#chasing cars ch 1
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Chasing Cars | ch 1 (jjk)
☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female!reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: alcohol, curses, jungkook is lowkey a cocky asshole but we love him, mentions of ghosting (reader to Hoseok), mentions of frosh week, mentions of Nabi spraining her ankle, a frat party, beer pong, Sam Hwang, peach, explicit content: overhearing someone having sex, female masturbation, sex toy (vibrator), praising, nipple play, hickeys, dom!Hoseok, sub!reader, degradation, Hoseok likes being called sir (lmao), whip (sorta, with a belt), choking (with a belt), safe word, oral sex (male receiving), mouth fucking, balls fondling, jerking off, spitting in the other's mouth, Hoseok does not believe in aftercare (rip)
☆word count: 11.8k
☆a/n: CHAPTER ONE!! LET'S GET THIS JOURNEY STARTED BABY!!! thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Thursday, January 19th
If there is one thing you’ve figured about Jeon Jungkook, it’s that he is an insufferable prick, yet an endearing one. As your older brother’s best friend, Jungkook has taken a liking to teasing you, treating you like his own little sister. It was weird at first – the day you met him, you were struck by his looks. Who wouldn’t be? Jungkook is tall, has a sleeve of tattoos, and he rocks an eyebrow and two lip piercings.
It took you all but three days to realize that he is a too full of himself asshole. And had you known what you were signing up for when Taehyung suggested that you move in with him when his friend Jimin moved out to live with his girlfriend, maybe you wouldn’t have accepted.
You love Taehyung. He’s an incredible brother, has always taken care of you when you were younger and your mother was never home to do so. You love him enough that you didn’t mind moving in with him even though there was a third party you didn’t know.
Jungkook, that is.
It’s been months now. Months of living with Jungkook, of waking up to his insufferable smirk and even worse teasing, whenever Taehyung is not around. Because, of course, when your brother is here Jungkook is an angel, never once saying anything to you that could be taken the wrong way.
Thing is, Taehyung has always dreamed of studying abroad, in Paris. Has always wished to experience the French lifestyle, to wake up to eat croissants and gaze at the Eiffel Tower in the distance. So when he got the opportunity to do his winter semester over there, of course he jumped on the chance.
You’ve been living alone in the same apartment as Jeon Jungkook for less than a month and you already wish May to be at your door and for Taehyung to come back.
It’s late. Sometime close to two am, and the bed creaking in the room next to yours, the one banging into the wall, has been keeping you up.
Or maybe the intermittent high-pitched clipped moans are what are keeping you up. Because, mind you, the walls of your apartment are paper-thin. So paper-thin sometimes you think you’re in Jungkook’s room while he’s ramming some girl he probably doesn’t even know the name of. Sometimes, you think you can almost picture him. Almost see the muscles of his back move under his skin as he jack-hammers into yet another girl, almost see his powerful thighs slap on hers each time he pushes in, almost see his fucked-out face when he comes with that loud grunt of his…
You miss Taehyung being around because Jungkook wasn’t as loud then. Still brought girls home every Thursday like clockwork, but made sure he wasn’t loud enough for the whole building to hear him. With Taehyung gone, Jungkook has stopped caring, and you have been suffering the consequences since then.
In truth, it hasn’t been that long. Less than three weeks, and you’ve heard Jungkook fuck like four times? You reckon it could be a lot worse… but he could also be respectful and not fuck people when you’re trying to sleep because you have a nine am class the next day.
The first time it happened, you were mortified. You listened to music, hoping you wouldn’t hear it anymore but, the thing is, his headboard bangs against the same wall your headboard is against. So you still felt it, and you suffered through the whole ordeal hoping you would disappear through the floor.
The second time it happened, you were annoyed. You considered knocking against the wall to tell him to shut the fuck up – or rather to tell the girl to shut the fuck up – but you resisted. Solely because you didn’t want to stir shit with Jungkook. You considered asking Taehyung to tell Jungkook to be more respectful, but it sounded childish and stupid so you eventually let it slide.
The third time it happened, you were… aroused. Maybe because it had been a long time since you had sex – the last time being in late November with Hoseok, a guy studying in the same major as you, though he’s Jungkook and Taehyung’s age. Yet, even though you felt aroused, you focused on all the ways you were going to murder Jungkook the next day.
