#but no he wanted ***my*** trees. only the ones i was walking to
Note
Could you do a blurb where reader rolls a joint for Eddie for the first time with all her cute papers and stuff and he loves it?
Happy Stoner Christmas!
happy 4/20! 😶🌫️💚
“Well, if it isn’t for my favorite customer.”
You hear him before you see him, and sit up straighter as you look up, torso twisting around to face Eddie.
He’s walking through the tree line that acts as the ‘fence’ to your backyard. Not exactly born into wealth, your home is on the edge of Hawkins and lacks the white picket fence and concrete driveway, with nature and gravel filling in. Just down the street is Jonathan Byers’ home.
Confidence radiates off of Eddie as he approaches the picnic bench you were waiting on, his curls sway a little. He’s rocking a band shirt today—long sleeves rolled up his forearms—and some dark jeans. You try not to squirm under his stare, the wild grin on his face stirring something in your tummy.
You knew you’d end up crushing on him after the first time you went to him for weed instead of Rick. He was cute.
Eddie was so freaking cute and charming and funny. You probably would have been fine if he had just been cute and charming, but the humorous trait was your weakness. You loved funny guys.
Sure enough, by the fourth time he dealt to you—his tongue was in your mouth. And the fifth time, you’d gone to third base. Now, whatever happened when he came around just happened. You accepted it, even if it makes you a little nervous because you know very well you’re interested in more than just the benefits that come with your encounters.
You want him. Like, boyfriend him. It’s kind of tragic, actually, because you don’t even know if you’re the only one of his clientele he treats this way. Eddie can be fucking the rest of them for all you know and it drives you insane because you want to ask—you’re just too chicken shit.
“You say that as if this wasn’t prearranged.” You laugh out and Eddie snorts, dumping his black lunch pail on the leaf riddled bench top next to your scooby-doo lunch box with a metal clang.
“I’m trying to be cute and you’re ruining it.” When you laugh again, Eddie’s eyes squint in triumph, “And I’ll have you know I have been waiting—no, yearning for you to call upon me. Moved my bed over to the phone and everything. Thought you forgot allllllll about me.”
“Me forget about you? Impossible.” You declare in a joking manner, though you truly mean the sentiment. Your mental health might be better if you could forget him. Then you wouldn’t be able to make yourself sick over the idea of him kissing other people.
“You better mean that.” He jabs an accusatory finger, silver ring glinting, in your direction as he settles in across from you, “The usual, my sweet?”
UGH! SEE?! Too damn cute.
“Please?” You’re too busy opening up your own lunch box full of supplies to notice the heated look he fixes you with right then.
Eddie clears his throat, tongue darting out to swipe over his lower lip as he pops the lid of his lunch pail open, pulling out a little baggie with your favorite strain of buds. He eyes it with a glint in his eye before it’s held out to you, dangling from his fingertips.
You look up once you realize it’s being offered, and pinch the top of the baggie as your other hand holds out the folded bills. Eddie flicks them out of your loose grip, and it goes flying to land in your lap while you jump in surprise.
“My bad,” he snickers, his pretty teeth gleaming, “it’s on the house.”
You pick up exactly where he wants you to, “In that case, please accept my offer to smoke you out with my newly acquired goods.”
That feeling in your belly—butterflies—intensifies at the slow and large smile that spreads on his face, forcing his little dimple to make an appearance.
It always goes like this now.
Eddie comes over (or you go to him), weed is exchanged and when you try to pay him for it, he refuses. Then, you invite him to smoke weed with you (and he’ll always pull from the extra inventory he carries around—never from what he’s just given you), the two of you get high and you finally feel brave enough to make a move because you know he always waits for you to do it. Gives you the power to start things, your own comfort, though he takes full control once you get going. He’s always so keen on taking care of you. You’d once thought that maybe he didn’t want you as much as you wanted him, since it was always you initiating things, but the way he’d beg for you, ramble about how much he wanted you, how desperate he was for you and his ‘finally, I thought I was gonna die’s on just your kisses alone, soothed that insecurity.
“I’d be delighted to! But─”
“Nope.” You interrupt, having seen his hand reaching into his pail. “My weed—not yours.”
He raises his eyebrows in surprise and when you don’t back down, both of his hands are lifted in surrender before one is extended to you out on the bench, palm up. Eddie’s waiting for you to give him your grinder and the weed so he can start rolling but you low five his palm instead and he chuckles, skin tingling from the contact.
“That’s not exactly what I meant.”
“I know, but I’m also rolling today, too.”
Eddie scoffs and smirks, fixing you with that heated stare again and you quickly divert your gaze, pulling out your pretty purple grinder and getting to work. You are not gonna let him make you nervous and fumble around, “Baby…”
Oh, god. The way he coos it out, nice and low—you’re instantly taken back to other times you’d heard him say it like that. You’d been bent into all kinds of positions as it was rasped into your ear, the sweat from both of your bodies plastering Eddie to you. Your hand twists the top of the grinder on autopilot as you stare at nothing, gaze vacant.
Eddie knows exactly where your mind has taken you and his smirk widens.
“You can’t roll for shit.”
That snaps you out of your stupor, mouth dropping.
“I can, too! You’ve never seen me put in the work.”
“I have, that’s why I roll.”
And you cringe as you recall the first time you’d try to roll a joint. It had been the second time Eddie sold to you, having only used pre-rolled cones prior. Those only meant you had to pack the wrap in with weed, kind of like a funnel and then twist the end closed before partaking.
Rolling from start to finish was a whole other endeavor and you’d failed so badly, Eddie had rolled around on the floor laughing. You didn’t take any offense, too busy jumping up and down inside at having made the cute, charming funny guy you liked laugh.
“I’ve been practicing,” You pout, placing the grinder down after you’re sure the nug of the bud you’d placed in it was now almost powder-like.
“You tryna impress me, hm?” He hums out, and you refuse to look up, knowing those pretty brown eyes of his are gonna be lidded and it’ll do you in early. You’ll have to jump him right there, “Been practicing to show me what you can do?”
You ignore him, focusing instead on the rolling papers you had.
Eddie places his chin in his hand, watching you intently as you frown in concentration before it breaks when you select a rolling paper, cherries decorating the white sheets. You pull your small rolling tray out and some part of Eddie throbs. You hadn’t had that before.
You quickly scrunch a filter together, folding the rolling paper and placing the filter at the edge of the fold before you unscrew the grinder and begin pinching the green within to sprinkle on the paper. Once it was full, and Eddie notices with wide eyes that you’ve packed it with a significant amount, you use dexterous fingers to carefully roll it together, tongue poking out as you take diligent care to ensure no fall out. Once the green flower is properly contained, you lick the free edge and fold it over the rest of the joint before you pinch and twist the end.
After a few moments of intense scrutiny, you hold it out victoriously, “Taduh!!! For you.”
Eddie takes the joint, turning it this way and that as he marvels. You really had been practicing, it was beautiful. He feels an intense amount of pride bloom in his chest and something else. Always for you, only ever for you.
“Did I do good?” You ask, voice shy as you bite your lip and this time you don’t look away when that heavy stare focuses on you. You wanna faint, but you don’t. He doesn’t say anything for a while and you know where tonight is gonna lead.
“Baby,” There’s that rasp again that makes you want to drop dead and smash your mouth to his at the same time, “I’m gonna need you to come over here now. Don’t think I can wait.”
#I got this request before i made the prompt post shhhhh#Queenimmadolla’s smokesesh#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson blurbs#eddie munson fanfic
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Darlin' pt 2
pt 1 / pt3
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (right now there is nothing romantic, maybe in the future I am undecided.)
Description: Where the reader arguably makes the stupidest decision of her life, following a ghoul who obviously doesn't want her there.
TW: Talk of physical abuse and bad parenting
I stayed there on my knees in the mud for some time. Stunned at the events that just transpired. I had nowhere to go, my wrists were still bound, and I had no weapon. I was truly fucked. I slowly rose to my feet as I looked around. The ghoul took one of the men's guns and Slim's was far too heavy for me to carry. I stumbled my way to the grave to look down inside. Honcho wasn't moving, and if I crawled down in there to get his gun there was no way I was getting out again. I sighed. I thought back to the ghoul. He was my only chance, but he didn't want my help.
I sighed again as I looked down at the chicken before untying her and setting her free. "At least one of us can be free," I said smiling to her before she ran off.
I stood there in the dark weighing my options when my eyes fell to the tracks in the mud. Maybe if I stick close to him, I'll be okay? At least until we reach a town. I would stay out of his way. Ideally, he wouldn't even know I was there.
"You are insane," I said to myself before I started following the tracks in front of me, grabbing Slim's bag on my way past him.
After about a day I was exhausted. I had no idea if I was going in the right direction anymore, I was no tracker and I lost his prints a long time ago. I stopped and bent over, pressing my palms to my knees while trying to catch my breath when I heard a gun cock behind me.
"Now why would you be following me?" The ghoul said behind me. "You must be a special kind of stupid."
I couldn't help the exhausted laugh that bubbled in my throat as I slowly stood up. "I must be. If you killed me right now, it wouldn't make a difference. I'll die on my own anyway." I said still facing away from him, feeling defeated.
There was a long moment of silence before I finally looked behind me. There was no hint of emotion on the ghoul's face.
"Let me follow you until we reach a settlement. I'll stay out of your way. I won't ask you for anything. Please." I begged.
At this, he looked down at my still bound wrists and then back up at my sad face. He sighed as he holstered his gun. "Come here then girl," he said, waving me over.
I tripped over my feet hurrying over to the man, raising my wrists as he took out his knife and cut me free. "Thank you, sir."
At this, it was his turn to laugh. "Sir? Well I'll be damned you are probably the only person left on this godforsaken planet with some manners."
I smiled up at him, I thought maybe he wasn't so scary after all.
"You will be completely silent. No complaining. If you annoy me, I will turn that pretty ass into jerky. Got it?" He said with a serious look on his face.
"Right. I can do that." I whispered looking down at my feet, feeling stupid.
We walked until it was far too dark to continue. I silently collected firewood as he put his bag down on the ground. As I made my way to our makeshift camp I stood in front of him with my arms full of sticks.
"What?" He barked out, obviously annoyed.
"Nothin'" I responded quickly before shuffling away from him embarrassed.
I tried my best to arrange the wood before pulling the flint out of the bag I took off of Slim. A small fire started and I smiled. I was cold from all the mud plastered to the front of me and was relieved to feel the warmth of the fire. I looked over at the ghoul to see him leaning up against a tree with his hat covering his face. I hummed happily as I thought about the arrangement we came up with, although I couldn't help but want to talk to him, the walk has been incredibly boring.
After a while of warming up by the fire, I got comfortable and drifted off to sleep.
-
I woke with a start. I looked around confused before I realized there was a boot in my side. I looked up at the ghoul hovering above me. "Get up darlin'." He said before walking away. "Time to move."
I quickly jumped up and grabbed my bag before running after him. This was the routine for days. I had honestly lost track of how long I had been following the ghoul. The silent marches from sun up to sun down were starting to get to me. I felt like I was going crazy.
"If my memory serves me well. I can be rid of you by tomorrow morning." He said with a sour tone.
"Okay," I responded quickly. I wanted to say as little as possible so he doesn't make true to his threat.
He looked back at me for a second as he continued to walk. "How did you get yourself into this mess anyway?"
I hesitated to answer, remembering he told me to stay silent. I looked up at him to see him scoff and turn away again.
"I ran away from home. Was on my own for a while before I ran into those idiots. They found me while I was sleeping, I had no chance to escape until you killed them."
"Ran away from home?" He repeated back at me. "That was stupid."
"Well, I'd rather be eaten by a ghoul than continue to be beaten by my father," I responded curtly.
He laughed at this. "Getting feisty aren't we darlin'?"
"Sorry," I responded. "I shouldn't have said that."
"No, you shouldn't have." He said with a tone that I couldn't quite figure out.
We walked in silence for what felt like forever, I tried to keep track of time by looking up at the sun but it was a cloudy, cold day. I couldn't help but start to shiver. My feet started to ache terribly, I wanted to ask for a break but I bit my tongue. No complaining had been one of his rules. I didn't want to push my luck with him.
"Stop." He said abruptly, pulling me from my thoughts.
"Wha-" I asked confused.
"Quiet." He interrupted as his hand slowly wrapped around his gun and turned towards me.
Before I had a chance to react the barrel of his gun was next to my face and he shot a round off.
I cried out as my ears rang painfully and I fell to the ground in shock. He said something to me, but I couldn't hear a thing. I held my head as I watched him walk behind me towards a man, dead on the ground. He rummaged through the dead man's pockets, pulling out a couple of caps before walking back towards me.
"A fiend." I thought to myself.
Instead of saying anything he offered me his gloved hand. I hesitantly took it and let him pull me back to my feet. He mumbled something but I couldn't hear it. Not long after this, we made camp again.
-
The next day, I slowed down a lot, but we were very close to town. I was beyond exhausted and barely had any will to keep going. The distance was growing between us before he finally stopped and whipped around, visibly annoyed.
"Walk faster. Remember what I said about annoying me darlin'." He barked at me.
I stared at him quietly before saying. "Why not just leave me behind, then?"
"Don't tempt me." He grumbled as he roughly grabbed my arm and started dragging me along.
A few minutes later we reached a small settlement. We got a couple of strange looks as he continued to drag me by my arm before finally letting go as soon as he set eyes on a "doctors" office. I just stood there. Unsure what to do now. I was in town, albeit a small one. There were only three buildings and a couple of food stalls. I could do whatever I wanted. I couldn't follow him anymore, that was for certain. I heard a commotion from inside the office, but it wasn't my problem anymore. I slowly wandered away eyeing up the food stands. Dog meat wasn't appetizing, but I hadn't had real food in days. I rummaged around Slim's pack before I found enough caps to buy myself a meal.
I hummed happily as I finished my food, I hadn't realized how hungry I was.
"Well, aren't you a pretty thing?" A man slurred behind me. "How much for your time?"
"I am not a prostitute." I scoffed as I turned around to face him.
"Free then?" He smiled menacingly as he grabbed ahold of me. His grip was so tight that I could feel my arm bruising.
Without thinking I drove the empty skewer in my hand into the man's eye and ran. I heard yelling behind me, but I kept running mindlessly. Before I realized what I was doing, I ran right into the arms of the ghoul as he was exiting the doctor's office.
"What in the hell?" He exclaimed, shocked by my actions before he looked up to see the man following me with blood running down his face.
"That bitch belongs to you? She must be some kind of freak to be with a ghoul." He growled angrily.
I buried my face into the ghoul's chest, afraid to look at his face. I desperately hoped he would take mercy on me once again.
"Well, darlin' you do have some bite to ya." The ghoul laughed while eyeing up the man standing in front of him.
"Give me the girl and get gone." The man spit out.
"Well, that just won't do." The ghoul responded while smirking, obviously amused. "Get behind me darlin'," he whispered quietly as he stared down the thug.
I quickly did as I was told before I heard some more shots ring off, before I knew it, the whole town turned into a shoot-off. I dropped to the ground and crawled into the doctor's office hiding behind the counter next to a very dead doctor.
"What the hell?" I mumbled to myself looking over at him, wondering what had transpired between him and the ghoul.
I stayed there until I heard a familiar voice yell out. "Anyone else wanna try me? That was fun, but I am itching for a REAL challenge." Only to get silence in return.
I peeked my head around the counter before finally getting up to my feet and shuffling to the doorway. Before I could stick my head out, the ghoul appeared in front of me.
"Thank you," I said smiling shyly up at him.
He stared down at me for a moment before saying, "Come on then. I need to get going if I am going to catch that bounty and Filly ain't far."
"I am coming with you?" I questioned, trying to hide the relief on my face.
"Well, you obviously can't be trusted on your own. Can ya darlin'?" He responded slyly.
"Oh thank you so much. You won't regret this!" I said to him as I grabbed ahold of his sleeve.
He stared down at my fist before looking back up into my eyes. I could see the hesitation on his face. Little did I know, this was the most human contact he had had in a long time, and it stirred something deep within him.
An odd friendship had formed between us, and neither of us knew how to feel about it.
tag list: @msrawog
#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard#the ghoul fallout#fallout#fallout tv series#the ghoul x reader
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1968 [Chapter 5: Artemis, Goddess Of The Hunt]
Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.
Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.
Word Count: 6.6k
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! 🥰
💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜
“So you smoked grass in college,” Aegon says, pondering you with glazed eyes as he slurps his cherry-flavored Mr. Misty. You’re in Biloxi, Mississippi where Aemond is making speeches and meeting with locals to commemorate the first summer of the beaches being desegregated after a decade of peaceful protests and violent white supremacist backlash. Route 90 runs right along the sand dunes. If you walked out of this Dairy Queen, you could look south and see the Gulf of Mexico, placid dark ripples gleaming with moonshine. “And swore, and had a boyfriend, and presumably, what, did shots? Skipped class on occasion?”
“Yeah,” you admit, smiling sheepishly, remembering. You stretch out your fingers. “I chewed gum, I talked during mass. And I loved black nail polish. The nuns would beat my knuckles with rulers, I always had bruises. I wore these flowing skirts down to my ankles and knee-high boots. My hair was a mess, long and blowing around everywhere. My friends and I would do each other’s makeup, silver glitter and purple shadow, pencil on a ridiculous amount of eyeliner and then smudge it out. If you saw a photo you wouldn’t recognize me.”
Aegon takes a drag on his Lucky Strike cigarette, weightless smoke and the tired yellowish haze of florescent lights. Buffalo Springfield’s For What It’s Worth is playing from the Zenith radio on the counter by the cash register. “I’d recognize you.”
“I used to skip this one class all the time. The professor was a demon. I could do the math, but not the way he wanted me to. Right solution, wrong steps, I don’t know. I learned it differently in high school, and I couldn’t figure out the formula he wanted me to use. So he’d mark everything a zero even if my answer was correct. I couldn’t stand that bastard. Then the nuns kept catching me sunbathing on the quad when I was supposed to be in Matrices and Vector Spaces. I racked up so many demerits they were going to revoke my weekend pass, and then I wouldn’t be able to go into the city with my friends. So I stole the demerit book and burned it up on the stove in my dorm. Almost set the whole building on fire.”
Aegon is laughing. “You did not. Not you, not perfect ever-obedient Miss America!”
“I did. I really did.” You sip your own Mr. Misty, lemon-lime. Across the restaurant, Criston and Fosco are eating banana splits—dripping chocolate syrup and melted ice cream all over their table—and passionately debating who is going to end up in the World Series; Criston favors the Cardinals and the Orioles, Fosco says the Red Sox and the Cubs. The rest of the Targaryen family is back at the hotel watching news coverage of the Republican National Convention, something you can only stomach so much of, Otto’s cynical commentary, Aemond’s remaining eye fixed fiercely on the screen as he nips at an Old Fashioned. “I was wild back then.”
“And you gave it all up to be Aemond’s first lady.”
You think back to where it started: palm trees, salt water, alligators in drainage ditches. “My father grew up in a shack outside of Tallahassee. No electricity, no running water, he dropped out of school in eighth grade to help take care of his siblings when his mom died. They moved south to live with their aunt in Tampa, and my father wound up in Tarpon Springs working as a sea sponge diver.”
Aegon’s eyebrows rise, like he thinks you’re teasing him. “Sea sponges…?”
“I’m serious! It paid better than picking oranges or sweeping up in a factory. It’s dangerous. You have to wear this heavy rubber suit and walk around on the ocean floor, sometimes 50 feet or more below the surface.”
“What do people do with sea sponges?”
“Oh right, you would be unfamiliar. You’re supposed to clean yourself with them, like a loofah. Soap? Water? Ringing any bells?”
He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “You’re a very mean person. Aren’t you supposed to be setting an example for the merciful wives and daughters of this great nation?”
“Painters and potters buy sponges too. And some women use them as contraceptives. You can soak them in lemon juice and then shove them up there and it kills sperm.”
“I suddenly have great appreciation for the sea sponge industry. God bless the sea sponges.”
“So my father spent a few years diving, and he fell in love with a girl who worked at one of the shops he sold sponges to. That was my mother. They got married when he had absolutely nothing, and by their fifth anniversary he had his own fleet of boats, a gift shop, and a processing and shipping facility, all of which they owned jointly. They just opened the Spongeorama Sponge Factory this past April, a cute little tourist trap. But my point is that they were partners from the start. My father listens to my mother, and she works alongside him, and it was never like what I’ve seen from my friends’ parents: dad at the office 80 hours a week, mom at home strung out on Valium, just these…deeply separate, cold planets locked in orbit but never touching each other. I knew I didn’t want that. I wanted a husband who was building something I could be a part of. I wanted a man who respected me.”
