shut and coming back to rest on your ass, pulling you against him.

“Gonna show you what I’ve wanted to do to ya since we met,” he promised, and you bit your lip to keep from beaming at him.

#writing challenge #fanfiction #moon knight #moon knight fic #moon knight fanfic #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant #steven grant smut #mcu fanfic #marc spector #jake lockley #moon knight system

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fieldsofchai · 3 months ago

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a/n: lol i said i would post this some time tomorrow but i couldn’t sleep so here we are now. this is the first fic that i'm posting! i've been absolutely obsessed with fom and i have been binge-playing it, especially since the new update came out. march might be a little ooc but i had a lot of fun writing this, to be honest. please leave a request in my ask box!

content contains: self-doubt, mutual pining, loneliness, unrequited love, gender-neutral reader, valentines day like holiday, march is bad at feelings, fluff with the tiniest dash of angst

content rating: pg

March huffed as Olric continued to go on and on. Blah blah blah, hearts day, blah blah blah, he should ask someone. It was the same thing every year. March wanted to feel irritated that he would get nagged for the same thing every year, making friends and whatnot, yet a small part of it found it endearing. Cute, almost, though he would never admit it out loud. Knowing his brother cared as much as he cared for him was good. It was too bad those feelings immediately disappeared upon hearing the next words that flew out of his mouth.

“So what do you think? I get Reina to bake the sweets and you can deliver it to them by the end of the day!” Olric exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear as if he had just come up with the best idea in the world.

March snapped his head up from the sword he was working on. Admittedly, he hadn’t been paying attention to what Olric was talking about. He had just assumed it would be the same old stuff that he says every year. He hadn’t expected him to actually have some type of plan put in action.

“What?” March asked with a confused expression on his face, yet there was still a blush that somehow rose on his cheeks. He already knew who Olric was talking about. That damn new farmer.

Ever since they had moved here they had been a pain in his ass. He had tried to give off subtle hints that he wasn’t too interested in being their friend. After all, he didn't think they would actually stick around. Yet, a couple of months later they were still somehow here. To be frank, he had come to actually… tolerate their presence but for some odd reason they seemed to think they were best friends.

So what if every evening they would somehow find him with some type of perfect ore in their hands, knowing he was the only one in town who would actually appreciate it’s beauty.

So what if they looked a little banged up and dirty from presumably fighting god knows what in the mines and it would never fail to make his heart swell with appreciation, but also a whole lot of concern.

So what if they always find a way around to the forge every morning to wish him a good morning and check in on him, so much so to the point that he looks forward to it every day and finds himself wondering what could possibly be going on with them on the rare occasion that they’re not there.

So what if he finds his heart fluttering just a little bit when he sees them walking into the inn on friday nights. He probably just needs to get a check up from Valen.

“Bro, weren’t you listening? I was giving you a run down of this totally ultimate plan to ask the farmer to be your date for hearts day tonight! Just you wait! In no time you two will be walking down the aisle and-”

“Lower your voice!” March hissed out. Nobody was around but he could already feel his face heating up and growing bright red from how loud he was being about this plan that he would no way agree to participate in. “I’m not asking them out. Never in a million years!” March exclaimed to Olric. He was whisper shouting now, afraid someone would walk by and hear, even though there was nobody around and everyone was busy with their own duties for the day.

Olric blinked at March. “Why not? Everyone is town knows you like them.” he said to him with a confused tilt of his head. He wasn’t even trying to mock poor March, he was just genuinely confused because, as far as he knew, March really did obviously have a thing for the farmer right up the street.

March just glared at him in response. “If everyone thinks that then this entire town is dense. I do not like the farmer.” March responded with, eagerly looking down and continuing his work. He just hoped the conversation would be over now. He nipped it in the bud and he would really prefer to be done with his work before nighttime so he can relax while everyone else goes out for their dates.

March paused his movements. Briefly, he wondered if the farmer already had plans tonight. They weren’t ugly by any means and they certainly did have a way of putting a smile on everyone’s face. Surely someone had asked them out by now. Maybe Balor? He had certainly been eyeing them since they first arrived in town. Or maybe it was possibly Reina. March always saw the two shopping and cooking together. He was sure they had forged some type of close bond by now. Probably a better bond than anything he could offer them…

“You know…” Olric started, interrupting March’s thoughts. His face had grown serious, something he wasn’t used to seeing from his brother. “I really wish you would just come to realize that you can’t go through life by yourself. It’s okay to want, or even need, friends or a partner. Nobody is going to think less of you, March. You deserve happiness.” Olric spoke with absolute sincerity. He wasn’t just saying this to make him feel better. He meant what he was saying.

March let out a sigh before speaking, his voice coming out way more soft than he meant for it to. “Yeah, well, what if they deserve someone better than me? I don’t know if I could be that soft lover that everyone dreams of.” His hand gripped the handle of the tool he was using tightly as he spoke. It felt… weird to actually voice his concerns out loud.

There was a beat of silence before March felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. March looked up at his brother who had moved closer to him. “No offense bro, but you should probably let them make that decision.”

March moved his eyes to the forge, unable to muster up anything in response. There was a couple of seconds of silence before Olric finally spoke again. “Ultimately, it’s your decision,” he said, moving away from his brother. Olric began to walk away. “But hey, I have a shift at the general store! Gotta stay busy and help as much as I can around town, you know? I won’t be home until late! Think about what I said!”

With that, Olric was gone, leaving March alone with his thoughts and a decision to be made.

. . . . . ╰──╮╭──╯ . . . . .

The farmer wiped the sweat off of their brow as they sat on their front porch and admired their work. The farm had really come a long way since they first got here. The farm had once just been a bunch of land filled with nothing but rocks, trees, and weeds but now it was so much more. Enough crops were growing right now to keep the town fed for a week and so many animals now that the farmer was sure they had a whole ecosystem going on. The farmer was happy.

Well, almost.

Truth be told, they were lonely. Sure, they had plenty of friends here in Mistria, but it still kind of stung for them to see so many people excited for the holiday today. Juniper and Valen had a whole day planned for each other, Nora and Holt have been sickeningly loving with each other, and Hemlock couldn’t shut up about what he had planned for Josephine tonight. Hell, the farmer was even sure Henrietta had some type of date night going on tonight.

Don’t get them wrong, they were happy to see everyone happy in town, they were just feeling a bit jealous that they couldn’t share that excitement with everyone. Especially since they were hoping a special someone would actually ask them out tonight. Foolish of them, really. The farmer was quite sure their feelings for March were obvious to everyone in town, after all, it’s all Elsie could tease them about every time they ran into each other. However, it was also quite obvious that March did not feel the same way.

The farmer let out a sigh, closed their eyes, and leaned their head back against the chair they were sitting in. They really needed to find a way to get over this stupid crush they had for the blacksmith. It was getting pathetic and they were quite sure March was laughing at them behind their back. Why would he like them? He was the best blacksmith anyone had ever seen and they were just… them.

“Are you deaf or something?” A slightly irritated voice cut into the farmer’s thoughts. A voice they knew all too well.

“March?” the farmer spoke with surprise voice once they opened their eyes and saw who was standing in front of them.

And sure enough it was March. He had his typical headband tied around his forehead. His usual tank top and overalls were also on but they were dirty, a clear sign that he had just finished working and walked over here immediately. Whatever he needed must have been important.

“Yeah,” was all he said in response to them. He looked down at the ground, shuffling his feet. “Are you, uh, busy or anything?” he asked hesitantly.

The farmer’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. It’s 8 o’clock at night, all their chores were done and they always tried to make it out of the mines before it got dark. Obviously, they weren’t busy doing anything. “No.” was all the farmer said, wanting to give March enough space to speak his mind.

All he did was nod before a couple seconds of silence followed. Finally, he spoke up, still not making eye contact with them. “Well, uh, I was planning on cooking something tonight. Some soup maybe since it’s a little chilly out.” he took a deep breath, as if convincing himself it was okay to continue. “Olric isn’t coming home until late tonight and I don’t want these ingredients to go to waste. You know, since I have so much of it…” He trailed off. His face had gotten more and more red as he continued speaking. At this point his face was almost the same shade as his hair.

Yet, the farmer didn’t make fun of him. Instead, a giddy smile broke out on their face as the realization that March was actually asking them to hang out with him dawned on them. “My my, March. Are you asking me to come to your house for dinner?” the farmer asked, a giant smile creeping up on their face.

March finally looked up at them, managing to make eye contact for a second before he averted his eyes. “I guess I am, yeah.” he said hesitantly. He was afraid they were going to burst into laughter. Then he would be the talk of the town. Poor March who tried to ask out the farmer who is so way out of his league and got rejected on the spot. God, he was already ready to die of embarrassment just from the possible scenario.

Yet, that’s not what happened. Instead, the farmer jumped to their feet, clapped their hands together once, and grinned at him with a special type of sparkle in their eyes. “Of course, I’ll come! Let me just make sure all the animals get inside and wash up! I’ll meet you at your place.” The farmer shouted, already running towards the barn and coop to get the animals put away. They wanted to get done as quickly as possible so they could make their way to March and Olric’s place.

“D-don’t get the wrong idea! I just had extra ingredients lying around!” March shouted after them. Though he was sure they didn’t hear him, too caught up in their own excitement to even focus on what he was saying. Strangely enough, he was fine with that. As long as they kept that bright smile on their face, he was fine with anything.

He turned away from the farm, starting the trek back to his place so he could also wash up and prepare to start cooking. Only then when he had turned away from the farmer fully and nobody could see him did he let his own smile take its place.

#fields of mistria #fields of mistria x reader #march x reader #march fom

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somedayillbepeterpan · 7 months ago

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I demand a Polinyear. Or a Polinlifetime.

For Bonus Polinweek Day 7 | Favourite kink + Love confessions S3E8 | Into the Light The Butterfly Ball confession scene

I have not abandoned my Butterfly ball deep dive series. It's just taking a while to write. And I also was enjoying creating content for Polinweek as it's my first time participating. But I will definitely finish that series.

One of my favourite things about Bridgerton S3 is how real/authentic/genuine it was in portraying Colin and Pen's Friends to Lovers journey. I was rewatching tonight and I burst into tears when the wedding scene was on and I was uncontrollably sobbing by the time Episode 8 rolled around.

The very first time that they finally see each other equally, the very first time that they finally are aligned, the very first time that they decided to grow and mature together is the very first time that they said I love you to each other. Throughout the show, it was just one saying it and the other accepting it with no direct reply.

But the one above was them on equal grounds, on equal playing field saying that the love they feel for each other is more than lust, more than shallow emotions, more than codependency but just pure, unadulterated love.

It's that look that they give each other that even without words says, "I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. Because you are deep inside my soul and I understand what love is because of you."

(Why am I crying while writing this???)

The sensation of falling in love is so intense that sometimes you forget yourself. And when you forget yourself, the sensation of love becomes corrupted. There is something that I always remember my husband said to me while we were in the first throes of our love story-- that it takes two people to fall in love. To add to that, it takes another person to grow out of yourself.