Today… today the arousal is winning the game. It’s been making your heart run wild, and your grip on your sheets has your knuckles turning white, skin stretched taut over how hard you’re clenching your fists.
And when you hear Jungkook say something that definitely sounds like “Good fucking girl”, you lose it. You’re too aroused, dripping from just hearing him, and you need to have the coil inside of you snap if you want to be able to sleep tonight.
With all the sounds emerging from his room, you doubt Jungkook is going to hear you. So you shamelessly rummage through the top drawer of your night table, searching for your vibrator, smiling in victory when your hand closes around it.
You’re wearing PJ shorts, and you quickly rid yourself of them as the girl lets out a short-clipped moan that makes you think you’re listening to porn, and not to your roommate fucking.
Though you reckon sex with Jungkook really does sound like porn.
You lie back in bed once you’re rid of your shorts, taking a hold of your vibrator. You turn it on, adjusting it to your favourite setting. You feel strange doing so, like you’re doing something you really shouldn’t be doing, but you can’t help it.
The second you press the vibrator on your clit, you forget all about how what you’re doing is wrong. All you can focus on is the pleasure that radiates through your body, and your eyes close tightly, images of Jungkook swirling in your brain.
When the girl moans again, and Jungkook tells her that she’s ‘taking it so well’, your free hand shoots to your breast, pinching your nipple through the fabric of your t-shirt. It’s not enough, and you’re quick to move it under the shirt. You pinch hard, and you let out a breathy sound as your thighs instinctively close on your wrist.
Jungkook’s headboard starts banging against the wall even more, and your brain produces an image of Jungkook between your legs, fucking you until all you can think is his name. It has you pushing your vibrator inside of you, and you lightly moan again at the pleasurable intrusion.
You let go of your nipple, moving that hand to your clit instead, and your fingers expertly start drawing circles on it. You listen to Jungkook’s grunts all along, to the girl’s moans, and maybe you’re a little too blissed out to realize they’re done, but when you reach your high you can’t help the broken moan you let out, a little too loud for the paper-thin walls of your apartment.
As you’re coming down from your high, you realize the apartment is eerily silent, and you swallow the lump of awkwardness that’s formed in your throat. You wipe your vibrator with some tissue, knowing you’ll have to actually clean it on the morrow, but you don’t want to kill the silence of the night just so you can put your vibrator back in its hiding spot right away.
But you’re not stupid, and you know you need a trip to the bathroom anyway. You put your PJ shorts back on, grab your phone to use it as a flashlight so you don’t bump into a wall on the way to the bathroom, and you tiptoe all the way over there, hoping to be as soundless as possible.
You have to walk in front of Jungkook’s room to get to the bathroom, and then halfway across the living room. You notice his door is closed on your way, and you peacefully make it all the way to the bathroom. You quickly pee and clean yourself up, washing your hands before you open the door.
Which, you reckon might have been your demise. Because when you open the door of the bathroom, it’s to let out a high-pitched startled yelp at the sight of a shirtless Jungkook on the other side. The sound of the faucet must have hidden his footsteps.
You stare at each other for a few seconds, and in the dim light, you’re pretty sure Jungkook is smirking.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks after the silence has started to stretch into awkwardness.
You clench your jaw, gaze dropping to the ground. “You were disturbing my sleep.”
He chuckles, cocking his head to the side. “Was I now?”
Your eyes shoot back to his face at the low huskiness of his tone, and you wish with all of your heart that you had the courage to punch him in the face. But you don’t, so all you reply is, “You need to start fucking your hookups somewhere else.”
His smirk falls into a pout. “I won’t go over to the girls’ places. But I can make sure they’re more silent next time.”
Your brain can’t help but wonder if he means ‘they’ as in he was fucking two girls or just they as in generally referring to a single person.
You obstinately remain silent for a moment, holding his gaze with surprising defiance. “Please do,” you finally choose to say, and the smirk makes its way back to his features.
“I promise,” he says, voice low once again, and you hate how it has something tightening inside of you once more.
You hate it so much that you escape, wishing him good night as you walk around him. You feel the warmth of his body on the way, and you’re thinking about ways to stab him in the back when he says, “Sleep well, peach.”
Saturday, January 21st
You’ve taken to referring to last Wednesday night, or early Thursday morning, as The Incident. At least that’s what you call it when you talk about it with your friends, Ria and Nabi. Ria, who’s always had some sort of a crush on Jungkook is absolutely flabbergasted each time it’s mentioned, and Nabi thinks he’s proven that he’s the biggest asshole in college.
