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spaceclefairy · 2 days

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Keep that Coffee Hot

You, a bounty agent. The Ghoul, a bounty hunter. The Ghoul needs to cash in on his most recent job and ends up with more than the contract promised.

When the Ghoul walks through the front door of your office, you know he's here for one of two things: a contract or a cashout. This no-name wasteland town is little more than a hub for the bounty agencies, so you get rough characters milling in and out of town all the time, but no one can clear a street quite like this Ghoul. You always know when he's back in town - the few people milling about scatter, and even the other bounty hunters coming through make themselves scarce. Even in the middle of a wasteland, he somehow makes the place even more desolate with his just presence alone.

You don't mind the Ghoul, personally. Dealing with him is part of your job, after all - you're a bounty agent, he's a bounty hunter. You manage the contracts, he hunts the target, you give the payout when he's done. Easy-peasy. He's intimidating, sure, and dangerous, but he's always been all business with you, and he’s damn good for business.

And if he’s a little flirty sometimes, well, you don’t mind.

This time when the Ghoul struts through your door, he’s dusty from the wasteland outside and carrying a grimy, drippy leather bag in hand. The leather bag squelches faintly as whatever's inside shifts around, dripping brownish liquid on the scrubbed wooden floor. He greets you in his usual way, with a howdy and a sugary darlin’, and plonks the bag down on your desk, goo oozing out from the seams.

“Howdy, Coop,” you greet, eying the bag with glee. As you drag it over to you, it leaves a snail-trail of ick on the wood, staining it further. You peer into the bag and confirm it's the correct bounty in your contract.

“One mutant heart, as requested,” the Ghoul says. He watches you with a faint amused smile. “Never brought the bounty straight to the agent before.”

You dump the faintly-pulsing mutant heart out on the desk. It’s overly large - much larger than a normal human’s - and gray-brown, and it spurts little gushes of blood when you poke it, so you know it’s still fresh. You’re surprised it’s still working, but that’s why you paid for the Ghoul: he gets things done quickly.

“That's because I'm the client this time.”

“Aw, you asked for me?” the Ghoul teases, only a little derisively, grinning at you. “That’s sweet.”

You roll your eyes. “I didn't ask for you - I gave the contract straight to you.”

“Straight to little ol’ me, huh?” he grins, resting his elbows on top of your desk.

Anyone else would have been shot for getting this close to you and your contract book, but you’ve always had a little bit of a soft spot for this Ghoul. It might be the flirting swaying your judgment. It might be that he’s actually fairly polite when he comes in - for a bounty hunter anyway. Regardless, you can’t deny you let him get away with more than you let the others who come in for payout.

“That’s what I said, Cooper,” you say as you duck down under your desk to retrieve a sack of caps from the safe and a case stocked with chems and rad-away. “You’re expensive, but you’re worth it. And I needed that done quickly.”

The Ghoul gestures down at the faintly thumping heart. “What’d you want with that guy anyway?”

“Ex-boyfriend.”

“Explains why you wanted his heart in a bag,” the Ghoul comments. He sounds vaguely impressed. “Your ex-boyfriend was a mutant with two heads.”

“Four heads if you count the two below the belt,” you reply. You hand the Ghoul the bag of caps first and the case full of chems second. “Here's your payout and a bonus for quick work.”

The Ghoul opens the case slightly and snaps it shut, apparently pleased by the way his non-existent eyebrows raise. He shoves the bag of caps and case into his shoulder bag and slings it back over his shoulder. “Much appreciated. You got anything else for me to do?”

“Plenty. Let me check the contract log.”

You reach for your book to check, but he stops you by dragging the book over to him. Truly, anyone else would have been shot. Not him. He flips open a page and runs a gloved finger down the crease in the spine, pretending to read whatever’s on the page.

The Ghoul glances up at you. “Are you in the contract log?”

You meet his gaze, eyebrows raised. “Are you telling me you want to do me, Cooper?”

“Sure am, darlin’.”

You lean back in your chair, eyeing the Ghoul where he stands. You’ve always liked his eyes. It’s the only part of him left that looks like there’s still humanity to him.

The Ghoul steps back. “But, if a ghoul’s not really your thing…”

“Didn’t say that.”

“Then what do you say?”

You pause, pretending to think, but you don’t really have to think about it. “Sure, why not?”

“You got a backroom or somethin’ or we just movin’ your book out of the way?”

You nod towards the door behind you, not that you’d be opposed to just fucking him here in the middle of your office. “Yeah, I got a backroom.”

Said backroom constitutes little more than a spare desk and chair with a window, but that’s really all you’ll need. There are no curtains for the window, so whoever walks by is going to get an eyeful of what’s going on if they peek in at the wrong time. You don’t particularly care, and the Ghoul surely doesn’t.

The hat and duster stay put as the Ghoul backs you up against the desk. He’s only a bit taller than you, but his presence takes up the remainder of the tiny, boiling hot room. The hollow, pitted flesh of his face appears raw and red, but his eyes are pretty and alert. His lips are dry and smooth against yours, raw like the rest of his skin. You don’t mind - there’s no room to be picky out in this wasteland town.

You’re not sure how he’s not miserable in the heat of the tiny room, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. In any case, you drag him closer by his belt, fisting your hand in his duster.

The Ghoul kisses you again, then strips off one of his leather gloves with his teeth and tosses it on the desk behind you. “Guess a ghoul is a step up from a mutant, at least?”

You yank his belt open and shimmy his pants down over his hips - he doesn’t let you get them down any farther. “I like ghouls.”

“Well, then, you’re a fuckin’ weirdo, ain’t ya?”

You slide down the side of the desk and hit your knees, your back pressed against the creaking wood. “Works out well for you, doesn’t it, Coop?”

His still-gloved hand wraps around the back of your neck, the leather sticking to your skin in the heat. “Sure does, darlin’.”

You take his exposed cock in hand and lick him root to tip, grinning at the hiss he gives you. His hand tightens around the back of your neck, catching in your hair. He looms over you, his unoccupied hand planted on the desk, blacking out the sides of your vision with his duster. You slide your hand down around the base of his cock and inch your lips down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks out, and he groans, low and slow, hips twitching like he's fighting the urge to just bury himself in your throat. You look up at him, wrapping your tongue around the tip of his cock, and his eyes are dark deep in the hollows of his eye sockets.

He doesn't tolerate your teasing long. No, he tangles his hand in your hair and presses himself deep down your throat until your nose is flush with his skin. You gag around him, and he grins, pulling out and thrusting back in so you'll gag on him again.

“That's it,” the Ghoul says, teetering right on the edge of breathlessness, “you take it so well.”

You punctuate his words by scraping your teeth down his shaft, which he seems to like by the way he slams himself down your throat. Your eyes water, and you can feel the tears rolling down your face as surely as you can feel sweat snaking through your hair.

“Look so good on your knees for me,” he says, threading his fingers through your hair. He catches your chin with his ungloved hand, tilting your face up with his cock still in your mouth. His thumb swipes through the tears staining your face. “Pretty as a picture.”

The backroom is only getting hotter the longer you're stuck on your knees, clothed and trapped underneath the Ghoul’s duster with him. You're sure you're soaking through your clothes by now. Your hand snakes down to undo your top and pants so you can get some relief from the heat. It doesn’t help much, but it’s enough to keep your head from swimming.

The Ghoul takes that as an indication you’re itching to take your clothes off (you are). He hauls you to your feet, picks you up, and deposits you on top of the desk, looming over you with a grin. You let him strip the rest of your shirt off and help him get your pants off of one leg. You squeeze his hips between your thighs and hook your foot around his back, pulling him flush against you.

“Take off the duster, Coop,” you say, moving to tug it down his shoulder. “It’s too hot in here for that.”

He takes the hand clutching his duster and pins it down to the desk. “I think you just want me to get naked.”

You smirk. “That, too.”

He strips off the other glove with his teeth and grips your hip. “Maybe next time, doll.”

“Aw, you wanna fuck me again - oh, fuck-”

The Ghoul doesn’t let you finish teasing him, instead thrusting into you with a rough stroke. The words get caught in your mouth, and he loves that. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Dick,” you say, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him into a breathless kiss. “Just come here.”

The Ghoul yanks you closer by the hip and wastes no time rutting into you. He can’t decide where to put his hands and runs them up your hips, your sides, grabs at your tits, before finally settling one hand around the back of your neck (seems to be his favorite place to grab you) and the other hand down in your lap so he can press his thumb to your clit. You clench around him, and that just makes him thrust into you harder, rubbing tight circles into your clit.

You’re not gonna last long - not like this. It’s hot, and he feels so good, thick and heavy in your cunt, and the way he groans in your ear and licks at your neck makes you whine.

You can tell the Ghoul is getting close to from the way his hips start to stutter, pressing deeper into you, pace quickening. He yanks your head back by your hair and latches onto your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin.

He presses his lips to your ear, “Where do you want it, doll?”

“Inside,” you reply, tightening your legs around him. “Less cleanup. And I’ve got extra radaway.”

The Ghoul takes that to heart, pounding into you until you cum with a sharp whine. It doesn’t take him long to finish after you, spilling himself deep inside you. He pulls out, cock soaked and softening slowly, but he’s not done with you. He stuffs his fingers into your cunt to keep you full, pumping in and out, and keeps pressing down on your clit with his thumb. It’s teetering violently on the edge of too much, overstimulating you, but you cum again anyway, this time harder and louder from the aftershocks ripping through you.

You drop bonelessly to the desk when he pulls his fingers out, and you watch him idly through your comedown as he licks his own fingers clean.

After a beat, you clamber up onto your elbows. “You still want another contract?”

The Ghoul adjusts himself and zips up his pants, chuckling lowly. “I just fucked you stupid and you’re talking about work.”

You grab your shirt and pull it down over your head, climb down off the desk, and set to work pulling up your pants. “Gets boring around here - gotta keep you coming back somehow.”

He snorts. “Oh, babydoll, you’ll be begging to get rid of me if you keep that up.”

“Try me.”

“I could use another contract,” he says. The slow grin that spread across his face would give anyone else chills. “Let’s see what you’ve got in your little book out there.”

#cooper howard #fallout prime #fotv #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #fallout the ghoul

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eightstarr · 3 days

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visions — abby anderson.

summary: a love letter to trying (or the time when you met your favorite people in the world, an overly stressed med student and her overly adventurous one-year-old, in your apartment's hallway).

notes: constantly suffering from chronic baby fever so this is a present from me to you because i spend way too much time thinking about abby as a mom <3

୨・┈﹕✦﹕﹕✦﹕┈・୧

You’re stepping out of the elevator when you suddenly hear it— a series of light thumps on the floor, fast but determined like a tiny little elephant who really has somewhere to be right now. Another step and then you stop clumsily when a flash of golden hair comes rushing past you. You follow the sight with your eyes, tilting your head. A little girl is walking, no, stomping through the hallway. She’s no older than two years old, her thin shining hair in two short braids, blue jean overalls and red socks on her feet. She moves so confidently that you almost don’t think about it, almost have the instinct to look away as if to not accidentally appear nosy, but her tiny stature and wobbly sense of direction keep your attention.

You look around the hallway, expecting surely the sound of the little girl’s parent calling her name (something sweet and pretty and classic, you imagine; it’d suit her). You picture her name being followed by a tired sigh before her patents rush to catch up, maybe rolling their eyes in a way that pretends to be annoyed but unmistakingly holds a million times more affection. A perfect family, a tiny glimpse of a full life somehow existing right in your unimportant building.

The hallway is long and terribly empty. You look back at the little girl who is striding forward in less of a rush now, with no worries, like this is the same route she’s taken for years.

What are you supposed to say to get a kid’s attention when you don’t know their name? What’s something concise, yet nice, yet simple enough to be understood? Babysitting as a teen has prepared you for a lot, just maybe not all of it. It's been a little too long. You linger on it for just a second before spitting out the first thing that comes to mind. “Hi, princess,” It’s a little awkward, but you’re relieved when she immediately stops and spins around, like something about it sounded familiar— could be your sweet tone or the nickname, you’re not sure. The little girl tilts her head to the side, round cheek lightly squished against her shoulder. It's the cutest thing you’ve ever seen and it makes you giggle like a charmed kid. “Where did you come from?” you ask, but before you have the chance to reach her she pouts her lips, as if just now realizing that you’re not who she thought you were. And then she turns her back, like there's no time to waste, to return to her journey with renewed enthusiasm.

In a scarily fast moment, you realize that she’s going for the stairs. It would maybe be a slightly less terrifying idea if that stupid door actually worked— but it doesn't, it broke sometime last May and now it's awfully easy to open, no strength or shove required. Sometimes, if it's windy and quiet enough, you can faintly hear it swing back and forth from your apartment. The little girl reaches a hand out, not intimidated by the tall door more than three times her height. If you weren’t this terrified, you’d find it amazingly admirable.

You don’t register you’re running until you reach her, don’t register the sound of fast steps behind you or the scream of Rue! or anything else other than the heavy relief on your chest when you lift the baby by her armpits and hold her over your hip against your side. She’s fussing in your arms immediately, upset that she’s being interrupted, especially by a stranger. “I know, I’m sorry, baby. It’s okay, you’re okay,” you coo, though trying to be soothing when your heart is beating this fast is admittedly not the easiest task.

“Rue!” Someone repeats, and this time you do hear it. A woman is running down the hallway, hand coming down to mindlessly drop a tote bag bursting with groceries on the floor by the time she’s in front of you. The little girl reaches out her arms immediately, tiny fists opening and closing furiously and you sigh with relief as you carefully pass her over to the arms of the tall stranger. Her hair is blonde but darker than Rue’s, held back in a braid that looks both pretty and messy, like it was once pristine and then slept on. She’s wearing jeans and a half unbuttoned white shirt, a black tank top underneath. Her chest rises and falls and you notice that yours is no different. Adrenaline is a strange bond to share with a stranger, but it does make things less awkward, knowing you’re both here, feeling the same thing. You meet her expertly focused eyes for just a second before she turns to look at the little girl, searching for anything that could be wrong. “I’m so sorry, sweet girl. You’re okay, right? You’re okay,” the baby flashes a precious, wobbly smile at the sound of her voice, but she’s quickly distracted by the endlessly fascinating rainbow of groceries that lie on the floor. Her tiny head peeks over her mom’s shoulder to observe and it’s like you both can take a more soothing breath now, knowing she’s okay. “Thank you so much,” Abby says. You blink a couple times before you realize that she’s talking to you. “Sorry, I really don’t know how that happened. We were— we just got home from the store and I hadn't even put down all the bags yet and I thought— I was convinced that I shut the door, but…” her rambling drifts off and the stranger takes another breath, reddish embarrassment crawling up her neck.

You understand, suddenly, that she’s not only struggling with the stress of losing and finding her baby, but also the shame of having to face a stranger who might judge her for it. It feels insane to you, to think that she would be forced to prioritize that right now. “Oh, no, it’s okay!” you rush to respond. “I saw her immediately, and you were here in seconds! She wouldn't have gotten any further than that,” your smile is soft, but you speak with enough confidence to be reassuring (babysitting lessons, perhaps), “It was just a scare— don’t be too hard on yourself, please.”

Abby looks disarmed by your answer, her eyebrows raised in surprise. A short moment passes before she nods and smiles back, a small gesture without any less warmth. It’s the most relaxed you’ve seen her so far and it suits her beautifully, enough to make your face feel warm. Her blushing is much less forgiving though, more physically evident on her skin, spread over her cheekbones and the bridge of her pretty nose.

Rue giggles and it distracts you both, her hand waving excitedly at the colorful bird printed on a box of cereal as soon as she spots him. Abby looks at you for a second too long before she clears her throat, joking, “Sorry, she really loves that guy.”

You hum. “He is pretty cool, to be fair.”

Abby tilts her head, copying your sincere tone. “I don’t know, I always thought he’d be kind of a dick in person. He just looks like the type.”

Your startled laugh makes her smirk but she's frustratingly good at hiding it, free hand covering her mouth casually enough that you don’t notice. You look at the grabbing motion of the baby’s hands and pout with sympathy. “She loves him, though. We should probably get him off the floor.”

“Yeah, I should get that— I guess I just ran out with the bag, huh?” Abby huffs. She looks and sounds, physically, a lot less anxious now, less ashamed and more annoyed at herself.

“Would you like some help?”

“That’s okay, I got it,” she’s not sure that she does but she says it anyway, instinctively. Abby tries to lean down and Rue clutches her shirt, pulling enough to communicate that she is not ready to be put down yet. Abby straightens her back quickly enough to communicate that she is not ready to risk getting her any more upset for today. She meets your eyes for just a second. “Well, maybe some help.”

“Sure, just some,” you chuckle. “I’ll get it, don’t worry about it.”

People say that to Abby a lot— don’t worry about it! She hears it from her colleagues when she inevitably asks for the notes from the last class she ran a little late to, from a few of her kinder professors when she’s a day past some assignment’s deadline, from the guy at the grocery store that picks up the packets of M&M bags from the floor when Rue’s curious hands knock them over, from her dad when she asks if he’d be okay with babysitting for just a tiny bit longer. It always makes her stomach turn with guilt, some cases more intense than others, her lips usually pursed as she turns around and takes a breath. This time when you say it, she finds the guilt passing through her with ease, a short visit that makes her shoulders tense before it gets replaced by something else. She believes you, for some reason. Her brain is quiet except for thinking, for once, that there could really be nothing to worry about.

Your hands move casually as you pick everything up, resting on your knees like it’s not uncomfortable, like they might as well be your groceries. The idea is startling. Abby thinks, suddenly, that if someone were to walk into this scene, they wouldn’t read you as a kind stranger. Your ease would hint to something else, a friend, a lover, a picture of a family. Abby finds herself looking at your hands again, brought back to reality only by the slight tug of her hair. Rue plays with her braid distractedly, mumbling to herself about her froot loops friend— except she hasn’t quite learned to pronounce it yet, so it sounds more like oot oops.

Abby chuckles, brushing some of her loose baby hair behind her ears, mumbling back answers to her gibberish to keep her entertained even if Rue doesn’t seem to need it. She’s always endlessly thrilled to just be outside, perhaps the one trait she got from her grandpa rather than her mom. Other than her light snoring.

“She loves you a lot,” you comment, rising from your knees with the bag hanging on your shoulder. You don’t ask and Abby doesn’t think about it— you just start walking back to her apartment together. “Don’t you, Ru-Ru?” the baby giggles, her head turning to you, blue eyes sparkling. You laugh, “Oh, you like that name. It suits you, Ru-Ru.”

“That’s what my dad calls her,” Abby explains.

“He sounds like a man with taste,” you say. “What do you call her?”

“Princess.”

Your smile is wide and pleased. “That suits her even more, I fear.”

“I think so, too,” Abby agrees, a proud little glimmer in her eyes. She stops in front of her door, B06 engraved in silver. Is it always such a short walk from the elevator? She’s seriously thinking about it until, after realizing in an embarrassing second that she never introduced herself to the person kind enough to chase after her baby, help pick up her groceries and carry them home, Abby suddenly turns to you with widened blue eyes and pretty, reddened cheeks. You forgive her before she even says anything, and forget your traitorous reason before it gets a chance to warn you about how dangerous that thought is. “God, sorry, I never told you my name. I’m—”

“Abby, right?” you smile softly at her surprised face, chuckling before you explain, “One of our neighbors is an old friend of mine and she kinda threw this welcome party for me when I moved in. I promise we weren’t gossiping, but I think someone mentioned you.”

“Oh,” Abby nods casually, brushing it off as if she won’t be spending all night thinking about what your first impression of her might’ve been like. Rue fusses in her arms, a little grunt as she kicks her legs to be put down. “Sorry— I‘ll be right back,” Abby shares a quick look with you and you wave goodbye, not surprised to be missing Rue as soon as she turns around. You watch them walk inside together, a tiny hand waving back at you and making you smile as she excitedly makes her way to her playpen, shrieking bye-bye! Abby places a kiss on top of Rue’s blonde hair and makes her laugh with some noise that you don’t quite catch. She’s comfortable here, walking amongst colorful toys and biology books. She moves like an expert, pulling down her shirt where it rode up somewhere along the way. You make half an effort not to stare, but it’s half more than the effort Abby makes to not let it get to her head. The most confident she’s felt so far, she asks you, “Did that totally innocent welcome party of yours happen, like, two weeks ago? I think I heard some music.”

“It was extremely innocent,” you insist, eyebrows raised teasingly, “And no, sorry, not sure what that was— I moved here like a year ago.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You grace her (or yourself) with a second of silence before you laugh at her awkward expression, the way she brushes a hand over her flushed face and huffs. “Fuck, that’s embarrassing. I’m kinda terrible at keeping up with this type of, uh, social stuff.”

“It’s not embarrassing, I promise. It’s a big world,” you reassure her. “Even bigger when you’re doing a million other stuff.”

You tell her your name and Abby, who is young like you but also highly knowledgeable on little specific human interaction cheat-codes that come with being a mom, nods her head and makes her eyes light up with what seems, to the naive eye, like recognition. “Oh, that’s right!”

You stare for a second before squinting your eyes. “Are you lying to me, Abby from B06?”

Abby grins, wondering when was the last time she found being caught this funny. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve never heard that name in my life.”

You laugh the loudest you have so far and a daydreamed life flashes in Abby’s head— in that big, dramatic way that it does only when you’ve been watching too many rom-coms every night, or when you’re getting too much dating advice from your friend who’s been married since eighteen, or maybe when you fall in love with a pretty stranger who seems to be able to read your mind. It’s an idealized vision of an idealized world, and Abby finds herself being completely okay to clutch it in her fists to keep, because it’s fucking lovely.

“Well, I forgive you,” you tell her, unaware (maybe?) of the chaos that you’ve induced inside of her. “You’re a busy girl.”

Abby tries to think of a good, smooth way to tell you that she could see herself saying your name everyday, placed adoringly after good morning and I miss you. All she comes up with is, “I got enough time to learn it.”

—

You play with the hem of your shirt, pajamas made of mostly Abby’s clothes every night, a scent on them that’s not yours but it might as well be. It’s yours in all the ways that matter, in the same sense that she is. Abby walks out of the bathroom wearing her usual pajamas— a shirt that fits too loose and boxers that are a little too tight around her thighs. She doesn't seem to mind them, and you don’t seem to wanna complain. She knows by the way you look at her. You’re leaning back on your palms, your head tilted, the same shyness and sparkly adoration in your eyes that you’d get when you didn't know each other all that well. It’s not too often that she sees that nervousness anymore, but she still gets glimpses of it, a blink of something on your face or your tone or your breathing that says I have a crush on you and I’m hoping you can’t tell. She likes that nervousness the best right now, the way it’s timid and then settles into something like cockiness when you remember that she’s looking at you just the same, when you remember how much you like the way she copies the tilt of your head and teases you as if she's not also smiling like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.

Abby loves every moment like this, loves getting home and helping prepare dinner and making Rue laugh before kissing her goodnight, loves doing the dishes with you and flirting and talking about the day. Today, she’s especially looking forward to the latter.

“So, how was it?” she asks, the back of her thighs resting against the dresser. She’s trying to play it cool and she's annoyingly good at it, even now.

“Hm?” you hum, leaning further back to rest on your elbows, your back almost fully touching the bed. Abby feels a little bad keeping you up, but she knows she’ll be tossing and turning all night if she has to wait until the morning to ask.

“The school meeting.”

“Oh,” you smile wide enough to look silly and beautiful, sweet enough to rot teeth. She feels like she could sink in it, your smile and the relief it brings to her well hidden nervousness. “I loved it so much, Abs.”

Abby is smooth when she walks closer, soft when she cups your cheek, but there's something anxious in her eyes if you know where to look. “Yeah?” she insists.

You nod your head and kiss the palm of her hand, your lips pressed together in that funny way of trying to hold back an excited giggle. Abby smiles and feels nostalgic for the time, many many months ago, when she’d bring a finger to her lips to shush you and then remind you in an expert whisper that Rue is sleeping in the other room. She doesn't have to teach you much at all anymore, and every moment that proves that to her feels like the most beautiful, unfamiliar peace.