Both Colin and Pen were lonely souls, even with the amount of people around them. Since both of them desired deep connection (Colin's journal and when Pen was talking to Debling about love), they have unintentionally isolated themselves with the people around them (Colin going on his travels and when Pen couldn't answer her mother's question of who she was protecting herself from when she started writing LW). The circumstances that pushed them to their loneliness kept them from positively maturing, rendering them stuck in their pasts.

This is why their love story becomes so beautiful to me. In the process of falling in love with each other (or understanding the deep connection they have), they are offered the chance to grow out of the versions they have been stuck on. And isn't that what love should be and do to you? To help take you out of your blindspots and help make you understand that life isn't made to be lived in isolation.

The scene above perfectly ties up that evolution. By looking into how their I love you's progressed-- from Pen's botched confession on S1E8, to Colin and Pen's reciprocated "you are special to me" declaration, to the fallout and subsequent rebuilding of "friendship" via courting lessons, to realising and accepting that they cannot live without each other on a carriage ride to Colin saying I love you for the first time (but with a little push from his big bros and a dash of his hero complex default), to Pen's "I have always loved you", to Pen's three "I love you's" (but with a dash of angst and desperation to get that actual sentiment in Colin's head) and then to end up here, in the Butterfly ball, them saying I love you to each other for the first time without any other hindrance other that it being the truth.

No expectations but just pure love. Luke and Nic's delivery was yet another slam dunk in this scene and I really do believe it's why most of us cried. Not only that Colin's confession before that was so beautiful but it's this mutual acceptance, mutual seeing, mutual embracing of each other's authentic selves that made this scene so satisfying.

And for my personal indulgence, I really love it when I love you's are said just as it is, with no "too's" or "more's" because love is unquantifiable. I try never to say "I love you, too" at all as it never sounds right to me.

Much like my post about my favourite quote, this again is an example of how such simple lines where elevated by the story and Luke and Nic's performances.

I really can't move on from S3. Consider this as my love confession to the season too.

On a side note: Thank you for the bonus Polinweek. I've yet to be done with this season so I hope you can all continue to ride this wave with me.

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darknight3904 · 7 months ago

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𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖆𝖈𝖊

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴏᴄ! ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ /ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Guess who's back? Me, and the main plot line. No more fluff chapters, bitches.

Rhaella is 18, Aemond 17

132 AC

The announcement of Lord Corlys' accident was sudden. It was even more sudden that Vaemond, his brother, was coming to Kings Landing to challenge the succession. To her own disappointment, Lucerys' legitimacy would once again be called into question.

Rhaella's trip to Highgarden was but three days away. Most of her things had been packed and her room was rather bare. She hadn't spoken to Aemond much recently. He had avoided her as if that would stop Rhaella's impending doom. It was as if through avoidance they could remain in the youth they were desperately clinging to.

"Might you know when Princess Rhaenrya's family will arrive? I wish to go for a short flight but I want to be able to greet my cousins." She asked her handmaiden.

"I have heard word that their ship was spotted in the Blackwater, My Lady." She responded as she finished lacing the blue dress that adorned Rhaella's body.

"My flight will have to wait then." She sighed, they'd be here soon, "Might you fetch Prince Aemond for me? We have not spoken recently."

"Yes, My Lady."

Aemond was in perfect form today. He motions were fluid and Cole was having a hard time holding him back. The past fortnight of practice was paying off. He felt bad some nights, knowing he had left Rhaella waiting in the library for him. But, he could not be around her now, knowing she was shipping off for Highgarden of all places. That Lord Tyrell's disgusting pig of a son would marry her. His jealousy would well up in him whenever he saw her. He wasn't entirely sure what he was feeling was normal. The possessiveness? He'd never felt this before, not even over Vhagar.

"Something on your mind, My Prince?" Cole asked as his sword met Aemond's again.

"No." Aemond lied

"I can offer insight if you speak to me," Cole says, pushing against Aemomd.

"Why? So you can tell my mother?" Aemond seethes, thinking of how Cole spilled everything he heard and saw to Alicent Hightower.

"Prince Aemond!" The shrill voice of a handmaiden catches his ears

"What?"

Aemond came to her reeking of sweat and the training yard.

"You interrupted my morning session." He said as he entered without knocking

"You have been avoiding me," Rhaella says, ignoring the way he drops sweat-soaked gloves onto her table.

"You've been avoiding me." Aemond pointed at her

Where did he get the audacity to act like this? So brazen.

"You have spent the last fortnight training and flying like you do not know of our prearranged time in the library together," Rhaella said

"Maybe I don't want to spend my days reading." Aemond dismissed

Liar.

"You lie, Aemond." Rhaella sighed, "I expect to see you in the library after tonight's supper. I have found an interesting book on Old Valyria, you will enjoy it."

"I just said I do not wish to be in the library with you. It is-"

Aemond is interrupted by the doors to Rhaella's chamber being pushed open.

"Princess Rhaenrya, Prince Daemon, and their family have arrived. The queen wants both of you in the throne room for the hearing." A nameless errand boy says before dashing back out.

"The library." Rhaella says, standing to brush past Aemond, "Tonight."

Rhaella can hear him grumble as she passes.

Aemond arrives in the throne room nearly fifteen minutes after Rhaella does. She takes in his appearance and presumes he must've run off to fix his hair and cover the scent of sweat with something.

Otto Hightower's voice fills the room as Rhaella's eyes fall on Jacaerys and Lucerys who have grown up since she has last seen them. Dark messy hair sits atop their hair and Jacaery's dark eyes follow her own as she takes him in. He offers a small smile and a nod of his head. Rhaella returns it and can't help but notice how handsome he has become. While he did not bear Targaryen coloring, his facial features certainly held the sharpness of a Targaryen prince.

Vaemond Velaryon has stepped into the center of the room now. He speaks of being Lord Corlys' closest blood. Rhaella can feel the eyes of the room turn to Lucerys as Rhaenrya speaks, affirming her son's position as heir. On her right, Aemond shifts his weight from one foot to the other, letting out a sigh like he was bored.

"Cunt."

Aemond's whispered voice falls on her ears. She isn't sure who he's speaking of now. Perhaps Vaemond or Lucerys? Or maybe Rhaenrya who is getting ready to make her counter argument. Or perhaps the insult is directed at Daemon who, much to Rhaella's dismay hasn't stopped smirking from his spot next to Rhaenrya.

"My Lord Hand, " Rhaenrya begins, "It was but twenty years ago that my father stood in this hall and named me-"

The sound of heavy doors being opened set a lull over the proceedings.

Kingsguard enters the room followed by a sight Rhaella hasn't seen in years, the King, walking.

"King Viserys of House Targaryen. First of His Name, King of the Andals and the Roynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

King Viserys slowly makes his way to the Iron Throne. When he finally reaches it and dismisses Otto Hightower, he is exhausted. Rhaella can hear his heavy breathing echoing about the throne room.

The loud clatter of metal hitting stone has Rhaella turning around to see what has happened. The golden crown that King Jaeherys had once worn has fallen to the floor. She half expects the queen or Rhaenrya to pick it up but her father beats them all to it. Rhaella watches as the man who she had deemed selfish and a cold-hearted fool, helps his brother up the steps to the throne. Daemon places the crown on Viserys' head before returning to his spot. The tension in the room is heavy on her chest as everyone awaits Visery's word.

"I must admit my confusion." Viserys says "Why are petitions being heard over a settled succession?"

Rhaella looks over at Vaemond Velaryon who has anger swimming in his eyes.

"I believe the only person who could offer better insight into Lord Corlys' wishes is the Princess Rhaenys."

Rhaella watches as she comes forward to speak. She hasn't seen her since she threw her out of her room for knowing about what happened to Lady Rhea.

"I have always supported Lord Corlys' wish that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son, Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed, nor did my support." Rhaenys says

Rhaella has to contain the glee that is on her face at Lucerys' secured position.

"Princess Rhaenrya has just informed me of her decision to marry Prince Jacaerys and Prince Lucerys to their cousins Baela and Rhaena." Rhaenys says, " A proposal to which I agreed."

Rhaella looks at her half sisters who are no longer little girls who have tangles in their hair and stuffed dolls tucked under their arms. They have grown up, Long silver hair much like her own tumble down their backs and their pretty faces are staring back at her.

"The matter is settled. Again." Viserys says "I reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark."

"You break law and centuries of tradition to name your daughter as heir." Vaemond suddenly speaks "Yet you presume to tell me who gets to inherit the name Velaryon? No...I will not allow it."

"Allow it?' Viserys says "Do not forget yourself Vaemond."

"That is no true Velaryon!" Vaemond suddenly shouts, whirling around to point at Lucerys.

Rhaella's eyes jump to Rhaenrya and her family.

"He is no nephew of mine." Vaemond declares

"Lucerys is my true-born grandson. You are no more the second son of Driftmark." Viserys affirms

"You may run your house as you see fit." Vaemond says, turning back to the King," But you will not decide the future of mine. I will not see it ended on the account of this..."

Vaemond has turn to face Lucerys again, a pause in his sentence, like he can't say what he wants to.

"Say it."

Daemon's whisper reaches Rhaella's ears and she looks at her father who is smirking at Vaemond.

"Her children are...Bastards!"

The volume of Vaemond's voice sends echos around the throne room. Rhaella jumps at his tone. not expecting it at all.

"And she...is...a whore."

Rhaella gasps along with the rest of the court. She sees even Queen Alicent shake her head in disapproval.

"I...will have your tongue for that." Viserys suddenly says, pulling the dagger he keeps at his side out.

It happens in just barely a second. Daemon is on the move and makes a clean cut to Vaemond's head with Dark Sister. Rhaella jumps toward Aemond who pulls her close to him as Vaemond's body hits the ground.

"He can keep his tongue." Daemon says looking down at a now very dead Vaemond Velaryon.

"Disarm him!" Otto Hightower yells

"No need," Daemon says, wiping the blood from his sword and returning to Rhaenrya.

Aemond's arms are still holding Rhaella tightly but his eye is fixed on the sight in front of them. On the bloody corpse of Vaemond Velaryon. On Daemon Targaryen and his sword called Dark Sister.

Next Part

Guess who's still alive? Me. I didn't die of jetlag. I had a nice vacation. Minus the whole getting trapped in the airport and getting delayed two extra days...anyway I have returned.

I saw the Deadpool and Wolverine movie yesterday. In conclusion, Wade Wilson is hot af and Wolverine is so shredded my jaw was on the floor. Hugh Jackman the man that you are...

Here's some fun pictures of my trip, I kinda wish I could've taken the chickens home...

Comment below to join the taglist. (The taglist is not by chapter, once added, you will remain there unless you ask to be removed.)