You relate to both, and mostly agree with Nabi.
You’re supposed to go to some party later tonight. Ria convinced you to pre-drink at the girls’ dorm before you go, considering it’s closer to the party than your apartment, and the three of you are sitting in a circle on the floor, with music playing in the background. Needless to say, Nabi has been complaining ever since you got there, because she doesn’t usually do parties, and Ria is so excited she’s got you convinced that tonight will be the best night of your life.
Almost.
“Shots?” Ria asks as if you haven’t already taken two shots each.
She’s holding the bottle of tequila up, a red flush to her cheeks and mischief lighting her gaze. You don’t find it in you to say no, because you know that without the tequila Nabi is never going to make it to the party.
“Let’s do this,” you say, offering her a smirk as Nabi hides her face in her hands.
“You girls are going to kill me,” she complains.
“Come on,” Ria says, playfully pushing her on the shoulder. “Maybe that cute guy you like is going to be there!”
Nabi has had a crush on someone from your major, Kim Namjoon, ever since you met her at the beginning of Frosh week last semester. He’s a tall guy, with dimples whenever he smiles, and you can see why she’d have a crush on him. Thing is, Namjoon has been dating someone ever since then, and Nabi has just been suffering in silence.
You still remember the moment you saw the crush bubble to life. It was day three of Frosh Week, and Namjoon was in charge of your team, along with Hoseok. You, Nabi, and three other first years were winning the relay race, figuring out the puzzles so quickly you had a good advance on the other teams. In a leap of happiness, Nabi jumped over a small stone wall on campus. One of her feet got tangled, and she ended up spraining her ankle.
Namjoon had been right by her side, asking her if she was okay. And Nabi has been in love with him ever since that day, though she’d never dare say it aloud.
“I don’t like anyone,” she grumbles, but the way her cheeks flush red is telling.
“Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon,” you singsong, offering her a shit eating grin.
She retaliates by saying, “When’s the last time you’ve fucked Hobi? Didn’t you say he was the best lay of your life?”
Your mouth falls open in surprise, and Ria lets out a loud laugh.
“We stopped fucking in November, you know that!” you burst, feeling yourself turning crimson. “And it’s not like I have a crush on him, I stopped because it felt like he had a crush on me.”
Nabi has a winning smile on her lips. “And what’s so bad about that?”
“I mean…” you trail off, shrugging your shoulders. “The sex was good, but I didn’t feel like dating him. Simple as that.”
“Why not?” Ria asks, tequila forgotten. “You never told us.” She adds a pout to her sentence, trying to get you to explain.
There’s no explanation. You just didn’t feel like it. You tell them as much, but Nabi doesn’t buy it. Ria, on the other hand, lets out a sound that has both you and Nabi startling.
“I know why!” she explains.
You cock an eyebrow. “Why?”
“You live with fucking Jeon Jungkook, of course you don’t want to date Hobi. Especially after The Incident.”
You laugh, as it’s just as ridiculous as you expected it to be. “Not at all. Jungkook is Tae’s best friend.”
Both your friends look at you, as if what you said was the stupidest shit they ever heard.
“What?”
“What does it change?” Nabi asks with a small voice.
“Well,” you let out, because you don’t really know. It’s just weird to you, and you don’t know how to explain it. “For one, I’m pretty sure Tae would kill him if he ever laid a finger on me.”
“Tae is in Paris,” Ria innocently says.
“Irrelevant,” you say, chuckling. “He’s going to be back in just a few months.”
“A lot can happen in a few months,” she adds, wiggling her brows suggestively.
You roll your eyes before reaching out between the two of you. “Give me the tequila.”
“I’ll fuck him if you don’t,” she teases, and she cradles the tequila to her chest. “As a matter of fact, maybe I’ll try to fuck him tonight.”
“Have fun!” is all you answer before making grabby hands at her. “Now, give me the alcohol, let’s get plastered before we get there so we don’t have to drink the crappy frat booze.”
*****
The frat house hosting the party is wild. Has always been – you’ve always found they go too far with most of their parties. But they also host the most memorable parties, and you know tonight will be a blast the moment you set in to see the strung LED light, shining different patterns of colours around the main room. A table in the corner is stacked high with every bottle of hard alcohol imaginable, and there are three coolers you assume are holding beer or something of the sorts.