Aegon watches you as he lights a fresh cigarette, not saying what you imagine he wants to: And how is that working out? He puffs on his Lucky Strike a few times and then offers it to you. You aren’t supposed to smoke, not even tobacco—it’s not ladylike, it’s masculine, it’s subversive—but you take it and hold it between your index and middle fingers, inhaling an ashy bitterness that blood learns to crave. The bracelets on your wrist jangle, thin silver chains that match the diamonds in your ears. Your dress is mint green, your hair in your signature Brigitte Bardot-inspired updo. Aegon is wearing a black t-shirt with The Who stamped across the front. When you pass the cigarette back to him, Aegon asks: “What music did you listen to? The Stones, The Animals?”
“Yeah. And Hendrix, The Kinks, Aretha Franklin…”
“Phil Ochs?”
“I love him. He’s got a song about Mississippi, you know.”
“Oh, I’m aware. It’s one of my favorites.”
“And I’m currently getting a little obsessed with Loretta Lynn. She’s so angry!”
“She’s sanctimonious, that’s what she is. Always bitching about men.”
“Six kids and an alcoholic husband will do that to someone.”
Aegon winces, and then you realize what you’ve said. Loretta Lynn sounds a lot like Mimi. He finishes his Mr. Misty and then fidgets restlessly with his white cardboard cup, spinning it around by the straw. You feel bad, though you shouldn’t. You wouldn’t have a month ago.
“Aegon,” you say gently, and he reluctantly looks up at you, sunburned cheeks, blonde hair shagging over his eyes. “Why do you ignore your children? They’re interesting, they’re fun. Violeta invited me to help her make cakes with her Easy-Bake Oven last week. And Cosmo…he’s so clever. But it’s like he doesn’t know who you are. He might actually think Fosco’s his dad.”
Aegon takes one last drag off his cigarette and discards the end of it in his Mr. Misty cup. Now he’s fiddling with it again, avoiding your gaze. “I don’t have much to offer them.”
“I think you do.”
“No you don’t.”
“I do,” you insist. “You can be kind of nice sometimes.”
He frowns, staring out the window. You know he can’t see anything but darkness and streetlights. “I should have been the one to go to Vietnam. If somebody had to get shot at so Aemond could be president, I was the right choice. No one would miss me. No one would mourn me. Daeron didn’t deserve that. But I was too old, so Otto and my father got him to enlist. Now he’s in the jungle and my mother has nightmares about Western Union telegrams. If I was the son over there, I think she’d sleep easier.”
I’m glad you’re still here, you think. Instead you say: “Your children need you.”
“No they don’t. Between me and Mimi, they’re better off as orphans. Helaena and Fosco can be their parents. Maybe they’ll have a fighting chance.”
The glass door opens, and a man walks into the Dairy Queen with his two sons scampering behind him, all with sandy flip flops and carrying fishing rods. The dad is at least six feet tall and brawny, and wearing a Wallace For President baseball cap. You and Aegon both notice it, then share an amused, disparaging glance. You mouth: Imbecile bigot. The man continues to the cash register and orders two chocolate shakes and a root beer float. At their own table, Criston is mopping up melted ice cream with napkins and telling Fosco to stop being such a pig.
“Me?!” Fosco says. “You are the pig, that spot there is your ice cream, do not blame your failings on poor Fosco. I have already let you drag me to this terrible state and never once complained about the fried food or the mosquitos. And that thing out there is not a real beach. The water is still and brown, brown!”
“For once in your life, pretend you have a work ethic and help me clean up the table.”
“You are being very anti-immigrant right now, do you know that?”
Aegon begins singing, ostensibly to himself. “Here’s to the state of Mississippi, for underneath her borders, the devil draws no lines.”
“Aegon, no,” you whisper, petrified. You know this song. You know where he’s going.
He’s beaming as he continues: “If you drag her muddy rivers, nameless bodies you will find.”
Now the man in the Wallace hat is looking at Aegon. His sons are happily gulping down their chocolate shakes. Criston and Fosco, still bickering, haven’t noticed yet.
“Oh, the fat trees of the forest have hid a thousand crimes.”
“Aegon, don’t,” you plead quietly. “He’ll murder you.”
“The calendar is lyin’ when it reads the present time.”
“Hey,” calls the man in the Wallace For President hat. “You got a problem, boy?”
Aegon drums his palms on the tabletop as he sings, loudly now: “Oh, here’s to the land you’ve torn out the heart of, Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of!”
In seconds, the man has crossed the room, grabbed Aegon by the collar of his t-shirt, yanked him out of his chair and struck him across the face: closed fist, lethal intent, the sick wet sound of bones on flesh. Aegon’s nose gushes, his lip splits open, but he isn’t flinching away, he isn’t afraid. He’s yowling like a rabid animal and clawing, kicking, swinging at the giant who’s ensnared him. You are screaming as you leap to your feet, your chair falling over and clattering on the floor behind you. The man’s sons are hooting joyously. “Git him, Paw!” one of them shouts.
“Criston?!” you shriek, but he and Fosco are already here, tugging at the man’s massive arms and beating on his back, trying to untangle him from Aegon.
“Stop!” Criston roars. “You don’t want to hurt him! He’s a Targaryen!”
“A Targaryen, huh?” the man says as he steps away, wiping the blood from his knuckles on his tattered white t-shirt, stained with fish guts. “All the better. I wish that bullet they put in Aemond woulda been just another inch to the left. Directly through the aorta.”
Aegon lunges at the man again, hissing, fists swinging. Fosco yanks him back.
“Are you gonna call someone or not?!” Criston snaps at the girl behind the cash register, but she only gives him a steely glare in return. This is Wallace country. There’s a reason why it took four years after the Civil Rights Act of 1964 to finally desegregate the beaches.
“We should go,” you tell Criston softly.
“Yes, we will leave now,” Fosco says, hauling Aegon towards the front door. Then, to the cashier: “Thank you for the ice cream, but it was not very good. If you are ever in Italy, try the gelato. You will learn so much.”
“I can’t wait ‘til November,” the man gloats, ominous, threatening. His sons are standing tall and proud beside him. “When Aemond loses, you can all cart your asses back to Europe. We don’t want you here. America ain’t for people like you.”
“It literally is,” you say, unable to stop yourself. “It’s on the Statue of Liberty.”
“Yeah, where do you think your ancestors came from?!” Aegon yells at the man. “Are you a Seminole, pal? I didn’t think so—!” Fosco and Criston lug him through the doorway before more punches can be thrown.
Outside—under stars and streetlights and a full moon—Aegon burst out laughing. This is when he feels alive; this is when the blood in his veins turns to wave and riptides. You didn’t think to grab napkins from the table, so you wipe the blood off his face with your bare hand, assessing the damage. He’ll be fine; swollen and sore, but fine.
“You’re insane, you know that?” you say. “You could have been killed.”
Aegon pats your cheek twice and grins, blood on his teeth. “The world would keep spinning, little Io.” Then he starts walking back towards the White House Hotel.
~~~~~~~~~~
When the four of you arrive at your suite, Aemond, Otto, Ludwika, and Alicent are still gathered around the television. The nannies have taken the children to bed. Helaena is reading The Bell Jar in an armchair in the corner of the room. Mimi is passed out on the couch, several empty glasses on the coffee table. ABC is showing a clip they recorded earlier today of Ludwika travelling with Aemond’s retinue after he made an impassioned speech condemning the lack of recognition of the evils of slavery at Beauvoir, the historic home of former Confederate president Jefferson Davis. The reporter is asking Ludwika what she thinks makes Aemond a better presidential candidate than Eugene McCarthy, as McCarthy shares many of the same policy positions and has an additional 15 years of political experience.
“This McCarthy is not a real man,” Ludwika responds, her face stony and mistrustful. “He reminds me of the communists back in my country. Did you know he met with Che Guevara in New York City a few years ago? Why would he do such a thing?”
Now, Otto turns to her in this hotel room. “I love you.”
Ludwika takes a sip of her martini. “I want another Gucci bag.”
“Yes, yes. Tomorrow, my dear.”
“What happened to you?” Aemond asks his brother, half-exasperated and half-concerned. Criston has fetched a washcloth from the bathroom for Aegon to hold against his bleeding lip and nose. Aemond is still wearing his blue suit from a long day of campaigning, but he’s taken out his eye and put on his eyepatch. His gaze flicks from Aegon’s face to the blood still coating your left hand. On the couch, Mimi’s bare foot twitches but she doesn’t wake up.
“There was a Wallace supporter at the Dairy Queen,” you say. “Aegon felt inspired to defending you.”
Aemond chuckles. “Did you win?” he asks Aegon.
“I would have if the guy wasn’t two of me.”
On the television screen, Richard Nixon is accepting his party’s nomination for president at the Republican National Convention in Miami, Florida.
“He’s a buffoon,” Otto sneers. “So awkward and undignified. Look at him sweating! Look at those ridiculous jowls! And he comes from nothing. His family is trash.”
“Americans love a rags to riches story,” you say. And then, somewhat randomly: “He loves his wife. He proposed to Pat on their very first date, and she said no. So he drove her to dates with other men for years until she finally reconsidered. He said it was love at first sight. He’s never had a mistress. And jowls or no jowls, his family adores him.”
Aegon turns to you, still clutching the washcloth against his face. “Really?”
You nod. “That’s the sort of thing the women talk about.”
There’s a knock at the door. You all look at each other, confounded; no one has ordered room service, no one is expecting any visitors, and the nannies have keys in the event of an emergency. Fosco is closest to the door, so he opens it. A man in uniform is standing there with a golden Western Union telegram in his hands. Alicent screams and collapses. Criston bolts to her.
“It’s okay,” you say. “He’s not dead. Whatever happened, Daeron’s not dead.”
Otto crinkles his brow at you. “How do you know?”
“Because if he was killed, there would be a priest here too.” They always send a priest when the boy is dead. Aegon glances at you, eyes wet and fearful.
“Ma’am,” the soldier—a major you see now, spotting the golden oak leaves—says to Alicent as he removes his cap. “I regret to inform you that your son Daeron was missing in action for several weeks, and we’ve just received confirmation that he’s being held as a prisoner of war in Hỏa Lò Prison.”
“He’s in the Hanoi Hilton?!” Otto exclaims. “Oh, fuck those people and their swamp, how did Kennedy ever think we had something to gain from getting tangled up in that mess?”
“But he’s alive?” Aemond says. “He’s unharmed?”
“Yes sir,” the captain replies. “It is our understanding that he is in good condition. The North Vietnamese are aware that he is a very valuable prisoner, like Admiral McCain’s son John. He’ll be used in negotiations. He is of far more use to them alive than dead.”
“So we can get Daeron back,” Aegon says. “I mean, we have to be able to, right? Aemond’s running for president, he’ll probably win in November, we have millions of dollars, we can spring one man out of some third-world jail, right?”
The captain continues: “Tomorrow when your family returns to New Jersey, the Joint Chiefs of Staff will be there to discuss next steps with you. I’m afraid I’m only authorized to give you the news as it was relayed to me.” He entrusts the telegram to Otto, who rapidly opens it and stares down at the mechanical typewriter words.
“I have to pray,” Alicent says suddenly. “Helaena, will you pray with me? There’s a Greek church down the road. Holy Trinity, I think it’s called.”
Obediently, Helaena joins her mother and follows her to the doorway. Criston leaves with them. Otto gives his new wife a harsh, meaningful stare. Ludwika, an ardent yet covert atheist, sighs irritably. “Wait. I want to pray too,” she says, and vanishes with them into the hall.
As the captain departs, Mimi sits up on the couch, blinking, groggy. “What? What happened?”
“Go with Alicent,” Otto tells her. “She’s headed downstairs.”
“What? Why…?”
“Just go!” he barks.
Mimi staggers to her feet and hobbles out of the hotel room, her sundress—patterned with forget-me-nots—billowing around her. The only people left are Otto, Aemond, Fosco, Aegon, and you. The fact that you are the sole woman permitted to remain here feels intentional.
After a moment, Otto speaks. “You know, John McCain has famously refused to be released from the Hanoi Hilton until all the men imprisoned before him have been freed. He doesn’t want special treatment. And that’s a very noble thing to do, don’t you think? It has endeared him and the McCains to the public.”
Aemond and Otto are looking at each other, communicating in a silent language not of letters or accents but colors: red ambition, green hunger, grey impassionate morality. Fosco is observing them uneasily. Aemond says at last: “Daeron wants to help this family.”
“You’re not going to try to get him out.” Aegon realizes.
Aemond turns to him, businesslike, vague distant sympathy. “It’s only until November.”
“No, you know people!” Aegon explodes. “You pick up the phone, you call in every favor, you get him out of there now! You have no idea if he has another three months, you don’t know what kind of shape he’s in! They could be dislocating his arms or chopping off his fingers right now, they could be starving him, they could be beating him, you can’t just leave him there!”
“It’s not your decision. It could have been, had you accepted your role as the eldest son. But you didn’t. So it’s my job to handle these things. You don’t get to hate me for making choices you were too cowardly too take responsibility for.”
“But Daeron could die,” Aegon says, his voice going brittle.
“Any of us could die. We’re in a very dangerous line of work. Greatness killed Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, Huey Long, Medgar Evers, John F. Kennedy, Malcolm X, Vernon Dahmer, Martin Luther King Jr., does that mean we should all give up the fight? Of course not. The work isn’t finished. We have to keep going.”
“Will you stop pretending this is about America?! This is about you wanting to be president, and everything you’ve ever done has been in pursuit of that trophy, and you keep shoving new people into the line of fire and it’s not right!”
“Aegon,” Otto says calmly. “It’s unlikely we’d be able to get him out before the election anyway. Negotiations take time. But if Aemond wins in November, he’ll be in a very advantageous position. The North Vietnamese aren’t stupid. They wouldn’t kill the brother of a U.S. president. They don’t want their vile little corner of the world flattened by nukes.”
“Still, it feels so wrong to leave a brother in peril,” Fosco says. “It is unnatural. Of course Aegon will be upset. We could at least see what a deal to get Daeron released would entail, maybe his arrival home would be a good headline—”
“And who the fuck asked you?” Otto demands, and Fosco goes quiet.
“Okay, then tell Mom,” Aegon says to Aemond. “Tell her you’re going to pretend Daeron made some self-sacrificial vow not to come home until all the other POWs can too. Tell her you’re going to let him get tortured for a few months before you take this seriously.”
Aemond replies cooly: “Why would you want to upset her? She can’t change it. You’ll only make her suffering worse.”
“What do you think?” Otto asks you, and you know that he isn’t seeking counsel. He’s summoning you like a dog to perform a trick, like an actor to recite a line. He’s waiting for you to say that it’s a smart strategy, because it is. He’s waiting for you to bend to Aemond’s will as your station requires you to, as moons are bound to their planets.
“I think it’s wrong,” you murmur; and Aemond is thunderstruck by your treason.
Without another word, you walk into the bathroom, turn on the sink, and gaze down at Aegon’s blood on your palm. For some reason, it’s very difficult to bring yourself to wash it away.
~~~~~~~~~~
It’s mid-August now, the world painted in goldenrod yellow and sky blue. The Democratic National Convention is in two weeks. You and Aemond are posing on the beach at Asteria, surrounded by an adoring gaggle of journalists who are snapping photographs and jotting down quotes on their notepads. You’re sitting demurely on a sand dune, you’re building sandcastles with the children you borrowed from Aegon and Helaena, you’re flying kites, you’re gazing confidently into the sunlit horizon where a glorious new age is surely dawning.
“Mr. Targaryen, what is it that makes your partnership so successful?” a journalist asks as flashbulbs pulse like lightning. “What do you think is the most crucial characteristic to have in a wife?”
Aemond doesn’t need to consider this before he answers. He always has his compliment picked out. “Loyalty,” your husband says. “Not just to me or to the Targaryen family, but to our shared cause. This year has been indescribably difficult for me and my wife. I announced my candidacy, we embarked on a strenuous national campaign that we’re currently only halfway through, I barely survived a brutal assassination attempt in May, in July we lost our first child to hyaline membrane disease after he was born six weeks prematurely, and at the beginning of this month we learned that my youngest brother Daeron was taken by the North Vietnamese as a prisoner of war. To find the strength not just to get out of bed in the morning, not just to be there for me and this family in our personal lives, but to tirelessly traverse the country with me inspiring Americans to believe in a better future…it’s absolutely remarkable. I’m in awe of her. And when she is the first lady of the United States, she will continue to amaze us all with her unwavering faith and dedication.”
There are whistles and cheers and strobing flashbulbs. You smile—elegant, soft, practiced—as Aemond rests a hand firmly on your waist. You lean into him, feeling out-of-place, bewildered that you’ve ever slept with him, full of dull panic that soon you’ll have to again.
“How about you, Mrs. Targaryen?” another reporter asks. “Same question, essentially. What is the trait that you most admire in your husband?”
And in the cascading clicks of photographs being captured, your mind goes entirely blank. You can think of so many other people—Aegon, Ari, Alicent, Daeron, Fosco, Cosmo—but not Aemond. It’s like you’ve blocked him out somehow, like he’s a sketch you erased. But you can’t hesitate. You can’t let the uncertainty read on your face. You begin speaking without knowing where you’re going, something that is rare for you. “Aemond is the most tenacious person I’ve ever met. When he has a goal in mind, nothing can stop him.” You pause, and there are a few awkward chuckles from the journalists. You swiftly recover. “He never stops learning. He always knows the right thing to do or say. And what he wants more than anything is to serve the American people. Aemond won’t disappoint you. He’s not capable of it. He will do whatever it takes to make this country more prosperous, more peaceful, and more free.”
There are applause and gracious thank yous, but Aemond gives you a look—just for a second, just long enough that you can catch it—that warns you to get it together. Fifteen minutes later, he and the flock of reporters are headed to one of the guest houses to conduct a long-form interview. This will be the bulk of the article; you will appear in one or two photos, you will supply a few quotes. The rest of the story is Aemond. You are an accessory, like a belt or a bracelet. He’s the person who picks you out of a drawer each morning and wears you until you go out of fashion.
Released from your obligations, you return to the main house and disappear into your upstairs bathroom. You are there for fifteen minutes and emerge rattled, routed. You pace aimlessly around your bedroom for a while, then try again; still no luck. You go back outside and stare blankly at the ocean, wondering what you’re going to do. Down on the beach, Fosco is teaching the kids how to yo-yo. Ludwika is sunbathing in a bikini.
“What’s wrong with you?”
You whirl to see Aegon, popping a Valium into his mouth and washing it down with a splash of straight rum from a coffee mug. “Huh? Nothing. I’m great.”
“No, something’s wrong. You look lost. You look like me.”
You gaze out over the ocean again, chewing your lower lip.
Aegon snickers, fascinated, sensing a scandal. “What did you do?”
Your eyes drift to him. “You can’t make fun of me.”
“Okay. I won’t.”
There is a long, heavy lull before you answer. When you speak, it’s all in a rush, like you can’t unburden yourself of the words fast enough. “I put a tampon in and I can’t get it out.”
Aegon immediately breaks his promise and cackles. “You did what?!” Then he tries to be serious. “Wait. Sorry. Uh, really?”
You’re on the verge of tears. “I’ve been bleeding since I had the baby, and I hate using tampons, I almost never do, but Aemond wanted me to wear this dress for the photoshoot and it’s super gauzy and from certain angles I felt like I could see the pad bulge when I checked in the mirror, so I put a tampon in for the first time in probably a year. I’m not even supposed to be using them for another few weeks because my uterus isn’t healed all the way or whatever. And now I can’t get it out and it’s been in there for like six hours and I’m scared I’m going to get an infection and die in the most pointless, humiliating way imaginable.”
“Okay, calm down, calm down,” Aegon says. “There’s no string?”
“No, I’ve checked multiple times. It must be a defective one and they forgot to put a string in it at the factory and I didn’t notice, or the string somehow got tucked under it, I don’t know, but I can’t get it out, it’s like…the angle isn’t right. I can just barely feel it with my fingertips, but I can’t grab it. I’m going to have to go to the hospital to get it taken out, but I’m scared word will spread and journalists will show up to get photos when I leave and then everyone will be asking me why I was at the emergency room to begin with and I’m going to have to make up something and…and…” You can’t talk anymore. There are other reasons why you don’t want to go to the hospital. You haven’t stepped foot in one since Ari died; the thought makes you feel like you are looking down to see blood on your thighs all over again, like you’ll never have enough air in your lungs.
“Did you bleed through it? Because that should help it slide out easier.”
“I don’t know,” you moan miserably. “I mean, I guess I did, because there was blood when I checked a few minutes ago. I had to stuff my underwear with toilet paper.”
“Why didn’t you just tell Aemond you couldn’t wear this dress?”
You give him an impatient glance. “I’m tired of having the same conversation.” When do you think you’ll be done bleeding? When do you think it’ll be time to start trying again?
Aegon sighs. “Do you want me to get it out for you?”
“Please stop. I’m really panicking here.”
“I’m not joking.”