Taglist:

@caspianobsessed

@starryhiraeth

@franzelt

@holymusicalmothman

@koobratzy

@schelfinser

@mizuki80

@flusteredmoonn

@sunmigs

@mizuki80

@dramioneforevertilltheend

@fix5idiots @canpillowscry

@aleemendoza2425-blog

@optimistic-but-very-realistic

@vieenr0se

@minttea07

@void21

@lothiriel9 @saraiadg

@simp-sundae-06 @truly-abysmal @spacexdrago

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #game of thrones #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #daemon targaryen #got #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x fem!reader #fanfic #ewan mitchell #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen fluff #romance

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fiction-is-life · 8 months ago

Note

hi! congratulations on 800 followers <333 i was wondering if i could get lying together in comfortable silence, maybe they’re cuddled up together, either way they’re both mutually enjoying the other’s company with topper. please and thank you!

Cuddles and Competition

Author's Note: Hi, and thank you!! You are always so supportive!! Also, I am soooo sorry I am only now getting to this request! I just completed my hardest year in school and I had no time to write. I wanted to put this out for your birthday but I missed that, so it will be a belated gift, I guess! I hope you enjoy it, love!! 💞

Warnings: none really?

“Topper! Meet me in the kitchen. Now!” Dr. Cynthia Thornton called out to her son through the in-home PA system. You were busy chopping onions for the soup you were making per that lady’s request. You just kept your head down; when she was in a mood it was best just to let your employer run her course.

Topper slowly made his way into the kitchen, a bored look on his face. Cynthia rolled her eyes as she looked up from her phone at him. “Topper, stand up straight, how many times must I tell you?”

Topper straightened his spine, but his frown didn’t disappear. “Is that why you called me down here?” he intoned, a smirk now playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t be cheeky,” she snapped. This was typical of every mother-son interaction between the two. “I have to attend a work event tonight, but I don’t want any funny business. Rafe and Kelce are not to be here, and absolutely no girls allowed,” she explained while putting her earrings in and fixing the 24K gold bracelet at her wrist.

Topper smirked fully now - his mother had really been getting on his nerves lately with college application deadlines looming over his head. “What about (Y/N)? She’s a girl. And she’s here.” You could hear the laughter in his voice, and you had to turn away on the pretense of going to the sink so that Dr. Thornton couldn’t see you laugh as well.

Cynthia rolled her eyes. “She doesn’t count; I would expect you to have more respect for yourself than that.” That wiped the smirk off of your face. “I will be home by midnight, and you are responsible for driving (Y/N) home.” With no further words, Dr. Thornton left the house.

You both waited in silence for the front door to click shut and the roar of her sports car starting to sound a few seconds later. Once it did, Topper turned towards you slowly, a serious expression on his face. “So…pizza or Chinese?”

You grinned from ear to ear. “Both! Let me throw this soup in the fridge and then I can get Netflix all queued up.”

“Sounds good, sweet thing,” Topper replied, already ordering your usual on door dash.

Within thirty minutes you were on the couch debating who the best baker on The Great British Bake Off was for that week between mouthfuls of the Outer Banks’ finest late-night cuisine. The only light in the room came from the living room’s tv and the reflection of the moon and stars off of the Thornton’s pool that was visible from the windows.

“How do they all mess up something so simple as that for a technical? Half of them were inedible!”

“Topper, I would love to see you try to make that dessert and come up with something better than the person who took last place,” you teased.

He looked at you with incredulousness written all over his face, but you could see the smile he was holding back with all of his might. “I could absolutely bake something passable,” he stated, fully believing his words.

“Maybe if you had a full, detailed recipe, but not the paired down version the contestants are given. I love you, but I would not eat anything you baked without a full recipe - and maybe some youtube tutorials,” you laughed, making him break and join in your mirth before he turned “serious” once more.

“I could absolutely bake something to that standard.” He continued as he started to stand up, “In fact, let’s go into the kitchen and have a little competition of our -” he was cut off by a fast-moving piece of orange chicken hurtling into his mouth. You giggled once more as he made a show of chewing the chicken you had used to shut him up.

“Seeing as food particles are defying gravity, I guess we can save our baking competition for another day. To protect myself, I just want to hang out with you and make fun of their accents. You can be my shield if any pepperoni starts flying,” Topper pulled you practically on top of him as he said this, making you shake your head and laugh, highly amused at his antics.

You didn’t say much else for the rest of the show, just breathing in his scent and basking in his presence. You had almost fallen asleep from Topper lightly massaging your back as he held you to him when you heard his voice rumble to life after a heavy sigh.

“I can’t wait to beat you in our baking competition, love. I can just imagine your face when I pull something out of the oven that absolutely crushes yours.”

You pushed yourself off of his chest at this, his arms falling down to your waist. “Alright, smarty pants, let's bake something and see who would actually win,” you retorted; he had finally played your competitive streak to his advantage, and now you fully wanted to crush him with your baking prowess.

He just leaned in and kissed the determined look on your face and practically tackled you back into his arms. Your pout broke as he peppered kisses all over your face before settling his head onto your stomach. “I’m just kidding, love, we both know you would destroy me in any competition except for surfing,” his smooth voice soothed your ruffled feathers, but you couldn’t help but tease him once more.

“I would destroy you in a surfing competition too, Top, don’t deny it.”

His blue eyes caught yours from his relaxed position. “You have never surfed a day in your life, (Y/N/N),” he stated.

“And you’ve never baked, Top,” you grinned.

“Touche.” He placed a kiss on the exposed skin of your tummy before you both turned your attention back to the tv with smiles on your faces. You stayed like that until way past the time you should have left, tempting fate that Dr. Thornton may come back and see you, but neither of you cared. You just enjoyed spending the rare moments you had alone with each other too much to give up a single second. It was only then when all your troubles seemed far enough away that you could truly live.

Masterlist

Taglist: adventuresinobx @bradleybeachbabe @starkeyobx @penny4yourthoughts @topperscumslut @drewbooooo @honeybear-yammy @gillybear17 @hoebx @spinningintheshadows @fangirlfree @get0ut0fmyr00m @poppet05 @graywrites20 @yellowbitchs-blog @laneyy003 @hydraironcaptian @honeybuzzzzzz @powellsugarbaby @ietts @art3mas @haven247

#topper thornton x reader #topper thornton fluff #answered asks #lovely moots 💕#obx fics #topper thornton obx #topper x reader #topper fluff

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shuadotcom · 2 years ago

Text

Take Me Higher | CHS (M)

🍃Summary: Yeah, your first real party was completely different than you had imagined, but it was even better than you had hoped.

🍃Pairing: Stoner!Vernon x Stoner!Afab Reader

🍃Genres & AUs: Smut, a dash of fluff, friends to lovers au, pwp

🍃Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

🍃Content/Warnings: Marijuana usage, mention of alcohol, profanity, protective sex, cunnilingus, fingering, handjob, bathroom sex, sex while high (they’re both faded but they like each other and are consenting), multiple orgasms, dry-humping, allusion to big dick!vernon, reader has boobs and a vagina but no gendered terms are used for y/n

🍃Words: 6.1k

🍃Note: As a cannabis connoisseur myself, I love stoner!vernon fics and will read any and every single one so it was only a matter of time before I wrote my own. Truly it was a mighty need - especially blue hoodie Vernon because that's my favorite shoot of his. This is based off of a slightly true story of my first adult party years ago. Y/n has a much better partner and time than I did though 😂

I also listened to Rihanna's Anti album (aka the last album she'll give us 😭) a lot when writing this for whatever reason.

Thank you bestie @the-boy-meets-evil for being my beta!🫶🏽

Tagging the lovely @kthpurplesyou 😘

🍃Net Tag: @kflixnet

Tonight was turning out to be different than you ever thought it’d be. It’s your first-ever real party and it was turning out to be much less notable than you’d have imagined. Growing up, you had been a typical wallflower with a tiny group of friends that were as introverted as you, so you never knew people who threw parties, and you sure as hell weren’t “important enough” to get invited to them. Nothing much had changed from middle school and even through college.

It’s not until you’re well into your young adulthood that you receive your first party invitation. It comes from your oldest friend, Joshua, whom you recently reconnected with. You had practically grown up with him and when he and his family moved away, your communication eventually lessened with life and timezones in the way. It isn’t until you just so happen to move near him after college that you start hanging out again. He sends you an Instagram message after happening to see a location close to him that you tagged in a post.

You and Joshua easily pick your long-dormant friendship back up, getting along as perfectly as you had years ago. Your closeness and trust are quickly restored in him the more time you spend together. It’s why when he invites you to a party a friend of his is throwing, you jump at the chance.

Having never been to a party, you only had the tv shows and movies you watched to go off of as to what the atmosphere would be like. You imagine loud, deafening music, drunk people spread all over the poorly lit house, the air reeking of alcohol, and too many people.

In reality, the lights are on around the house as expected and the music that plays over a speaker in the living room is loud enough to get lost in while dancing but not so loud that you couldn’t hold a conversation. Instead of smelling like nothing but alcohol, the air only smelt of pizza and an artificial air freshener, with a hint of beer.

There are only a few handfuls of people milling about, most of whom Joshua and Jeonghan - his other close friend who came with the two of you - had long since introduced you to.

One of whom you’ve spent the most time with when you hang out with Joshua and his friends and are the most familiar with. You have a ton in common and always feel comfortable around him.

He also happens to be the friend that you have an embarrassingly huge crush on.

“Hey, Vernon!” Joshua calls his name as the three of you file down the basement stairs where it looks like most of the guests are.

Vernon turns from his conversation to find you three and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think his smile widened when he made eye contact with you.

He says something to the guy he’s talking to before approaching you all.

“Hey, Josh, Jeonghan. Hi, Y/n. Thanks for coming.”

“Obviously we’d show up! I don’t think anyone has thrown a party just for fun in months. And I knew you wouldn’t mind if I brought Y/n. It’s baby’s first party!” Joshua throws his arm around your shoulders, bringing you forward from your spot nearly hiding behind him. You’re not too flustered that you can’t pinch him in the side for exposing you so willingly.

“Of course, I don’t mind!” Vernon rushes out, maybe even a little too loud. He clears his throat, breathing out an awkward laugh. “Anyway yeah, Seungkwan and Chan were feeling particularly social this weekend so I didn’t have much of a say but it’s cool.” Vernon scans the room, pointing out his two roommates across the room as he says their names. “Tonight won’t be anything crazy so don’t worry.” He says the last part to you, a sweet smile on his pretty lips.

As if they could tell they were being talked about, Seungkwan and Chan spot the group of you and are over in an instant, thanking you for coming and guiding you over to where all the snacks and drinks are while Vernon trails behind.

Truth be told, the whole party feels as if it’s a normal hang-out session with everyone. Sure some people get a little more drunk than usual and there’s more dancing and obnoxious singing than there typically is on any other Saturday night, but overall it’s nothing like the parties in movies. No one is swinging from the ceiling naked and drunk off their asses (unless you count Soonyoung shirtless and screaming at the top of his lungs to the karaoke song he’s doing, but no one is too concerned).

You’re even more grateful that you decided on jeans and a nicer shirt after agonizing over what to wear for days. Everyone was in the most normal clothes which took a lot of the pressure you had initially felt off of you. This includes Vernon, who was in jeans and an oversized, cozy-looking hoodie in the prettiest shade of baby blue. You could barely keep your eyes off of him, not that you really tried. He didn’t make it any easier, seeing how he hasn’t moved from your general vicinity all night.