One of the guys – Dave? – shows you three where you can leave your coats, on a bed in the upstairs bedroom, and then he walks you to the alcohol table, offering to pour you some shots.
Nabi giggles, because by the time you left their dorm, she got quite drunk, claiming she needed it if she were to run into Namjoon after what you and Ria had said. She accepts the shot she’s handed, though half of it has spilled on her hand by the time the guy gives you yours. He puts salt on your hands, carefully, as Ria makes fun of Nabi, and you look around, scanning the crowd. You recognize a few people from your class, along with the usual party crowd of your college. You smile at two guys you’ve spoken to before at least once, before resuming your attention on Dave (?) as he hands you a slice of lemon.
When the four of you are ready, you lick the salt, knock back the shot, and then bite in the lemon to chase the taste of tequila away. It’s cheap tequila, and even with lemon the taste lingers while you prepare vodka cranberries for you and your friends. And though Ria loves dancing, you and Nabi win as you choose to head to the kitchen, where you know the music isn’t usually as loud.
The first thing you notice when you enter the kitchen is the beer pong table in the middle. Jeon Jungkook is currently playing, along with Jimin, another of your brother’s friends. As he sees you, Jimin raises his glass, offering you a wide grin, and then he punches Jungkook in his side before motioning to you.
Jungkook notices you then, and he offers you a smirk as he eyes you up and down. You feel shy for half a beat, though you know you look good. You’re wearing a green corset along with a pair of black leather pants, and you know the two pieces of clothing hug your body perfectly. Plus, Ria did your makeup, and Ria never fails when it comes to makeup. So you wait as Jungkook looks at you, hoping the foundation Ria put on your face is thick enough for him not to see you blush as The Incident inevitably comes back to your mind.
You look away, and then you see Hoseok hovering by glass sliding doors, along with Namjoon and their other friend Yoongi. Hoseok is busy with a conversation, and when he bursts out laughing you can hear it clear as day.
Why didn’t you want to date him? You don’t know. You actually really don’t know, because he ticks off all the boxes. But something was missing, you presume, and sometimes you hate yourself for it.
He must have sensed your attention, and he turns his head towards you. You don’t miss the way his smile falls a little, and he nods once in recognition. When you smile, his mouth closes to offer you one of those awkward tight-lipped smiles, and your gaze drops away to the cup in your hand.
Of course, Ria has a nefarious plan in mind, because she hooks her arm with yours and Nabi’s, pulling you towards the trio of guys. You’re fully aware that it’s mostly for Nabi, and that it’s stupid because last you’ve heard, Namjoon is still dating his girlfriend, but you let your friend pull you towards the men, gaze still stubbornly hiding in your cup.
You watch the liquid slosh around as you stop in front of them, and Namjoon greets you. Hoseok falls eerily silent, and Yoongi asks you all how you’ve been doing.
You only join in the conversation when you’ve taken a long sip from your cup to ease your nerves. Not that it really helped, but you reckon just standing there in silence would probably make things more awkward than anything else.
“Nabi is pretty drunk,” Ria is saying when you finally look up from the cup.
“Am not!” Nabi insists, voice slurred. “Or maybe just a little.”
Namjoon laughs, while Yoongi chuckles. “As long as you don’t fall and sprain your ankle again, I think you’re alright.”
“Won’t fall again,” Nabi promises. “Not with these two with me.” She says that motioning to you and Ria, and it somehow brings Namjoon’s attention to you.
“I saw your essay on the synthesis and control of energy metabolism,” he tells you, a dimpled smile on display. “It was pretty good.”
You can’t help but slide your eyes to Nabi, who wrote a far better essay on human health and bacteriophage in your opinion, and you don’t miss the way her gaze drops to the ground.
“Thanks,” you reply to Namjoon nonetheless.
He’s started TA-ing to help out Seokjin, one of the biochemistry grad students. All of you are biology students, except Ria and Yoongi. Ria is in administration, and Yoongi studies music, his concentration being piano and producing.
There’s an awkward silence, and you glance towards Hoseok, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. He’s good-looking, even though he’s simply dressed in a T-shirt with some graphics on the front and a pair of discoloured jeans. Knowing him, he probably has a crazy jacket upstairs, because you know he’s good when it comes to fashion.
