Tumgik
#I posted it on ao3 for fun expecting no one to care but when just a handful of people read it and said they liked it I was overjoyed
meownotgood · 7 months
Note
Can I ask what your ✨Aki journey✨ was like? I’m a Aki girlie but you clearly love Aki more than any blog I’ve ever seen (purrr) When did you start becoming interested in him? Was it an aHA moment or did it develop over time? I’m really curious!!! What inspired you to start this blog? I live, laugh, love backstories 🫶🏾❤️‍🔥
YES I would be so happy to answer this!!!!!!!
so before I read chainsaw man, I knew next to nothing about it, I wasn't really a manga reader in general to be honest but I started getting into it because I wanted to get caught up with jujutsu kaisen after finishing the anime. when I did, I really enjoyed jjk, I wanted to read more manga and a friend suggested I read chainsaw man because it's similar. I was like okay... a lot of people are into it... it looks cool... why not.
and when I started reading and I got to that third chapter and I saw aki... I literally said to myself: yeah, he is going to be my favorite. because he's exactly my type — the suit, the hair tied up so it's long and pretty when he takes it down, the SMOKING??? THE PIERCINGS????? I thought his hair was silly but adorable, his personality was stern but quirky and likable, his kon power was so cool. he was just so cute and hot and definitely my type of character.
but really, even though aki was always my favorite character from the start, my obsession truly began when I finished the manga. aki's arc is just so good... I fell in love with him the whole way through but especially after the manga was over... I loved watching him grow as a character, he just feels so real and relatable personality wise and story wise. he's immensely flawed but kindhearted to his core. he's so human. I love how he's emotional and soft and the conclusion to his arc is genuinely my favorite thing in any piece of media ever, it's so bittersweet and compelling. (and I'm a mess for that bittersweet shit okay)
anyway after I read chainsaw man for the first time I was feeling a mix of emotions between "wow that was the greatest thing ever" and "what the fuck did I just read" but more than anything I yearned for more aki, and so I read it a second time almost immediately after, and then the aki brain infection just grew worse and worse.... was screenshotting every panel of him... I read it a third time... a fourth time in the colored version to collect more panels......... I started my blog over a year ago to post fanfic and rant about aki and the rest is history
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paganinpurple · 1 year
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AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED
Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.
It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:
As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.
If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.
No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).
Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.
There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.
For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.
The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.
Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.
If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.
Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.
Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.
People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.
Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.
Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.
It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.
The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.
I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.
I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.
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yexthiccxa · 8 months
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The Angel With Horns Pt. 1
summary: you accept a teaching position at jujutsu high where you get to work with your childhood crush, suguru geto. unfortunately, that means you'll also have to work with your childhood nemesis, satoru gojo. are you going to rekindle new flames or potentially make new ones?
wordcount: 7.3k 🙃 (this is pt. 1 and it's four chapters long)
c/w: gojo/fem!reader, geto/fem!reader, gojo/oc, geto/oc, modern!au, teacher!au, smut, fluff & smut, some plot, plot what plot, flashbacks, timeskip, asshole!gojo, flirty!gojo, cocky!gojo, soft!geto, cousin!shoko, mutual pining, teasing, flirting, playful banter, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, sensual tension, sexual tension, pet names (angel), dry humping, fingering, oral, fantasizing, multiple orgasms, inappropriate use of cursed energy, inappropriate use of cursed techniques
a/n: eeeep. this is my first fanfic so feedback is welcome 🥺it’s a first person pov where the unnamed oc is meant to be the reader! Currently working on Part 2!
edit: just posted this part on ao3 if you'd rather read it there!
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✦✧✸✧✦ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ✦✧✸✧✦
Chapter 1: Reunited
It’s clear as day but my mind is fuzzy. There are thousands of thoughts surging through me, but all I can focus on is the pleasure filling my body. For as long as I’ve known him, I’ve always wondered if this day would ever come. My hips are pinned against his counter. Arms stretching wide while my fingers grip his sink. My neck rolls back as the rays of light blind me from his window. 
In my head, I’ve spent countless hours wondering how it feels to have his body pressed against mine. Or how his breath hovers on my neck as he pulls me closer. His scent is undeniably sweet, but the way he handles me tells me that he’s everything but that.
“I always thought you were a good girl,” he growls in my ear, kissing his way down to my neck like it was never his to claim. “I never expected you to prove me wrong.”
I imagined how his kisses would consume me, how his touch would paralyze me, and how his moans would ignite me. But in all these years, I never imagined this entire fantasy would be with someone else instead.
✦✧✸✧✦
TWO WEEKS AGO
The clouds begin to subside as I walk through the familiar gates of Jujutsu High. The droplets of rain fade away and a strange mix of emotions hit my core. Today marks the beginning of my journey as a teacher here, but I can't stop myself from feeling a pang of anxiety. Amid the unease, there’s still a sense of comfort in returning to a place I once called home.
My footsteps echo softly on the hallway tiles as I make my way to room 3-A for orientation. The memories of my time as a student creep into my thoughts. It’s changed in many ways, but I find solace in knowing that there are still a few people here that I can lean on.
When I moved back to Tokyo and got the teaching position, Shoko mentioned that Suguru taught here as well. Memories of him invaded my thoughts. We were practically inseparable during our high school years, largely due to my close bond with Shoko. Wherever she was, I was sure to follow—our Ieiri blood may tell us we’re cousins, but I always thought of her as my sister. Her friends were always fun to be around. However, they constantly got into situations that always put me on edge. Shoko has always been such a free spirit, and while I adore her, I know her comfort zone far surpasses my own. Despite my lack of participation in their wild adventures, I surprisingly never felt left out or lonely.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go? Finding curses in abandoned hospitals sounds way cooler than studying curses… in a book,” I muttered to Suguru as I gestured to my pile of textbooks.
“How many times do we have to go over this? I’d rather practice my curse techniques here instead.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and lowered his face towards mine—his breath tickling my ear.
“Plus, taking care of you is a hell of a lot better than taking care of everyone else,” he chuckled.
“Who said you needed to take care of me?” I protested. He remained close, and I felt his mouth curve.
“I never said I needed to. I want to take care of you,” he whispered. A secret for only my ears to hear.
Throughout the years, I grew to love his playful laughter. It was soft, tinged with warmth and sincerity—though it always seemed to trail his jokes that slightly missed the mark. And his touch, though never sensual, always felt protective—like a wolf looking after its pack. The more I learned how sweet Suguru was, the deeper I fell in love. For years my guarded soul harbored this secret, and even if the world was ending, I swore to myself that I would never tell a soul. The "what ifs" often danced through my thoughts, but ignorant bliss always outweighed the risk of potential heartbreak.
My thoughts come to a halt as I turn a corner, and suddenly, I'm face-to-face with a towering presence. My breath catches, and my eyes instinctively trail up the contours of his strong frame. The world around me blurs for a moment, and my heart quickens. But before I can fully process the shock, a familiar voice calls out to me.
"Hey, there’s my girl! Did you realize the world wasn’t as great without me?" Suguru teases, his voice bringing back years of memories.
"Suguru!" I exclaim, a surge of excitement makes me toss my arms around him. My words tumble out eagerly, "If I was your girl, I probably would’ve never left." I laugh, though my heart races as curiosity causes his brow to rise. “I’m just kidding. Everything was great, but I’m glad to be back though." It may not have been the best save, but it’ll work for now.
My arms tighten ever so slightly, and I’m compelled to study him. His shoulders are still broad, yet somehow, they seem larger than I remember. His hair has grown longer, though he still keeps it partially tied. The chiseled contours of his jaw feel like steel against my skin, but his arms around waist are gentle and comforting. I notice that the morning gloom has officially cleared, because his beauty is bathed in sunlight. As we break away from our hug, his dark eyes meet mine with recognition and warmth, as if our time apart has only deepened our connection.
"Well, I’m glad it was good. I’ve missed you." he rumbles, his voice resonating like a soothing melody.
"Likewise," I reply with a warm grin, feeling a rush of nostalgia. "Will you be at orientation today?"
He explains that he has to help Yaga with some setup throughout the morning. I try not to let my smile drop, but he's quick to notice. Of course he notices, it's Suguru. Before I can even process my thoughts, he adds, "I have the same lunch break as everyone else though, let's catch up then? We can meet in the courtyard."
A surge of excitement washes over me, and I nod eagerly. "Sounds perfect," I reply. Feeling a newfound sense of confidence, I continue on my way to the orientation room. 
“I’ve missed you." his voice echoes through my mind. For a moment, I can't help but wonder, was he thinking about me the whole time I was gone? Why did he call me his girl? Does that mean he had feelings for me? No—stop, that can’t be. If he had feelings for me, he would've said something, right? But maybe that’s just wishful thinking.
My stomach begins to flutter as a seed of hope is planted into my heart. The slightest possibility of Suguru's interest sends me to the moon. I know I’m not the same girl I was when we last saw each other. So maybe, just maybe, this is a sign.
As I head towards the room, my steps feel lighter than they've been in a long time. For once in my life, I can finally hope for something more. I finally believe that I…my heart sinks as I reach the door. 
Blocking my path is a figure I desperately hoped to avoid—the infamous Satoru Gojo.
Chapter 2: Repulsive
Much like Suguru, Satoru’s build overpowers me. His arms rest on the edge of the doorframe and I can see the contours of his bicep peek through his shirt. I take in a sharp inhale and reluctantly step forward. Satoru will not, I repeat, not get the better of me today. I hesitate for a moment, locking my eyes with his.
He peeks out from the edge of his sunglasses, and the corners of his lips begin to curl. I watch as pieces of his platinum hair barely brush the top of his rims, while others just fall short of his eyes. It’s been years, but those striking pools of blue remain etched in my memory. Swirls of azure, navy and cobalt fill my vision, but I stop myself before my gaze begins to linger.
I attempt to slip past him but find myself with no clear escape. As I contemplate my next move, I mutter a greeting through gritted teeth, "Satoru."
His smirk grows into the devilish grin that haunted my past. "Hey there, Angel,” he purrs. “No hello? Or how have you been?" His tone takes on a playful note, laced with a hint of something else—something I can't quite decipher.
I try my best to let the moment pass, but I’ve let this go on for far too long. I’m done ignoring his comments. “You know I have a real name right?” I bite back.
“But why switch it up now? You’ve always been my little angel,” he teases mockingly. 
“And you’ve always been a pain in my ass,” I reply, my stare unwavering.
“She fights back,” his brow rises in shock. “I like this new version of you. Keep it up.” His grip on the doorframe loosens and he turns to make his way into the room. 
I let out a deep sigh, feeling the tension of my grip escape through my fingers. As I regain focus, I notice Satoru has turned back, his face mere inches from my ear. His voice is smooth, like silk across my skin as he whispers, “I can be a pain in a lot of other places, but I promise it’ll feel good.” 
My eyes widen as my pupils darken. My mouth runs dry as he chuckles his way to the edge of the room.
Memories of my high school days with Satoru flood back into my mind. His words cut through me, but in a way more akin to pleasure than pain. A mix of emotions overwhelm me, but I ultimately scowl at the sight of him. While Shoko and Suguru have helped me blossom, Satoru has always been the thorn in my side.
“Come on Suguru, are you really going to stay with her again?” Satoru asked.
“It’s okay, just go without me. I’ll go with you next time,” Suguru replies. His arm raises to scratch the back of his head.
This is the last festival of the season; there won't be another chance. “Please just go. I’ll be fi—,” I uttered.
“Well, enjoy your time with the little angel,” Satoru calls out as he continues walking away.
He makes his way out of our view, and I turn to Suguru, “Why do you even call him your best friend? He’s kind of a dick.”
Suguru laughs. “When you go through some of the stuff that we have, you’ll see that there’s a bond that goes deeper than blood. He’s a bit rough around the edges, but it’s not an excuse. Don’t worry. I can talk to him.”
I can’t stop myself from smiling with adoration.
I quickly find an empty seat in the orientation room, my mind still buzzing. The comfort and familiarity of the school are now tainted by the presence of someone I had hoped to forget. It was stupid of me to think Suguru and Satoru would drift apart after all these years. As I gather up my resolve to remain close with Suguru, I accept that their connection means my path with Satoru will cross more often than I would like.
✦✧✸✧✦
A full morning of orientation reduces my brain to mush. The anticipation builds and all I can pay attention to is the clock ticking away. Yaga drones on about teamwork, collaboration, and trust – unsurprising, considering his history mentoring Suguru and Satoru. If he survived that, I’m sure being the principal is a piece of cake.
As the clock finally strikes noon, I gather my belongings and head for the door.
“Ms. Ieiri—one moment please,” Yaga calls to me, stopping in my tracks. He assembles the group of new hires and hands each one a folded letter. “This is for the afternoon sessions. On this sheet you’ll find…”
His words trail off and I find myself glancing at the clock again, hoping that Suguru hasn’t been waiting too long. Once we’re dismissed, I rush towards the courtyard.
While my legs carry me on autopilot through the halls, I take a moment to examine the letter. The paper feels coarse, the creases are weighted with importance, yet the ink is delicately placed. The overwhelming amount of information makes it clear that I'll have to review it once lunch is over. I scan the letter to find main items scheduled for the afternoon:
1pm: Mentor Session (Room 2-C)
2pm: Lesson Planning (Room 1-B)
3pm: Team Review (Room 1-B)
Seems simple enough. I approach the stairs leading to the courtyard, when my eyes catch the small section at the end of the letter:
Mentor Assignment: …
As I hurry, I fail to notice the uneven step at the halfway mark. My foot catches the edge and suddenly, I’m airborne. I feel the letter escape my fingertips. My heart leaps into my throat and the world starts to blur.
I reach for the railing, but my grasp barely holds. In the following moments, I find myself colliding with a figure. His hold is strong, bringing me comfort. I feel his fingers slowly cup my arms—they’re soft, tender, holding me with care. 
“Easy there,” he rumbles. “I got you,” his voice is low and radiates through my core. Suguru’s eyes lock onto mine and I feel the heat beginning to smolder. “I got you.” His words bounce through my head.
“Suguru. Sorry… I—” The words are impossible to make out.
“Don’t apologize,” Suguru smiles. “I like having you in my arms.” He adds a playful wink sending butterflies through my chest.
I hold his gaze and my body melts into his. Suguru and I have been close for years, but this time, it feels altered, deeper. It feels like the intensity of our connection is seeking something beyond friendship. We’re inches from each other and I wonder if he can hear my thoughts or feel my heart beat out of my chest. Time slows as I marvel at his smile. I let my mind wander just for a moment…
Suguru lowers, barely touching his lips against mine. He starts soft, planting kisses down my neck as he caresses my cheek. His touch trails to the rest of my body and delight surges within me. It's gentle, but I crave more. He bites my lip before slowly letting his tongue make his way inside my mouth.
Passion builds within me as one hand grips my hair and the other grabs my waist. When his fingers gently graze the small of my back, I writhe with pleasure, hoping he can’t feel the squeeze between my thighs. His taste is intoxicating—sending me into a fever that I can’t seem to break. 
I close my eyes and let his mouth take me.
“I’ve been waiting for you…” he breaks away to tell me. His voice is on the brink of losing control. “...for a very long ti—”
“Hello? Are you okay?” Suguru asks. My focus immediately returns. “I’ve been waiting for you, so I was heading back inside to make sure you were doing alright.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Yaga needed to give us this letter and—oh fuck. My letter.” 
He senses my worry and swoops me up in one solid motion, but I feel too weak to stand.
I turn to see that my letter has found its way in a puddle pooling at the edge of the steps. I rush down to grab it, but it’s already too late. While I can make out certain areas, the majority of it has smeared away. I bring my gaze towards bottom in hopes of making out some of the letters:
M..nt…. ….gnment: S…..u G…o
I pause—Suguru Geto. A knot hits my stomach and I’m waiting to identify whether this feeling is anxiety or joy.
I look up from the letter expectantly. “Suguru, my mentor… is this right?” I ask.
“Yeah, it is! It’s nice being paired with someone you know. It’ll be just like old times.” His words are the only confirmation I need.
✦✧✸✧✦
Although the years have passed, it feels like Suguru and I have never skipped a beat. I miss the way he talks, the way he laughs, the way a strand of hair always manages to fall even when it’s tied. I could spend hours looking into his eyes and hearing all of his adventures and how he’s mastered his curse techniques. 
The minutes go on and the end of our lunch hour approaches. Suguru frowns as he glances at his watch, and offers an apologetic smile. "I have to head out a bit early. Yaga needs some help before the mentor sessions start," he explains.
I nod understandingly, though I can't help but feel disappointed. "No problem, I’ll see you in a bit?"
He grins, those familiar eyes twinkling with warmth. "Definitely, I’ll see you later!" He gives me a hug and we part ways.
With a sway in my step, I find myself standing before the door of 2-C—but it’s locked. I scan the hallway to see if anyone can help, but there’s no one in sight. I grab my phone to text Suguru for help, but fate has other plans.
Before I can send the message, a familiar presence creeps up behind me. The weight of his aura envelops me. His body feels warm, yet somehow my blood runs cold. With a key in hand, he moves to unlock the door.
A gasp escapes my lips, and I feel the tension build around us. My heart races as I hear a voice, a soft whisper that ignites my soul.
"Hey there, angel," the voice purrs. "Were you looking for me?"
I let out a deep breath to release the fury that boiled inside of me. “As a matter of fact, no. I wasn’t looking for you… Satoru.”
Chapter 3: Reinforcements
It takes me a second, but it finally registers. The letter didn’t actually say Suguru Geto. It was supposed to say Satoru Gojo. Suguru’s voice rings though my head:
“Suguru, my mentor… is this right?” I try to recall. I guess I didn’t explicitly mention a name.
“Yeah, it is!” Damn it, why didn’t I say his name?
“It’s nice being paired with someone you know.” My body feels heavy as my soul fills with dread.
“It’ll be just like old times.” The world begins to spin around me.
I walk through the door without looking at Satoru and head straight for the windows on the other side of the room. The room itself is quite small, just large enough to fit a blackboard, a full teacher’s desk, and three smaller desks for the students. There’s a bit of extra room to spare, but none of it is enough to keep me away from Satoru.
In the reflection of the window, Satoru props himself against the larger desk, his long arms draped behind him. His smirk tells me he's completely at ease, as if he enjoys torturing me this way. “Not who you were expecting?”
I hold my response and continue staring out the window. I suspect he can read my discomfort.
His footsteps are quiet, but I feel them reverberate behind me. The air from the window feels cool, but it fades when his body radiates against mine. He leans down, bringing his hands around my sides. As he places them on the window sill, I can feel his face inch closer to mine. He’s too close for comfort but I can’t bring myself to push him away.
“With a bit more time, angel, you’ll see that I’m full of surprises.” I can feel the rumble in his throat as he speaks. “That is…if you’re willing to find out.”
My face turns hot and my thighs tighten. I may hate Satoru, but there’s something about his charm that feels irresistible. After years of dealing with him, I thought I’d get used to it. But this doesn’t feel like the same Satoru I used to know.
His arms are still placed on either side of me, but I swat him away, “Don’t you have better things to do than to tease me?” My brow rises. “Maybe… actually mentoring me?”
He lifts his arms in defense, “Hey angel, sorry if I’m coming on a little strong. I’m just having some fun.” He nudges my arm, and the force leaves me unsteady. “For old times’ sake.”
I roll my eyes and take a seat at one of the smaller desks.
“Plus, I’m not big on mentoring,” he adds. “Yaga has me doing this because I owe him for saving my ass on the last mission. Luckily he assigned me to you, and we both know you’re more than capable of doing this job without my help. It’s always been like that.”
“Oh how sweet. Is this your way of complimenting me?” I tease. He wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t going to give in that easily.
“What do you mean? I always give you compliments.”
“Calling me angel doesn’t count,” I sneer.
“Would you like me to call you princess instead?” He curled into a self-assured smile.
I blush, trying to bite back a chuckle. I lied, this is the same old Satoru. “So are you going to keep making up names, or are you actually going to teach me something?”
He brings himself close, his face stopping just short of mine. “I can teach you a lot of things, angel.”
I let out a sigh, “I’m serious, Satoru.”
“Fine, if you insist.” My curiosity is piqued as he props himself up and heads for the blackboard. 
“Lesson number one: If you ever want me, don’t want me,” he smirked.
I drop my shoulders and let out a sigh, but he continues.
“I’m serious! Lesson number two: If you ever need me…”
I finish his sentence, “Don’t need you?” His smile confirms my thoughts. “What’s number 3, Gojo-senpai?” My eyes plead as I pout in an attempt to mock him.
He seems uneasy. “Don’t do that,” he quickly snaps back, and I straighten up. “And now, lesson number three, the most important one: If you ever need my help, learn how to help yourself first.”
With a hint of sarcasm, I reply, “Wow, what a wonderful lesson. I’ve learned so much.” I gather my belongings and prepare to leave. “I think I'll just ask Yaga to assign me to someone else.”
He steps closer, blocking my path before I can fully rise from my seat. "No, wait. Don't do that,” he implores, his gaze earnest. “Can you stick it out for a little while? Just until this mentorship period ends. I need to get through these two weeks so Yaga won't make me do this again next year.”
I force my way up and scoff in his face, “Why on earth would I do that? What the hell have you done in these last few hours or even the last ten years that would make me put in a good word for you?” My volume increases. “You constantly tease me, you’ve never helped me, and—”
“I can hook you up with Suguru,” he murmurs.
“Excuse me?” My voice remains elevated from the anger.
“I can hook you up with Suguru,” he repeats firmly.
“Oh,” I pause as my voice settles. “Why would you do that?”
“For someone so smart, you ask the silliest things. It’s obvious you like him, angel.” 
My cheeks heat, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his penetrating gaze.
“It’s been obvious…for years—at least to me,” his voice softens. "And I promise, if you put in a good word for me, I'll help you with Suguru. No tricks, no games. Do we have a deal?" He extends his hand, waiting for my response.
This deal seems too good to be true. I try to figure out what the catch is, but nothing comes to mind. Unlike before, his gaze feels genuine and his smile seems sincere. I take a deep breath, preparing for a leap of faith. For the first time in my life, I guess I’m going to have to trust Satoru.
I reach for his hand, allowing a confident smile to grace my lips. “Deal.”
✦✧✸✧✦
Although this is not how I pictured my first couple of weeks back in Tokyo, this alliance isn’t as terrible as I thought. At the end of our work days, Satoru and I hang back in Room 2-C for our “mentoring” sessions. We spend 1% of the sessions on actual work, and the other 99% on dating. I tell him that it’s been a while since I’ve dated, and Satoru jumps at the opportunity to refresh me on the art of flirting.
 "Alright angel—you’ve known Suguru for a while, but I’m guessing like you only ever interact with him as a friend. Try starting…” he picks up his hand to graze the side of my arm, fingers lightly dragging towards my wrist.  “...with light touches. Make sure you maintain eye contact and smile genuinely." His voice is velvet and slow.
A shiver runs through me, and my mouth goes dry. I clear my throat. "Light touches, like this?" I laugh hesitantly. I try to mimic his advice, but it’s nowhere near as gentle as his.
Satoru chuckles. "Close, but you’re too tense. Just relax a little bit."
I soften my touch and continue to brush my fingers up his arm. As I slowly pull him towards me, our eyes lock and I’m immediately mesmerized. There’s a flutter in my core and it turns into desire. There’s an ache between my thighs, and moisture begins to form.
“That’s it,” he purrs as he leans towards me. “Just like that.” The pull of his voice is a magnet that continues to bring me closer. My heart races while the quickness in my breath trails slowly behind.
I close my eyes and let my cravings take control.
Satoru rests his thumb on the edge of my lip while the rest curl under my chin. He tilts my head and slowly whispers, “And that is exactly what you should do…” His voice perks back up to his normal tone. “...when you’re flirting with Suguru,” he smiles.
I shoot my eyes open and straighten up. What the hell was I thinking? Was I seriously trying to kiss Satoru? I mean, it wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Wait…no, stop that. Something must be wrong, my wires are completely crossed. I shake it off to rid myself of the residual shame.
Shoko braided my hair like she’s done a million times before. “Hey, who do you think is cuter, Suguru or Satoru?” she posed out of curiosity.
“Hmm, that’s so hard. You know they're both hot.” I laughed. “If we’re going purely off of looks, probably Satoru. Sometimes I hate him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t cute. I think it’s the eyes.” 
“Yeah,” she replies with a hint of dejection in her voice. “I think so too.” I knew what was coming, but I could tell she had trouble getting it out. “Would you be mad if I asked him out?”
I pulled away for just a moment, “Oh my god, go ahead! Don’t worry about me. Suguru is still cute, plus he’s way nicer to me anyways.”
She paused for a moment, then threw her arms into a hug, “You’re the best.”
I smiled back and returned her embrace. “Okay, now finish doing my hair.”
✦✧✸✧✦
During these last two weeks the only times I see Suguru are during our lunch breaks. His schedule is hectic, but I can see that he makes the time for me—even though I know he doesn’t have any. I use these moments to practice some of the things I’ve learned from Satoru. Light touch, eye contact, genuine smiles.
I’ve touched Suguru’s arm, stared into his eyes, and laughed at his jokes many times before, but it was never like this. This time, all of my actions are bold, assertive, and confident. It’s no surprise that Satoru is a master of charm, but I didn’t expect him to be a decent teacher as well. Come Monday, he’ll be happy to know that Yaga will get glowing reviews for his mentorship.
For today’s lunch, Suguru and I are sitting on the courtyard steps, inches away from where he caught me just two weeks before. He has a look on his face that I haven’t seen before. I can tell something is on his mind by the way his brow furrows and his smile drops.
“Hey, what’s up?” I ask.
“I was—” he pauses, then retracts. “Nevermind, it’s nothing.”
“Come on, Suguru. You can tell me,” I place my hand on top of his.
He smiles, and I can tell my assurance has calmed him down. “I just found out that I’m leaving for a mission next week, and I won’t be back for a few days.”
“Oh,” I reply, a pang of disappointment lingers in my tone.
“I was wondering…” he starts. “Did you maybe want to hang out or something before I leave?” A nervous grin crosses his face before he adds, “Like outside of work?”
I perk up at his proposal. “Of course! I would love that. When were you thinking?”
“I know it’s last minute, but maybe… tomorrow night? It’s okay if you’re bu—”
Cut him off before he has the chance to ramble. I reply with, “I would love to.”
Our lunch continues and the conversation shifts between current events, life updates and playful banter. I learn that Suguru still prefers staying in over going out, he’s got a new obsession with cooking, and his hair care routine is a lot more involved than I thought. As he speaks, I can’t help but admire him and the person he’s become.