“I’m so happy,” you announce, looking up at her. You’re tired enough that it feels almost like being drunk, which is maybe why a short giggle manages to escape. Abby finds it contagious, your joy moves through her as naturally and importantly as the pumping of her blood. “I’m so excited for all of it.”

It’s the second parents' meeting that you’ve attended at Rue’s school— but you spent that first one sitting quietly by her side, practically hiding behind her, too aware of yourself and of the fact that you don’t really know what you’re doing. “Nobody knows,” Abby confessed on your way home, a hand on the steering wheel and another over your leg, her fingers tapping a comforting rhythm. “Parenting is beautiful, it just comes a lot less naturally than you’d think. That thing about a biological, primal wisdom or whatever— it’s a nice concept. But the best things I know came from me actively trying.”

Her words echoed in your head when you said yes to attending this school meeting alone, when you smiled and made the effort to look as calm as you could, kissed her cheek and said “of course!”. Being Rue’s parent doesn’t always come naturally, but it comes from the most genuine love, every single time. Of course you can go to her meeting when Abby can’t reschedule work, because of course you want to know about how Rue is doing in school. It’s an honor to be there for her, to speak for her when you know she needs you to. This is you actively trying.

“How were the other parents?” Abby asks, lying on her side now, her finger tracing unreadable patterns on your cheek. She craves physical contact more than she’d like to admit— but it works great, because you never ask her to admit it if she doesn't want to. The pads of her fingers say enough.

“They were cool, they were all very sweet to me. Well, Leo’s mom is a little passive aggressive but she’s that way with everyone,” you comment through a yawn, the side of your face comfortably pressed against your pillow. Abby hums, agreeing. “Sophie’s mom was the nicest, she sat next to me and invited me to join her and Jade’s mom for brunch.”

“Which Sophie?”

“The one that gave Rue a Valentine’s gift, that milk chocolate that she loves.”

“Oh, I like that Sophie.”

“Me too. I think I wouldn't mind joining a weekly brunch cult with her mom.”

Abby laughs in the way that she only does when she’s sleepy, where she sounds almost like her teenage self, shy and sweet. By the time it dies down, you’re almost asleep. But then, softly enough that you almost don’t hear it, she asks, “How do you think you would feel if she called you that?”

You make a questioning little sound that sounds like "what?" but not quite.

“If Rue called you mom.”

Your eyes open in a second, though not without effort. You look at Abby’s face, her pretty, relaxed features, and answer honestly. “I would probably cry. And then kiss her cheeks for as long as she let me.”

Abby chuckles. “Like when she fell off the swing and got the tiniest scratch on her knee?”

“Yeah, just— the joyful version of that, I guess. They would be the happiest tears ever spilled,” you explain, so sincere that Abby almost tells you. And you know her enough to read it on her face, the way she barely parted her lips and then pressed them back together quickly. Your head lifts from the pillow. “Wait, why? She told you something? Did she ask about that?”

Abby is great at keeping it cool, but less so once she’s been caught. Her nervous chuckle says it all. “I…”

“Abby, I swear to god, I will not let you sleep until you tell me.”

She more than believes you, but a flash memory of her pinky finger wrapped around Rue’s holds her back from spilling any more details. “Sorry, baby, I’m not allowed to say.”

“Oh my god,” you drop back onto your pillow, this time lying flat on your back. “You think she’s gonna say it?” you ask, and Abby is unsure if you’re asking her or the ceiling or a godly presence way above it. Or yourself, most likely. “It’s okay if she doesn't, maybe she was just curious. Maybe she needs time. I mean, obviously. She probably won’t say it, like, tomorrow, right?” you turn your head and look at her, so wrapped up in your inner monologue that you don’t process the amusement and adoration that’s all over your girlfriend’s face. “What if I react super weird and she doesn't say it again?”

Abby’s lips stretch into the softest smile, so in love that she almost forgets to answer and instead holds her hand on the back of your neck and pulls you close to press a kiss against your forehead. Your eyebrows are still furrowed worriedly when she pulls away, and she brushes her thumb over your cheek as she lets out the kindest hum, acknowledging your question. “You’re not gonna react weird, sweetheart.”

Momentarily flustered, you shake your head to remember the point that you’d been thinking about. “But I shouldn't cry, imagine how confusing that would be for her— what if she thinks she made me upset?”

“That won’t happen. She cried happy tears when you moved in, remember? She knows what they are,” she says. It’s one of the best memories you have, the nervous look on Abby’s face when she asked you, rambling, “It would be a big change, but not the worst, right? You’d just be a couple doors down the hall. It would be a lot of the same in a lot of ways, just with us.”

After that came the late nights at your apartment, dates hidden behind the excuse of packing, half empty boxes on the floor and Abby stuck to you like glue, a kiss or ten whenever she got too carried away with excitement. A couple weeks later came your clothes in her closet, your favorite blanket on the couch, and Rue’s eyes glimmering with happy tears as she hid her face on your neck and tried to understand her feelings. Then, after a few minutes of patiently rubbing her back, came her little frown of concentration and the way she attentively listened to you and Abby explain that her reaction was normal, that sometimes happiness feels like too much to hold in just a laugh or a dance. “Oh, okay,” she’d said, in this cute proud tone that she gets whenever she learns something new that makes sense to her. It was the sweetest thing. She’s the sweetest thing— and you can’t believe this is your life, that you get to take care of her and hang out and teach her new things to be proud of.

“You think she wants me to be her mom?”

Abby smiles. “You are her mom, baby.”

Rue doesn't say it the next day. You don’t overthink it— couldn't if you tried. It's a nice feeling to be so happy that you don't feel the need to think. She doesn't call you mom that morning, but she runs to the doorway where you’re putting on your shoes to get to work and wraps her arms so tight around your legs that you have to balance yourself with a hand against the wall. Her hair is messy from sleep, her yellow pajama shirt wrinkled, her eyes blinking lazily as she looks up at you and asks, “Back soon?”

“Soon as I can, princess,” you promise, leaning down to kiss her head. What is there to overthink? What more could you possibly need?

You can do this forever, have mornings like this and feel grateful in a way that you didn't know existed until now. You love the way it comes at random times, the way you’re still you, still grumpy when your coffee tastes watery, still a little bad at getting to the train station on time, still learning not to burn the first batch of pancakes. It’s a big change, but not the worst, right? It’s a lot of the same in a lot of ways, except Abby is there at the kitchen kissing your cheek, and a tiny head of blonde hair is peeking from the back of the couch, gummy smile and freckled cheeks, saying, “I like my pancakes like that, mom!”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fic #abby x reader #abby anderson x female!reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson headcanons #mom!abby #doctor!abby

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 3 days

Note

Could we get Gaz reacting to reader spreading rumours on base that they're dating for no good reason other than to undermine his authority and piss him off? (Inspired by your reader flirting with Gaz on the job piece) 🙏

tasty tasty tasty.

ok so there is a reason other than undermining his authority. but a pissed-off Gaz is a pissed-off Gaz, right?

26 / 1.4k / comes after flirting with Gaz on the job

...

You're on your way to a briefing, eyes cast down on the paperwork in your hands. You did not do your homework, as usual, so you're skimming what you can in the four minutes it takes you to walk to the meeting room.

Which is why you almost don't see Gaz standing in front of you, arm braced on the wall, blocking your way. To someone else, he'd read as neutral. You know his face too well to misread the stern glower tightening his features.

"Excuse me," you say, trying to sidestep him.

Gaz doesn't move. He also clearly knows he can't be moved. Not by you.

"Late for a meeting?" he asks lightly.

"No, sir, but I will be in just a few minutes. So if you don't mind--"

"Not at all," he says in a voice that implies the opposite. "Since you're about to be late anyway, how about you and me have a little chat, yeah?"

"I couldn't possibly take up more of your valuable time," you say, slipping into the flirtatious tone you so often direct at him. You try to slide past him, but nothing escapes Gaz. "Though I'm flattered you'd--"

He grabs your arm. Not roughly—he never touches you roughly, probably because you’d just egg him on—but firmly enough not to be ignored. "With me, Private."

You're too flustered to resist as he pulls you through the halls and into a different office. Captain Price's office, you notice.

⬇ nsfw, revenge porn

“Have a seat.” He gestures to the chair in front of desk, then sits himself on Price’s chair. The corner of his mouth curls up. That’s unnerving.

You don't sit. "Sir, I appreciate your urgency, but I really must get to my briefing. Shepherd will wonder where I am."

Gaz's stare is steady as a hawk's. You'd love the chance to gaze into his eyes under any other circumstances. But now?

"Then Shepard can take it up with me," he says. "He wouldn't be surprised to hear we're spending time together, after all. Or hasn't he heard?"

You sweat. Oh, shit. "I, um, don't know why he wouldn't be surprised."

His eyes harden. “No? I hear we've been spending quite a lot of time together lately. Funny how I was the last to know about it."

Inwardly, you cringe. "I can explain."

“Yeah?” he challenges you. He crosses his arms, leaning back. "You can explain where the hell you get off spreading grubby little rumors about how you and I are fooling around?"

"I said I can." You fidget with the stapled corners of the packets of paper in your arm, folding and creasing them as your mind runs at ninety miles an hour. "So what did you hear, exactly?"

"What I heard was that we're seeing each other in the least professional way imaginable," Gaz says, voice clipped. He keeps his expression and tone controlled only with visible effort. "That I’m having a cozy little fling with a private. Someone who is technically my subordinate. That could cost me a lot of time and patience if my superiors decided to write me up."

"But Captain Price would never believe that about you, though. Right? I mean, the rumor mill is always churning out something. Last month it was Sergeant MacTavish and the girl from IT."

His expression gets frostier. "You started the rumor about us. I know it was you."

You fight the urge to glance back at the door behind you. You try to weave an excuse together, but it gets stuck in your throat.

Gaz leans forward now. His glare is so sharp it could slice glass. He seems to grow in size as he stares you down. He’s so intense, so intimidating, so… right there. Way too close. You start to get distracted, swimming in his dark eyes, before his voice yanks you back to reality.

"I know because some prick claiming to be your ex-boyfriend confronted me about it. Said you put the idea in his head that I'm keeping you warm at night. Took a swing at me, too." He narrows his eyes. "I don't like being put in a position to defend your honor just to protect my reputation, Private."

You stumble through a litany of excuses--you had to get your ex off your back; you meant a different Sergeant Garrick; okay, maybe that's not true, but you only just told a tiny little fib. Is it really your fault the rumor spiraled out of control?

It doesn't work. In fact, as you babble on, Gaz only takes your flailing as proof of how guilty you are.

You're prepared for him to tear you a new asshole (though not in the way you'd want), but to your surprise, he doesn't. Instead:

"You’re going to make this right."

You blink. "I am?"

"Damn right you are. I did your dirty work for you, and I'm sure as hell not chasing down your ex and apologizing after the rubbish he spewed."

"Then... you want me to tell him I lied?"

Gaz scoffs. "It wouldn't work if you did."

"Then what am I supposed to do? Ignore it?"

"Quiet down. I wasn't finished. There's no use trying to quell the rumors at this point; it'll only fuel them. So here's what we're gonna do."

…

You're not quite sure how this is going to solve the problem. It seemed rational when he explained it. Then again, anything coming out of Gaz’s mouth sounds reasonable to you.

You're sitting across from him at a low-key dinner joint. Not the kind of upscale place you're used to being taken to on dates. Then again, this place wasn't your choice. And technically you're treating him to dinner. He’s the one who’s quote-unquote "breaking up" with you.

When you'd questioned his logic, pointing out that it'd be way easier to just not and say you did, he gave you a half-amused, half-condescending look that made your stomach too fluttery.

"If you're gonna use my name and risk my reputation to be my fake girlfriend, I'm gonna get something out of it," he'd said. So now you've gotta wine and dine him at his favorite restaurant, and then you're gonna have to sit there and be broken up with. As if he hasn't shamed you enough.

That sucks. This sucks. You never even got a real date with him. And with your luck, your ex is gonna find out.

You do try to flirt your way back into his good graces during this fake-relationship-real-date. He just scoffs. Doesn't just no-sell you--he actively bites back and he's pretty damn mean about it.

You're not just a liar, he tells you--you're dense. If you'd asked him out like a normal person instead of flirting with him and then starting stupid rumors, he'd have considered it. When you tell him you had asked him out and he’d turned you down, he scoffs and tells you he'd have split the bill instead of making you pay, at least.

That's as far as he intends for it to go. But then, while you're waiting on the check, he gets a text from an unknown number.

It's a video. Of you.

You doing some very lewd things to what looks like your ex-boyfriend. Blowing him in the bathroom of some club or a restaurant much dingier than this one. If that's where he's been taking you on dates, Gaz can understand why you broke up with him.

Enjoy my sloppy seconds, chud, says the accompanying smug text.

Gaz is also starting to understand why you lied to get your ex off your back.

"What is it?" you ask, seeing the look on Gaz's face as he stares down at his phone.

"Nothing," he says, putting his phone away as the waiter sets down the check. Gaz pushes his chair out and rises, trying his best not to show any emotion, but his words are a little too sharp. "Let's go.”

"Now?" you ask, surprised. "I thought you were going to--I thought we would get our story straight about the, um, the breakup."

"We can figure it out on the way."

"To where?”

"Your place."

...

[part 1] / part 2

more Gaz / masterlist tag

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haoboutyou · 2 days

Text

gym crush | choi seungcheol

fluff | 1151 words | suggestive descriptions. i’m y/n’s just really thirsty

an: please take this as a formal invitation. requests are open! (whether i answer on time is another problem)

you don’t like the gym. absolutely not. it gets super hot and humid inside, it stinks of sweat, and the big machines always intimidate you.

what to do? you’re just a girl.

you usually wouldn’t even phantom the idea of stepping foot into the gym if it wasn’t for your best friend. really, the only reason why you’re even sitting in one right now was because you arrived too early for your meet up with him.

that’s how you ended up perched on a high stool, legs swinging as you patiently look around while soonyoung finishes up his last few sets of… pull-ups? you’re honestly not sure. how he’s still chatting with you while completing his sets – barely panting through it, too – is beyond you.

“so i was thinking,” soonyoung casually starts, lifting himself like he was made of paper. “we can get dinner at the new italian place downtown? i heard they’re having a opening promotion right now.”

“mmh, sounds good.” your eyes are flitting all around the gym, trying to find something interesting enough to catch your attention.

“right, i almost forgot! seokmin texted earlier; he said he’ll drive by to pick us up later too.”

“really? that’s great.” you sound enthusiastic but your hunched posture informs soonyoung otherwise. at this point, your best friend can tell that you’ve tuned out of the conversation. he huffs at the way your eyes zone into the far corner of the gym, where the weight benches are. soonyoung scoffs more when he realises your eyes are trained on a very specific person, watching intently at the way the muscles on his arms bulge every time he lifts a dumbbell.

“yeah, he also said he saw mingyu running into a tree earlier… even said a rat fell on him and started pulling at his hair and controlling him like a robot. do you think the rat would make a better chef than mingyu?”

“wow really? that’s great.” your replies get progressively monotonous as you keep your eyes trained at the corner. yeah, now he definitely knows your mind has completely left the conversation.

your breath hitched as you watched the mystery man run a hand through his faded red hair, baggy t-shirt sleeves hitched up to reveal more of his biceps? triceps? never have you ever wished you paid more attention to your biology lessons back in high school.

everything about this mystery man has you swooning. the thick veins on his hands running up his arms, the way his eyebrows furrow in concentration, how the sweat glistening on his forehead seemed to cast a heavenly glow all around him. you can’t forget the grunts he lets out with every movement, entrancing you with his deep voice. gosh, even his hands are perfect. an angel has descended to soothe all your gym-related problems, converting you into a devout worshipper of his physique.

you’ve never been more thankful for soonyoung’s suggestion to wait in the gym.

soonyoung’s arms may be burning from hanging on the pull-up bar for too long, but he just couldn’t believe his eyes; your mouth is hanging open and– wait, is that drool?! is his best friend really drooling over a man in the gym?!? a laugh of disbelief escapes him as he finishes the last of his rep. soonyoung mutters a quick prayer of thanks to god for gifting him prime blackmailing material. he drops back to the ground and swiftly snaps a picture of you, in all your thirsting glory, before he picks up the rest of his stuff.

“y/n,” he calls out. “i’m gonna hit the showers and then we can go. you good staying here on your own for a bit?”

“yeah, yeah! i’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.” you wave him off, not even bothering to turn towards your best friend. soonyoung lets out another tut as he turns towards the gym’s locker room. that is, before a brilliant idea comes into mind.

“hyung!”

the red-haired man turns towards soonyoung’s voice. “hoshi, you’re going already?”

your best friend nods his head, grinning at how your eyes seemed to pop out at the way he was casually talking to your new-found eye candy. “are you doing anything tonight? i’m meeting seokmin and the others for dinner later, wanna join?”

“kwon soonyoung!” you whisper-hiss. “what the hell are you doing? you guys know each other!?” is that blush creeping up your neck he sees? the tips of your ears tinge so pink soonyoung thinks he can almost feel the heat radiating from them.

“thanks, but i’ve already got plans.” the mystery stranger shoots you a gentle smile, flirty (flirty?!) wink (WINK?!?) towards you. still, you can’t hide your disappointment; you would’ve loved to get to know this new-found work of art more.. “maybe next time? you can properly introduce me to your pretty friend then too.”

soonyoung thinks he heard a strangled cry from you, coughing as you somehow manage to choke on your own saliva. he chuckles at your suffering. “sure, hyung. i think she’d like that too!”

soonyoung doesn’t know what to expect when he finally emerges from the locker room cleaned and refreshed, but it definitely wasn’t you raining attacks on his sore arms and shoulders. seungcheol (he had introduced himself to you while soonyoung was gone– in fact, the two of you managed a whole conversation while he was gone (no, you were so shy and embarrassed you were barely able to keep eye contact with him)) waves at the both of you as you leave the gym to wait for seokmin to arrive.

you’re convinced the blush on your cheeks is going to be a permanent feature of tonight. it doesn’t help that it becomes the main topic during dinner with seokmin and mingyu, the other two boys cracking up at soonyoung’s dramatic retelling of your new-found gym crush.

(it also doesn’t help that you had a balled up fist under the table all night, hiding the hastily written phone number on a piece of paper that seungcheol had managed to slip to you while you were leaving, mouthing the words ‘call me!’ behind soonyoung’s back.)

bonus!

“remember when you couldn’t keep your eyes off me when we first met?” seungcheol swings his arm around you, broad shoulders almost engulfing you whole.

you groan, choosing instead to bury your head into your boyfriend’s chest. soonyoung cackles from across the booth. you have to physically restrain yourself from clawing him alive.

“hyung it wasn’t just that; she was drooling over you!” he wiggles his eyebrows, ignoring the daggers you were staring his way. blush makes its way up your cheeks, dusting them pink.

seungcheol laughs, planting a kiss on the crown of your head.

“if it makes you feel better,” he whispers in your ear. “you were my gym crush too.”

soonyoung almost falls off his seat laughing when you blush even harder.

#scoups #seungcheol #seventeen #scoups fluff #seventeen fluff #seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol #svt #choi seungcheol fluff #svt fluff #˙✧˖° aiyu writes ༘ ⋆｡˚

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kissesfrombangtanatnight · 3 days

Text

Roman Reigns: "Go ahead, touch it." (Part I)

Warning: Explicit language

Roman. "Girl, I can't believe you refused to kiss that man. It's just one little kiss. What harm could it do?" Your best friend and co-worker, Bianca Belair, teased as you and she walked, arm-in-arm, down the corridors of the building. Tonight, you were filming yet another episode of Friday Night SmackDown to yet another sold-out crowd.

You roll your eyes as your heart skips a beat thinking about your meeting with the creative team earlier that morning alongside the Bloodline. See, you were currently one of the hottest WWE stars on the roster so of course it made sense that you somehow found a way to connect with the hottest faction in all of wrestling history, The Bloodline. You've been a part of WWE for over ten years, having made history throughout your career. You were always prepared for a challenge, no matter what came your way. However, nothing could prepare you for what Hunter (aka Triple H) had requested of you just hours ago during your meeting with the Bloodline.

What was the tough challenge he assigned to you? Well none other than forming an on-screen relationship with The Bloodline's leader, the Head of the Table, the Tribal Chief himself....Roman Reigns.

Why was this such a hard task for you? Well, it's simple really...you have no experience when it comes to men...especially hot ones like Roman Reigns. I mean...the guy looked like God himself took his time crafting him in his mother's womb. He was fine as hell and aged like fine wine. You'd be lying if you said his presence didn't intimidate you. And it didn't help that you've always had a crush on him since you debuted in NXT the same year, he and fellow Shield members, Dean Ambrose and Seth Rollins, debuted. I mean, how can you not?

When he first debuted as the quiet "Muscle" of The Shield, it was no surprise that women were all over him, especially after finding out he was single. Back then, women would fall to their knees for him if he asked them to, and now, it's only heightened since his transformation into his Tribal Chief gimmick. The ladies were like moths to a flame when it came to him. Which you hated because you wished you had the confidence to even approach him and say hi, yet you didn't. Instead, you'd sort of sit on the sideline and watch as different women went in and out of his locker room, often sporting a fucked out look of exhaustion, satisfaction, and accomplishment. Why just a couple of months ago you watched, shocked, as the newcomer on the SmackDown roster, Jade Cargill wobbled out of his locker room only minutes before the show started. That's just how easy it was to fall to the command of the Tribal Chief.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Why the hell would you have a crush on a man like that? A player like that. You didn't know but the innocent woman in you couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to be with the Tribal Chief in such an unwarranted predicament. Underneath him. Screaming his name like the sweetest of song lyrics. But then again, the common sense in you wanted nothing to do with being just another woman in his bed. You've obtained one of the best, if not the best, reputations with not only the WWE Universe but your co-workers and fellow staff and you refused to mess that up with your curiosity about the Tribal Chief.

"Did you hear me?" Bianca says, knocking you out of your thoughts, as she momentarily stops walking to glance at you.

"Huh? Oh yeah....I heard you. But girl, it's simple. I just.....I don't want a love storyline right now. I've never had a love storyline in my entire career, so I was just a little shocked when Hunter said he wanted me to start working closely with Roman. I mean, it's an honor considering Roman is one of the top, if not the top, stars in the company, but.....I don't know. Plus.....I.....I've never even had my first kiss so it would be a little awkward. And I want my first kiss to be speci-" Bianca cuts you off by yelling.

"GIRL WHAT?! You've never had your first kiss?!" she exaggerates as you quickly put your hand over her mouth to shut her up. The last thing you needed was for people to hear your conversation.

"Girl...tone it down. And no...no I haven't. Sis, you should know by now that I keep to myself. I don't socialize like that. So no, I never dated." You sigh as you shrug, and resume walking down the halls to get to the catering room. You were starving and your stomach was growling.

"Girl...I knew you were an introvert, but I didn't know you were like that. Damn girl....so you're a virgin? Which means you ain't ever got no di-" you cut her off.

"Girl...uh-uh. Don't use that vulgar language around me. Plus, it's not like it's a bad thing....right? I understand people around my age (27), who usually have already been in relationships and had sex and whatnot. Hell, most have already had their first kiss, but I don't know. I've never had that experience before. So...when I do, I just want it to be special. Not because my boss told me to do it. You know what I mean?" you say as Bianca quietly nods.

"No...I get it. Your first kiss can either be a magical experience or dreadful. Thankfully, Tez made up for the terrible kisses I've experienced in my past." Bianca giggles as you both smile, turning the corner just as you accidentally bump into someone.

"Omg I'm so so-"you say quickly as you almost stumble over your words.

"Ahhh just the young woman I was looking for. Y/n...Bianca, how are you ladies?" The loud voice of Paul Heyman greets you as you look at him apologetically.

"Doing great actually. Y/n was telling me that she possibly has a storyline with Roman coming, is that right?" Bianca smiles, nudging your arm slightly as you stand quietly, playing with your fingers.

"Well...that was until Miss Y/n refused to fulfill her obligations of the storyline as a companion of the Tribal Chief, your Tribal Chief. Which brings me to why I was searching for you, Miss Y/n. The Tribal Chief himself has requested to see you in his locker room, privately. I presume he wants to speak business away from others. Surely you won't keep him waiting for much longer." Paul speaks as you feel your heart flutter.