It’s what attracted you to him in the first place.
“How are you?” you ask him, and you notice Yoongi’s pointed gaze on you. It’s disapproving, you think, but the question left your mouth without you even wanting it to.
“I’ve been great,” Hoseok replies, though it’s a little colder than what you know him to be.
You nod, gaze dropping to the ground as Ria strikes a conversation with the three others, clearly trying to give you and Hoseok some space. It has the two of you just standing in aimless silence, until the sound of whooping behind you attracts your gaze to the beer pong table, where Jimin and Jungkook are celebrating a win. “I’m…” you trail off as you turn back to look at him. “I’m glad. How are your classes?”
He sighs. “They’re harder than first-year classes.”
You don’t miss the ghost of a teasing glint in his eyes, and you immediately latch onto it. “Oh, please, you struggled in molecular biology. I got A+ in the class.”
He chuckles, and you physically relax. Because you haven’t really talked since you ended things in November, finals coming in the way of partying and other events where you would run into him. So you didn’t know before today where you stood with him, and you’re relieved that he doesn’t seem like he’s holding a grudge.
“You weren’t in Lester’s class,” he points out. “Even Namjoon almost failed Lester’s class.”
You gasp in fake outrage. “No way! And now he’s the biochem TA.”
“I know,” Hoseok says, slightly shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”
The renewed complicity between the two of you is easy, you realize, and when he suggests playing a game of beer pong, you immediately agree. Or maybe you only agree because you don’t know where Nabi, Ria, Yoongi and Namjoon went, only that they aren’t next to you anymore.
Jungkook and Jimin are still undefeated at the table, and when Jungkook catches sight of you moving closer, he winks before shooting.
You’re not surprised when the ball goes right in a cup, leaving only one on the table. Jimin laughs as their opponents claim Jungkook cheated, and Jungkook shrugs his shoulders.
“You should know better than to call me a cheater, bro,” Jungkook says, and he runs a hand in his hair.
An infuriating small strand falls in his big doe eyes, but he seemingly doesn’t care. He glances at you once again, eyes trailing between you and Hoseok.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asks when his gaze settles back on you.
You don’t miss the way his eyes dip to your cleavage before moving back to your face.
“I’m here to beat your ass,” you reply, and you offer him a shit-eating grin.
He laughs, and he sets his attention on Hoseok. “I hope you’re good, bro, because she’s just declared war.” And then he looks at you, smirking that insufferable smirk once more. His doe eyes narrow threateningly, and you find yourself wishing you had never heard him fuck before.
Because all your brain can picture right now is how you came to the sound of his grunts a couple of days ago.
“What?” you can’t help but say, though he looks away from you as the two other guys shoot, completely missing the three cups left in front of Jimin and Jungkook.
You notice Jimin looking at you with an eyebrow cocked, and the smile on his lips means nothing good. You furrow your brows, because you know how much of a gossip he is, but thankfully enough for you, he has to throw.
You watch as he does so, landing it right in the last cup. Jungkook of course throws right in the cup too, claiming the victory for them as the two other guys grumble and leave the table, leaving the place free for you and Hoseok.
You meet Hoseok’s gaze, offering him a small smirk. “I hope you’re ready to get fucked.”
You only realize how crude your words sounded, especially considering your history with him, when he starts laughing, that contagious laugh you’ve always found cute.
“I mean, I’m a pretty good shot,” he says once you’ve calmed down. “Are you?”
You wince. “Once in a while I’m good,” you answer truthfully. “Most of the time I suck.”
“Well hopefully you’ll be good tonight,” he teases, gently nudging you with his elbow.
You offer him a determined nod, before turning to face Jungkook and Jimin. You quickly put the solo cups back in position, as Jungkook watches you with a half-smile on his lips. You don’t know what to make of it, so you ignore him.
A small, tiny, minuscule voice at the back of your head tells you he probably knows about The Incident, but you ignore it entirely like you’ve been doing for the past few days.
Turns out Hoseok really is a good shot. He lands all of his shots, but of course, it has to be the day you suck. You don’t land any, up until the redemption that brings you back into the game when Jungkook and Jimin are about to win.
It makes you scream in happiness, and you throw your arms around Hoseok’s neck, right as his hands lay flat on your waist. He pulls you close, laughing in your ear until you let go, and you have the decency to feel bad.