Whether it was near the snack table, upstairs for a little while, or standing near Joshua and Jeonghan as they played beer pong, Vernon hasn’t been far, mostly talking to the two men or any other people around you, occasionally trying to bring you into the conversation. You’ve been doing your best to contribute, but your nerves about not knowing what to do with yourself, paired with the butterflies in your stomach that erupt whenever Vernon so much as looks at you, have you feeling a little out of your element.

At some point in the night, Jeonghan wanders off and Vernon disappears for a bit. You and Joshua are standing near the drinks, trying a few different shots and you hate them all. You nearly forgot how much you dislike the taste of most alcohol.

“So when are you going to tell Vernon you’re into him?” Joshua’s question is abrupt and he knows it. It’s why he snickers, watching your face contort as you choke on the shot of Patron you just knocked back, which you instantly regret.

“When am I going to what?!”

Joshua shrugs, taking a shot himself, his eyebrows only knitting a little.

“You heard me. And don’t act so surprised. Watching the two of you steal glances at each other all night and then act all shy as if you weren’t doing that was cute for the first five minutes, but enough is enough!” Joshua reaches for another shot, but you smack his hand, demanding why he thinks you like his friend. You haven’t told a soul about your crush on Vernon.

He’s about to say something else, but then Vernon shows up and your attention locks onto him.

“Hey guys, I’m heading outside if you want to come.” His eyes linger on yours and you momentarily forget how to speak so Joshua answers for you, letting him know that you’ll both be joining him.

It’s late and you’re not sure what time it is, but the sky is full of tiny stars, providing faint light to the group of people sitting outside. The small circle of people is sitting on lawn chairs surrounding a brightly shining lantern and a bong as they take turns passing it around. The three of you take the spots still open with you between Joshua and Vernon.

You didn’t forget what Joshua said inside, but put your interrogation on the back burner.

You’ve smoked weed before, in fact, you do so multiple days of the week. It’d been your chosen way to destress with friends before you moved and even more so now as you quickly learned that Vernon was the stoner friend in this group. If everyone was going to be hanging out and Vernon was there, there’d inevitably be edibles or a joint passed around. In your mind, you were practically perfect for each other.

The other partygoers greet you, and Vernon immediately takes the bong from the person next to him. Joshua falls into conversation with Wonwoo on his other side which gives you time to study Vernon.

He rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie, his forearms on full display. His movements are effortless as he leans forward to grab a pinch of weed from the grinder tin on the small table in front of you. His fingers, always looking so long, nimbly pack the bowl of the bong. He uses his middle finger to gently press it down as his eyebrows knit in concentration and his lips purse just a tiny bit.

Your eyes never leave him as he places his lips into the mouthpiece and uses his free hand to grab a lighter on the table. Vernon lights the bowl with skilled fingers, inhaling gently but confidently, then removes it. His eyelids flutter closed, as he inhales steadily, the smoke in the bong swirling as it fills his lungs.

Once he’s had his fill, he pulls the bong away, holding the smoke in his chest for a few seconds before his red lips part, the smoke seeping out of his mouth in rings and drifting up to the dark sky. A dopey smile plays on his lips as his eyes open again, meeting yours.

The entire act has you clenching as you watch him work, so in his element and looking absolutely breathtaking while doing so. But the look he’s giving you now has an undeniable effect on you and the want you so often feel for him.

Vernon tips the bong lightly in your direction, asking if you want a hit and you accept it. Instead of handing it to you, he holds the mouthpiece out to you, keeping it in his grasp as you lean forward and place your mouth on it. Vernon lights the bowl for you, holding eye contact as you start to let the smoke billow into your mouth, your chest already feeling warm as it fills you. He waits until your eyes close to remove the bowl, and you inhale sharply, your head already feeling lighter.

The bong is pulled away and you tip your head back, the smoke swirling inside of you before your lungs begin to burn and you open your mouth, releasing the smoke. You watch it float up and dissipate and don’t notice Vernon’s gaze still glued to you.

When you meet his eyes, neither of you moves, almost waiting to see what the other will say or do.

Joshua is the one to interrupt the moment, yelling at the two of you for not sharing. Vernon leans over you to pass the bong to Joshua’s waiting hands and he’s the closest to you he has been all evening. The smell of his sweet shampoo hits you first before the woodsy scent of his cologne follows, topped off with the faint smell of weed. It takes everything in you not to kiss him, but you hold it together until he sits back in his chair. He slouches into the uncomfortable fold-out chair, his legs spread wide in his worn jeans, practically begging you to crawl into his lap. Again, you don’t, but dear god how you want to.

Time ticks by as your small group stays outside, passing the bong around the circle every few minutes. You’ve quickly lost the conversation being held by the whole group since you and Vernon spend most of your time talking amongst yourselves. You don’t discuss anything in particular, just movies you’ve seen lately, new restaurants you’ve tried, and some of your favorite new musical releases. Conversation with Vernon always flows so naturally and easily. The two of you rarely broach awkward topics which is a miracle in itself.

At one point, the conversation shifts to you and your lack of experience in the party department.

“So, you’ve never been to any party ever? Like not even a birthday party?”

“Do birthday parties at laser tag places count when I was like ten?” Both of you giggle at that, feeling so much more at ease than you did earlier.

“I don’t think so. I mean like, in high school, you never even went to like a small house party?”

You shake your head as you sip on the soda you had dragged yourself back into the house to get earlier. “Nah. I wasn’t really popular in high school and my friends and I were all too nerdy to throw parties. We had anime-watch nights, but that’s about it.” Waving your hands dismissively you chuckle, but Vernon just shakes his head.

“I can’t believe that.”

“What, that I’m a massive nerd? I wouldn’t think that’d be a surprise since Joshua and I literally got into an argument about Full Metal Alchemist last weekend at Seungcheol’s.” A snort leaves Vernon when he laughs and you can’t help but notice how endearing it is.

“No, we already know you and Shua are weebs!” He keeps laughing even when you lightly push him at his teasing. “What I mean is, I can’t believe that you weren’t popular. I mean, look at you!” He gestures wildly to you, his eyes sweeping over you from head to toe.

“Oh, come on.”

“No, for real! You’re so damn funny and so fun to be around. You’re super sweet and kind and you’re always taking care of us. Plus you’re the hottest person I’ve ever met so like, how the fuck weren’t people all over you? You’re basically fucking perfect!” His words make you feel fuzzy all over, and you know it’s not just the weed.

“Thank you, Vernon,” you whisper, averting your attention to your drink. Hearing Vernon call you hot and “fucking perfect” makes you squeeze your thighs together. Something about him complimenting you so blatantly has you weak in the knees. With your earlier stress gone and feeling a little more carefree, you decide it’s now or never. “I think all of that about you too,” you mumble under your breath.

At first, you’re not sure if he hears you so you dart your eyes over to him. Vernon is staring at you, blinking slowly and you can almost see the gears turning in his head.

“Oh wow,” he finally breathes out. “Really?”

Oh. He did hear you.

“Yeah.” You admit. It’s already out there so you may as well just stand by it.

Vernon’s brain looks as though it’s working overtime as he stares at you blankly. Your stomach does the most violent of flips as you wait for what comes next, unsure of what you should say.

Thankfully, Joshua barges into the conversation, disrupting the tension that hung between you and Vernon.

“Hey, Y/n, I’m tired. I’m gonna find Jeonghan and head home. You wanna share an Uber? Jeonghan’ll probably crash at my place and you can too. Or we’ll put your address in as a stop.”

“Uh…” Do you want to leave now? You just kind-of, sort-of, maybe confessed your feelings to Vernon. But, he also kind-of, sort-of maybe did the same.

If you leave now, will he pretend none of this happened the next time you see him again? Will he blame the weed for his words that he possibly didn’t mean? Does he want you to stay and decide what to do next together?

“Y/n mentioned staying behind for a while longer. Right?” Vernon decides for you, tilting his head and looking back at you, unmoving as he waits for you to verify.

“Oh, yeah I’m gonna stay a little longer.”

Joshua narrows his eyes at you, scanning your face for something that may contradict your words. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m good here with Vernon.” Joshua seems to inspect you both, the seconds dragging on before he finally decides that he accepts what you’re saying.

“Okay, but I better get a text from you later when you’re going home and when you get there. Got it?”

“Promise!”

Joshua throws another look at Vernon. “Everybody better stay safe.” There’s something else behind Joshua’s demand and you’re not sure how exactly to take it.

You and Vernon watch him go before the earlier silence you shared is back. It hangs in the air for what feels to you like an eternity but is more likely only a few seconds.

“You wanna, uh, go upstairs?”

“Yes!” Vernon stumbles over his words when he asks you, but you don’t when you answer him. He’s barely able to get the last word out before you’re accepting his offer. You don’t care where he wants to take you because you’ll go wherever with him.

Vernon slowly stands, reaching for your hand which you give him without a second thought. He leads you back inside the house, upstairs, and to one of the bathrooms in the hall.

“Um, my room’s not clean. I didn’t really expect anyone would be in my room besides me so…” Vernon confesses rather sheepishly when the door is shut behind you. “But, Seungkwan made us clean all the common areas so I promise this room is clean.” A nervous chuckle leaves him, averting his eyes from you.

“That’s okay,” you admit. And it is. Your romantic feelings for Vernon aside (and yes it is a lot of feelings), you want him so badly. You yearn to kiss him, touch him, and let him fuck you, no matter where it happens. Knowing that maybe your feelings aren’t unrequited only makes you want him even more. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Vernon smiles at you, his mouth taking the shape of a heart that has your actual heart beating wildly. He approaches you almost cautiously, pressing you against the bathroom door.

“Are you sure you want this?” His question is a whisper as he’s practically nose to nose with you.

“Of course.”

“We can stop whenever you want to. If you get uncomfortable or change your mind about me or anything like that just say the word.”

“Vernon, I want to be here, I promise. Now kiss me, please.”

And kiss you he does. Vernon dips his head to close the gap between you. His lips are a little chapped as they move against yours, but you don’t mind at all. Your hands ball themselves in the front of his hoodie while he cups your face and kisses you hard. His tongue prods at your lips and you open immediately, moaning as the muscle slips inside your mouth. His tongue wraps around yours, suckling at it and pulling another desperate sound from you. The urgency behind his movements is evident, as his hips meet yours, his body flush against you.

It’s shallow at first and barely noticeable but when you do feel it - Vernon grinding against you - you instantly react, meeting his small thrusts.

When his clothed erection, already hard and straining through his jeans, presses against your pelvis, he makes a deep, pleased hum in his throat. Even through his clothes, you can feel just how big Vernon is. More wetness pools between your legs, already making your underwear feel uncomfortable and sticky.

Vernon continues to hump against you, his kisses becoming more frantic and his hands have long since started wandering on you. His big hands cradle your hips, sliding down the tops of your thighs, then around you to grab a handful of your ass. He yanks you into him, his hips continuing to rut against you.