You stare at him. “You can’t be serious.”
“I have fished many objects out of many orifices, you cannot shock me. I am unshockable.”
“I’d rather walk down to the sand right now and strangle myself with Fosco’s yo-yo.”
“Okay. So who are you gonna ask to drive you to the hospital?”
You hesitate.
“I’d offer to do it,” Aegon says, grinning, holding up his mug. “But I’m in no condition to drive.”
“But you are in the proper condition to extract a rogue tampon, huh?”
“Two minutes tops. That’s a guarantee. My personal best is fifteen seconds. And that was for a lost condom, much trickier to locate than a tampon.”
Perhaps paradoxically, the more you consider his offer, the more tempting it seems. No complicated trip and cover story? Over in just a few minutes? “If you ever tell anyone about this, I will never forgive you. I will hate you forever.”
Aegon taunts: “I thought you already hated me.”
You aren’t sure what you feel for him, but it’s certainly not hate. Not anymore. “Where would we do it?”
“In my office. And by that I mean my basement.”
“Your filthy, disease-ridden basement? On your shag carpet full of crabs?”
“You’re in luck,” he jokes. “My crab exterminator service just came by yesterday.”
You exhale in a low, despairing groan.
“Hey, would you rather do it on the dining room table? I’m game. Your choice.”
You watch the seagulls swooping in the afternoon air, the banners of sailboats on the glittering water. “Okay. The basement.”
You walk with Aegon to the house and—after ensuring that no one is around to notice—sneak with him down the creaking basement steps, the door locked behind you. Aegon is darting around; he sets a small trashcan by the carpet and tosses you two towels, then goes to wash his hands in his tiny bathroom, not nearly enough room for someone to stretch out across the linoleum floor.
You’re surveying the scene nervously. “I don’t want to get blood all over your stuff.”
“You’re the cleanest thing that’s ever been on that carpet. Lie down.”
You place one towel on the green shag carpet, then whisk off your panties, discard the bloody knot of toilet paper in the trashcan, and pull the skirt of your dress up around your waist so it’s out of the way. Then you sit down and drape the second towel over your thighs so you’re hidden from him, like you’re about to be examined by a doctor. Your heart is thumping, but you don’t exactly feel like you want to stop. It’s more exhilarating than fear, you think; it is forbidden, it is shameful, it is a microscopic betrayal of Aemond that he’ll never know about.
Aegon moseys out of the bathroom, flicking drops of water from his hands. He wears one of his usual counterculture uniforms: a frayed green army jacket with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, khaki shorts, tan moccasins. He kicks them off before he kneels on the shag carpet. He checks the clock on the wall. “2:07. I promised two minutes max. Let’s see how I do. Ready?”
You rest the back of your head on your linked hands, raise your knees, take a deep and unsteady breath. “Ready.”
But he can see that you’re shaking. “Hey,” Aegon says kindly, pressing his hand down on the towel so you’re covered. “Do you want me to go to the hospital with you? I’ll try to distract people. I’ll pretend I’m having a seizure or something.”
“No, I’m okay,” you insist. “I just want it out. I want this over with.”
“Got it.” And then he begins. He stares at the wall to his left, not looking at you, navigating by feel. You feel the pressure of two fingers, a stretching that is not entirely unpleasant. He’s warm and careful, strangely unobtrusive. Still, you suck in a breath and shift on the carpet. “Shh, shh, shh,” Aegon whispers, skimming his other hand up and down the inside of your thigh, and shiver like you’ve never felt before rolls backwards up the length of your spine. “Relax. You alright?”
“Fine. Totally fine.”
“Oh yeah, it’s definitely in there,” Aegon says. His brow is creased with comprehension. “No string…you’re right, it must either be tangled up somehow or it never had one to begin with. Maybe you accidentally inserted it upside down.”
“Now you insult my intelligence. As if I’m not embarrassed enough.”
“I should have put on a record to set the mood. What gets you going, Marvin Gaye? Elvis?”
“The seductive voice of Richard Milhous Nixon. Maybe you can get him on the phone.”
Aegon laughs hysterically. His fingertips push the tampon against your cervix and you yelp. “Sorry, sorry, my mistake,” Aegon says. There are beads of sweat on his forehead, on his temples; now his eyes are squeezed shut. “I’m gonna try to wiggle it out…”
As he works, there are sensations you can’t quite explain: a very slow-building indistinct desire, a loosening, a readying, a drop in your belly when you think about the fact that he’s the one touching you. Then he happens to press in just the right spot and there is a sudden pang of real pleasure—craving, aching, a deep red flare of previously unfathomable temptation—and you instinctively reach for him. You hand meets his forearm, and for the first time since he started Aegon looks at your face, alarmed, afraid that he’s hurt you again. But once your eyes meet you’re both trapped there, and you can’t pretend you’re not, his fingers still inside you, his pulse racing, a rivulet of sweat snaking down the side of his face, his eyes an opaque murky blue like water you’re desperate to claw your way into. You know what you want to tell him, but the words are impossible. Don’t stop. Come closer.
Aegon clears his throat, forces himself to look away, and at last dislodges the tampon. It appears dark and bloody in his grasp. “No string,” he confirms, holding it up and turning it so you can see. “Factory reject.”
“Just like you.”
He glances at the clock. “2:09. I delivered precisely what was promised.” He chucks the tampon into the trashcan and then grins as he helps pull you upright with his clean hand. “So do you like to cuddle afterwards, or…?”
You’re giggling, covering your flushed face. “Shut up.”
“Personally, I enjoy being ridden into the ground and then called a good boy.”
“Go away.” You nod to where he disposed of the tampon and say before stopping to think: “You’re not going to keep that under your ashtray too?”
Aegon freezes and blinks at you. He smiles slowly, cautiously. “No, I think that would be a little unorthodox, even for me.” He pitches you a clean washcloth from the bathroom closet. “That should get you upstairs.”
“Thanks.” You shove it between your legs and rise to your feet, smoothing the skirt of your dress. “I owe you something. I’m not sure what, but I’ll figure it out.”
“Hey,” Aegon says, and waits for you to turn to him. “Maybe I’m not that bad.”
“Maybe,” you agree thoughtfully.
Just before you hurry upstairs, you steal a glimpse of Aegon in the bathroom, the door kicked only half-closed. He has turned on the water, but he’s not using it yet. Aegon is staring down at the blood on his hand, half-dried scarlet impermanent ink.
~~~~~~~~~~
Hi, it’s me again. I’m in solitary confinement. There’s a guy in the cell next to mine; we talk to each other with a modified version of Morse code. Tap tap tap on the wall, he taps back, etcetera etcetera, you get the idea. You’re not going to believe this, but he says his name is John McCain. Well, actually, he told me his name is Jobm McCbin, but I think that’s because I translated the taps wrong. I might be in the Hanoi Hilton, but at least they have me in the VIP section! Hahaha.
Every few hours the guards show up to do a very impressive magic trick: they wave their batons like wands, I turn black and blue. Sometimes one of my teeth even disappears. Isn’t that something? Houdini would love it. There’s a rat that I’m making friends with. I give her nibbles of my stale bread, she gives me someone to talk to. She’s good company. I’ve named her Tessarion.
Allow me to make something absolutely fucking clear.
I would very much like to be rescued.
#aegon ii targaryen#aegon targaryen#aegon targaryen ii#aegon ii#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon x reader#aegon x y/n#aegon x you#aegon ii x y/n#aegon ii x reader#aegon ii x you#aegon targaryen x you
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A fic rec of One Direction fics in which a character had experienced abuse of some form in the past as requested in this ask. Please don't forget to leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here.
- Louis/Harry -
🧱 Run Like the Devil by benzos
(E, 143k, Supernatural au) Louis hunts demons; Harry's the strangest demon he's ever met, and he keeps fucking meeting him.
🧱 Saving Symphony Hall by @helloamhere
(E, 124k, omegaverse) “That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”
🧱 Hang there like fruit, my soul/Till the tree die by louloubaby92 / @louloubabys1992
(M, 111k, omegaverse) Louis knows he's a defective omega. He knows its also not his fault but it is what it is. He takes the world head on even when the world is unkind to him.
🧱 Give Me Truths by iwillpaintasongforlou / @canonlarry
(E, 110k, punk Louis) the one in which Louis falls in love with a fragile boy and tells him every beautiful truth in the world, as long as it makes him happy.
🧱 The Naked Truth by @larrysmomfics
(E, 80k, Naked Attraction au) The producers of Naked Attraction decide to do a 'Second Chances' edition of the show where past contestants who didn't find love on the show the first time can re-apply in hopes that the second time's a charm.
🧱 Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds
(NR, 88k, historical) 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.
🧱 Shout It From The Rooftops by therogueskimo / @bravetemptation
(M, 70k, PTSD) Plagued by memories of the worst day of his life, Louis Tomlinson feels like he’s constantly living in darkness. Harry Styles might just be the person to bring him back to the light.
🧱 These High Walls by LarryAlways28
(E, 68k, omegaverse) Born to one of Seattle's wealthiest families, Harry was raised exactly as a Styles heir should be: sharp as a tack, witty, charming, and powerful. He was the ideal son - until he presented as an Omega.
🧱 you're ripped at every edge, but you're a masterpiece by Valentia
(E, 50k, uni) The one where Harry is soft and pretty but doesn't see it and Louis just wants to love him the way he deserves.
🧱 elephant juice by @stylinsoncity
(M, 32k, uni) harry doesn't understand boundaries. louis doesn't mind at all.
🧱 With These Arms Folded by @taggiecb
(NR, 21k, famous/not famous) Harry Styles is living a peaceful existence in California as a very successful songwriter. That is until he receives a curious email one sunny summer morning, and his life almost immediately gets turned upside down buy a force that's bigger than any storm he's seen outside his window.
🧱 why take your life when you give it so willingly by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed
(M, 19k, pirates) When Louis Tomlinson, Captain of The Rogue, ends up adrift at sea after Captain Cowell attacks his ship, he is surprised to find his enemy, Captain Styles, coming to his rescue.
🧱 vatican cameos by nightwideopen / @themarshalstale
(T, 14k, asexuality) sometimes louis gets sad and sometimes harry lets louis write on him
🧱 Just a touch of your love by @thegirlontheblackhoodie
(E, 12k, omegaverse) Harry is a touch starved omega trying to get through it on his own. Louis happens to be the only alpha around to realize it and offers to help.
🧱 You've Got A New Life (Am I Bothering you?) by LilyBlue28
(NR, 5k, omegaverse) the one where Louis is an omega who suffers from PTSD and is triggered one day. He doesn't know how to ask for help from his doting alpha, doesn't think he deserves it, and tries to handle it on his own.
🧱 I Don't Wanna Hurt Anymore by offwiththeirheads / @hazzabooween
(M, 5k, kidfic) Harry walks a thin line between breaking his best friend’s heart and fighting a losing battle.
- Rare Pairs -
🧱 Sugar, We're Going Down by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships
(E, 131k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) At 37, Nick has everything he could possibly want in life: huge success in business, a Bachelor of the Year award hanging in his toilet, piles of money, and a rather odd little habit of visiting a cafe with terrible service on his way into the office every morning.
🧱 It's You by happily_missy
(E, 56k, Zayn/Liam) Liam is a PA for a famous fashion designer and Zayn is their gorgeous new model.
#ficrec#1dficvillage#pastabuse#trackinghappily#trackinghome#tracksintheam#hlcreators#hljournal#1dsource#larry fanfiction#ziam fanfiction#tomlinshaw fanfction#weeklyficrec
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CANDYYY!! Congratulations on 2k followers!! You deserve every single one of them!! 💕💕
I saw the build your own fanfic adventure and you know I have to get in on this soooooooo:
Character: Dabi (what a surprise there 😂)
AU setting: Honestly I'm so stuck between Gothic Mansion and Monster Forest, I'll let you decide!!
Spice level: screw it let's go all the way, NSFW bb
Mood: I'll leave it up to you! You know me, I could go either way!
Kink: ugh I'll indulge a little today, Breeding/Daddy kink (sometimes I like being taken care of, you know?? 😂😂)
Have fun my love! 😘 Can't wait to read Choso's chapter!!
Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Dabi as a werewolf. Dabi as a vampire. Light vampire-related blood. Rough sex. Breeding. Oral sex. Heavily inspired by the 1988 horror film “Waxwork”.
This ended up a lot longer than I planned but I hope you like it, babe!
Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! Any feedback is loved! Dividers by @benkeibear.
You’ve always loved wax museums, so when a new one opened up in town, you just had to visit on opening day. You walk through the doors, noting sadly that there isn’t a very big crowd. After looking through the “historical figures” and “celebrities” sections, you wander into the “fictional characters” area.
There are highly detailed wax figures lovingly made to recreate various famous scenes from novels and movies. A large portion of them are horror, and so you feel a chill down your spine as you notice you’re the only visitor in this section.
Some of the wax figures look so realistic, you find yourself staring at them to make sure they’re not moving. You walk around, looking at the displays, before stopping at one that fascinates you.
The scene looks like the interior of a cabin in the woods. There are even fake trees outside the windows. The “room” is lit by a fireplace. Near the door, there’s a young man bent backwards in what appears to be agony, in the midst of a transformation. He has messy white hair, and half his body is covered in white fur, giving the illusion that the fur is spreading. His dark clothes are ripped, and he’s clutching his head with his hands, one of them tipped with razor sharp claws. His eyes, so bright blue that they seem to glow, are staring upwards. You imagine he’s staring at a full moon.
Also in the display is a young woman in a ragged dress, recoiling from him in horror. Strangely, she resembles you. Her build is the same as yours, as well as her hair. But with her face so twisted by fear, you can’t really tell if that resembles yours too.
Your eyes keep being drawn back to the man, to the fine white fur that looks like crushed velvet. You want to touch it, to feel it beneath your fingertips. And his eyes… so beautiful.
Wait… did his eyes just move? For a fraction of a second, you thought his eyes flicked down to your face. But surely you imagined it. You laugh nervously, deciding you’ve been looking at this display for too long.
You move quickly to the next display, this one looking like the ornate dining room of a gothic castle. Sitting at the table in a beautiful Victorian style dress is a young woman who looks almost identical to the one from the previous display. Which means she looks just like you. Her hair is pinned up in an intricate style, and her dress is way too immodest to be historically accurate. It’s an off the shoulder design that is extremely low cut, exposing way more cleavage than was probably common in the Victorian era.
The young woman is holding a steak knife in her hand, and has apparently cut her finger on it by accident, as a shiny drop of red “blood” is made to look as if it’s dripping down her hand. But the most interesting part of this display is the man standing behind her, like a predator.
You draw in a sharp breath as you look at him, realizing with a tinge of alarm that he’s the same as the man from the werewolf display, with slight differences. This one has black hair, and is wearing a black Victorian suit with a cape. He also has scars covering the lower half of his face. But those eyes… those lovely blue eyes… they’re the same. There’s a look of hunger in them as he leans over the woman, staring at the drop of blood. You look at the blood too, trying to imagine why he finds it so compelling.
Oh, he must be a vampire! You almost laugh at yourself for being so slow to realize it. You casually glance back up at his face, and your breath catches in your throat.
He’s looking straight at you. Not at the drop of blood, but at you.
Your heart pounds furiously as you stare at him, locked in his gaze. This time you’re certain. His eyes moved! You know for a fact he was looking at the woman’s hand before! So why is he looking into your eyes now?
This must be some kind of trick or gimmick, you tell yourself, trying to calm down. Maybe the wax figure has some sort of mechanized feature that makes his eyes move, as a way to excite the visitors. Or, judging by how realistic he looks, maybe he’s an actor! The possibility makes you feel quite silly.
You back away, suddenly eager to leave this section of the museum, but your back collides with something and your body bounces forward, causing you to stumble over the velvet rope cordoning off the display and fall directly into it. You close your eyes and brace for the impact of the floor, but instead you black out.
When your eyes snap open, you’re sitting at the fancy table in the dining room. There’s a plate of delicious looking food in front of you and a steak knife in your hand. A single drop of blood is sliding down your index finger. You look in front of you, where the rope should be, but it’s not there. In fact, the rest of the museum is gone! You really are in a complete dining room!
All at once you remember the other occupant of the room, and you slowly turn your head to look over your shoulder. Leaning over you is the very beautiful, very alive, vampire with the black hair and the scars.
“Did you cut yourself? Are you okay?” he asks. You expected his voice to be more smooth and formal, given his attire, but he sounds like any random guy you go to college with.
You’re not sure what to say, wondering if this is a dream or not. Did you hit your head when you fell?
The man grabs your hand, firmly but not harshly, and pulls it up to his face to examine it. “Looks like a small cut,” he says, then wraps his scarred lips around your finger, his tongue lapping gently at the blood.
You’re so transfixed that you don’t think to pull your hand away until he’s finished. His eyes move over you, and you’re suddenly very aware of how obscenely low cut your dress is. You stand up from the table and look around, still hoping to see the rest of the museum somewhere. But it’s just not there.
“Not running off, are you?” the man asks, a hint of a grin on his face. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone for dinner.” His tongue runs over his lips as he says it, making your face flush with heat.
“Um, I’m not really sure where I am,” you say, your back against the edge of the table.
He steps closer to you. “You’re in my home, doll, and we’re about to have dessert.”
You feel paralyzed as he gets closer and closer, until his body is pressed against yours. He’s taller than you, probably a little older, but he’s fucking gorgeous.
Maybe this is a dream. Maybe it’s a concussion-induced hallucination. But whatever it is, you might as well enjoy it.
You reach up and wrap your arms around him as he lifts you up and sits you on the table, the plates and silverware magically gone. His mouth is on your neck, licking along a vein before you feel a sharp pain. He’s biting you! The pain is intense for a few moments, and then disappears, replaced by a feeling of euphoria. You can feel his teeth tearing at your delicate skin, can feel his tongue gliding along the wound, but it doesn’t hurt at all now. You only feel warm and aroused, listening to the sensual sucking sounds as he devours your blood.
He lies you back on the table and pulls away from your neck. His mouth is sticky and red. He pulls the top of your dress down, freeing your breasts, and then his hands and mouth are upon them, squeezing and licking.
You moan, clutching his shoulders, opening your legs ever wider as his body presses to you. Eventually he reaches down and rips the skirt of your dress right up the middle, clearing himself a path to your panties and exposing your white garter belt and stockings. He tears the panties away and bends down, running his tongue along your heated, damp flesh. You arch your back, ridiculously turned on by the idea of a vampire eating you out. His tongue, still wet with your blood, circles your clit, driving you to madness.
When you’re right on the edge of climax, he stops and pulls away, opening his pants to the sounds of your panting. “Gonna be a good girl for me?” he asks, sliding his hand up and down his hard, pleasingly large shaft.
“Yes! I’ll be so good!” you breathe out, locking your legs around his body, pulling him closer.
He grins as he shoves himself into you, licking your blood from his lips. His thrusts are deep, intimate, and hit your sweet spot just perfectly. “Ahh… feels so good…” you cry.
You want to moan his name, but you have no idea what it is.
“That’s it,” he says with a grunt, thrusting deeper, “taking me so well!”
Fuck it. Just go with the vibes.
“Harder, Daddy!”
He looks down at you, momentarily surprised, but then he laughs and fucks you harder than you’ve ever been fucked before.
You were already on the edge of cumming, and now you’re pushed over the edge by the way his tip hits your cervix, making you bounce off the table. You cum while clenching his cock.
Just before he releases his seed inside you, painting your womb in his color, he leans forward and bites your neck again. There’s that brief searing pain again, contrasting so deliciously with the pleasure rippling through you as his cock pulses in your body.
He pulls away, licking his lips again and pulling you up to your feet by your hand, like a gentleman. You’re in a daze as he leads you to the door of the room. “Thanks, doll. I haven’t had any visitors in a long time. Hopefully I’ll see you in the next one.”
“Next one?” you ask, confused as you walk through the door.
You find yourself back in the museum, standing in front of the vampire display. But it looks different now. The woman sitting at the table doesn’t look like you anymore, instead having plain, almost blank features. And the man, the vampire, is standing up straight, looking right at you, a subtle grin on his bloody lips.
Startled, you step back and touch your hand to your neck. You can feel the puncture wounds, the slick blood trickling out.
Was… was that real?
Somewhat delirious, you stagger away, and end up stumbling right into another display. This time you blink and you’re in the cabin in the woods. You’re the girl in the torn dress, cowering in fear of the white haired man who is turning into a werewolf before your very eyes.
He looks at you through his agony as his body transforms, and you can see the recognition in his eyes.
“Oh fuck, not this one!” he says, trying to move away from you. “Run! Get… to the edge… of the forest! Hurry!”
“What’s happening!?” you scream. “How did I even get here?”
“It’s the museum!” he shouts, clutching his head in pain. “Listen, you have to run! I can’t… control this form! I go fucking feral!”