When we prepare to part ways, Suguru confirms our plans for the weekend, “So, I’ll see you tomorrow? Meet at my place around 7?” Grinning as he inputs his address into my phone.
“I’ll see you there,” I return a smile and hug him before I leave. The feeling of his touch is perfect.
Chapter 4: Reckless
The workday ends and I make my way to the usual room for my last mentoring session with Satoru. As I walk in, he notices the stupid grin plastered on my face. “You look a little chipper today, angel. What’s up? Excited that you’re no longer forced to spend with me?”
“Well, yes,” I laugh. “But also… Suguru asked me to hang out tomorrow tonight. I’m going to meet him at his place,” I fight to contain my excitement.
Satoru’s brow lifts with intrigue, “If you wanted an invite to come over, you could’ve just asked me.”
Confusion clouds my brain. “Excuse me?” I ask.
“He didn’t tell you we were roommates?”
The clouds dissipate when I realize what’s going on. “No he didn’t. I guess it makes sense though.” The thought of Satoru joining in on our date fills me with unease. “You won’t be there right?” I clarify.
“You can relax, I’m meeting up with someone too. No need to worry about me barging in on whatever “activities” you two plan on doing,” air quoting as he takes a seat at the desk in front.
“Satoru, stop. You don’t even know if that’s gonna happen,” I argue.
“You’ve spent ten years drooling over this man, and you finally get a chance to spend some time with him in his apartment…alone.” he starts. “I don’t know about you, angel, but that sounds like a recipe for sex to me.” He leans back towards the blackboard and places his arms behind his head. A smug look sweeps his face.
“Well, yeah I guess… but it’s more so…” I hesitate, struggling to find the words to say. The thought of Suguru and I being intimate has always crossed my mind, but I can't believe it might actually happen.
“Oh I get it… There’s no reason to be nervous. Sex is sex,” he interjects. “Plus, if he’s the one who initiated the date, I’m sure he’ll enjoy whatever happens, sex or no sex.”
He makes a good point, but I still feel unsure. Before I have the chance to stop myself, I blurt out, “Do you know what he’s into…like when it comes to sex? Do guys even talk about that stuff to each other?” The regret immediately slips through my lips.
Satoru gets up from his seat and brings his hands to my shoulders—a gesture of comfort I’ve never seen from him before. “He’s my best friend, I know everything about him,” he assures me. “Trust me, you’ll be fine.”
“Can you just tell me? Please?” I playfully beg, placing my hands on top of his.
Something about my question changes his demeanor, like he’s been waiting for it all along. The air shifts and suddenly I feel a rush of heat. Satoru drops one of his hands while the other drags across my chest. He begins to circle me, walking slowly, like a lion with its prey. In a situation like this, his towering presence would normally intimidate me, but something this feels different. I'm not feeling fear; instead I feel secure, fascinated, and curious about what lies ahead.
He makes his way behind me and I can feel him lower his head towards mine. “I can tell you…” he whispers, grabbing my waist and pulling me closer. “But do you want me to show you instead?” His words send shivers to my spine. 
He retrieves something from his pocket and places it into my hand. It’s a long piece of fabric, similar to the one he uses to wrap his eyes. My mind spins—stuck between the logic in my head and the cravings of my body. I hesitate for a moment, but the weight of my desire defeats me. “Yes. Please,” I say softly, as I wrap the cloth around my eyes.
“Perfect.” He ties the back securely, and I feel his touch tilt my head toward him.
I let out a breath and part my lips. Our lips touch, locking just for a moment before he briefly pulls away.
“I think for your benefit, and definitely mine, I’m going to keep my limitless on. That way it’s purely informational and you won’t feel a thing,” he says.
And just like that, an invisible barrier forms between us. While his touch is subdued, I still feel the heat hovering between us. The closer I try to get to him, the more I feel his body vibrate against mine—like magnets trying to repel. Damn it, Satoru. He might not feel a thing, but I… I still feel everything.
In my mind, I do my best to recall every part of Suguru from memory. I try seeing his face and emulating his touch. As the pieces of Suguru form, a clear image of him floods my brain.
I can feel his touch as Satoru moves up from my waist and beneath the hem of my shirt. He continues up to cup my breast and I can sense his kisses on my neck. They’re soft and muted, but the sensation still gives me chills. His breath is hot as his mouth works his way up to nibble my ear. I can feel his throat rumble when Satoru continues his lesson, “Do you want to know what Suguru is like?”
I nod. In my mind, Suguru’s dark eyes ease their way shut as he takes in my scent. His strands of hair brush against my shoulder as he continues to plant kisses down my neck.  
“Suguru is a lover—always takes care of his women,” Satoru purrs as he rubs his thumb over my breast. The friction against my nipple sends a jolt of euphoria through my chest. “Do you want to see how he’ll take care of you?” he asks.
My body tenses and I feel a rush of liquid between my thighs. I roll my head back onto his shoulder and hum with pleasure. My breath is labored, I can barely speak. “Show me,” I manage to let out.
“Well to start, he’d make sure your lips never go hungry.” Satoru slowly turns me around while his kisses move to my lips. His lips are soft, smooth as he takes me in.
The intensity rises as his kisses become needy. Using his hands to grip my ass, he leans me on the edge of the desk behind me. Shock fills my body and I can feel his tongue finding its way inside my mouth. Waves of his cursed energy flow through me. It’s powerful—commanding my fingers to lock into his hair. I pull him closer, imagining Suguru's weight crashing into me.
As the ache between my legs intensifies I ask, “What else would he do?”
“He’d work his way up your leg… past your skirt…” he slowly whispers. “And find your clit. Just to make sure she’s happy too.” His fingers travel to my panties, stopping just above my slit. He uses thumb to rub the cloth, and the trembles of his limitless cause me to moan. I roll back and forth, grinding against his hand, desperate for more. My moans are endless and slowly amplify every time the pressure increases.
When he realizes I’m enjoying myself, he runs his fingers along the edge of my panties. I whimper, wondering when he can put an end to this torture. I crave him so badly, I crave the feeling of him inside me—anything to help me find release. He finally gives in and slides my underwear to the side. As his touch grazes against my folds, I picture how good it would feel to have Suguru’s large hands cupping my center.
Satoru picks up on my thoughts and continues feeding my fantasy, “While he teases your pussy, Suguru would tell you that you’re already soaking wet…” The thought has me dripping more liquid onto his fingers. I feel his mouth curl into a smile and he whispers, “...but we’re only getting started.”
His fingers thrust inside me and I can feel the magnitude of his hands as my walls tighten around him. The thrill from his fingers barreling into me stun every inch of my body. I can feel my thighs clenching on the brink of release. His fingers find the sensitive spot within my walls and his mouth claims every spot on my body. His kisses become ravenous, like he can’t get enough. The more he devours me, the more he leaves me breathless.
I can hear him groan in delight and I notice the way his bulge presses against me through his pants. The desperation only makes him harder.
As the intensity grows, I cry for more. “Oh Suguru, just like that.”
“Do you like that, angel?” His pace remains steady as the sensation of cursed energy collects into his fingers. They continue to push against the insides of my center until I can’t take it anymore. The rhythmic motion leaves me breathless and I feel my body racing to its peak.
“Ugh, Suguru, fuck…that feels—”
“Does he make you feel good?” His voice feels heavy, like a low growl.
“Y—, ugh, ye—” I can’t form words through the pounding of his hand. He’s rapidly sending me to the edge and I’m ready to fall. “Suguru, you’re going to make me come.”
“Yes, angel.” Satoru says, before planting his lips onto mine. “Come for him.” 
Those words are enough to break me. The orgasm flows through my body and I feel myself beat around his fingers. His pace slows, but the sensual touch only brings more gratification. The thought of Suguru sending me into ecstasy leaves my body light, and my mind clear. The waves slowly subside and I feel myself resurrect. 
My hands head for the wrap on my eyes, but I hear Satoru whisper, “We’re not done yet, angel.”
I follow his lead and let the rumble of his voice bring me back into my dreams.
“Did you think Suguru would stop there?” he teases. “If there’s anyone he’d take special care of, it would be you.”
I feel his fingers slide out of me and I hear him lick the tips. “You taste so good.”
The words release a flutter in my core. I’m immediately enraptured and can’t help but crave more.
“Suguru would love this,” he starts. “Would you let him taste you too?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
I imagine Suguru’s strength as his hands cup my waist and he lifts me up on the desk. When I lean back, I feel him lift my shirt, exposing my breasts. “You’re so god damn beautiful.” His tongue licks my nipple before fully taking it into his mouth, giving it a playful tug.
“Please, I want you to taste me,” I plead. Liquid gushes out of me, giving him a good dose to start.
“As you wish, angel.” He bends down to hover his mouth over my center. I feel him linger before he adds, “Do you know what else Suguru likes to do?”
“Tell me,” I whisper.
“He likes making sure your pussy never goes dry,” he growls, letting his mouth devour my clit. The vibrations from his limitless amplify the sensation, and I’m on the verge of losing control. 
My body goes numb as his words echo through my head. He likes making sure your pussy never goes dry. I let out a moan, but it feels more like a cry. I completely unravel, feeling the tides of my orgasm come back to shore.
“Oh my god, Suguru. That feels so good. Don’t stop,” I cry.
As he continues to glide over me, I throw my head back and writhe in pleasure. His tongue goes up and down my center in a harmonious rhythm, and I’m so close to feeling ecstasy. His mouth on my lips may have felt needy, but his mouth on my pussy feels absolutely desperate. The ripples of his limitless accompany the motions and bring me to my limit. As he plants his hands on my thighs, I immediately crumble.
I melt into my orgasm as my legs tense up around him, squeezing him towards me. I picture Suguru’s hands gripping my thighs while he moans back in delight. My breath is quick, my heartbeat is unsteady. The muscles inside me contract and pulsate all over his tongue. He has me slick and he licks up every bit of the liquid that trickled from me.
“And that, my little angel… is a little taste of what you can expect from Suguru Geto,” Satoru chuckles.
I relax my legs and I feel one last kiss grace my center. I lay for a moment, feeling both lifeless, yet satiated. The thought of Suguru between my thighs still lingers in my mind.
“That was amazing, Suguru,” I breathed quietly.
As I sit up, my head is in a fog. I feel my brain spin for a moment. What just happened? Did I just have a wet dream about Suguru? Wait, no. Was it Satoru? It takes me a minute to recollect myself. Although I could see Suguru vividly in my mind, I remember that he wasn’t the person in the room. Anxiety surges throughout my body when I’m faced with the reality of what occurred.
I hear the door click, and rush to take off the wrap around my eyes. “Satoru, can we ta—”
To my dismay, there is no one else in the room. I see the blackboard behind me, the desk that seats me, three smaller desks in front of me, but Satoru is nowhere to be found.
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Read Part 2 Here!
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ameenvie · 7 months
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I Think He Knows - Jamie Tartt x fem!Reader
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masterlist | ao3 | ko-fi | fic recs
"his hands around a cold glass makes me wanna know that body like it's mine"
Word count: 4.6k Warnings: nsfw, smut, minors DNI! kind of angry sex, unprotected sex (wouldn't recommend irl), oral(male receiving), fingering, p in v sex, praise kink, dirty talk, slightly dom!Jamie(?), hickeys, possessiveness Tags: smut Prompt/Summary: You go out to get your mind off work and Jamie - but to your surprise he shows up at the same bar as you. Things happen. Put me in horny jail. A/N: This is the first smut I've written in a hot minute, and my first ever Jamie fic, so I just hope it doesn't suck! 😭❤ I still have to get the hang of how to write him. Maybe the intro/non-smut part is a bit too long, but idk I kept rewriting this so much. :') I hope you enjoy nevertheless! ❤❤❤
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It felt like thousands of hammers were beating down onto your head. You were staring at your computer screen, trying to grasp what you were looking at, but the stress, the flickering office lights, and the constant noises of talking made it impossible.
“I need a break” you exclaimed as you promptly stood up from your desk. The conversation next to you came to a halt as Keeley gave you a worried look.
“Are you alright, babe?”
“Sure, I just need a little fresh air” you answered with a sweet smile. Even though Keeley was your boss, she was also one of your best friends, and you were thankful to the universe that you met her.
You were the social media manager at KJPR responsible for the AFC Richmond brand. And as fun and exciting as it was, there were moments when you just wanted to run away and never look back. Such as today.
The team had a new brand partnership deal, and few of the players had to post to their socials about certain products. It was really nothing extraordinary, but it was a big brand so it was crucial that everything was on schedule. Now you were in the reporting phase, and you haven’t received the necessary info from one of the players yet. As you stood outside the office building, leaning against the wall, you picked your phone out of your pocket and dialed him. It rang once, twice… and he hang up on you. You rolled your eyes and cursed under your breath as you headed back to your desk.
“Need any help?” Keeley asked with the sweetest, most concerned voice you’ve ever heard, but you just shook your head.
“Nothing I can’t handle! I’m headed to the dog track if that’s alright. I need to take care of something.”
“Give ‘em hell!” she replied and left you alone.
You jumped into your car and drove over to Nelson Road, where you knew the boys had their training at the moment. The man at the front desk recognized you and let you in, and you headed to Rebecca’s office first to say hello, then went to the stands and took a seat to wait until the team was finished with practice. When Ted noticed you, he gave you that huge moustachy smile of his and waved at you. You mirrored the gesture before your gaze wandered back to the players.
You sat close enough to the pitch to make out his facial expression when he saw you. First, he seemed annoyed, then he gave you the most dramatic eyeroll you’ve ever seen before he ran away laughing.
You weren’t sure what he expected your reaction to be, but you knew you just looked annoyed.
“Whistle! WHISTLE!” You heard coach Kent scream at the players, and you chuckled. The team gathered around the coaches then made a beeline towards the changing room. You knew this was your cue to follow them as well.
You leaned against the wall as you waited for Jamie, hugging your bag. Of course because he was aware that you were waiting for him, he’d be dead last to leave. You weren’t sure if it was against your person or just the fact that he hated to cooperate. Maybe both. A few of the players started to leave and they waved and smiled at you as hey passed.
After what seemed like an eternity, he finally stepped out of the locker room – as you predicted – dead last. He stopped in the doorway with his hands in his pocket.
“I tried to call you.”
“I know” was all he said, and you raised your eyebrows at him. He was so cocky, you kind of wanted to punch him in the face, but that wouldn’t look too good on your resume.
“Alright, I guess you were busy then.”
“Nah, not really” he answered, and you saw a shit-eating grin spread on his face. God, Jamie.
“Look, I hope you don’t think I enjoy this, but I need the results of the campaign, okay? And you can only blame yourself, because you are the one who insisted that nobody can manage your account other than you. It would make all our lives much easier if I could just check the data myself.” You knew you were rambling and maybe talking a little too fast, showing how annoyed you were. You didn’t like giving people the satisfaction of knowing they got under your skin, but Jamie was world class at that.
“A’ight” he mumbled and started searching for his phone, then handed it to you. “If you want to check it so bad, go on, be my guest.”
You swore your eyes shot daggers at him. You grabbed his phone and took a seat on the bench next to you. He followed suit without a word, hands in his pockets.
You unlocked his phone and opened Instagram, but as you were navigating through it you saw a notification pop up from a girl with a text saying: “try me 😘”. Just a tiny glance at her profile picture was enough for you to conclude that she was gorgeous, and you felt your stomach do a flip. Were you… jealous? Of one of Jamie’s flings? C’mon.
You shook your head as if you could shake the thought out of it as you proceeded to check the necessary info. You didn’t realize, but while you were doing this, Jamie’s eyes searched your face like it held the answer to the universe’s biggest question.
You sent yourself a mail from his phone and shoved it back at him. He looked at you with a look you’ve never saw on his face before, and you could swear for a second that it was guilt sitting in his eyes.
“Thanks for nothing” you said as you grabbed your bag and left.
“Nice seeing you too!” he shouted as you slammed the door behind you. Your blood was boiling in your veins as you were walking back to your office. You dropped yourself onto your chair and buried your face in your palms. What a fucking day. He always finds a way to mess with your head. The sounds of Keeley knocking on your door snapped you out of it.
“Come in” you sighed as you looked at her with a defeated expression.
“Jamie again?” she asked sympathetically as she sat down in front of you.
“Always” you scoffed and started fiddling with a pen on your desk. He’s taking the piss out of me, always trying to get under my skin!” Keeley didn’t say anything, she just gave you a knowing look. “Stop looking at me like that, I know what you want to say!”
“I’m not saying anything” she replied and locked her mouth with an imaginary key and threw it away.
“That’s what I thought” you chuckled and took a deep breath. “I’ll be done with this by the end of the day, and then we can open your not-so-secret stash of champagne in your office, what do you say?”
“Sounds perfect, love!” As she left your office you delved into your work and tried not to think of Jamie. It was so silly – you thought. You felt like you were in school, arguing with yourself about your feelings, and having a crush on the guy who pulled on your ponytail. There was no way you were jealous right? Jamie was insufferable in general – cocky, arrogant, full of himself. Hard to work with. Attention seeking. But he had his moments where he was also funny. Caring. Honest. Compassionate. He was an amazing footballer.
You groaned out loud. You were wrapping up your day as you decided you’re going to put an end to this madness. You went home, picked out a nice dress – nothing too fancy, but it still made you feel like a million bucks. You called yourself an uber and asked them to bring you to one of your favourite bars. You were excited to finally grab a few drinks and let your hair down for a night, and maybe even go home with someone handsome to take your mind off your annoying feelings that started to bubble to the surface.
You took a seat at the bar and ordered your favourite drink. The bartender winked at you, and you chuckled. You propped yourself up on your elbow and started to look around. People were mingling, talking, laughing. Some couples were hiding in the more secluded corners of the room, whispering sweet nothings to each other.
You got your order but before you could thank the bartender for it, you heard a voice all too familiar.
“That’s on me. And another one, will ya’?” You turned around to face him as he was smiling down at you. Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes locked with his – you could never exactly pinpoint what colour they were, sometimes they seemed blue, sometimes grey, even green. You felt like you could stare at them forever. This wasn’t happening. You weren’t even sure if you ever saw him out and about like this. Instead of his usual tracksuit or puffy west he was wearing a white button-down shirt, with a few of its buttons unbuttoned, its sleeves rolled up, showing his tattoos. His hair was let loose, and a few strands fell into his eyes. You felt your heart drop into your stomach, and you were so shocked you couldn’t think of a single word to say, like your brain just short-circuited.
“Wow, Jamie, so nice to see you here, what a lovely coincidence! Come, join me for a drink!” he said, grounding you back to earth.
“Very funny. What are you doing here?” The words came out a little more accusatory than you meant, but you couldn’t help yourself. You came here to take your mind off him, and here he was, hotter than ever, standing so close to you that the scent of his cologne made you feel lightheaded. You wished the earth would just open up and swallow you whole.
“Just blowing off some steam. Celebrating my free weekend, I guess.” He shrugged.
“Alone?” Your question seemed to catch him off guard, as he raised his eyebrows. Your answer was just another shrug. “I see, I see, you don’t have to explain yourself to me, I know how this goes.” You waved with your hands in front of you, like you could shoo the image of him with other women out of your brain. You felt like you were going insane. In the meantime, he got his own drink, and he nursed it on the bar top with his left hand, the other in his pocket as he faced you. He looked even more gorgeous than usual, the way the shirt hugged his muscles ignited a flame in your body you never wanted to acknowledge.
“You know you’re being very judgmental now despite the fact, that you are alone as well.”
“I mean, it’s not my DMs that are full of gorgeous woman inviting me to tango” you scoffed, but immediately after you said the words out loud you scolded yourself internally for sounding so pathetic. Fucking hell.
“Are you jealous, love?” He grinned as he took a sip out of his drink. You rolled your eyes and stood up from your seat, but not before you managed to take a peek of how his lips touched the glass as he drank, and how perfect his jawline looked as he tilted his head slightly. FUCK.
“Maybe in your dreams, Tartt.”
“The lady doth protest too much” he laughed. You were quite shocked that Jamie Tartt out of all people would quote Shakespeare to you, but you were too angry to acknowledge that. You shook your head and turned your back on him, trying to get away, anywhere. You walked to the back of the big room and found yourself in a smaller conversation room – it was empty.
You took a deep breath, and you turned on your heels to head for another, more populated spot, but as you opened the door he stood there, one hand leaning against the doorframe, his drink in the other. He seemed like he was thinking.
“Jamie, I swear to God-” You couldn’t finish your sentence because he pushed himself into the room with you. You felt your heartbeat in your throat and heard it drumming loudly in your ears. He was so close. You closed the door behind him, and you only realized what that suggested after you saw his cocky smile. You didn’t immediately leave the room. You stayed there with him. It was painful to admit – even just to yourself -, but you wanted to be there with him.
He stepped closer, practically caging you between the door and his body. You felt your heart racing and your head spin as you looked up at his gorgeous face. Neither of you said anything, you were just searching his face, eyes darting between his gaze and his lips as you weren’t sure what to do. You didn’t realize he was looking at your lips as well, his breath fanning your face. He slowly leaned in; his lips were barely hovering above yours. Your heartbeat went into full overdrive, and you let his lips linger there for a second before you closed the gap and kissed him.
It all seemed to happen so fast you weren’t even sure it was real. You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried one of your hands in his hair as he was locking the door behind you. In any other circumstances he would be fuming about you ruining his hair, but not now. His hands were tracing your body as he pulled you into him – from your back to your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake before they finally settled on your bottom as he pulled you even closer. Your nerves were on fire, and you felt waves of arousal wash over you.
When you broke away to get some air, he wasted no time and started to plant small kisses on your cheek, slowly moving to your throat before settling at the soft spot between your neck and clavicle. You moaned his name which made him smile against your skin. You couldn't help but smile too. Somewhere a tiny voice in the back of your mind scolded you for being so euphoric about this whole situation, but you didn’t care. All you cared about is Jamie’s lips on you and the way his hand sneaked under your dress and drew hot circles on your skin.
“My name never sounded so pretty before” he mused before he pushed the strap of your dress aside to kiss a mark onto your skin just above your breast. Your breath hitched as you tried to make him stop.
“Stop it, people will see” you whined, which just encouraged him even more. You felt the prickling sensation on your skin, you were sure he’s going to leave a mark. When he finished, he adored his masterpiece before planting a soft kiss on the red spot he left behind.
“Maybe I want that, love” he whispered against your ear as he caressed your thighs. “I want everyone to see that you’re my girl.”
The sudden possessiveness caught you off guard and you let out a small whimper. Your common sense was thrown out of the window a while ago and at that moment that was all you wanted as well – everyone to see that you were his girl. He stopped for a second to look into your eyes. He placed his hands on your cheeks and pulled you in for another kiss. You saw stars as he kissed you with the passion of a starved man, his tongue gently caressing your lips before he went all in.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, and in a second, he lifted you by your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his hips which caused one of your shoes to fall off as he started to back towards the sofa. While doing so, he bumped into the small table, knocking his drink over. You both chuckled before he finally sat down, with you straddling him.
Your dress was ridden all the way up your thighs, making your black lace panties visible, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Jamie. His gaze seemed hungry, like he was ready to devour you any second, and you felt the heat creeping up to your ears.
“I see someone was planning on getting laid tonight” he said teasingly.
“Oh, fuck off, Jamie!”
“C’mon love I’m just messing with ya” he smiled at you before he put his hand on the back of your head and pulled you in for another kiss. He was smiling into it, the bastard. In this position you couldn’t help but feel his bulge press against you, which made your blood boil in your veins. You wanted him so bad. You let out a shaky breath as you unconsciously started to grind yourself against his clothed length. Jamie moaned under you, and he furrowed his brows like he was trying to focus on the sensation, nothing else.
You slowly unbuttoned his shirt, leaving kisses on his chest as you progressed, and when you finished you slightly pushed it off his shoulders. You were mad for him, and even though you didn’t want to admit, you wanted nothing more than him fucking you right then and there. Little did you know that Jamie was feeling the same.
He looked at you with those gorgeous puppy eyes and you couldn’t help yourself anymore. You planted open mouthed kisses on his sharp jawline, neck, down his chest. You felt bold all of a sudden, and started to suck a mark onto his neck, which he rewarded with a groan. You took a second to examine the red mark you left on his skin before you licked it softly to ease the pain left in its wake. Jamie was a moaning mess under you, bucking his hips into you involuntarily, his hands gripping your thighs for dear life. You felt bold, wanted, sexy. Like a million bucks.
“Jamie, I want you to fuck me” you whispered into his ear, and you thought his soul left his body in that second.
“Fucking hell, angel” he answered and instantly one of his hands was in your hair, pulling you into another kiss, his other hand pushing your dress higher on your body, until your whole ass was exposed. “Such a greedy lil’ thing, aren’t ya?”
He looked at your dampened underwear as he hovered his finger over it, then swiped one big stroke from your entrance to your clit through the damp fabric. You shut your eyes and threw your head back from the sensation. Finally feeling his touch on you was like heaven. The flames of need were eating away at your body, and you weren’t sure how long you can stand the teasing.
“Please, Jamie”
“You’re fucking cute when you beg” he said, a cocky grin on his face, but before you could say anything, he hooked one of his fingers into your panties, and pulled them aside, exposing you completely. You felt flustered, your confidence wavered. He didn’t leave you time to overthink, because he pushed one of his fingers into you without any difficulty. You let out a moan which he mirrored before he spoke. “Shit, all this for me? I don’t deserve you.”
“You’re damn right you don’t” you chuckled as he started to pump his finger into you, before quickly adding another one. He smiled at you as you rested your forehead against his, slowly riding on his fingers. With his free hand he managed to pull down the strap of your dress enough to free your breast and he started to kiss and nib on your sensitive skin, leaving another hickey just above your nipple.
You hissed at the sensation and bucked your hip a bit harder, making him press into you deeper. Jamie’s fingers felt like they were made for you, and he damn well knew how to use them. As you started to ride him a bit harder, he started to curl his fingers inside you to press against your sweet spot and started circling his thumb against your clit with just the right amount of pressure, it made you see stars. You were a moaning, whimpering mess as his fingers fucked you senseless, pushing deeper and deeper with every movement.
“I know, love” he whispered between kisses. You bit down on his lower lip before you tongues started to dance around each other, and he moved his free hand to cradle your breast and caress your hardened nipple. It was all too much – his lips on yours, his hand on your tit and his fingers fucking you like there was no tomorrow.
You felt tension build in your body, your nerves wind up, ready to be released any second. You started riding his fingers harder and faster, chasing that high you felt was so close.
“C’mon angel, come for me, that’s it. That’s my good girl” he whispered against your lips, and just after a few more pumps of his fingers you came crashing hard with Jamie’s name falling from your lips like a prayer, your veins filled with fire as your vision turned white.