The sheer act of Vernon dry-humping you like a man truly crazy with lust only makes you want him more. You feel yourself clench around nothing, the friction of Vernon’s hard-on nudging so close to where you need him the most. He has to pull away from your mouth finally, gasping for air, but his hips don’t falter.

“Vernon…please, I need more.”

“M-more?”

“More. Need more.” Your words come out as more of a whine when he squeezes your ass again.

“More of me?”

“Please!”

“Fuck, yeah. Okay.”

He looks genuinely forlorn at the thought of stopping his movements, but he does, lightly panting from his exertion.

Your hands leave the crumpled fabric of his hoodie and snake down to his waist, slipping your hands under the hem. Vernon lets you undress him and then he does the same to you, pulling off piece by piece, tossing each article away without so much as a second thought and drinking in the sight of one another as you go.

Vernon is back on you once you’re both naked, shoving your bodies together as he kisses you again. He cups your breasts, thumbs rubbing circles over your pert nipples. You moan into Vernon’s mouth, letting him work your sensitive buds, the sensation making you rub your thighs together. When your knee brushes Vernon’s hard cock, he nearly chokes. His hands knead at your plush skin as his lips trace their way from your lips to your neck.

Vernon’s teeth nip at your skin and your hands float up to grab at his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands, keeping him at your most sensitive spot. Your knees nearly buckle when he starts to suck harshly and his hands continue their work on your tits.

Before you know what’s next, one of Vernon’s hands is inching down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. With a step out to the side, you spread your thighs to give him access. A single, long digit swipes at your already sopping folds.

He eases his finger into your hole, your warmth greedily sucking him. Vernon begins pumping his finger in and out of you as he continues marking your neck, mumbling about how warm you are and how wet you feel. Your mind starts to turn to mush, your hands scrambling to grasp onto any part of Vernon you can. It happens to be his biceps - those of which are surprisingly firm. You’ve never seen him go to the gym or talk about working out, but clearly he’s doing something. The muscles ripple as he pistons his finger in and out, soon adding a second which slides in with no resistance.

His hot, rock-hard length brushes against your thigh and you reach down with the hand not clutching his arm for dear life, and wrap your fingers around his cock.

Vernon jumps, hissing through his teeth as you slowly jerk him off. Your thumb rubs over his tip, the precum oozing out and helping your hand glide over him.

His lips find yours again, the kiss bruising and messy as he finger fucks you faster and the squelching sounds you make around him echo off of the tile. His fingers scissor in you, working you open for him and when he grazes that soft, spongy spot inside of you, your legs nearly give out.

He manages to keep you upright with his other arm locked around your waist. “You okay?” His voice is gruff, much deeper than it was earlier and you can feel more wetness seep out and around his fingers.

“I’m s-so close, Vern, fuck.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum all over my fingers?”

The sentence is so simple but it has you clenching around his digits so hard that you hold your breath.

“Mmhmm!” you can’t manage words, only sounds, but he doesn’t ask again, instead quickening his pace. Doing your best to match his speed, you twist your wrist, letting Vernon cant his hips forward and fuck into your hand. You whimper into each other’s mouths, the only focus is each other. The only thing either of you see and think about is the other.

Vernon eventually breaks the kiss and bends down to draw one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking at the bud before sucking on it hard enough to hurt in the best way. The twinge of pain shoots straight to your belly, the tension finally snapping.

When you cum, you throw your head back, hitting the bathroom door with a loud ‘thunk!’ and your eyes squeeze shut so tightly that stars swim in the darkness of your closed lids “Fuck!” You choke out, your knees finally giving up on keeping you upright as you let go of Vernon’s cock to grab a hold of his other arm.

Your body sags against his bare chest. He has to prop you back against the door while he helps you ride out your orgasm. The image of you like this, naked and sweaty and crying out for him on his fingers will live in his mind rent-free until the day he dies.

When he finally slips out of you, he can’t help but stare in awe at your juices that drip down his fingers. His first impulse is to shove them into his mouth which he does eagerly, sucking and savoring the flavor of you.

Vernon’s eyes roll back and you watch the entire thing, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Can I eat you out? If that’s okay with you of course.” Vernon’s eyes are wide as he meets yours, half-afraid that you’ll say no. He’ll respect you of course, but he’ll also daydream forever about the way just the small sampling of you tasted on his tongue.

Luckily, for both of you, you want nothing more than to feel Vernon’s kiss-swollen lips on your cunt.

“Please!” You shamelessly beg, droopy eyes widening at his request.

He leads you to the bathroom counter and helps you clumsily clamber up onto it. Both of you are wobbly and clumsy from the weed, but you make it without injury. Vernon’s on his knees instantly, wide hands prying your legs open, pussy on full display.

“Holy shit, you’re so wet!”

“Vernon!” You cover your face in embarrassment, feeling self-conscious.

“Like, your pussy is fucking shimmering in the light, baby.” His face is right in front of your heat, the proximity making your hole flutter right in front of his eyes. “Fucking hell I just watched your pussy squeeze. I’m going to pass out.”

“Vernon, fucking touch me already, please! I need you so bad!” His heavy eyes meet yours, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

Much like earlier, he didn’t need you to tell him again as his eyes focus on you and he dips his head between your legs.

Vernon’s tongue immediately finds your clit, the muscle flicking forcefully, sending a jolt through you. Shaky fingers rake through Vernon’s hair and grip the brunette locks for support as he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking on it in the way you need.

“Fuck! Vernon, yes!” Your hips start to buck up into his face when he changes direction and dips his tongue into your pussy, groaning low in his throat as he does.

“Mmph! So good.” Vernon drawls, his words muffled as he tongue fucks you, slurping your wetness as he does.

His tongue darts in and out of you, his nose brushing your clit every time you lift your hips. Vernon makes out with your cunt, the lewd sounds alone are enough to have you hurdling to your end and Vernon’s grunt reverberating through your body is what ultimately has you cumming.

“Vernon!” His name erupts from your mouth in a shriek, your thighs clamping around his head. Your whole body feels as if it’s on fire, as you arch almost painfully into him. You stay that way for what feels like minutes, hips still pushed towards him as you gasp and Vernon continues to lazily lick at you.

The world could crumble around you at this very moment and you don’t think you’d care.

That was undisputedly the best head you’ve ever gotten.

Vernon chuckles from between your thighs, finally coming up for air.

“Best head ever huh?” His nose all the way to his chin shines with your juices as he gives you a lopsided grin.

You hadn’t even realized you said your last thoughts out loud. Only a small part of you feels embarrassed. The rest of you only focuses on Vernon as he stands up, his cock red and angry as it rests against his stomach.

“Can - can we do it on the floor? My legs feel like cooked pasta right now and I can’t stay upright.” His expression is sullen as he says this, but you can only giggle at how cute he looks, pouting at you, cradling his very thick, very distracting dick.

“You can fuck me wherever you want as long as you do it.”

Vernon’s eyes widen, blinking a few times as if your words fluster him, but he quickly snaps out of it, helping you off the counter. He grabs a bath towel hanging on the rack nearby and spreads it out on the floor before helping lay you on it. He promises that it’s clean, but you shrug his worries away. Towel or not, at this very moment all you want is Vernon to fuck you even more stupid than the weed has made you, and you don’t care what he does it on.

With fumbling hands, Vernon reaches for his pants and digs his wallet out in search of a condom. When he finds it, he opens and rolls the rubber on, hands trembling as he goes.

He scurries back over to you, easily taking his place between your legs. He momentarily forgets what he’s doing when he catches sight of your still-sopping folds and you have to call his name to get his attention. His eyes dart up to look at you, fixating on your heaving chest and bottom lip pulled tight between your teeth, hair sprawled out around your head, eyes red and shiny, staring right back at him.

You look straight out of all of the late-night fantasies he’s had about you and you don’t even know it.

Vernon’s cock feels as big as it looks when he finally eases inside of you, your legs quivering along the way. His hands hook under your knees, keeping you open until he buries himself balls-deep into your pussy.

The two of you share a moan, your voices harmonizing in pleasure at finally filling you and being full by him. He takes a moment before he thrusts forward, gauging your reaction. A scrunch of your brow and a nod to him lets him know to move and he anchors himself by gripping your thighs as he starts to snap his hips.

A high-pitched yelp leaves you, echoing in the room along with the wet sounds of your arousal, the sound only intensifying as Vernon starts to fuck you with more urgency.

“Holy shit, Y/n. You feel fucking incredible.” He pants out as he drives his hips into yours, sweat already beading at his hairline.

Your shaky hands reach up to wrap around his shoulders and you pull him closer. “S-so do you…” Vernon stumbles, but catches himself, planting his hands on the sides of your head. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you do your best to lift your hips with each thrust, meeting Vernon’s momentum as he fucks into you.

Through the condom, you can still feel the most prominent veins on his cock, the friction gliding against your walls, your eyes crossing at the pleasure. The bathroom floor isn’t where you imagined your first time with him being, although you never thought that your first time with him would even happen. Your crush on him was one you kept close to you and in your mind, it wouldn’t be reciprocated.

That thought was obviously cast aside if the way his soft brown eyes, rimmed with scarlet, are looking down at you, even as his lips press together in concentration with each drive of his body jolting yours and almost pushing you across the floor.

Even with THC coursing through his system and making every other movement so slow, Vernon is quick and determined as he rocks into you, your soft, gummy walls squeezing him harder the faster he fucks into you at a bruising pace.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Vernon rasps out between grunts.

“You’re f-fucking the last of my brain cells out of m-me and you wanna be romantic?” You manage a laugh, even if it gets cut off with a sob as soon as Vernon’s cockhead bumps into your g-spot.

“I can’t help it. You make me wanna be romantic.” His words are accentuated with a breathy groan - the sentence a stark contrast to the way he pummels your cunt.

Tears well in your eyes, and you blame the weed for bringing emotions out of you. Raising your head as best as you can, you meet his lips in what is meant to be a sweet kiss, even if it’s more teeth than anything, but neither of you minds.

You lay back and settle when you can’t keep yourself up anymore and Vernon stays close to your face as he pivots his hips, shoving his hand between your bodies. It takes him a second, but he eventually finds your clit, eliciting a shriek from you.

The pace that Vernon finds with both his hips and his fingers has your orgasm right on the cusp, your body already sensitive from earlier.

“V-Vernon!”

“Say my real name,” he wheezes desperately.

“Hansol! Fuck, so good. ‘M gonna cum! So close…” His real name rolls off of your tongue just as easily as his nickname does, if not easier.

His fingers pinch at your clit between pressing against it as his other hand supports most of his weight, his sweaty forehead resting against yours.

“Cum for me again, baby. Wanna see you cum just for me.” His voice is like honey, dripping all over you, and setting your heart and body ablaze.

You reach your high then, a needy cry of his name exploding from you, your body going stiff. Wave after wave rushes through you like an inferno, your blood rushing to your head. Through the ringing in your ears, you hear Hansol actually growl from above you, your name, and a string of curses sounding like a chant coming from him.