You’re pretty sure you broke his heart in November, and you’re pretty sure you’ll only end up breaking it again. But there’s just something in the way Jungkook is staring from the other side of the table, smile gone, that makes you want to cling to Hoseok. So you do, and when he stands behind you to help you with your next shot, you let him put one hand on your hip.
Your gaze meets Jungkook’s, and you watch as his eyes dip to the fingers on your hip. He cocks his head to the side, wets his lips, and then an infuriating smirk lights up his features dangerously until you feel like you need to look away or else you’ll combust. So you glance at Jimin, who is just smiling prettily because when is he not, and then you focus on the lone solo cup you have to aim for.
“What you want to do,” Hoseok says, leaning so he can speak in your ear. You’re infinitely aware of how his pelvis brushes your ass, and your breath catches in your throat. He continues, “is to throw in a parabola. That way you won’t hit the rim of the cup”. He grabs your wrist, lifting your hand. “From this height, it should work.”
You nod, because you don’t think you can answer, especially not as you can hear Jungkook snickering from where he’s standing. Instead, you really focus on the cup, and when you’re about to throw, Jungkook speaks up.
“Put it in, baby.”
Your brain short-circuits, and it’s no wonder you miss by a good, few inches. Jimin is a giggly mess next to Jungkook, Hoseok can’t resist his laugh, and all you can do is glare at Jungkook’s satisfied smile.
“What the fuck?” you let out.
He winks at you. “Gotta learn to not get distracted, peach.”
You hate the nickname. He knows that you do, and it’s the reason why he’s been using it for months now. Ever since one late night where you played Mario Kart together with Taehyung and Jimin, and you kept choosing Princess Peach as your character. When you went in the kitchen to grab a drink, Jungkook followed you and teased you about it, and now the nickname has stuck.
Though evidently never in front of Taehyung.
You wish you had a snarky retort in you, but all you can do is think about The Incident, and pray he can’t tell that your cheeks are burning up because of him and not because of the alcohol.
You end up losing the beer pong game, and you cringe internally as you watch Hoseok dapping Jungkook and Jimin up. You begrudgingly congratulate them, as Jungkook teases you for the loss.
“Would have thought your brother taught you better than this,” he says, nudging you with his elbow.
You roll your eyes, glancing at Hoseok, but he’s striking a conversation with Jimin.
“Tae and I didn’t spend all that much time together, Jungkook,” you remind him. “You know I just moved in with you guys because you needed someone after Jimin left.”
Jungkook shrugs. “You seem pretty close to him.”
He falls silent, pulling at his piercing as you glance at his features. You’ve left your liquid courage somewhere on the table, and you really wish you had it with you right now. Only so you could avoid the sudden wistful look in Jungkook’s haze, though it disappears so quickly you think you might have imagined it.
“He’s really protective of you,” he comments as you too remain silent, not knowing what to say.
You chuckle, because if there is a thing that is true, it’s that your older brother is an overbearing asshole. “That he is,” you agree, and you both laugh.
“Hey, do you want a drink?” Hoseok suddenly asks, and you realize that Jimin has disappeared.
You’re pretty sure Jungkook is eyeing him up and down when you reply, “Please, I need a new drink.”
Hoseok beams, and you make to move towards him when Jungkook grabs your arm to stop you. Your eyes widen, The Incident flashing in your mind, but his tattooed fingers let go of you as you throw him an inquisitive look.
“I’m not drinking tonight,” he admits. “I came with my car, thought I’d offer to drive you home.”
At that, your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline in surprise. “What?”
He shrugs, corner smile back on his pink lips. “As long as you don’t get sick, that is.”
You ponder for a time, because you were supposed to sleep over at Nabi and Ria’s dorm tonight. You reckon heading home would probably be better, especially now that Hoseok has caught your attention again.
Maybe you can give Jungkook a piece of his medicine.
“Ayt,” you tell him, moving closer as a secretive smile moves on your lips, brought up by the evil plan that is just starting to form in your brain. “I’ll find you later?”
Jungkook looks down at you, tongue pushing on the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head to the side. A smirk moves on his lips and he glances at Hoseok before settling his doe eyes back on you.
He looks nothing like a doe when he says, “I’ll be waiting for you.”
And then he’s the one that walks away, and you can’t breathe for a few seconds as Hoseok waits patiently, either unaware of the situation or not caring. Though you know he knows Jungkook is your roommate – he probably just thinks Jungkook is being nice.