He wrapped you in his arms and started to draw circles on your bare back as you came down from your high while he placed small kisses into the crook of your neck and on your temple. After a minute of collecting yourself, you sat up and kissed him again as you started to undo his belt. You definitely weren’t unaware of the huge bulge in his pants, and you wanted to ease his suffering.
He just watched you do it, with one of his arms spread across the back of the sofa. He looked mesmerized by how beautiful you were. After you finished with his belt you undid the buttons of his slacks and pulled them down with his underwear. He just watched you and you could swear he was holding his breath.
You bit your lip as you took the view in, before you started slowly stroking his hard member. He threw his head back and he moved his hand to caress your cheek. You continued to slowly jerk him off, but you couldn’t help yourself. You licked the tip of his dick, and you made it a show. It was slow, sensual, and you looked at him for the whole time. When he caught your eyes he let out a shaky breath and involuntarily bucked his hips towards your face.
You swiped your tongue against his shaft before you took him fully into your mouth and started bobbing your head. His hand moved to tangle in your hair as he guided your rhythm slowly. He moaned under your touch, loving the way your lips felt around him. You started to pick up your pace a little and he rolled his hips against your face. His hand started to push you deeper onto his cock, and the feeling of his length in your throat made your eyes swell up, and you moaned around him.
“C’mon love” he said and guided you away from him, back onto his lap. You straddled him again, his now bare dick pressed against your wet pussy, and you saw stars from the sensation. “Maybe next time we’ll finish that, yeah? But now I want all of you” he said as he aligned himself to your entrance.
Next time was all you heard in your head. You leaned down to kiss him before you slowly lowered yourself onto him. You relished in the sensation of his cock filling and stretching you inch by inch, it was delicious. Jamie’s lips parted slightly as he threw his head back, enjoying the moment just as much as you did. As he bottomed out, you kept still for a second, barely moving before starting to roll your hips, slowly lifting yourself before coming down again.
“Jamie” you whined, and you held onto his shoulders for dear life as you rode him. His fingers dug into your skin at your hips where he held you. You moved so perfectly in sync it was like you were made for each other, the way he rolled his hips into you made you see stars.
“So good for me, love. Taking me so well, my good girl” he whispered against your lips after he sat up, wrapped you into a tight hug and kissed you. He swiped his tongue against your swollen lips, and you bit down on his. You dug your fingers into his hair as you started moving faster and faster, getting overwhelmed by the sensation.
Jamie moved his hand from your hair to your cheek, swiping your lips with his thumb before pushing it into your mouth. You licked it slowly before he pulled it away and moved it to your swollen clit. You gasped at the perfect feeling of his finger being on you again, before he started to circle his thumb around the sensitive bud. You felt your walls tighten around him, which ripped a moan from his lungs. He never stopped his movements, he fucked into you like he never wanted anything else.
“Taking me so well, babe. So tight for me” he whispered against your burning skin. His words poisoned your mind, and they ran through your veins, igniting everything inside you. You buried your head into his shoulder as you felt your climax approaching. He was filling you up so perfectly, his dick hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. He was gripping your thigh so hard you wondered if it’s going to leave a mark. You kind of hoped it would. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, and his name fell from your lips like a prayer.
“Jamie, I-“ you gasped and you dug your nails into his shoulders.
“That’s it, angel. Come for me” he moaned against your ear and you knew he held himself back. You rolled your hips against him once, twice, all your nerves wind up before they inevitably snapped, and another orgasm washed over you. You moaned into Jamie’s mouth – your vision went white, your muscles clenched around him as you came, which gave him what he needed to reach his own high as well, hugging you tightly onto him. The silence in the room felt deafening all of a sudden. You nuzzled your face into the crook of Jamie’s neck, and he started to slowly caress your hair as he hugged you close.
After your nerves calmed down a bit you started to collect yourself and he helped you to clean up the mess. He took your hand and kissed you, before looking into your eyes.
“So… do you want to get out of here?” His grin was the widest you’ve ever seen and you laughed.
“Yeah, sure” you chuckled as he wrapped his arm around you.
***
The next morning you woke up to your phone ringing. It was Keeley.
“Yeah?” you asked in a sleepy voice, looking over at Jamie who was laying next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist. You were in his bed. He was already awake, looking at you with a sheepish smile.
“So, I know you don’t want to talk about this” Keeley started, her energy through the roof, she spoke so fast you barely had time to acknowledge her words, “but I think you should talk to Jamie. You should tell him you’re into him!” A very telling laugh found its way past your lips before you spoke and you heard an audible gasp on the other side of the line.
“I think he knows” you said to Keeley while looking at Jamie, who was now chuckling next to you as he kissed your free hand.
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gilbirda · 3 months
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Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 23
BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz
[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]
Based on this post
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“Sorry about that,” Jazz was as chirpy and radiant as she usually was when she found them in the breakfast room. “Danny’s extra cranky. Probably haven't slept in a few weeks.”
“Everything okay?” Bruce had to ask.
Jazz's smile was bright as she sat down next to Jason, who was finishing his toast. “Yeah! I feel better than ever!”
Right. The vials.
“I meant your brother.” Bruce’s eyebrow twitched with the thousand questions he surely wanted to ask.
Jazz looked up from where she was reaching for the toast and some strawberry jam. “Yeah? He’s sleeping. He’ll be fine.”
Dick chuckled and leaned in. “What Bruce meant to say,” he side eyed his father, who breathed in relief and continued drinking his coffee, “is what was that about? Things seemed pretty heated between Danny and you.”
Jason gave him a warning look, but otherwise didn’t react.
On the other hand, Jazz snorted. “Ghosts’ love language is fighting.” She shook her head. “He wouldn’t actually hurt me.”
Jason’s eyebrows went to his hairline, and very wisely chose to bite back a few questions. Also Jazz’s personality was slowly starting to make sense. He was sure that once he knew everything he wouldn’t need to feel this confused.
“Could have fooled me.” Dick commented instead. “Danny really didn't like Jason.”
“He didn’t—” Jazz tensed. She finished chewing and forced her shoulders to relax. “Is not that— I mean. I think Danny will like him, it’s just—”
“Is this about your exes?” Her boyfriend asked softly, reaching for an apple and putting it on her plate. She quietly thanked him.
“Yes and no. I…” she blushed, “I don’t have the best track record.”
Bruce cleared his throat. “Did you— Uh.” He realized too late he could sound like he was interrogating her. “I apologize, but I need to ask. The report Danny mentioned—?”
“Yeah. That.” With a tired sigh, Jazz put her knife down. “David. He… Well.”
“That’s the one that cheated on you, right?”
She nodded at Jason. “I found out I was actually a side piece. It wasn’t fun.” She scrunched her nose.
“What happened?”
“Dick.” Jason warned.
“No, no. It’s okay. I took care of it.”
“Dislocated shoulder and shattered hand?” Cass spoke for the first time.
Jazz sighed again. “The dislocated shoulder was because he didn’t understand the meaning of the word ‘no’.” She made a face. “And the hand was because I didn’t realize how… soft humans actually are.”
At this point? They were getting used to Jazz — and her brother — being a different category in their heads. For Dick it was like the slight adjustment he had to make when he was with the Titans. He had been the only human, fully human, of the group and he had to get used to his best friends and then girlfriend making these types of comments regularly.
“I found out…” Jazz continued with a distant look in her eyes, “I found out because I came back to the living world sooner than I expected and decided to check out my favorite coffee place and he was there with another woman. I thought — ‘well, I’m not around much and I’m also not the most exciting person, of course I got cheated on’ but the more I listened the less it made sense.”
“You are not boring.” Jason scoffed, frowning a little at the self deprecating behavior and the story. How could that idiot not see what he had in front of him?
“Thanks,” her smile was small, but sincere, “but the story doesn’t end there.” She leaned in, her eyes narrowing as her smile twitched a little. “Things didn’t quite add up and I quickly realized it was me who was the ‘other woman’ and this poor person didn’t know. And him? He was abusing her.”
“What?”
Jazz nodded at Dick. “I followed them, listening in, trying to see any sign that he was not the same person he was with me that he was with her. Claudia — that’s her name — showed textbook behavior of abuse and I had to make sure.” She sighed, leaning back on her seat, looking tired. “Long story short I caught him threatening her and taking her phone and I decided to act. Waited until she was home safe and had a chat with David and told him very nicely that he shouldn’t do that and yes, I may have accidentally sent him to the hospital.”
She went back to her breakfast, choosing to take a bite of her toast and chew for a few moments.
“Claudia took the chance while he was recovering and broke up with him, moved apartments and found the help she needed. I would have preferred she reported him, but I can’t force her and if that was enough for her then it’s fine by me.” She shrugged. “I had to go back to the Realms shortly after so I couldn’t stay to check further, and then things got complicated and I just came back for college stuff and even then I had to be quick.”
Bruce took a sip of his coffee to hide the tiny smile.
Jazz was not a hero or a vigilante, but he could see why she fit in the family so much, and more importantly, why his son liked her so much.
“What happened to the guy?”
Jazz chuckled at Duke’s question. “As much as I'd like to report some type of karmic punishment, last time I saw him he was still frequenting the same coffee place. But he was alone. His hand was healed, though. I didn’t stay longer to check more. I couldn’t.” Her little frown and tense shoulders told them not to pry.
Conversation continued as they finished breakfast, mostly questions about her brother and what they saw almost go down in the kitchen. Jazz was very open about what she could tell, and shared a few stories about Danny and his “bad taste in women”. They noticed how earlier stories about Danny’s powers and Team Phantom adventures were easy for her to tell; but later ones, from about the time Danny graduated highschool, became a stream of “ummm”s and “uhhh”s and “and etcetera” that she used to dance around the truth.
Jason almost felt guilty for contributing to the general subtle questioning, but Jazz was happy enough to share stories and she even acknowledged that she was happy to share the whole thing at a later time.
Soon the timeline that Barbara had roughly put together was filled with tidbits of information — all those blank spots she found were the times the siblings (and their friends) were back in the Infinite Realms. Doing what exactly? That was the final piece of the puzzle.
She talked about training, about classes, about Frighty and Frostbite and Clockwork and a plethora of ghosts as if they were supposed to know who they were — classic Jazz — and with context they quickly understood that the names she repeated the most were some kind of guides or teachers on this mysterious part of her life.
It wasn't difficult to put together that Jazz, Danny and this… “Team Phantom” were somehow related to the High King of the Infinite Realms.
That still left a bunch of questions, like what were their exact roles, who was the king and what were her parents doing during those periods of time. They didn’t broach the subject but they knew from Babs’ research that they were working for the GIW, a sketchy organization that wanted them eliminated, during those times they were in the Infinite Realms.
If they knew about all of this, why haven’t they done something already? If their guesses were correct, they’ve been fighting and training for a bit less than a decade. It didn’t make sense that they had this kind of power, this kind of backup, and haven’t tried to bring down the GIW yet.
Or contacted the Justice League. Sure, they were angry and disappointed that the heroes never came to help, but Jazz insisted they had the situation back at her hometown under control. Technically, they could now ask for that support.
Glancing at Bruce and his calculating eyes, Jason decided he didn’t blame her for not reaching out. And he wasn’t sure what she would do after how bad Bruce had treated her.
“Oh Ancients,” Jazz jumped and put her orange juice back on the table. She glanced at Dick. “The class. Today. I forgot.”
The man chuckled. “I already called and said that I wouldn’t be able to attend today. The show you and your brother put on in the kitchen told me today was going to be interesting enough.”
She blushed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. They are already used to me canceling at the last minute. Just Vigilante Things.” He winked.
“Don’t I know it.” A new voice answered from the door. Danny walked in dragging his feet, hair sticking outwards in every direction and eyes narrowed. “Good morning.”
“Hey you.” Jazz turned in her seat. “You look awful.”
“Is my natural charm.” Danny yawned and sat next to his sister. “Hi all. My name is Danny. Can I eat some food?”
Some at the table chuckled at his words. Bruce nodded, amused, and abandoned all pretense that he wasn’t analyzing the siblings.
“Slept okay?” He asked.
“Better than I have in weeks.” Danny shrugged, making quick work of what was left on the table. He wasn’t picky, and he didn’t complain about the food being cold. “Mostly because I haven’t slept in weeks more than a few naps under my desk.”
“I told you—”
“I know.” He cut off his sister. “I know. I just never find the time.”
Jazz looked like she wanted to argue but chose to let it go and helped Danny assemble the worst breakfast combination in the world. The rest watched in horror and fascination as the young man devoured everything at a fast pace, not caring about chewing or tasting the food.
Once he swallowed, he continued talking. “We have been using the system — you know, the one you created?” He rolled his eyes when Jazz smiled, pleased. “It has been working fine. It’s just,” he sighed, “after you left everything kept piling up. I didn’t know how much work you did — how much reading I would do.” Danny rubbed his face in despair.
“And that’s why Tucker was my back up for the—”
“And he has been doing a great job but I made the mistake of offering my help, you know, I thought ‘oh, I have some free time! I can help my loved ones’ — that was my first mistake.”
“Thinking?” Jazz arched an eyebrow, her smile mocking.
Danny didn’t find it amusing, but quiet and barely contained chuckles around the table disagreed with him.
“Now seriously, do you need me to come back?” She asked, pointedly ignoring the stares, especially her boyfriend’s.
Danny’s eyes opened wide. “No! No, please. You stay where you are.” He gestured widely with his hands. “We got this. You— You enjoy your vacation.”
Vacation? Jazz said she was in Arkham to learn skills for her work in the Realms.
“I told you I’m not—”
“Yes. You are. Vacation.” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her a little. “Stop worrying. We got this.”
“Good luck with getting her to relax.”
“Hey!” Jazz turned towards her boyfriend. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side?”
“And I am. On the side where you stop worrying.”
Danny finally smiled. “You are not that bad, Mr Boyfriend.”
“Jason.”
Danny’s smiles grew with mischief, and didn’t say anything else. Jazz sighed.
“Please behave.”
“I always do.”
“You know as well as I do that that’s a lie.” She narrowed her eyes at her brother. “I thought we agreed you’d behave when you visit.”
“Still thinking you are capable of ‘being normal’?” He did the air quotes and everything. “Jazz, I love you, but you know that—”
“I know.” She looked down at her hands on her lap. “Believe me I know.”
Something clicked in Danny’s mind, because his teasing smile melted from his face the moment her words were out of her mouth.
He glanced at Jason, who tensed at the look, and went back to his sister. “What happened?”
Everyone noticed the switch in the siblings. Danny’s tense shoulders and alert eyes immediately going around the room looking for something. He didn’t know the details but he knew something was up with Jasmine.
“The situation has changed.” She started, still looking down. “I… The—I mean, I will take care of it, I always do, but we need to talk.”
Jason didn’t miss Danny’s dangerous glint in his eye when he looked at him again. Or the green glow in the blue irises.
“You said so in your text.” He nodded. “So this isn’t just about Mr Muscles over there?”
Jazz's soft chuckle was almost able to break the tension in the room. Cass, Duke and Dick stopped breathing, knowing this was it. Damian, who had been ignoring everyone and had been texting John the whole time, finally put his phone down. Bruce and Jason shared a look. This was it.
“How about we move this important conversation to the drawing room? I feel like you will be more comfortable there.” Alfred as always knew when to walk in, and started picking up the dirty dishes without waiting for a reply.
With a few murmurs in agreement, the whole group stood up and moved towards the room they’d been in the previous night. The arrangement was similar, with Bruce in the loveseat and the siblings cramming themselves in the opposite couch to the one where Jason, Jazz and Danny sat down.
Jazz was holding on to her boyfriend’s hand for dear life, trying to calm down. She appreciated his words of encouragement as they walked with the group, and held her head high by the time she faced her brother again.
“Jason, and his family, they… they know.”
Danny lifted an eyebrow. “I have noticed.” He crossed his arms. “After this morning, I’d expect a few screams in horror, but nobody has reported us to the police yet, so…”
“No, no. Danny, they know.”
It took a moment for her words to settle in, but when they did he bared his teeth and stood up. “WHAT?” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What the hell, Jazz? It’s been what, a few months? And this guy,” he pointed at Jason, who didn’t, couldn't, look at him, “makes cute eyes at you so you spill MY secrets?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Oh yeah?” He threw his hands up. “Enlighten me. Tell me how it was, because I was mostly joking when I said you have terrible taste, but—”
“It wasn’t like that.” She growled, bristling. “Things happened and I really need you to trust me for this one.”
“Trust you?” Danny asked, incredulous. “Are you seriously asking me to trust you right now?”
She straightened her back. “Yes I am. When have I led you astray?”
Danny scoffed. “You want the list alphabetical?”
“Danny.”
The siblings glared at each other, face expressions and eyes telling more than what words could tell. Danny was furious but cautious, and the fact that he hadn’t ran away yet was taken as a good sign. Jazz was hurt and pleading, but firm even when both their eyes started turning green.
Bruce wanted to shrink into his seat in shame, but he couldn’t. He did this. Jazz was forced against her will to reveal information so he wouldn’t march her into the Justice League and trial her for crimes he thought she committed. And now she had the chance to pay back, to rightfully blame him and tell her brother how he kidnapped her and hurt her, and she wasn’t saying anything.
“Okay.” Danny finally said. “Okay,” he sighed, “when we are back home you bet your ass you are explaining.”
“Everything will make sense in time.”
“You are starting to talk like Clockwork.”
This made her smirk. “Good. It keeps you on your toes.”
Danny made a mocking face to his sister and turned to look at the others watching.
“I guess there’s nothing to lose.”
There was a flash of bright light and instead of the tired and burned out younger Fenton sibling, they saw a floating glowing figure dressed in black and white. It was still Danny, but hair was white and eyes were green; and all the ghostly physical traits they saw in the siblings — fangs, claws, pointed ears — were exaggerated in this form.
“My name is Danny Phantom. The one and only hero of Amity Park—” Jazz cleared her throat, “I mean,” he glared at her and crossed his legs in the air, still floating, “I am the only undead hero of Amity Park. I have helpers.”
“Very funny.” Jazz said. She turned towards Bruce, Jason and the others. “Guys, this is my brother. Danny, these are the Waynes. Jason’s family.”
Danny’s eyebrows arched. “You are Bruce Wayne?” The way he asked had zero amount of awe. He was familiar with the name and not in a good way.
“You know who I am?”
“Sam — my girlfriend — knows who you are. She’s been to a few of your fancy-schmancy galas. She said she hated every second of it.”
The older man found it funny. “They tend to be mind numbingly boring.”
“Hey Danny,” Jazz’s voice was careful, “is this place safe?”
This made the young man tense and unfold his legs, all playfulness gone. “What do you mean?”
“I— I did my own check, but I’d feel better if you did one too. I wouldn’t like for, hm, Vlad to—”
“Vlad is involved in this?” Nobody missed the growl in his chest.
“All will make sense, I promise.” Jazz pleaded, lifting her hands in a placating manner.
Jason glanced at Bruce. They knew Vlad Master was bad news, but this confirmed it.
“Okay. Trusting you. Whatever.” Danny breathed slowly and disappeared.
Immediately, Jazz explained: “He’s doing a sweep of the haunt.” Determined, she looked at Bruce and then at Jason. “Will it be okay if I tell him about you guys?”
Bruce looked conflicted for a second, but Jason didn’t hesitate. “Go ahead.” He glared at Bruce as if daring him to say otherwise. “We owe you at least that.”
By the time Danny was back Bruce had come to terms that he had to start being okay with a bunch of things really quick if he wanted his answers. Glancing at Jasmine and how her worried frown never left her, he considered it wasn’t that bad of a step towards properly apologizing to her. She had said a few days ago that his apology at Jason’s apartment wasn’t enough. He was starting to understand the dimensions of the situation he caused.
“Okay. Place is clean. There’s a lot of dead relatives but that’s expected from a haunt like this one.”
Bruce wanted so badly to ask him to elaborate on that. But kept his mouth shut.
“Alright.” Jazz breathed in slowly. “Danny,” she started, “remember you are trusting me, ok?”
“You are scaring me.” He tried to joke, but his sister didn’t even smile.
“Could you please show them the… the other thing?”
“What other—” realization dawned on him. “Jazz, you didn’t—!”
“I haven’t!”
“Then why—?”
“I asked you if this was safe, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then listen to me,” she insisted, standing up to approach her brother. “Trust me. Show them.” She took his hands in hers, the contrast of both the alive and dead sibling blurring the longer Jazz stood there. It was like their auras became visible and pulsed together, a low hum barely perceptible rumbling in the room. “Trust me.”
The rumbling stopped when their hands stopped touching. Danny floated back and let his body lower until his feet touched the floor. He threw a worried look at Jazz and nodded, all aggressiveness dissipating and leaving a vulnerable expression on his face.
He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t have to. Gasps and one yelp in surprise filled the silence when green flames engulfed his body, from the bottom of his feet to the last strand of hair, and in its path, it revealed the same undead creature but not quite the same young man.
Danny looked like a completely different person with the dark metal armor over the suit. He looked taller, and bigger, and his presence commanded attention even if he wasn’t saying anything. He wore a cape dark as night, with millions of stars glowing on the inside, and that floated as if some kind of invisible breeze had entered the room.
The most impressive thing, though, was the black crown over his head. It floated a few inches over his hair, and the flames of his transformation seemed to concentrate in the mysterious metal, flowing and pulsating like a heartbeat.
“I am…” Even his voice sounded different. Heavier. He glanced at Jazz, who nodded. “I am Daniel James Phantom, the High King of the Infinite Realms.”
In the following moments, the Waynes felt like they were living in some kind of surrealistic alternate dimension. It was the moment at the maximum height of a jump, right before gravity did its thing and violently pulled you back down to Earth. Watching Danny, who just a few hours before had crashed into the house and looked more roadkill than person, was floating now in the middle of their drawing room wearing a full armor, a burning crown and a heavy presence that rivaled Batman on a bad day.
Dick broke the moment, acting like the gravity he loved to defy, and hollered a laugh coming from deep in his chest. “Eat shit, Stephanie!”
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morningberriesao3 · 3 months
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As Sneaky Link comes to an end, it just means that I’ll get to work on some other fun projects that have been in my drafts for (literally) a year and a half.
The next multi chapter I’m working on is set back in the 80s. Only this time, it’s not Steve who spirals about his sexuality.
Eddie is straight—he’s just never met the right girl to feel that spark. But Steve over the last years has had a secret that he’s told no one. Not even Robin.
Until Eddie walks in on him in a very compromising position. With another man.
I started this fic as something we hardly see in the Steddie fandom—and that’s Steve being the certified queer, and Eddie having a full blown crisis as he figures himself out.
As promised, below the cut is the first 2.4K words of chapter 1, and in February it’ll be posted in its entirety on my ao3: morningberries
Enjoy 🥹
It was a chilly day in early September—the wind carrying half-brown leaves through the air in swirling patterns that looked like mini tornados. Eddie stared at them from his trailer’s living room window as Wayne’s truck disappeared beyond the bend in the road.
Another weekend alone as his uncle worked a double shift.
It’s not that Eddie didn’t have friends. There was Gareth and Jeff and Grant—the members from his beloved band Corroded Coffin—but he knew Jeff was on vacation with his parents before college started and Grant was working with his dad in the garage on that ’69 Mustang they picked up from the scrapyard over the summer. Gareth, although in Hawkins, had landed himself a hot new girlfriend and spent every waking moment with her.
Eddie couldn’t really blame him, even though he didn’t really get it.
It had been the same thing his whole life, if he was being honest with himself. Since middle school, he’d watch his friends start dating whatever chick they had a crush on, listen to them start yammering about how gorgeous she was or how cool or how smart. How she made them get butterflies in their stomachs, whatever the fuck that meant.
Yeah, cool.
Eddie had dated girls—some pretty cute ones at that. There was Sam, who he dated his second senior year, and they’d gotten along really well. She was what Eddie thought should probably be his type—dark hair, a lip ring, wore lipstick in blacks and unearthly blues. She was even in Hellfire Club and honestly kicked ass at it. Objectively, on paper, she was everything he wanted.
Except he didn’t feel it. Whatever it was. The fucking butterflies, or whatever.
When they broke up, it hadn’t really been the end of the world. He mourned their friendship more than the sexual aspect of their relationship, because Sam had been awesome to hang out with and smoke with and laugh with.
Gareth hadn’t believed Eddie when he said he was fine—took a solid 4 months before Gare actually accepted that Eddie’s heart wasn’t shattered.
Eddie cared more about… God, like, anything but dating. Like D&D, and his friends, and his guitar, and Metallica’s newest album, and making his fucking bed in the morning, and even his therapist. He knew it didn’t really help him look normal to be a twenty-year-old man who couldn’t care less about pursuing girls, but whatever. He was King Freak, after all.
When he met Chrissy six months ago, he thought for a moment that he might be able to convince himself to have a crush on her. It should be easy; a small, thin, blonde, pretty cheerleader is everyone’s type. Maybe he’d just been chasing after the wrong girls. But what he felt on the drive to his trailer with Chrissy in his front seat, as she timidly told him she thought he was kind and funny, was, again… not the fireworks he expected from all the stories of love at first sight.
And then she’d died, which vastly overshadowed Eddie’s worry that there might be something wrong with him for not developing feelings. He talked about both things in his weekly government mandated therapy sessions. But mostly about her death.
The doctor had told Eddie it wasn’t uncommon to have an aversion to romantic or sexual relationships after experiencing trauma. Eddie didn’t really bother to elaborate that it had started long before said trauma. But whatever.
He digressed.
Gareth had a girlfriend, and they spent their time making out and—apparently now—doing hands and mouth stuff. At least, that’s what Gareth had been bragging about at their last band practice. And, according to him, they were probably going to fuck on this weekend that Eddie was once again alone, so calling Gareth was completely off the table.
He sighed, standing from his uncle’s withered brown couch to walk the ten steps to his bedroom. He plucked his guitar from her hook on the wall, strummed a few chords without bothering to plug her in. If he was really going to talk about trauma responses and aversions, he might as well start with the one he developed for playing his guitar after the epic battle in the Upside Down.
Since the day he nearly bled out on the gravel outside of his trailer (that wasn’t really his trailer, because apparently alternate dimensions are, like, actually a thing), he hadn’t really been able to play anymore. It wasn’t some dramatic thing, like getting wild flashbacks of battling massive fucking hell-bats, or getting feasted on by their fang-filled mouths, or Dustin crying over him, or what if felt like when he literally died for four minutes before he was defibrillated. It was just this soft, but uncomfortable, feeling in his stomach, accompanied by massive brain fog, and a general lack of motivation to learn anything new.