You stand there, frozen, watching the soft white fur spread across his lean body, the claws on his hands get longer, the teeth in his much wider mouth become large and sharp. Two white furry ears even grow out of the top of his head.
“Feral, you say?” The question rolls off your tongue. Watching him writhe in pain as his body changes is… actually kind of hot.
He looks at you, blue eyes wild, and he seems to understand what you want. The transformation is complete. He stands before you much taller than before, covered head to toe in that lovely white fur. There’s a primal feel to the way he looks at you. Animalistic. Predatory.
Either he’s going to rip you apart or fuck your brains out. You really really hope it’s the latter.
He lunges forward and tackles you to the floor, pushing you face down onto the rug in front of the fireplace. His movements are fast and aggressive, but not too rough. He easily could have killed you already.
With one swipe of his powerful claws, your dress is in tatters, barely clinging to your body in tiny strips that cover nothing. Behind you, he lifts your hips and spreads your thighs, and almost immediately plunges into your slick pussy.
You cry out, gripping the rug in your hands as he begins fucking into you, your bare chest and stomach rubbing against the rug with each thrust. Ah, his cock feels incredible! It’s long and hard, covered in a thin layer of soft velvety fur. As he takes you from behind, he uses one hand to lightly scrape his claws down your back.
“Oh god!” you scream out when one clawed hand reaches around and finds your clit, rubbing and pinching it, making your body tremble. You don’t have to tell him to fuck you harder. You don’t think he possibly could. Your knees are wobbling, barely supporting you, your face is pressed into the rug, your tears seeping into it. You’ve never felt this good in your entire life.
You feel him twitching inside you, and just as you feel his scalding hot cum shoot directly into your womb, you feel your own orgasm wash over you. Moaning and panting, you stay there on the rug, your face buried in it, until he eventually pulls out. By the time you have the energy to roll over and look at him, he’s reverted back to human form.
He’s standing there naked, his white hair damp and hanging in his eyes. He drops down onto the rug beside you, and you scoot closer to him, pulling your knees up to your chest.
“What is this place?” you ask him. “Is this really still the museum?”
The fireplace is roaring behind you, and you can hear the wind blowing through the trees outside the cabin.
“I think every display is its own pocket dimension,” he says. “But fuck if I know how it all works.”
You look at him intently. “Who are you?”
He shrugs. “Just a guy who got stuck here. I came to the museum with some friends a few years ago, stumbled into one of the displays, and got stuck. I stayed inside too long, so now I can’t leave.”
“Why not?” you ask.
“When I finally found the border, the way back to the museum, I stuck one arm out and it instantly turned to wax. As long as I stay in the displays, I’m flesh and blood. But I can move my consciousness around the different dimensions.”
You suddenly feel panicked. “What about me?”
He grins. “You’ll be fine. You haven’t been here nearly long enough. Certain rare people get pulled in, and I always lead them out.”
You meet his gaze for a few moments, then say, “I’ll come back! I’ll visit you as often as I can!”
He gives you a somewhat sad smile. “The museum moves around to different towns. We probably won’t be here for longer than a year.”
“Then I’ll track it down!” you say forcefully, causing him to blink in surprise. “Wherever you go, I’ll find you!”
“I hope so,” he says, then he stands up and heads for the door, opening it. He tosses a blanket to you to cover yourself with and says, “You better get going. Head to the edge of the forest and you’ll be back in the museum.”
You wrap the blanket around yourself as you walk through the door. You stop and look back at him. “What’s your name?”
He smiles. “Touya.”
Minutes later, you’re back in the museum, standing in front of the werewolf display. The man who was once bent back in pain is standing calmly in the cabin now, looking at you without moving. You wave to him before turning to leave. “See you later, Touya!”
#dabi x reader#dabi#touya todoroki#todoroki touya#touya x reader#bnha x reader#dabi smut#dabi x you#x reader#candys2kevent
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treasure: seven.
synopsis: when y/n gets whooshed into an alternate universe, an adventure: one with pirates and monsters and much, much more
pairing: ot8! pirate ateez x fem! reader
genre: pirate au!!
!!warnings(per chapter)!! - [bellow cut!] poison, blood, knifes/daggers, guns, stitches, stabbing,kissing + implied smut
notes: ooooh!! again finally an update!! i tried to make it longer this time so i hope you enjoy and i'm sorry to say that next chapter will also be the last chapter 😭 dw though!! there's still things in the works for this book 👀👀
word count: 5.1K
taglist: (if you want removed or added to the list please lmk)
@toxic-babexe , @sunnyhokyu , @cambriel , @lelaleleb , @acescavern , @meowmeeps
if if missed anyone again just let me know!
series masterlist | main masterlist
previous chapter | next chapter
previously:
You sit yourself in the quiet and peaceful for a bit looking up at the stars.. Occasionally looking at the darkness of the ocean below from your viewpoint.
You hear the crunching of the ground in the distance
“Sorry I kept you y/n.. I’m back” he says and sits beside you again.
…
Meanwhile back in camp dinner is ready, seonghwa tells wooyoung to go get both you and yunho so he goes to yunho's tent.. He's not there and he visits yours. You of course are also not there.. hmm
He returns to where everyone is sat around a mini fire and explains to seonghwa
“Hwa.. yun and y/n.. they're not here” he tells the elder.
Seonghwa with a slight frown begins “what do you mean they're not-”
Before he can even finish that sentence, Yunho's bursting through the clearing, panting heavily. He's covered in muck and is bleeding from his forehead
“He got her.. Ha.. he got her” he says between pants trying to catch his breath.
“Who?”
He looks hongjoong right in the eye
He takes a shaky breath
“The other me”
…
“Sorry I kept you y/n.. I’m back” he says and sits beside you again.
“Took you long enough” you laugh and turn to look at him
Yunho’s already looking at you. there’s something strange about him, he drapes the blanket over your shoulders and you pull it tighter to yourself, thanking him.
You sort of glance at his hands and you notice his knuckles are kinda busted and bloody..
You ask him about it to which he brushes it off as ‘nothing to worry about’ that should’ve been your first red flag..
Brushing it off though you take the telescope looking through it looking at the stars
“Hey yun.. What's that star there??” you ask
“Hmm? Let me see” and he takes the telescope from you
“A-aah that one? Hmm, isn't that the north star?” he says only you know that's not the star at all.. Alarm bells go off in your head as you quickly stand
“Shouldn't we be getting back? I-i'm sure Hwa’s finished making the supper” yunho stands as you say this, your nerves clearly showing
“What? But y/n.. Don’t you wanna watch the stars with me?” he asks but when you only continue to walk backwards he sighs and bends down picking up his hat? And placing it on
“You.. you’re not yunho” you speak.
“But I am,” he replies, walking closer to you. You shake your head in disapproval.
“Not my Yunho” your back hits a tree behind you.
He laughs, finally reaching you, placing his hand next to your head on the tree.
“We'll, aren't you a smart one? Hmm?” He smiles sickly. “Don’t worry, this won’t hurt a bit.. The poison might though” he says. And before you know it he’s stabbing your side with a small blade, your hands fly to your side, blood staining everything. “W-why?” your voice is small, you suddenly feel dizzy, your head falling into his chest, before your legs are giving way and you fall to the ground and the last thing you see before your vision going black is him towering over you, a smile on his face.
…
“AND YOU LEFT HER ALONE!!??”
“Joong.. Don't shout at him..” seonghwa tries to calm him down
“Do you think for a moment that if I knew they were here too that I'd leave her by herself!!?? I didn't know hongjoong!!'' Yunho tries to also calm the captain down yet at the same time argues back..
sprinting to the cliff area where they hope you're still there.. But they're not so lucky once they come to the clearing at the cliff.
Suddenly the peacefulness of the overlook is shattered with yells of your name. Each pirate screaming your name hoping for an answer or something, anything to know you're okay.
Luck again isn't so lucky…
There's a gasp..
“Captain!!”
Everyone turns to face wooyoung and their hearts drop, he stands there holding a dagger with blood staining the blade.. It's fresh.
“Fuck”
…
Slowly your eyes blink open.. You hiss due to the sudden light, you try to sit up but the sharp pain in your side stops you from doing so, your hands shooting to hold the area.
There's a chuckle.
“Careful there.. Don't sit up yet stupid, you got a nasty stab wound ‘ere plus i doubt the poisoning is any better” you hear the faint scratching of quill on parchment
Your eyes drift around the room until they land on the familiar figure sitting on the seat just a little ways from the bed you lay on.
“H-hongjoong?” you ask
He chuckles again and looks up from what he’s doing.
“Yes, precious? How’re you feelin? D’you need me to go get San, actually i will, he should give you a once over just to be sure” he says standing from his chair. Stretching his limbs with a pop. beginning to make his way to the door.
Slowly your memories of the pas incident come back to you all at once
“Y-yunho.. He stabbed me..” you say in disbelief.
He stops.
“Yeah, he did precious” he looks at you “i’ll explain it to you once san checks over you.. You've been knocked out for 3 days” he says whilst also telling you he'll be back soon.
San checks over you whist hongjoong observes quietly.
“so ?” he asks once san begins to pack his med-utensils away.
“She should be fine.. Just a little groggy and maybe a little out of it whilst the last effects of the poison gets out of her system and then of course pain where the stab wound is as it heals but for now it seems to be healin’ well, stitches are doing their job” he says and gives you a small smile.
Hongjoong seems to sigh from relief.
“Good, thank you san, you may go.” he said and said male exited the room.
He pulls up a chair to sit in front of you.
“So.. d’you think you're ready to know what happened and why?” he asks
You look into his eye
“You’re gonna have to tell me so I'm not afraid of yunho”. You say.
He nods his head slowly. “Very well”
“It may be a lot to take in but you need to know the truth.. No more secrets..
The yunho who stabbed you looks identical to our yunho right? That's because he is. Each of us, Seonghwa, yeosang. San, mingi, woo and jongho and I included all have someone who's more so an identical copy even you.. Only those imposters aren't from this world precious.. They're from another universe much much different from this one, they call themselves halateez. their leader; the other me. He’s psychotic. He was madly in love with the you in that universe, you were his everything. He’d do anything for you or her sorry.. But the creatures that roamed that earth took her from him. And love? He’ll do just about anything to get you-her back. That's why i.. that we need the cromer device to send them back to that universe. Only when we were saving you from the trap they set.. They stole our map straight to the location of the cromer and we need that back before they try to steal you away from us.” he says and you try your best to take it all in
“wait wait- so let me get this straight. another version of you from a whole other dimension is trying to practically kidnap me and take me back to his dimension because the other me whom he was in love with or dating died??”
“Pretty much love… yes.” he says. Taking your hand in his and gently rubbing the skin.
You sigh out. “ and you didn't think to tell me this when i saw that creepy you in his creepy outfit that day in that town!!?” you see his eye slightly twitch
“I didn't think it was necessary love.. We had the map. Wasn't expecting you to get stabbed and for the map to be stolen.” he says.
“We need it back.. But do you think you're able to come with us to steal it back?? We need to distract their captain somehow” he adds with a smirk on his face.
You nod. “I’ll do it”
He smiles standing.
“Good. we leave at nightfall”
…
The forest is quiet.. Maybe a bit too quiet as you make your way towards the camp where the other crew takes refuge.
Hongjoong raises his hand once you get to a small overlook everyone stops in their tracks.
Getting low to the ground to avoid being spotted he motions you over. You get into the same position. His hand resting on your lower back.
He points to one of the larger tents. “That one’s the captain's tent. You should find the map in there somewhere. We’ll be keeping watch from up here and if we see them coming back we’ll give a signal or i’ll come get you precious don't worry” he says seeing the worried look on your face. “I'll walk you close enough before returning here, okay. Plan. go!” he says and everyone gets in their positions. And you walk beside hongjoong through the trees down the slope a little ways.
“This is where I leave you precious,” he says as you nod your head at him.
“I’ll get your map back don’t worry joong” and you begin to walk away.
He quietly gasps air getting stuck in his throat as you walk away
“please .. please be safe.” he says with desperation in his voice.
You eventually get to the edge of the forest before the camp, you eye your surroundings.. No ones there and it's quiet.. Again.. Too quiet. It's just a straight beeline towards the tent but it seems too easy. You walk slowly but quickly and you reach the opening of the tent. Turning back you look up to the overpass and see them watching intently hongjoong lifting his hand to give you a thumbs up as the go ahead.
You peep into the tent slightly.. Empty.. Thank god. Taking a deep breath you enter.. The fabric flaps falling shut behind you.
The tent is dimly lit by lanterns, a makeshift table in the centre and crates and chests all around areas of the tent. You let out a deep breath, hopefully it won't be too difficult to find the map, and so you begin your search.
You go through papers, books and parchments anywhere where you think the map could be hidden or being kept.
You're going through a chest shifting through the contents and you stumble across a tube with a symbol of an A in a red circle and a drawing of an.. hourglass?? That must be it!
turning the tube you see very faint markings of what seems to be cromer written on the tube. You stuff the map inside your little pouch bag.
“y/n..?” you hear your name being called with a gasp
You turn to face the voice..
“Is.. is that really you?” hongjoong says.. No! It's the other hongjoong.
You whip out the small dagger attached to your belt on the side.
“S-stay back!” you aim the blade towards him.
Immediately he throws his hands up to show you he's no threat..
“y/n.. Come on..” he says “it's me.. Put the knife down, you don’t need to use it.” he says, stepping closer.
“Stop” you say more firmly “don’t come any closer.”
He takes a breath.”okay.. Okay. just relax” he says.
“Me.. relax!? I know who you are..”you say.
Hongjoong looks at you, confusion flashing on his face
“You’re sick! Do you really think just cause i look like your dead lover i'd go with you and fall in love with you? You really are psychotic.” you say venom lacing your words.
“y-y/n what?” he says in shock.
There's another laugh.
“That's right love.. Tell him straight”
His head whips towards the sound of the voice
“You.” he says disgust drowning his words
He ignores him “did y’get it love?” he asks and you nod slightly tapping your pouch.
He smirks “good.. Lets go love” he says motioning you towards him “don’t worry he’d be stupid to try something on you” he says opening the tent and making his way out. You follow him
“Woah- d’you really think im just gonna let you leave with that psycho!?” the other hongjoong says and grabs your wrist. You immediately rip your wrist from his hold and plunge the dagger into his shoulder.. Deep. “don't touch me!” you shout at him
He stumbles to the ground letting out a breath of pain, hand immediately going to his shoulder blood dripping from the wound staining his shirt and hand knife still protruding from his shoulder.
He looks up at you tears brimming his eyes
“y-y/n” he sobs out, in shock.
You do nothing but glance over him in disgust and leave with hongjoong. The tent flaps closing over once more.
…
With the map back in your possession, the crew make it back to the ship and begin the preparations for the journey to the island which holds the cromer.
Everyone scurries across the deck, hongjoong barking orders left and right before he shouts for the sails to be dropped and then the ships setting sail to the horizon.
It's just days of ocean and water as far as you can see and you’ll be honest you’re getting bored and have taken to wandering the ship. Bothering the crew when doing their duties..
You started with seonghwa bothering him when he was manning the wheel in hongjoong’s absence and continuing your bothersome ways following him to the kitchen as he prepared lunch for everyone to which he quickly sends you on your way to hopefully lessen his headache..
You then move to bothering yeosang in his study, you end up distracting him so much from his work that he also sends you on your way, you knew better than to disturb san so you avoided entering his medical study.. You find mingi sharpening blades to which you tried to help him but you just couldn't get the hang of it.. Sighing dejectedly you put the sharpening tool down and thank mingi for at least trying to help you with your boredom..
You can’t find woo anywhere and there's no way you’d try to find jongho after the last encounter on the beach.. So you go towards hongjoong’s room or the captain's quarters you should say.
You knock on the door and here a light “come in”.. pushing open the door you see him just like the first time.. Sat hunched over the table seemingly hard at work.. Only this time instead of getting mad at you he smiles upon seeing you
“Ah.. y/n love come in” he says looking briefly back at the papers on the desk.
“A-are you busy?” you ask him
He sighs out
“I am love yes..” before he could continue apologising for disrupting his work and say you’ll take your leave, before you can even open the door he grabs your wrist gently tugging it from the handle and slightly pinning you to the door
“Never too busy for you though.. love” he says in a hushed tone.
It would be lying to say your heart did not race at his words, your breath getting caught in your lungs.. A fact that even he doesn't miss a soft smile graces his lips before he pulls himself from you
“Crew tells me you've been bored today,” he says, making his way to a smaller table in his room.
You sort of groan at his words.. Of course they'd tell him you were being a pest today..
“Tell me my love, d’ye know how to play?” he asks, gesturing to the wooden chess board that lays upon the table.
“I do..” you respond, making your way toward the table, having played with your grandfather countless times back home when visiting them.. You sit on the little stool at the table.
Hongjoong also sits down
“Wanna challenge me?” he asks, tilting his head. “Winner gets the other to do something for them? loser has to do it, no questions asked?” he adds, hand outstretched for a deal
You hesitate at first but agree.. Surely it won't be too bad if he wins..
You take his hand in yours and shake. And begin the game: moving the first pawn on the checked board.
…
“Checkmate love~” hongjoong says as his queen corners your king.. No place you move will save him, you sigh.
“I win” he says quietly, taking your king piece and laying it on its side.
You peer up at him through your lashes.
“Okay.. what do you want me to do”
He seems to be in thought for a moment before looking directly at you.
“I'll keep it for another time” he says cheekily
You look at him, pout on your face “when?” you ask
“Ah ah.. Believe me.. You’ll know when I use it” he says tutting.
And you’re left wondering what it'll be he’ll ask you to do for him
…
5 days. 5 days is how long it takes for you to arrive at the island located on the map.
In those 5 days you found yourself getting closer to hongjoong, of all people.
his sweet words and actions worming their way into your heart. From the way he tucks loose strands of your hair behind your ear when it's windy on deck, to his subtle glances watching you. Even purposely letting you win at your chess games!! You’ve been getting very close to one another. And now was one of those times,
Hongjoong sits sort of spread on a chaise and you rest on his chest. Him with a book in hand as you both quietly read it together in silence. Just enjoying eachothers company.
The silence is disturbed by seonghwa knocking and flinging the door open. You sit up from your spot on hongjoong. Startled by seonghwa’s intrusion.
Hongjoong bookmarks the spot in the book and closes it over then looking at seonghwa with an annoyed expression on his face
“What is it Hwa?” he asks the elder glaring at him for interrupting your time.
“Apologies captain but, we've finally arrived” he replies to him sort of bowing his head in respect.
Hongjoong is quick to stand, you see him shake slightly.
“Then let us go” he says to the elder taking your hand in his as the three of you leave the room.
..
Walking on the main deck of the ship everyone is in a rush grabbing what they need to start the journey on the island. You can't help but worry..
Hongjoong still holding your hand notices this, rubbing his thumb gently over your hand
“Don’t worry love.. We’ll get the cromer and send them back to their universe don’t you worry. After all they will come to us soon.” he says and you’ll be honest it does nothing to ease your worries especially as he told you they’ll be coming here.. After what their yunho did to you.. You can't even look at your yunho the same..
Still though you smile up at the red haired man and nod your head.
“Okay! Everyone pack your travel packs. We'll be going into an intricate cave dungeon system so make sure you pack rations, a blanket and pillow at least. The last thing we need is people getting lost down there and dying” hongjoong announces to the crew.
He hands you your own pack. “‘Ere you can use this one love,” he says.
Everyone swings their packs onto their backs and with hongjoong in the front you all exit the ship. Completely unaware of the other ship on the other side of the island.
…
Walking through the dense jungle is sweltering with the heat slowly seeping through the trees, some of the crew complaining about stopping and setting up camp here all to which hongjoong bats back that you won't stop till you reach the cave system.
You would say it takes roughly another 4-ish hours of walking with the crew complaining before hongjoong gives in and lets them set up a camp while the 9 of you continue to the caves.
As you continue to walk through the forest the silence is broke
A loud ‘ewwww’ breaks the silence, you all turn towards the culprit.
Wooyoung stands wiping slime…?? Off his shoulder..??
Slowly you all look up.. The sight is frightening. A humongous arachnid hangs from its web just above you.
Hongjoong is quick to grab you and push you behind him. Every male pulling out his sword or pistol.
The arachnid lowers itself to the ground hissing at you, pincers snapping.
Hongjoong pushes you to a bush and tells you to stay low and rushes to join the others currently swinging blades and the occasional blast of a pistol.
The beast hisses as it gets winded. Its blood seeping out in sludges to the ground. It lunges towards a few of them scratching some of them
Its legs are soon cut off and then a cutlass goes straight through its cephalothorax killing the beast as it sighs out its last breath.
Each male pants trying to catch his breath. And hongjoong instantly comes over to you, giving you a once over to make sure you're really okay. To which you immediately say that you are.