You were pretty sure you weren't in Roman's good graces after refusing to do a storyline with him. One thing about him is that he was a professional, a businessman if you will, and he prided himself on doing whatever was best for business. Whatever kept the dollars and viewership rolling in, he made sure he perfected his craft. Hence, why you assumed he'd look at you indifferently after you awkwardly told him and others in the meeting room that you didn't think you were a good fit to be the on-screen lover of the Tribal Chief. Yet, here he was, requesting to see you.

You guess you were sitting contemplating too long because Bianca speaks up for you, "She'll be right there. Gone head, Y/n."

You snap out of it as you look at her like she is crazy. You were starving and the last thing you needed was to sit in someone's locker room for hours as your stomach growled embarrassingly.

"I'm sorry Paul, but...I can't. My decision stands. Now if you'll excuse me, Bianca and I were headed to get something to eat." You say politely as you try to walk past Paul, but he blocks your way.

"Settle down Miss Y/n. He's not asking you to do anything unbecoming. He simply wants to have a one-on-one verbal exchange with another top star in this business. Now, being that you are at the top of the women's division, I'd presume you want to make decisions that demonstrate why you are at the top. Hence, why it would be in your best interest, and the best interest of this company, to meet with the Tribal Chief, the Head of the Table, the Greatest Champion of the Modern Day Era, the G.O.A.T., and Undisputed WWE Universal Champion himself. Now please....let's not keep him waiting. After all, he is a man with a very busy schedule and timeliness is a courtesy to others." Paul rambles as you look at him and Bianca in disbelief as he begins walking away, gesturing for you to follow behind him.

"See you later girl!" you hear Bianca say as you reluctantly follow Paul's lead.

Your mind is racing as he leads you down the corridor until you finally make it to the only locker room with The Bloodline sign stamped on it. Paul instinctively knocks on the door as you mentally prepare yourself for whatever this is going to turn out to be.

"Who is it?" you hear Roman's booming voice question from the other side of the door.

Oh God....his voice was filled with so much authority, it scared you.

You swallow the lump in your throat as Paul responds, "It's me Tribal Chief, I've brought along Y/n to speak with you as you requested."

"Come in," Roman responds as Paul happily opens the door for you. You inwardly sigh.

Here goes nothing.

You slowly walk into the locker room as you come face-to-face with The Bloodline members, The Undisputed tag team champions, The Usos, The Enforcer known as Solo Sikoa, the Honorary Uce Sami Zayn, and of course, the man himself, Roman Reigns.

Breathe Y/n....breathe.....

"So, I told her, why eat your p*ssy when I can get fish from Captain D's then I kicked her stank a** out my hotel room. Hahahaha" Jey laughs as he, his twin brother, and Sami chatter.

Suddenly, all chattering comes to a halt as the attention is turned to you. Gosh, you hated this. You hated being the center of attention. It made you very self-aware of your appearance, flaws, everything. You awkwardly nod your head towards them before you build the courage to use your voice.

"Hi...." You mutter.

"Everyone....out, now." Roman commands as the Bloodline members immediately jump to their feet to leave.

"Sup, Y/n," Jimmy says quietly as he walks past you, his brothers and Sami following suit, each greeting you.

Paul quickly goes over to Roman and whispers something in his ear as Paul not-so discretely points at you before hurrying out the door.

The door closes and it's now just you and Roman in the quiet room. You look anywhere but his face as he looks at you in amusement.

"Don't be shy, come on. Have a seat." He says lowly as you slowly follow instructions and take a seat on the couch, making sure to keep a distance between the two of you.

He chuckles lightly at your actions before taking a deep breath.

"Well, I don't want to keep you long, Wiseman said he interrupted you on your way to get some food, so I'll be quick. The reason I wanted to speak with you was to ask why you didn't want to do the storyline with me. Have I done something wrong? I'm sure I haven't because we haven't crossed paths since your days of the Wyatt Family (which you were a part of) and my days as a member of The Shield." He says as he looks over at you, curious to hear your response.

"Listen Roman...I-I don't want to come across as rude, okay? I don't want to come across as someone who doesn't do what's best for business. Trust me, I know you and I partnering together would do astronomical numbers but-"

"But what?" he says softly as he leans back, spreading his legs to get comfortable.

You try not to be so obvious as you take a glance at his sweatpants or rather what was in his sweatpants as it came to full view when he leaned back. Gosh, just the outline of it was.....

Omg girl, no! Stay focused!

A light chuckle knocks you out of your inner monologue as Roman bites his beautifully pink bottom lip.

(I do not own this gif)

"Like what you see, babygirl?" he quips, noticing how you instantly look away after being caught staring at his dick print.

"N-n-no I wasn't looking I-..haha" You laugh nervously as his presence starts to overwhelm you. This is the most you've ever spent alone with a man. You've officially broken a personal record of yours.

"It's okay...you can do more than just look at it." He smirks as your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at his comment.

"E-excuse me?" you say standing to your feet, displaying disgust at his lewd comments towards you.

He shrugs, casually propping his feet up on the coffee table in front of him.

"I'm just saying....I can put that mouth to good use. Maybe that'll convince you to be my on-screen romance." He laughs.

"Excuse you, but I am not some hoe. You think just because you're used to getting what you want, I'll just agree to anything you say? Look, I'm not your cousins, I'm not Sami Zayn, and I'm certainly not the Wiseman Paul Heyman that waits on you hand and foot. I-" he cuts you off.

"Whoa, whoa Miss Class-And-Dignity. I'm only teasing. Calm down, we have serious business to discuss. I'll keep my hands to myself...if that's what you want." He says as you roll your eyes but take your seat again.

"Listen Y/n, I'm a businessman that makes the best business decisions for my career and those I work with. I want to elevate to the top of the mountain and do whatever it takes to maintain it at the top. With that being said, when the opportunity presented itself, I had to jump on the chance to work with you. After all, you are in a league of your own. I mean.... you are the first black woman to main-event Wrestlemania. You are the first woman in WWE history to do a lot of things. You are at the top of the women's division-"You listen quietly as he continues.

"..... And I'm at the top of this company. I am the greatest champion of all time and it's only right that I have the greatest women's wrestler by my side, Y/n. And that's you. No other woman on this roster can compete with you. No other woman fits me the way you would. I'd love to have you by my side. Imagine the things we could do together, running this business. It's an opportunity that we just can't pass up." He says as you slowly consume his every word.

He did have a point. You two were the best of the best, the cream of the crop, so it only made sense to collaborate and make some major money. But you just couldn't. Just the mere thought of working with him scared you a little. Again, as previously stated, this is the same man you've had this huge crush on for years. You didn't really know how to act around him.

He watches your features closely as you ponder over his words.

"Listen, Y/n. I don't want to force you into working with me but just think about it. I want you to be comfortable. Besides, what is it exactly that makes you so.....nervous around me? You seem so confident in the ring cutting promos and tossing people around the ring, yet right now, you look.......nervous." He inquires curiously.

You sigh deeply.

Well....here goes nothing.....

"Well...it's just that...well....I...." you try to come up with the right words to say without making yourself look stupid.

He stays quiet as he looks at you expectantly, wanting to hear what you have to say.

"I just.......Roman, I've never been in a relationship before, okay? I've never even had my first kiss yet, so when they asked me to start a romance with you, I got extremely nervous. Especially when they said they wanted us to eventually kiss for the cameras. It just makes me nervous, and I don't want to mess this up. I-"

"You've never been kissed before?" he says, in an almost shocked tone.

You shrug your shoulders, playing with your fingers as you quickly respond, "No."

It grows quiet in the room as he ponders what you just revealed to him. No wonder you damn near flipped at his filthy comments earlier.

Suddenly, he smirks to himself. Maybe he can get you to get comfortable around him. If it was experience you were looking for....maybe he could offer his services to you.

"How 'bout this, Y/n, you agree to work with me, and I do what I can to make you comfortable with me. It's a win-win situation." He suggests as you look at him confused.

"What do you mean?" you ask as he stands to his feet, rolling his shoulders back as he peers down at you.

"It means I'm gonna make you comfortable with my body first and foremost. Body language is especially important in convincing the audience. So, for now, I'm gonna familiarize you with my body. Capeesh?" he says grinning at you.

You look at him confused and nervous, "And how are you going to do that?"

Suddenly he removes his shirt as you let out a gasp. Followed by him dropping his pants, along with his boxers, as he stood bare in front of you.

"Oh my God!" you squeal as you instinctively cover your eyes.

"Go ahead, touch it." He smirks, licking his lips, as you can't believe what is happening right now. Did this man really just expose himself to you and permit you to touch his dick? This can't be reality.

"Absolutely not. Are you insane?!" you say continuing to keep your eyes squeezed shut.

"Babygirl...it's a dick. It's not gonna bite. Touch it. Feel it. Stroke it. Suck it. Fuck it. Do whatever you want to it so long as you don't bite it." He encourages as you're going insane in your head.

This can't be real.....

"Time is ticking." He sighs playfully looking at his gold Rolex on his wrist.

Omg...omg....

He clearly wasn't gonna leave this alone. Maybe if you tapped it, he'd pull his damn pants back up and you could run out of there, never to see his face again.

You sigh heavily, "Omg this is....o-o-okay fine but....I'm not stroking it." You say nervously as you shakily reach your hand out blindly (as you still have your other hand covering up your eyes).

Roman chuckles at your innocence. He's never had a woman react to him this way. Sounds crazy, but it made him a little excited, intrigued, almost feeling animalistic like a predator amongst its prey. He was gonna break you in, starting now. However, it appeared you were having trouble with this simple task of touching his dick, let alone looking at it. Maybe you needed a little encouragement.

"Here, do this," Roman says as he grabs your hand and gently guides it around his dick. You instantly squeal upon contact with the thick flesh.

You couldn't believe it. It was a new sensation as your hand remained unmoving on the soft skin. You hear Roman slightly hiss and you grow scared. Had you unknowingly hurt him? Gripped him too tight?

"I'm so sorry. Sorry. Did I hurt you?" you apologize, releasing your hold on his flesh.

He chuckles deeply, "No, actually. You did quite the opposite. I'm sorry but I will try to contain myself a little better next time. Now, that wasn't so hard was it? Congratulations, you've touched a dick for the first time." He teases as he reaches down to pull his boxers and sweatpants back up.

"You can uncover your eyes now." He grins as you finally do that, heart racing in your chest.

"I....I-I...." you stutter, unable to recover from what just happened.

"Don't worry, you ain't gotta say much right now. I know you're perplexed. Look, it's almost time for SmackDown to start and I've held you up long enough....I'll see you later, okay?" he says as he sits back down on the couch, grabbing his shirt from the floor.

"O-okay...." You whisper as you hurry towards the door.

My eyes, my eyes, my eyes. My hand, my hand, my hand.

You couldn't get out of that room quick enough as you shut the door behind you. You were in such a rush that you didn't notice Jade and Naomi standing off to the side (having been engaged in conversation until they saw you), looking at you hurry away from the Tribal Chief's locker room. Jade had a scowl on her face whereas Naomi looked a little concerned. She knew the type of guy her cousin (by marriage) was and though you and her weren't friends (as you always kept to yourself), she didn't want to see you become just another hit and quit for Roman Reigns. No, you were above that. So, what were you doing in his locker room...alone....she wondered. She didn't know, but she'd speak with you later on tonight.

Your feet hurry towards your locker room, your appetite long gone. You were beyond perplexed and to make matters worse, there was a slight tingling, aching sensation in your nether region and it wouldn't go away. It was a foreign feeling to you.

"Oh God, I think I need a cold shower." You whine as you finally reach your private locker room, slamming the door shut behind you.

Tonight started off surprisingly...........but the Tribal Chief had more surprises for you to come..........

#roman reigns #wwe smut #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns imagines #roman reigns x black reader #the bloodline #wwe fanfiction

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star-hoon · 2 days

Text

OBSESSED (p. sunghoon) — PART 2

I’M SO OBSESSED WITH YOUR EX

READ PART 1 HERE — MASTERLIST

pairing: sunghoon x fem reader

includes/warnings (18+): best friend’s ex! au, eventual smut (mdni), praise kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex (pls don't), ANGST, profanity, arguing, broken friendship (sorta) (let me know if i missed anything!)

word count: 4.3k

synopsis: after sage catches you and sunghoon at the party, things change between all three of you. hidden emotions are unveiled and everyone does something they regret. the real question is...who?

author's note: omg thank you SO much to every person who read part 1! i'm so glad you guys liked it. this is dedicated to everyone who commented/requested for part 2 <3 you guys r all so sweet *hugs n squeezes*. pls look forward to my future works!

OBSESSED SOUNDTRACK

“SUNGHOON?!” both you and the raven haired boy whipped your heads in direction of his name that didn’t even get the chance to leave his lips.

holy. fuck. it was sage.

the sound of red solo cup hitting the pavement seemed to echo despite the bass of the party still booming from the house with the silence that fell between all three of you.

you were an absolute deer-in-headlights taking her equally shocked and disgusted expression. she's never looked at you like that.

you and sunghoon instantly push off each other; you flattening down your skirt and he combed through his hair, as if that would help both of your situations right now.

you felt as if you had blood all over your hands at a crime scene. what the fuck?! out of all the boys on the damn planet it had to be him?!

sunghoon. sunghoon. you just made out with park sunghoon. SAGE'S park sunghoon. your best friend's ex.

his name and sage's expression replayed in your mind. you were so. screwed.

you could feel your heartbeat in your ears and it felt difficult to breathe. so much so, you barely heard sunghoon be the first to say something.

"s-sage? h-h-hey uh how have you been? shit that must have been awkward for you to have seen that. jake didn't tell me he invited you..."

sage completely ignored sunghoon's remark, tunnel visioning on you.

"you've GOT to be kidding me y/n..." she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, slowly approaching you.

you felt like a child who had just been scolded. you wracked your brain for something to say, but nothing came out. despite how close you two were, sage always intimidated you. she could be stubborn and had a short temper, that thankfully you've learned to tame over the past year. but you knew this was beyond anything you could save yourself from.

"l-look sage i-i'm sorry okay, i can explain-"

"shit- wait you two know each other?!" sunghoon interjected. he had no idea what he just got himself into.

sage broke into laughter, clutching her stomach for dramatic effect. "wow this just got FUN didn't it?! let's play a little game. on the count of three, say how you know the person to your left. and it's okay if a word doesn't come to mind."

the last sentence clearly meant for sunghoon.

her tone of voice was honestly scaring you at this point, and you could sense that both you and her were internally reeling at the words that will be spoken into reality.

best friend. ex. .....

you just stood there frozen and sunghoon turned to you, seeing your mortified expression.

even though you and him just met, he already felt protective over you and with how psychotic his ex was acting...he knew things weren't right. he stepped slightly between you and sage, trying to guard you from her piercing gaze.

but she was one step ahead and moved even more to her left so she was still fully in your line of vision.

"what the fuck is going on sage? just answer the goddamn qu-"

sage cut sunghoon off once again, "3..2..1"

"best friend. ex. ....." you and sage responded in unison.

it was silent for just a moment, as you all stared at one another.

"well glad we got THAT out of the way, hope that answered your question hoonie-" you recoiled at her use of the nickname. she was bluffing and it just made you angry at this point.

"how the fuck was i supposed to know he's sunghoon?! i swear on my life you walked by right as i asked his name-" hot tears started to blur your vision.

people walking by were staring and whispering but you couldn't give less of a shit. she scoffed at what she only believed was an excuse.

"oh give. it. up. y/n! you know what, that's the problem with you. you ALWAYS act so innocent and like you're just the shy girl next door. i know you've always been jealous me. so much so you basically fucked my ex aka the first guy you saw at a party. who would have guessed how much of a slut you are."

tears started to run rampant down your cheeks. you couldn't believe sage would say all of this to you. is that how she really felt?

she walked up and leaned down to whisper something in your ear before walking off, the clicking sound of her heeled boots fading.

you just stood there and covered your face, the tears never stopping. you just couldn't look sunghoon or anyone in the eye after how embarrassed and humiliated you felt.

"hey hey... shhh baby it's okay" sunghoon removing your hands from your face, using his thumbs to gently wipe the ruined mascara from your cheeks. the pet name just rubbed salt in the wound.

he comforted you with soft kisses to your cheeks. he knew you weren't okay, how could you be after all of that? but he didn't quite know else to do or say in this situation.

you shoved him off of you. sage's whispered words ringing in your ears.

"i'm sorry sunghoon, i- i have to go. this was a total mistake-" your hiccuping voice barely getting the words out. you couldn't even look him in the eye and you just wanted to be anywhere else but there.

"wait y/n" he grabbed your wrist before you could run away from him. "look i get it if you never want to see me again after this, but the least i can do is give you a ride home."

your lip quivered as you stared up at him. the way he looked at you was so gentle, a stark contrast to how he looked at sage just a moment ago. it made your heart ache.

usually you would just brush off the offer but you were such a wreck, you knew you were in no state to make it home by yourself.

you just gave him a silent nod and you two walked to sunghoon's car in silence.

the silence persisted throughout the drive, aside from sunghoon asking for your address. sunghoon knew better than to ask questions.

your mind was anything from quiet, sage's whispered words replaying in your mind like a broken record.

"enjoy my sloppy seconds y/n, oh yeah...remember how i told you he said i was the best he's ever had?"

the sound of sunghoon opening his car door being the only thing snapping you out of your daze. he circled the car and opened your door for you.

"it's pretty late so i'll walk you to your door?"

'what a gentlemen' you thought. you felt like you were cinderella and he was your prince. but this was no fairytale.

you walked up the stairs, sunghoon trailing behind you. you stared at the faded blue paint of your apartment and turned around to part ways with sunghoon.

"thanks uh- for the ride. i'm sorry the night turned out like this-"

"i'm sorry about what sage said to you. she was hella out of line calling you those things..." you cringed at the memory. "...but what was the last thing she said to you?" you knew he was referring to what she whispered to you before she walked off.

you could not look him in the eye and tell him.

"she just told me to never text her again" you were sure your performance was convincing.

"y/n, please. tell me what she said. i know sage. i don't know what your guys' friendship's like, but if it's anything like while her and i were dating, she chooses her words wisely. she knows exactly what to say—especially if it's to hurt you."

shit, he read you like a book. you knew sage too. and you knew she would never lie or keep a secret from you—what she said must have been true.

"don't worry, that's what she said to me, promise."

he could tell you were lying, but you've been through enough in one night—he didn't want to cause a fuss.

"okay, just making sure" he huffed out a defeated sigh. "like i said, i get it if you never want to see again. but here's my number. i live only about a 5 minute drive from here so just in case you need anything or if anything with sage comes up, just gimme a call."

you stared down at his phone, contemplating for a few moments, but you eventually comply. a faint smile creeps on sunghoon's lips.

"for what it's worth y/n...i don't think tonight was a mistake. you made that party a hell of a lot more fun..." he chuckled trying to lighten the mood.

you couldn't bring yourself to quite say the same to him, so you just gave him a soft smile.

"thanks again sunghoon, goodnight."

you entered you apartment and made your way to your couch. you laid down and the threw your arm over your face, feeling tears threatening to fall once again.

you just curled up and drifted off to sleep, not even bothering to change your clothes or get ready for bed.

the only thing keeping you from losing your mind was the thought of sleep.

you woke up the next morning (much to your dismay) and barely made it through the day.

you and sage have never fought like this. you both swore to never let something as stupid as a boy get between you two. so many questions swirled in your head.

is that really how sage felt about you all this time?

you get why she's pissed, but is she not even willing to hear you out?

is she willing to let go of your guys' friendship that fast?

you filled your day cleaning your apartment and running way too many errands—being busy always helped you in times of stress. eventually the sun was setting through the blinds covering your bedroom window.

you had no idea how to handle this entire thing. and it was something you certainly didn't want to deal with alone.

you stare down at your phone biting the inside of your lip, your finger hovering over screen.

you knew this could make things that much more complicated, but you needed someone talk to.

calling 'park sunghoon'....

after a few rings, he finally picked up. your heart was beating out of your chest.

"hey, may i ask who's calling?"

"h-hi s-sunghoon, it's y'n"

there was a pause. you were cringing at yourself for stuttering so much, little did you know sunghoon was smiling like an idiot from the other end.

"hey y/n, didn't think you'd actually call...wait did something happen? did sage do anything to you?" concern suddenly lacing his tone.

"no not all. i was just calling to talk, i'm just super stressed about all of this..."

he let out sigh of relief, he thought you could have been hurt.

"aw i'm sorry, yeah that makes sense. did you want to talk in person? i can come over."

"yeah, that'd actually be great, thanks." you heard the sound of him picking up his keys.

"of course, i'll be there 5"

you open your front door after hearing a few soft knocks. you couldn't help but bite your lip at the sight front of you.

sunghoon wore a black hoodie, gray sweatpants, and glasses. a simple outfit but oh was it effective. you had to refrain from jumping on him right then and there.

"h-hey, thanks for coming over. sorry it was so late minute. please come in" you stepping aside and guiding him inside your apartment.

"yeah no problem. no need to apologize y/n, i was the one who offered to talk in person"

you just let out a soft laugh in response, cringing at your over-apologetic tendencies.

sunghoon smiled quietly watched you, finding it absolutely adorable how cute you were trying to be a good host. despite him being the one asking to come over and you two doing not so innocent things just the previous night.

you sit next to sunghoon on the couch. he scanned around your apartment, taking in all of your cute decor and trinkets.

"your apartment is so...cute. never would have guessed based on how you were acting last night" he smirked, teasing you.

you felt flustered as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"oh thanks" you looked down at your feet feeling shy. "yeah honestly i never really do that kinda thing at parties but i don't know, guess last night was different".

different he thought.

he just hummed in acknowledgment as a comfortable silence fell between you. it felt as if you both sucked in a breath in unison.

"y/n-"

"i-"

he speaks first, "of course you can rant to me about however you're feeling, but after thinking it over, i don't think you're in the wrong here y/n."

"she's my best friend sunghoon. and you're her ex boyfriend. is that not the first rule of girl code? i'm sure same thing applies to guys."

"okay sure i guess..." he licks his lips as he contemplates his next words "but sage and i broke up over a year ago. whatever we had, it's long gone. and unless she has lingering feelings for me, which i can tell she certainly doesn't, she should be more mature about this"

you nod silently, agree with everything he was saying.

"...and i know you were telling the truth when you told you had no idea it was me. because she quite literally was passing by as you asked for my name. so i genuinely think you did nothing wrong here"

"yeah that's true i guess" there's a pause as you take in his words.

"can i tell you what sage actually said to me last night?" you felt comfortable enough with him now to tell him and now were just more curious more than anything if what sage said was true.

"sage told me that you said she was the best you've ever had and i can enjoy her 'sloppy seconds'" you air-quoted the last two words with your fingers.

sunghoon's silence made your heart pound even faster. was it actually true? if so, this just made you even more embarrassed.

he eventually just scoffed which turned into a breathy laugh.

"oh man, sage sure is funny." he shakes his head at what you assume is disbelief. "i'm not sure if she got me mixed up with another park sunghoon, but i never said that."

you felt a huge weight was taken off your chest. sunghoon caught your sigh of relief.

"i'll be honest though, sage and i dated for a good amount of time, but i mean clearly we broke up for a reason. and i cannot stress enough that i do not have feelings for her at all. especially not after meeting you."

he puts his large palm on your knee, rubbing it soothingly.

you look down at the comforting gesture, a single tear falls down onto the back of his hand.

what the hell, why were you crying? sure, you were stressed about the situation but you didn't think it made upset enough to make you cry.

you had been beating yourself up about all of this since sage said those harsh words to you. you had started to believe that maybe what she said was true and that an ordinary girl like you had no business with a guy as like sunghoon. feelings of embarrassment, frustration, and guilt were eating you alive.

but after hearing sunghoon be in your corner, him saying you did nothing wrong, and finding out sage made up what she said somehow made you feel forgiven.

the small salty puddle on sunghoon's hand surprised you just as much as it did him.

he turns to meet your eyes, making you look at him "hey, what's wrong?" he pouts at your misty eyes, wiping the second stray tear before it could fall on your cheek.