He hung the guitar back where it belonged, in front of his mirror. The reflection that looked back at him looked… well, goddamn bored, for one. And a little anxious. And like he should probably try to reach out to some of his other friends.
There had been some silver linings to the whole everything-he’s-ever-known-about-the-world-has-been-a-lie thing. He did, now, have other friends. Dustin, for one, would hang out with him on days that weren’t D&D related. Although, Eddie was sure that a lot of that was because he had a working vehicle that could tow him around to the arcade, or the diner (where Eddie paid for Dustin’s meals, obviously), or the video store.
Eddie didn’t mind crashing Family Video, because more often than not, it meant he could visit his new age-appropriate friend.
Robin and Eddie had become attached at the hip, honestly. Best friends. Trauma bonded, or something. Or maybe it had more to do with the fact that they were both losers, and somehow both smart and dumb at the same time. They also both talked a lot, and got excited over weird shit, and liked to rag on Dustin. So Eddie really took a liking to Robin.
And here was something that he’d been thinking about for the last few weeks.
Maybe he had a crush on her? It didn’t really sound right, but he did get excited when he got to see her, and his heartrate sometimes sped up when he went to family video and he first laid eyes on her talking to Steve, and maybe there was also a tinge of jealousy that settled in the pit of his stomach when he thought of how close they were. That had to mean something—meant something more than anything else he’d ever felt before.
He knew if Steve and Robin were going to get together, it more than likely would have already happened. But the thought still nagged on him a bit. He wouldn’t like it, and he couldn’t really put his finger on why. Having a crush on Robin was the only feasible explanation, really.
It was either that, or perhaps it was because Eddie was convinced that Steve hated him for some unknown reason.
Eddie tried to become friends with Steve during the aftermath of the Upside Down, and for a while it seemed like it was working. It seemed like Steve actually enjoyed Eddie’s company.
They’d hang out first with Rob, or Dustin. And then just by themselves. Steve even came to smoke up at the trailer once or twice, ended up crashing on Eddie’s couch. Steve used to smile at him, and nudge him in the shoulders like they were sharing some inside joke, or sling his arm around Eddie casually like they’d known each other for ages.
It always made Eddie feel like he was buzzing, like there was some sort of weight in his chest that spasmed and choked him. His therapist had said that it was probably some sort of satiation for his inner child, finally being accepted by someone who was deemed popular. Eddie hadn’t ever thought he cared about shit like that, but the subconscious was a mysterious place, he was coming to learn. Definitely explained the attachment he felt for Steve those first few months out of the hospital; the absolute giddiness he felt when they got to hang out.
But that was at the beginning. The start of July was when Eddie noticed Steve acting different towards him. Avoiding touch, and then eye contact, and then Eddie’s calls, and finally, just Eddie altogether.
The pit Eddie had felt in his stomach from losing Steve’s affection had been awful. He really thought they were becoming close, really thought it was the start of something. A really great friendship.
But Steve peaced out as quickly as he bonded with Eddie, apparently deciding now that they were back in the real world, they couldn’t really mingle anymore.
The bond they formed in the Upside Down was acceptable when they were actively monster hunting, but Eddie supposed now that things had somewhat calmed, reality started to crash into focus. Steve was still a jock; Eddie was still a freak. Therefore, no more sitting across from each other at Benny’s Diner.
That was Eddie’s theory, at least. When he’d ask Robin about it, she’d just shrugged her shoulders and said, “He hasn’t spoken badly about you. Like, at all. Seems like he likes you to me.”
Then, as if to prove his point, Steve would go all red when Eddie would stop by his work and go hide in the back room until the kids picked whatever Sci-Fi movie and piled back in Eddie’s van.
Whatever. It didn’t matter.
Eddie survived sans Steve before the Upside Down, he’d survive without him now.
He picked up the phone and dialed Robin’s number.
“Hello?”
“Rob,” Eddie greeted, a smile already forming on his face from hearing her raspy voice. “What are you up to?”
He could hear a snort from the other end of the line. He knew she was rolling her eyes. “On a Friday afternoon at five PM? Absolutely nothing, of course.”
“Is that sarcasm?”
“Did it sound like sarcasm?”
“I’ll be honest with you,” he said, tucking the phone against his shoulder as he poured himself a mug of old drip coffee from this morning, “it very much did.”
“You’re getting better at social cues!” she mockingly praised.
“Watch it, Bucky. Don’t get too comfortable hiding behind that phone.”
“You’ll forget before the next time we see each other. I’m not too worried.”
Eddie sighed for what felt like the hundredth time since his uncle left the trailer. “Does that mean you can’t hang?”
The line crackled as Robin moved through her living room. Eddie could imagine her flopping on the couch, getting comfortable, her green phone glued to her ear with a big bowl of popcorn settled in her lap. “Noooott necessarily,” she drawled out. “Although, I know you’re not exactly fond of parties.”
Eddie furrowed his brow as he slid his mug onto the new microwave’s glass plate. He’d gotten it for Wayne’s birthday with some of the hush money the government had… well, hushed him with. Eddie had promised to keep his lips sealed when they flashed him the size of the cheque. Not like he had many people to tell, anyway.
“You’re going to a party?”
“Yeah,” she said, sounding surprised. “Steve’s party? For his twentieth?”
Eddie’s stomach dropped. “Steve’s having a party for his birthday?”
As far as he’d known, Steve said he was doing a quiet thing with his parents and his aunt that he didn’t even want to attend, and that was that. He’d just shrugged when Eddie pressed about celebrating with his friends, muttering something about it feeling weird to celebrate after everything that went down earlier in the year.
Which had been fair enough.
But now it was abundantly clear that Steve had been lying to Eddie. To keep him away.
“Uh, of course he is, Doofus. He told me you said you couldn’t come?”
Eddie, for some wild reason, felt his eyes pricking with tears. Out of anger or betrayal or confusion, he wasn’t really sure. It was dumb; he was tough, and he didn’t cry when jocks hated him ever before. So he swallowed them back down.
“Guess my plans changed,” he said, venom seeping into his tone. Fuck Steve and his master plan to keep Eddie from attending his dumb house party. “I’m coming.”
It seemed that Robin was totally oblivious to his anger as she squealed excitedly from the other end of the line. “Yay! Will you come pick me up then? It would be so much cooler to show up with a friend than have my mom drop me off in front of all the former popular kids of Hawkins High.”
“Why do you care about that shit?” Eddie asked, even though he knew it was hypocritical of him.
“Look, I know you’re totally unaffected by the social hierarchy, Eddie, but I’m unashamed to admit that it’ll feel kind of amazing to debut myself as Steve’s best friend, you know? And I’d rather do it in your shitty van than have my mother yelling that she loves me from the open window of her Honda Civic.”
“Don’t call ol’ Heffer shitty,” Eddie sulked. “It’s not good to bite the hand that feeds you. Or something like that.”
Eddie ignored that it didn’t feel great when Robin said she was Steve’s best friend. That heavy shadow of jealousy weighed down on him. He was unclear whether it was because he was jealous of Steve or Robin.
“Whatever,” Robin said, her voice laced with yet another eyeroll. “Pick me up at seven-thirty?”
Eddie nodded, his face still pulled into a scowl. When he realised Robin couldn’t see him, he shook his muddled brain and mumbled, “Uh—yeah. Seven-thirty. See you then.”
“Cool. See you soon, Doofus,” Robin sang. And then the line went dead.
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cinnbar-bun · 5 months
Text
Zoro Birthday HCs!
Rating: SFW + NSFW hcs (NSFW under read more)
A/n: these were posted during his birthday im only just posting it here now haha.
GN reader and pronouns.
Read at my ao3 here!
SFW
It’s Zoro’s birthday! Yay! And that means lots of celebrating.
Or, in Zoro’s case, it means more napping and drinking.
Yes, it is a bit different but Zoro likes more lowkey birthday celebrations where he can rest as an excuse.
“Fine, since you’re twisting my arm about it, I’ll just go and lay down.”
He says, as if he wasn’t smiling and wanting to sleep after eating you and Sanji’s birthday breakfast.
He mostly wants birthday cuddles and kisses while he’s trying to sleep. He wants to have you slung on him like a koala and snoring in his ear for his nap.
He admits he doesn’t really need any gifts, but he’s not going to complain if you got him something. He’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth when you reveal the gift box(es) to him.
If you get him something personalized or something like jewelry, expect him to glance in confusion at you.
“Why’d you get me something like this? Not really the fashionable type, ya know.”
But he will be wearing it every day from then on and will never take it off.
Author note: god he’d look ridiculously hot with a thin gold chain on his neck and I want it so bad.
Drinks a lot tonight. He’s going to deny that his birthday is anything special but he’s chugging it like he’s liberated another country. Maybe it’s because you and the crew care so much that it makes a day he normally skips on so full of love and joy.
Sanji made the cake (and designed it at your discretion) so Zoro acts like it ain’t shit.
“It’s just a cake. No need to go crazy over it.”
He ate like three slices before Luffy barged in and swallowed the rest of it.
He continues to have a great day with the crew after they make sure to throw him a small party as well as give him their gifts.
Speaking of gifts…
NSFW
When you tell Zoro you have another gift for him in his quarters, well, he’s a bit shocked. You already did so much for him, and you’re giving him another gift?
He follows your instructions and finds you on his bed, naked, pressing one his swords against your body while you’re holding a bottle of expensive sake.
Let’s just say his fourth sword started getting up.
He can’t wait to dive in and have fun with this “gift.”
He manhandles you a bit more, holding you tightly and gripping your hips while he’s busy kissing you roughly and exploring your mouth.
He enjoys drinking the sake from your mouth in these scenarios, mostly because he likes to fluster you enough to let it drip from your mouth.
He also likes to lay you down and pour the sake on your body so he can lick and slurp it up. The sounds are almost so obscene it makes you turn red.
“Eyes on me. Don’t get shy on me now. You’re the one who wanted to give me this gift, right?”
He’s happily performing oral on you over and over, to the point where you’re wondering if he remembers it’s his birthday, not yours.
If you insist on giving him oral, he ain’t complaining. Just know he’ll be a bit rougher and grip your hair tighter. And the stuff he’s whispering and telling you is so sinful, it’s almost impossible not to feel your heart race.
“Fuck. Just like that. You can take more. I know you can.”
You two are going at it all night, and while Zoro normally is keen on keeping you quiet, tonight, he throws caution into the wind and doesn’t care how loud you are. Heck, he even starts encouraging you to scream his name.
“Just like that, baby. Who’s fucking you this good?”
Maybe it’s the alcohol making him rather tipsy enough to not give a shit about what could be going on.
When you two finish after a long night, he pulls you in close and kisses the top of your head.
“Hey… I don’t think I thanked you for today… thanks. Really.”
You’re falling asleep on his chest but the look in his eyes is so full of love and adoration for you, and he sighs happily knowing he’s got you.
You’re the best thing in his life, and he knows that despite all the gifts he got today… you’re still the best gift he could ever ask for or even deserve.
So he presses another kiss to your forehead and enjoys the afterglow of a wonderful birthday night, his mind drifting away to things he could do for you.
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cranberrymoons · 5 months
Text
speak a little louder
prompt: mutual pining (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: t word count: 673 words tags: fluff, flirting, nerds in a basement
welcome to Day 3 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!
The campaign lasts all day.
That’s what they call it – a campaign – as if it’s an actual military coup and not what it really is, which is a bunch of teenage nerds sitting around a table in Mike Wheeler’s basement with sodas and a bag full of dice. 
Steve is used to it by now, but he doesn’t expect to have to wait for a whole extra hour when he shows up to collect them, but here he is, sitting on the couch in the corner and staring at the ceiling while he listens to Eddie drone on and on about elves or some shit.
Well – drone is maybe sort of an inaccurate word, considering how into it Eddie’s getting, crouched on his seat like a gargoyle, talking with his hands, doing the voices. It’s actually kind of fun to watch, and Steve is maybe sort of pretending not to find it as interesting as he does, because he has a reputation to maintain, dammit, and he refuses to be drawn in by the spark in Eddie’s eye or the flush on his cheeks or the way his fingers weave strands of the story across the table.
Whatever. Steve doesn’t even care.
“Sorry about that,” Eddie says when it finally wraps up, when he’s climbed off his chair and is standing in front of Steve while the kids bicker over something and take their sweet time packing their things. “Couldn’t stop in the middle, they would’ve killed me.”
He reaches behind his ear for a cigarette stuck there, and Steve stares at the way his rings catch the light as his hand moves. 
“No problem,” he says. He clears his throat. “Hey, can I –” 
He nods his head toward the cigarette, and Eddie raises his eyebrows, holding it out.
“Bum a smoke?” he asks. “Sure, Harrington. Anything for the valiant babysitter.”
Steve smiles as he accepts it from him, and he tries to ignore the way his stomach flips when their fingers brush. 
“Thanks.”
---
They take them upstairs, outside to wait for the kids, and it’s starting to get cold enough now that Steve has to flip up the collar of his jacket against the chill as soon as they step onto the porch. 
“That was cool back there,” he says around the filter clenched in his teeth as he ducks his head to light the cigarette. “The thing, or whatever.”
Eddie eyes him for a moment, then flicks ash onto the ground. “It was like… the metric opposite of cool, but thanks anyway.”
Steve laughs. “Still. It looked fun.”
“You should join us sometime,” Eddie says. He clears his throat. “I mean… if you want.”
And Steve can’t help it; even on top of everything big and scary going on in his chest right now, the idea of actually playing the fantasy math nerd game sounds like –
“I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head. “I think I’ll leave that one to the pros.”
Eddie laughs a little. “Oh, we’re pros now?”
“You managed to save the elf. I think. Sounds pretty professional to me. I couldn’t save an elf.”
Eddie gives him a look. “There wasn’t even an elf in that part of the campaign. I think you’re just making shit up.”
Steve laughs too at that. “Yeah, I had… no idea what you were doing. But the kids seemed into it.”
“So what are you into, then?” Eddie asks. “If not nerd shit, then what?”
You , Steve wants to say. Mostly these days, I’m just into you .
He takes a breath. “I don’t know,” he says instead. “I don’t mind the fantasy stuff. It’s the math part I have issues with.”
Eddie smiles a little. “Then take the numbers out of it. Come watch a movie with me sometime. I bet we can find some kind of nerd thing for you to be into.”
Steve feels his stomach give another little jolt as he stubs out his cigarette. “Yeah, I bet we can.”
[also on ao3]
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inmyicyworld · 10 months
Text
Jersey
College! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Natasha’s idea of getting a jersey with Bucky’s name turned out to be much better than you expected.
Words count: 3.2k
Warnings: established relationships, SMUT, unprotected sex (but they’re both safe and clean), dirty talk, sex in the locker room, a lot of pet names, Bucky is needy and caring, he’s deeply in love.
Author’s note: hey everyone! thank you for your feedback on my last posts, it means a lot to me. so this is my first smut, and I hope you’ll enjoy it. (I became creative with that photo of the red jersey because I couldn’t find a perfect picture, so I edited it for like half an hour😭)
I have many ideas for my future works, but you have something interesting in mind, feel free to write me about it. Maybe I get some inspiration and create something🩷🦋
*English is not my first language. Sorry if you find any mistakes*
masterlist my ao3 ko-fi
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It’s been another game for the "Avengers", where your boyfriend Bucky Barnes was a quarterback. Today was one of the most important games against "Hydra" – their biggest enemy. Obviously, you couldn't miss the game, and Natasha, your best friend and roommate, will be with you as always. And right now, she has convinced you to do something that has been on your mind for a long time.
"C’mon, It’ll be fun. He’ll like it, I promise!" She said as you two stood near the place that made custom t-shirts with any prints. And at this moment, Natasha wanted you to order a jersey with Bucky’s number and his name on it.
"I don’t know, Nat. I mean, I want to do it, but what if he thinks that it’s too much?" You nervously played with the hem of your skirt.
"Now stop it." She stood before you and put her hand on her hips like a mother who was scolding her child. "You’ve been dating for more than a year, and his guy loves you so fucking much that he can’t even tear his eyes from you every time you two are in the same room. So when I tell you that he’ll love it, I mean it." You silently looked at her for a few minutes, but when she questionably raised her eyebrow, you finally gave up.
"Fine, you won. I hate you."
"I love you too, baby." Nat chuckled and dragged you to the store.
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It seemed like there were thousands of people because everyone wanted to see one of the most important games of the season. People were already taking their seats, but you and Nat went straight to the locker room to wish the guys good luck. Trainer Fury was very strict about this, and it was forbidden for people not from the team to go there, but for some reason Nat always found a way to solve this problem.
"Guys!" Natasha loudly knocked at the door. "Are all of you already dressed up? I’m not in the mood to see somebody’s ass today!"
"Come in!" You heard Thor’s loud voice.
"Oh, I see our support group is here." As soon as you two walked in, Sam ended up between you and Nat and threw his hands over your shoulders, leading you deeper into the room. "Barnes will be here soon; don’t worry."
"Okay. Are you guys ready to beat their asses?" You smiled and looked at the almost entire team that had come to see you and Nat.
"Don’t worry, Sweets, we’ll win, as always." Tony answered you while he was cleaning his helmet. "But you should tell your boyfriend to stay away from Rumlow, or else he’ll be suspended again. By the way, is that jersey with his name?" You quietly nodded as the whole team made an impressive ‘woo’ together.
"You two are disgustingly sweet, you know that?" Sam rolled his eyes, and at the same time, the door slammed. "It’s him; go give him some kisses for luck."
"Shut up, Samuel." You laughed and left their little circle to find Bucky looking at his phone. "Don’t you want to say hi, James?" He moved his eyes to you, and his face immediately lit up with happiness.
"I just wanted to text you." He threw his phone on the bench and came closer to wrap his arms around you. "Hi, doll. I missed you so much today." He mumbled into your neck.
"I missed you too, Buck." You smiled when your heart filled with all the love you had for that man. "But wait, I have to show you something." You slipped out of his hands, excited and nervous at the same time. "Look what I’ve got!" You happily turned around to show Bucky your back and flipped your hair to the side so he could see everything better. "Do you like it?"
You had a big red jersey on you, to which Bucky didn't even pay attention at first. But when you turned around, his mouth went dry and his whole body became fuzzy. You had his number 17 and the word "Barnes" on your back. You were wearing his name.
For a few seconds, he was silent. He didn't answer your answer either, so with confusion written on your face, you faced him again, only to see a weird look on his face.
"What? You don't like it? Should I take this off? I'm sorry…" You started to apologize, only to be interrupted by his low voice.
"Don't you dare take this off, Y/N." He suddenly came closer to you again, and the next thing you knew, your back was slapped against the metal lockers when Bucky’s lips attacked you. He kissed you passionately and deeply, pressing his body against yours as if he was desperate to touch you and feel you closer. You couldn’t hold back the quiet moan that escaped your mouth when he tilted your head with his hand, helping his tongue slip into your mouth.
You thought that you heard the screams of the boys on the other side of the room, but they were really muffled when your head was filled with the thought of your boyfriend’s soft lips and warm skin. Bucky finally broke the kiss, leaving you two catching your breath while he put his forehead on yours and closed his eyes.
"You don’t understand what you’re doing to me. You look so fucking hot in this jersey, I want to fuck you right now." He whispered so only you could hear. "You made me hard, doll." To prove his words, he pushed his hips a little bit closer to you so you could feel the hardness.
"‘M sorry; I didn’t know that you would react like that."
"Hey, Buck, we should already go." Bucky’s grip on your waist became only tighter, when he heard Steve’s voice, and he nuzzled into your neck.
"Give me a minute."
"The game is gonna start soon."
"I said, give me a minute, Steve!" He said it louder. Bucky deeply inhaled, and it was obvious that he just needed some time to calm down.
"Shh, it’s okay, James." You put your hands through his hair because you knew that it would instantly relax him. "You're gonna win this game, right? And without fights." 
"I’ll do everything for you. I just love you so much, doll." He whispered into your neck when his body finally relaxed and he was able to move away from you.
"I love you too, James." He quickly kissed you again before turning around to face the team, who had knowing smirks on their faces.
"You two should get a room." Sam had an annoyed look on his face.
"Don’t worry, Birdbrain, we will. Are you ready for the game, or are you gonna stand here and complain all day?" Bucky winked at you and went out of the room without waiting for the answer from Sam.
"So…" Natasha suddenly appeared near you. "Did you make The White Wolf hard by just wearing a shirt with his name on it?" She grinned, as it was her original plan that worked.
"Oh, shut up!"
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The game was tough. Hydra played dirty as always, and Bucky almost got into a fight with Rumlow during the intense moment. You almost jumped out of the seat during the last few minutes of the game, and when "Avengers" finally won, you and Natsha screamed at the top of your lungs.
As soon as the team was done cheering and hugging, Bucky looked at the seat where you were supposed to be but saw only Nat, who pointed at you already standing near the rim. He ran to you with the biggest smile on his face, and when he finally reached you, he crushed his lips into yours.
You didn’t care that many people looked at you, even though you knew that some particular groups of girls would gossip about it for the next week because… well, everyone wanted your boyfriend. You just wrapped your hands around his sweaty neck and pulled him closer to you as far as you could with a fence between you two.
"I’m so proud of you, baby." You whispered into his lips. "You were amazing as always."
"Thank you, doll. I'm happy that you’re here with me." He looked into your eyes as his right thumb rubbed your cheek.
"You know I couldn’t miss your game, especially if it’s that important."
"Mhm, can you… come to the locker room in like twenty minutes?" Bucky nervously licked his lips.
"To the locker room? I thought we were going to celebrate it with the team as always."
"Maybe later, but I’m thinking of something, so come, ‘kay?" He started to go back to the field, but not before giving you another sweet kiss on the lips.
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You sat in the cafeteria for about twenty minutes, passionately waiting for the appropriate time to go to the locker room because you really didn’t want to see another naked man that wasn’t your boyfriend. One such experience was enough for you. You asked Nat to come with you, but when you repeated Bucky’s words to her, she just gave you a mysterious smirk and patted you on the shoulder, saying that you better go there alone.
When you finally got there and knocked on the door, you heard only Bucky’s voice, who told you to come in.
"James? What’s going on?" You asked as you came further into the room. It was empty except for Bucky, who came out of nowhere and locked the door. "What are you doing?"
He didn’t answer you; he just crossed the room, kissed you, and pushed your back into the metal lockers, just as he did it a few hours ago. He was greedy, passionate, and a little bit too rough, so you couldn’t keep the moan from escaping your mouth. Bucky’s hands squeezed your hips and then went higher under your jersey.
"Bucky…" You pulled away from the kiss, but he took advantage of it and started kissing your neck. Your eyes rolled back as you squeezed his shoulders and completely forgot everything you wanted to say. He sucked your soft skin into his mouth and even bit you. It was obvious that he desperately wanted to leave dark marks on your neck, but, honestly, you didn’t care. He smelled too good fresh out of the shower, with his bare chest and low-rise gray sweatpants, and his mouth… God, you knew what his mouth could do. "Baby, we can’t do it here."
"We can, and we will." He left your neck and looked at you, leaving only a few inches between your faces. "You can’t imagine how hard it was for me not to bend you over the closest surface when you showed me that fucking shirt. With my name on it? So everyone could see that you’re mine?" Bucky licked his already swollen lips. You pressed your thighs together, feeling how wet you were. He definitely felt that motion because his eyes became darker, and he looked like he was going to devour you at that same place.
"James…" You quietly whimpered, not being able to hold yourself anymore.
"Baby, fuck– doll, I love it when you call me that. You drive me insane." He decided not to lose any more time, so his hands went straight to the button of your jeans. He helped you get out of them, not losing a chance to touch your bare legs. "Now turn around, baby." You heard a deep moan, probably when he saw the back of the shirt again.
"Bucky, please." You whispered when you felt that more juices came out of you. You loved when your boyfriend became needy and possessive.
"Look at you, doll. You're already ready for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet." He said that when he put his hand over your pussy, he probably felt the heat and pulse. "I would’ve eaten you out, but I need you too fucking much, so I promise to do it when we get to my place."
"O-okay, just do something, please." You pushed your ass back and heard a loud, deep moan as soon as you touched Bucky’s hard cock through his pants. You put your hands behind your back to try to push down his clothes, and at the same time, Bucky removed your black thongs.
You felt his hard cock on the bare skin of your ass, the tip already leaking with pre-cum. Bucky squeezed your ass with his hands and moved his hips. His perfectly shaped cock grinded against your wet folds, and you couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping your throat.
"Please, don’t tease me–" You didn’t even finish the sentence when Bucky moved forward and buried himself deep inside of you. The mixture of pain and pleasure washed over you, and you didn’t even realize that you moaned too loudly. He was too perfect, filling you completely and stretching you around him in the most delicious way.
"Sh-h, sweetheart, you don’t want other people to hear you, right?" One of Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt and laid on your stomach, and the other one covered your mouth, pulling you closer to his chest. "Good girl." He mumbled into your ear when you shook your head.
Bucky pulled away from you, still staying deep inside of your heat, letting you adjust to his size. He put one hand from your mouth on your back, which made you lean forward toward the lockers. The cold metal cooled your hot skin, but it still felt like you were burning inside.
Bucky finally started moving his hips, and the filling of his dick coming in and out of you made you almost faint. You two had sex a million times, but it still amazed you how full and satisfied he made you feel.
"That’s right, doll. You’re so greedy for my dick, huh?" He started to go faster, and you tried to move your body to his rhythm. "Was this your plan? Showing me that fucking jersey, so I could fuck you like a little slut you actually are?" His hand went over your back, tracing letters on your shirt with his fingers, and his motions became harder. In fact, it wasn’t your idea, but you should definitely thank Natasha because you really didn’t expect your boyfriend to become even more obsessed with you.
Your mouth opened in a silent scream, and you clenched around Bucky’s cock, making him moan. "I feel how you’re clenching ‘round me. I know that you like it when I call you my slut. Only mine." 
"Yes, Bucky– James, please." A sudden slap on your right cheek pulled another moan out of you, and Bucky just chuckled, knowing that you’re always loud with him.
"Please what, baby?"
"Let me cum, please– James! I’m so close." You felt too overwhelmed with pleasure, not even realizing that you started crying when his fingers moved to your clit, drawing little circles there.
"Fuck, one day I’m gonna make you Mrs. Barnes, so you will have a well-damn reason to wear this shirt." He deeply chuckled, moving harder and harder into you. More nasty sounds of skin slapping into skin and your not-so-quiet moan filled the room. "Can you imagine that, baby? Being my cute little wife, who likes when I fuck the shit out of her? Poor doll, crying. Can’t even handle my cock deep inside your pussy, can’t you?" He moved even deeper into you, and that was it.