His mouth hangs open again as his hips stutter, riding out his orgasm until he lets out a loud huff. Instinctively, you reach your hand up, running it through Hansol’s damp strands. His eyes slip close, pushing his head into your hand more, relishing in the way your nails graze his scalp.

The air is calm and full of so much adoration even as you both harshly huff and puff, catching your breath. You relish this moment with Hansol, wanting nothing more than to stay like this with him.

The sound of his stomach grumbling cuts through the moment. “Sorry,” he snorts, causing both of you to break into a fit of laughter.

“Wanna go back downstairs and get some pizza?” You ask him as he finally moves off of you and you peel yourself up from the floor. Vernon has to help you stand, but to be fair, both of you are unsteady as you stand again.

“Hell yeah. Would you wanna bring it back up to my room? I can clean up really quickly and you can stay over. I have a bowl if you wanna smoke more. But only if you want to! You can say no and I can stay with you until a rideshare gets here.” The nervousness in his question is obvious as he pulls his clothes back on, having to concentrate on getting both legs in his jeans without falling over.

“Of course, I’ll stay over. And don’t worry about the mess. As long as there’s room in the bed for us, the food, and to smoke it doesn’t matter to me, Hansol.” You smile to yourself once you’re dressed, loving the way his real name sounds to your ears. You want to only call him Hansol from here on out.

His head snaps up and he fixes you with a wide-eyed look once his hoodie is back on. “Really?”

You nod at him, laughing at his expression - the same incredulous look he’s given you all night. Closing the small distance between the two of you, you place a gentle kiss on his lips, enjoying the way he instantly melts into you.

Yeah, your first real party was completely different than you had imagined, but it was even better than you had hoped.

Seventeen masterlist | All Masterlists

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void-ink-studios · 1 year ago

Text

Gala of the Gods (Part 3)

Alright, Part 3 is here!

You get art this time around as well, as I couldn't resist drawing their fancy outfits! Hmm, nothing like attempting to draw these characters for the first time in fancy clothing with patterns and shit, I'm a smart one.

Hope y'all enjoyed this little 3-parter. If anyone have more ideas, I'd love to hear it, because I like writing these two.

Also, before you read, just as a heads up, it gets a little suggestive at the very end. It's a firm fade to black, but it is a thing that exists. Look for a line of dashes if you'd rather not read it.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 -You Are Here-

Word Count: 2,300

The Organizer was not a god of... standard form. She wasn't a god of standard anything, to be fair. Scarab couldn't recall many run-ins with her, as their work very rarely overlapped, but that did not make sitting in her office with her staring down at him any more comforting or less nerve racking.

There was a constant noise, as her many, many arms carried on with her daily tasks. Some were writing, others were stamping, some were shredding, it was all happening at once. Her many eyes free roamed around the office as she worked, but she had decided to keep maybe half a dozen glued to the two gods sitting across from her desk.

Lucky them.

No one spoke for a long time. Scarab just nervously fiddled with his can, while Prismo seemed to be doing his best to will the floor to swallow him, shoulders coming up to his ears.

"I thought I had made the policy of fighting at my Gala very clear." Her voice echoed all over the room, rather than coming from some visible mouth. The both of them flinched at the sudden break of silence. "Scarab, while I might be less surprised due to past behavior, I must say I'm still disappointed with your recent track record. Prismo, I can't say I expected to see you in my office of all gods."

"But-"

"I-"

They both started at the same time, but were silenced by a single raised hand.

"However. I am not all-knowing. That is the Observer's job. Prismo, you are not one to cause problems often. And Scarab, despite your difficulties with others, you always filed your paperwork on time. So, I am giving each of you a chance to explain yourselves."

Scarab waited for some signal from her that he was permitted to speak.

"...Prismo, it was you who started it, so you will be first to explain yourself."

Prismo audibly gulped.

"O-Okay... I'd just like to clarify, Scarab and I were not fighting, not in the way you might be expecting. It was my fault..."

Scarab's eyes widened, about to jump in, but was silenced by a hard glare from the Organizer. She gestured for Prismo to continue.

"I lost control over an aspect of myself, and started lashing out. Scarab was just trying to neutralize the threat and calm me down. He wasn't trying to hurt me. Just stop me from hurting others."

There was more silence as the Organizer mulled this information over. Her gaze shifted to Scarab.

"Scarab. Can you confirm this story?"

"Yes ma'am. I was not trying to do harm onto Prismo. I had never seen that aspect of him act out, and I was not sure if or when he could regain control. So I worked to put a stop to it. The only weapon I used was a glorified flashlight."

"I see." Scarab saw distantly a set of arms start sorting through a filing cabinet. "Can you tell me why this aspect of Prismo got so out of control? Last I understood, Prismo, you had achieved complete control and cohesion with all aspects of your dream form. Has this changed?"

"No, no! It's, uh, different..."

"How so?"

"Well... my nightmare aspect only flares up under extreme negative emotions... Stuff life fear or really bad sadness or... when I'm really, really angry. That's what happened tonight, ma'am. I hit a boiling point and it... blew up."

She gave a pointed gaze toward Scarab, causing the beetle to sink into his seat.

"No! It wasn't Scarab's fault!"

"It wasn't?"

"No! I mean, Scarab's related, but it wasn't his fault!"

"How is he related, but not his fault, Prismo?"

Prismo ran a hand through his curls, trying to collect himself.

"So, Scarab's been under my management after the whole Fionna and Cake fiasco, right?"

"Yes, I remember signing that change of management form. I must say, I was a bit confused when I heard you had volunteered. My understanding was the entire incident was caused by a conflict between the two of you."

"It was but... well, the whole thing was my fault to begin with. I did make a rogue universe, and Scarab was just doing his job. He went too far at the end, and it was definitely more personal than his other cases, but I still did what he said I did, and he was right to try and do his job."

The beetle sighed. This was a conversation they had had many times. A lot of confusing feelings had needed to get detangled if they were going to live together. They had forgiven each other for quite a while.

"So, what did Scarab's assignment to you have to do with what happened tonight?"

"Well, Scarab and I have been getting closer. Bonding. We're actually really close now." The Organizer have him a very knowing stare. "I consider him one of my best friends and... I've been learned a lot about him. A lot about how he's been treated by our coworkers and... it wasn't nice and it wasn't fair. I've been getting more and more angry at the others for how they've been treating someone they don't even know, particularly Orbo."

Prismo's hands clenched into fists as he took a deep breath. The Organizer hummed. "What happened between you and Orbo?"

"Orbo cornered me tonight and tried to convince me that Scarab was changing me for the worse because I've been less than nice to him and others who keep trying to act like Scarab's some sort of monster. I got sick and tired of people acting like I was stupid for helping him, that I'm being manipulated. I'm tired of hearing 'Poor Prismo, getting stuck with Scarab, it's so sad for him', like I didn't volunteer for it!"

Scarab felt his mandibles tense... that's what had happened...? Orbo said that...? Was it... true... was he changing Prismo for the worse?

"Orbo making these comments are... interesting."

Scarab raised a brow. "Interesting how?"

"Because he filed complaints and write ups for you every Glob Forsaken time he thought he could."

All color drained from Scarab's face. His heart raced, and he started shaking enough for his carapace to click together.

"He what?!"

"He's submitted thousands of these things over the years. Pretty much none of them went anywhere because the Observer never confirmed the infractions described in the write-ups. Of all your write ups, only three have ever been acted on."

"...Three...?"

"Yes. The first two had notes that Orbo had the authority to discipline as he saw fit within reasonable boundaries. The third lead to the decision to move you into Prismo's management."

Authority to discipline as Orbo saw fit...

He touched the cropped stumps of his former antenna... he felt the lingering burn in his shoulders from his ripped wings...

"Do you... know what those punishments were...?"

"I was not privy to details. Just that they were carried out, and you returned to your duties."

There was a heavy pause, as both Prismo and Scarab processed that news.

"Well, if what you say is true, and I will be calling in the Observer to confirm, then it seems a meeting between Orbo and I is in order. However."

Prismo took hold of Scarab's hand.

"You two did break one of my only rules of the Gala. While it might not have been a true fight, it did cause panic and damage in the Judgement Hall. While it was not either of you who instigated the conflict, it was you two who escalated it to physical violence. It needs to be addressed."

The Organizer pinned the both of them down with a withering stare. Scarab would never not feel like he was a child around her.

Especially now. He saw the way her hands moved, the relentless precision with which she worked. It would be... frighteningly easy for her to pull his arms or legs off... He cast a worried glance to Prismo. His mortal body was much... softer than Scarabs... it... wouldn't survive getting plucked apart...

"...As punishment, you two are going to be my assistants for the time being. Prismo, your job as Wishmaster is still in effect, and you both will be allowed to return to the Time Room. However, you should expect paperwork to periodically be teleported into the chamber. I expect you both to work to complete that paperwork in a timely manner, as accurately as possible. You will be granted limited access to the divine records room for reference. Failure to perform this new duty will have me dragging the both of you back in here. And I won't be as nice next time."

There was a decisive stamp suddenly in front of them, as the Organizer slid a piece of paper in front of them.

Scarab read it. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He almost wept. Paperwork. He could handle that. He wasn't getting pulled part today. Prismo wasn't getting pulled apart today.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes ma'am" they both said together.

"Good. Now, off you go, I have a Star Core I need to speak with."

Before either could say another word, they were warped away in a rainbow of light, and deposited quite ungracefully on the floor of the Time Room.

"Ugh, that sucks a lot when someone else is warping me... Paperwork's gonna suck though, right Scrabs?"

Prismo rubbed the back of his head as he sat up. He spotted Scarab in the corner, huddled down, making himself as small as possible. His heart squeezed as he crawled over to him.

"Hey Lovebug..." He tried to put his hand on his shoulder, but the beetle shied away from the touch. "...Are you okay...?"

Scarab sighed a tired chirp. "No Prismo... I'm... not okay. You were... so angry... you were angry because of me... You're... you're very frightening when you're angry..."

Prismo frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. "No, Lovebug. That wasn't your fault..."

"But it is... You've been so... so kind to me, Prismo... So accommodating and forgiving and sweet... You're making enemies out of friends over me... And... what have I done? What have I done to deserve any of that..."

"Scarab, no-"

"Look at me, Prismo" he snapped. "I'm... not worth this... I'm not good, not like you. I've just been... a problem. An obstacle. Something to work around..."

Scarab's voice sounded so small... Prismo wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed.

"Scarab. You are not an obstacle. I do those things because I want you to feel safe and cared for. And... tonight, you've done more than anyone really has before."

"...How...?"

"Look... When Nightmo takes control, there's not much hope for me coming down on my own. He's a protective measure, but he works too well. He feeds off of negative feelings, the fear and anger around him. He just gets bigger and bigger and more hostile, until there's nothing left to feed on. He has to be subdued or he'll destroy everything around him. I've... I've never seen him back down willingly. Not until tonight."

Scarab looked into Prismo's eyes, wide and uncertain.