You inhale deeply, before turning to look at Hoseok as you let out your breath. “So, drinks?”
He smiles, genuinely, nodding his head as he offers you his hand to take. To your surprise, he pulls you close to him, and the way his gaze looks down on you makes you all too aware that you used to fuck him, and he used to fuck you good.
“What are you drinking tonight?” he asks, head dipping so he can ask the question in your ear.
“What do you want?”
His smile turns a little dangerous, and he looks over your head to the doorway to the living room. “Shall we?”
You laugh, nodding your head enthusiastically, and you let him pull you behind him. He guides you to the drink table in the living room, where he makes you a rum and coke as you scan your surroundings. You spy Ria and Nabi dancing, and you only understand why when you notice that Namjoon is nearby too, with Yoongi who’s just standing to the side, scrolling on his phone as if bored.
You know Hoseok likes to dance. That’s how you first kissed all those months ago, so you don’t hesitate to ask if he wants to join your friends after you’ve both drank a couple of sips from your respective solo cups. He obviously agrees, and you take his hand to guide him to your friends. You’re painfully aware of how Yoongi raises his head when you get closer, eyes dropping to your entwined hands. He furrows his brows disapprovingly, and you wonder if he’ll speak up.
If he’ll speak up and ruin your plan for you.
He doesn’t, instead meeting your gaze as if daring you to do something. It makes you feel bad for a split second until Hoseok lets go of your hand to rest a hand on your hip as he nestles his lean body against your back.
“You know,” he says in your ear, and you look away from Yoongi, refusing to acknowledge his challenge. “I always wondered why you ghosted me.”
You gulp, and you follow his lead as he makes you sway your hips against him. Ria whistles and your eyes widen a little as if to say ‘please not right now’.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize, and it’s true. “I didn’t really mean to ghost you, just got busy and…”
He laughs, and you’re surprised to hear it ring true. “Y/n,” he says. He leans even closer, and his lips brush your ear. It makes goosebumps rise all over your body, right as he continues, “You can say you got scared. I gave you plenty of reasons to be scared.”
Because you had agreed on no feelings, and he still had developed some, hadn’t he?
“I’m still sorry, ghosting you was shitty of me.”
He chuckles, and you’re starting to recognize the man that he is in the bedroom. His voice is low, husky, when he says, “Should I punish you for it?”
The Incident and Jeon Jungkook are thousands of miles from your thoughts when his words settle in, making heat pool at your core.
“You’d still want to do this?” you ask, breathlessly.
He nibbles at your earlobe, and you instinctively tilt your head to the side to give him better access. He kisses under your ear, tongue darting out to taste your skin, and this time Ria fully hollers in front of you.
You glare at her, only to see that she and Nabi are having the time of their life watching you.
“I haven’t been able to forget how good your pussy feels wrapped around my dick,” Hoseok replies after he’s sucked a hickey on your neck. “Trust me, if I can fuck you again, I’ll do it.”
You don’t hesitate when you turn around, resting your forehead against his. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
And you know you would. Especially considering how tense he was when you first talked to him tonight.
“Sweet of you,” he comments, and a smirk grows on his lips. He pulls away from you, taking a sip of rum and coke. “I wasn’t catching feelings for you, if that’s what you were worried about.” He pauses as his face falls fully serious. “You just don’t like when people treat you right.”
You’re insulted. You really are, yet… he isn’t entirely wrong. The minute a guy gets too close, you dip – you blame that on the fact your father abandoned you and Taehyung when you were still kids.
“Is that why Yoongi is glaring at me?” you ask, a little colder than intended.
The message still passes, and Hoseok shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t care what Yoongi thinks. He always thinks he knows me better than I do but, trust, he doesn’t.”
You’re surprised at just how bitter Hoseok’s sentence sounds. You always thought Yoongi and he were best friends. It’s strange to think that maybe they aren’t, or at least maybe they aren’t close enough to be.
“Anyway,” Hoseok adds when you remain silent for a little too long. “If you’re willing to fuck again, I’d be down. I haven’t found another pussy like yours since the last time we fucked.”
Which coincidentally is the last time you had sex with anyone. You’re not surprised Hoseok fucked some other people after you – with his easy charm, you know he can have anyone wrapped around his finger pretty easily.