"God– James!" You slammed your hands on the metal near your face, trying to find something to hold onto, as the wave of heat and extreme pleasure covered your whole body and mind. Your legs trembled, and the only thing that kept you straight was Bucky’s strong hands. He felt that you were over the edge, that you couldn’t stand on your legs, and he definitely felt more juices coming out of you. He looked down and saw how his shiny cock was coming in and out of your pussy that was particularly choking him, and that sight threw him over the edge. With the last movement, he pulled your body into him, wrapping his hands around you and releasing his hot seed deep inside of you.
You both moaned at the feeling of you being so full of his cum that it had already started dripping down your thighs.
"That’s it, baby." Bucky whispered into your ear. "You did so well. Are you okay?" He left light kisses on your cheek.
It was too intense; not a single thought came to your head, and for a few seconds you tried to put yourself together.
"Mhm." It was the only thing that you were able to answer because your body was still trembling with the leftovers of your intense orgasm.
You two stayed in that position for a few minutes until Bucky realized that you had become too sleepy. He tried to pull out, but you grabbed his hand.
"‘M too sensitive." You almost cried.
"I know, sweetheart, but now I have to clean you and take you home." Bucky gently came out of you, and your body got goosebumps at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you. It took him all the strength not to shove it back into you with his fingers, but you were obviously too tired, and he couldn’t properly take care of you since you weren’t at his or your bedroom.
Bucky fell on his knees, quickly took a towel from his bag on the floor, and carefully cleaned the mess between your thighs. He reached for your panties, helped you put them back, leaving a soft kiss on your leg, and then helped you sit on the bench.
He looked at your sleepy and tired face while putting on his clothes.
"Hey, doll? You’re too quiet. Is everything okay? Was I too rough?"
"I’m ‘kay, it was just as intense as when you make me come many times in one night. Just help me with my jeans; I can’t feel my legs."
"Of course, sweetheart." He helped you with your pants and then fixed your messy hair. You couldn’t imagine how you must’ve looked right now. "I love you so much. Thank you for being here today. You’re truly the best thing that ever happened to me." Bucky kissed your forehead and wrapped his hands around your body, standing up with you.
"I love you too, Buck. So so much." You happily buried your face into his neck, knowing that your boyfriend was going to take care of everything.
He picked up his bag and keys for the locker room and came out of there. Bucky didn’t even close the door when he heard a familiar voice.
"Do not tell me that you two did what I think you did!" Sam was standing there a few steps away with disgust and shock on his face. "I didn’t expect that from you, Y/N/N." He joked.
"Sorry, Sam." You moved away from Bucky’s neck and tried to give Sam your best apologetic smile.
"Well, I’m not. Since you’re here, close the door, Birdbrain; we hurry."
Sam stood there for a few more moments after Bucky left with you in his arms.
He decided that the headphones that he left in the room could wait until another time.
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steddieunderdogfics · 1 month
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This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  Pricklywhicket/@messessentialist ! Prickleywhicket has four fics published to AO3 -- All in the Steddie tag!
Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by pricklywhicket:
so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey
it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)
start by pulling him out of the fire
"Sadie is so super talented in the way she describes literally everything. She is so good at writing and it's a shame that she's flown under the radar because she's not the quickest at putting things out there." -- Anonymous
Below the cut, Pricklywhicket answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!
Why do you write Steddie?
Why do any of us write anything? Because we want the story to exist in the world, and it doesn’t yet, so we gotta hike up our pants and do it ourselves!
What’s your favorite trope to READ?
Hurt/Comfort. I’m always a sucker for the blorbos taking care of one another, in whatever form that takes. This has always been true, across a truly astronomical number of fandoms I’ve found myself dabbling in over the years.
What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?
…actually, probably hurt/comfort! I just need to get those little dudes some validation and unconditional positive regard, okay?
What’s your favorite Steddie fic?
I’m sure I won’t be the first one to say this, but: I HAVE TO PICK ONE????? Okay, alright. I can do this. I’m gonna say…Sanctuary by SpicedSage.
Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?
I’ve only written canon or canon-adjacent fic so far, so I’m eager to work on something that’s completely AU. I think there’s a unique challenge to keeping characters recognizable as themselves in a world that might not have all the same contexts that made them into that person.
What is your writing process like?
I would love to say it’s super organized and well-planned, but the truth is it’s mostly about routine and responsibility. I set aside time to do it every day, even if I can only tap out a few sentences. I’m not very strict about writing in a straight line - I can stop a scene if it’s giving me trouble, write a note about what I think happens in some [brackets], and move on to something that I have more fully fleshed-out ideas for. Sometimes writing the next scene helps you know more about what needs to happen in the current one. 
Do you have any writing quirks?
I'm sure my betas would say yes 🙃 I tend to write a lot of dialogue - a lot of my revision process is going back through and realizing I have two pages of a conversation with no indication of what’s physically happening in the world around the speakers.
Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?
Definitely when I’m finished. Prior to my ‘23 bang fic, I had never written anything chaptered. I knew going in that I could NOT start posting if it wasn’t finished, because I’ve been burned too many times by abandoned works. I didn’t want to do that to people reading my fic, and the best way to avoid it is to finish before you post.
Which fic are you most proud of?
Easily start by pulling him out of the fire. The biggest, most ambitious thing I’ve ever attempted - I still kind of can’t believe I wrote 85k.
How did you get the idea for start by pulling him out of the fire?
Like most terrible ideas, it was spawned in a fandom discord chat. We were discussing the tendency of Steddie fics to centralize the party at Steve’s house, because his parents are never there anyway. And then someone mentioned what if the parents came home and found their house occupied, and someone else mentioned Wayne being there, and it just sort of…spiraled out from there.
When writing start by pulling him out of the fire, what was something you didn’t expect?
I had no idea, going in, that I was going to write a comprehensive history of the Wayne and Eddie Munson relationship. I started writing it where I did to give some background on Wayne’s existing distaste for the elder Harrington, and then I just…kept writing. Over the course of a month or two I wrote 20k of WayneAndEddie that I had no idea was in me - it just kept coming.
What inspired it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)?
@wynnyfryd. It was a gift for her birthday. We were talking about our mutual love of Letterkenny, and she mentioned that the episode was her favorite and wouldn’t it be funny if someone wrote… and the rest is history.
What was your favorite part to write from it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)?
I had an unreasonable amount of fun with that one in general. But I think my favorite part was Eddie polling the party about what Steve means to them all. It was fun to sort of put myself in each character’s shoes and think about how they would answer. Plus y’know, any excuse to unironically love on Steve Harrington.
How do/did you feel writing so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey?
I believe my exact words upon deciding to write it were “jingles miserably to a blank google doc.” This was a classic case of saying “god I wish there was a fic where—” and having friends tell me that it was now my responsibility to write it. I’m glad I did, though. I love that story, and it proved to me that I could write sex and publish it and not burst into flames. I also just really, really love summer storms. And Wayne’s use of the singular ‘herpe.’
What was the most difficult part of writing so let's sneak in from the cheap seats honey?
Getting over the fear of publishing something E-rated. It was just something I hadn’t done, and I had a lot of anxiety that people were not going to respond well to it. I made three people individually review the sex scenes before I even asked anyone to beta the full fic. Of course I was worried for nothing, the reception for that fic was super lovely and gave me the confidence boost I needed to attempt start by pulling him out of the fire!
Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?
This is like asking me to pick a favorite child. I’ll say this: most of my favorite lines in start by pulling him out of the fire were taken directly from conversations @wormdebut and I had about the fic. She’s my number one cheerleader and sounding board, and sometimes she’s so goddamn funny that I just have to include it. You have her to thank, for instance, for Steve quite literally dropping his croissant when he first sees Eddie in glasses.
Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?
I have a couple of irons in the fire, but nothing I’m ready to share just yet! I’ve been taking a breather from writing (blame baldur’s gate 3, okay) but my WIPs are still very much IP. Stay tuned!
Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?
Not that I can think of!
Thank you to our author, Pricklywhicket, and our anonymous nominator! See more of pricklywhicket's works featured on our page throughout the day!
Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!
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redfurrycat · 2 months
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🤠🐕‍🦺☃️🐾🏍️🐱🐓Animal Companions Fic Recs🐓🏍️🐱🐾☃️🐕‍🦺🤠
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Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕
Ao3 Authors: Aphroditedany, Bbr1, BeautifulCreature, Buckybraciole, Callsignyours, Demiclar, Emmedoesntdomath, Indybob, Kazanskysmitchell, Kerbyfullyloaded, LemonsAndSugarMakeLemonade, Lesbiseresin, LoveChildofInsertShowHere, SunMonTue, Teacupivy, ThisisYour_Captain_Speaking, ToukoJalorda003, Whimsicule.
Art Bonus - (coming soon)
> Mythological Creatures & Shapeshifters {🤠🐓} > Daily Heroes/Animal Care {🤠🐓}
his dark materials / dæmon AU by buckybraciole {T} {🤠🐓}
A series of one-shots about fighter pilots and their dæmons.
Golden Retriever Puppy by bbr1 {G} {🤠🐓}
“Have you ever had a dog?” Jake asks. “Nah, who am I kidding. Of course you haven’t. I’m going to get you a dog.”
Bad Idea! by LemonsAndSugarMakeLemonade {T} {🤠🐓/☃️🏍️}
Bradley: Hey, are you and Ice around? Well, this is slightly odd Mav thought but he replied anyway. Yeah, why? Bradley: We have our baby! We’ll be there in 10. Mav almost dropped his phone at the reply. What the fuck. Bradley Bradshaw, you better call me this instant.
A cat named Crow by LoveChildofInsertShowHere {T}
The Meowfect Evening {☃️🏍️}
Sometimes a kitten can make an evening even better
Some Birds Can't Fly {☃️🏍️}
Crow becomes more of a part of the Mitchell-Kazansky family
How Crow Won Slider's Heart {☃️🏍️}
Sometimes a cat will settle an insane debate better than Ice can
The Bumps in Quiet Nights {☃️🏍️}
Ice worries when Maverick takes too long to come back home from picking up dinner
And A Partridge in a Pear Tree {☃️🏍️}
Mav and Ice obtain 3 new family members in the form of kittens
Is it a Racoon? {🤠🐓/☃️🏍️}
Rooster meets the new additions to the Mitchell-Kazansky family and gets talked into getting a pet
Goosebumps {🤠🐓}
Jake and Bradley find the perfect cat for them, which brings up some emotions for Bradley
How to make a Flock {🤠🐓/☃️🏍️}
Mav discovers a box full of kittens on the side of the road on his way to suprise Ice at work
Nick's worst weekend ever by Aphroditedany {T} {🤠🐓}
Nick Bradshaw, Bradley Bradshaw's cat, might unexpectedly bring him closer to a charming co-pilot. It doesn't mean Nick likes it, though.
Skies of Dust by kerbyfullyloaded {T} {☃️🏍️}
Walking into the sky
Pete Mitchell was fourteen when his daemon settled. It took him a few years to join her in the sky, wings on his chest and steel all around him.
Every atom of me and every atom of you
The turn of a dial, snapshots of a life, dust all around. Maverick, Iceman, and their daemons in the years between 1987 and 2019. "'On,' said the alethiometer. Farther, higher. So on they climbed." The Subtle Knife (or: a series of stories based on the different symbols of the alethiometer, a sequel to Walking into the Sky)
at my side by demiclar {M} {☃️🏍️}
"If there's one thing Maverick is good at, it's taking care of his own." Slider said, throwing his arm around his shoulders and tugging him close. "I'm just glad we can return the favor from time to time." Pete Mitchell came back from the Dagger mission with PTSD worse than he'd ever experienced before. His family is eager to help, but piecing themselves back together after a decade of separation is a challenge not easily overcome. Pete isn’t the best at accepting help, and the family’s problems go deeper than expected, but they won’t stop trying until they bring everyone home.
Goose the Dog and Mav the Human, the Fun Never Ends by ThisisYour_Captain_Speaking {G}
Man's Best Friend
Maverick is one of the most kind hearted people ever and the things he loves, he does so with everything he has. Why not let him have a dog? AKA What if Theo was originally Mav's dog?
Well Well Well, What Have We Here?
It's Fourth of July Weekend and Ice has invited friends and their families over to celebrate. However, before the day of the actual celebration, Mav takes his dog Goose out for a run. Will they be able to beat the storm brewing or will Mav land himself in trouble yet again?
Wrench the Golden Retriever by emmedoesntdomath {T} {☃️🏍️}
“Mav, please tell me you didn’t get us a dog.” Silence. He sighed. The contractually obligated hey-I-bought-a-dog-without-asking-and-then-gave-it-a-name-you’ll-hate-but-you-should-still-love-me fic
call it what you want by lesbiseresin {M} {🤠🐓}
“Shit, Mav,” Bradley says through a laugh as he squats down, leaving his beer on the railing so he has both hands free to stick out. “You finally get me that dog I was always asking for?” It’s another joke. He knows that Theo belongs to Penny and Amelia, but there has to be a reason Maverick is bringing this up. “You caught me,” Maverick deadpans. Bradley can see Penny elbow him out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t bother looking up, too engrossed in the happy pants Theo is letting out as Bradley switches to scratching under his chin. “You could say I did. Sort of.” “Sort of, huh?” (alternatively: jake & bradley getting their shit together ft. theo the dog)
Dust is Everlasting (And Love Even Moreso) by ToukoJalorda003 {M} {🤠🐓/☃️🏍️}
If Time Rewound to Dust (Love Would Endure Anyway)
All Rooster had ever wanted was to work for Jurassic World - his godfather did, and for his whole life, it had been his dream. Now he finally had it, and he…wasn’t so sure how he felt about Hangman. The man was just too dangerous, too unpredictable, and Rooster feared it would end in disaster. …But disaster had found them anyway, and now it was starting to look like it was too late to accept Hangman’s offer for a date. Damn.
When Dust is all That Remains (Love is Eternally Present)
After the events of the park’s catastrophic closing, Bradley just wanted to rest. Maybe take a nap and remind himself what he’d nearly had. But he couldn’t do that, because an active volcano was going to wipe out the remaining dinosaurs - including Jake’s raptors. …And if it was possible, he wasn’t going to let that happen. Maybe, while he was at it, he’d finally get that date, too.
be the ocean where I unravel by whimsicule {T} {🤠🐓}
He’s not even thirty years old. A lieutenant in the United States Navy. A highly-decorated aviator with two air-to-air kills. And he’s suddenly gone ahead and become scared of the goddamn sea. What a fucking joke.
make a lil' room for me by callsignyours {G} {🤠🐓}
Jake somehow ends up with Bradley's dog.
The Tiniest Problem by BeautifulCreature {G} {🤠🐓}
Bradley has an allergic reaction to his and Jake's new puppy.
Mine, Immaculate Dream by kazanskysmitchell {M} {☃️🏍️}
After the ever-so-stressful Dagger mission, Pete Mitchell is tired and craves some normalcy. It's seemingly difficult for him to return to normal this time, and his protective (and very worried) husband can't help but notice the changes in Pete's mental health. After an official PTSD diagnosis, being permanently grounded, and the adoption of a service dog, Pete Mitchell attempts to adjust, but can't do it without the help of his wingman and their adopted and dysfunctional family. (+ art from Cannibal_Hellhound)
better than your best dreams by teacupivy {M} {🤠🐓}
“Hey,” he says, nudging Bradly with his toes. “You brought Aubergine in, right?” Jake watches Bradley look up from his screen, stare into the mid distance, and decide to lie to him. “…Yes.” Tense and robotic, he slides his laptop onto the coffee table and slips out from beneath Jake’s legs. “Unrelated, I’ll be right back.”
With our pets, a house becomes our home by SunMonTue {E} {🤠🐓}
Jake adopts a puppy and then proceeds to fly across the country to take up a flight instructor position at Corpus Christi where Bradley is the vet (DVM) that Jake takes Brisket to once he arrives. Bradley asks him out. MeetCute.
Domestic Bliss by indybob {T} {🤠🐓}
Jake has had the longest week of his life. Between hops, training, and instructing, he’s worn out. Noticing how exhausted his husband is, Bradley takes it upon himself to go above and beyond to give Jake the most relaxing evening and weekend possible. Or: Much like Jake in this story, I’ve been very busy for the last couple of weeks, so I’m using this as my own form of catharsis. Feat. Brisket the Dog
Come on baby light my fire… by SunMonTue {E} {🤠🐓}
An apartment fire alarm at 1am featuring Jake in his underwear and Bradley with kittens.
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pedrito-friskito · 1 year
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strawberry wine - joel miller x fem!reader
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during - part seven
series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3
tommy takes care of joel as best he can, and you try and make a break for it.
a/n: y’all I am having way too much fun writing this story. part 7 earlier than planned, and tbh I’ll probably post part 8 tomorrow if I can. the inspo is REAL and thank you all for the comments and reblogs and messages and general love and support - you have no idea how happy it makes me!! 🤍
word count: 4.6k
warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, angst, canon-typical violence and injuries, death, blood, near-death experiences, questionable decisions on the military’s part
✨follow @friskito-library for updates on new works/chapters!✨
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Tommy watches his brother fall apart.
It’s one thing after another, and he can’t blame Joel. The world’s ending; everything else is falling apart, it only makes sense that he would too. But still, it hurts. Watching his big brother — the only constant in his life for as long as he can remember — break down, it makes Tommy hurt in a way he can’t fully comprehend. It’s not fair.
He thinks about the soldier, in the days that follow. He’d come up the ridge just as the gunfire sounded, already looking for his brother and niece, never expecting to find them the way that he did. Joel was pleading, already hurt, his hands in the air, as good a white flag as any, and the soldier just didn’t care. It went against everything in Tommy, but when the soldier lifted the gun again, Tommy fired first.
But then…Sarah.
There was so much blood. He should be used to it, being who he is, seeing what he’s seen. But it’s different, it feels different, it sits in the back of his mind and haunts his every step. She was so young. So bright, so good. And then just, gone.
“Tommy, help me!”
He’d never heard Joel like that, so desperate, so lost. The only moment that rivalled it was when they’d been in the truck, Tommy driving, Joel with his cell phone pressed to his ear. Talking to you, asking where you were, if you were safe.
“It’s everywhere,” Joel had said, and Tommy had felt a distinct feeling of helplessness wash through him. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t just in Austin. He focused on the road, tried not to look too closely at the chaos in the distance. Shit was hitting the fan, in every sense.
He tightened his grip on the wheel as Joel continued talking to you. You were hurt, Joel telling you to patch yourself up. “I’m not hanging up until you do.”
Tommy could hear the ache in his brother’s voice. Joel had never let you go, not completely, and Tommy knew it. He didn’t blame Joel for it; having you around was the happiest he’d seen his brother in a long time. He liked you, too, liked your laugh and your sense of humour, the way you looked at Joel like you were seeing him for the first time, every time.
He had to swerve the truck as another car barrelled down the road in the opposite direction. Joel grabbed for the dashboard, phone still glued to his ear. “I’m gonna find you, you hear me? Just get out of Boston and I swear to you, I’m gonna find you!” A pause, and Joel stared at the phone. Tommy could see his brother’s hands shaking. “It’s dead.”
A moment later, the radio — which had been spewing news reports since Joel had picked Tommy up — went silent. Joel tossed his phone onto the truck floor, slammed his fist into the dash a moment later.
“Fuck!”
“She okay?” Tommy asked, and Joel scrubbed a hand over his face. “Joel?”
“Boyfriend attacked her,” Joel grumbled, rubbing his forehead again. “Tried to fuckin’ bite her. She said he’s dead.”
Tommy had balked. “She did that?”
“Dunno,” Joel had replied, and huffed a humourless laugh, the noise almost flat. “Is it fucked up if I say I hope she did?”
Tommy had pressed the gas a little harder, the truck speeding down the road. “Everything’s fucked up, seems like.” Silence hung over them only for a moment, punctuated a moment later by the loud whoosh of flames as a car down the road collided with a telephone pole. Joel cursed under his breath, Tommy kept on driving. “What are we gonna do, Joel?”
“We get Sarah, and we go,” his brother replied, and despite the waver in his voice, he sounded sure. Surer than Tommy felt. “East.”
East, Tommy thought. Boston. You. Like he’d expected anything different. “You really think you can find her?”
“I can sure as hell try.”
The conversation feels like a year ago, instead of the handful of days it has been. Maybe a week; he’s starting to lose track, already. They’ve been holed up for a few hours now, tucked in the garage of an abandoned house. They crossed the state line a few hours back, and so far, Arkansas looks the same as Texas: fucking ravaged. Joel sits on the floor, knees up to his chest, face buried in his arms. Tommy feels antsy.
“I’m gonna go look inside, see if there’s anything worth taking. You good?”
“Yeah.”
Seems like every neighbourhood they come across has been evacuated, the houses all empty. They have guns; he already had his own, and he’d swiped the rifle from the soldier that had attacked Joel and Sarah. Though he was quick to give Joel his, take the soldier’s for himself. Something about Joel touching the weapon that had killed Sarah made Tommy’s gut twist. He didn’t like it either, but it was out of necessity.
The house has obviously been picked through, toppled furniture and broken glass as far as he can tell, but they get lucky: a first aid kit, a mostly full bottle of whiskey, and some cans of beans. Tommy grabs it all, heads up the stairs. Clearly an older couple, but there’s a few men’s jackets in one of the closets, a pair of work boots, plain t-shirts. He takes the lot, offering the boots to Joel when he gets back to the garage. “These your size?”
His brother takes the boots with a flat expression, pulling the laces to peer at the sole. “About there, yeah. Don’t need ‘em though.”
“Take ‘em with us, for when you do,” Tommy counters, offering Joel one of the t-shirts next. “You should change.”
“M’fine.”
Tommy hooks the gun over his head, setting it on the ground beside him as he crouches in front of Joel. “You’re covered in blood,” he says, and his brother snatches the t-shirt. “Need to change your bandage, too.”
“And what exactly do you want me to—” Joel starts, but shuts up when Tommy tosses the first aid kit to him.
“Need help?” he asks as Joel gets to his feet, pulls his stained t-shirt off, tosses it aside. They’d found a half empty kit in a cafe back in Austin, dressed Joel’s wound before they took off completely. Joel was lucky, just a graze, but Tommy knows it must hurt like hell, and it’ll leave a scar, a reminder of that night, of what was lost.
Joel winces as he pulls of the old bandage, tossing it in the same direction as the t-shirt. “Don’t suppose you found any water in there?” He digs through the first aid kit. “No antiseptic.”
“No water,” Tommy confirms, but holds up the bottle of whiskey. “Just this.”
It’s not ideal, using the alcohol to clean the graze — and Joel nearly puts his fist through the wall despite the healthy sip he takes before Tommy wipes a piece of gauze damp with the whiskey over the wound — but it’ll work. They have to make do.
Joel sinks back onto the concrete floor once the wound is redressed, the new t-shirt pulled over his head. He takes the whiskey with him, and Tommy sits beside his brother, both of them with rifles in their laps. They sip the bottle in turn, and Tommy savours the burn as it slides down his throat, warmth spreading through his chest. It loosens his tongue, makes him regret the question the second it’s out of his mouth.
“You think she made it?” He knows he doesn’t have to call you by name. Not now.
“I have to,” is his brother’s only response.
+
They stop you at the gate.
You don’t know what you’re thinking, but after staking out the giant metal fence for a few hours, you at least know that trying to sneak over is only going to result in a bullet finding a home somewhere it shouldn’t. The soldiers were firing at anything that made a break for the gate, and running full-force didn’t make you brave, it made you stupid. It made you look like one of them. Infected. Mindless. Blood-thirsty. A few have come sprinting up to the post you’ve been watching, and the soldiers have put them down without batting an eye.
As you’ve watched, a few groups of people have approached the post. All the same, their hands in the air, desperation in their voices, carried to you on the smoke-tinged breeze. Please help us. You’ve watched them get directed away from the post, towards a still-standing building a few yards from the gate, where a military-issue tent is set up. Some of them walk back out, are directed towards an armoured truck parked along the gate, and then the truck disappears, only for a new one to reappear in its stead a few minutes later. It’s like clockwork, but only some end up in the trucks.
Others are carried out the back of the tent, bodies dumped into one of the pits left by the bombing. It makes your skin crawl.
It takes a while, lacking the confidence to put yourself in the line of fire when you could just keep hiding in the city. The soldiers might find you eventually — if the Infected didn’t find you first — but if you could just keep going, maybe there was a break in the fence somewhere, a way out besides what lies ahead of you. But finally, after a few hours of squatting in the rubble, your limbs aching from staying pressed against brick, you step out of the alley, and put your hands in the air. You’ve pulled down the sleeves of the hoodie you’re wearing, letting it cover the bandage around your arm, and you grip the cuffs with your fingers as you raise your arms.
“I’m not infected!”
A flash of movement, and the barrels of at least ten rifles are pointed directly at you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, bile rising in the back of your throat. A suitable reaction, you think, and you swallow back the fear that makes you want to run. It’ll only get you killed that much faster.
“Name!” one of the soldier’s shouts. You can’t tell who; they’re all wearing helmets, visors covering their faces, turning it into a sea of darkness staring back at you. Your fingers flex, and you call you name back.
“I need to leave.”
One of them starts laughing. Another two look at each other, sharing a look you can’t suss out. A few lower their guns, and the prickle along your spine fizzles slightly. A visor lifts, revealing a soot-streaked face, a grim expression. “Why on earth would you wanna do that?”
“My family is in Texas,” you say, your voice surprisingly strong, if not a little thready from the smoke. “I have to go find them.”
“You’re gonna walk halfway across the country,” a faceless voice asks, “with a baseball bat? Girl, you don’t have a hope in hell.”
“Beats sitting around here, waiting to die,” you throw back, and the soldier that had lifted his visor lifts his brow. “Let me pass.”
“Can’t do that,” he replies, and steps up in front of you. He’s got a strange face, eyes a little too dark, hair hidden by the helmet, a scar on his mouth. Something about him reminds you of Dean, but a much harder version, his face more angular, the voice slightly deeper. “No one gets out of the city, we have orders.”
“You can’t hold me hostage here,” you start, stepping towards him. Your hands are still in the air. “My family is out there, I need to—”
“No one gets out,” another soldier interrupts. “FEDRA’s orders.”
Your brow creases. “FEDRA?”
“Federal Disaster Response Agency,” the strange-faced soldier answers.
“So the military is taking over?”
“I never said that.”
You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Just let me go, please? I can’t stay here, my family—”
“Is in Texas,” the soldier replies, nodding along. He hefts his gun slightly, adjusting his grip, and you don’t miss the meaning, the silent threat behind it. “And you’re here, in Boston. Now you don’t have a car, or any real weapons, and we have orders. You’re not going anywhere.”