"i-i'm sorry i don't even know why i'm crying. this whole thing was taking a bigger toll on me than i thought. just thank yo-"

he couldn't resist and crashes his lips into yours. his hand coming cradle the side of your face.

you let out a noise of surprise, not expecting him to kiss you so suddenly. you surrendered to him quickly though, not realizing how much you missed the taste of his lips. he deepend the kiss, his hand creeping up to thread through the hair at your nape neck, pulling slightly.

you let out a soft moan at the feeling, your parted lips leaving the perfect opportunity for him to slip is tongue into your mouth.

the sound of your lips smacking and heavy breathing filled the room. the heavy makeout eventually left you breathless. he pulled away but you still chased his lips.

he rested his forehead against yours signaling you he needed a breather. the eye contact and tension felt suffocating—the way you looked at him made his heart burst. your eyes were shiny were so shiny and wide, anticipating his next move. your cheeks flushed and lips slightly parted. your tank top and cotton shorts made his mind run wild. but he wanted to explore what was underneath.

he reached to remove your tank top and bra, and your shorts not long after leaving you in just your panties. he took off his shirt and hoodie, leaving him in just his sweats. the sight alone made you soaked through your panties.

he took in the sight on your almost bare figure on top of his, reaching to grope and feel your body. he attached his lips to your neck, sucking and biting the same sensitive spots he remembered from last night "you drive me fucking crazy y/n" he whispered against your skin.

his lips wandered down from your neck to your chest eventually taking a nipple into his mouth, the feeling of his hot tongue driving your desire for even into oblivion. he made sure to attend to the other one by pinching it with his other hand.

"f-fuck s-sunghoon..."

you began to grind on him, feeling his dick already hard through his sweatpants. his veiny hands wandered to the flesh of your outer thighs and hips, gripping your skin tightly savoring the feeling of your skin against his.

you pressed harder against him, finding the right rhythm of your hips on his, making him throw his head back, his eyes rolling slightly. the delicious sensation of your grinding his boner making him bite his lip staring at you. he crossed his arms behind his head, making his defined muscular arms even more prominent in the dim lighting of the room.

"yeah, grind on that dick baby, feel how hard i am for you?... see what you do to me?" his voice lower than normal, laced with nothing but lust.

"p-please..." you whined, his words making you work your hips even more fervently against his.

understanding your plea, he guided your back to lay flat on the couch climbing on top you, his arms on both sides of your head. the cold metal his delicate silver chain grazed the skin of your chest and neck, contrasting your hot skin.

you pulled him by the chain to kiss you again, your hands feeling his chest and biceps. his hands felt up your body once again, taking in every curve and dip from your breast to your hips, eventually playing with the hem on your panties.

"may i, sweetheart?" god, was he trying to make you fall in love with him?

you gave him a nod biting your lip. he slowly pulled your lace panties down your legs, creating a string of sticky arousal. you had never been so turned on in your life.

his fingertips ghosting the skin of your thighs, eyeing your bare body under his. you started to suddenly feel shy under his intense gaze, hiding your face in your arm and closing your thighs.

he gently pulled your arm away and tapped your knees to part your legs.

"don't hide baby, i wanna see your face, you're so beautiful...fuck you're so wet... all for me?"

"mhm...all for you- oh fuck" you breathily moaned as his fingers circled your clit, spreading your arousal. the feeling of his fingertips alone had your head spinning. he slowly inserted his fingers into your core, your walls sucking them in.

"jesus princess, you're so tight" he groaned as thrusts his fingers languidly, your juices starting to drip onto his palm. the squelching noise echoed in the room as you squirmed beneath him.

with the way that your back was arching and your walls clenching around him, he knew you were close. "you close sweetheart? wanna come all over my fingers?"

"fuck, yes please! your fingers feel so good. i- i wanna come" you whined desperately. his fingers speeding up as his thumb expertly rubbed your clit.

"such a good girl. come for me" a few more rubs from his fingers as your walls spasmed around him.

when he finally pulled his fingers out, you whined at the suddenly empty feeling. he kissed you once again, finding you all too adorable. "you did so good for me baby, ready for my dick?"

"please sunghoon, i need you" he pulled away taking off his sweats and boxers. the sight of his perfect cock made your mouth water: it was so hard, veiny, and red. his size making you question if he would fit in you.

he quickly climbed on top of you again, giving your cheek and neck light kisses while rubbing his cock through your folds, wetting his dick. when his tip grazed your clit you couldn't help but mewl at the feeling, your hands threading through his hair.

"fuck, please put in" you begged shamelessly. he bottomed out inside of you, biting his lip as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. he let you adjust to his size before thrusting slowly but deeply.

"s-shit you're so fucking tight y/n fuck" he groaned into your neck, leaving love bites. his could feel every vein of his dick and the fullness felt so good. so right.

his hands wandered to the small of your back, making you arch into him making him hit your g-spot. you nearly screamed into his neck at the feeling. his rhythm started to falter, your kisses getting messier and you were nearing your highs.

"s-sunghoon, please i'm c-close" you said in between whines and moans.

"fuck, me too sweetheart" he has never finished so damn fast during sex before but your pussy felt like it was made for him. he rubbed your clit once again, wanting nothing more than to give you the most pleasure possible.

"come on, be a good girl and come for me. cream all over my cock baby... you're better than she ever was". his words making the knot snap in your build up of euphoria. you moaned loudly a mixture of curses and his name, waves of pleasure washing over you.

sunghoon finished not long after, pulling out and fisting his dick to cum all over your stomach and thighs—making you his. he looked down at the sight beneath him and he never wanted to look away.

your head thrown back and jaw slack, your cheeks still flushed. your heavy breathing and still sensitive body twitching. he rubbed your clit to prolong your high until you pushed his hand away, feeling overstimulated.

sunghoon leaned down to give soft kisses to your lips and forehead, before running to the kitchen to grab a paper towel wet with some warm water to clean you up.

the way was gently wiping your skin, leaving kisses here and there made your heart ache.

"hoon..." his eyes immediately meeting yours at the pet name, his heart skipping a beat. "...can you stay the night?"

he smiled and pecked your lips, "i thought you'd never ask"

sage eventually reached out to you 2 weeks after jake's party and you two made amends. she apologized for what she said and acknowledged that things will probably never be the same with you two, but still wishes you and sunghoon the best.

"so, how did the call with sage go?" sunghoon asked from your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. you and sunghoon continued to hangout almost every day since that first night, and the more you go to know him, the harder you fell.

you two started to grow so close that could tell what he was thinking and he didn't even have to say anything.

"well, things for sure will never be the same between us that's for sure, but i think we both got closure from all of this." you said with a sigh.

he walked over to you silently, his hair down and slightly messy from sleep. his fingers fidgeted around the coffee mug and his lips smacking together making the 'tsk' they always do when he's about to say something but holds back.

"did you wanna tell me something?" you gestured him to come closer to you. you put your hands around his neck and he put his around your waist. you leaned your forehead up to his and his lips quirked up on the side.

"y/n, will you go on a date with me?" you couldn't hold back a smile as you kissed him passionately.

who would have guessed you could be so obsessed with your best friend's ex?

taglist: @luv-jungwon106 @gudkc @gyuoonz

ramblings: literally had a fever writing the second half lol pls tell me if this is bad bc i cannot even tell also this is my first time writing smut so i apologize if it just wasn't smexy at all ahHH

+ (also sage is actively the worst in this part lol, she is saur annoying and lowkey crazy)

thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think <3

reblogs, likes, & comments are always appreciated!!

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dark-and-kawaii · 18 hours

Text

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Tease ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

⋆˙⟡♡ Summary: You aren’t sure when teasing your sensei over text became such a ritual, but honestly you wouldn’t want it to be with anyone else. You just never expected him to show up at your door.

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: (Y/N) is aged up to 18 and is a third year!!! Please enjoy!!

(Y/n): “I just want you to know how disappointed I am in you, Sensei."

You decided to tease him over text.

(Y/n): “Ya know what you did is technically illegal, right?”

Ghoejo Sensei: “~Oh?”

(Y/n): “Mhmm.”

Ghoejo Sensei: “~It’s only illegal if you didn’t like it, but you liked it. Didn’t you?”

With a subtle twitch, you giggle at the memory from earlier…

You and Itadori were training with the others while Gojo Sensei observed everyone from his spot on the school building. Exhausted, you had decided to grace him with your presence, joining him leaned back against the same wall.

“Aren’t you going to get in there and rough us up, Sensei?”

He could feel your beaming warm smile. Just being around you made his day.

Laughing, Gojo’s voice was filled with pure excitement as always when with you, “Nah, i like watching everyone get thrown around…” -his voice was low so only you could hear-, “…(y/n), you really shouldn’t wear such a short skirt during training.”

“Oh?! Why’s tha-“

“Some might try to sneak a peek.”

That damn smirk of his practically had you melting while your face felt like it was about to catch on fire.

“S-Sensei? W-why would you say that!?”

Just as you were about to adjust your skirt, you heard the unmistakable snap of a camera shutter, indicating that a photo was being taken on a phone. Glancing down where the noise had come, you were shocked -not really- to discover your sensei positioning his phone under your skirt at an angle where he could see right between your legs…

Staring at the screen, you could see your black lace panties staring back at you as he tried to get another good shot.

He’s never been so bold like this in front of other students… Let alone out in the open on school property. If one of the others saw anything you- fuck, or the higher ups… you both would be kicked off the grounds and- and- oh god the reputation!

Gojo’s would be tarnished and you- … Okay you didn’t really have a reputation to worry about, but still! You damn well would after everyone finds out you’ve been sleeping with the famous sorcerer, also known as your Sensei!! This was far too risky of him-

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Gojo never once looked in your direction, “~Shhh… No one saw, (y/n). Go back to training though, before i puni-”

“Hey! (Y/n)! Are you coming back!” Itadori was waving for you to come back over to them, his foot on Megumi’s back.

Now here you are, back in your room, lying on your bed with restless legs as you texted your beloved Sensei.

(Y/N): “I didn’t say I enjoyed it, Sensei 🥺.”

You tried to make the text sound innocent, but you knew how he liked to play games. So, why not play along?

(Y/n): “What did I gain by you snapping a photo? Perhaps I should tell the higher ups?”

GhoeJo Sensei: “~Oh ho, are you threatening me little girl?”

Chuckling to yourself, you could just picture the smug expression on Gojo's face. He wasn't intimidated by you at all, and you were well aware of it. Yet, you found the whole situation amusing.

(Y/n): “Noooo, never! …But… what if I confided in Itadori? Sukuna would hear what happened, and I don’t think he’d like that all too well, now would he?”

Although you couldn't see it, Gojo's playful smile vanished immediately as he read your latest text. He spent several minutes just looking at the screen. It was true, Sukuna had grown quite fond of you- to an extent that was hard to ignore. Sukuna had even managed to gain control over Yuji, solely to rescue you from a special grade curse. On another occasion, Sukuna took control of Itadori's arm, just to drape it around your waist according to what Yuji had told him… And there was that time the notorious king of curses forcibly broke down your room’s door...

Not even realizing how hard he was holding his phone, Gojo’s eyes snapped open fully to the sound of his delicate screen cracking… “tsk..”

Several minutes passed before his phone chimed. It took him a moment to register that you had sent him a photo, a close up shot at that, and it left little to the imagination. You were pulling up your thong so that the contours of your pussy lips could be seen through the thin fabric. Gojo took note of the small little damp spot… It was a simple yet effective tease, but before he could fully appreciate the image, another photo arrived.

In this one, the fabric was pulled taut, accentuating the details even more explicitly. This time, you were pulling up your panties high enough so that they were digging into your crotch, exposing those sweet little pussy lips he could lap at all day long.

(Y/n): “That’s what you wanted, right Sensei? You know if you just wanted photo’s all you had to do was ask 😉.”

After pressing the send button, you swiftly undressed shedding each layer of fabric from your body. As you stripped down the anticipation grew, wondering what your sensei might have in store for you. The silence that followed the Sukuna text left you questioning if it had truly affected him though…

Now completely naked, you position yourself on the bed, ready to capture one final enticing image. On your knees, your tongue playfully extended from your mouth, while your lips form a 'O' shape. With the camera angled just right, it captures the perfect view deep down your throat. Using your free hand, you do your best to mimic the imagery of holding a cock next to your plump lips mouth, your drool cascading down the corners of your lips…

(Y/n): *image*

Ghoejo Sensei: “You’re such a naughty girl for me. ~I’m gonna have to spank you the next time I see you.”

Taking a deep breath you press your face into your bed, raising your ass in the air. Your arm stretched back with your phone, positioning it so that your wet folds could be captured along with your ass.

(Y/n): *image*

Ghoejo Sensei: “Are you touching yourself to my texts, baby girl? Is that tight little pussy craving my attention?"

Your hips moved back and forth as the pad of your middle finger slowly rubbed your clothed clit. It was so sensitive that just the slightest touch would cause a small jolt through your body.

(Y/n): “wouldn’t you like to know.”

Ghoejo Sensei: voice message

Pressing play on the voice message, you can hear the rustling of sheets and clothes being thrown around. Your body shivers when his voice begins.

Ghoejo Sensei: “Don’t worry, daddy will come take care of you.”

A soft whimper leaves your lips. Closing your eyes, you imagine your tall, lean sensei standing in the doorway. His head tilted slightly downward, allowing the shadows to conceal his face except for that damn smug smile…

You could feel your face flush, this was so embarrassing… What if someone barged in your room… Especially Itadori, well Sukuna… Burying the thought deep within your head, you lift your phone above your ass again with the camera pointed down and with your other hand you did your best to spread open your delicate asshole. With a snap and a simple click, you send it…

(Y/n): “I’m ready and waiting.”

Gojo was lying on his bed, his pants undone, hand pumping his cock slowly. With each text he would read, his hand would increase its speed.

(Y/n): *image*

When he saw the last photo, his phone was practically crushed by his tight grip. He could feel his balls tighten as precum began to spill from the tip of his thick cock, the veins swollen around it giving it a nice texture. The sight of your tight hole had him biting his lip as the image replayed in his head, and the fact that you were spreading your asshole to reveal it just for him made him cum instantly.

He could barely breathe, his chest rising and falling as his cum spurted across his chest. His head was thrown back as he released a strangled groan, “such a naughty little tease”.

Of course he wasn’t tired quite yet, he had the stamina of a god and he became rock hard once again. He already looked at you differently from his other students and now after this he really wasn’t going to be able to look at you as just his student he’s having a fling with again. You were a sexual object to be desired now, someone he wished to keep forever, but at this very moment he would give anything to be the reason your asshole was gapping in this picture or why you were drooling in your first photo.

Ghoejoe: “You should come sneak in my room, again.”

You didn’t obliged, instead you sent a string of photos detailing you fingering your ass and probing your slick pussy with two fingers after. Playing with your breasts, rolling your nipples between your fingers, you even captured yourself throwing your head back as you tugged on one of your nipples, as if you were a cow ready to be milked.

You had to admit to yourself that you loved doing this, spreading your legs like some whore for her sensei… The thought alone sent shivers of pleasure throughout your entire body.

Gojo: *image*

It was a photo of his beautiful cock, the head still a deep red and swollen. His thick shaft was covered in his own cum and a bit of precum. You could feel the juices leaking from your pussy as you stared at the photo.

Grabbing your pink vibrator from your dresser you pressed it into your welcoming pussy, your eyes glued to the photo the entire time. Turning the dial to its max setting, the buzzing could be heard as you slid the toy in and out. Pulling the toy out, you quickly placed the head to your sensitive clit, rolling it around your nub. The thought of his large hands on you again was turning you into a moaning mess, you could feel your juices slip past your toy and onto the sheets, could feel yourself cream around the base of it. Fuck, why couldn’t he be here with you now, you needed your sensei, needed your Satoru to come take care of you.

Your hand was trembling making it hard to hold onto your phone yet you still managed to capture a photo of you mid orgasm. There was a stream of clear liquid in the frame, your face full of shock at having squirted was apparent. You couldn’t believe how dirty you felt, it was intoxicating.

“~Oh baby girl, you’re so filthy! Look at you, you’ve gone and made quite the mess.”

Your phone flung across the room while you made the cutest little yip noise, your legs shutting together at the surprise voice. Gojo appeared in your room, his heavenly blue eyes peering at your from behind his sunglasses. His large hands come to your knees and parted your legs so he can rub between your pussy lips with his thumb…

“S-Sensei… I- Why are you h-here…?” Your voice was so cute to him, you could barely even speak as he rubs your slick entrance. “You know why i’m here, (y/n). Now, why don’t you tell me what a dirty little girl you are, and maybe I won't have to punish you so hard this time, hm? Tell your sensei how much you were enjoying yourself and maybe I'll let you suck on this cock.”

He leaned down, his head between your legs. Goosebumps forming whenever his snowy hair tickles your soft thighs. With no hesitation he sticks his tongue out to licks up your folds, lapping up your arousal from before.

“Mmm… Sensei~♡! I-i'm a dirty girl- A dirty little whore for you~!” His tongue was licking all over, teasing your clit with each swipe. He had one hand keeping your legs apart and the other was gripping the sheets.

“Tell me what you're a whore for, baby girl~.” His hot breath against your wet pussy, the way his nose nudges against your sensitive nub.

“I-I'm a dirty- A dirty little cockwhore, S-sensei~. I want you- Need your cock in my- ah~! in my mou-mouth, in my pus- pussy, my ass~~~♡!!”

The way your hips bucked with every swipe of his tongue, the way your breathing was uneven and shaky. Oh the sounds you were making, the moans, the whimpers. His eyes almost rolled back at the feeling of your juices against his tongue, his lips, “That’s my girl.”

Before you could scream his name you bit down on your lip to silence yourself. You can’t afford to have someone hear this… Not when these walls were so thin… You were finally getting what you wanted tonight, attention from your sensei, Gojo Satoru, and you wanted nothing more than to scream his name… But with Sukuna around, quite literally on the other side of these walls, the price you’d pay would be far greater if he heard you and Gojo going at it…

As your back arches, he moves his hand to press it firmly down on your lower abdomen, a way of trying to pin you down as his tongue delves deeper. You were so close to coming undone, your body was trembling.

Gojo knows he’ll drag this out since it was his favorite form of punishment. And he also knows you hold back your noises so that Sukuna wouldn’t hear, and he knows its for your own safety… However, you had him to protect you, he wouldn’t allow anything to happen to you.

Pulling back from between your legs, you both make eye contact, your chest rising with every heavy breath you take…

“(y/n), don’t hold it back… Say my name tonight. Let him hear it, let him know who you belong to tonight.”

A blush forms as you realize what he said.

Gojo wants him to hear you tonight, to hear how good you were for him. To know that he had a claim on his favorite little student…

“B-but…”

“Tut tut, no buts my sweet little cinnamon swirl. The only buts i’m allowing is this one.” He squeezes your ass, earning another cute little noise from you.

“Goj-Satoru… You- I.. We ca-can’t get caught by anyone though.” There’s tears in your eyes, he can see you’re genuinely afraid for him, not for you…

“(y/n). Let me handle the higher ups and everyone else.” Looking down, he watches as your pussy glistens with his saliva… His thumb brushing over your skin, “I’ve always wanted a good excuse to piss off the higher ups,” -His features soft- “You’re a good reason to fight them, so let’s just enjoy ourselves tonight, and don’t worry about Sukuna.”

His lips came down onto yours tenderly, as if you had both been lovers for years. Your eyes shut tight as his tongue glides across your bottom lip, requesting permission to enter. Opening your mouth, his tongue delves into the warm cavern and his cock twitches.

“I’m stronger after all.” He sticks his tongue out at you with a wink before thrusting his cock inside of your waiting pussy. You cry out his name, arching your back so far that it hurt, but the pain was forgotten as soon as you felt his hot cock buried deep within your needy pussy.

“Tonight, let me hear you scream my name.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #Gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk satoru #Satoru #sukuna #sukuna x reader

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valsdelulucorner · 2 days

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Malleus head cannons<3

Malleus is isolated a lot due to his status and his reputation. He is the next ruler of the Briar valley, one of the most powerful mages in all of the land, of course people who have heard of him would be intimidated. When he met you, he was surprised to find out you had no idea who he was, so he took this to his advantage. It was refreshing to just talk with someone freely that wasn't Lillia and his family, having fun with someone who wasn't afraid of saying what's on their mind.

When you found out Tsunotaro actually Malleus draconia, he was quite surprised to find you still treating him like how you did before. He was glad to still have a friend after his identity was discovered by you, it was so refreshing to have someone treat him like a friend and not the next prince of briar valley

I love the idea that Malleus doesn't really know how to use a phone, and the only reason he got a phone was to talk with you and his Diasomnia family. He will randomly use you as google, sending random questions to you such as; "different gargoyle types?" "how to make friends?" "what do humans like to do for fun?" "Does Yuu like Gargoyles?" "Malleus, this isnt google" "How to google"

Malleus sneaks into ramshackle sometimes when he wants to see you, easily walking through the front door or going through one of the broken walls that Crowley refused to fix (I'm so generous my ass). He sometimes scares you when he sneaks in, his footsteps barely make any noise so if your cooking or studying with grim, he can just walk up behind you and scare you. He doesn't mean to but he finds it amusing how you jump

If you invite him over for a sleepover or a study date at ramshackle, he will be ecstatic! He's never had a sleepover with a friend before so he will do research on human sleepovers, even asking Lillia for advice and knowledge about this. He will show up with his sleeping bag, bag of clothes, and even some snacks Lillia said humans like best during sleepovers. If its a study date and a sleepover, he will help you with anything you need while you eat snacks and chill in your pjamas. Grim will sit on your lap or your shoulders the entire time, getting abit protective of you while you and Malleus talk the night away.

He had the best time with you! When will be the next sleep over child of man? He had alot of fun just hanging out with you, getting to know you better and getting a better learning about what humans do during these sleep overs. He will 100% bring some games over for you guys to play, teaching you about the games he played in the briar valley while you teach him about games you played from your world. He would even let you do his hair if you ask nicely, it was such a nice break for him to just be around you and not have to worry about his duties for a night. He will defiantly ask you over for a sleepover at Diasomnia, just be careful not to run into sebek

Imagine if the boys didn't find out that you both were friends after Vil overblotted but during a lunch break or during class. While sitting with your group, Malleus comes over to your table and sits down with you, happily starting a conversation with you while everyone on and around your table freaks out about how your so calm. Or during a Gym class, malleus spots you out on the field struggling with your broom so he comes over and helps you, teaching you how to properly ride it while the students around you fly all the way to the other side of the field, shocked your speaking so freely with the Diasomnia dorm head

If you guys ever start dating, he will be very happy but nervous. God forbid you tell the first years, Sebek would be screaming in your ear for a few hours straight while Ace shakes your shoulders. Deuce and epel will be worried, asking if you know what your in for and jack will just be quietly staring at you with worry in the background, trying to tune out the shrill screams of grim. If Malleus randomly appears behind you while this goes down, ace immediately lets you go and scatters back with the rest while Sebek will be asking Malleus if he's sure he wants to be with a human like you. He and sebek are in for a long talk after that

If you guys get to the point where you both physically affectionate, he loves to lay his head in your lap while you play with his hair, softly talking about his day, gargoyles, his family, his history and everything with you. He enjoys these quite moments with you when you both can just be yourselves with each other, holding each other softly while you both speak about anything that comes to mind

If you come to twisted wonderland as a sculptor or a artist, lord he can see the wedding. He absolutely loves watching you work and seeing the fruits of your labor come to fruition. He will ask you if you can make gargoyles for him, even if you are a beginner artist he will still love to see you make one. If you make him a miny gargoyle keychain out of clay or resin, he will love you forever. He will never be without his little keychain, he keeps it in perfect condition and will be absolutely devastated if it breaks

Will call you "my thorn" "Child of man" "darling" "my muse" "my rose"

When I tell you this man would get so protective over you is a understatement, he will use his status to scare off anyone that tries to bully you or make a move on you. Someone confesses to you? Suddenly they are avoiding you like the plague but don't worry child of man, he is there to wipe your tears. Someone is bullying you? Don't question why they moved schools, maybe they weren't cut out for such a prestigious school

"I know you, i walked with you once apon a dream" "I know you, that gleam in your eyes is so familiar agleam"

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

Lmao broke my arm today

I Love malleus but this was the first time I've ever written for him so this was a lot more difficult then I expected. He was alot of fun to write for though, please excuse my writing, im still trying to improve

Who should I do next?