"But... but he didn't back down, I had to neutralize him..."

"Scarab, you talked Nightmo down. Yeah, you had to get him small enough to pay attention, but it was your words that got him to fall back. He... He knows you're safe. He'll retreat because he believes you'll protect me. And that's... never happened before. Ever."

Scarab saw the tears pooled in Prismo's eyes, a sad and tired smile spread across his face. He pulled the beetle closer to give sweet kisses to his cheek and neck.

"You've been opening my eyes, Scarab. I was only everybody's pal because they thought I was... in on the joke. I didn't even realize what complete and total wads they were, because they thought I was "cool" or whatever. I don't want to be friends with people who could do the things they've done to you, just because they think no one will care. I have standards. And now I know they don't meet them. I'm not losing friends over you, I'm just finding out who really is and isn't a friend."

Prismo placed a soothing hand at the base of one of Scarab's wings.

"So no, Lovebug. You're not making me worse. You make me, even the worst parts of me, feel safe. I love you. All of me loves you."

Scarab should've been a bit embarrassed by the noises he was making, but it didn't particularly matter now. Not when the two trapped each other in a tight embrace, and a loving kiss. Mandibles threaded through gray hair, talons touched the soft skin they found, and gentle hands soothed aching shoulders.

"I love you too, Prismo" Scarab whispered as they separated for air. He chirped softly as the Wishmaster continued kissing at his neck, his wings twitching and fluttering as best they could.

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

"...You're so beautiful. You look so beautiful like this..."

Prismo's hands held his waist firmly, thumb rubbing at a seam in his carapace.

"Hmmm... What are you planning, oh great Wishmaster?"

"Well... We do have these bodies. For a little bit longer. I've got no plans for right now. But I could. Or, we could cuddle. Up to you, Lovebug."

Prismo busied himself with Scarab's neck again as the beetle thought. Or, well, as he tried to, but his own shell was suddenly feeling a bit warm. One of his claws traced around the Wishmaster's neck and shoulder.

"I... I think you're quite beautiful as well, Prismo. I'd be... willing to explore whatever plans you might come up with."

Prismo gave him a peck on the cheek, a maybe slightly smug grin on his face.

"I think that can be arranged."

And he closed the door of the Time Room.

#prohibitedwish #my art #digital art #scarab x prismo #scarab the god auditor #prismo the wishmaster #prohibitedwish fanfic #wrath of the wishmaster

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c-h-i-m-es · 1 year ago

Text

eren yeager

"can you do the cooking tonight?" your boyfriend asks, putting his phone down as he looks at you, his head on your lap. you frown and do the same, putting your phone on the side to look at him, "why should i?"

he scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully as he lifts head from your lap, sitting up to face you, "what do you mean why? i've been making food for us for the past days." you tilt your head, trying not to smile, and kinda failing at it, "yeah but like.. this is your house and i'm your guest here. i don't know how you could expect your guest to cook for you."

eren groans as he brings his body close to yours, wrapping his arms around you while his face rests on the crook of your neck, "no fair, you practically live here at this point." you giggle when you feel him place kisses along your neck, "you tryna kick me out?"

he stops and backens a little to look at you. you put your hands up, "kidding-" "who's gonna help me 'round if i kick you out pretty thing?" you gasp dramatically after hearing him, "wow you're such an ass. is this why you asked me to be your girl?"

he chuckles, looking away while you sit up, getting close to him. you cup his face to make him look at you, "is this why you say you love me?" you speak dramatically, him looking at you with a smile on his lips as he puts his hands on either sides of your waist to guide you on his lap.

"mhm, it hurts me to know you think i asked you out just for that." he brings his face so close to yours, looking as dashing as always with his hair messily tied in his usual bun. you smile, holding his jaw on your palm while you rub your thumb on his cheek, "oh yeah?"

"uh huh." he closes the very little gap between your lips, pulling you in with his hands on the back of your neck. you let out a sigh when you feel him bite your lower lip for you to open your mouth for him, which you do.

he smiles onto the kiss, his tongue playing along with yours. you let out a moan, hands gripping on his hair. you shiver when you feel his hand get under your tee, cold on your warm back.

"mm.." you pull back to look at him, "keep your hands to yourself eren." you could see his lips form into a small pout, "really?" you chuckle as you nod, "uh huh. i feel like you're getting too spoiled baby." you place one last kiss on his lips before getting up from his lap.

"so what do you want for dinner?" you look at him, waiting for his response. he gets up, raising a brow at you, "you cooking?" you nod, walking into the kitchen while he follows you behind, "yeah i feel bad for you. so? what you wanna have for dinner, pretty boy?"

he chuckles, "i'm down for whatever you wanna make." you shake your head, "don't complaint later though." he scoffs, leaning his back on the counter, "i never complain about your food."

"yeah sure." you take out the ingredients to cook while eren sits on the counter, watching you look so beautiful while working. "i'm going home tonight."

"huh?" you look at eren, him looking confused like you said something very unusual while all you said was you're going to your own place for the night, "what?"

"nah it was just out of blue." he gets off of the counter, coming besides you, "why though?" you laugh, turning around, hitting him on his arm while doing so. it is now you who's resting your back on the counter.

"am i not supposed to go back to my own place?" you look at him with a smile on your face. he sighs, bringing his hands to place them on either sides of your waist, "you know that's not what i'm saying."

you lock your arms around his neck, "yeah i know. i just need to get some books and i need to make sure my place does not smell of rotten food or anything."

"hm.." you do not look away when he keeps his eyes on you, "how 'bout you just move in together with me?" you almost choke on your saliva. and it is now you who's looking at him like he said something really unusual, which you think it is.

it is not something he should be asking you literally out of nowhere.

"what?"

"eren."

he is getting confused by every second now, lowkey feeling like he made you uncomfortable, "you- uhm-" you laugh when you see the face he is making. poor soul looks so terrified.

"oh eren.." you cup his face, pulling him to place a soft kiss on his lips. you look at him with a smile as you pull back, "that was really surprising." he sighs, "i'm sorry. that must have made you uncomfortable."

"no eren, no. it wasn't anything uncomfortable. it was just.. unexpected i guess? i wasn't expecting you to ask me to move in with you.. just because i was gonna sleep at my place tonight." he playfully rolls his eyes, "you are such a pain."

you chuckle, pushing him away from you so you could go back to preparing for dinner. his eyes follow your every moment while he kept silent for a minute before he speaks again, "i was serious about it though."

"what if we get annoyed or worse, tired of each other?" you say, trying to joke but it is one of a main concern for you. what happens when you see each other everyday? it might be sunshine and rainbows at the beginning. but what after that? it might not last long.

it might even cause you two to drift away. and the thought of that scares you.

he holds your wrist, making you turn so you could face him, "y/n, are you worried about that?" he is looking into your eyes, holding such gaze that it makes you look away. you only nod at him as a response.

his eyes soften as his lips form in a smile, "how cute." you groan, rolling your eyes as you slap his arm, "i literally hate you." he chuckles, grabbing your hands and pulling you to his chest.

he pats your back with one of his hand and holds your head on his chest with the other, "baby i've already seen all of you. there's nothing that could make me get tired of you." you move your head from his chest, looking at his face, "really huh?"

"yeah. really really." you bring your hand up to hold his cheek, "why do you think i'm only talking about you getting sick of me? what if i get tired of you?"

he gasps, covering his mouth with his hand, "woah girl you really hit me hard there." you laugh, holding his wrist as you bring them away from his mouth, "kidding baby, i'm only joking." you bring your hands up to your lips, kissing on the back of his hand.

"but like.. i'd never let you get tired of me, you know." you chuckle when he winks at you, before pulling you back into his arm, "let me know what you think about it, yeah?"

almost three weeks later, and eren's apartment looks like an absolute mess. you both decided three years into your relationship that you're gonna be living together.

after some discussion, you both came to a conclusion that you're moving into his place since it is bigger than yours and more closer to the life of city.

you two also decided to sell eren's tv and couch since yours was newer and better than his. no offence to the poor boy. and after finally donating and selling some item that you separated since either eren has it or just is no use for you, all your stuffs are moved into his place.

"see how i always told you that you have a lot of stuffs." eren comes behind you while you were sorting out the boxes of your clothes since you forgot to label them.

"but at least they aren't useless like most of your stuffs." last week, you were over at his place to sort out which of his things is going out and which are staying. let's just say he had a lot of junk.

he scoffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest, "some things have to stay for emotional support, you know." you chuckle, shaking your head as you open finally found the boxes with current seasonal clothes, "yeah okay, whatever you say."

"oi dummy, where is this going?" jean comes into the room along with connie, who are carrying your vanity. eren thinks, then looks at you for your answer. "you can place it in that corner." you point to the place and they bring it in.

they let out a breath, connie grabbing your bottle to get himself some water. "i can't even imagine how you two can live together." jean says, grabbing bottle from connie's hand to drink some water himself.

"i know right. y/n, make sure he don't make you go crazy." connie snickers, patting eren's shoulder before walking out, jean following him so he could help the others in the living room and kitchen.

"they're such haters, geez."

#eren yeager #attack on titan #eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger imagine #eren jeager x reader #aot imagines #aot fluff

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ktdragonborn · 3 months ago

Text

Another Spencer. (Chapter 1)

Carlton Lassiter X Female Reader (Shawn's Sister)

Summary: You finally moved back to California after almost 15 years away. When your mom and dad separated, your dad got Shawn and your mom took you. (Don't ask me why it's just what they agreed on). But now you're back! And you never expected to meet such a dashing Detective that would sweep you off your feet.

Characters: You, Carlton, Shawn and Gus, Juilet, Henry Spencer (dad), Madeleine Spencer (mom), Chief Karan Vick, mention of many other characters.

Warnings: None as of now! There will be smut and other graphic scenes as the story progresses.

~This story follows the show Psych. Plots from episodes are mentioned and some chapters will have you added to them. I do not own any characters from the TV Psych, just a big fan of the show and a bigger fan of our boy Lassie. I couldn't ever find something that hit my craving for Lassiter so here I am. This will also be a very long story. Very long. I'm starting it towards the end of Season 2 and plan on writing it throughout the whole show, skipping some episodes but in the end, it'll be very long.~

Please let me know what you think in the comments! This first chapter is kind of janky ngl, just wanted to try and establish the characters. But Lassie will the in the next chapter!

Chapter 2

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Shawn and Gus were sitting in their office, scrolling through information for a case when Shawn finally remembered vital information he had forgotten to tell his best friend. “Oh, dude!” Shawn exclaimed and Gus looked up at him with a frown.

“Yeah, Shawn?”

“I forgot to tell you. (Y/n) is moving back to town.”

“Are you serious? When? Does she need help moving? Are you two still all weird?” Gus made a little gesture with his hands and Shawn rolled his eyes.

“No, we’ve been really good for the past year honestly. We call every week or at least try to, and text when we can. I think she’s here right now honestly, I know my dad was gonna help her move in.”

“Is she living with him?”

“No, she got a house near the beach I think.”