You bite back the protest that crawls up your throat. If you’re getting out, it’s not through here. “Then where am I supposed to go?”
“There’s a shelter,” he tells you, “in the mall. There’s food, water, beds. It’s temporary, but it’s safe.”
“Temporary, like the gate?”
He gives you a long look, then gestures towards the tent you’ve been watching them shuffle people through. “Let’s get you checked out, and then we’ll get you there.”
You match his stare, setting your jaw, digging your heels in slightly. The muzzle of his rifle dips just slightly, and his eyes pinch, narrowing at you.
“I’ll only ask nicely once.”
Heart in your throat, you drop your hands, and when he gestures towards the tent again, you go. Every single part of you is shaking as you head for the canvas structure, and once you’re inside, it’s no different. It’s shockingly clean, a metal table in the middle, a smaller one to the side. “Put your bag there,” the soldier orders, that familiar stern military tone, pointing to the bigger table. “The bat, too.”
You do as you’re told, seeing from the corner of your eye that he’s still got both hands on his gun. “I’m keeping the bat,” you say over your shoulder, pulling it out from where you’d slid it between the straps of the bag, resting against your lower back. The metal rings when you set it on the table. “For the record.”
“Never said you couldn’t keep it, did I?”
“You want me to go to that shelter in the mall,” you say, sliding the bag off your shoulders, placing it next to the bat, and then turning back to the soldier, “with every other terrified person in this city, and you expect me to believe you’re gonna let me walk in with a weapon?”
The soldier’s jaw goes tight, eyes even tighter. “Strip.”
“Excuse me?”
“Take your clothes off,” he says, clearly getting exasperated. “I might let you keep the bat, but there’s no way I’m letting you into the mall shelter knowing you’ve been bitten. Strip.”
“Bitten?” you repeat, your mind sparking at the new information. “Is that how this is spreading?” To appease him, hoping he’ll give you a bit more information, you pull the hoodie off, disentangling your arms slowly. “That’s what’s turning people into those—”
The hoodie comes off, revealing your bandaged shoulder and forearm, and the gun is pointed back in your face again, a soft click reaching your ears. “You’re injured.”
“Y’know, I usually like to at least know a guy’s name before he sees me half-naked.”
He ignores you. “You’re injured.”
You heave a breath, tucking the edge of the gauze around your arm back into place. “You dropped bombs on this city. I dare you to find someone out there who isn’t injured.”
The soldier just stares at you. You just stare back.
“Take the bandages off,” he orders, and your hands curl into fists. “I need to see.”
“Tell me your name first,” you counter, still holding his gaze.
“This isn’t a negotiation.”
“I’m aware; you’re the one holding the gun. But I also know you’ve been taking bodies out of this tent more than you’ve been sending people to the shelter. So, again, tell me your name.”
He leans back slightly, takes a deep breath, eyes darting to the side before meeting yours again. “Corporal Nicholas Cowan, ma’am.”
“Ma’am?” you repeat, almost laughing. “That’s a bit much, but—”
“The bandages.”
“Okay, okay.”
Carefully, you peel back the gauze on your shoulder. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches or anything, and you’d slathered it with some kind of ointment in the first aid kit. It still looks pretty awful, and the tape along the edge of the bandage has left little indents in your skin, but it’s definitely healing. Your arm is next, that wound fresher, and it starts to bleed as soon as you pull the gauze away. Cowan gives you a new piece of gauze a moment later, tossing it onto the table between you rather than handing it right to you. “What happened?”
“I was in the bookstore, down on South Street, when you all decided to start dropping bombs. Fucking lucky a bookshelf didn’t fall on my head.”
He still has the gun pointed at you, though the grip is slightly more relaxed, and he circles you slowly, eyes glued to your shoulder. “Those look like claw marks.”
“That’s because they are.”
“So that happened before the bombs.”
“It did.”
“I’m supposed to shoot, the moment I see anything like that. I have orders.”
“It’s not a bite.”
“I know that.” He swallows so hard you can see his throat bob. “They haven’t figured it all out. The bite seems to make it happen faster, but I don’t know if—”
“I’ll tell you what, Corporal,” you interrupt, reaching for your bag, pulling the first aid kit out and fishing out new bandages, “I start to turn into one of those things, and I give you my full permission to blow my fucking brains out.” Cowan balks, his eyes widening for a moment as he stares back at you. “But for the record, it’s been seven days, and I’m still here, faculties intact. So, politely, go fuck yourself, and just let me through the gate.”
+
He doesn’t.
Cowan lets you redress, once your bandages have been hastily rewrapped; you’d protested and he told you they’d give you proper treatment at the shelter. Once that was done, you grabbed your pack — and the bat, which Cowan barely seemed to notice — and he grabbed you roughly by the arm, dragging you out of the tent and steering you towards one of the armoured trucks parked at the fence.
You’re all but stuffed inside, and Cowan gets into the passenger’s seat, a masked soldier behind the wheel. “The mall,” he says simply, and the soldier just nods, and the engine rumbles to life, pulling away from the chain link and heading back into the city.
You keep the bat in your lap as they drive, your eyes glued to the window, to the mess that now only partially resembles Boston. You’d seen enough of the destruction running through the streets, but the truck takes a few pathways you hadn’t. Some roads aren’t as destroyed, obviously not targeted by the bombs, and the asphalt is even, still intact. There’s no getting past the bodies, however, and that pulls your eyes away, staring down at your bruised and dirty hands, wrapped around the bat.
When the truck stops outside the mall, the driver doesn’t get out. You lift your head then, taking in the space around you. It’s more of the same, but the mall looks mostly undisturbed, except for the broken windows, the burned displays. Cowan slides out of the passenger’s side, pulls open your door a moment later. “Let’s go.”
There are three more soldiers standing at the entrance, and as Cowan starts to lead you through, one of them stops you, lifting a hand. “You can’t take that in there,” the soldier says, pointing to the bat. “Give it here.”
“No.”
Cowan sighs, turning back to you, waving off the soldier. “C’mon, just—”
“No,” you say again, your voice harder. “You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m walking around this city without it.”
“You’re safe in the mall,” Cowan says, nearly rolling his eyes at you, but you just lift a brow. “It’s a shelter, and we’re patrolling from the outside.” He points over his shoulder, and sure enough, you see a few more armoured trucks rolling across the street, armed soldiers trailing behind it. Like it makes a difference.
You almost laugh. “Nowhere is safe anymore.” You tighten your grip on the bat. “You really think your chain link fence is gonna save us from those things?”
He gives you another one of those hard stares, but relents, waving off the other soldiers and grabbing the handle on your bag, all but dragging you through the entrance. “If she attacks someone, it’s on you, Cowan!” one of the soldier’s shouts, and he just grumbles under his breath.
“Do me a favour,” he says to you as he releases you, making you stumble a step before he falls into step beside you, “don’t be more trouble than you’re worth.”
“And what am I worth, Corporal?”
“You’re alive, and you’re not one of them,” he says, and you don’t miss the thread of…is that hope, in his voice? “So that makes you worth something.”
He’s quiet, the rest of the way. There’s no electricity, the overhead fluorescents dark, and Cowan clicks on a flashlight, lighting your path deeper into the mall. There’s the whir of generators, as you get closer, big lights that looks like they were taken from construction sites. You see the food court has been turned into a makeshift hospital, and Cowan tells you the big department store on the main level is where you’ll sleep, for the time being.
There aren’t that many people, which makes your throat go a little thick. How many people have died, how many have turned, how many made it out of Boston before they put up the fence?
Cowan takes your arm again as you walk towards the food court, calling for someone as you get closer. “Deanna! I got one for you.”
An older lady, maybe late fifties, pokes her head out from behind one of the triage curtains. Her face is both kind and harsh at the same time, bright green eyes, grey-streaked hair pulled into a long ponytail, blood-stained scrubs and a tool belt around her waist that’s filled with medical instruments instead of actual tools. It almost makes you laugh.
“Must be special,” she says, her voice a little gravelly as she approaches you, wiping her hands on her pants. “You don’t usually escort them all the way down here, Nicky.” Her eyes drop to the bat in your hands and her brows raise. “Or let them come in armed.”
Once she’s close enough, Cowan releases you and takes Deanna by the arm, steering her off to the side. You stand there awkwardly, the bat banging against your leg. Your forearm is a little sore, and you’re half-sure it’s soaked through the bandages you’d haphazardly retied after Cowan’s inspection. You glance over at the pair a few times, seeing them both shooting you looks before turning back to each other. Deanna looks confused, then upset, then almost forgiving. You can’t quite figure out Cowan’s expression.
After a few minutes, she just nods, and Cowan turns on his heel, heading back in the direction you came, leaving you alone. Deanna gives you a once-over as she walks towards you again, putting a warm hand on your back and starting to steer you towards one of the curtains. “Let’s get you cleaned up, honey.”
She leads you behind one of the curtains, then another, and once you’re in the little makeshift room, she pulls another curtain into place. “Nicky said we need to be quick about this,” she says, leaning up on her toes to peer over the curtains, assumedly to see if anyone is coming. “And quiet.”
“Okay.”
You let her take your bag, set it on the chair that’s set to the side. You’re reluctant to let go of the bat, but when you finally let her take it, she puts it beside you on the cot. “You’ve been out there this whole time?” she asks, her voice just above a whisper. You nod. “Even the bombs?” Another nod. “Show me where you’re hurt.”
You hold your breath as you peel off the hoodie. You were right, your arm has bled through the bandage, and your shoulder aches with the movement. Deanna doesn’t say a word at first, her brow furrowed as she looks you over.
She tends to your arm first, wiping the blood from your skin, using some sort of glue to close the wound before she wraps it in fresh gauze. She circles you slowly, just like Cowan had, and you hear her sharp inhale when she sees your shoulder. “What have we here?” She wipes at more of the blood, and the sting makes you tense, your hand twitching towards the bat at your side. “What did that?”
“…boyfriend.”
You look over your shoulder to see her staring at you, a look that toes the line between sympathy and fear on her face. “Was he…”
You give a slight nod. “He was.”
“And is he…?”
“Not anymore.”
Her brows raise. “You did that?”
Another nod. “I did that.”
She blows out a breath, shaking her head side to side. “Damn, girl. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
It’s the first time you’ve actually laughed since your birthday.
They give you some clothes, stuff that actually fits, pilfered from one of the stores. Toiletries even, and you spend far too much time brushing your teeth. No showers, unfortunately, but the pack of baby wipes you’re offered instead makes up for it. It nearly makes you cry to see your skin clean of the dust and ash and blood.
They give you food, too. A grocery bag filled with non-perishables, more granola bars and cans of soup and whatnot. You try not to chug an entire bottle of water when they give you a second bag filled with drinks; not just water, but sports drinks, random cans of pop, clearly raided from the mall vending machines. And a hot meal, courtesy of one of the food court hot plates. It’s some kind of stew, noodles and meat and veggies, and for a moment, all you can think about is the Thai food that was waiting on your kitchen counter.
Feels like a lifetime ago.
Deanna walks you to the department store, gives your name to one of the soldier’s standing guard. He points you in the right direction, and she goes with you, a steady hand on your back, until you find the cot you’ve been assigned, tucked in the corner of the section where all the towels would have been, the displays still up on the walls. “We took them all already,” she tells you, giving you a half-grin as she picks up the blanket on your cot, unfolding the fabric. “Those extra-plush suckers make great bandages.”
You’re quiet, tucking your bag and your food and clothing under the cot. They’d refilled your first aid kit, too. Your knees are almost shaking as you lower yourself onto the edge of the bed, and the relief that washes over you is almost overwhelming. Tears spring in your eyes, but you don’t have the energy to wipe them away.
“Get some sleep, honey,” she tells you, and puts a soft hand on your shoulder as you slip sideways, collapsing onto the pillow. “You’ll be safe. Sleep as much as you need.”
She pulls the blankets over you, and it’s silly, but you clutch the bat to your chest. You’d wiped it down, too, cleaned the blood and dirt from the metal. Sleep takes hold as soon as you let your eyes close, and you pray no nightmares follow.
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scaredcrab · 2 months
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Macaque x Reader - Silly Vallentine
Promotional Disclaimer: This chapter is being posted here to promote the whole work on AO3! To read more chapters, go to the AO3 link, in fact, the new chapters will be posted there first!
✐ 1 Chapter summary: Overcome by boredom, Macaque goes for a walk on Valentine's Day and finds you. An event that turns out to be more amusing than expected.
✐ Category: Fluff; Hurt/Comfort; Cute; Slow Burn; Slow Romance; Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Reader-Insert; Touch-Starved; Cuddling & Snuggling; Foreign Reader; Gender-Neutral Pronouns; Humor; Mythology References; Not Beta Read.
Trigger Warning (for the whole work, not this chapter in particular): Angst; Blood and Violence; Trust Issues; Self-Esteem Issues; Self-Worth Issues; lots of issues; Xenophobia; Trauma; Swearing; Emotional Baggage; Emotional Hurt.
-✐-☾-✐-☾-✐-☾-✐-☾-✐-☾-✐-☾-✐-☾-
Chapter 1 - Valentine
This kind of celebration usually doesn't matter much to warriors dedicated only to fighting and revenge, there's no time to meet new people and to love if you're busy going after a hated acquaintance.
But that doesn't mean boredom can't knock on these people's doors.
A powerful monkey demon walks through a large city disguised as an ordinary human. The monotony of his hiding place had ended up irritating him, resulting in a stroll during "lovers day".
The tedium was enormous to make someone so reclusive go out on a day like this. Streets are full of commemorative decorations, mainly pink heart-shaped ornaments, and serenades with sweet music can be heard everywhere, even the sky looked rosier than usual, however what occupies the surroundings more than the color pink are couples laughing. 
Couples that make you want to throw up for being so clingy, many of them look like exaggerated caricatures of what a happy pair would look like. The demon even rolled his eyes when he heard some phrases from the loose lovebirds, sometimes having a good hearing is a nightmare.
"I'm scared, honey, what if I don't like the people at the party?" - A short girl passes by the monkey.
"Calm down, if you get nervous, we'll just get out of there. Trust me, we're in this together." - The other girl takes one of her partner's shoulders and speaks in a sweet, calm voice.
He stops in place, for a brief moment.
... Yeah, even though the concept of clingy couples was a little annoying, there was a part of him that held a certain... Interest. 
The idea of having someone who cares about your emotional and physical state, the idea of being appreciated, someone to give you attention and affection, someone to trust, all of this was somehow pleasant to imagine. A part of him really craved someone he could actually count on, someone that would actually choose to stay with him.
The warrior shook his head to get that unimportant feeling out of there. Is the holiday making him emotional? This is so pathetic. Like, come on, he had more fun things to do than that!
The biggest fun of being on the streets today is watching couples break up. Or to see people rejecting each other. Dramatic love situations filled with people with broken hearts, looking like over-the-top soap operas in real life. That was pure entertainment.
A rattling bell and the sound of hard material hitting the wall shows that someone has opened a door not far away with incredible brute force, the door in question being the door of a luxuriant restaurant.
"Wait! Come back! What did I do wrong, my little pudding?!" - A man cried while trying to reach a woman in a fancy dress.
"I've already made it clear to you that I hate it when you call me that. What were you thinking, showing up dressed like that in front of my entire family?" - She pointed with her index finger at the clown nose the man had on his face.
"I-I wanted to make your family have fun."
"You made everyone laugh at me! Laugh at us. You made me look like an idiot!"
Ooh, this was a good drama, an argument for a ridiculous reason. This gives a bunch of inspiration to an artist, stupid story scenarios becomes the perfect reference to fun scenes. The beauty and the clown, yeah, this could be the theme of a shadow play, a funny one. A few laughs escaped the demon's lips, so much suffering for such a stupid reason was a special comedy to watch.
Unfortunately for him, the pairing didn't take long to reconcile, returning to the restaurant's interior happily and holding hands.
He rolled his eyes at the scene, boredom returned and, so did his quest for entertainment. Maybe looking for fun outside the hideout wasn't such a good idea at all.
He looked at the restaurant through the front window, taking off his hood of his head, so it wouldn't get in the way of the view, inside there were several couples eating fancy dishes that looked delicious...
Ah yes, the second reason to go out today, the food.
The dishes had too many heart decorations for the Six Eared Macaque's taste, however, that didn't change how tasty they looked. Main courses full of meats and spices, a big variety of drinks and sugary desserts filled the space in every busy table.
If he sneaks into the shadows the right way, it won't be hard to get some good meals.
His belly growled.
"AaaAh! That was loud!" - He looked to the side and saw... You. - "Gosh, you scared me!"
Macaque jumped startled, he hadn't seen that a human had approached to look in the window too. A loud noise came from your belly almost as if it was competing with his stomach.
"Oh... You must be hungry. You also don't have a partner to eat a Valentine's Day food?" - Your hunger had reminded you of that scary noise that came from his tummy.
Macaque was starting to consider fleeing away from there, all he needs less now is boring small talk in the midst of invasion plans.
"Today there are various places offering special dishes for couples, but only for couples." - You keep talking even without hearing an answer from him. - "I'm alone too, so I understand the feeling of walking around without a partner, it makes us think about all the good food we're missing. I only left my house today to see everything decorated and pink, you know. I wanted to see the city transformed." 
/ Does this human get chatty when hungry, or are they just naturally annoying? /
After that thought, the belly of the two rumbled together, a synchronized noise, it sounded like a were a rehearsed trick.
"Argh! Those foods look so delicious! I would even pay someone to accompany me, pretending to be my partner."
/ Wait a minute, what did they just say? /
"Would you really pay someone to do something like that?" - An interest appeared behind the question.
"Of course, I really want the couples discounts and stuff." - You answered honestly without even thinking twice, it's a habit of yours that ends up putting you in complicated situations all the time.
A mischievous grin broke out on his face. 
He turned around and put a hand on your shoulder to have your attention just for him, you look into the eyes of the man who was holding you. - "Well, today is your lucky day! I am completely willing to cooperate with you in exchange for a good payment."
Now the human eyes stared at the man, the owner of those eyes carrying a certain nervousness within them. We all know that you shouldn't make deals with strangers, you know that very well yourself, but this is an opportunity to eat the exclusive foods that will only be available for today...
You took a good look at his figure to study his details, checking out the sparkle in his eyes, the charming smile, the beard that added the final touch to his attractive face. He wears clothes in nice colors that match each other, specifically dark red and black, his dark hair wasn't super tidy but wasn't tossed around either. The strands look very soft too, a strange urge to stroke the locks of hair haunted your head, but you held back. A man full of charisma stood before you.
You had to admit, he is hot. He is really hot, and he probably knows that (right?), so how expensive would that service be?
"... And how much would be a good payment in your opinion?"
He moved closer to your ear (a thing that made your whole body heat up and shiver) and using a seductive, soft voice, he whispered the value. Your brain melted hearing the voice while collapsed, listening to the number being said. God. The company of pretty men really was expensive.
He seemed to be delighted to see you shudder, to see you making such a shocked expression at the answer, a smug and satisfied smile graced his face. And honestly, this attitude only made you feel more silly feelings in your chest.
"My lord! This much just because you're handsome?!"
"Nice try, but flattering me isn't going to make me change the price I set."
"W-Wait! Let's talk a few things before accepting any price! Like, what places do you allow us to go? What couple things I can do with you? What are your personal boundaries? It wouldn't be fair to charge a specific amount without considering certain things."
The man stares at you intently for a few seconds like someone trying to see through dark glass, arms crossed defensively as he "scans" you up and down. He seemed to be searching for lies through the aura of your soul, or something like this.
"... Like a spoken contract? A kind of sacred agreement between us?" - You nodded with your head.
After thinking some more, Macaque started to say his limitations: No kisses. No hugs. No pet names. You're only allowed to walk holding hands (so you don't end up getting lost). 
On your turn to speak, you negotiate the places to visit: an elegant restaurant, a chocolate fondue stand and a cute cafe. These places had great deals for couples and unique Valentine's Day dishes.
/ Isn't that too much food for just one person? /
He had no idea how much food would fit in your stomach, but he could eat a lot himself, so he was getting a big prize. Caring for you was the least of his worries, so your final state at the end of the tour doesn't matter as long as he's well paid and well-fed. 
Being so demanding and limiting turned out to affect the final price of the deal, you would have to pay less to the fake boyfriend, but it was still a hefty price.
With everything settled, it was time to pay.
You looked in your wallet with a sad expression. - "Goodbye sweet money, I will never forget you."
When you were about to hand over the payment, you remembered a basic socialization step.
"Wait a minute! I don't know your name." - You held your money close to your chest, hesitating.
The monkey blinked in disbelief, processing the moment, of all suspicious things was it the lack of name that made you hesitate?
A light chuckle escaped from him. - "You can call me Mac. What about you?"
After revealing your name, you glared at the man as you slowly handed over the money, taking your time to say goodbye to the lost fortune. When he took the money from your hands, you made a thin little noise of suffering. Honestly, you're so exaggerated.
We can say that you're dumb too! Knowing each other's names isn't going to stop one from running off with the payment. Lucky for you, Macaque was starting to be entertained by the human innocence. Or would it be better to say stupidity instead of innocence?
Well, it doesn't matter, a fake date has begun.
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eideticallys · 9 months
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Loving Joel (And His Dad Jokes)
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pairing: joel miller x reader
summary: days like this make you realize how much loving joel makes everything worth it—even his stupid dad jokes.
genre: fluff
word count: 962
author's notes: in my mind, joel is happy and thriving. he's living his best life in jackson. and you're in for a treat because joel is very much happy in this fic & in love (with me). yup, have fun reading! also posted on ao3 (spencereids).
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MOST PEOPLE WHO KNOW OF JOEL MILLER WOULD SAY HE’S THIS BROODING, MYSTERIOUS, AND SCARY GUY. And they were right, mostly. Joel was someone you should be scared of. He is a fierce and ruthless protector of those he cares deeply for. He would stop at nothing. He’d do everything for his family.
At the beginning of your relationship—or when you only knew of him—Joel was someone you didn’t expect to fall for. He wasn’t your ideal man so to speak. But for some reason, despite your differences, both of you grew closer and then one day, you just woke up and realized that Joel Miller was the one for you.
And it seemed the feelings were mutual. 
As you got to know him, Joel was quite the polar opposite of his reputation once you had managed to thaw his hard exterior. He had this other side to him, all hidden from those who weren’t special to him. It made you feel giddy knowing someone as hardened by life as Joel is enamored by you—which wasn’t an easy feat. You’ve had your fair share of ups and downs. Love isn’t simple especially when the world fell apart a few years ago. But loving Joel has been nothing but worth it.  Waking up next to him, getting through the day, and falling asleep right next to him has made living better—like life was still worth fighting for because you had Joel.
You love him, and he loves you.
And you especially love his dad jokes, even if they were insufferable from time to time.
“It’s quite warm today,” You said to your lover as you descended the stairs of your home. “Do you wanna have a picnic or something?”
Joel, who was busy tinkering with his new woodwork project, which particularly looked a lot like you, or so you think, looked up at you. “That’d be nice, sweetheart. Do you wanna go now?”
You nodded as you placed a peck on his salt-and-pepper hair. “Maybe this afternoon,” You replied, heading straight for the bathroom. “I’m gonna go shower and then I’ll head over to Ellie and Dina’s, so I can invite them. Why don’t you go ask Tommy and Maria too?”
“Want me to join you?” Joel joked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“No, Joel.” You laughed as you threw him a dish towel, which he dodged easily as he was laughing now too. “If you’re joining me in the shower, we are never going to have that picnic!”
A few hours later, you were able to wrangle some bread and other snacks to take with you on your little picnic. Unfortunately, it was just you and Joel. Ellie and Dina had other plans, while Tommy and Maria had errands to do. But it was perfectly fine. You had a lot of time on your hands. A picnic in the future isn’t a farfetched plan for you to make.
“Jesus, I underestimated the heat today,” You claimed as you fanned your face. Joel was grinning at you as he looked like he thought of a joke you weren’t in on. “Care to share with the class, Mr. Miller?”
He simply shrugged and retorted, “Oh, it’s nothing, baby.”
“Out with it,” You nudged him. He shook his head no, to which you scowled teasingly. “Tell me!”
“Nope,” Joel snickered, pinching your cheek. “I’m not saying anything.”
You pouted and rolled your eyes. If he doesn’t want to tell you, then so be it. You were about to let go of the entire thing and dig into the food you laid out when the heat started becoming even more unbearable as if it were possible.
“Fine, don’t tell me anything,” You muttered. “But we’ve got to move over there. This heat is killing me.”
As you pointed to a bunch of trees where you could sit for shade, it’s like Joel could no longer hold back as he started guffawing, slapping his thigh in entertainment.
Oh, it’s that thing.
The thing in question was a pun he thought of. Real mature.
“Joel Miller!”  You exclaimed as you started laughing along with him. One thing about Joel’s smile is that it’s as infectious as it’s your favorite thing in the world. “You’re worse than Ellie. Do you know that?”
“No, I’m not!” He denied, still laughing. “I haven’t even told you the pun yet.”
“Fine, tell me.”
Trying to stifle his laughter, Joel wheezed before schooling his face to a neutral expression. “I don’t think we should head over there. I don’t trust those trees.” He stared at the trees.
You looked at him, perplexed as to why. As far as you know, Jackson was the safest place you could be in, and those trees looked nothing out of the ordinary.
“Why?” You asked, starting to worry. “What’s wrong?”
You can slowly see the mischievous grin forming on Joel’s face. 
They seem kind of shady.”
You groaned at him as Joel guffawed once again. You were starting to get looks from passersby as to what reduced the formidable Joel Miller while you were shaking your head.
“You’re so stupid,” You started chuckling. “Sometimes, I ask myself how can people take you seriously. Jesus, what was that pun?”
“It was funny!” Joel laughed, poking your side. “You even laughed.”
“I did because it was stupid.”
“That’s the point,” He retorted immediately. You rolled your eyes at him endearingly. “Puns are supposed to be so stupid that they’re funny.”
“You’re lucky I love you.” You responded immediately.
“Yes, ma’am,” Joel saluted. “I love you more.”
You smiled widely and landed a kiss on his stubbled cheek. Days like this make you realize how much loving Joel makes everything worth it—even his stupid dad jokes.
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dp-marvel94 · 3 months
Text
Sweet Reconciliation
Summary:
The last thing Danny expected was Phantom showing up at his front door and dragging him out for a day at the fair. He certainly didn’t want to hang out with 'Dan', much less trust him. But finding himself enjoying a day of rides and games? Sharing quips and food and heart-felt confessions? Maybe he and Dan have more in common than Danny realized.