“I am joong.. Honestly just a bit scared that there's creatures like that on this island” you explain to him
He instantly pulls you into his arms.
“Don't worry love.. No matter the creature, if you're in danger I will always be there to save you. I'll never let you get hurt”
Pulling away from you he turns to the other seven males.
“Okay. let's get a move on, we need to reach the cave before dark” he exclaims.
…
The walk to the cave is steep and exhausting, you all audibly gasp sighs of relief once the cave entrance comes into view.
Lighting lanterns you all prepare to enter hongjoong says one last thing.
“Remember, we stick together.. We don't know exactly what's down here.. Possibly more arachnids.. But we find a spot to hunker down that's safe to get some rest before searching for the cromer” he says and with that you all start your journey into the cave system.
..
The cave is thankfully cool but the channels travel long.. Some ending randomly, some have deep drops. Thankfully you or hongjoong has a map of the exact route to the cromer location.
You arrive at a wider area with running water off to the side after scouting around. The place is deemed safe enough to rest in, the water checked and also approved to be safe for drinking by san.
There are a few tunnels that end abruptly along the wall so you bunker into those and use them to sleep.
There's a small fire made to heat up some soup for supper.
Once it's been heated you all sit and eat in silence only it's not an uncomfortable silence it's sort of comforting.
Bowls empty and bellies fed some retreat to their spots to try and relax and some going to rest and sleep, there's light murmurs of conversations as some discuss things with each other and jongho’s the first to take watch.. Just in case..
You watch as hongjoong speaks with him. The younger nodding to whatever the captain had told him.
Hes when walking towards you, you quickly turn your head as if you hadn't just been watching their conversation.
Hongjoong laughs and extends his hand towards you.
“Come.. I wanna show you something love..” he says and you take his hand.
He pulls you up to stand and still with your hand in his grasp begins walking away from the little make-shift base
“Should we really be leaving?” you ask him in a worried tone..
“Don’t worry.. I told jongho.. We’ll be fine besides I told you, I won't let anything bad happen to you” he smiles.
He leads you further into the system of the cave deeper into the tunnels and farther away from the others., that is until you come to a deadend the roof at a slant getting lower to the ground as it goes farther. ?
He lets go of your hand and what looks to be a deadend isn't. He jumps and pulls himself up the hole in the ceiling and extends his hands down for you
“Come on love” he says and you take his hands and he uses his strength to pull you up.
Coming through the hole you're greeted by a stunning sight, glittering amethysts and other precious stones litter the walls of this hidden room. Walking farther into the room you admire the pretty gems
You gasp in awe “do you like it?” he asks his voice quiet from the distance between you
“H-hongjoong this is- this.. Wow.. it's so pretty” you say walking farther.
“Hmm, I'm glad,” he says. You jump startled from how close the voice is.
Turning around you see him standing right behind you now.
You stumble backwards slightly and he gently grabs your wrist to prevent you from falling.
He walks you back until you hit one of the patches of smooth stone in the room. He's close.. Maybe a little too close.
You place your hands on his shoulders as if to keep him there. Only it does nothing as he leans in resting his forehead on your own.
“Not as pretty as you though” he whispers
Your breath gets stuck in your throat as it hitches
“Joong..” you breathe out just as quietly.
“y/n..” he does just the same, closing his eyes as if to savour the moment.
His hands now rest on your hips, he pulls away from your forehead slightly
“Kiss me” he breathes out and before you can respond, his lips are on your own as he traps you. Your hands slip from in front of his shoulders to wrap around his neck as you kiss the redhead back, an action that has him pulling you closer to him.
“y/n..” “my love..” “my precious..” he says between kisses and when he finally stops you’re both breathless.
“This.. isn't what i wanted to show.. You” he breathes out.
Your face scrunches up in confusion.. It's so cute that it has him kissing your nose.
“Come..” he says, presenting you his hand again. And of course you take it.
And again you're off through the opening in that room you enter a wide open space on the other side.. Water flows around and a large tree graces the other side, stepping stones lead to the area of grass the tree rests on, vines hang from the ceiling, fruits hang from the branches. The opening in the roof lets the natural moonlight inside.
Hongjoong smiles seeing your face light up again at the sight.
He gently pulls you across the stones and you make your way to the tree on the other side
You look around the area once at the other side and take in the view.
“Hongjoong this is stunning.. Thank you for bringing me here to see this” you thank him
Arms wrap around your waist and a weight is placed on your shoulder as he rests his chin there.
“I'm glad you like them my love” he hums a kiss placed on the side of your neck. It has a shiver running up your spine.
He turns you in his hold, arms still around you..
“y/n.. Precious. I love you” he says
Your heart feels to have stopped.
You open your mouth to speak.
He shakes his head.
“You don’t need to say anything right now.. Just.. will you let me prove how much i love you. precious?” he says.
Looking in his eyes you can see the determination and honesty swirling in them, so placing a kiss on his lips whilst cupping his cheeks
“Yes.. please joong..” you whisper against his lips
Pulling you close he places more soft kisses on your lips trailing them to your neck.
“May i..?” he whispers tugging slightly at your shirt, you nod
He slowly begins to unbutton the buttons of your shirt in between kisses and then slips your shirt off the material falling to the ground.
He trails the kisses down to your collarbone. As you try to discard his own shirt.
Scars litter his chest, your hands ghost over them.
He pulls you down to rest on the blanket spread on the grass. He kneels before you, hands reaching for and tugging off your boots. Before kicking off his own. His hands slither up your thighs as he places desperate kisses on your neck and down your chest. As he pushes you to lay down
His hands hook beneath the waistband of your trousers, trailing kisses further down your body as he slowly pulls them off..
“So pretty love..” he whispers, admiring you then leaning over to place another soft kiss on your lips. Your hands reach to tug him back
“So are you..” you lift your head to place a similar kiss on his own lips, which has him smiling.
“Thank you love.. But nothing can compare to how pretty you are” he says, sliding between your thighs.
“I love you so, so much love” he whispers again tears brim his eyes as they fall over and run down his cheeks.. Clear tears this time..
…
Your eyes gently flicker open.. The moon still shines in the opening above as you in the opening. Your head rests on the softness of hongjoong’s chest, you can hear the soft thumping of his heart beneath the surface. Ever so gently you sit up so not to disturb the man, you look over his face.. He looks so peaceful as he sleeps. You place your hand on his cheek and gently run your thumb over his scar with a soft smile on your face, eyes closing over slightly. Sighing in content, you look back at him, you cannot help the small gasp that escapes as you move away from the sleeping redhead..
The faint red line of his scar.. smudged looking to your thumb you see the same red slightly staining the skin.. This hongjoong.. Has no scar.. Surely he’s not been lying about having a scar after all this time.. No.. he couldn’t even the last time he cried he cried..b-blood.. This hongjoong didn't.
Your heart begins to beat erratically in your chest. You feel as though any second you could pass out. You stand to your feet grabbing the extra blanket and holding it close to your naked form and if to solidify and mock your mistake and realisation.. Said man tosses on his side in his sleep and there, clear as day on his shoulder blade.. ‘HALA’ permanently resides there in black ink.
You stumble back at the realisation the room spins, your legs give way and you brace yourself expecting to hit the ground..
Only.. you don't. You fall into something soft.
“oh.. darlin’..” a voice quietly whispers out.
#starrywooyo treasure series#starrywooyo fics#ateez pirate au#starrywooyo treasure#ateez x reader#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader#ateez fanfiction#starrywooyo#starrywooyo updates#pirate au
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GLITCH “we were supposed to be just friends.” carl grimes x fem!reader
tags: a little bit of angst but mostly fluff, has mentions of death, lowercase intended!!
a/n: kinda based on glitch by taylor swift. this is my first fic so i apologize if it’s bad!!
it was never supposed to end up like this. oh no, not even remotely close. when you first arrived to alexandria, with your jagged cuts and discolored bruises scattered across your body, majority of your hope was lost. all of the important people in your life seemed to just fade away, and you couldn’t do anything about it. you would spend your days sat beneath a tree, idling away the hours reading your beloved comics. you enjoyed the isolation, it provided you with a slight sense of comfort. that was the case until one particular day. you made your way over to your special spot, freezing in your tracks when you saw him. carl grimes.
he was sitting with his back against your tree. you never really talked to the boy, only spoken to each other once, which was when you first arrived. he was friendly and seemed like a nice kid, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to talk to anyone. the fear of getting attached and losing them in the end made you shudder every time you thought of it. you quietly sat down next to him, not uttering a single word. he looked up from his own comic, shooting you a smile along with a “hey.”
it became a daily occurrence, sitting down next to whoever came first. you two started to talk more, bonding over your love for comics and random things you had in common. you started to open up, a stark contrast to how you normally behaved, and over time a meaningful attachment to each other blossomed. carl knew and noticed everything about you, from your favorite color down to how your nose lightly scrunched when you felt the slightest bit of discomfort. he brought out a side of you that you thought was gone long ago. he’d changed you for the better, and you were extremely grateful.
at some point however, you started to feel a certain way around carl. you tried to push it away, told yourself you were just being silly. but you knew deep down how you really felt. you had feelings for the pretty boy. hell, you were practically in love. you told yourself he would never reciprocate the feelings, and tried to forget about it, but it was oh so hard when his arm would brush over yours while walking, when he looked at you with his eyes that resembled the blue flames of a restless fire.
“oh come on! it was one time.” you say, giggling at carl’s joke while walking alongside him. “sure, we’re just gonna forget about all the other times you fell on your face because you don’t look where you’re going.” he says playfully, nudging your shoulder while smiling. you felt your heart skip a beat, and tried to hide your flustered state. there was a short silence between you two before carl’s footsteps came to a stop. you look at him, eyebrows furrowing with confusion.
“what’s up?” “i- there’s something i haven’t told you.” he says, lowering the volume of his voice. “which is..?” you say, slightly fidgeting with your hands in anxiety, thinking of all the possibilities of what could come out of his mouth. could it be he wanted to stop hanging out? he wanted space? surely you did something to upset him. negative thoughts ran through your mind, you spacing out in the process. “i like you.” he blurts out, instantly breaking your trance. “huh?” “i said i like you. i really like you.”
it felt as if you couldn’t breathe, the words not coming out of your mouth. you were simply taken aback. carl grimes likes you? he must be joking. “i- is this a joke? it must be. you’re really funny carl, seriously best joke of the ye-“ he cuts you off by smashing his soft lips against your mildly chapped ones. he cups your face with his cold hands, the feeling of his lips upon yours felt like a dream. it didn’t feel real, as if it were a glitch.
your lips were locked on each others for what seemed like ages before you two had to pull away to take a breath. carl took your hand in his, rubbing circles onto your palm as you two made eye contact. “believe me now?” he says, smiling as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “hmm, not quite. think i need a round two.” “smart girl.” he says before leaning in once again.
@p1stach1oss saw first <3
#carl grimes#carl grimes x reader#the walking dead#twd x reader#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes x fem!reader#carl grimes angst#carl grimes fluff
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Sew Me Up and Keep Me Whole
fanfiction
ao3
word count: 7603
Thanks to seeing how various injuries are treated as a member of the football team, Dash actually has a decent background in first aid and anatomy. He gets adopted into Team Phantom when circumstances keep leading him to be the one patching up Phantom after fights.
ohohohhoho
Dash was walking home after a football game. He was exhausted and was looking forward to going to bed tonight. Plus there was a ghost attack at the end of the game so it ran extra long while they waited for it to be over.
He turned into the park. It was dark in the park, but it made his trip home from the school faster. His dad would be even madder if he woke him up this late. He wanted to get back as soon as possible.
He got to the wooded part of the trees when he heard something. It sounded like voices.
“Tucker, you’re not doing it right.” Somebody whispered angrily. It sounded like Manson.
“Do you want to try doing this?” He hissed back. “I’m the only one who’s taken a sewing class. You didn’t think you should be reduced to something so ‘stereotypically feminine.’”
“-’s not ev’n a fem’n’n thing.” Was that Fenton? “Sewing is a b-basic life skill…”
“That’s not the point!” She hissed back at them. “My mom-”
Dash stepped through the bushes and past the tree separating them and fell short. That wasn’t who he was expecting to be there.
Phantom sat in between Foley and Manson, not Fenton. As he stepped through the bushes their heads snapped up to look at him. Phantom’s head groggily lulled to the side as he looked at Dash.
“Ha. Jus’...what we need.”
Dash frowned. “What?”
Phantom chuckled and closed his eyes.
“No! Don’t close your eyes!” Manson lightly slapped him. When he just groaned and leaned his head back against the tree behind him she slapped him harder.
“...Sam!” He pried his eyes open and glared at her. “Don’ hit m’..”
“You can’t fall asleep until Tucker is done with your stitches. If only he could just hurry it up.” Manson ground out.
“I’m going as fast as I can!” Tucker breathed out, his hand shakily pulling another stitch through Phantom’s injury. “I don’t want to leave an ugly scar or make it worse by not doing it well.”
Dash stepped closer to where they were sat behind the bushes. Manson shot another look at him. He could finally see Phantom’s wound and it was pretty gnarly. Foley’s stitches were holding it closed but they definitely weren’t pretty.
“Do you need help?” Dash asked apprehensively. “I’ve seen a lot of injuries during football practice. And I’m not squeamish like you, Foley.”
“Yeah? You know how to sew up wounds?” Manson spit out. “How is watching people get treated for wounds during practice the same as sewing up an injury?”
Dash held up his hands. “It seems like Foley doesn’t know what he’s doing either. I know how to sew already. Isn’t that like halfway there?”
Foley looked at Manson. “If he can get it done faster than me, why not let him? We’re gonna run out of time.”
“How can we trust him?” Manson glanced at Dash, worrying her lip.
“He is literally Phantom’s biggest fan except for maybe Paulina. Do you really think he’s gonna try to kill him?”
A blush rose to Dash’s cheeks at Foley’s comment while Manson kept studying him.
A few more moments went by before she looked back at Phantom. He smiled at her groggily.
She sighed. “Fine. Dash, get over here.”
His eyes widened, stunned that they actually accepted his help. He strode forward and knelt on the ground between Foley and Manson. Phantom looked up at him, the goofy smile still on his face.
“Funny that y’ur the one h’lping me.” He chuckled.
“Why’s that?” Dash asked. Phantom just shook his head and chuckled again.
“Here.” Foley handed him a pair of gloves. “We don’t know if his ectoplasm can irritate or damage skin. We haven't felt risky enough to try it out yet.”
“How often do you guys do this?” Dash snapped his gloves on and took the needle from Foley. Phantom smiled wistfully.
“I get hurt a lot.”
Dash hummed as he made his first stitch. “Well that’s not good.”
“Yeahh.. ghosts suck. And also bullies. They can hurt pretty bad sometimes too.”
Shame wriggled into Dash’s stomach as he made another stitch. What would Phantom think of him if he knew he was a bully himself?
Phantom hummed a wistful sigh as he watched Dash sew his wound closed.
“Y’know, ‘ur pretty cute.”
Dash’s brain stopped for a moment and spent a second processing what Phantom said. He felt like he was short circuiting.
“What?” Dash asked.
Tucker burst out laughing. “Man, you’re not gonna live this one down.” Sam shushed him.
Dash continued sewing Phantom’s wound closed as he tried to get his bearings. He never would’ve thought his hero would think of him like that.
“So.” He said, pulling the thread tight. “Are you guys friends?”
“We’r’ bes frie-” Sam covered his mouth.
“We help him with ghost fights. We don’t know him that well.”
“Oh. It just seemed like you guys are pretty close. He must trust you two a lot.”
Dash finished up his last stitch. “There we go. You’re all closed up.”
Phantom smiled at him again as Dash pulled off his gloves and put them in a bag Tucker held up to him. “Tha’ was s’much faster than Tucker.”
“Much cleaner stitches, too.” Sam said, leaning down to look at them.
“‘Thank you for trying, Tucker. We’re so grateful for you, Tucker.’” He mumbled out as he put all their supplies back in his bag.
“C’mon, Tuck!” Phantom lulled his head in Tucker’s direction. “You’ve stitched up so… so many stitches before now. I’d’d have bled out so many times over with-without you.”
“Thank you, D- Phantom.”
Dash pushed himself up off the ground and stretched. “Do you guys need help getting him back… Wherever he needs to go?”
“We can take him back to my house.” Sam stood up. “My parents are those people who go to bed at eight o’clock and get up at some ungodly hour for their office jobs.”
“Can you stand, Phantom?” Tucker asked him.
Phantom shakily tried to stand up. He only made it up part way before he fell back to his knees.
“Here.”
Dash bent down and picked Phantom up bridal style. He adjusted his hold on him until he was holding him comfortably.
“Okay.” Dash turned to look at Sam. “Lead the way.”
He followed behind Sam and Tucker as they walked through the trees. Phantom was much heavier than what Dash would expect from a ghost. He figured ghosts would be light as a feather since they could fly, but Phantom felt so much like a human it was uncanny.
Phantom leaned his head back into the crook of Dash’s neck. He took a sharp breath in as he felt Phantom’s breath ghost against his neck.
Dash looked down at Phantom and his eyes were closed, but after a few moments of Dash staring Phantom peeked an eye open.
He jumped and looked back up at Sam and Tucker. They were whispering between themselves, shooting glances back at Dash. Phantom chuckled.
“Thank you for helping us.”
Dash looked back down at him. Phantom already seemed to be more coherent than when Dash first stumbled upon them.
“Of course. You should probably thank your friends for letting me help you. They were pretty skeptical at first.”
Phantom shrugged. “They’re just looking out for me. They’re protective.”
“So you are friends?” Dash asked. Phantom looked at Sam and Tucker.
“Yeah. They’re the best friends I could’ve asked for.”
“Are you friends with the Fenton kid too?” Dash asked.
Phantom turned to look at Dash sharply. “The Fenton kid?”
“Yeah.” Dash nodded. “Danny. Hangs around with those two. Kind of a freak.”
Phantom frowned at him and turned away from him. “Oh. The ghost hunter’s son? No. Why would I be friends with him? His parents would tear me apart.”
“Oh. Yeah that’s true. Those three just never go anywhere without each other so I thought maybe he was in on this too. He’s a dork anyways.”
“We’re here.” Sam called behind them.
Dash looked up to see Sam and Tucker stopped in front of a set of stairs leading to Sam’s front door. Phantom suddenly jumped out of Dash’s arms and winced once his feet hit the ground. It set Dash off balance and it took a moment for him to regain it.
Phantom walked over to where Sam and Tucker were waiting.
“Will you be okay?” Dash called to him.
“Yeah.” Phantom said without looking back at him. “I’ll be fine.”
He walked away from Dash without looking back at him. The three of them walked inside the door and shut it behind them.
He stood there and stared at the closed door. A pit formed in his stomach but he’s not sure what happened.
He turned around and started the short trek home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dash was walking in the hallways of Casper High. He was heading to his next class. He just wanted this day to be over with.
Up ahead of him he saw Fenton and his friends. He smirked and started walking faster to catch up with them.
“Hey, Fentoadally lame! Where do you think you’re going!”
He saw Fenton’s shoulders rise and fall as he sighed. He looked over his shoulder at Dash, an angry grimace on his face.
“Anywhere away from you.”
The hallways were starting to clear out as it got closer to the bell. He caught up to them and grabbed Danny by the shoulder, turning him around and slamming him into the lockers to their left. He glared up at Dash.
“What do you want, Dash?”
Dash sneered down at him. “I want to get my afternoon wailing in before I lose my chance and you disappear for the rest of the day like you did yesterday.”
Danny rolled his eyes. “And why does your wailing have to be on me?”
“Because you’re my favorite nerd to wail on.” Dash said as he pulled his arm back, ready to hit Danny.
“Excuse me!”
Something hit Dash in the back of the head. He hissed and when he turned around he saw Sam holding her boot in her hand, glaring at him.
“What the hell, Manson?” He rubbed the spot she had hit. “What’s that boot made of?”
“Steel toe.” Tucker said from where he stood, far away from the action.
“How’s it feel, Dash? Huh? Do you like getting hit? Do you want to know what it’s like to get beat up for no reason every single day?” Sam spat at him.
He took a step away from her. He already knew what that was like. He didn’t need to know what it would be like, just from a different person.
“Sam-” Danny tried stepping out from behind Dash to get to her but there wasn’t enough room for him to move.
“Why should we let you keep helping us with Phantom if we can’t trust you to leave our friend alone?”
“What?” Dash asked, incredulous. “How are either of these things related?”
Sam walked up to him and poked him in the chest. Distantly Dash could hear the late bell ringing. “Because how do we know you wouldn’t turn on Phantom? That if we relied on you, that you would actually be there to help him?”
“But Phantom is-”
“A person, just like Danny.” Sam said. “Just because Danny isn’t your ‘hero’ doesn’t mean he deserves to be a punching bag.”
Dash rolled his eyes. “Fenton just asks for it.”