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zombieplaygrounds · 14 hours

Text

cw: drunk sex, car sex, casual intercourse, not proof read

Simon - a man intimidating on several different levels - did not know how to handle a crying girl. Especially not one of your caliber, drunk, babbling to him about god knows what. All he could do was sip his shitty liquor, stare at you and your group of friends giggling behind you. And of course you just had to blurt out magic fucking words: "Do you think I'm ugly?" He took a moment, not out of hesitance, but consideration; you and your big glossy eyes, flushed face, even the messy hair somehow you-

"No." Simon's voice was a low rumble, and for a moment it comforted you, made you shut your eyes and nod for a bit. Only a bit, before you choked out another sob.

"Then why does he not wanna fuck me?" It was immature, really. Simon shouldn't enlighten your bold behavior, but he couldn't help it. You were cute. But that didn't change anything. You were still sobbing before him, rubbing your face raw of steaming hot tears and drunken frustration. Ruining your pretty face. Simon leaned back for a moment, considering your words. Whoever broke your heart was a real, damn idiot.

Sure, you were a bit whiny, annoying; but it was easily overlooked with how sweet you seemed. Maybe it was the drinks Simon had indulged in himself, because he was actually considering this.

Another choked cry from you rushed him to blurt out his next words, "I'll fuck ya."

Something about your silence said more than words did. God, forgive him for relishing in this small victory - you were a virgin. Evident by your slight hesitance in his words, the flinch, the cute quivering lip like you really wanted it. But you were scared. Smart girl, should honestly know better than to fuck this big, scary man. And still -

"Okay." You nodded, huffed. Your friends by now had wandered off to do whatever the fuck drunk gals do. Looked just about as broken up as you were. Simon chuckled a bit, pocketed his keys, wallet, and offered your hand a place in his.

It was shocking, the moment you felt the scarred callouses along his palms. It made him laugh breathily, "Like it, do ya?"

"Mhm..!" Such a puppy. You practically scooted a snuggle against his arm, wrapping around his muscles while he led you out. Didn't deserve to be fucked in a bar like a common whore; he'd give you the benefit of some privacy with his darkened windows, turn the cooler on so the heat of the moment didn't overwhelm you so much.

You were so compliant, something he'd be sure to correct if this ever went anywhere; couldn't have you seeking cock from just anyone. But Simon understood, poor thing. You needed your pussy to be filled up, and he was willing to help you out. Let you cry on his cock, tighten up just a bit as your arousal drooled down and stained his pants with your fast orgasm.

Your hands attempting to cover your face, which Simon just couldn't have. He'd correct that with a single hand, tightening your wrist in his grip and holding them behind you. His freehand guiding your hips, while he tutted praises against your breasts. Panting roughly, either he was out of shape, or you felt much better than he anticipated.

Regardless, you were reduced to nothing but a mewling bitch. Burying your face against him while be babied you with each thrust. "Poor doll, needed someone to show your place. mm?"

"Don't worry, bird, Simon's gonna make ya feel real good."

#simon mw #simon x reader #cod simon #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #smut #tw: intoxication #tw: drunk sex #zombieplayground #zombieplaygrounds

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livwritesstuff · 20 hours

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Hazel posts a tiktok that starts with her and Steve sitting together in front of the camera.

Hazel: Okay

Hazel: Dad’s away on a book tour and he doesn’t have TikTok so Pop and I are gonna share things we hope he doesn’t find out about when he gets back.

Hazel: I’ll go first.

Hazel: I hope he doesn’t find out I accidentally deleted our Minecraft world and then I had to figure out how to recover it.

Hazel: Also – I hope he doesn’t find out how much I played without him.

Steve: *snorts*

Steve: Uhh…I hope he doesn’t find out I never filled the bird feeders.

Hazel: Yeah, that’s no good.

Steve: We really should just call them squirrel feeders. The bird probably didn’t even notice.

Hazel: True.

Hazel: I hope Dad doesn’t find out about all the times I got Girl Scout cookies and didn’t share any with him.

Steve: I hope he doesn’t find out we met Robbie’s boyfriend two weeks ago.

Hazel: It’s fine. She already dumped him.

Steve: Yeah, but you know that he and Moe like to be all intimidating together.

Hazel: That’s true. Moe did a pretty good job on her own though.

#moe is the epitome of *guard dog older sister*#liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson #hazel's tiktok page

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chosokamosbf · 2 days

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ᑎIGᕼT ᒪIT ᗪEᔕIᖇE.

☆ 18+ only/no minors. | jason todd x gn! reader.

SUMMARY: a nsft fic waking up jason from a nightmare by bringing him to the edge

WARNINGs: 18+, (consensual) somnophilia, gn! reader, (jason receiving) oral, nightmares, minor mentions of blood and scarring.

WORD COUNT: 1600+

NOTEs: second person & no plot. ["babe/baby," and no pronouns used to refer to the insert/reader.]

Sprayed over silk sheets of a bed with more than enough space, in your all-consuming unconsciousness, your body managed to wedge itself in close to your boyfriend, where your head is settled right in the empty space of his shoulder. The weather hasn't been kind of as late, and so all fabrics other than the blankets pushed to the very edge of the mattress hours ago are short to combat the heat.

It hasn't helped much. The fan Jason had set up on your side to turn in place is losing the war as you're both covered in sweat. It isn't made any better by the fact he's been using that shoulder to cradle your head from underneath, the rest of the arm resting over your chest.

The deepening of this velvet night is broken to a steady close as he stirs hard enough to knock you out of that position.

You slowly blink the fog from your mind and rub the crust from your eyes with the one arm that isn't being partially buried under his weight.

The city pours in through even the smallest cracks between the curtains, enveloping their own designated areas in multicolored amalgamations of beams formed from sirens and electrified billboards nearby. It seeps over the sheets until it's reached the ceiling, leaving Jason's arms painted in its light, giving a full show of just how much they're twitching.

The other couple in the complex, whom you have gotten to know real well from their screaming matches (as muffled as they may be), seated only a few apartments away, have nothing on how loud his heaving is getting.

His face is turned away now, and you get up on your elbows to find pale lids pinched tightly together, brows in a deep, settled frown. It's not a far cry from what usually makes him intimidating under the helm, but there's a pout pulling at his lips all the while.

Recently, there's been no notable injuries, but his hands have found either one of his arms just to hold them steady and prod his fingers into anyway.

Sometimes your voice is enough alone to call him out of his head with how much he loves it. "Jason?"

He stays in place, and you sit up to speak his name into the night again while your fingertips trail down an arm.

This time around, a groan answers your inquiry.

His forehead is slick with a growing layer of sweat. The white tank top he was just teasing you about after catching wandering eyes earlier in the night is stuck to his broad chest, and barely is it settling with every pant.

"Jason, you okay?"

It's always an uphill race with the few hours of rest he's allowed in between 'work.' Some days are better than others, and this clearly isn't one of them.

If plain intuition is serving you well, it's another nightmare.

Your teeth catch on your lower lip. "Baby?"

Rationality by damned, your voice stays weak as the thought of waking him up properly stays just that, a thought.

At worst, Jason's going to get moody if you interrupt his sleep, and he'll carry that over into the morning. Sure, he's trying to get better at communicating, but leaving behind the go-to of never doing just that has given way to taking hours to open up. Still, he doesn't seem like he's enjoying the dream.

There are a thousand or so possibilities as to what this one is exactly about, and you don't need to be a genius to know that he might head straight to the bathroom to get rid of the nasty pit in his stomach by the end of it. As much as you'll usually do your best to help out yesterday's dinner and hold his hair up if need be, there has to another option.

And there is.

Unconventional as it may be, you've talked about it before. When exactly is a fuzzy memory. At best, it stirred from another night of endless rambling, something to fill the silence when you both were left awake.

Most others he's all by himself when he gets back. It isn't the worst, as long as he isn't bleeding to death. Put away everything and make sure nothing gets on the carpet—a steady tradition. Sometimes, he's left with excess energy, though.

He mostly took the offer with little chance in his mind that he'd use it. The rules were set, and Jason made it clear that it was allowed on either side. Wasn't like he was going to make much use of it anyway.

And technically, he hasn't. Three times over a year or so ago, and each one was a gentle transition back into consciousness before he'd shown just how much he appreciated it: appreciated you.

Carefully, you get his nails to pull away from his skin and settle him on his back again. His shirt has etched up over the night, leaving his stomach and the happy trail growing across to the melt-worthy temps.

Trying hard not to wake him up, you press your head onto his chest, slowly rubbing down on his belly.

Instantly, his breathing stutters.

Even in sleep, he's so gorgeous it hurts to even look at him, not in spite of the stubborn scowl still hanging on his mouth. Those thick eyelashes frame closed eyes. Instead of them blinking awake, his head rolls back over to the side, and the long-since healed gash sprayed over his neck gets stretched into the light peering into your two's home before he's yawning.

And you exhale softly. It feels as if you're breathing in nothing. You swallow hard—once, then twice—and inch your hand past the waistband of his boxers.

He's warm in your palm, and then his breath hitches while you freeze in place.

But Jason doesn't make a move to break your hold on him.

In slow strokes, your hand wrapped around the thick of it glides across, using the pre-cum to make it easier on the both of you. It's not taking much for his cock to start holding up on its own at the attention, but it's taking up the space you need. Your wrist is going to sting in the morning either way, but still.

Gaining more courage, you dare lift your head and softly kiss his cheek.

You form a better grip around it, continuing to kiss every scar and the edge of his lips while your thumb circles the cockhead. A leg swings over another, and the purrs he's basically humming out by now—his lips sealed in his sleep—nearly muffle how the bed creaks when you move to take place between his.

After grabbing the elastic band of his underwear, you slowly pull it down enough for the length to slip free, already drooling and half-hard.

You lean down to slide your tongue down the side to see if that wakes him up, and it doesn't.

The taste of him coats your tongue, and you hollow your cheeks, gradually taking it down till it's almost hitting your throat. The second a groan slips, undiscouraged even through the girth, your hands come around his hips to settle them back down more gently after they subconsciously jerked forward.

Musk overwhelms your senses. Your head tilts up to find through lashes that an arm's moved to rest over his forehead.

Bobbing your head in tune with the same shaky movements moments ago, you suck on the flushed tip, the nib throbbing hot and insistent, pinning your tongue down.

It starts off quiet, but then the breathy moan filling your ears begins to overshadow the whirling fan. What you can't fit down your throat, you use your hands to give equal attention to. Your face slots closer to his taint to kiss at his balls with spread lips.

Thighs flex over and press against either side of your head, clenching and undoing their tense stances every few seconds while the sheets shift with the writhing further up the bed. You grant yourself time to breathe before kissing the head and then trying to take his thick cock back inside.

So deep into the intimacy, your eyes close just to feel a hand in your hair. A sharp tug pulls you off to see the dark curled back over you.

Seeing him from your angle below, there's a thousand things he could do—instead, his nose scrunches up, and rather than rub his own fluttering eyes open, he holds up a hand to block out the stream of light poking through into his space. The other is laid aside as he props himself back onto an elbow.

His voice isn't anything but a slur. "What're you doing?"

"You were having a nightmare, so I woke you up."

Jason's exhaustion rings through the growl that slips. He doesn't need to look at you for long to tug you towards him and press his lips to yours. In a messy drawl, both of your jaws end with salvia glistening over the skin.

They crash insistently onto yours in heated breath.

Although you're definitely going to remember to clean out your mouth in the afterglow of tonight due to the morning breath.

"Don't remember asking for a wake-up call." His breathing stays the same as it has been: heavy while he's pulling you closer to rest his head over one of your shoulders. "But thanks, baby."

White strands of curls stick to his forehead and roll against you. Meanwhile, he's making use of the little space to trace the muscles of your back with the rough pads he has for palms.

He talks against your lips, refusing to pull back even while the edges of his tug at his own.

"You wanna use that mouth again and finish what you started, babe?"

#jason todd x gn reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd #dc comics #gn reader #mine #grabbing and strangling him like bart simps0n. but affectionately #somnophilia tw #somnophilia cw #somno tw #dubious consent #dubcon tw

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inkwolvesandcoffee · 3 days

Text

TF141 Meeting Soap’s Little Sister (a.k.a. You)

CoD ML

The task force didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. They already have to deal with Soap’s husky antics, which can already be too much to handle. Multiply that by two and no one, especially Simon, wants to deal with that.

But they certainly wouldn’t mind the company of the woman in the doorway.

Why on earth didn’t Soap warn them?

For John, it’s the sweater paws. For a second they make him selfishly want to dress you in one of his sweaters.

For Simon, it’s the way you shyly hide behind your brother, a habit you still have at your big age. Normally he loathes shows of fragility, but yours is endearing to him. For the first time in a very long while, it kindles something in him.

For Kyle, it’s your eyes. He simply can’t look away even though he’s aware it makes you uncomfortable.

“Lads, meet my sister, Y/N.” The adoration Soap has for you is plain to see in the gentle smile that plays out on his lips, proud to be your brother and amused you’ve barely changed from your younger days. Why else would you look at him, lowkey terrified of the strangers he’s brought into your home. “It’s awright, hen. They’re good men, even the big bawbag with the skull mask. Go oan an’ introduce yerself.”

Clutching your brother’s sleeve, relieved he’s home and glad for his protection, you introduce yourself. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

And in that moment, without so much as trying, you have your brother’s unit wrapped around your finger.

So much so that Simon removes his balaclava before he even crosses the threshold. Unbeknownst to you, it’s extremely rare to see the man without his mask and always leads to the unit members exchanging surprised glances.

“What’s this, LT?” your brother asks, badly faking disbelief.

“Proper etiquette. Plus, I can’t eat with the thing on.”

“Oh, so you do eat. I thought ghosts didn’t have ta.”

“Johnny…”

“Just messing with ye, Ghost.”

“Ghost?” you ask.

“It’s my callsign, miss. I- I mean, Y/N.” He keeps his distance, but tries to make himself as small as possible to seem less intimidating. “We ain’t on duty now, so’s just Simon.”

“I see.”

Throughout the night, your brother’s comrades try to win your favour. Kyle offers to help set the table, teaming up with John who beats him to it by lifting the stack of plates in your hands. “Can’t have the lady of the house do everything, can we?”

“But-“

“Please, Y/N, allow me.” His features soften, though there’s a strange glint in his eyes you can’t name. Nevertheless, it sharpens further into sterness as John turns around and starts speaking like you’d imagine he does out in the field. “Gaz, get over here. We have to help our hostess out.”

“You… you really don’t…”

“It’s the least we can do,” Kyle reassures you, shown up at your side at the first word of the captain. “We’ll try to do it neatly.”

“Oi, Gaz, stop being cheeky and get moving.”

“Yes, sir.” Kyle sighs. “He makes it sound like we’re on a battlefield. Fortunately, this is less severe, innit?”

“It might be if there aren’t glasses between now and ten seconds,” John mutters, circling around you two to put the last plates down and move on to cutlery.

“Ever the perfectionist. Where do you keep them?” Kyle asks.

You point at a cupboard. “Right there.”

“Okay. Y/N, we’ll do a proper job. Promise.” And with that, he’s off to help set the table.

While cooking, you observe Simon dawdling around the kitchen. Or, rather, as you discover when you lift your head to check what’s going on, he’s forced to thanks to Johnny.

“Och, just offer yer help. Ah dinnae ken, chop some veggies. Also, she’s into video games- Y/N!” Johnny slaps Simon on the shoulder, feigning ignorance. “Can this wee bawbag help ye with anything?”

“Stop calling me that,” Simon grumbles through gritted teeth.

“Do you cook?”

“He-“ Soap opens his mouth to answer for his friend yet finds himself cut short.

“Haud yer wheest, John. I was nae asking you, I was asking Simon.” Holding out your spatula as a threat to your brother, you turn to the gentle giant.

Simon looks at you through his lashes, but quickly averts his gaze when your eyes meet. “I dabble. Try to put proper grub on the table sometimes.”

“Help me do the same?”

“Uh… sure.”

“Lovely!”

“Have fun, LT.” Johnny offers you both a cheeky grin, then turns on his heel to return to the others.

And so Simon finds himself cooking alongside you. Truth be told, you partially did it to save him from his brothers in arms. Regardless of how well he knows them and the amount of time he’s spent with them, their extroverted personalities still wear him out. His silence is telling, different from the intimidating version he dropped the moment you opened the door. You’ve seen how his eyes glaze over, occupied with dreams you can only guess at. Occasionally he’ll nod and make a noise to make the others think he’s listening.

Nevertheless, it’s still surprising Simon tries to start a conversation.

A conversation that goes in all sorts of, mostly nerdy, directions. So soon you find yourself listening to elaborate explanations of the lore of various FromSoftware games, a topic Simon passionately enlightens you on.

He stops mid-sentence when you chuckle. “What?”

“You have a nice voice.”

“Oh… uh… thanks.”

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re some kind of miracle worker.” Gaz walks into the kitchen to grab another beer from the fridge. “How’d you get Ghost to talk?”

Simon glowers at his companion, but stands down when you gesture for him to remain calm. “Sometimes you simply need the right person, a genuine heart that listens. Now, boys, let’s eat.”

“Food?” Johnny calls from the couch.

“My days, what are ye? A husky?” you call, only partially truly annoyed.

Dinner is an amiable affair. The men (yes, even Soap) censor themselves, finding it inappropriate to start effin and blindin in your company. All the same, they include you in the conversation however possible and fall silent when they notice you want to chime in. Unbeknownst to you all, Johnny is especially vigilant none of the other men makes an advance towards you. Sure, you’re a grown woman. Nonetheless, to him, you’ll always be the wee bairn he held as a four-year-old boy, the barely grown girl who couldn’t stop crying when he was deployed for the first time.

You’re his little sister, the only girl he’d gift the moon if he could.

That being said, though, should you end up with any member of the unit, he dearly hopes it’s Simon. So it’s actually quite reassuring for him to see you two get along as well as you do.

“Two peas in a pod,” Soap mumbles, the words muffled by beer and the clinking of cutlery.

The lads gesture for you to remain seated while they clear the table and do the dishes.

“‘S alright, Y/N. Leave it to us,” John says when you try to get up from your chair.

“You really don’t-“

“No, no. Please.” The bear-like hand on your shoulder is gentle though strong, persuasive in its conviction for you to remain seated. “A small favour, really, to repay your kindness.”

The table cleared, John and Simon excuse themselves for a quick smoke. In the meanwhile, Johnny and Kyle wash the dishes.

For dessert, you sit the men down with coffee and tea to enjoy with a scone.

Kyle falls a little more for you when you show you’re full of contrasts. Shy on the surface yet so fierce when defying your brother. “I was doing fine, crocheting my time away without puppy antics.”

“I’m nae like a dog.” Your brother stops mid-bite to protest.

“Johnny, yer a bloody husky.”

“Well, at least I’m one that did nae get shot.”

“Oh, haud yer wheesht, like you ever will. Just enjoy yer scone and tea. Wait!” You hasten to the fridge to retrieve a jar of orange marmelade. “Here, have this.”

“Homemade?”

“‘Course. It’s not like I’ve forgotten how you dislike store bought.”

“Thanks, sis.”

“Thank you for coming back in one piece, bro.” You turn to the men, who all sit up, alert. “And thank you for bringing my brother home.”

John has to restrain himself and not give into the urge to plop you in his lap. To make sure he won’t, he tucks his hands between his legs when you brush past him to retake your seat across the table.

Simon is good at hiding his emotions, but definitely wouldn’t mind it if you leaned on him and talked some more about video gaming. He loves the way your whole expression brightens when you do and would like nothing better than for you to be his player number two.

Stories and small talk, with the occasional silence to appreciate being alive and well, fills the kitchen as the arms of the clock creep closer to midnight.

At some point you stifle a yawn. Unfortunately, not before your brother catches you doing so. Johnny looks at the clock then back at you. “Alright, lads, it’s been great. However, despite her stubborn arse refusing to admit it, Y/N’s getting tired. Now being the great big brother I am,” the harsh slap on the upper arm does little to make him pipe down, “I think it’s time I show all of you the door.”

John, Kyle, and Simon get up without so much as a word of protest. After all, it’s bad etiquette to wear your hostess out nor does it help your chances with her.

You expected only a handshake as a farewell. Nevertheless, it’s hard to refuse the open invitation for a hug John gives you. His embrace is warm and gentle, testing out the waters to see what you will and won’t allow. His chest rises and falls with a satisfied sigh when you let him rest his head on top of yours. To be honest, it’s nice and comforting, the way he rubs some heat into your arms. “Goodnight, love. Thank you for the splendid evening.”

Kyle’s hug is more casual, like you’re a dear friend he’ll see again in the short run.

“Can I get a hug from you too?” you ask the man standing by the door, who has his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. For a moment Simon seems about to step forward. Yet, for whatever reason, he remains where he stands.

“I don’t think-“

“Please?”

How can he say no now? His mind short-circuits when you wrap your arms around his waist. His hands hover in the air for a moment before he places them lightly on your shoulders. “Thanks for tonight, Y/N.”

“Had fun?”

“I did.”

“Glad to hear it. Also,” you lean back to look at him, “keep the mask off. You’re not a lieutenant here, not Ghost.”

An amused hum escapes Simon, though later in the car he’d have to keep denying Kyle’s allegations he saw him smile. “Copy.”

“Go oan, I won’t keep you any longer.”

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Simon.”

You watch the men clamber into John’s car. They’re all staying the night at his place before heading off home.

“You like him, don’t ye?”

“Who?”

“Ghost.”

“I don’t know him.” Johnny gives you a quizzical look. “Simon, though, perhaps. He’s a good man.”

“He is.”

The only man who has his blessing to court you.

Who he hopes will truly be family one day.

His future brother-in-law.

#CoD x Reader #Soap McTavish #John Price #Ghost x Reader #Simon Riley x Reader #John McTavish #John Soap McTavish #Kyle Gaz Garrick #Captain John Price #Simon Ghost Riley #CoD MW Ghost #Ghost CoD #CoD Ghost

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gatorbites-imagines · 3 days

Note

Hii! Hope you’re having a great day :D

I was thinking about Law with a tall male reader who looks very intimidating. everyone thinks that he is the top in the relationship but Law is the one who actually tops/? Like his s/o looks like a top but is actually a pillow princess. ;)

You can take this as a request or not if you want :3

Trafalgar D. Water Law x Tall male reader

Headcanons

Guten Abend everyone, still getting dragged over the studying coals, but fuck it we ball.

No outright smut in this one, mainly just focusing on their relationship since im exhausted, but I hope its still enjoyable.

In the One Piece universe, being tall can mean a lot of things. Being taller than Law just means you have to be somewhere over 6 ft 5, or taller, if that’s what you prefer. Being intimidating isn’t too hard either, especially if you are a fellow pirate.

Seeing you two together can be a little off-putting to the people around you, at least the ones that aren’t part of your crew, who know you two on a more personal level.

No one would dare to make assumptions in the beginning of a meeting, since Law already has quite the reputation, and either your scary aura or your own dangerous reputation makes people shut up. They might have ideas to themselves, but they wouldn’t verbalize it.

It probably comes up during an afterparty of some kind, after you guys have defeated the baddie of the week and you’re all kicking back. Since Law isn’t a big fan of drinking, you would end up being the one getting tipsy out of the two of you.

At some point during the night, Kidd or others who are more comfortable with you two, would start making jabs or ask questions, as one does when you get wasted. It becomes clear pretty damn quick though, that everyone thinks that Law is the one who bottoms.

Law isn’t the type to out your guy’s bedroom life, but I could still imagine him asking, in a bit of a tense tone, why they think that. That’s when you guys get the explanation from your allies and friends. But it all boils down to you being taller, bigger, scarier and with a stronger presence. So, it just made sense to them.