Word Count: 9,217
Also on AO3
Notes:
It's finally here! I'm so excited to be posting my Valentine's Core Exchange. My giftee was @strawberry-avalanche . I went for a Danny & Dan centric fic, with some fluff, bonding, and redemption. I hope you enjoy this not-so-short story of Danny and Dan enjoying a day at the fair. Happy Reading! @valentines-core-exchange
Finally, it was a perfect Saturday, Danny thought. After all the chaos of time restructuring, his ghostly alter ego becoming number one on the most wanted list again, and learning how to help the ghosts instead of just fighting them, finally the half ghost had a day to himself. There was no one to bother him. His parents were out of town at a conference, his sister on a college tour. Vlad was out of his hair, busy with his new ward, a certain (formerly?) evil alternate Phantom. Best yet, he had plans with Sam and Tucker, an all day movie binge with all the popcorn and candy he could eat. Everything was absolutely perfect.
The boy bent down in his chair, tying his shoes to leave, when an insistent knocking came at the front door. 
His brow furrowed; his friends weren’t supposed to be meeting him here, were they?
Another knock came, this one more forceful.
Danny stood, calling. “I’m coming.” He hurried across the kitchen, a second later pulling the door open. “Weren’t we meeting at S-”
The boy blinked, cutting himself off in his confusion. There, on the other side of the door was… himself. Or at least, the figure looked like him. The other teen wore all black, gothic look complete with eye-liner and half a dozen ear piercings. And a familiar scowl.
With that last piece of the puzzle, the answer fell into place. “Phantom?” Danny’s mouth fell open.
“Actually, it’s Dan.” His double shrugged, still scowling.
“Dan…” The boy said slowly. Was this really happening?
The other teen, at least in appearance, didn’t acknowledge the word. Instead, his eyes flickered to the house behind. An odd look flashed in them for a second before a forcible disaffection shifted into place. “You’re not doing anything today, right? Good.”
That broke Danny out of his disbelieving stoop. He stood up straighter, eyes narrowed in distrust. “Actually, I was going to-”
A hand suddenly pulled him out the door, distracting him from his protest. “We’re going to the fair.”
Danny blinked once. “What?”
“The Fair.” Phantom said slowly, like he was stupid. “What, got cotton in your ears?”
“I heard you.” Danny pulled his hand away, arms crossing. “Why?”
The other rolled his eyes. “Vlad is driving me crazy. So I stole his credit card.” With a flash of sharp teeth, he swiped out said card. “I’m gonna eat all the disgusting greasy food I want, cheat at some carnival games, and ride the squirrel cages ‘til I throw up.”
“Have fun?” Danny’s nose scrunched; why exactly was ‘Dan’ telling him this? Not that he cared, on his one day off in months. With a head shake, he pointed back into the house. “Whatever. Knock yourself out. I’m gonna-”
“No you don’t.” Phantom grabbed his arm again. “You’re coming with me.”
The movement gave Danny pause. That hand wrapped around his bicep, the solid warmth of it… he knew that Vlad had stabilized Phantom in this timeline using a human clone of himself, making the figure in front of him a half ghost again. But actually seeing the reality in front of him was another thing entirely. And the demand…  “Why?”
The only answer was another eye-roll. Instead, Phantom started pulling Danny down the sidewalk. And the boy found himself following. He could keep arguing; a large part of him wanted to. He could even easily pull away – the other halfa’s grip wasn’t all that tight– but he didn’t resist. 
Instead, Danny followed his counterpart into the alley beside Fentonworks.
Hand still around his arm, familiar white rings appeared around the other’s waist. They spread, the warm light tickling Danny's skin in an eerie reflection of his own transforming light. He stiffened, watching.
His double changed, corpse blue skin replacing the human tone. Shoulder-length black hair flickered to white flames. Familiar icy blue eyes became blood red. 
Danny couldn’t help but flinch, the image playing behind his eyes, if in reverse. Cords of burning ecto energy binding him. A hellish warping of his own face, looming menacingly over him. Those same white rings, enfolding the figure into a smaller mirror image. So much worse than the towering monster -the nightmare of his enemy taking his place and hurting his loved ones.
The corpse-blue reflection filled his vision again. But now… they were truly eye to eye.
Phantom, teen-sized and equally scrawny, released him. His hard expression wavered for just a moment, brow furrowed, almost… remorseful. He stepped back. After a pause… 
“Well? Aren’t you going to ‘go ghost’?” The air quotes were audible, with more than a hint of derision. 
And yet, Danny felt his shoulders lowered ever so slightly, the anxious tamper of his heart easing. He summoned his own rings, turning into ghost form.
The two lifted from the ground, silently flying towards the fairgrounds. Danny followed his counterpart’s lead, eyes fixed on the back of the flaming head. The other ghost didn’t turn and look, gaze fixed on their destination. And that destination…
Soon, the colorful tents and rides rose into view. Music and laughter drifted through the air. Despite his swirling nerves, Danny couldn’t help the up-turned twitch of his lips.
“Here.” Phantom said gruffly, breaking Danny from his observation. The other half ghost pointed down, landing between two trailers. With a flash of light, he turned human again.
Danny did the same. A quick text to his friends to tell them where he was instead of handing out with them, and he was following his counterpart out of the fair employees’ parking lot and to the ticket counter. Phantom, surprisingly politely, bought two tickets. They passed through the gate, a cheery older woman giving the even-faced halfa a map. 
“Where to first?” Danny asked, hands in his pockets. He gave a deceptively casual shrug.
The other didn’t look up for a long moment, nose buried in the map. His brow wrinkled in contemplation, like this was the most important decision he’d ever make. 
Then, he pointed. “There. I need to see the biggest pumpkin in the state.”
Danny raised a brow, but he didn’t question. Wordlessly, he followed the other half ghost through the crowds and into a large white building. They passed through the door, the crowded barn smelling musty, of straw and barnyard animals. 
All the while, Phantom’s even severe expression didn’t change. Flat faced and silent, his eyes flitted over the giant pumpkins and watermelons. Slowly, he walked along the rows of painted gourds and prize-winning apples. Through the bee-keeping display. Passed the glass case holding someone’s grandma’s first place honey candy. 
Straw-floored pens held bleating lambs and wide-eyed calves. These didn’t crack that disaffected scowl. Nor the tiny piglets. Not even the fluffy baby chicks.
All the while, Danny’s stomach churned with conflict. Earlier he’d flippantly thought he didn’t care what ‘Dan’ did but that was a lie. Now his muscles pulled tense, ill at ease. His mind flickered back to the fight, to throwing down the thermos. The realization of how cruel, how unfair it would be to imprison the ghost in front of him again. 
And now… said ghost was watching a carton of eggs under heat lamps. Around him, small children pressed curious palms to the glass. 
Danny had decided not to lock Phantom up again. He’d chosen to give ‘Dan’ a second chance. He’d agreed to Vlad’s plan to help the other ghost. And he desperately hoped, desperately wanted to believe it was for the best. But… 
“Mommy! Chicky!” A little girl enthusiastically pointed at one egg sporting a tiny hole.
But… Danny certainly didn’t want to hang out with his counterpart. He remembered…. The graves, the rubble, the crazed laughter. The nightmares he’d had for months after seeing that ruined future. The twisted bodies, his own hands covered in blood, the world aflame.
And now, the author of that ruin was here. And frankly, Danny didn’t trust him. Of course he didn't. And here in public, around so many children…. The thought was making his stomach turn.
A finger gently tapped the glass of the incubator. Danny tensed, carefully eyeing the other half ghost. Power swirled in his core, ready to intervene if necessary.
“There you go.” The words were almost so low to be inaudible, spoken toward the glass, to the hatching egg. 
Danny’s energy stilled even so slightly. He watched his counterpart, head tilted. 
Phantom just stood there, watching. “Good job, little guy.” Something sparked in his eyes. Just the subtlest wrinkle of his brow, the twitch of his lips….
The other half ghost felt something in his loosen. Hardly even realizing it, he let out the breath he’d been holding.
Suddenly, the other’s head turned sharply. “What are you looking at?”
Just like that, the moment broke. Innocently, Danny raised his hands. “What’s next?” 
Phantom huffed, eyes narrowed. He whipped out the map, studying it again. “Pig races.” He answered curtly, turning and walking away without a look back. Of course, Danny followed.
Phantom demanded they find some pig races to watch, and they did. A short walk found the two at the sawdust covered track. Metal bleachers surrounded the arena, crowded with people. Tired parents with strollers, carrying bags of cotton candy and huge stuffed animals. An old couple, the husband in a trucker hat, the wife carrying an oversized bag. A few twenty somethings, scandalously eating pork barbeque in front of the pigs.
The two half ghosts managed a seat on the end of the bench, beside a little boy wearing a tiny plastic pig nose and vibrating with excitement.
“When are the piggys gonna race, Daddy?” The child bothered his father, who patiently showed him the time again. 
“One more minute.” The man ruffled his son’s hair. 
Just then, the sound of a trumpet sounded. The announcer swaggered into the center. “It’s Pig Racin’ Time!” The southern accent came on long and thick. “Good morning and welcome pig racing fans to the Hogway Speedway…”
With wide spread arms and charming enthusiasm, their host masterfully engaged the crowd. He introduced the racers, hogs punnifuly named after different Nascar drivers. The trumpet sounded again, the crowd shouting the name of their section’s chosen racer. And the pigs were off.
Danny watched his counterpart much more than the sprinting pigs. Phantom’s eyes followed the track, lips pressed closed and even. The expression was strange; it wasn’t that ‘Dan’ didn’t want to be there. It was like he was unsure…
“Hamica!” The little boy sitting to Phantom’s side shouted above the crowd. “Go Hamica!” The child jumped out of his seat. 
The sound swelled, the cheering and stomping shaking the benches. The little boy hopped up and down, small body carelessly slamming into Phantom in his excitement.
For just a moment, Danny’s breath caught again. Then….
“Number 10! Hamica Patrick wins!” The announcer shouted while the pigs gobbled up their prize of cheese doodles. 
“Our piggy won!” The little boy clapped. “She won! Did you see?” He turned to Phantom, starry eyes blind to the halfa’s tense posture. 
Wait. Why was the other half ghost tense?
The child continued. “She won! Everyone was cheering so loud and our piggy won.” 
“Yeah…” Phantom finally answered quietly, giving an almost sad shrug.
With that, the boy lowered his raised hands. “You weren’t cheering.” Lips pursed seriously; maybe he was picking up on the seeming-teen’s odd mode. “You havta cheer next race. Everyone's supposed ta cheer!”
Meanwhile the boy’s father was giving apologetic looks, trying to get his son’s attention back to the race. “The duck’s are going next. Don’t you want to see?”
The boy pointed at ‘Dan’ demandingly. “You havta cheer.”
“Alright, Alright.” Phantom put up his hands and… he smiled. “I’ll cheer.” 
Again, Danny felt like he was looking at an alternate reality. His counterpart was smiling. Not malicious or teasing. Nor mocking or crazed but…
“I’ll cheer. But…” That genuine smile cracked brighter. “You have to cheer even louder. So loud everyone’s eardrums bleed.”
Well… he was being a little macabre. But the little boy was laughing brightly all the same. 
And Phantom kept his word. “Oinkheart! You better run!” He did cheer, as loud and enthusiastic as any other pig racing fan.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Danny’s own even lips cracked into a smile. He cheered too, just as loud as Phantom.
The pigs races finished, the host announcing the next show while selling plastic pig noses and pooping pig keychains to the parents of excitable kids. Then a quick trip to the ATM and Phantom pulled Danny towards the fair games. 
“That one.” The black clad ghost’s eyes fixed on a wall of balloons. Various prizes including a five feet long stuffed shark hung from the stall.
Phantom handed over a few bills. He fingered the darts, carefully aiming with furrowed brow. He threw, the projectile sailing straight for its target. “Yes!” He cheered, only for the dart to harmlessly hit the balloon and fall. 
Danny frowned suspiciously, unintentionally mirroring the other half ghost. Still both said nothing. Instead, Phantom just threw the rest of his darts. One by one, each failed to pop a balloon.
“Come on.” Danny shook his head knowingly. “Let’s try another game.” Trust that the first one they try would be rigged.
“No.” Phantom grumbled, giving the attendant a few more bills. “I’m going to get it.”
Again, the seeming-teen carefully tested the aim of the dart, fixed on his target. Then… his gaze shifted for just a second, fixing on the other half ghost. His eyes flashed red, a purposeful smirk in them. Danny's brows furrowed in question.
The dart flew through the air, again harmlessly bouncing off the balloon and falling. Except this time, a second later the rubber sphere popped with a startling bang.
Danny flinched, shocked. For just a moment, a misty person-shaped outline wavered in front of the wall, a long clawed finger outstretched toward the balloon’s carcass.
Phantom smirked, self satisfied. Then his knees buckled.
Before he could register, Danny’s arms were wrapping around his counterpart’s shoulders, stabilizing the other half ghost.
“Is he okay?” The attendant asked, eyes wide with concern.
Was Phantom okay? He frowned down at the pale, shaky figure. His stomach flopped, feeling unbalanced. What was happening? 
Danny shook the unease away. “He’s fine. Just needs something to drink.”
The fair worker still looked worried, brows furrowed, but didn’t argue as Danny started pulling Phantom away.
“Wait. I won.” The other complained. “My shark.”
Danny gave him a dubious look but without a word, accepted the giant plushie from the worker. Holding the shark under one arm, he helped Phantom forward with the other. True to his excuse, he did steer them towards a truck selling lemonade. The two slid to the window, Danny handing over the money.
“I can stand by myself.” Phantom grumbled, just as the server handed over the two cups.
Unceremoniously, Danny unhanded his counterpart who ripped the shark from his grip. 
For a few minutes, the two silently shuffled forward, finally finding an empty bench. They sat, drinking their drinks. Phantom wouldn’t meet his eyes, head fixed down, almost as if embarrassed.
Finally, Danny broke the tense moment. “What was that about?”
The other seeming-teen looked up tentatively, almost sheepish, before shrugging forcibly casual. “I said I wanted to win at some carnival games. Don’t give me shit about it.”
Danny shook his head. “No. You almost fainted. Because you were, what, using a duplicate to cheat at balloon darts?”
“It’s not a big deal.” ‘Dan’ made a point of looking at his fingernails. “Just over did it. Stupid… I need to be more strategic next time.”
“Or just.. Not use your powers to cheat?” 
Phantom’s eyes narrowed. “I said not to give me crap.” His arms crossed, the perfect picture of a petulant teen. “It’s not like I started melting this time.”
Danny’s eyes popped wide. “That doesn’t make it any better!”
“Like you give a shit.” The other halfa sneered. “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague. I’m stuck here, shoved in this tiny, scrawny body. With all the hormones and the acne and my powers barely working. It’s like I actually am a kid again. The fruitloop keeps trying to act like he’s my dad now, making me go to therapy and shit.” His hands waved, pointing at Danny. “And you’re off, doing god knows what, playing the hero. Trying to completely forget about me.”
Danny’s mind spun, trying to process the onslaught. That last part… “Wait, that’s not-”
“This was a mistake.” Phantom stood abruptly. “I see how you keep tensing up whenever I do anything. Like I’m five seconds away from ripping everyone’s head off.” He grabbed his lemonade and stuffed shark. “I don’t know why I even bothered. I wanted to tell you, show you that I was-.” He growled, cutting himself off. “Go do what you want.” The half ghost turned, stomping off.
For a long second, Danny just stared after him, thoughts churning. The other’s figure grew farther and farther away. Then…
“Wait!” Danny’s mind clicked back into action. “Wait!” He jumped up, running after his counterpart. “Dan! Wait!” 
Within seconds, he caught up. “Dan.” And wasn’t that strange, using the name the other half ghost had given him for the first time. Danny shook away the thought. “Dan. I’m… I’m sorry.”
Phantom… Dan stopped walking, giving him a dubious look. “Yeah right.”
“No, I am sorry. You showed up at my house and dragged me here because you actually want to hang out with me, right?” 
Dan didn’t respond verbally, just gave the ‘you’re stupid’ look again. 
Danny didn’t let that cow him, instead forcing himself to continue. “You’re… you’re right, I have been ignoring you. And that’s not fair. I can’t even imagine why you want to spend time with me but…” The flickers of hurt in Dan’s face, the tension like… he was afraid of miss-stepping. Reasons churned in his head, nebulous and indistinct but so close to focus. His guts twisted; he wasn’t ready to face this, whatever this was. 
“But you do.” Danny continued. “And we’re here. So let’s buy some greasy food, ride some rides, and play more games. But no more cheating.” He pointed severely.
For just a moment, Dan’s hard expression softened, visibly letting out a breath. “Alright.” Then his eyes rolled, pointing back. “And yes more cheating.” The corner of his lip turned up. “I know for a fact you cheated at the spring carnival to get that stuffed bat for Sam.”
Danny stumbled over a response. That was true but…
“It’s not going to kill anyone.” 
Again Danny felt like he was hit in the head. The understanding, almost compassionate look Dan gave him…. It somehow wasn’t a joke. 
Danny couldn’t help but notice his stomach drop. Still, he rolled his own eyes. “I guess it won’t hurt.”
With that, the two went off to find more games. 
“How about this one?” Danny motioned to one stall, a line of water guns set up opposite a line of moving targets. 
Dan raised an appraising eyebrow. “How am I supposed to cheat at that?” He muttered.
The teen gave him a light elbow jab in response. “I’m sure you can figure it out.” His voice lowered conspiratorially. “Plus it’s Vlad’s money. Who cares how much we waste?”
Dan looked almost surprised. “You have a point.”
The pair bought two seats. They played several rounds, not winning once. 
“Come on!” Danny put up his hands. “It’s like half an inch away!” The dolphin-shaped racing marker smiled down mockingly, barely failing to reach the finish line. 
The fair worker shrugged helplessly. “So close but so far. I’m sure you’ll get it next time.”
Danny’s eyes narrowed. Oh yeah, next time for sure. Then again… if they gave it another go, maybe?
“I’m bored with this.” Dan interrupted his debating, pulling him off his seat by the back of his collar. “Oh. Those headphones look sweet.”
He marched up to a set of basketball hoops, set up fair behind a metal barrier. Sure enough, a pair of sleek black over-the-headphones hung from the side. 
“I see you eyeing these beauties.” The host’s voice projected. “Real Beats, would you believe it? Three shots to win them. Three in a row! Are you up to the challenge?” 
Dan’s eyes narrowed, wickedly smug. “Of course, I am.” 
The black-clad halfa handed over the money, receiving a ball. He stood in front of the line, lining up the shot. Again, his eyes flashed ever so subtly. And he threw. The ball sailed through the air. It bounced off the backboard. Then its edge hit the hoop and it wobbled, starting to fall out.
Danny’s shoulders fell, disappointed at the near shot.
Then, impossibly, the ball wobbled the other direction, falling neatly into the hoop. 
Danny’s mouth fell open. How was that possible?
The game’s host looked just as shocked for a moment. Then, schooling himself, he collected the ball. “Lucky shot.” He handed it back to Dan, who just wordlessly smirked.
The dark-clothed halfa lopped his second shot, then his third. Each landed perfectly. Suspiciously perfectly. 
“That’s three for the three.” The fair worker looked somewhere between stunned and suspicious. Still, he handed the headphones over.
Dan accepted the prize with a grin. “I guess I’m just lucky.” He had the audacity to shrugged casually, the movement in sharp contrast to the smugness radiating off of him.
Danny didn’t have it in him to begrudge the other half ghost his success though. The two walked off, in search of another game. 
They’d walked for about a minute, out of sight of the basketball stall and Danny couldn’t keep his surprise in anymore. “How did you do that?” He asked, almost awed.
“Just simple telekinesis.” This time, Dan’s shrug was legitimately casual. 
“Telekinesis? But…”
“Wait.” The seeming-teen stopped in his tracks, seeming to pick up on the other’s stunned confusion. “You can’t do telekinesis yet? How?” He turned to look at Danny, a mirror of his own confusion. “That’s as easy as breathing. How…” He chuckled. “How don’t you have that power yet?”
“Well, excuse me.” Danny frowned, hands on his hips; he didn’t appreciate being laughed at. “Not all of us have Plasmius’ powers and expertise downloaded right into our head.”
“What? No.” Somehow, Dan sounded even more stunned. “That’s not… Even if that was how that worked…” He looked almost… queasy saying the words. “Plasmius doesn’t have telekinesis.”
“But… yes he does.” Danny tried to argue. Vlad had definitely fought him with telekinesis before. Right?
“He can’t move things with his mind.” The other half ghost shook his head vehemently. “He’s never been able to. Not even now. I’ve tried to explain it a bunch of times.” He pointed severely. “And not out of the goodness of my heart. He wouldn’t stop annoying the shit out of me about how to do it…. And Vlad can’t do it.”
Danny blinked once, twice. “And… you’re serious. You’re not messing with me?”
“Not about this.” Dan rolled his eyes. With a quick look around, they flickered red again. An aura seeped out of his hands, surrounding the newly won headphones. “This telekinesis is one hundred percent Phantom.” The prize hovered off his palm ever so slightly, bathed in green light. 
The other half ghost studied the floating object. It was an impressive show, even more shocking that Vlad apparently couldn’t do it while Dan could so easily. Speaking of easily… Danny raised a brow, teasingly. “Maybe not one hundred percent Phantom. Since you’re not the only one, what with, Box Ghost, Lunch Lady, Technus-”
“Shut up.” Dan elbowed him, surprisingly gently, not a hint of malice in the words. “And I guess we’re not the only ones.”
Danny blinked once, surprised for just a moment. Then… “Oh right. I guess I’ll be able to do that at some point.”
Dan shrugged, the light around the headphones winking out as he caught them. “Want me to teach you?”
“Really?” The other half ghost asked, skeptical.
“Somehow you haven’t figured it out yet.” The other snarked back. Was he… blushing? “And how else are you supposed to cheat at fair games?”
For just a second there was the impulse to snark back; he still didn’t really want to cheat. But Dan was offering, authentically offering to teach him something. And Danny had said he was going to actually give this hanging out thing a shot
“Sure. I’d love it if you showed me how to do it.” Danny said, surprised at his own sincerity. 
Dan gave a nod. “Come on then.” He pulled the teen along, searching for an at least somewhat secluded place. After nearly ten minutes of looking… “This will do.”
They wedged between two stalls, the busy sound of fair goers waiting for food and workers calling out orders at their backs. The alley smelt of roasted turkey, cotton candy, and the sour tang of throw up. The perfect place for an impromptu lesson. 
“That’s going to be your target.” Dan pointed to an abandoned beer bottle. “First…”
After about ten minutes of unsuccessfully getting his younger counterpart to understand, Dan looked just about ready to pull out his hair. “No. You have to reach out. Like the power’s an extension of you.”
“Sorry, but that doesn’t make any sense.” Danny also wanted to pull out his hair.
“Okay, fine. Here. Let’s try this.” Dan grabbed his hand and-
“The fuck!” Danny just about screamed as his counterpart’s hand phased inside his. “What…” He panted, panic suddenly clawing at his throat. “Are you doing?!”
“Bad idea.” Dan was also panting, eyes blown wide. “Bad idea. Too late now.” He pinched red-flickering eyes closed. “We’re like three steps away from being the same person. I should be able to tell your core exactly what to do.”
“Okay?!” Still, Danny’s heart pounded, mind racing back. Dan’s hand, in chest. The solid gear clicking into place. Belittling laughter.
“I’m not…” Dan growled. “That’s not me anymore. I won’t hurt you.”
That was ridiculous. This was crazy. Why did he even agree to doing this? Any of this? Hanging out with Dan, learning from him? Just letting him wander around free?! Why did he trust him? He tried to trust him and this-
Like cold water rushing over him, heavy bricks falling. An immaterial wall shattered. Emotions flooded in. Pain, fear, guilt, regret. But not… not his.
Danny struggled to force his eyes open. When had he closed them?
Dan’s eyes, the same as his own, half a foot from his. They rounded, sincere, desperate. “I’m sorry. Just let me help….”
An exhale. There was a line that had been a solid wall. There was Danny and there was Dan. And Danny could see, he could feel over the line, into his counterpart’s self. The anger, the prickliness, the spite, the smugness. It was all a cover. A pathetic cover over the guilt, the fear, the regret, the pain. 
A small, tentative nudge at his own core. Comfort, reassurance. He was out of practice.
Danny looked away, at his right hand. The one uncannily possessed. His stomach lurched violently. “Do whatever it is you were going to do.”
“I’m trying!” Dan grit his teeth. “Stop fighting.”
Stop fighting? How was he supposed to-
A hand wrapped around his core, not crushing but… comfortably warm. Behind his eyes… 
Rain dripping down the windows, the world dark and gray. A huge, canopied bed. At his bedside, a picture of his family, the glass shattered.
“Danny?” A voice far away. “Danny?” He couldn’t will his head to lift, not after- 
“Danny?” The boy blinked and he was back in that smelly alley. Fingers snapped in front of his face. “Pay attention.” Eyes focused on… Dan. Right.
Wordlessly, Danny nodded. 
“Let’s get this over with.” His counterpart shook his head. His brow furrowed in concentration. And Danny felt his own core act.
Energy swirled around, flowing down to his fingertips and passed them. It stretched, ghostly fingers brushing the bottle. Then, as easy as moving his physical fingers, they wrapped around the target. The object lifted, eerily floating above the dirty ground. Gently it moved side and side of Dan’s volition. With hardly a shared thought, the black-clade half ghost gave over control. Roughly, Danny grabbed the bottle, setting it spinning in the air.
“Wow.” Danny gave a laugh. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
The other halfa rolled his eyes. “Try moving two things at once.”
The shared hand flexed, Dan guiding the movement while Danny acted. His telekinesis reached out, enwrapping a small pebble. It lifted, dipped, and spun. 
At the same time, the bottle dropped. Reaching out with his other physical hand, Danny felt his power stretch. He let out a sigh of relief, catching the object.
For a few more minutes, Danny flexed his new power. His aura wrapped around handfuls of trash, the pieces bobbing in the air. They spun around the pair. First slowly, then faster and faster. Like dirty little moons circling a planet. 
Slowly, a smile grew on Danny’s face. He was actually doing this! His eyes twinkled playfully, suddenly dropping all the trash.
“What? Already tired?” Dan asked. 
The other half ghost didn’t dignify the question. Instead, he jerkily pulled the shark into the air. He sent it in a slow circle around them. Closer and closer, all the while humming. 
“Is that the Jaws theme-”
Danny rammed the shark into his counterpart’s side. 