Sam closed her eyes and shook her head.
“No, you know what? We won’t need your help anymore, Dash. We were doing just fine without you. We’ll manage.”
“I didn’t want to have to associate with you nerds anymore than I have to anyways.” Dash tried to ignore the pang in his chest at the idea of not being able to help Phantom anymore.
“You know, I’ve heard that Phantom doesn’t like bullies.” Fenton said from behind him.
Dash turned and frowned at him. “What do you know?” He shoved Fenton into the lockers one more time and walked away from them. He could hear Sam furiously whispering with Danny about something but Dash tried to tune it out.
Where did Manson get off threatening to beat him? That’d just make her a hypocrite, wouldn’t it? Doing the very thing she hates?
Whatever. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t make it so Phantom couldn’t talk to him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey, I’ll see you later, Kwan!” Dash said as he walked out of the Nasty Burger. Kwan turned around where he was walking the opposite way down the sidewalk.
“Yeah! See you tomorrow, buddy!” Kwan shouted back at him.
Dash smiled as he started his walk home. Kwan was always pretty good at cheering him up. He’d had a pretty bad week. Every time he’d gone to Phantom to try to talk to him he’d up and disappear or fly away before Dash could even get a word in. Sam and Tucker must’ve said something to him about what happened with Fenton.
He sighed. He’d probably never get to talk to Phantom again at this rate.
He heard some rustling coming from the alley he was coming up on. He paused just before it. Nothing good ever came from inside alleyways.
“Tucker, where are you- Danny, he-”
He could hear Manson’s panicked voice coming from inside the alley. He crept forward.
Dash looked into the alley to see Sam desperately talking on the phone. Phantom sat on the ground in front of her. She was holding a rag to his stomach.
“No, no I already have the supplies. I can’t-”
A tear streamed down her face. “Tucker, I need you. I can’t do this without you.”
Phantom’s eyes slowly opened. He tilted his head towards the end of the alley that Dash was standing in. He locked eyes with him, taking a deep breath.
“Sam..”
She looked up at him. When she saw where he was looking, she followed his gaze until her eyes landed on Dash. Her eyes widened. After a few moments of staring, she put her phone back up to her ear.
“No, Dash- Dash is here. He just walked up. He- He could probably help us again. Just one more time.”
Dash jumped. How serious was it this time that she couldn’t wait for Tucker?
“Dash, get over here!”
He jumped again at her call, but ran to them inside the alley.
“Can you stitch him up again?” She pleaded. “I know what I said, but I-”
“It’s fine.” Dash said. “I’m not that petty that I’ll refuse to save his life just because you don’t like me.”
She pulled a first aid kit out of her backpack and handed it to him. “You’re mean to me and my friends. I don’t want to be around you if you’re going to bully us.”
“Tch.” Dash scoffed. He pulled on a pair of gloves. “As if you aren’t just as mean to us. You go around antagonizing Paulina and forcing things that you want to do on other people.”
She rolled her eyes. “You literally beat people up and stuff them into their lockers. That is not the same thing.”
“Yeah, well-”
“As much as I love watching Sam tell it to you, can you guys hurry it up?”
Dash and Sam looked at Phantom. He had one eye squinted open and he was looking between them.
“Sorry.” Dash said. He threaded the needle and got started stitching up Phantom’s wound.
They were silent while Dash worked. His stitches were quick and soon Dash was done. He sighed.
“I actually used to be friends with them when we were younger. Before they met you.”
“What?” Sam turned to stare at him. “Why are you so mean to them then?”
“My parents didn’t like Fenton’s parents. Or all the nonsense they were spouting about ghosts. I’d come home and tell them all about it and they thought the Fenton’s were ‘corrupting my mind’ or something like that.”
Phantom turned his head to look at Dash.
“My parents told me I couldn’t be his friend anymore. And I told Danny that, but he didn’t get it. And he and Tucker were a package deal at that point. They were more inseparable than me and Danny had ever been. So I just… told them that I didn’t want to be their friend anymore. That they weren’t cool enough. I think I hit one of them. They didn’t go out of their way to talk to me after that.”
They sat in silence for a moment after that.
“Parents, amiright?” Sam said quietly, as she looked at Phantom. “My parents are like that. They try to get me to stop being friends with Danny all the time but I argue too much with them for it to ever stick. Or I don’t tell them when I’m hanging out with Danny.”
“At least you have that luxury.” Dash looked at the ground. “If I don’t listen to my parents… Well, they like to use their fists more than their words.”
Sam covered her mouth.
Dash let out a short laugh.
“And now ghosts are real and they keep asking me all sorts of questions like they expect me to remember the things they told me were bad and wanted me to forget.”
Dash was startled when he felt a hand on his arm. He looked up and saw that Phantom was still staring at him.
“It’s not your fault.”
Dash shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He shifted so that instead of kneeling on his knees, he was sitting on the ground. He ran his hands through his hair roughly.
“It is my fault!” Dash ground out. “I didn’t have to treat them the way I did! I could’ve broken the cycle but now I’m just like my parents.”
“You don’t have to be.” Sam said. “There’s always time to change. Hell, admitting to how shitty you’ve been is a pretty good start.”
Dash sighed. Phantom looked like he was about to say something but he was interrupted by Tucker sprinting into the alley, out of breath.
“I’m here! I’m here. Did you guys get it figured out?”
Sam nodded and gestured at Dash. “He helped us out again. He really came in clutch there.”
Dash nodded and stood up. “I guess I should get going now. I don’t want to-”
“Wait!” Sam held her hands up in a stop motion. She stood up to look at him. “Do you want to join team Phantom?”
“What?” Tucker looked at her, shocked. “Why are you asking Dash to join the team? I thought you-”
“Clearly having another person around will be beneficial.” Sam interrupted Tucker without looking at him. “You’ve already helped us twice. You could even teach us to sew and stitch up wounds better.”
Dash looked between the three of them. He wasn’t a part of whatever they had going. Would they really be okay with him joining their team? Did they really want him to be a part of it? Or was it just a pity offer?
“Why would you want me to join your team?” Dash said quietly.
“You care more than I thought you did.” Sam said.
Dash laughed. That didn’t seem like a very concrete reason.
“Break the cycle.”
Dash looked back up at where Phantom still sat on the ground. He was staring at Dash.
“Break the cycle.” He said again. “Prove that you can be better. If not for us, just do it for yourself.”
Dash looked away. He nodded. That sounded like a good reason. Work to break the cycle his parents put him in. He nodded again.
“Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll join Team Phantom.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dash stood outside Tucker’s door awkwardly. Tucker said now would be a good time to come over so they could practice sewing. He hasn’t knocked yet though. He hadn’t been back here since they were all still friends.
He lifted his hand up and paused for a moment. Finally, he brought his fist down on the door and knocked twice.
“I’ve got it!” Tucker shouted from inside the house. He heard some shuffling and then a muffled, “Mom!”
Then the door opened, but instead of Tucker it was his mom. His eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. She looked behind her where Tucker was standing and then looked back at Dash. Tucker shrugged behind her.
“Why, Dash, I haven’t seen you in such a long time. How have you been?” She asked him.
He nodded. “Good, good. Things have been fine. How have you been?”
“Things have been good here.” She looked between Tucker and Dash again. “What brings you over after so long?”
“I, uh..” Dash stammered. They didn’t come up with an excuse. He really couldn’t tell her they were practicing sewing so they could sew up wounds.
“Class project!” Sam’s voice came from down the steps behind him. He turned to see her hurrying up the stairs. “We’re going to be working on our sewing today for class. Dash is going to practice with us.”
“Ohh.” Tucker’s mom nodded. “Well that sounds fun. Do you guys have any projects in the making?”
“We’re not quite there yet, mom.” Tucker said as he stepped forward. “We’re still learning so we’ll probably just be sewing squares of fabric together.”
She nodded again. “Let me know if you kids have any questions. I know a thing or two about sewing myself.” She smiled at them.
“Thanks, mom. We will.” Tucker waved them into the house and then closed the door behind them once they were both inside. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”
He followed behind both Tucker and Sam as they made their way up the stairs. He hadn’t been here in a very long time but little had changed over the years. Except for maybe new photos that had been hung up on the wall.
They reached the top of the stairs and then Tucker pulled down the attic door and unfolded the ladder. They climbed up there and Dash had the fleeting thought that if they wanted to make him disappear, an attic would be a pretty good place to make that happen.
“Boo.”
Dash jumped as a voice spoke close into his ear and then laughter erupted from an invisible mouth.
“Oh that was good. I haven’t been able to get Sam or Tucker that good in a long time.”
Phantom dropped his invisibility and appeared in front of Dash. Dash chuckled nervously.
“Phantom, don’t be too mean to him. We’re trying to make amends, remember?” Sam called to them while she and Tucker dug through some box.
“Yeah, yeah.” Phantom waved her comment off. He looked back at Dash. “I gotta have fun with this whole ghost thing somehow though, right?”
Dash nodded. “I can’t say I would be so chivalrous if I had your powers. I’d probably be sneaking into the girl’s locker room or something.”
“Eh. It was exciting the first couple times but now the novelty has worn off.”
Dash’s eyes widened. Phantom went to spy in the girl’s locker room?
“Anyways.” Phantom drawled out. “What will I be doing today?”
Dash stared at him. “You’ll also be learning to sew.”
Phantom frowned. “Why?”
“If Sam or Tucker, or even me, ever get hurt during one of your ghost fights it might be useful for you to know. Or if you ever have an occasion where you’re alone and need to do it yourself, if you’re able to of course.”
“Are you gonna be like, our teacher?” Sam asked Dash.
Dash shrugged. “I can explain the basics but this is mostly just practice time.”
They got to work practicing their sewing. Sam and Tucker were working together on the other side of the attic while Dash worked with Phantom. They had cut up squares of fabric that they were sewing together. Phantom looked up at Dash as he pulled a thread through his two pieces he had in his hands.
“Why’d you learn to sew?” Danny asked. “It’s not something most guys pick up.”
Dash shrugged. “My parents liked to wreck a lot of my things growing up. They destroyed a lot of stuffed animals, but when they ripped apart the last teddy bear I got from my grandma before she passed away I decided I was going to take it into my own hands and fix it.”
“Oh.” Phantom’s shoulders dropped and he looked at Dash sadly. “I’m sorry they did that.”
“They’re not good people.” Dash made a couple more stitches on his own squares in his hands. “It hurt when I realized that.”
Phantom nodded. “Sometimes I worry that my parents are bad people. They want to hurt me but I know they’re not actually bad.”
“How are they not bad? You just said they want to hurt you.” Dash frowned at him.
“It’s more complicated because of the whole ghost thing.” Phantom shook his head. “They don’t know who I am.”
Dash’s eyes widened. “What? How can they not know?”
Phantom’s sad expression turned into a smirk. “I’ve got to keep some of my secrets.”
Dash rolled his eyes. “Okay, Inviso-bill.”
“Hey!” Phantom pushed his shoulder.
His skin tingled where Phantom had touched him through his jacket. They smiled at each other and Dash looked back down at the fabric in his hands. They worked for another couple moments before Phantom spoke again.
“What if we sewed them all together?”
“What?” Dash looked back up at him.
“The squares.” Phantom held up his small pile he had gathered while they were working. “We could sew all the squares we make together and turn them into a blanket.”
“Ohh. That’d be cool.” He turned around in his seat. “Yo, Manson. Foley!”
They turned around to face him. “What?”
“Phantom wants to turn our squares into blankets.”
“I like that idea.” Tucker said.
“Does your mom have a sewing machine? It might be easier to sew all the rows together with the sewing machine once we get that far.”
Tucker nodded. “Let me go ask her for it.”
He headed downstairs. Sam stood up and walked over to them.
“How’s your practice going?” She asked.
“Good.” Phantom held up his work so far. The stitches were getting neater and tighter as he showed Sam his progress.
As Dash was showing Sam his own squares, Tucker made his way back up the ladder to the attic. He hefted the sewing machine up onto the floor and climbed up with some extra fabric and some kind of stuffing. He let out a breath.
“My mom gave us some fabric and some quilt batting so we can finish turning it into a blanket.”
“How do we decide who gets to keep the blanket?” Dash asked.
Phantom looked at him. “I think you should get it. We can always make more if we’re going to keep practicing sewing. You should get the first one.”
“Yeah.” Sam said. “It can be a thank you for taking the time to teach us and practice with us.”
“Let’s get this bad boy finished.”
They spent the next couple hours practicing sewing the squares by hand and once they were all sewed together Dash took them to the sewing machine. They got all the rows assembled and the blanket put together with the stuffing inside. Dash stood up and held it up for everyone to look at.
Tucker clapped. “Great work everyone. Just, wow.”
Sam rolled her eyes.
Dash lowered it and smiled at them.
“Here.”
Phantom floated forward and grabbed the other end of the blanket and helped Dash fold it. Their fingers met as they folded it together. Phantom passed his end to Dash and their fingers grazed as he pulled away.
“Thanks.” They stared at each other for a few moments. Dash cleared his throat. “Well. I should get going. It’s getting kind of late.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Sam checked the time on her phone. My parents are gonna start calling me if I don’t get home soon.”
“Thanks for helping us out Dash.” Phantom called as Dash started making his way down the ladder. Dash smiled at him.
“Thanks for giving me the chance.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
Dash stepped out of the school. It was empty in the schoolyard. Dash had had to stay late to finish up a test with one of his teachers.
“Hey.”
Dash jumped at the voice beside him. Phantom flickered into visibility.
“Why do you keep doing that?” Dash pouted.
Phantom shrugged and held his head in his hand as he floated next to Dash. “It’s funny. Like I said, I can’t get Sam and Tucker like that anymore.”
“Where are they anyways?” Dash crossed the street in front of the school and started the walk home.
“They’re busy.” Phantom groaned and flipped onto his back midair. “They had some very important stuff to do and they said I couldn’t come with them.”
“So tragic.” Dash smiled and shook his head at Phantom’s antics.
Phantom laughed as he floated backwards on his back beside Dash, his arms crossed behind his head. Dash smiled as he watched him, a warm feeling growing in his chest. Phantom’s smile felt like the sun.
“I think they’re trying to surprise me for my birthday. It’s coming up soon.”
Dash’s eyes widened. “You still celebrate your birthday?”
Phantom shot a look back at him. “Yeah? Don’t you still celebrate yours?”
“Yeah, but you’re a ghost. Wouldn’t you celebrate your death day instead?”
Phantom scrunched up his nose and stared at a point from where they had come. “I try as hard as I can to not think about my death day. It was painful.”
“What was it like? Dying?”
Phantom turned to face Dash. He studied his face for a moment before he spoke.
“I-”
A roar sounded from ahead of them on the street they were walking down. A ghost turned around the corner of a building and stared down at them.
“Stay back.” Phantom said to him and flew away. He flew circles around the ghost's head and soon it was facing back the other way. It roared when Phantom shot an ectoblast between its eyes.
It swung at him again and again, its slow paws trying and trying to hit Phantom.
“You sure are slow!” Phantom smirked at the ghost and spun onto his back. “You fight like my sister.”
The ghost roared again and Phantom flew back to avoid the swipe but he didn’t move fast enough.
The ghost scratched Phantom across the chest as he flew back. Dash could hear him hiss from where he stood on the ground.
“That’s all you got, ghost?” Phantom held his fists back up.
As if taking that as a challenge, the ghost shrieked. It reared up for another hit. Phantom dodged the first one but wasn’t so lucky the second time.
When the ghost’s claws connected with Phantom, Dash could hear the sound of his suit ripping. The ghost spun and sent him flying backwards down the street.
“Phantom!” Dash shouted as he turned to look where Phantom had been thrown behind him.
He laid there on the ground. He was hardly moving. The ghost started closing in, not paying any mind to Dash.
“Hey!” Dash swung his arms in the air, trying to get the ghost’s attention. It finally looked down at him and paused.
“Yeah! Leave him alone!” Dash shouted. He stuck a hand into his backpack and pulled out that lipstick laser that Tucker gave him. He aimed it at the ghost and took a shaky shot.
It hit the ghost in the chest and it roared, charging at him. Dash took a step back but he yanked his backpack off, desperately digging out the thermos. He shakily pulled it out of his backpack just as the ghost was getting to him and he pressed the button.
The ghost loomed over him before it got sucked into the thermos. Once it was gone, Dash closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. Then his eyes snapped back open and he turned around.
Phantom.
He ran down the street to where Phantom lay. Phantom’s eyes opened as Dash got closer. Thank god.
“Hey. How bad is it?” Dash asked as he dropped down to his knees on the pavement.
Phantom hissed as he sat up. “Not the worst I’ve ever had. I’m not sure any of these need stitches.”
“Are you sure?” Dash studied his suit where it was torn. “I could literally hear your suit get shredded from where I was standing.”
“Yeah.” Phantom nodded. “I think a good chunk of things I need to have stitched up are because I kept fighting and tore them and made them worse.” He looked up at Dash. “Thanks, by the way. For helping me with that ghost.”
“Whaat? It was nothing.” Dash smiled at him.
Phantom laughed. “I could see you shaking in your boots from here.”
Dash crossed his arms and turned his nose up away from Phantom. “Fighting ghosts is a lot scarier without fancy ghost powers.”
“Yeah, but really, thanks.”
Dash looked back at Phantom. He couldn’t help it. It was the first thing he could think to do. He wasn’t going to just let a ghost get him when he couldn’t fight.
Dash was lost in thought for a moment before his mind wandered back to Phantom’s injury.
“Do you at least want that bandaged even if you don’t need stitches?”
Phantom nodded. “Yeah. It’ll help stop the bleeding.”
Dash dug through his backpack where it sat next to him when he dropped it. He pulled out his first aid kit.
“Gauze or giant band aid?” Dash asked.
Phantom looked down at his chest where the scratches were. He thought for a moment.
“Probably gauze. I think these are too long for a giant bandaid.”
Dash nodded. He pulled the gauze out and turned back to Phantom. He blushed.
“What?” Phantom asked.
The thought of Dash asking Phantom to undress was frazzling Dash’s brain. He only had to unzip the top part of his jumpsuit but he’d never seen Phantom in anything besides that before. What would he look like underneath?
“I need, uh, you to unzip the top part of your jumpsuit so I can wrap the gauze around your chest.”
Phantom looked back down at his chest. “Oh.” He unzipped the front of his jumpsuit and pulled his arms out. He looked back up at Dash.
Dash’s blush went all the way up to his ears and he tried not to stare but he couldn’t help it. Phantom’s skin was so different from other ghosts. He was so much more human-like than them.
Phantom held his hand out for Dash and he looked back up to his face.
“I can do this if it’s too weird for you.”
“It’s not weird!” Dash blurted out. “I just, uh- I don’t-”
Phantom grabbed the gauze out of Dash’s hand and started wrapping it around his chest. “That’s okay. Sam was kind of awkward the first time she had to do this too.”
Dash nodded, but he was disappointed. This could’ve been an opportunity to get close to Phantom. To maybe graze a hand against his skin. Feel what a ghosts skin would-
“Dash?”
He jumped. “Yeah?”
“I’m all done. Here.” Phantom tossed the roll of gauze back to Dash. He fumbled to catch it and when he did he stowed it back in his first aid kit.
Dash put everything back in his backpack and threw it back on his shoulder. He stood up and waited for Phantom to shove his arms back into his sleeves before he offered his hands to help Phantom up.
Phantom looked at them for a moment before he reached up and grabbed onto Dash’s hands. Dash pulled Phantom to his feet and then they just stared at each other. Dash’s grip on Phantom’s hands tightened. He took a step closer to Phantom but then someone shouted at them.
“Look! It’s Phantom!”
Dash looked up around him and was shocked to see how many people had gathered around them. Where had they all come from? Were they all watching the ghost fight from their homes?
“Phantom, who is this boy? Why is he helping you?”
“Is that your boyfriend?”
“Who would be crazy enough to date a dead person?”
The voices clamored around them and Dash felt like they were pressing in on him. Phantom glanced at him and let go of his hands and instead wrapped an arm around his side.
“Gotta go!”
“Wait, wha-!”
Dash yelped as he was pulled into the air with Phantom as he took off in flight. He’d never flown before. Not even in a plane. He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his arm around Phantom’s shoulder. The flight was quick and soon they were touching down on the ground.
Dash peeked an eye open and saw that they were standing in front of his house.
“That was fast.” Dash said, out of breath.
“Yeah.” Phantom smiled at him. “My top speed we’ve clocked so far is a hundred and twelve miles per hour. I can get anywhere in town pretty darn fast.”
“Dang. That’s cool. Kinda scary.”
Phantom smiled. “You get used to it after a while.”
They looked at each other for a moment before Phantom seemed to remember he was still holding onto Dash. He coughed and pulled his hand away and it drifted across Dash’s back, leaving a trail of butterfly inducing tingles.