It gets a bit of a laugh from you, and you can tell from the tension in Laws jaw that it gets on his nerves, maybe even hurting his ego a little. But you also know your lover wouldn’t verbalize those thoughts, not wanting to admit something like an assumption of his bedroom role would hit him in any way.

When you guys get back to the polar tang, one would assume Law would drag you off to the bedroom to show you and him that your friends and allies’ assumptions were wrong. But Law is also a doctor, so he wouldn’t want to do such a thing when you’re drunk.

Instead, he gets some water in you, gets you something to eat, helps you get washed down if that’s what you need, and then the two of you conk out in bed, Law the big spoon even if you are taller. Hes like your tattooed backpack, if the height difference is big enough.

Law doesn’t end up making a move on you in the morning either if you suffer from hangovers, instead your lover would make sure you were alright, and get you something for the hangover if its bad enough. His ego may have been wounded a little, but he’s a respectful guy, especially to you as his lover.

That evening, or the day after though, you’re all his, not that you mind though. Seeing as all your crewmates are most likely still out partying or suffering from hangovers, you two have the polar tang all to yourself.

As you enjoy laying back and receiving pleasure without doing much in return, Law gets to do most of the work. He doesn’t need the same in return, as giving you pleasure is satisfying for him. Being in charge would feel quite nice for him, as it allows him to have an eye on the entire situation and what’s going on.

Law would definitely also use his devil fruit power when you guys are together, since it would make it easier for the both of you, and with his devil fruit he’s able to reach parts of you no one else can.

In the end, people you meet, and probably most of your friends and allies, think you are the top still, but Law wouldn’t mind too much after you show him that you don’t think lesser of him or let other people’s assumptions bother you or your relationship.

#male reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #one piece #trafalgar law imagine #trafalgar law headcanon #trafalgar law x male reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece imagine #one piece headcanon #one piece x male reader #one piece x reader #trafalgar d water law imagine #trafalgar d water law headcanon #trafalgar d water law x male reader #trafalgar d water law x reader

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avastrasposts · 2 days

Text

Big Sky Country - ch. 1

Cowboy!Frankie x OFC

Hi!

I'm really excited to post the first chapter of my new fic after posting a little snippet of it almost a month ago! In it we meet a cowboy version of Frankie as he returns to New York to patch things up with his "maybe girlfriend", but he also makes a connection with another woman, who makes this lost cowboy feel welcome in her Brooklyn bar.

No age gap, OFC story, angsty as fuck in parts, some smut, and I'm putting poor Frankie through hell again (I love him, I swear...)

And a big shout out and thank you to @i-own-loki who made the beautiful banner!

Warnings can be found here - contains spoilers but please read if you know certain themes may be upsetting for you. This fic is dark in parts and I don't want to upset anyone.

Series Master List

Main Master list

Prologue

The Greyhound bus rumbled away down the pin straight highway, heading west, towards the darkening mountain range. The sun slowly sank behind the highest peaks, soon their shadows would touch her feet. Looking back, east, towards a past she’d left on a whim, she sighed and let her eyes drift up to the indigo sky. Big sky country indeed.

So alien to her eyes, so open to someone used to living their life surrounded by tall buildings, busy people, small trees in small parks.

Here, the open prairie gave speed to the cold wind that hurtled down from the mountain range, whipping dirt from the road, tugging at her loose hair. She briefly closed her eyes against the particles of dust, inhaled deeply, tasting it on her tongue, dry grass in the air, a hint of snow from the mountains. No way back now, the bus too far away to stop. Only her duffel bag and a phone number, hoping he’d pick up and let her in.

He pressed his thumb to the button with her name, the taxi behind him rolling away down the crowded street. The buzz from the intercom added another layer of noise to the assault on his ears.

He dropped his hand.

Waited.

Glanced down the street, letting the tall steel and glass buildings pull his gaze upwards, to the thin sliver of dirty gray sky visible above them. With a sigh he dropped his eyes down, towards the end of the long street, where the buildings seemed to merge into one solid wall. He knew he was looking west, could feel it in his bones, in the way his feet wanted to start walking towards it. Towards the tall mountain range behind his home.

He pressed his thumb against the button with her name on it again, the buzzer grated his skin. He had a way back, nothing stopping him from hailing a cab, climbing back on the Greyhound and heading west again.

But she was here. If he wanted to make this work, he needed to be here.

Chapter One

A wall of warm air hit Frankie as he pulled open the door to the bar, chatter spilling out onto the street. His shoulders pulled up to his ears, the environment uncomfortable to him and he stopped just inside the door, scanning the room for something familiar apart from the smell of stale beer in the air. This bar was the first one he saw that looked like it would maybe serve someone like him, a Texas boy, fresh off the bus from Montana. He’s pretty sure he still has horse dung stuck to the bottom of his cowboy boots, his old army duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

The door behind him opened again, cold air hitting the nape of his neck under the ball cap.

“You growing roots, old man?”

The line is followed by a man snorting and a hand on Frankie’s arm, pushing him to the side. He would snap, bite back with a threatening remark, or at the very least fix the man with his most intimidating soldier scowl. But he just took two steps to the side, his shoulders creeping closer to his ears as he tugged at his cap, the movement unintentional, a nervous habit. He knew he was out of place here, a stranger.

The young man, a yellow backpack slung over his shoulder and long hair pulled into a bun, shoved his way past Frankie, catching the eye of the woman behind the bar.

“Hey, dickwad! Behave yourself or I’ll have you barred,” she barked, her eyebrows furrowed as she jabbed her finger at the man and he raised his hands in a weak gesture of apology as he sauntered towards the bar.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he snarked, heading towards a loud crowd further in, walking away and ignoring the frown from the woman. She turned her attention to Frankie instead and looked him up and down, an appraising look, before meeting his eyes.

“You coming or going, cowboy?”

“Uuh..coming,” he managed to press out, picking up his feet and walking to the bar. He felt heat creep up his neck at being so easily pegged as a cowboy, an out of towner, swallowing down the urge to turn on his heel and bolt out the door. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and the woman behind it gave him a smile, setting down a coaster with a flick of her wrist.

“What can I get you? You look like you’ve traveled far.”

“Just a beer, thanks,” he said and she gave him a softer smile, pity flashing across her face.

“This is Brooklyn, cowboy, I’ve got twenty beers on tap and forty in bottles,” she said and he felt fatigue set in, can’t even order a normal fucking beer in this city. He sighed deeply, dropping his head between his shoulders. But the woman just chuckled in a low voice, tapping her hand on the bar just in front of him.

“Don’t despair, I’m a good bartender, I know what you’ll like.”

He picked up his head as she stepped away, grabbed a glass, and moved to a tap further down the bar. Shooting him a quick grin, she began to pull the pint, amber liquid filling the glass, topping off with a creamy white head. He watched her from under the bill of his cap, shouldn’t really appraise her, but he couldn't help it. The fitted jeans on her curves, and the faded bar uniform shirt tied at the waist instead of tucking it in, made his eyes drop down over her ass in a way a man trying to save his relationship with another woman should avoid. And she clocked him, checking her out when she turned towards him again, making him snap his eyes to his hands on the bar. Heat crept up his neck as he rubbed the small bullseye tattoo next to his thumb.

“Amber ale from a local brewery three blocks from here,” she said and placed the pint on the mat in front of him.

“Thanks,” he replied, watching the bubbles rise to the bottom of the head, “looks good.”

“One of my favorites, I’ve always had a soft spot for amber ale,” she nodded, picking up a cloth and returning to the never ending duty of cleaning glasses.

Frankie picked up the glass and took a long sip, humming as the ale slipped down his throat.

“Damn,” he said, “that’s good, that’s really good.”

“Told you,” the woman smiled at him and he gave her a quick smile in return before he took another sip.

She watched him from the corner of her eye as she moved around the bar, clean glasses getting wiped and stacked. Clearly a newcomer to the city, she’d called him ‘cowboy’ and he hadn’t protested, the boots and the duffel bag giving him away, even before she saw his uneasy eyes roam around the bar and his nervous shuffle. She’s used to assessing anyone who stepped in through the door, the loud ones, the quiet ones, the ones who are only coming to make trouble.

This man was one of the quiet ones, she doesn’t think he’s loud even when he’s in his own element, surrounded by friends.

As he took another long drink from his pint, she turned and picked up glass, catching his eyes on her. She smiled warmly at him, wanting to make him feel welcome, at least in this bar. The city outside is usually brutal to newcomers, and this one seemed to carry more of a burden than most.

“So you’re new to the city?” she asked him, moving back to his side of the bar, pushing long strands of ginger red hair back behind her ears before wiping another glass.

“Yeah, came in on the bus a few hours ago,” he replied and she nodded. He doesn’t look like he flew into the city, he’s got the tired face of someone who's spent too many hours leaning against a window, watching the Midwest slip past. But underneath the tired eyes there’s a warmth, a softness in the way he gives her a small crooked smile that makes a dimple appear on his right cheek.

“Spent two fucking days on it,” he sighed, rubbing a large hand over his face before he lifted his cap and swept his thick curls back. She was temporarily mesmerized by how they bounced back around his ears as he squashed the cap back down.

“Two days? Where did you come from, Texas?” she asked, her eyes widening at the thought of spending two whole days on a bus, but he shook his head.

“No, I think Texas is like three days, I came from Montana,” he took another long drag of his beer.

“I’m guessing this isn’t a weekend trip then”, she quipped, putting down the cloth, all the glasses done, and leaned back on the counter behind her. There’s more work to be done but the stranger chuckled softly at her joke and it pulled her in, making her smile in return.

“No, I’m here to stay with someone, my..ah-a friend, of sorts,” he said, “Gonna see if I can find some work around here, try a different type of life.”

“What do you do?” she asked, “Maybe I know someone who knows someone, that’s usually how it works here.”

“Back in Montana I work with horses, on a ranch,” he replied, rubbing his thumb over the condensation on the beer glass, “Before that, I was a mechanic, cars, helicopters, anything really, I can usually fix it.”

“That’s a pretty handy skill,” she replied, sounding impressed and he gave a little shrug, as if the ability to fix helicopters was something inconsequential, “I’m sure you’ll find work, especially if you can fix old cars, lots of those around here.”

She turned and grabbed a notepad from next to the till, “What’s your name and number? I’ll keep it on hand and ask around for you.”

“Really?” He sounded surprised as he sat up a bit straighter, “Uh yeah, I’m Frankie, Frankie Morales.”

“Nice to meet you, Frankie,” she smiled back at him and slid the notepad across the bar, “Write it down, and your number. I can’t promise anything, and I’m not recommending you to anyone, I’ll just let them know you’re looking for work.”

“Yeah, sure, of course, but anything helps,” he replied, grabbing the pen and jotting down his information.

“What’s your name?” he asked, as he passed the notepad back to her.

“Aisling,” she replied, slipping it in next to the till again.

“Do you own this place,” he asked, looking around the bar. When he looked back at her she was shaking her head.

“No, not at all, I’m just the bartender,” she said, “Give me a minute, I’m just gonna serve these guys.” She gave him a quick smile and headed down the bar to two men who had just sat down.

Frankie watched her as she took their orders, smiling and laughing easily as she pulled a beer for one of them. The men, her age, are both hanging on to her every word as she makes a joke, the blonde one clapping the other one on the shoulder with a loud howl. She winked at him and turned, reaching for a bottle on the top shelf to serve the other man. As she stood on her tiptoes, stretching to reach, her shirt rose up, a soft sliver of creamy skin exposed in the dim light of the bar. Frankie couldn’t help but stare at the glimpse black underwear peeking out above the edge of her jeans, a flash of lace, his mouth suddenly dry as his cock reacted. He dipped his head, but couldn't keep his eyes away, she swayed on her tiptoes, refusing to get the stepladder and her breasts pressed against the shirt as it rode up higher. Frankie had an image of her underneath him, all that soft flesh, warm and smooth under his rough palms, sweet smelling and whimpering.

She managed to slide the bottle off the shelf and grab a glass. Frankie peeled his eyes away, looking down at the now empty pint in his hands, pressed his thumb into the tattoo, forcing his thoughts in another direction. At the end of the bar, Aisling rang up the customers’ order and wiped down the bar before coming back towards him.

“Do you want another?” she asked, nodding towards the empty glass. Frankie considered it for a beat and then shook his head. He wanted a clear head when he went back to the apartment, he needed to say the right things to save the relationship with the woman who lived there. He already knew that not even in his head could he bring himself to call her ‘girlfriend’, he’s far from sure that’s what she is anymore, not with the way they left it.

“No, I can’t,” he said, “It was good though, what do I owe you?”

“Fourteen fifty,” Aisling replied and he tried not to cough at the price as he pulled his wallet from the back of his jeans.

She took his bills and he left her a tip on the bar that she deposited in the tip jar with a smile.

“Uhm…tell me,” Frankie said, absentmindedly tugging at his cap, “Do I really look that much like a cowboy?”

Aisling’s smile softened as she heard his nervous question, “Well…yeah, the cowboy boots are kinda a give away,” she replied, “It doesn’t exactly look like it’s a fashion choice, and the whole jeans, suede jacket, belt buckle look…” She motioned over his body as Frankie’s eyes dropped down to his jeans and belt, hidden from view by the counter.

“You’re good,” he said, a small chuckle escaping him, “You got all that just from when I came in?”

“Tricks of the trade,” she replied, “I need to know who steps into the bar and read them quickly.”

“So you assessed me as soon as I walked in? What else did you pick up on?” He was curious now and leaned forward on the counter as she laughed.

“Well, I’m cheating because we’ve been talking for a bit now. But you do look ‘new in town’ and I’d say ex-army maybe?”

“I guess the duffel bag gave it away?” Frankie smiled, glancing down at the old bag at his feet.

“No, they’re ten dollars at the army surplus stores,” Aisling replied, shaking her head, “But you sat down with your back against a corner, and I bet you can tell me exactly where the exits are and how many people are in here and which ones could give you trouble.”

Frankie raised his eyebrows in surprise at her and she shrugged.

“You’ve been scanning the room since you walked in.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong,” he replied, letting his eyes roam across the room again, it’s instinct at this point, inherited from years in the army, “I quit the army years ago but it’s a habit I can’t seem to drop.”

“What did you do? Mechanic?” Aisling asked and Frankie shook his head.

“Helicopter pilot, which means I had to be able to fix anything, but mainly I flew things, anything really.”

Aisling gave him a closer second look and the pieces fell into place, his quiet demeanor, the way he held himself, not exactly folded in on himself, but as if he was trying to stay unseen and not be noticed unless he wanted to be. A strong, solid body gone slightly soft with age, betrayed by the gray in his beard and hair, small white scars across his knuckles, evidence of old injuries.

“What?” he asked as he noticed her eyes scanning him.

“Just building the picture,” she said, a small crooked smile, “You know us bartenders, always trying to figure out the story of our patrons.”

“Not much of a story,” he said, tugging at his cap and hiding his eyes, “just new in town, looking for work.”

“Everyone has a story, Frankie Morales.”

He shrugged at that and fumbled for his phone as it began to ring. Aisling gave him a quick smile and stepped away to let him answer in private.

Frankie’s jaw ticked as he saw the name on the screen, Eva. He’s been expecting her to call since he left her front door. Their front door, maybe. The truth is, he doesn’t know where they stand anymore. They’d met in Florida, after a doomed mission to South America that left so much pain inside him, and a rift between old friends. She’d been a calming presence, someone who seemed to have his back when his mind spiraled out of control. But she hadn’t been enough, being in Florida became oppressive, and it wasn’t just the humid heat. The old haunts from the days he’d spent trying to numb his brain with white powder, bars and venues filled with memories of the friends he’d lost, both those who’d died and those who still lived, it all became claustrophobic.

When Herb, his sponsor at the NA, first invited him to the ranch in Montana he’d scoffed at the idea. He was a pilot, not a ranch hand. But after a close call, nearly falling back into the habit, he’d taken him up on the offer and gone out there for two weeks. Herb had convinced him by talking about the clear, cool air making it easy to breathe, the open sky making the mind feel less claustrophobic. And he’d been right. The first evening they’d sat on the porch, the mountains at their back, the open prairie in front, and Frankie had looked up at the endless sky and it was almost as if he was back in a cockpit, flying close to the stars. Nothing encroached on his mind, no buzz in his ears, nothing tugged at his memories, just the open sky and an endless horizon.

The two weeks of hard ranch work, aching muscles, blistered hands, sealed the deal. If he wanted to truly start over, he needed to leave Florida and come here.

Eva had been enthusiastic at first, pulled in by Frankie’s talk of the horses, a new foal that had just been born, the small cabin they’d live in. He’d shared the pictures he’d taken, all rustic beams, sturdy wood furniture and a hammock on the porch. It looked like a romantic western dream and that’s what they both really thought it would be. And for the first few months they were happy.

But when Frankie found peace and calm in the solitude of the isolated ranch, felt free and unrestricted, she began to feel claustrophobic and suffocated. The nearest town, a forty-five minute drive away, didn’t offer much of anything. She found work online and began to resent the life he’d trapped her in. That was the word she’d used, trapped. When the fights became a daily occurrence, Frankie felt the familiar itch of wanting to escape come back. Starting, as always, in his feet and crawling up his body until he spent more time out on the ranch than in the cabin. And for every hour he stayed away, Eva resented their life more, resented him more.

Until eventually, one late evening when he came back after five days on the trails with a group of guests from a neighboring ranch, she’d left. Only a note saying she’d accepted a position in New York with the company she worked for. A line about needing a different type of life, no invitation to come with her, to follow her, just signed /E and that was it.

He’d called her, spent hours on the phone when she eventually picked up, begged her to come back. Offered to move to a ranch closer to a bigger town, find a compromise where he could still have the peace of the ranch life, but let her live her life too. But she loved New York, after the silent cabin, she craved the noise and the tempo of the city.

Eventually he agreed to come to New York, to see her new life and maybe find a place in it. But the city was an assault on his senses after so long on the ranch. The peace that his spiraling mind had finally found evaporated as he navigated the city, the metro, her friends, the bars. His feet itched, the skin around his nails was picked raw and he felt on edge, even in the apartment, his mind never getting a chance to be quiet.

Eva called it his need for control, to always have a plan of escape, a way out. He knew it was the years in the army that had shredded his sense of safety, left his nerves ragged and too exposed to the mundane background noise of a city. Maybe he’d be able to deal with it some day, but now, he needed the silence.

After two months in Brooklyn, he left. A loose promise from both of them to maybe try to patch things up, to try the long distance thing. But when he sent a text, saying he’d returned safely to the ranch, and she didn’t reply for two days, he knew it was over. And he didn’t miss her. He had loved her at some point, he thinks. But their lives didn’t match, their needs too different. And he saw that he should maybe not be with anyone while he laid down the foundations of a new life in a new place. He needed to find a way to live with himself, in silence, before he considered sharing his darkest sides with someone else.

And then Eva called. Six weeks after he’d left Brooklyn. He could hear the heavy traffic behind her as she walked down a street somewhere, leaving a clinic that had confirmed what she’d suspected.

“I’m pregnant, Frankie, and it’s yours.”

The words floored him, sent a sharp jolt of dread through his system, his feet tingling, then his scalp. A baby. In New York. But his baby, their child. And the dread was replaced by nerves, how would they do this? Would she want to raise the baby in New York or come back to Montana? He had space for a child here, a guest bedroom with a view of the mountains. It would be a perfect nursery, he could paint it, build a crib with Herb’s help, the nearby town was a good place to raise a family when the child was old enough to begin school. Without even stopping to think, he built a new life around the unborn child.

Or hell, even New York, he’d make himself put up with New York if that was what she wanted. The apartment only had one bedroom but maybe they could move further out, get a bigger place. He could renovate pretty much anything, he was sure of it. Maybe they could find a quiet neighborhood with trees, where his mind could find peace even in the city. Without even stopping, he built another new life around his, their, unborn child.

“I don’t know if I’m keeping it, but I wanted to tell you.”

Eva’s voice had been hard, letting him know that she was doing him a favor by telling him, letting him be part of it.

“I’ll come to New York, I’ll get a bus today,” Frankie pleaded, “Let’s talk this through, a few more days won’t make a difference.”

She’d conceded, and he’d thrown stuff into the old duffel bag, left a message with Herb, and driven to the crossroads where the Greyhound stopped.

Now he was here, in a Brooklyn bar, looking down at her name on his phone as he pressed the green button to answer.

Chapter 2

A/N: And we're off! I'm so nervous, I really hope you all will love this and follow along as I explore this new version of Frankie! I hope to post a new chapter every Sunday so fingers crossed life doesn't get in the way too much!

❤

Tagging the ususal suspects: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3 @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain @casa-boiardi

#frankie morales #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfic #triple frontier

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teshamerkel · 2 days

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Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 56]

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Nia and Tobias fly across the Obsidian Sea, and reunite with a couple of familiar faces!

The next day dawns cold and clear. As Nia and Tobias make the walk to the flying outpost, Nia is quickly woken up by the delicate frost coating the leaf-littered forest floor and the foliage they have to pass through. Her fur feels soaked through within minutes and her paws are chilled, but the brisk pace of the walk helps to warm her up. Well, that and walking a bit closer to Tobias. The charmander seems equally disgruntled about the approaching winter, but he doesn’t snap at Nia for bumping into him once or twice as she leeches off his bubble of warmth.

The sun is just starting to cut through the trees in rays of orange light, melting the frost, when Nia spots the tall structure of the flying outpost ahead of them. She picks up the pace, trotting ahead until it’s fully in sight in the middle of a small clearing. Something like canvas has been tied down to block the open gaps of the structure, acting as makeshift walls to cut off powerful gusts of wind. They billow and blow in the breeze like sails, flapping loudly.

There are only a few Pokemon waiting near the bottom of the structure, but Nia’s eyes lock onto one in particular, large and maroon with a fluffy mane of white.

“Fliss!”

The braviary’s head lifts from where she’d been talking to a smaller, bright orange Pokemon. Even with the intimidating scar where her right eye should be, the way Fliss’ face lights up is nothing short of adorable. “Nia! Well, I’ll be! You looking for a ride?”

“Yes!” Nia slows to a stop in front of the braviary, bouncing on her toes. Both because she’s excited to see the large flying type again and to stay warm. “Are you flying today?”

“Sure am! A little frost ain’t gonna stop me. Where’s that partner of yours? You two still a team?”

Nia turns, just in time for Tobias to emerge from the brush with a sour look. He takes a moment to shake melted frost from his foot. “Here. Just hating winter.”

Fliss laughs and jerks her chin up at the pieces of canvas. “You ain’t the only one. Half our crew’s hiding away until the sun comes out to warm everything up.”

“They’ll have to face the winter eventually,” a new voice says, crisp and even. The bird Fliss had been speaking with before steps closer, and Nia can’t help staring at his feathers a bit longer than is probably polite. He’s a bright orange, the color ending in flame-like tapers and fading into a light gray underbelly. His wings and tail are a striking black at their tips, and streaks of bright yellow band his tail feathers and ring his eyes and beak. He looks like the embodiment of fire, just a head or so taller than Nia and Tobias.

“This ball of sunshine is Comet,” Fliss says, amused. “If you’re lookin’ for a long flight, then he’ll be joining us for the trip.”

Tobias frowns, looking between Fliss and the new Pokemon. “Why?”

Fliss and Comet exchange a loaded look. Then, Fliss sighs. “Was hoping you wouldn’t ask, little flame. We’ve just been flyin’ in pairs lately. Extra safety and all that.”

Nia blinks. “Safety?”

“The winds are more volatile than they used to be,” Comet says. “I promise you we can handle it. It’s just a precaution.”

Nia can’t help wondering what had to happen for such a precaution to be put into place. She shuffles worriedly on her feet, glancing at Tobias. He doesn’t look any more soothed than she feels. No wonder, considering they’ll have to fly over the Obsidian Sea again. An accident over the open ocean is basically a death sentence for a charmander.

“We need to head back to Ghatha,” Nia says, locking eyes with Fliss. “So we would need to go over the ocean. Are you sure it’s safe?”

Nia knows this is technically Fliss’ livelihood, but she trusts the flying type not to lie to her just to make some extra money. Not about this.