The plush snoot had Dan bending forward dramatically. His eyes narrowed. And Danny’s smile disappeared. Maybe that had been a step too far; he was getting too comfortable. Then…
Dan rolled his eyes. “Oh, you can effectively attack me with plushies. Color me impressed.” The words came out thick with sarcasm, not the least bit amused. But underneath…
A feeling like subdued laughter brushed Danny’s core. 
The smile wavered back into place. “You say that all serious but…” Just hint of a smirk. “You thought that was hilarious.”
“I did not.” Dan tried to deny. But standing side by side, core open to Danny’s prodding, he had no leg to stand on. “It’s this stupid teenage brain.” He lifted a hand pleadingly. “The meat suit thinks the dumbest things are funny. I’m…I’m a big scary grown up ghost, I swear!”
He sounded so desperate, it was almost funny. Danny struggled not to laugh. “Sure you are.”
For a moment more, Dan pouted, eyes trying to argue his point. Then… he huffed. “Fine. It was funny.” 
Effortlessly, he pulled his incorporeal hand out of Danny’s. The other half ghost shivered, feeling oddly bare as the background nose of Dan’s emotions faded away. 
Across from him, Dan’s arms were crossed, eyes fixed down.
Danny’s brow furrowed. What exactly was Dan’s deal? Flip flopping between emotions. He was snarking and joking one minute and then the next, clamming up and serious. He wanted to be having fun, and then admitting that he was enjoying himself the worst possible thing ever. Part of Danny was at a loss, at his wit’s end. How was he supposed to deal with this? 
But another part… the glimpses he caught from the other’s core. The anger and harshness, covering all that pain and guilt and grief. That made sense. How many times had Danny himself put on a brave face while he was hurting? 
There was another layer though. Uncertainty, insecurity, loneliness. 
So much there and Danny had no idea where to start, what he could say to help, to make it better. 
So he offered what comfort he could. “It’s okay if you thought it was funny, you know. It doesn’t mean you’re any less badass or terrifying or whatever.” He shrugged. “Plus, we’re here to have fun. Let yourself actually enjoy it.”
The other half ghost’s shoulders loosened. He looked up and… for a long moment, there was something heavy and serious in his eyes. His mouth opened and closed, chewing on the thought. Then….
“Al… alright then. Let’s go have some fun.” Dan finally said, seemingly letting the heavy words go, for now at least.
“Yeah.” Danny gave him a hearty pat on the back. “I saw one of those milk bottle toss games with a bunch of giant plushies. Wanna play that?”
“Sure.” Dan shrugged. Then pointedly. “And I expect you to use our lesson.”
“Of course.” Danny replied airly. “Can’t have you shoving your hand intangibly into me for nothing.”
“Again, I blame the teenage brain. You get forcibly de-aged and all the common sense goes out the window.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Danny waved him off. “You don’t see me complaining.”
“You haven’t been de-aged before, have you?” Dan raised a brow. 
“Well no, but…” He trailed off, at a loss for a response to the seeming-teen. Or rather, just teen. The thought almost knocked him off his feet…. Dan actually was his age again, wasn’t he?
“Thought so.” The other teen snorted, ignoring the odd look. Then pointing. “There’s your milk bottle toss.” He blinked. “What the hell is that?”
Danny’s brow furrowed, just as confused at the ambiguous giant stuffed animal. “A cat? Racoon? Maybe a red panda, except… you know, green?”
Dan rubbed his chin, deadpan serious. “Ah, the famed green cacooanda. Of course.”
That earned an appreciative snort from the other half ghost. “Nice.”
Despite his earlier sarcasm and resistance, Danny fully intended to use what Dan had taught him. A few telekinesis assisted ring tosses and he was walking away from the stand with his own green cacooanda. 
“I can’t believe it.” Dan said, dubious. “You actually did it.” He gave a scoff, his typical haughtiness as present as ever. But a twinkle in the corner of his eye…. Dan not-so-secretly looked proud. 
More games followed. Wack-a-mole. Skee-Ball. The Shooting Gallery. Darts. Ring the Bell. Even Duck Pond and Bingo. The pair hit up every one, until all the game hosts eyed the two suspiciously, muttering about calling security, much to Dan’s amusement.
“That was satisfying.” The black-clade teen smirked, carrying his collection of cheating-won spoils. “How ya feel about getting burgers?”
“Yeah.” Danny nodded. His eyes nervously flittered over the booth, still wary of being caught cheating. But… he smiled down at his own pair of headphones and the stuffed bear he planned to give to Jazz; his stomach leapt, giddy at the thrill. Slowly, he grinned. “There’s a bunch of stalls set up by local charities and stuff near the South Gate. The food’s normally good and not that pricey.”
“Awesome.” Dan agreed with a nod.
They grabbed lunch, sitting at one of the picnic tables in front of the impromptu restaurants. Neither really talked. Not that Danny minded. That had been the pattern for most of the morning and early afternoon, conversation revolving around what game to play next, which prizes either had their eyes on.
Now, Dan chewed his burger, the corner of his lip subtly lifted. At the same time, his eyes flitted from stall to stall, drifting over the crowds of people. People watching. Just the smallest hint of awe and curiosity flickered in his eyes.
Danny watched all this, his own lips quirking slightly.
Next came the rides. After a quick discussion about what to do with their prizes – they really should have waited until after to play the games – and finding a place to phase them into the ground for later, the two hurried to the midway. So many options stretched in front of them, Dan’s eyes practically shining with excitement. 
“We have to do the Gravitron first.” The black-clad teen pulled Danny through the crowds.
As they rounded the corner, the ride appeared before them. Danny could almost feel his eyes go heart-shaped. His heart picked up, airly giddy. It was shaped like a spaceship!
“Come on!” It was Danny’s turn to tug his counterpart onward. 
With fastpass bracelets, the two boarded the ride. Back against the padded wall, the boy grinned as the lights started flashing and everything started spinning. 
“Yeah! Woa!” People cheered and screamed as the ride rotated faster and faster. 
Without even a belt to hold him in place, Danny’s back pressed against the wall, the weight of gravity overwhelming. Suddenly, the panels slid up, the lady to his right shouting in surprise. The boy’s feet rose off the floor, body held in place solely by the centrifugal force. He just shouted louder.
Far too soon, the ride slowed, the panels slotting back into place and feet returning to the floor. The spinning gradually stopped and the force of gravity lessened to its normal weight. 
Danny’s ears rang slightly, balance wobbly and stomach churning; boy was he glad they hadn't pigged out on too much greasy food yet. Still, his heart pounded, a buzz with adrenaline. He grinned. “Let’s do that again!”
Ride again, they did. A second spin and then a third had Dan grinning with him, eager to try something else. 
“The drop tower?” The teen pointed. And the pair was rushing off again.
The tilt-a-whirl. An upside down swinging Pirate Ship. The Round-up, the Gravitron’s almost vertically spinning cousin. 
The two half ghosts took turns choosing which to ride next and excitedly pulling each other across the midway.
“What’s this one?” Danny pointed. “Music Express?”
“Looks kinda boring.” The other half ghost shrugged. “Let’s try it.” 
The cars formed a circle, alternating flat and sloped sections making the track look lop-sided. The two picked a car, Dan sliding in first. Danny sat beside him, the metal bar over their laps locking them into place. Again, music started and they were off.
The circle of cars rotated, first slowly and evenly. Honestly, indeed a little boring. Then…
“What wants to go faster?!” The operator yelled into the microphone. 
The riders screamed their agreement, the music speeding up. The cars spun faster. Laughter and shouts rang out; Danny’s screams joined the merry noise, caught up in the joy around him. 
Then, he slammed into Dan, his shout choking. The spinning force pulled him towards the center and right into his car-mate. His hip and shoulder dug into the other teen, Dan’s own enthusiastic shouting cutting out. The black-clad teen’s mouth snapped shut, face going beat red in mortification.
“Your.. your face!” Danny burst out laughing, unable to keep the amusement in.
Dan just wordlessly shoved Danny’s face away. 
The ride continued for a few more minutes, the rotation even reversing and sending the cars backwards. All the while, Danny laughed, a large part of him enjoying Dan’s discomfort. 
Finally, the music slowed, movement trickling to a stop. The ride over, Danny exited first. He offered his hand to help his counterpart out. 
“I guess this one’s on the no list, huh?” Danny asked, taking pity. 
Dan took the offered hand. “Nah. I want to go again.”
“Oh?” The other teen blinked once, surprised.
“Yes. You’re sitting on the inside next time.” His teeth flashed mischievously. 
“Guess I deserve that one.” Danny chuckled. 
Sure enough, they rode again, this time Danny suffering through being crushed by his seat companion. Dan laughed somewhat evilly all the while, reveling in the discomfort just as much as Danny had earlier.
Bumper cars. Three different mini-coasters. A few turns on the Racing Slide. A surprisingly disorienting house of mirrors, followed by a ridiculously lame “haunted house.” Even the good old carousel and ferris wheel. 
Conversation drifted, most trivial but some… almost serious.
The fairwheel ground to a stop, the pair hanging at the apex. “So… how does it work?” Danny asked, casually looking at his nails. 
Dan gave him a suspicious look. “How does what work?” 
“If you didn’t just download Vlad’s expertise…then how does it work?”
The other teen stiffened slightly, eyes fixed far away on the Amity Park skyline. “It’s mainly emotions. I mean, you and Vlad figured that out. Ghosts are made of emotions. And there’s… they’re not really memories, I guess. More like… the shape of them.” Slowly, the car started descending. “Like I watch football with Vlad… because he’s into it and won’t shut up about father-son bonding.” Dan narrowed his eyes pointedly. “And I find myself liking it.” He stuck out his tongue. “And the weird images of boring board rooms. And Maddie with long hair. It was so curly then, falling against her cheeks…” He grimaced. “Sometimes I really wish I hadn’t eaten Plasmius.” 
The words were so blunt, so casual; Danny choked on air. Dan ignored his hacking. “I mean… I think I would have just faded away if I hadn’t so…” He shrugged.
Danny blinked at him. What was he supposed to say to that? A response did niggle at his mind though…and to his horror, the question slipped out. “What did he… taste like?” 
“The grossest cheese ever.”
Danny and Dan enjoyed all the rides the fair had to offer, the afternoon gradually giving way to evening. The sun set, the warmth of the day becoming the chill of night. The lines grew longer, teens and young adults piling in to enjoy the bright lights and music. Still, the two were unbothered by the waits, thanks to their blessed fastpasses. 
The night stretched on, every ride enjoyed to the two teens’ hearts’ content. And finally…
“The squirrel cages.” Dan spread his arms, practically beaming up at the towering mess of metal. “Saving the best for last.” 
“Yes!” Danny’s stomach leapt, queasily excited. 
They boarded one of the odd, apostrophe-shaped cars. The plush bench sat under them, metal bars and mesh cradling the two riders. The center, oblong frame creaked, beginning to spin. The car rose into the air, swinging. 
The sound of more people being loaded onto the ride rang out below. Danny held his breath in anticipation. Any second now…
A sudden jolt of movement. Beside him, Dan gasped. 
The center rotated, the cage swaying violently. Rising higher and higher in the air. Danny’s heart fluttered. They reached the top… A burst of speed and everything spun. Both boys screamed, the cage flipping end over end. 
A flurry of movement, the world turning. The inky-black sky flashed into view, then the thousand glittering lights of the fair loomed below. The sky, the ground, the sky, the ground. The scene flickered. On and on. 
Screams reverberated, terrified and elated. Weight shifted, the car turning and flipping. Danny’s heart pounded, his stomach in his throat.
Far too soon, the ride ended. Danny looked over at his counterpart, both’s eyes blown wide. “Go again?”
Dan nodded eagerly. 
They rode again. And again. And again. 
Head over heels, the world turned in flashes of light and dark. Danny’s ears rang, shouts and cheers filling his brain. His head swam. Pressed side by side with Dan, hands grasps to the bars over the door. His veins filled with more adrenaline than blood. In every molecule… terror, giddiness, elation. 
The joy bubbled up, first in a smile. A grin. A shout. A laugh. The cackle burst out, unrestrained. Beside him, Dan’s guffaws rang in kind. The laughter filled his world, his mind. Dan’s laugh and his… they were the same laugh, but also so different. Chests and shoulders shook, the delight too much to hold. 
The two half ghosts laughed and laughed and laughed. 
They laughed until they couldn’t breathe. Until the ride stopped and both stumbled out of the car. Until Danny, one arm around the other’s shoulders, helped a green-faced, wobbling Dan past the ride operator and the line of waiting riders, and the other teen threw up on his shoes. 
“Stupid clone body.” Dan complained without heat, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“That’s just being human.” Danny laughed. 
“Well, can my body not?” He rolled his eyes, the orbs still sparkling with mirth. “Eating and sleeping are great, really, but I could do without the ability to vomit.”
“Hey, you’re doing better than my first time. You lasted for more than one ride.” The other half ghost shrugged, the movement bringing his counterpart just the tiniest bit closer. “When we went to the fair when I was eleven, I was finally tall enough. I begged to ride. Jazz and Mom absolutely refused, the chickens. But Dad rode with me. It was the best thing ever. We flipped so many times.” His speech grew faster with his excitement. “I was so dizzy after. Stumbling around like I’d just drunk a six-pack. I wobbled up to Jazz, told her she was a chicken and missed the best ride ever and…” A snort burst forth, threatening to choke his words. “I threw up all over her! I’d eaten so much cotton candy before, it was bright blue! And little bits of popcorn and hotdogs.” Danny held his stomach with one arm. “You should have seen her face.” He giggled lost in the memory, in the lingering adrenaline rush. 
Beside him, Dan shook his head in amusement. “I remember. I was there.”
“Yeah.” Danny laughed. “I guess you were… there.” He trailed off, the meaning finally hitting him. Eyes trailing over, to his counterpart’s face. Similar to his, not just because the human body was a clone, but… “I guess you were.” 
Something shifted between the two, in that meeting of eyes. An unspoken understanding lingered. That heaviness that had flashed in Dan’s eyes, right after their lesson…. It leered, visible but not weighty. 
“Come on.” Danny finally offered, smile gentle. “You wanted to eat a bunch of greasy food today. Think your stomach is up to it?”
“Of course.” The other flashed his teeth playfully.
The two weaved through the midway, away from crowded rides. They passed tens of food stalls, visiting at least a half dozen for all the staples. Cotton Candy, Kettle Corn, Candy Apples. They got the best ice cream from a local farm’s stand and incredible homemade pumpkin fudge. And so much fried food- a red-velvet funnel cake, corn dogs, fried pickles, bacon-wrapped fried Reeses’, and the famed, delectable fried oreos. 
With their haul, they walked past the fairy-light lit garden displays, plants of all shapes and sizes swaying in the breeze. Clangs sounded from the old-fashioned blacksmith’s shop, curious onlookers’ faces lit by the fire light. A bluegrass band played on the lawn to ground-shaking stomps and cheers.
“This looks like a good spot.” Danny motioned. 
They’d wandered to an empty spot on the grass, near the pond at the edge of the fairgrounds. Dan gave a nod, carefully putting down his portion of the food.
And so the two teens sat and ate. Lights flickered on the water. At their backs, music spun. Fiddle and mandolin sang, soft and slow in some kind of lullaby.  
The quiet weighed but… not heavy, not oppressive. It encompassed, gentle and protective, like a blanket. Dan ate slowly, unhurried. His eyes drifted over the lake, gaze on the gentle lapping water. But his mind was elsewhere.
And Danny watched his companion. Not tense and distrusting as before but patient, ready to talk when Dan needed.
The lullaby ended to cheers. The sound petered out, the set ending. The murmurs of the crowd ebbed away. 
The wind picked up, movement catching Danny’s eye. At the other side of the pond, the trees swayed. Needles and pine cones ruffled, falling to the water with tiny plops. 
“Do you really think I’m terrifying?” Dan finally broke the silence.
Danny turned, eyes wide. Of all the questions to ask, he hadn’t been expecting that. “Why do you ask?” He swallowed, eyes darting away evasively.
“Earlier…you said having fun doesn’t make me any less terrifying or whatever. But that’s not…” Dan looked down, picking at his nails. “I don’t care about being scary. I don’t… I don’t wanna be like that. That’s not why… I don’t deserve… that’s not…” He stumbled over the words, finally gritting out. “Just answer the question.”
For just a second, Danny’s stomach twisted; his impulse was to lie. But… back in the alley, his core brushing Dan’s. A door opened between them. And… a door, once opened, may be walked through from either side.
He couldn’t lie, not about this.
Danny swallowed, nodding. “After I saw your future and the CAT and everything… I had so many nightmares. Mostly about you escaping.” The evil laughter, terror on his friend’s faces, Amity Park in rubble. He’d wake up sweating, heart pounding and ecto-blast in hand. Ready to defend. Now… his mouth felt dry, an odd feeling squeezing his core. “Those went on for months.”
“And then it happened.” Dan’s knees pulled his chest, eyes wide, haunted, and… guilty.
Numbly, Danny nodded. It had. He remembered; the rubble, the cries for help, the flames. He shivered. That reality had been erased. Clockwork fixed the timeline, like he had the first time. But it still happened. The monster from his nightmares returned, more powerful and dangerous than ever. And now….
His eyes focused. On the boy sitting across from him. That monster was here and… he wasn’t a monster at all.
And that was the hardest part. The Phantom as evil incarnate. As a twisted, unfeeling abomination. That was easy. But this Phantom? This oddly human reflection….
“I’m sorry.” Danny found himself saying. 
Dan looked up at that, blinking at him startledly. “Why the hell are you sorry?”
In a less somber setting, he might have laughed but now, Danny just shook his head. “After the CAT, I kept telling myself that I promised I’d never be like…like you.” The odd feeling squeezed again, something like guilt. “I’d never let that happen. Because… because I promised.” His head fixed down, gnawing on his lip. “Because I was stronger. I knew better now. I was better. I was… I was different somehow. But that’s… that’s a lie.” He forced his gaze back up, focused on the wide-eyed boy in front of him. “We’re… three steps from being the same person. If things had been different…”
The rain, the bed, the shattered picture frame…. That terrible scene from Dan’s memory. It was so easy to imagine that as his reality. Losing everything, his life destroyed… A twist of fate and their places could have been swapped. 
“So… I’m sorry. I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m sorry that you lost everything and that you’re stuck here. And having to deal with being 16 again and Vlad thinking he’s your dad. And…” Danny wrung his hands. “I’m sorry that I forgot…”
After the fight, when he’d thrown down the thermos, he’d realized, he’d seen it. That Phantom was hurting, in pain. That he was still just a grieving kid. But in the months since, he’d lost sight of that. “I’m sorry that I forgot you’re a person too. I forgot who you really are.”
Dan stared at him for a long moment, brow wrinkled. His mouth opened and closed a few times. Then… “You are so stupid.” Somehow, no heat was in the words. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be saying sorry. I’m supposed to be groveling, on my knees, begging. I…I destroyed the world, Danny.” His voice started to tremble. “I killed so many people. Maimed so many ghosts. Tried to kill Valerie, my only friend, so many times. I…I tried to kill Mom and Dad.” His eyes shone, taking on a glassy sheen. “Jazz, Sam and Tucker. I tried to kill all of them twice. Twice. And…” His face paled, almost queasy. “I am horrified. I am disgusted. I… It makes me sick. I hate… I hate what I did. I hate who I was. And…” Finally, tears started falling. “I don’t deserve any… any of this. I definitely don’t deserve you saying sorry to me. You… you idiot. You’re too good for your own good. And I’m… I’m just…”
Dan stuttered to a stop, words choking as he furiously whipped at his face. 
And it was Danny’s turn to stare stunned. What could he say to that? Nothing was good enough. Nothing would ever be good enough. By all accounts, Dan had done horrible things, unforgivable things. Danny had every reason to still hate and fear him. No reason at all to offer forgiveness or sympathy. But…
The empathy was there, twisting Danny’s heart into knots. Somehow, he understood. Far too well.
“Do you want a hug?” The question slipped out before Danny really considered it.
Dan, apparently completely stunned, nodded immediately.
What he’d asked hit Danny just as the response came. For a moment, he mentally berated himself; what a stupid thing to ask. Dan didn’t actually want a hug. And what was he doing trying to comfort his formerly evil, formerly older alternative self? But then again…
Danny’s resolve crumbled. He leaned over, wrapping his arms around Dan’s shoulders.
The breath-hitching sob caught Danny off guard. Dan letting his walls crumble in front of him had been unbelievable just this morning. But after the rides and games, sharing quips and food and heart-felt truths…. Now it all made sense.
The pair sat for a long time, Danny hugging his counterpart. Dan’s shoulders shook, hands balled in the back of his jacket. Tears wet his shirt. And the only sounds were his own heartbeat, Dan’s pounding right next to his. And the dark-clad teen’s soft cries. 
Gradually though, the tears slowed. The sobs quieted. The shaking stopped. Breathing slowed and evened. 
Taking a deep breath, Dan pulled away. “I… Sorry.” His face burned red, embarrassed. “That isn’t… I didn’t want to break down on you.”
“It’s okay.” Danny shook his head. “Maybe it didn’t go how you wanted. But this is why you wanted to hang out with me, right? To apologize, getting everything out in the open.”
The other half ghost nodded. “And show you that I’m…I’m different.” He wiped his eyes. “I’m trying to be better.”
“I can see that.” The skin around his eyes crinkled, dawning smile genuine. 
And Danny meant it. In a dozen little ways today, he’d witnessed it. This Dan was a far cry from the Phantom he’d fought all those months ago.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Dan gave a watery smile. 
Just then, a loud boom cut that air. Lights flashed in the sky. Fireworks above the pond. 
“Look at that.” Dan’s eyes widened, voice breathlessly awed.
The two sat, side by side watching the fireworks. Sparks danced across the sky, spheres and swirls and spirals of every color.
And Danny could never have been happier he opened that door and let Dan drag him here. He didn’t know what the future held for them, where exactly his and Dan’s relationship stood; were they friends now? Family? But… 
“Cotton Candy?” His counterpart offered, holding open the bag.
“Sure.” Danny nodded, taking the last handful.
There had been tears and apologies. A release of tension and fear and bitterness. New discoveries made and old similarities uncovered.
Danny tore the piece of floss in half, giving Dan back the other piece. 
And most importantly, the incredible chance to start again.
Dan accepted with a nod and a smile. “Thanks. For everything.” 
Reconciliation was indeed sweet. 
58 notes · View notes
nat-20s · 3 months
Text
mini-fic time!!!
(all of these r also posted on ao3 lol)
Donna and The Doctor share a discussion about Christmas
~*~
It’s during one of their many little late night chats that the subject comes up. It even happens organically, Donna noting the soft glow of the fairy lights pinned about that were, technically speaking, Christmas lights, and how the entire family had apparently conceded to this being a year round fixture. Of course, instead of focusing on the noble-temple-mott-doctor clan’s terrible consistency with interior decorating, the Doctor throws on a downright cheeky grin and asks, “So. You still hate Christmas?”
She knows the answer he’s expecting. After all, this year’s event was, perhaps, ‘lovely” and ‘joyful’ and ‘bringing tears to her eyes a few times, don’t mention it’. But. Still. Eh?She grimaces and sucks in a breath through her teeth, which is enough for The Doctor to throw the non-mug holding arm in the air and ask slightly too loud, “Seriously?”
Donna shrugs and hides her face behind her mug. “I mean…”
The Doctor blinks at her a few times, and as she has no desire to provide further details, he replies, “Huh. Really? Ialways sort of assumed that, well. You didn’t like Christmas because you had mostly bad ones?”
“What, no.I had loadsof happy Christmases. Hell, there was a good ten years where it was the only day me and mum were actually nice to each other. I just don’t really care for it. I mean, sure, there’s...parts I like, I guess. I like the lights, some of the songs are okayish, and don’t get me wrong, I have loads of fun getting to spoil Rose rotten each year but. I dunno, it’s all a bit, ugh,you know?”
When she gets a downright agog expression in exchange for her statement, she can’t help but snort. “Why the hell do you even care? I can’t imagine that Time Lords are all that arsed about Christianity, and, by the way, if you tell me that you were Christ, I’m gonna tell you fuck off, no you weren’t.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Obviously.”
“Was one of the disciples though.”
“Fuck off, no you weren’t.”
The Doctor stares at her very, very intensely, giving away nothing. For all of about 3 seconds, when his nose wrinkles up in amusement and he waves a hand. “No, I wasn’t. I’m not sure I even know all their names. Think I have some reindeer mixed up with them. On Dasher, on Dancer, on Donny, on Simon, or something like that.”
Donna manages to just roll her eyes rather than enjoy the goof, because he is derailing the conversation, again. “So my point stands. What’s your big thing about Christmas?”
After a hum and a shrug, The Doctor replies, “Oh, it’s not just Christmas. Purim, Holi, Lunar New Year, hell, I adore a good Arbor Day.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s..”
The Doctor looks to the side for a second, in that non-targeted way that Donna knows means he’s trying to remember something. She takes a sip from her cocoa and practices some of her hard won patience.
With a soft hum, The Doctor finally comes back to the present and tells her, “It’s not that Gallifrey never had holidays, of sorts. But they were all very traditional and very serious and very dour. It was all ceremony and diligence and respect, not,” he nods towards the Christmas tree, “fairy lights and colored powders and silly costumes.”
Grinning now, he continues, “You know, in all the lifetimes I’ve lived and all the species I’ve met, humans are utterly unparalleled in their ability to have fun. For all your lots’ faults, of which there are many-”
“-yes, thank you-”
“-nobody celebrates like a human. Any excuse, even the basic, or, ah, often not so basic, act of survival, and you’ll start singing and eating and dancing. You have such a capacity for joy it will leak from you. Happy crying, who the hell does that?”
“Hold on, I’ve seen you do that. Three times in as many days when you first got here.”
Tilting his head in acknowledgment, he counters, “Ah, but that’s only because of the company I keep. Your laughter is infectious, literally, in the year 16,000 it gets classified as a dangerous contagion.I mean, honestly, you lot could make a Dalek snicker. It’s...it’s incredible. There’s genuinely like nothing else in the universe, and, well, I can’t help but be charmed by Christmas as a small sliver of all that relentless joy.”
After a half second pause, he adds, “Plus, yes, the lights are quite pretty.”
Donna can’t quite contain a smile, replying, “I suppose I could see the appeal of it. Through that lens.”
The Doctor grins back at her, and they let themselves sit in a companionable silence. After a minute of simply letting themselves be, and polishing off the last dregs of their cocoa, Donna tells him, “Still can’t fucking stand ‘Wonderful Christmastime’ though.”
Hearing the burst of laughter that comes from The Doctor, Donna can’t help but silently agree with him. She thinks it’s not so bad being infectious, when that infection is joy.
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