“Well, I gotta go. I have things to do.”
Dash let out a nervous laugh. “How busy can a ghost possibly be?”
“Like I’ve said, I’ve got to keep some of my secrets.”
Phantom started floating up into the air.
“Aw, come on. We’re not close enough for that yet?” Dash shouted up at him.
He smiled down at Dash. “Not quite. Maybe one day.”
Phantom waved down at Dash and then he flew away. Dash’s heart fluttered and he waved back belatedly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dash was laying in bed. He was ready to go to sleep after such a long day. He could almost fall asleep right now.
He started drifting off but was interrupted a moment later.
Phantom flew through Dash’s bedroom wall and crashed onto his bed. Dash jumped up and stared at the boy that was suddenly next to him.
“Phantom?” Dash exclaimed.
He was curled up on his side next to Dash, holding his stomach.
“I didn’t… I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Tucker is out of town and the far frozen was too far away for this one- ah!” He clenched his stomach again.
“No, no. That’s what I’m here for. That’s why you guys agreed to let me join your team. So that there was someone else there to patch you up.”
Phantom shook his head. “This one’s worse. There’s a chance I’ll-”
A white ring appeared around his waist. Phantom tensed up and groaned before it disappeared again.
“What was that?” Dashed asked, staring.
Phantom shook his head. “You need to start stitching the wound up now. If we wait it’ll start bleeding faster. We can’t-” He tensed up again. Sparks flew around his middle. “We have to hurry.”
At Phantom’s plea, he hurriedly got up and grabbed his first aid kit from under his bed. He kneeled down and Phantom turned to his side to face him.
“Can you uncurl for me? I need to take a look.”
Phantom nodded and slowly pulled his arms away from his stomach. They were covered in ectoplasm. Dash gulped and studied the wound. It was deep. Ectoplasm was steadily oozing out of it. He pulled a pair of gloves on.
“This is pretty deep, what if I can’t-”
“Sewing it shut will help.” Phantom grimaced. “Once the wound is shut my healing abilities will have an easier time mending it.”
Dash nodded. “Okay.”
He took a deep breath and got started. Phantom flinched with every touch of the needle. Dash was halfway done when the ring appeared around his waist again. Phantom struggled to push it away, but it disappeared after a few seconds.
“Phantom.” Dash kept stitching the wound closed. “What’s happening?”
“I can’t keep it back anymore.” Phantom ground out. “When I transform, I’m going to start bleeding much faster. You have to keep stitching me up, no matter what.”
“What? When you transform? What does that-”
The rings appeared around Phantom’s waist a final time. Dash tried to keep his focus on stitching Phantom’s wound, but then the rings split. They revealed a very familiar shirt underneath them.
“I’m sorry.”
The rings finished traveling over the rest of Phantom’s body. Dash’s hands shook as the ectoplasm that was steadily coming out of the wound turned into blood. The pace increased and Dash got a glimpse at Phantom’s face as the rings went over his head and Danny Fenton was left in his place.
Danny met his gaze for a moment and then his eyes fluttered closed.
“Danny?” Dash whispered.
He didn’t move and Dash went back to stitching up the wound. He was almost done and he was hoping this would be enough. That Danny wouldn’t…
He shook his head. He couldn’t think like that. He had already seen the impossible. Danny wouldn’t die. He couldn’t.
He made his last stitch and cut the thread. He grabbed a bag and disposed of everything inside it. He was about to put the first aid kit away when he thought about putting a bandage on top of Danny’s stitches.
He pulled a bandage and some gauze out of the first aid kit and when he turned back around Danny’s eyes were already open, staring at Dash.
“You’re awake already?” Dash whispered. “I wasn’t sure- I was afraid that-”
Danny shook his head. “My healing powers are already working. It just needed help getting started. It can’t heal if it’s still bleeding so much like that.”
Dash let out a deep breath. “I’m glad to hear.”
A pause stretched between them and Dash looked down at his hands and saw the gauze and bandage he was holding. He held them up.
“Do you want these on there too? Would it help?”
Danny nodded. “They’ll help make sure I don’t bleed into my clothes.”
Dash nodded back at him. “Your shirt looks pretty bad too. Do you want one of mine?”
Danny shrugged. “Sure.”
He set the bandage and gauze down on the bed and headed to his dresser. He pulled out a shirt and turned back around to see Danny pulling his shirt off.
Heat rose to Dash’s face and the comments Phantom made that first time Dash helped him came to mind. Tucker’s laugh echoed inside his head.
Man, you’re not gonna live this one down.
Sam and Tucker must know. That’s why they were being so weird that night.
He sat down at the edge of his bed and looked at Danny. He peeled the back of the bandage off and put it over Danny’s stitches. He spread his hand out over it, pressing the edges down, making sure they were sticking to Danny’s skin properly.
“Can you sit up?” Dash asked. Danny nodded and pushed himself up, wincing.
Dash leaned closer to Danny and started winding the gauze around his torso. Once he was done, he looked up to see Danny’s face only a few inches from his own.
They stared at each other for a few moments before they both spoke at once.
“I’m sorry.”
Both of their eyes widened. Dash sat up.
“Why are you sorry? I was literally the one wailing on you for so long.”
Danny shook his head. “I lied to you. I never told you who I was. I could see the way you looked at me, but I didn’t think you’d look at me like that if you knew I was also Danny.”
Dash flushed. “You could tell.” He breathed out.
“Yeah I could.” Then he rolled his eyes. “And if I couldn’t, Tucker would’ve made sure I knew anyway.”
“Tucker knows too?” Dash whispered. He didn’t think anyone could see his developing feelings for Phantom. He thought they just would have assumed it was because he was Phantom’s biggest fan.
“Yeah. No offense, but it was pretty obvious. Especially if even I could tell.”
Dash groaned and covered his face with his hands as he leaned back onto his bed. He felt Danny lean over to look down at him. Dash opened his eyes.
Danny met his eyes. His eyes traveled down his face to his lips. He slowly bent down and pressed his lips against Dash’s. Dash closed his eyes again and after a few seconds Danny pulled away.
“It helped that I was looking for it, though.”
Dash smiled up at him. “You did call me cute that one time.”
Now it was Danny’s turn to groan. “I don’t even know what I was thinking. I hardly even remember that.”
Dash placed a hand on the back of Danny’s head and pulled him back down and kissed him again.
“Did Tucker ever let you live it down?”
Danny laughed. “No. Of course not.”
“I bet it’ll be even worse now.” Dash said against Danny’s lips.
“Oh, you bet it will.”
Dash kissed Danny one more time and gently pulled him down to lay beside him.
#gorgi writes#danny phantom#dash baxter#danny fenton#sam manson#tucker foley#swagger bishie#fanfiction#phic phight 2024#fanfic#fic#phic
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Taylor has been lying on Joe since You’re Losing Me (Important Thread)
I’ve been confident in this theory since Midnights, but didn’t know how to spread it. Taylor is now blatantly lying about Joe and rewriting history. SHE was the one who didn’t want to get married, and Joe broke up with her over it. She chose fame over marriage, and the evidence is all over her music.
Ever since I heard “Mine” I instinctively knew Taylor was afraid of marriage. It’s the classic child-of-divorce case. “You say we’ll never make my parents’ mistakes.” / “Brace myself for the goodbye ‘cause it’s all I’ve ever known.”
Her fear of marriage continues throughout her discography. Don’t let “Lover” and “Paper Rings” fool you—those were false promises to Joe at the start of their relationship. Listen to “champagne problems,” a song she and Joe co-wrote. What couple writes a song about breaking up because the girl is terrified of marriage 4 years into their relationship? Why, one where that’s happening, of course. “Your Midas touch on the Chevy door,” aka how she always references Joe turning things to gold. And don’t forget “Renegade,” a song where in the music video SHE is the one anxiously staring out the window being told to “open the blinds.” (“Is it really your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything or do you just not want to?”, the lyric referring to Joe asking for marriage) This was a song written by Taylor from Joe’s perspective at the time. “I tapped on your window on your darkest night” (referring to Rep era) / “Starry eyes sparking up my darkest night.” … “And then you squeeze my hand as I’m about to leave.” (Joe’s POV) / “It’s on your face, don’t walk away, I need to say…” Taylor was the one always blowing up on him and then apologizing, as illustrated in Afterglow, The Great War, and most obviously her post-breakup behavior. Joe was NOT the volatile one of the two (also supported by articles released by her team, stating Joe’s personality was “great for Taylor” because “he is very calm”).
Then, just look at Midnights. The Bejeweled music video (which Taylor wrote and directed) is the clearest thing. A video all about choosing pop-stardom over a ring from a prince? While she and her boyfriend are having marriage disagreements? Hmmm. Interesting. Seriously, just go watch the intro to that video and tell me Taylor was the one fighting to get married behind the scenes.
Midnights lyrics: “He wanted a bride, I was making my own name. Chasing that fame.” (a person who WANTS to get married would NOT be writing this song!!!) “All they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride. The only kind of girl they see is a one night or a wife.” “No deal the 1950s shit they want from me. I just wanna stay in that lavender haze” “I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser.” “I have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money. She thinks I left them in the will.” (accompanied by elaborate scene displaying family-related anxieties in music video)
This is someone who is terrified of marriage and being an adult. I believe she launched herself into a fame-hug to avoid confronting her issues with Joe at this late stage in their relationship. After he broke up with her, she realized how deep of a mistake she made during the Eras Tour. Hence, the big lie in “You’re Losing Me” (which was written THEN, in 2023, conveniently dropped during the Matty Healy controversy) and her daring him to “say something” about the lie. (False God lyric: “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this, staring out the window like I’m not your favorite town.” When they fight, he was always the one ignoring her craziness.) And soon after, her peculiar surprise song choices on June 23: “Paper Rings” (“I’d marry you with paper rings”) and “If This Was A Movie” (“If this was a movie, you’d be here by now”).
The initial breakup article by People (Tree Paine’s mouthpiece) even outlines this story. “According to multiple sources, Swift and Alwyn had been ‘talking about marriage as recently as a few months ago.’ But at the end of the day, the couple wasn’t ready for a future together. ‘Taylor didn’t see them working out in the long run,’ says the insider.” This was before she wrote YLM, trying to provoke him, and now she will be driving it further with this new album I’m certain she wrote during 2023, NOT 2 years ago like she and Jack are trying to push. Her having Jack drop YLM’s “2021 date,” and then liking that tweet implying Sweet Nothing was not about Joe (when it was clearly about Joe)… she’s rewriting the narrative. You can’t trust a word she says.
#you are losing me#taylor swift#anti taylor swift#anti matty healy#joe alwyn#matty healy#the tortured poets department#midnight album#reddit#midnights
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Reviving Love
Jason Todd x Reader
Chapters
AO3
Chapter 10
Oh, my life is changing every day, in every possible way…
When Jason approached your door he heard that familiar song that brought back two vivid memories.
The first memory was the day he was supposed to help the art club paint the background for the school play. When he had walked into the auditorium with a basket of supplies, Bruce had insisted he bring it, and the song had been blaring full blast with a chorus of out-tune voices singing long. Yours’ among them. As he approached the stage, he finally saw you. You were knelt next to a huge wood tree, paintbrush in hand, and singing along to the lyrics.
And, oh, my dreams, it’s never quite as it seems—Never quite as it seems
He remembered suddenly feeling flush and stumbling to get all the words out of his mouth. All at once, he just found you so incredibly pretty.
The second time he had heard that song was his first year of high school, the autumn right before he died. It was homecoming and, after some begging since he was technically grounded, Bruce had let him go. Jason made a point not to tell you so it could be a surprise when he showed up. He found you standing off to the side looking heartbroken. When your eyes met it felt like one of those stupid high school romance movies. Where the room stopped and was drowned in a pink light with roses. When you kissed him he remembered how your breath smelled like cinnamon and your eyes sparkling in the lights.
Now, as he stood at your front door, he felt that same rush of feelings that made everything dizzy. Luckily, when you answered it brought back some of the senses he had lost while reminiscing. As you welcomed him in, the song still played.
I know I’ve felt like this before, but now I’m feelin’ it even more—Because it came from you...
“I’m sorry,” You said, walking past him to turn off the speaker. “I was a little lost in my tunes.”
“No worries, I like that song,” Jason admitted.
You turned to him, smiling. “You do?”
“Yup. I…danced with my prom date to that song.” It was a stretch of the truth, but the last thing he wanted was to connect the dots any further.
“Oh! I danced with my homecoming date to that song, too! I guess it’s pretty popular at school functions,” You laughed and motioned him to the kitchen.
That had been the first time you had referred to him, well the younger him anyway. When he entered the kitchen, you were leaning over a pot of some boiling pasta. Next to it was some sauce that he could only assume you had made from scratch with all the spices, herbs, and other things cluttering the counter.
“Do you mind trying some of this?” You asked, turning to look at him with a spoon in your hand.
Nodding, he stepped closer and put his lips to the spoon. It was awful, and he found it hard to tell you it sucked—Unfortunately, his face gave away his feelings. You laughed and it was beautiful.
“I admit, I’m not the greatest of cooks,” You said, putting the spoon down. “Do you cook?”
“I do, so maybe I could give you some pointers?”
You grinned. “Please?”
Everything you did was so sweet, and he was sure you weren’t even doing it on purpose. With every mistake you made or everyone he made, you laughed it off. You made the whole situation of essentially being the worst cook ever into something fun. You were kind enough to open your home to him, the worst person alive.
You were inching another forkfull of pasta towards his mouth, and, before he even entertained the idea of taking a bite, he said, “You know, if you keep feeding me, I’ll just keep coming back.”
The way you smiled gave away that he had said something good. Bashfully, you responded, “Well, what if I was trying to do that? Have you come back, I mean.”
Instead of saying anything, Jason took a bite of the pasta as he wiggled his eyebrows up and down at you. You took the hint and looked away so he wouldn’t see your blush. As you stirred the pasta a few more times, you wondered if he could hear how loud your heart was beating. You felt like an awkward teenager again.
“Um, we should eat,” You said, not sure what else to do as you moved around Jason to get to the bowls in the cabinet. “Or else I’ll be spending all night forking food into your mouth.”
“I wouldn’t complain—Hold on, let me get those,” He said, reaching above you to grab the bowls on the top shelf. He put one hand on the counter next to you, encasing you in, and pressing right up against your back to reach for the plate. As you sucked in a breath, you could smell him. Jason smelled of cigarette smoke and mint, an odd but welcoming combination.
As he put the bowls down, Jason stopped as you turned around. He hadn’t realized just how close you were, only mere inches from your lips, and he could have swooped down to seal in his feelings. Yet, he didn’t. You looked up through your lashes, eyes going to his lips, but made no move to kiss him.
“I should…” You trailed off, hoping he would do something.
A quick image flashed in Jason’s mind, one with you bent over the counter and him whispering just how pretty you were into your ear. As soon as the image came into his mind, he backed off. Smacking his face lightly when he turned away, he pulled his thoughts from his little head. He couldn’t get over how shallow it was to think of you in such a way, especially when couldn’t take that final step. It was too much, and he was terrified to be a disappointment to you since he had little to no experience.
You didn’t let him get away this time, though. You stepped around him, your fingers gingerly pushing his cheek to look at you, before stepping closer to him. He could feel your body press against his, and he had to think of every disgusting thing he had ever seen to not get hard. He tried focusing on the music he had insisted you turn on. This time, you looked down at his lips and then back up at his eyes, wanting him to know how you felt.
“I know,” You began, and Jason could smell just how sweet you were. “You want to take things slow, and I respect it—but, please, don’t tease me like this.”
“I…” Jason tried to find some excuse, but he couldn’t. Quickly, he said, “I’m sorry.”
You grinned, leaning up to press a ghost of a kiss to his cheek. “I hope this is okay?”
“Yes,” He breathed.
You smiled as you pulled away just enough to remember himself. You reached up, eyes not breaking away from his to make sure no lines were being crossed, to fix a bit of his shirt that had become wrinkled. “Do you think I’ll bite?”
“Maybe, can never be too sure in this city.”
You giggled. “I promise you I won’t. Unless you ask.”
Jason smiled and he saw you blush. He could do this, he thought, he could be with you. Maybe, he could figure out how to be good enough for you, too. In the background, he could hear Dreams playing again.
Then I open up and see the person falling here is me—A different way to be.
#jason todd#red hood#jason todd x reader#romance#bruce wayne#jason todd fanfiction#batfamily#jason todd x you#red hood x reader#jason todd red hood#jason todd needs a hug#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd fic#batfam#nightwing#alfred pennyworth#dick grayson
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so high school
˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ in which you run into your high-school sweetheart, darrel curtis.
( a/n : this isn’t my best work but not every piece has to be my fave! hope u cuties enjoy nonetheless, sorry i have no idea how to write darry )
his brown eyes met yours from across the classroom for the first time since grade 12.
your heart sank. you thought darry would’ve left by now, started his career as a successful football player or something even better, but he was standing in your classroom, still in tulsa.
your entire teenage years flash before your eyes — running on the field to kiss the quarterback, playing kiss marry kill, driving to parties, meeting his family. he looked the same.
darry’s eyes widen as he sees you. he elbows ponyboy. “you did not tell me that y/n l/n was your geography teacher.” he whispers.
“you’d of freaked if i had told you, man,” ponyboy whispers back.
tonight was parent-teacher interviews. one of your best students was ponyboy curtis, little brother of your high-school sweetheart. they were greasers, and you were a soc, but that never stopped you from going over to their house everyday, back when you were bittersweet 16.
“darry curtis,” you say softly, smiling gently. “long time no see.”
he avoids your gaze, his cheeks glowing pink. “yeah, nice to see you, y/n.”
“feel free to take a seat,” you offer, and they sit in front of your desk.
you begin talking about ponyboy — his incredible grades, your insistence on him participating more, assuring darry that ponyboy has a high chance of getting into a good post-secondary school.
you look at darry again. you have to address the elephant in the room — it would be weird not to. “this is weird, isn’t it?” you ask, voice soft. “i mean, we met in this school, and now i’m teaching your younger brother.”
“yeah, i guess so,” he agrees. “i honestly thought you would’ve left this dump by now, you always talked about wanting to move to new york city or toronto or somethin’.”
“yeah, plans changed.” you shrug. “i thought you would’ve moved by now, too.”
“plans changed,” he repeats, quoting you. you smile at him.
“what have you been up to since high school?” you ask him. “still play football?”
“i roof houses.” he answers. “but yeah, sometimes i fool around with football. not as much, though.”
“you were good,” you compliment.
“thanks,” he answers. he is never this awkward, what is happening? “you still into reading and history and stuff?”
“yeah,” you answer. “i mean, ponyboy can tell you, i never shut up about it when i’m teaching. always got a new book to talk about.”
and there we go. the conversation is back to ponyboy. “oh, that’s nice. pony only talks good about you. just never pieced together that it was you.”
“yeah, well, guess you thought i would’ve been gone by now.”
“guess so,” he agrees. “glad you’re not.”
you smile at him.
˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
the following weeks, you’d notice ponyboy talking to you a bit more whenever he could in class, talking to you about darry. and when you walked into the DX, sodapop asked if you were “darry’s chick,” and you had no idea how to respond.
flowers started blooming at the local park in your neighbourhood, so you decided to take a walk and pick some to decorate your classroom and decorate them for spring.
everything reminded you of him — you walked past a small punch of pink tulips. he got you tulips for your grade 11 semi-formal. he got them for a discount at the gas station, it was all he could afford. they were beautiful.
while you were walking, you spotted a gang of greasers. darry was with them, he was the tallest and stuck out like a sore thumb among the pink and yellow flowers and blossoming trees.
sodapop and ponyboy spotted you instantly, catching your eye and then telling the rest of the gang that you were here. they all excitedly started pressuring darry to go talk to you. you overheard the giggles and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.
darry walked up to you after a few moments of resistance. you looked stunning — your hair gently waving in the warm breeze, a handful of wildflowers in your grasp. and you were smiling at him!
“hi darry,” you greet. he starts walking beside you, leaving his friends behind.
“hey, y/n,” he says. his voice is deeper than it was when you knew him. “it was real nice seein’ you at ponyboy’s parent-teacher thing.”
you agree, and then he speaks again. “i just, uh, wanted to talk to you about something.”
“what about?” you ask with a tilt of your head.
“okay, so i know we dated back in high school and stuff,” he starts. “it was real fun. we had some good times.”
“yeah, we did.” you agree.
“do you want to try again?” he asks you. his muscular body and his intimidating looks would be nothing if you heard how he was speaking now. it felt wholesome, shy, like how he asked you out in high school.
you take a second to think. you remember how you felt when he took another girl to prom 3 weeks after you broke up, you remember how that hurt you and how you wanted to kill him. but you remember watching shows with him on saturday nights, you remember kissing in the backseat, you remember his mom, mrs. curtis, kissing you on the cheek the first time you met her. you remember cheering when he got a touchdown, you remember him kissing tears off your face when he got hurt in a rumble. you remember the good and the bad. and when you look back up at him, you feel so high school.