The braviary ducks her head in a bow. “I’m as confident as a victini in my flight. But if ya aren’t comfortable, you could always find some water transport.”

“Though the ocean is becoming just as unstable,” Comet mutters.

Tobias shakes his head. “No. No, we’re on a tight schedule. I’ll be fine.”

Nia wonders if he’s reassuring her or himself.

“Neither Felicity or I have had any incidents,” Comet says. “Going together is just extra assurance. New protocol.”

Nia exchanges an uncertain look with Tobias. Normally she wouldn’t want to risk it, but they don’t really have any other option. They need to talk to Will as soon as possible, and using water transport would take far too long.

“We’ll fly,” Tobias says, deciding for the both of them. “If you’ll take us.”

“Gladly!”

The cost for travel is a bit higher than it was before—to compensate two ‘mons’ time rather than just one, Fliss explains—but luckily August gave them more funds than he’d thought they’d need. Tobias splits the payment between the two flying types, dropping the coins into the little pouch tied around Fliss’ leg and the small bag tied to Comet’s back.

Finally, it’s time to fly.

“Welcome aboard!”

Fliss crouches low, belly brushing the grass, to let them crawl on. Tobias doesn’t hesitate before taking a firm grip of the bird’s feathers and pulling himself up onto her back. He offers a hand, and Nia gives him a smile of thanks before letting him help her up. She sits behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle and grateful for his sturdy warmth.

“Smoother start than last time,” Fliss teases. “Ready to fly?”

Tobias nods. “Ready.”

Nia takes a deep breath. “As ready as I can be.”

Fliss laughs. “That’s what I like to hear! Just hold on tight now. Promise we’ll get ya to Ghatha safely.”

With that, Fliss pushes off the ground with powerful legs, giant wings beating hard to get into the air. She bobs once, then slowly lifts up and up and up. They rise past the outpost and the trunks of the trees, until they’re surging past leaves and into a sky that’s a robin’s egg blue.

Immediately, the wind buffets them, cold and biting.

Nia feels her stomach drop. She ducks her head into the warmth of Tobias’ shoulder, clinging tightly to him. She feels more than hears him sigh, but he doesn’t argue, just patting her arm twice once before holding once more to Fliss’ feathers.

Fliss rises higher and higher until she catches the air current she wants, then levels out to ride the wind. While the bone-deep fear clutching at Nia’s gut doesn’t disappear entirely, it does ease a bit once their jerky flight smooths out.

Nia almost wants to peek out at the world, recalling the brief glimpses of gorgeous, breathtaking views from last time. Plus, Tobias clearly loves this whole experience. It’d be fun to share it with him.

But as soon as she squints open an eye and catches sight of the sprawling forest below, looking as small as a carpet of moss, and the sheer openness of the sky around them, terror grabs her again.

She buries her head back into Tobias’ shoulder, taking deep breaths of his soothing scent to calm herself.

Nia still can’t remember if she’d flown before as a human. She knows planes are a thing, but her memory has only returned in bits and pieces. Much of her history is still blank, like a tapestry that’s more moth-eaten holes than actual thread. Was she afraid of heights in the human world too? Or is her body’s fighting type nature really enough to put such fear into her?

It’s hard to describe the feeling, especially as it engulfs her and makes her feel lightheaded. It’s like as much as she knows they’re (probably) safe with Fliss and Comet taking care of them, her body trembles with the knowledge that if she fell from here, she’d likely die. Her chest feels tight, her heart pounding hard against Tobias’ spine, and panic simmers quietly in the back of her mind.

“You breathing back there?” Tobias asks, head turning enough for Nia to catch the words.

Nia takes a gulp of air. Then another, slower, to try and follow his unspoken suggestion. Deep breaths. Just don’t think about it. You’re fine. Tobias is here, and Fliss is here, and if something goes wrong then Comet is here too.

“C-Can you talk?” Nia asks.

“Uh. I guess? About what?”

“Anything. I-I just need a distraction. Um. What kind of Pokemon is Comet?”

“Oh. He’s a talonflame. Fire and flying type, like a charizard. I don’t know too much about them, but he’s the final evolution in a three-stage form, and I can tell he’s fast. He keeps having to pull himself back so he doesn’t leave Fliss behind.”

Nia can’t bring herself to answer, breath stolen from her chest, so she nods.

Tobias keeps talking. “Uh. I think the first form is called a fletchling? They’re little things, about Junie’s size. Don’t remember the middle form’s name, though. Um…they’re probably pretty warm, if they’re anything like other fire types. That’s likely why he’s comfortable flying so early in the day, when it’s still cold.”

Comet must catch onto what Tobias is doing and what they’re discussing, because when Tobias starts running out of tidbits to share, Nia hears the talonflame’s voice shout to them over the wind.

“Talonflame are certainly a warmer species. We even create fire with our feathers, rather than a flame sac like most fire types. We produce an oil that’s flammable, and generate heat and friction through flapping our wings to ignite.”

“Watch,” Tobias says, tapping Nia’s arm.

Nia whines, but peeks open an eye in the direction of Comet’s voice.

Comet is sailing easily along on an air current, framed by blue sky. Upon seeing that he has her attention, he flaps his wings—once, twice, three times—and small embers spark to life from his feathers, leaping behind him to be carried away by the wind.

Nia’s curiosity just barely wins out over her fear. She lifts her head to watch more clearly as Comet does it again. He flaps once, hard, and flames burst to life around his wings, hot enough that Nia feels a brief wave of warmth. Then he shoots forward, zipping past Fliss.

“Show-off!” Fliss shouts, laughter in her voice.

“She was curious,” Comet counters, voice now on their other side.

Nia turns to look at him, mouth open to ask questions about how they can choose when to ignite, and if fletchlings can do that too, and a hundred other things—

But she catches sight of the Silenfroar Mountains behind the talonflame, remembers where she is, and icy fear grips her again. She buries her face with a whimper, feeling pathetic.

Tobias sighs.

“Want me to take a turn on distraction duty?” Fliss calls.

Someone must give her the affirmative, because she starts talking. “Did ya know that there’s another variant of braviary out there? Psychic and flying type! I met one once, and he could blast enough psychic energy to knock out a wailord. I can pack a punch myself, so I was mostly just jealous that he could use his powers to write! This old gal is forever cursed with illiteracy.”

“You can read,” Comet says, dry.

“Half-illiteracy, then!”

“That’s not how it works.”

Nia giggles despite herself, grateful for her travel companions as they fall into more animated conversation. Like this, if Nia keeps her eyes closed and takes deep breaths, if she lets the breeze soothe her and imagines she’s just on a windy hillside rather than hundreds of feet in the air, it’s not too terrible. Although Nia wishes she could whip out her blanket without risk of it blowing away. It’s much colder than the last time they flew.

The three Pokemon keep the conversation flowing, shifting from one topic to another, until Fliss finally asks why they’re returning to Ghatha so soon.

“We’re actually going to Stonebrook, a bit south of Ghatha,” Tobias says. “We’re meeting someone there.”

“Oh, Stonebrook!” Fliss crows. “Nice little place. Quaint. We could drop ya off there if you’d prefer, for a bit of extra poke to compensate our time.”

Tobias makes a thoughtful sound that rumbles in his chest. “How much extra?”

“Let’s say 150.”

Tobias mulls it over, and Nia can feel him turn his head as if to get her input.

“Whatever you think is best,” Nia says into his shoulder.

Tobias hesitates for a moment longer before turning forward again. “100 poke and you’ve got a deal.”

Fliss laughs, loud and booming even as the wind snatches the sound away. “Haggler, eh? You know what? Sure. I like you two, so 100 poke it is. Comet, you can have the larger share since I took the lower deal.”

Comet doesn’t answer, so Nia assumes he agrees with those conditions.

Time passes in a blur after that. Nia knows that they have at least a few hours until they reach the land across the sea, but she tries to distract herself by listening to the snippets of conversation around her and thinking about what they have waiting ahead of them. They’re going to find Junie! And see Will again, as well as his human settlement. Excitement mixes in with the nerves in her stomach.

However, it's hard not to let her mind drift to more panic-inducing thoughts too, like their current situation in the air, or their mission from Giratina, or even how much she misses her family in the human world when she has the time to think about them.

Nia wants them here. She wants her mom to stroke her hair and soothe her fear. She wants Clay to make stupid jokes to distract her. She wants Toni to stick her obnoxiously large headphones over Nia’s ears to drown out the quiet roar of the wind.

She misses them so much. Longing aches like a bruise inside her chest.

Nia sniffs and hopes that Tobias doesn’t notice her shaky breaths. Tears prick at her eyes, hot and insistent.

Nia misses them, and she doesn’t even have the full story. She’d hoped that after getting sick and remembering some of her life as a human, the rest of her memories would follow. But after the initial deluge, they’d slowed to a stop. She knows she’s still missing a lot, still has giant gaps in her memory that feel impossible to focus on for too long. What was the last thing she even did with her family before showing up here?

Nia is pulled out of her thoughts when Tobias speaks up, tapping her arm. “We’re at the ocean.”

Nia doesn’t think he means for her to look up, just to update her, so she nods her thanks into his shoulder.

After that, Nia tries to let the loud howl of the wind and the roar of the waves drown out her thoughts and anxieties. Tries to let the sensations surround her in a fuzzy haze.

She’s snapped back to reality by the sudden tilt of the world.

Nia squeaks, clinging to Tobias as Fliss’ considerable mass is knocked sideways by a sudden gust of wind. The braviary flaps wildly to correct herself, and Nia’s stomach flips. Oh, they’re gonna die they’re gonna die they’re gonna die—

Fliss finally manages to catch a gentler air current, leveling out her erratic flight. Nia keeps her face hidden away, focusing on her death grip around Tobias’ ribs and the way he’s clutching at her arm in return.

“Are you two all right?” Comet yells, sounding more tense than Nia would like. His voice is closer too, as if hovering near enough to catch them if they fall.

Tobias squeezes Nia’s wrist, whether to reassure her or himself that she’s still hanging on. “I don’t know if I’d say all right, exactly, but we’re still here. What was that?”

“Rogue wind,” Fliss calls back. “I’ve sailed these currents for more than twenty years, and I’ve never seen anything like ‘em. They like to pop up out of nowhere and throw us off course.”

“A symptom of the increasing natural disasters, as far as we can tell,” Comet adds. “It certainly makes travel more difficult. Dangerous, particularly for the smaller flyers.”

Nia’s heart sinks. This is just one more reminder of what they’re trying to stop. Of what will come to pass if they don’t fix the world. Nia can imagine the winds growing untamed enough eventually to ground flyers completely, whipping up storms and typhoons to wreak havoc alongside earthquakes and droughts.

Nia takes another deep breath to ward off fresh panic. This is why they’re going to see Will. They’re going to fix this. All of it.

“Don’t you worry—I’m much tougher than any rowdy wind!” Fliss calls, trying to sound upbeat. “You two just hold on tight and we’ll be sure to get you to Stonebrook safely.”

Tobias nods, but doesn’t respond. Nia, still trying to calm her racing heart, simply holds onto him tighter. She already didn’t like flying, but the thought that the world could suddenly flip and toss them into the ocean at any time is ten times worse. Not that she doesn’t trust Fliss, but she distrusts the current state of nature even more.

“I’ll scout ahead to make sure that doesn’t happen again,” Comet calls, just loud enough to hear, before Nia feels another burst of warmth from his flames. He must’ve jetted forward to fly just ahead of Fliss.

Unfortunately, conversation stops after that as Fliss and Comet focus on navigating the rough air currents. Time passes in tense quiet, aside from the rush of the wind and the roar of the waves. Every time a gust of wind shakes up their flight even the slightest bit, Nia’s heart jumps into her throat.

When Tobias finally speaks again, it’s quiet and almost to himself. “Huh.”

Nia tightens her grip on her partner. “W-What? Is something wrong?”

“No. I don’t think so, at least.” Tobias leans slightly, as if peering over Fliss’ side. “Giratina’s following us.”

That’s interesting enough to make Nia look up. She debates with herself for just a moment before steeling her courage, tightening her grip, and following Tobias’ gaze down, to the choppy ocean below.

Sure enough, Nia spots Giratina’s giant, serpentine shape in the broken reflections on the ocean’s surface. He’s following alongside Fliss’ quick pace, winding like a snake through black water.

Fliss notices the legendary’s presence, but she must think it’s another Pokemon because she just gripes about nosy water types before flapping higher to catch a different current. Nia stiffens at the reminder of how high up they are and burrows back into her safe space.

“Surely he has better things to do than follow us around,” Tobias says.

“Maybe we should give him an update?” Nia suggests. “To be fair, he doesn’t know what we’re doing. We could try talking to him through a reflection later?”

“Maybe.”

And with that, they fall silent again.

____________________________________________________________

It’s late morning when they finally make it back to land, and almost noon by time Fliss calls out that they’ll be landing in Stonebrook in a few minutes.

The rest of their flight had been uneventful after that first incident. Comet had successfully steered them around any other severe turbulence, and the cold weather had warmed with the sun beating down on their backs. Still, Nia is beyond relieved to have the end of their flight so near, and she manages to lift her head and take a peek at where they’re going.

The forest below looks different from the one in Bethoc’s Haven. The trees back home are a range of species, mostly deciduous, with spreading boughs and wide leaves that change colors and wither away with the seasons. These trees, even from a distance, stand tall and pointed, a rich palette of greens despite the approaching winter. Evergreens?

Fliss and Comet aim for a notable gap in the trees. As they start to descend, Nia realizes they aren’t just settling in a small grove or clearing, but instead at the edge of a tiny village nestled amongst the trees. There are small buildings scattered throughout the space, built from boulders and slabs of stone propped against one another. Other than a few purposeful openings that are clearly windows, any gaps are filled in with smaller, carefully stacked stones. A stream winds through the town, stepping stones bridging its two halves, and even this late in autumn the whole place feels green and lush, each building topped by a grassy roof. They must be farther south than Nia had realized.

Pokemon are scattered around the village, going about their day. Children are chasing each other down dirt paths, shrieking with laughter, while a couple of adults talk and watch the kids from outside stone homes. Others appear to be doing chores or running errands. One building is seemingly the home of a merchant, and a few Pokemon are crowded around the little window where he’s exchanging goods. Smoke rises from another building, and Nia catches the savory scent of something cooking. Some Pokemon are even riding a cart out of town on the main path, heading who knows where.

Fliss finally touches down, and Nia wastes no time in sliding off her back. The cool, pine needle-strewn dirt below her feet is blessedly solid.

“Oh, thank God,” Nia breathes, sinking to the ground. Her legs are somehow both stiff and flimsy as jelly.

Fliss laughs, lowering herself so Tobias can slide down much more gracefully.

“You good?” He asks.

Nia groans, leaning forward to press her forehead against the dirt. Tobias gives her a patronizing pat on the back.

“Apologies again for the rough flight over,” Comet says, stepping closer.

“But we did get you here in one piece!” Fliss says, giving an exaggerated wink with her one good eye.

Tobias helps Nia to her feet. “That you did. Thanks.”

“We’re planning to head to Ghatha right away for our next job, so you may need to make the journey north on foot if you need a return flight,” Comet says.

“That’s fine!” Nia says, giving Comet a weak smile as she starts stretching out her stiff legs. “We probably won’t need a flight ‘mon for a while, anyways. We need to find someone here in town, and then we’re heading south.”

“Fair enough,” Fliss says. “Well, it was good seeing you two again, despite the rocky weather. Be careful on your travels and be sure to find us again if you need a flight! It’s always a pleasure having you as riders.”

“Thanks, Fliss,” Nia says, smiling warmly at the braviary. “I can’t say it’s been, um…fun, exactly, but I appreciate you doing your best to make it easier for me. Both of you.”

Comet dips his head. “Of course. It was nice meeting you both.”

With that, Fliss and Comet step back and take flight again, flapping up and into the sky. Nia waves them off until they’re out of sight.

Then it’s just Nia and Tobias standing at the edge of the village. Stonebrook is absolutely tiny, maybe ten or twelve small buildings in all, and Nia can see clear to the other side of town from where they’re standing. While the inhabitants of the village aren’t approaching them, there are one or two Pokemon watching them curiously, clearly wondering who they are and why they flew to Stonebrook of all places.

“Well, we’re here. Now what?” Tobias asks.

“Well…” Nia trails off, looking around. “I guess we just ask around until someone can point out where Junie lives? It can’t be too hard to find her in a town this small.”

Tobias shrugs, clearly not thrilled about socializing with a bunch of strangers, but follows as Nia wanders into the village proper, towards the merchant shop she’d spotted earlier.

“This place is nice,” Nia says, smiling as one of the children she’d seen before runs past her. The kid, a brown chipmunk Pokemon with a leafy green bonnet, does a double-take at the two strangers in his village, and skids to a stop. The Pokemon that had been chasing the little guy slams into him, and the two fall into a squirming, squabbling heap.

“It’s definitely not where I expected Junie of all Pokemon to settle down,” Tobias says, stepping around the kids. “It’s too…”

“Peaceful?”

“I was going to say boring, but yeah.”

Nia elbows him to be polite, still looking around as they approach the merchant’s shop. The village is open to the sun, but it’s surrounded by a thick wall of pine trees. Nia can’t decide if the forest feels reassuring or confining. Then again, she lives inside a giant tree, so she doesn’t really have room to talk.

“Nia?”

Nia stops in place, ears perking at the familiar voice. She spins to find it, beaming when she sees Junie stopped mid-step mere feet away. The rookidee is clearly shocked, beak open and wide ruby eyes flicking between Nia and Tobias in disbelief.

“Junie!” Nia says.

Junie blinks once. Twice. Then she finally seems to register that this is really happening. She tweets an excited, shrill noise before rocketing into Nia’s open arms. Nia falls to the dirt and moss, laughing.

“What’re you doing here?!” Junie says, nuzzling into Nia’s fur. “Where did you even come from?”

“We flew!” Nia laughs, hugging her. “Did you not see us? Half the village has been staring at us since we landed.”

“I just got into town!” Junie leans back just enough to meet Nia’s eyes, feathers fluffed with excitement. “What’re you doing here?!”

Nia feels her smile falter a bit. She sits up, and Junie resettles in her lap. “We have business south of here, so we thought we would stop by and visit you on the way.”

“I’m so glad you did! I missed your adorable face.” Junie’s gaze flicks behind Nia to where Tobias is standing, and she perks up all over again. “And Toby’s here too!”

“I told you not to call me that,” Tobias growls.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your charming personality!”

Nia giggles, while Tobias just rolls his eyes.

“Ahem.”

Nia and Junie look up to see a pink cow Pokemon standing over them, a basket full of linens held against her hip.

Oh. They decided to have their reunion right in the middle of town, didn’t they? And right in the middle of one of the walking paths, too.

Junie laughs and flaps her way out of Nia’s lap. “Sorry, Marie!”

Nia scrambles to follow. “Sorry, ma’am!”

Marie shakes her head, but she’s smiling as she passes. “Good to see you so happy, Junie. Just keep the paths clear, all right?”

Junie salutes the Pokemon’s back, sending Nia a wry smile.

Huh. Nia had gotten the impression back in Ghatha that Junie didn’t talk to her neighbors much, but that was a pretty casual exchange with Marie. Maybe she’s grown more comfortable with them since then?

Once the cow Pokemon is out of earshot, stopping outside of her home to hang the linens on a makeshift clothesline, Junie turns to Nia. “Come on, we can go back to my place.”

“Oh, sure!”

Nia and Tobias follow as Junie hops down one of the village’s dirt paths, then leaves the trail entirely to head into the woods.

Nia hesitates at the tree line, watching Junie’s dark feathers get nearly swallowed up by the forest’s heavy shade. The three of them are dwarfed by the tall evergreens here.

“You don’t live in town?” Nia asks.

“Nope! I live with Bo now! He should actually be stopping by the house soon with some lunch.”

Nia’s brows rise at the bird’s easy answer, but she dutifully follows before she can lose sight of the rookidee.

Junie had seemed so stubbornly independent back in Ghatha. When did that change? Nia did tell her she should try connecting more with her neighbors, but this feels like a big step.

“Bo?” Tobias asks when they catch up.

“Yeah! He’s a dork, but he’s the best. A real metal guy.”

Nia tilts her head, hearing the joke in Junie’s voice but unsure of what to make of it. A pun, no doubt.

“Is he your, um…”

Junie must pick up on what Nia is asking, because she scrunches up her face and sticks out her tongue. “Ew, no, gross. He’s like. A dad. Or an older brother, maybe. Oh! No, wait, he’s definitely an uncle!”

“How do you just decide that someone’s an uncle?” Tobias asks.

“When they have uncle energy, duh. Keep up, Toby.”

Tobias sends Nia a look that makes it clear he’s already done with Junie for this visit. Nia bites back a laugh.

The rookidee leads them farther into the forest than Nia expects, until Stonebrook is out of sight behind them and they’re surrounded by the quiet of the trees. It’s heavily shaded here with the canopy of evergreens so thick, and the air cools notably. At first, Nia almost finds it unnerving, used to the dappled sunshine of the forest in Bethoc’s Haven, but the peaceful quiet and gentle, dark colors grow on her quickly. The ground underfoot is a soft mix of dirt, moss, and soft pine needles, and the air is fragrant with the scent. The trunks of the pines tower above them. There’s less foliage to wade through, which is nice. It’s not bad, necessarily. Just…different.

Finally, Nia sees something up ahead, an out of place gray amongst the cool browns and greens of the forest.

“This is where we live!” Junie chirps, hopping ahead to present it with a wide flourish of her wings.

It’s a small abode made of stone, much like the homes back in Stonebrook proper. One of its walls seems to be made up of the large tree it’s propped against, and its roof is a grassy slant of soil atop a slab of stone. The other walls are made of smaller, carefully stacked rocks, with only two rectangular gaps left on either side of the wooden door—windows, most likely, seeing as they’re currently covered by leafy blinds. There are a few flowers and paint doodles decorating the outside, almost certainly Junie’s doing, that brighten the gray exterior. The little house is cushioned by moss and framed by more giant pine trees, but there are a few slices of sunshine in this part of the forest, making the whole place look homey rather than unwelcoming.

“It’s lovely!” Nia says, charmed.

“You sleep on the ground?” Tobias asks, sounding more confused than anything.

“Hey, what’s wrong with that?” Junie asks, giving him a glare. “You sleep on the ground!”

“We literally live in a tree.”

Junie stops mid-retort, blinking. “Huh. Guess you do. Still! Lots of Pokemon sleep on ground level!”

“Not flying types.”

“We’ve had some rough storms around here, okay?” Junie huffs. “Besides, I used to sleep in trees before moving in with Bo, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I kept falling out, and it got so drafty! This is much cozier.”

“Or maybe you’re just a weirdo.”

“Maybe it’s just your human side talking,” Nia suggests, biting back a laugh at the cross look Junie sends her partner. “Humans do like being cozy.”

“Because it’s the best!” Junie says with a decisive nod. She opens her mouth to say something else, then pauses, glancing up through the trees as they rustle with the wind. “Oh! I think Bo’s home!”

Nia peers up through the pine branches and the slivers of sunlight, but she can’t see much of anything through the thick boughs.

“I’d step back if I were you,” Junie says, hopping back against the house. “I’ve been knocked over by his tailwind more times than I can count.”

Finally, Nia sees him: a silver bird diving through a gap in the evergreens. He flashes bright when he cuts through a ray of sunlight, like the sun reflecting off a car, and the undersides of his wings are a scarlet red. As he descends, Nia realizes just how big he really is, and scrambles back to make room, Tobias right on her heels.

The bird slows down with a few powerful flaps right before he meets the forest floor. The gust created from his wings makes Nia brace herself against the house and squint her eyes shut as he settles heavily onto the mossy ground.

Nia blinks grit from her eyes and trails her gaze up from huge talons and a bulky silver body until she finds the bird’s face. He’s gotta be over two times their height, and he’s seemingly covered in…metal? The wings he tucks against his sides almost seem to be tipped in blades, sharp as they are, but they don’t cut through the satchel strapped around his body. His head is an equally sharp thing, with a wicked beak of sharp teeth and a spike of metal atop his head, almost like a helmet. He meets Nia’s gaze with keen yellow eyes.