“Does she… you know,” Gus trailed off and raised his eyebrows at Shawn. “Yes, yes, she knows Gus of course she does. She’s my sister.”

“I just wanted to make sure,” Gus moved his head and went back to his research. There was a loud ringing that echoed in the office and Shawn grabbed his phone and had a big smile on his face. He answered and Gus tried to remember when he last saw Shawn happy to answer his phone.

“Hey, little sis!” Gus immediately understood and had a smile on his face too. You three had always been tight until you moved away with your mom in the divorce. Gus knew Shawn held some resentment towards you, leaving him alone with Henry, but Gus was happy that you two were friends again.

“At Dad's house? Why not yours?... Oh you know your cooking is fine…Ah, yeah Dad is better at steaks than you are…Sure tonight works, can Gus come?... Perfect, we'll see you tonight!” Shawn hung up the phone and looked at Gus with his arms stretched out. “Dinner tonight at my dad's with (Y/n)!” Gus pumped his arms in the air and they both celebrated in their office before another phone rang.

“It's Lassie, we gotta go!”

~I know, you know~

You hopped out of your car and adjusted your shirt before grabbing the desert you bought on your way over. You smiled as you looked at your dad’s house. Not much had changed. You walked up the path to the house and saw that the main door was open, with the screen door closed, letting the cool air from the sea. You heard noises of pots and pans coming from the kitchen as you entered your dad's house. It had been years since you set foot in here and when you did it felt like a blast to the past. There was slight humming coming from the kitchen and your smile got even wider. You hadn’t seen your dad this happy in years, and with catching up with Shawn now and then you know your dad has been the same grumpy man towards your brother. “Hello?” you called out as you walked into the kitchen and your dad spun around with a big smile.

“(Y/n)!” He exclaimed and walked over to you to hug you. You hugged him back with a laugh.

“You saw me earlier today Dad and you’re still this excited to see me?”

“I’m excited for a lot of reasons. Shawn and Gus come over all the time but I can’t remember the last time I had all three kids in my house for dinner.” You smiled as he pulled away and took the dessert away from you, putting it in the fridge.

“That’s a good point, it's been so long since I’ve seen Shawn and Gus too, I’m kind of nervous.”

“Nervous for what?” your Dad inquired while he spun around and leaned against the counter.

“I’m not sure exactly. I mean Shawn and I have been doing so well recently that I don’t want to mess us up again.”

“You know you did nothing to mess up your relationship with him. It was really just your mother and me. Once you and she left, Shawn became such a rebellious kid.”

“Well that and the fact that he had a cop for a dad doesn’t help,” you laughed and your dad laughed too.

“Don’t blame yourself, kid. You didn’t do anything wrong. Unfortunately, you and Shawn got pinned against each other in the divorce and that wasn’t fair to either of you.” You nodded along with what your dad was saying and stayed silent for a second to see if your brother had arrived yet.

“Dad…is it true that Mom left you?” Your dad looked a little sad at the memory but gave a gruff nod in response. “Shawn thinks you left her. I didn’t say anything because I figured you or Mom should tell him, but why didn’t you tell him?”

“He was already so angry, but I couldn’t let him be any angrier at your mom. In his eyes, she took you from me and him, I’m not sure what reason he thinks that was for but I can’t imagine it's good.”

“Thank you for protecting me and Mom,” you said in a small voice with a tiny smile on your lips.

“Anything for my girls,” your dad smiled and gave you another hug. “Now, help me set the table!”

~That I’m not tellin’ the Truth~

Shawn and Gus arrived right after your dad finished cooking the steaks. “Gus!!!!” you nearly squealed and ran up to him. He let out a high-pitched squeal right back at you and you both embraced in a huge hug. Gus wrapped his arms around you to pick you up and spin you once before putting you back down.

“I can’t believe you’re back! I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again!”

“Well even if I didn’t move back here I would’ve come to visit!”

“Uh huh, almost 15 years and you never came back to visit,” Gus said with a matter-of-fact attitude.

“Fair point, fair point, however, I was working on my degree so I couldn’t totally afford to travel.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Shawn said while shaking his head. You gave him a big goofy smile and he did the same. You two embraced in a much more tender hug than the one you just shared with Gus. You both held each other tight, before pulling away and smiling at each other.

“How are you, Shawn?”

“Better now that you’re back in California. Maybe you can help take some of the heat off of me from Dad.”

“I don’t know,” you laughed and started to walk to your seat at the table. “I don’t get into nearly as much shit as you do.”

“Yeah, you’ll see. Santa Barbara has something out for us ‘Spencers’.” You laughed and all sat down at the table while your dad brought the steaks over from the counter.

“I’m not even gonna let you guys ask about me,” you stated as you filled your plate with the sides of tonight's dinner. “Tell me all about this Psych business.”

“Oh, I’m not sure-” Gus started, taking a big bite of his food. “After all, you’re the one who's been gone.”

“Exactly! And I’m back now so you’ll have plenty of time to hear how my life in Colorado was. After Shawn would tell me about a case you guys had I would try so hard to find somewhere I could read about it but it never really worked.”

“Fine, but we need to hear about you too.”

“I swear, I’ll tell you some stuff, but my life has not been nearly as exciting as your guys.”

“Why do you say that?” Shawn asked. He had known about your accomplishments and was shocked you were downplaying them so much.

“I mean all I did was graduate high school, graduate college, get my Master’s degree and I started my own practice after receiving my Doctorate.”

“And you’re only 26 right now!” Shawn exclaimed and Gus raised his eyebrows and nodded in agreement.

“That is pretty impressive.”

“Well when you’re doing the same thing as your mom, she tends to have some pointers about how to get things done quickly.”

“How is Mom?” Shawn asked and you shifted your eyes to your dad, who had been very quiet since dinner started. You assumed he just wanted to watch and listen to all three of his kids talk and get along. You knew the side of Shawn that was showing right now was not something your dad saw often. Your dad’s eye shot to yours and he smiled a little when he saw you looking at him.

“She’s good!” You continued, taking the smile as a ‘go ahead’. “She’s kicking ass in her own practice. She’s actually started traveling all over, performing psych evals on current and new law enforcement officers. She inspired me to do the same. So, although I have my own practice, once or twice a week, I’ll go around, not just to law enforcement, but to any business that wants to do psych evals on their staff.”

“Look at us! Two siblings who created their own businesses,” Shawn said excitedly and looked around the table. Gus shook his head and swallowed his food.

“Shawn, I love what we created, but it’s not nearly as impressive as your 26-year-old sister. We’re both 30-year-olds running a made-up business.”

“It is not made up!” Shawn declared and put his hands on the table. “We solve very real cases and earn very real money.”

“Sounds real to me,” you defended as you took a bite of food. “Best cases, go!”

“Solved a murder at the spelling bee.”

“Oh, we helped a guy with multiple personality disorder. If he’s still in town you may wanna talk to him. One of his personalities was trying to get gender reassignment surgery without the main personality knowing. And the other personality didn’t like that and started killing all the psychiatrists they went to,” Gus said as he pointed his fork at you.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I wanna hear after you tell me to talk to someone,” you replied sarcastically.

“We had an alien abduction case where a married couple was drugging and stealing from single men who went to a speed dating thing at a bar.”

“Where did the alien abduction come from?”

“That’s what all the victims said happened to them. They used some powerful drugs,” Gus explained. His eyebrows shot up when he remembered another case. “(Y/n), do you remember Scary Sherry?”

“Yeah, the lady who jumped out of the window of the asylum?”

“We had a case that involved that!”

“Yeah, some sorority girls accidentally scared a girl and she fell out that same window,” Shawn continued. “The dead girl's adopted sister went on a killing spree. Almost killed one of the detectives of the Santa Barbra Police Department because she was undercover.”

“Wow. All over some some prank because of an urban legend?” Your dad finally laughed and spoke up.

“These two numbskulls weren’t supposed to watch what happened. And technically they didn’t. They saw Sherry in the window and then when they opened their eyes she was gone. I was able to grab her and pull her back into the building before she jumped.” You looked at Shawn and Gus slackjawed.

“You’re telling me, you two started an urban legend?”

“That’s exactly what we did,” Gus said, very proud of himself. Shawn smirked before going back to their cases.

“I unearthed a T-Rex skull.”

“We, unearthed a T-Rex skull,” Gus corrected and you laughed.

“Like an actual full T-Rex skull?”

“Yeah, it's in the museum right now actually. I’ll have to take you to see it someday.”

“Before that, we made it to the finals on American Duos. We were Nigel St. Nigel’s bodyguards. He was the target of multiple assassination attempts.”

“Was he as much of a dick in real life as he is on the show?”

“Yes,” all three men at the table chimed in and you all laughed.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen all three of you agree on something. He must’ve been a real pain.”

“He also scored us poorly on what should have been the winning Duo of the season.” You could tell Gus was definitely still angry about that.

“We helped prove Jimmy Nichols's innocence in a murder case too,” Shawn added.

“You mean he didn’t actually kill someone? That’s out of character for him.”

“Hes a jockey too. Didn’t grow at all after middle school.”

“There was also that ring of thieves with the nanny cover. We found that because the Chief of the SBPD just had a baby and needed a full-time nanny.”

“The Chief hired you for that?”

“Yeah, it was supposed to be easy but Shawn had to read into everything like always.”

“And look what I got us, an organization that would rob people's houses by using their security cameras that come with the nannies.”

“That is pretty intense, I won’t lie,” you said and stood up, taking everyone's plates from them and cleaning up the dishes. Your dad got up to help you while Shawn and Gus kept talking about their cases.

“Dad was also a part of a creepy secret lodge. He didn’t want us involved but someone was murdered with the slightest venom of a snake from Brazil. The venom was put in the weird masks they had to wear.”

“Dad you were in a secret club?” You questioned and watched him frown as he grabbed the dessert you brought and started plating up the food.

“Yes, I was, but I wasn’t in it for long. Too many politics.”

“I love that for you. Your own secret club,” you laughed and took the plates of dessert back to the table.

“Those aren’t all of the cases we’ve solved though. Just the most memorable ones as of now.”

“Well I’m glad Psych is doing so well,” you smiled and ate some dessert. “If you guys ever need help just let me know, I’ll be happy to help. Especially right now, I don’t have as many clients as I did in Colorado just yet.”

“You know the SBPD might be hiring for a head psychiatrist position. We could put in a good word for you if you want,” Shawn offered and smiled at you.

“I’ll have to think about it for sure. Once you are your own boss, it's hard to go back to regular work.”

Everyone agreed with you and focused on their dessert. You and Shawn started reminiscing on old times and Gus and your dad would chime in every now and again. You were a big family again, and it was almost as if you hadn’t been gone for the past 14 years. And that’s exactly how you wanted it to be.

#psych #carlton lassiter #shawn spencer #burton guster #Juliet Ohara #karen vick #henry spencer #carlton lassiter x reader #carlton lassiter x female reader #carlton lassiter smut #carlton lassiter x reader smut #carlton lassiter x female reader smut #psych tv

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