“yeah,” you say softly. “i would love that, darry.”
#🎀 announcements#the outsiders#the outsiders x reader#the outsiders headcanons#the outsiders darry#darry curtis headcanons#darry curtis#darry curtis fluff#darrel curtis fluff#darrel curtis#darrel curtis x reader#darry curtis x reader#darry curtis x y/n#darry curtis x you
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I hate you
Type: One shot
Pairing:Eris x Night court reader
Based off of this request
Smut- MDNI
I can feel the heir of Autumns breath mixing with mine as we stand panting, his body leaning over mine as he has me shoved against a tree, his hands locking mine above my head.
———
*earlier*
“Yn!”
“Oh- yes Rhys?”
“I’m so sorry to spring this on you so last minute but is there any chance you could go around the autumn borders? We’ve been getting reports of possible disruption. Eris should already know that someone would be coming.” His face is pulled into a half frown of sorts, his eyebrows pinched and eyes filled with apology. He knew just how much I hated Eris.
“Sure. I can do that for you.” I knew things were stressful for everyone after the war and Rhysand was no exception, I could put up with the prince for a little bit if it meant making his load even a little bit lighter. The high lord visibly relaxes, his shoulders slumping and his face showing nothing but appreciation.
“Great, thank you so much, I will tell him you will be there tomorrow morning?”
“Yes, yes. Let me go get my things packed.” With a nod of my head, I turn to leave making my way up the stairs and to my room. I quickly slip from my leathers, pulling my hair down from its up-do and walk towards the bathroom. The bathtub is already nearly full as I wash my face and brush my hair. I sink into the warm water, letting it sooth my muscles as I relax, a long breathe leaving my lips.
After finishing in the bath, and changing, I start to pack, taking the time to mentally prepare my self for my visit to Autumn.
‘It will be ok Yn. It’s only for a day, then you can come back and relax and spend some time with your family.
———
As I move across the borders, I spot the fiery hair of the heir. “Eris.” His name comes out a near hiss, the word leaving a bad taste in my tongue.
His signature smirk spreads across his face. “Yn.” And how are you in this fine day.
“Worse now that I’ve had to see your face.”
“Oh you love my face.”
A scoff passes my lips, “Yeah, and humans can fly.”
“What was that darling?”
“One- don’t call me that. Two- I thought we were telling lies?”
“Nope, no lies here princess.”
“Ugh.” An exasperated sigh leaves me as I begin walking through the woods of Autumn, looking at all the colors in the trees.
“Hey! I wasn’t done with you princess.” Eris winnows in front of me, blocking my path.
“Move out of my way Eris.”
“Make me.” The smirk is back, his eyes darkening as he moves forward causing me to take a step back.
“I-I’m serious Eris. Leave me alone.” I back up again, and again, and again. The cat and mouse game goes in for a moment before my back inevitably hits a tree. I look around the empty forest, my breath picking up.
“Oh, I don’t think I want to do that Princess.” His voice is a whisper in my ear as his hands roam down my sides, heat pooling in my panties. “And,” a nip to my ear lobe, “I don’t think you want that either.”
“G-get a-away from me.” But the truth is, I don’t want that, I don’t want him to leave. I can feel his natural heat radiating from his body as his lips slowly come to my neck. Kissing slowly up the side, to my jaw, the corner of my lips. He pauses.
“Tell me you want this princess.”
“I-I want this Eris. I want you.” Fuck, what did I just say! What demon has crawled in me and made me say these things, my mind is in a frenzy as his lips finally meet mine but I can’t help but kiss back. Our mouths molding together. A small moan leaves me as his fingers dance at the hem of my pants.
‘Stop it! Stop this right now! You hate him! I hate him!’ A voice screams at the back of my mind but I can’t find the ability to voice it, to actually make him stop. I know he would, I knew the truth. Eris was respectful, if I told him to stop, he would. I know he would. But I just can’t tell him too.
Eris’ hands find my own, sliding up my arms, pulling them above my head and locking them there.
‘Come on! Tell him to stop!’
‘I can’t. I can’t, feels to good. I like this.’
An inner war rages in my head as he sucks a mark just above the collar of my shirt, one hand leaving there place holding mine to find the hem of my pants, ripping them and my panties with a growl. I gasp as he does this, earning a chuckle from the fox.
“Stop.” I finally find my voice, it’s shaky but there.
“Oh? You want me to stop princess, his hand continues to trail to my dripping core.
“Stop. I hate this. I hate you!”
Another chuckle passed his lips as his fingers finally meet my clit. “Oh? It doesn’t seem like it?” Before I have time to even think of a response, his fingers are delving into my heat. I’m embarrassed of the moan that leaves me, nearly a scream. “All this for me princess?” His fingers leave me, my whole clenching around nothing. I pant as he brings them in between our faces. Marveling at the sight of my juices coating his fingers. “Open.”
And for some fucked up reason.
I listen.
My mouth drops open, tongue sticking out as he places his fingers in, I suck them in, my tongue swirling across them, greedily taking everything I can.
“Now that’s enough. Don’t be greedy now princess.” It’s like he reads my fucking mind. I hate it. But at the same time. I love it. Love this. He takes a moment to quickly shed off his layers, I do the same, taking off my shirt and bra, seeing as my pants had already been stripped from me.
My mouth waters at the sight of his pulsing cock, a drop of precum falling from its tip. I’m flipped around, my bare breasts scraping across the bark of the tree as I feel him like up with my entrance, teasingly sliding through my folds as a whine of protest leaves me. He chuckles as he shoves in to the hilt with one strong thrust.
“Fuck!” He sets a strong pace, pulling out to the tip and pushing in till his pelvis meets mine. “Eris, eris. Ah fuck Eris.” His name leaves me like a chant as he continues his brutal pace, grunts and groans from him mixing with my moans and whimpers.
“You feel so good around my cock princess, so tight, sucking me in so good. Ugh you sound so beautiful to, chanting my name.” His pace gets more rapid as he pulls my hair, forcing my head up, eyes meeting mine.
“I’m close.” I can barely hear it myself, surprised when he responds.
“Me too princess, me too.” His thrusts get sloppy as I feel the spring tighten before snapping, white blurring my vision as hot waves of pleasure roll over me. “Good girl.” And with one final thrust, he cums, filling my dummy walls with his seed, a growl leaving him.
A whine leaves me as he pulls out, “Rhys is gonna kill me.” He chuckles at my words before pulling his clothes on, magicing my clothes back together and on my body. “Can we just like, say we looked around.”
“Oh princess, I made those fake reports. I just wanted to see you.”
“Oh? And what if Az or Cass had come. Would they be up against a tree, getting fucked by the price of Autumn?” I turn around, shirt falling over my head, “it’s ok, I support.” I smirk as he shakes his head.
“I knew he’d send you. Now you’d better get home before we get in trouble.” I nod, turning to leave before he stops me, his hand coming to my chin, pulling my face to look into his eyes. He leans forward, his lips meeting mine for another kiss, this one slow and tender, loving and soft.
———
As I finally arrive home, I walk to the dining room to find my family. All trying to hide laughs, Cassian failing miserably. “What? What is it?”
“You reek of Eris. Not to mention the uh.. marks of claim.” He snickers as Nesta slaps him, smiling as well.
“Well I think he smells lovely.” I can’t think of any other retort as I sit down, piling food onto my plate.
—————
Thank you anon for the request! This was very fun to write and I hope it meets your standards and hopes! Love y’all and thank you for alllll the requests I’m getting, I haven’t done it before so I didn’t realize it posted all the responses and now I can only link them. That will be different in the future I promise!
#acotar x reader#azriel x reader#acotar#azriel#elain archeron#elain x reader#feyre archeron#feyre x reader#nesta archeron#nesta x reader#cassian#cassian x reader#eris x reader#eris vanserra#night court#smut#eris smut
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Cole Brookstone Headcannons
warnings: slight cussing? mentions of racial stereotypes/discrimination
General
He was the sexiest man alive 3 years in a row
He also dabbled in modeling
he didn't even try either, a modeling agent saw him and gave him a business card
Cole went to one interview, the next thing he knows he's walking down the runway with Bella Hadid
he's a thought son
does a lot of stuff on social platforms to spread awareness for racial discrimination, politics, and cancer reaserch
if they were to have BLM protests in Ninjago, he would throw tear gas back at cops
He has the BIGGEST resting bitch face ever
obviously he loves cake, but he loves brownies with caramel drizzle and a sprinkle of sea salt on top even more than he loves cake
he really loves Dolly Partons Carmel Turtle mix
Gossip/debrief sessions with Nya are a weekly occurrence
He loves Dolly Parton in General
He only drinks water
He HATES those "make my water of the day with me" videos
like JUST DRINK WATER THROUGH OUT THE DAY!?! HELLO?!
the reason Nya was so confused abt Jay vs Cole in season 3/4/5 is because of how close Nya and Cole already were
But after she stepped away from both of them and thought about her relationship with each of them, she realized Cole was like a sister to her
And I mean sister
She's never had a sister before but her relationship with Cole is exactly how she imagines sister relationships
Nya introduces him as her sister and he's chill with it
He works out with Kai
but unlike Kai, Cole LOVES rest days
he goes to yoga 3 or 4 times a week and is besties with his yoga instructor Andy
Andy and her girlfriend got married and he went to the wedding, that's how close they are
I feel like he's friends with a lot of lesbians
idk they just kinda gravitate towards him
Cole is 6'3
he's also black
he has snake bite piercings
his mom's favorite tree was a maple tree, so he got a maple leaf tattooed behind his right ear
his mom would always tuck his braids or dreads behind his right ear.
he also has a hand tattoo that looks something like this:
I'm not saying Ninjago has a lot of racial stereotypes or discrimination
but, when they see 6'3, muscular, tatted, pierced, black. resting bitch face Cole walking down the street people tend to label him as scary or dangerous
because of this he's always afraid of coming off as creepy or weird when he tries to talk to someone
Dating
His body is so large, solid, and muscular and it's perfect for hugs and cuddling
He doesn't care about cuddling position- if you guys are comfortable and can fall asleep, its perfect
his favorite place to kiss is your forehead and your shoulders
his love language is acts of service
"my room is too bright in the morning, even with my blinds shut" the next day he has blackout curtains installed
"I always hit my head on that one cabinet" idk how but thanks to his handy work you no longer bump your head on that cabinet
"I wish my kitchen had sodalite counters" You have sodalite counters now(the good thing is, it was mostly free too, he just used his earth powers to find enough sodalite for your counter)
You guys met when the ninjas went out to a restaurant to celebrate whatever victory they had just had
and because he's used to being stereotyped as scary or weird for the way he looks, when you approached him to ask for his number he was shocked and supprised
he was happy about it tho because he had been glancing at you the whole time the team was at the restaurant
You're first date? Mini golfing.
He's been thinking about the perfect first date FOR. YEARS.
why is mini golfing the perfect first date?
Public setting for both parties feeling safe
mini golfing is fun and fairly inexpensive
mini golfing provides plenty of time to talk and chat, but if an awkward moment arises there's something to do
done golfing and now we're hungry?
cheap and decent food inside
done eating but don't want to end the date?
most mini golf places have arcades
AND most arcade games are meant for 2 people
want to take some cute photos?
Most arcades have photo booths for taking cute pics
Cole has been planing a mini golfing first date for years, and just needed someone with the right energy to do it with
Romcom type relationship
You guys meet in a cute romcomy way, have a cute romcomy first date, then you have some sort of romcomy problem, then work things out and live happily ever after
I feel like the romcomy problem wouldn't be very romcomy tho, maybe you guys met before he was a ghost, and him being a ghost was the problem you worked through?
he would keep 1 flower from every boquet he gives to you so he knows when the bouquet is dying, then he gets you fresh flowers
You always have fresh flowers from him, for the entirety of ur relationship
he's a thought son so you would stay up talking about what you guys want your future to look like
He's used to you waking him up in the middle of the night because he was snoring
He gives great advice, but before he gives it he asks if you want comfort or advice
he's also really good at comforting you
he just knows exactly how to make you feel safe and understood
you'd go to yoga with him, Andy and her girlfriend(now wife) would love you
if you guys did want kids, Cole would be the perfect dad
Physical touch is his 2nd love language, but he doesn't rlly like PDA
most touches in public are pinky or hand holding(he would do the thumb thing), putting his hand on the small of your back when going through crowds, maybe a peck on the temple here and there
but in private he can't get his hands off you
he just wants to touch you in any and every way possible
he's infatuated by you
he sends you tiktoks of an orange cat(him) and some other cat(color/type depending on ur personality) and says us
he sends you couple trends and says "we should do this"
"if I every won the lottery, oh wait, I already did" yeah. he did that, first 2 slides were him, and the other 30 were pics of you
"oh that's pretty, imma take a picture" yep.
he has life 360 with you
not in a weird way, obvi, in like a oh this fun way
You're like the parents of the team
Jay and Nya are the uncle and aunt
In another universe the four of you are drinking wine and talking about how annoying some coworkers have been recently
#ninjago cole#cole brookstone#ninjago#ninjago headcanons#cole brookstone headcannons#ninjago cole headcannons
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alright you’ve been extremely extremely kind and indulgent to me about my oc and i cannot possibly thank you enough <333333 so MY turn now to ask YOU about YOURS. please tell me about maglor’s distant granddaughter who is also your bbeg?? .w. or about the chatty hobbits i would very VERY much love to hear about both!!!
~ @nelyoslegalteam, reporting from main <3
(long post, sorry for the random people stumbling upon this lol)
so I'm the dm for the chatty hobbits campaign and essentially it's set in a beleriand-adjacent continent, but with a few extra races and stuff. of the founders of the original settlements, the king of elende (the elf kingdom) is Gil-galad's (invented for the campaign) twin brother Finellach/Finwain. originally he was inspired by the fact that gil galad has a ton of names but only uses ereinion/gil, so I just invented a new character and gave him half the names. I headcanon gil galad as maglor's son, so finwain is in universe maglor's son (left at the havens with gil bc his wife divorced him for kinslaying and his kingdom, being next door neighbors with morgoth, is far too dangerous for small children).
Anyways, his descendant Elinyel (also known as aramire or elinnor) is the current queen of Elende! she's an evil fire-themed bard who is extremely feanorian in all the worst ways - her actual kingdom prospered under her reign, but she just does not care about everyone else as long as she's protecting her people. There were some tensions with one of the major kingdoms to the north (conflict over unclaimed territory between the kingdoms and some tariff stuff), so instead of risking the other kingdom starting a war and hurting her people, she just preemptively invaded it and started burned all the border territories to the ground.
her actual coronation was pretty weird- so she's the second child, but her older sister was born in wartime and there's a general belief in elende that children of peacetime make better rulers, so Elinyel was chosen as her family's heir. her grandfather (the crown prince of his generation) died defending Elende in one of the major wars, but his younger brother and two young kids survived. there's a whole feud between their houses because the brother chose to retain the kingship even after the kids were old enough to take the throne. anyways, two generations later Elinyel killed her cousin Arendil (the previous king of Elende) over a dispute about the legitimacy of his house (and what she believed to be a dishonoring of her grandparents' sacrifice) and took the throne.
obviously she has many Issues. arendil also has two surviving kids who are now essentially trying to stop her from murdering all their neighbors in proactive defense of her people.
however, when she first ascended she recruited her friend group as her elite guard/vassals of the kingdom. (aka the other bosses in the storyline). so it escalated to a war between her forces and the children of arendil, which ultimately culminated in her beloved sister being killed by one of arendil's children. this in turn led to her having basically a massive mental breakdown and feeling like she failed to protect her loved ones (exacerbated by some of her other friends being killed in battles she led). a normal person might decide this is was kind of her fault for starting a war and putting her friends in charge of the army. instead she decided she needed to destroy everyone who could ever potentially pose a threat. which is, in her eyes, literally everyone on the continent (except for her kingdom, of course).
so now she is at war with absolutely everyone of all factions! She is also somehow winning by virtue of Song almost on the level of maglor himself, and ten (now six) also incredibly powerful friends. Anyways, she has decided that the best way to wipe out the continent (except her kingdom) and start fresh is to literally find an ancient lost stone that can break the Doors of Night, summon Morgoth himself, and start the Dagorath. obviously this will Not go well for anyone at all if she succeeds, but she is on a full-on rampage and genuinely believes she (plus friends) can protect her kingdom from Morgoth's army while he wipes out everyone else.
Here's some old art of her btw!
And some slightly more recent unfinished art of her and the Evil Friend Group from when they were younger:
and here's (L-R) her cousin who is the 3rd boss, Elinyel, and her sister from before the war!
#asks#THANK YOU FOR THIS BTW#i only have 1 friend irl who plays dnd and is also not affiliated with the campaign#and they aren't a silm person#so i cannot talk w anyone irl about the Lore#one of the few kingdoms who could really oppose her is the magic one#bc max level wizards might as well be ainur and the monarch of the magic kingdom is Very Powerful#however. said monarch is also the twin sibling of one of elinyel's friends#(who is also an evil lich now and also maybe dating a diff friend who is an evil sorceror? not sure of details yet)#so the super powerful battlemage monarch is remaining Politically Neutral so they don't have to fight their literal evil twin#currently the party is level 6 and just defeated the very-weakened wraith of one of the friends#she was a druid but sort of decayed when she was corrupted and was kidnapping untrained/low level sorcs as servants to siphon power from#and also living in the Grove of Resurrection in order to stay intact#i forgot her dialogue while running the battle so while i looked through my docs i just had her say 'loading please wait' lol#also more chatty hobbit stuff#the grove is a huge grassy area with a walking tree in the middle#so the whole thing is constantly roaming aroudn#the wraith-druid had her castle built on it so she could have a moving castle that also heals her#the grassy part will resurrect any dead thing put on it#for the battle they had to drag her off the grass in order to kill her#technically shes been dead for some years but is surviving via constant contact w the grove#the hobbit (Shade) is from the Alder family who has historically been the guardians of the grove#he discovered he could talk to the tree in the middle and immediately started trying to figure out a way he could use the grove to#clone one of the party members#the tree does not approve of intentionally cutting off people's arms to see if it regenerates into a clone lol#oh! and they found anglachel in the grove. the dragonborn monk wants to keep it
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has anyone else who plays skyblock ever experienced like. someone tries to do an ~Epic Troll~ on you where they try to disrupt whatever your grinding (mining ur ores, killing ur mobs, etc) but they're so hilariously bad at it that THEY end up raging and leaving the lobby
#i've had this happen in the jungle park where some dude followed me around trying to break MY trees#before i could get to them. but like... we were the only two in that section#he couldve just. ran on the opposite side to me and we wouldve been fine#but no he wanted ***my*** trees. only the ones i was walking to#but then he got mad and left. man even had his atoe and i was just walking jkfhdgjk#also in the dwarven mines *a lot*... dont think they realize how fast my mining speed is#but also ppl HATE bingo players oh my god#but like. they're so bad at being annoying#you are in full dragon armor with a fot and runaan's and you cant beat my 600 coin shortbow? L#anyways im at 83k bones i think im gonna get it 😎#i have 9 t7 minions all with medium storages. i should get roughly 12k in the morning (accounting for my pet's perk)#chat#sb
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Saw 4 SEPARATE SPECIES OF BUG IN MY STUPID APARTMENT TODAY (none of them were bed bugs at least but they were some of the other bug species I loathe and fear the most) I know the fact that its really hot is probably the main reason they're being so active and getting in here, but God damn I'm already crawling through zillow to find my next apartment and I've still got 11 months in this lease. If I ever see a cave cricket in this house with my own two eyes I'm breaking the fuckin lease tho I can promise you that
#please god let autumn and winter here be peaceful#also ive definitely learned my lesson about cheap rent and older homes#i was so enamored by the historic crown molding and original floors when i toured this place that i didnt notice the cracks and holes#methinks i will go for a newer renovation next time#budget be damned#i also might try further out of the city like northwest#but i dont think the bf will be into that#(even though he really liked the house my parents lived in when we started dating WHICH WAS IN ALMOST THE EXACT AREA IM LOOKING)#i didnt like that neighborhood that much bc there were no trees but in the neighborhood just northeast of there#its more tree lined and spread out#and theres a really nice luxury apartment building thats got big units within our budget and its only a 5min walk from the train#but his response to that one was 'i dont want to spend 6 buckd getting to work every day' well bitch. you only work 3 days a week#and its only 4 bucks so shut up#ive decided that if he doesnt help me find a new apartment then he doesnt get any input bc he didnt help me find this place#and look how that turned out#all he did was veto most of my ideas#he didnt lift a finger to contribute#well thats not completely true he did suggest a lot of apartments but they were all ones id already vetted#and he didnt help with lease negotiations at all
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