“You didn’t tell me we were having visitors, Junebug,” the bird says, voice more playful than Nia expects. “I would’ve cleaned the place up a bit. Now I just look like a bad host.”

Junie laughs, hopping forward to gesture with her wings. “I’m just as surprised as you are! These are the friends I told you about, from Ghatha! Nia and Toby.”

“Tobias, actually,” Tobias corrects. It’s halfhearted, though, as he sizes up the Pokemon in front of them.

Nia gives the large bird a smile and a shy wave.

The bird squawks a laugh. “You two are just like Junie described! Nice to meet you. I’m Bolat. Local mail ‘mon and self-appointed wrangler for this little impidimp.”

Bolat reaches out a taloned foot to nudge Junie, surprisingly gentle. The rookidee trills an annoyed sound as she’s still nearly knocked over, but she’s smiling.

“I keep your life exciting and you know it!”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Nia says, bowing lightly. Tobias doesn’t say anything, but Nia sees him give the bird a respectful nod.

“You too.” Bolat tilts his head, looking at them consideringly. “Do you two plan to bunk with us tonight?”

“Oh! I-I mean, we can find somewhere else to sleep if it’s any trouble, but—”

Bolat laughs and shakes his head. “No no, you’re fine. We have room. We’ll just need to get you some bedding for a proper nest. Guessing you haven’t done that yet?”

“They just got here!” Junie says. “Gimme like an hour. There’s some decent stuff in that glen west of here, right?”

Bolat hums, eyeing the two of them again before turning back to Junie. “How about I just grab some bedding for the night while I’m out on my second run? I’m sure you want to catch up anyways.”

Nia almost protests out of pure politeness, but glances at Junie instead. This is her home, after all. Even if Nia is surprised that the little bird isn’t immediately insisting she can do it herself.

After a moment of thought, though, Junie just nods. “If you don’t mind, that’d be awesome! Thanks, Bo.”

“Eh, no big. It’s a slow day anyways. Ah, here.” Bolat lifts a wing to dip his beak into the satchel looped over his body, rummaging around through…letters? He finally re-emerges with a small sack, which he drops in front of Junie. “Grabbed some lunch. Make sure you eat a few of the chestnuts and greens—you need more bulk if you want to carry more than a letter at a time.”

Junie groans and butts her head against Bolat’s leg with a thonk. “I know, I know! I’ll eat my stupid veggies. Thanks.”

Bolat laughs again and looks at Nia and Tobias. “There should be enough in there for all three of you, if you haven’t had lunch yet. I’ll pick something else up for myself.”

“Are you sure?” Nia asks, ears lowering. She can’t help feeling like they’re imposing, showing up so suddenly and making Bolat do so much for them.

“Of course!” Bolat waves them off with a giant wing. “Any friend of June’s is a friend of mine. Make yourselves at home.”

“Well…thank you, then.”

“’Course.” Bolat squints up through the trees at the midday sunshine. “I’d better get going if I don’t want to be late, though. Can you hold down the fort until I get back, Junebug?”

“Aye aye, cap’n!” Junie says, saluting with her little wing.

“In that case, I’ll see you all this evening with bedding in tow. See you!”

Bolat barely waits for Nia and Tobias to say their own goodbyes before he’s flapping hard at the ground again and lifting up into the air. Nia watches, kind of awestruck that a bird seemingly made of metal can appear so light and graceful as he flies up between the trees and out of sight.

Then Nia squints, looking down at Junie. “’A real metal guy?’”

Junie chirps a laugh. “I wasn’t lying, was I?”

Tobias snorts. “A skarmory’s about as metal as a flying type can get.”

“Exactly! Now, come on in. I can’t make you guys proper nests until Bo brings back some fluff, but we can still catch up and eat!”

Junie grabs the lip of the sack of food and drags it along behind her, flapping furiously against its weight. Nia holds open the front door so Junie can get inside, watching as the little bird pulls open the blinds on the two small windows to let in some fresh air and sunlight. Then Nia follows her, surprised by how the inside of the little home feels both cozy and more spacious than she expects.

It’s clearly a space built for just one or two Pokemon, but it’s organized. There’s a small basin off to one side of the room, with bowls, cloths, and other supplies resting near it on a small, flat boulder. On the other side, there’s a larger slab of stone, where two nests sit. One is clearly Junie’s, a tiny bowl of moss and pine needles perfectly sized to cup her body. The second nest is much, much larger, and Nia has to stare at it for a moment to try to understand what she’s looking at.

Are those…thorns?

Junie notices Nia’s expression and twitters a laugh. “Yeah, Bo sleeps in a nest of brambles. Apparently lots of skarmory do it to protect their chicks and toughen up their feathers or something? Or he’s just a freak, I dunno.”

“That’s, um…really intense,” Nia settles on.

“Right?! I’ll stick with my soft, squishy nest, thank you very much. I’m a delicate lady, after all.”

Over near the table, Tobias snorts.

“Oh, what?” Junie says, playfully challenging. “Something you want to say, Toby?”

“Lots of things. But then Nia would scold me for being rude.”

“Like that ever stopped you before.”

Nia smiles as the two go back and forth. She trails closer to the nests, which are sitting right next to one another, almost touching.

“You two seem close,” Nia says, glancing back at Junie.

“I mean…I guess? I haven’t really been here that long.”

“Yeah, but you seemed really against letting anyone help you back in Ghatha. So I guess I’m just glad you found someone here you trust.”

“Yeah…” Junie starts preening her wing, visibly embarrassed. “I was being kind of dumb about that, in hindsight. Like. Bo can be ridiculous, but he’s super nice, y’know? I really like living here. He’s been teaching me a lot, too! Like getting me to fly higher without freaking out.”

Nia turns to look at Junie. “Really?”

“Yup! I can even fly above the trees now! Not by much before I panic again, but I’m definitely better than before. Bo thinks he can get me over my fear of heights in under a year!”

“See if he can teach Nia, too,” Tobias jokes, picking up a bowl to inspect it.

“This…seems like a big deal to you,” Nia says slowly, a little confused. “I-I mean, don’t get me wrong! It’s great! But your fear of heights didn’t seem to bother you that much before?”

“Well…” Junie hops over to fiddle with the tie on the sack of food, clearly looking for something to keep herself busy. “I couldn’t help you in the fire at Ghatha because I was too scared of flying, and I only ended up living with Bo because I was too weak to navigate a storm. So I guess I just want to get better at being a flying type so I can actually do things and not be scared all the time. Plus, I’ll need to be able to fly for real if I want to have a more exciting job than just running errands around Stonebrook.”

“A job?” Tobias asks, frowning. “Like as a Seeker?”

Junie bursts into laughter. “Absolutely not! Fighting’s the worst. Don’t know how you do it, Nia. And dealing with clients and guildmasters? Ugh. No thanks.”

“What’re you hoping to do instead?” Nia asks.

“I’m thinking a mail ‘mon like Bo!” Junie says. She abandons the sack and hops up onto the windowsill to better meet Nia’s gaze. She looks excited, chest puffed and eyes bright. “It’ll take me a few years to learn the landscape well enough to find my way around, and I have to build up enough strength to actually carry a few letters long distance—especially since I have to stay a pipsqueak forever—but I think I’d really like it! Bo’s let me tag along on a few of his runs and it’s the best. He gets to go everywhere and he meets so many funny people!”

Nia blinks at Junie’s enthusiasm, surprised. That’s…quite the long-term goal. Without thinking, she says, “Years? But what about getting back home?”

Junie seems confused for a moment, but then she pouts. “Oh. Right. You still want to be human again, don’t you?”

Nia jerks back. She remembers Junie mentioning something like this in Ghatha, but— “You don’t? You want to stay here? Like this? Forever?”

Junie’s pout deepens into something more genuinely troubled. Her eyes flick to Tobias before resettling on Nia. “Yeah? Just because you want to go back to the boring old human world doesn’t mean everyone does.”

“But…” Nia trails off, at a loss for words. She looks at Tobias, wondering if he’s as surprised as she is. He’s pointedly fiddling with the bowl in his hands, not meeting Nia’s eyes. Oh. Right. Leaving would mean…leaving him behind. And everyone else, too.

But even with that in mind, Nia still can’t help her shock. When she thinks of the human world, she doesn’t think of how boring it can be. She thinks of her family, of going home and reuniting with them. She thinks of her brother pulling her into a crushing hug and lifting her off the ground. She thinks of her mom crying and cooking a big meal for the family to eat together. She thinks of Toni refusing to leave her side for a week straight and catching her up on everything she missed.

Does Junie not have people like that to go home to?

“Do you not remember anything yet?” Nia asks. “About your old life?”

Junie hops down to the soft dirt of the floor and back over to the sack of food. “No, I remember. Not a lot, but enough. It just isn’t good enough to convince me to go back.”

“Wait, doesn’t Will have some theory about humans having to get close to death to regain their memories?” Tobias asks, narrowing his eyes at Junie. “Did you get your memories back after the fire in Ghatha?”

“Nope! Not there. I got pretty hurt right after I got back to Stonebrook, so it must’ve been then. I didn’t know about the whole near-death thing, but it did happen while I was recovering, so.”

“You got hurt?!” Nia asks, alarmed despite knowing that Junie has been totally fine the entire time they’ve been talking. She still can’t resist stepping closer and crouching to scan the delicate little bird’s body. “It had to be serious if you remembered something.”

Junie chirps a laugh. “Sure was! A nasty storm hit the woods and a branch fell on me. Almost flattened me like a pancake! Funny how that’s almost happened twice now, huh? Anyways, that’s how I met Bo! He helped me get back on my feet. Oh! And look at this!”

Junie ignores the distress surely painting Nia’s face to hop back a step. Then, with a furrow in her little brow and a few moments of quiet, a bubble of bright orange energy flickers to life around her.

Aura. Junie’s aura. Nia can sense it immediately, even if she hadn’t been able to see it herself. Her jaw drops.

The bubble around the rookidee only lasts for a second or two, weak and faint, before vanishing again. Junie pants, clearly exhausted from the little display, but beams at Nia and Tobias’ gobsmacked expressions.

“I used protect when the branch landed on me! Though apparently not very well, since I still fractured some bones. Definitely not as strong as the one you used in Ghatha, Nia. But still! Isn’t that cool?!”

“You can use aura now?” Tobias asks, looking horrified. He’s probably thinking about Junie possessing all of the intimate soul-reading powers that Nia has.

Junie shakes her head. “Nah. Just this one move. But I still thought it was neat!”

“It is neat,” Nia offers a beat too late, feeling off-kilter. That one book in the archives did mention that all humans could use protect, but it’s still strange seeing it in action.

Junie puffs out her little chest, proud, before realizing something. She glares at Nia. “Wait, you also got some of your memories back? That means you almost died again, too! I thought I told you guys not to get into any more trouble!”

Nia winces, holding out her hands in a placating gesture. “T-To be fair, I just got really sick?”

“That’s an understatement,” Tobias grumbles, walking over to flick Nia with his tail.

“Oh.” Junie’s irritation deflates. “That sucks.”

“A little,” Nia laughs. “Although…Junie, do me a favor and promise to go to a doctor right away if you get sick, okay? It can get pretty serious for humans.”

Junie opens her mouth to make a lighthearted quip, but something about the expressions on their faces stops her. She tilts her head, clearly curious, but eventually chirps, “Yeah, okay. I promise.”

After that, they settle on the ground outside to eat, where the dirt and moss has been warmed a bit by the sun. Tobias opens the sack Bolat brought back, where a small feast of berries, veggies, and some spiky chestnuts await them for lunch.

Junie gets to work carefully cracking open the chestnuts with her beak while Nia and Tobias divvy up the rest of the food for their impromptu picnic. It’s still chilly out, especially in the shade of the forest, but it’s not as cold as it was while flying over. The wind smells like fresh pine as it rattles through the trees, and dappled sunlight plays across the ground.

“I still feel bad eating the food Bolat got specifically for you two,” Nia says as Junie passes them some of the unshelled chestnuts to add to their meal.

“Don’t be. Bo’s really generous, and he finds lots of food while he’s out on the job. He took me in when I got hurt and took care of me without a second thought.”

Nia smiles as she takes a bite of a carrot-like vegetable, crunching away at it. Bolat does seem awfully nice, and Nia’s beyond grateful that Junie found someone like him to take care of her when she was so injured. She doesn’t want to imagine what would’ve happened otherwise.

“So, catch me up,” Junie says around a mouthful of food. “Any leads on the whole ‘returning to the human world’ front?”

Nia feels Tobias’ eyes on her, and tries not to look too eager at the prospect. “Um…a few? I have some ideas, but nothing solid yet.”

Junie hums, clearly sympathetic but not at all upset on her own behalf. “That sucks. Sorry, Nia. Let me know if I can help, okay? Although I don’t know what I could add that you and Will don’t already have covered.”

Nia slowly puts her own food back down. “Junie, you…you really don’t want to go back home, do you?”

Junie shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “I mean. I miss some stuff, I guess, but most of my memories are just…blah, you know? And I’m happy here! Even though I’m gonna be a little shrimp forever, I’m much happier here than I ever was as a human.”

Nia sits back, torn. On one hand, it’s not like she can argue with Junie’s feelings. And just because Nia wants to see her family and friends so desperately doesn’t mean everyone does. But to just abandon her old life entirely? Just like that?

“You aren’t worried that somebody will miss you?” Nia can’t help asking.

“Not really. They aren’t my problem anymore.”

What in the world does that mean?

Nia tries not to visibly slump, and starts picking at her food again. She’d been so excited to share her recovered memories with the rookidee, but now she isn’t so sure she wants to. Would Junie even want her to, or would it just be awkward?

“So is that the mission you’re doing south of here? Figuring out human stuff?”

“Um, no. Not really. We are going to see Will, but not about that.”

“What for, then?”

Nia glances at Tobias. He’s munching on a chestnut, and gives Nia a wave of his hand that clearly says it’s Nia’s prerogative how much she wants to share.

“Okay, your little telepathic communication thing is adorable, but what’s with the serious face?” Junie asks. She looks between Nia and Tobias. “You’re not telling me something.”

For a moment, Nia considers brushing off Junie’s concerns. She hadn’t told Xander’s team or Andyn’s team about the whole “world ending” thing, but…well, quite frankly, she doesn’t think Junie will let it go now that she’s picked up on it.

Plus, she’s human like Nia, as much as she apparently doesn’t want to be anymore. She didn’t have a life here before all of this started happening. It feels right, to let her in on the secret too.

Nia puts her food down again. “You’re right. Sorry. We, um…we found something out recently. Something big.”

Junie frowns. “Bad big?”

“Certainly not good big,” Tobias huffs.

“We met Giratina,” Nia says. “He—"

“Wait, back up. Giratina? The scary nightmare creature that Will explicitly told us not to talk to?”

Nia winces. “Yes? He’s, um…actually pretty civil. If a bit of a grouch.”

“So like Tobias, then,” Junie says. She doesn’t even bask in his reaction, adding, “Okay, hold up, start from the beginning. I need the whole story.”

Nia hesitates, but crumbles quickly under Junie’s insistent gaze.

So Nia tells the story yet again, from the moment when Tobias noticed Giratina following them, all the way up to their talk with August when they returned to the guild. She’s getting better at summarizing after telling the story twice before, but Tobias still jumps in occasionally to add any important details that she forgets. Junie is surprisingly quiet for most of it, aside from when she chastises them for being idiots, jumping down into dangerous mines with criminals and meeting up with crazy bugs who want to send them to the distortion world.

Finally, voice raspy and meal still only half-finished, Nia says, “And that’s the gist. This world—the Pokemon world—is basically in danger of falling apart entirely if we don’t do something to stop it. And the human world will go down with it.”

“Nia thinks Will might have some human connections who can help us find Xerneas, so that she can strengthen the barrier,” Tobias adds. “Or fix it afterwards, if it’s predetermined to break. Either way, we don’t have much go to go on, so we’re checking with him just in case.”

Junie’s expression is somber when they finish. She stares long and hard at the dirt, clearly deep in thought. Finally, she sighs and looks up. “Well. That’s a fine pickle. And just when I was getting comfy here, too. I guess we’ll just have to see what Will has to say, right?”

Nia blinks, then echoes the little bird. “We?”

“Well, yeah! I’m coming with you two to Will’s place, of course.” Junie says. “I just got you back. You aren’t ditching me again while you go off to save the world!”

Nia straightens up, heart lifting. “Really?”

Tobias groans. “Really?”

“Yup! You’re stuck with me, lizard-breath.”

“Greeeaaat,” Tobias drawls, using his flames to char a pecha berry cupped in his palms.

“But what about Bolat?” Nia asks.

Junie waves Nia off. “He’ll be fine! He was on his own forever before I showed up. As long as I come back eventually to show him I’m not dead I’m sure he’ll be cool about it. And I can keep training while we head south so I’m not slacking!”

Nia smiles, something in her relaxing. “That’d be great, Junie. We’d be happy to have you.”

“Happy is a strong word,” Tobias says.

Nia glances at him, afraid for a moment that she’d just made a decision for the both of them that he’s genuinely upset about, but he doesn’t actually look bothered by this development. He bites into his berry with a casual movement, his tail flame its usual calm flicker and his expression even. Just their usual banter, then.

“Aw, c’mon! I’m excited to be traveling with you guys again! I guess we should leave right away tomorrow morning since this is kind of time-sensitive, huh? We’ve got mysteries to solve, worlds to save, eldritch horrors to meet—oh! Nia!”

Nia jumps, nearly dropping the peeled chestnut in her hand. “Y-Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask earlier, but I didn’t want to interrupt. If you can communicate with Giratina through reflections and he’s on our side now, could we like. Call him?”

Nia stares at Junie, chestnut forgotten. “You want to talk to him? He’s…kinda scary.”

“That’s even better!” Junie says, hopping up excitedly. “It’ll be like we’re trying to summon demons at a sleepover. Wait here!”

Junie darts inside her and Bolat’s home, and Nia looks at Tobias, bewildered.

The charmander shrugs, apparently more or less unphased. “You did suggest we get in touch with him so he knows what we’re up to.”

“I…guess?”

Junie flaps out the front door in an unsteady bob, a small stone bowl barely gripped in her tiny claws. She drops it on the ground in front of Nia, then lands clumsily on the other side.

“There! Will that work? You can use your canteen water, right?”

Okay, guess they’re doing this right now. Nia sighs, once again putting the last of her food aside to grab her canteen and pour an inch of water into the bowl. Sunlight bounces across the water’s surface as it settles. The whole thing is about the size of Nia’s hand, just large enough to see faint reflections of the trees above them.

“Now what?” Junie asks, practically vibrating. “Do we have to chant or something?”

“I don’t actually know,” Nia says, frowning. “We haven’t tried to call him like this before.”

“He can’t be far,” Tobias says, leaning closer to the bowl. “He was following us on the trip over.”

Just as Nia’s about to try calling for Giratina, Junie shouts, “Hey, lord of nightmares! Get your butt over here!”

“Junie!” Nia hisses, wide-eyed.

“What?! You said he’s on your side now!”

“He is, but he’s also a god with a temper!”

“Uh, hey,” Tobias says, pointing. “He’s here.”

Nia looks down, surprised. Sure enough, she can see the faint reflection of Giratina’s silhouette in the surface of the bowl. Just his head, really, the rest of his body likely unable to fit into view.

“Whoa,” Junie breathes, feathers ruffled but expression delighted.

Giratina’s eyes narrow slightly, as if to ask what they want. Nia can practically hear his rapidly thinning patience.

“W-We saw you following us earlier, over the ocean,” Nia explains. “So I thought you were maybe wondering what we were doing? I figured we could give you an update. I-If you’d like.”

“We also wanted to see if we could contact you,” Tobias adds. “Which I guess is a yes.”

Giratina nods, looking back at Nia. Waiting.

She jerks. “O-Oh! Okay. Um. So we’re looking for a friend of mine, a human, who has been gathering other humans. We think he might have an idea of where to find Xerneas, since I know he’s been researching a lot of stuff and talking to a lot of people. So that’s why we’re, uh. Here. And traveling.”

Giratina seems to mull that over for a moment, before nodding his approval.

“Can he not talk?” Junie whispers, loudly.

“He talked to me in his dimension,” Nia says, feeling weirdly rude speaking about Giratina in the third-person when he’s right there. “But I don’t think he can speak to us through reflections?”

“But what if he has something important to tell you?”

Giratina shifts, catching their attention before Nia or Tobias can answer. He brings up a tendril-like wing, the giant talon at its tip settling close to the surface of the reflection and blocking out Giratina himself.

“Does he want you to…touch him? E.T. style?” Junie asks. “Can you even do that?”

Nia frowns, staring at the talon seemingly right on the other side of the water’s surface. “I…don’t know. He did pull me through a reflection in Shivergleam, but I kind of assumed that was like…a special ritual that Edme set up?”

“He did it at the river near the guild too,” Tobias grumbles.

Huh. He’s right. Which means…

Curious, and knowing that the legendary would have been able to kill her easily last time they met but decided not to, Nia lifts her hand and holds it over the water.

“You sure?” Junie asks.

Tobias reaches out and grabs Nia’s free arm, as if to make sure he isn’t left behind this time if she’s yanked through again.

With a deep breath, Nia dips her finger gently into the chilled water, trying not to disturb the reflections on the surface. Sure enough, after an inch or two, she hits not the smooth stone of the bowl’s bottom, but the dulled point of something else, ice-cold.

Giratina.

Nia’s brows raise. Curious, she dips the rest of her hand into the bowl. While she can’t wrap her hand around the sheer size of the claw, it’s undeniable that she has surpassed the depth of the bowl itself. Like a magic trick.

“Whoa,” Junie murmurs again.

Satisfied for now, Nia pulls her hand free, amazed to realize her fur isn’t even wet. She blinks down at the water as it settles. Giratina has pulled away so they can see his face again.

“So when you’re around, you can make any reflection into a portal to the distortion world?” Tobias asks.

The legendary nods.

“Does that only work for Nia? Or for anyone?” Junie asks.

Nia doesn’t know how Giratina does it, but she can practically feel his exasperation through the reflection.

“Oh, r-right. Yes or no questions, Junie.”

“Fine, fine! How about this—can anyone go through a portal you open?”

Giratina nods again.

The three of them sit back as one.

“Huh,” Nia says. “I’m not sure that really changes anything? But I guess it’s good to know that we can check in with you any time if we need to.”

“Could be a helpful escape route in an emergency,” Tobias muses, hand at his chin. “As long as we find a reflection large enough.”

Giratina suddenly jerks, looking off to the side. His eyes narrow. He looks back at them, as if asking if they’re done here. There must be another one of those rumblings in the rift that Nia had experienced while there. A sign of the coming disaster. He probably wants to check it out to make sure it’s nothing more serious.

“I think that’s all we know right now. Um. Thank you for answering?” Nia says, feeling awkward about how exactly she’s supposed to sign off with a legendary.

Giratina nods, then slips out of sight. The reflection of the trees overhead and Nia’s curious face, leant over the bowl, flicker back into sight.

The three of them are quiet for a moment, digesting that experience.

“Okay, so. World-ending terror aside, that was pretty awesome,” Junie says. She hops up, looking all too excited. “We should try to summon more horror monsters before we have to get on the road tomorrow! Bo told me about this Pokémon called Darkrai who gives you nightmares. I don’t think he does it to mess with people, but let’s pretend he does because that’s much scarier.”

Nia can’t help laughing. The tension that had settled over them breaks instantly.

“Darkrai’s a legendary, feather-brain,” Tobias says. “He’s probably already dormant.”

“But he’s the god of nightmares or something! So maybe he’s immune to sleep stuff!”

Nia relaxes and finishes the last few bites of her meal as the two of them start up another silly argument. The exhaustion of the flight and the day’s antics are finally starting to weigh on her, but for at least tonight they can rest here with Junie and Bolat.

Suddenly, with just one more friend at their side, everything ahead doesn’t seem quite as scary.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #skarmory #talonflame #rookidee #braviary #pokemon #tesha writes #tesha draws #pmd seekers of soul

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