And if he wants to participate in your evil plan so willingly, who are you to tell him no?
“The night’s barely started,” you point out. “But maybe you can come back to my place later?”
You’ve never invited him over before, because if there’s a thing that scares you more than anything in this world, it’s Taehyung hearing you having sex with some guy. But now that your brother is in Paris, you figure it doesn’t matter.
Plus, if you want Jungkook to get a taste of his own medicine, you have to bring Hoseok home.
“Deal,” Hoseok tells you, and he seals the deed with a searing and unexpected kiss.
You still kiss him back, hungrily, your body remembering just how good Hoseok can make you feel. You just have to make it through a party – with Jungkook driving you home, you know it’s likely you won’t leave until the party is starting to dwindle down.
When you pull away, Hoseok licks his lips once, as if wanting to remember the taste of you, before saying, “I’ll find you at the end of the party”.
You nod, and begrudgingly let him leave when he walks over to where Yoongi is standing, now joined by a baffled Namjoon, who glances between the two of you a couple of times. You ignore him, instead focusing on Ria and Nabi as they drunkenly pull you away, laughing wildly.
“What the fuck was that?” Ria asks in between two sets of laughter as you emerge in the kitchen. “I thought you said you didn’t want him anymore.”
You don’t want to jinx your plan, so all you can think to do is shrug your shoulders nonchalantly. “It just happened.”
In a weird moment of soberness, Nabi says, “Please don’t lead him on. He’s a decent guy”.
You tell your friends what he told you, and they both seem taken aback, yet they don’t question it. After all, the amount of alcohol in your blood is enough to make it so it’s a little hard to think profoundly, and inhibitions have flown out the window before you even got to the party.
After the conversation is over, your two friends insist on playing beer pong, claiming that they need you to encourage them. You recognize Dave at the table – you think that’s his name – and you all cozy up next to him as you ask to be next. You linger behind, mostly because you’ve noticed someone you’ve been avoiding ever since you got to college last semester, and you hope he doesn’t notice you.
Maybe he’s one of the reasons why you’ve been struggling with people treating you right, like Hoseok mentioned. Because Sam was your first love, and he played you immensely.
If he notices you, he doesn’t look like he does, instead keeping his arm tightly wrapped around the girl next to him. You don’t know her, and you wouldn’t even care if you did – you stopped caring about Sam a long time ago. But you’re still a little put off at the sight of him, and when you catch sight of Jungkook and Jimin by the backyard’s sliding door, breathing in some fresh air, you decide to join them.
Which, you reckon, is a very stupid idea. Because they are Taehyung’s friends, not yours, but they feel safer for you than being in the vicinity of Sam Hwang right now.
“Weren’t you sucking face with what’s-his-name just a second ago?” Jimin asks straight away as you stop next to them.
You snort in your cup, taking a long sip from your drink. “Maybe,” you say once you’ve swallowed.
“Tae would have killed him,” Jimin jokes, looking at Jungkook.
You don’t miss the way Jungkook’s gaze is focused on a spot on your neck, and you rub it mindlessly.
“Good thing he’s in Paris,” you point out. “And I can trust you two to not tell him?”
You say it like a question, though you know it’s useless. Jimin is the biggest gossip you know, and you expect Taehyung to be scolding you by the time you wake up tomorrow morning.
Though that attracts Jungkook’s attention to your face, and he meets your gaze with that same infuriating smirk he was sporting earlier.
“Lips sealed,” he says, uselessly because both of you know that Jimin is the real danger.
Before anything else can be said, Jimin points towards the beer pong table. “Didn’t feel like playing with your friends?”
You shrug, taking another sip of rum and coke. “They don’t need me.”
“Pretty sure you’d be a liability anyway,” Jungkook teases.
Jimin and he laughs at your expanse, and you’re stuck glaring at Jungkook, right as The Incident takes the forefront of your thoughts again.
You wish it would stop haunting you. Wish it would leave you alone, because you feel like it was the cataclysm to a series of bad decisions. The first event of a butterfly effect that is threatening to push you over the edge of the cliff.
“I did get the redemption shot,” you point out, and Jungkook playfully nudges you again.
“Doesn’t count, your little boyfriend got all the other shots for you.”
Your gaze widens. “He’s not my boyfriend!” you quickly defend.
Admittedly a tad too quickly.
Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, wetting his lips before playing with his piercing. “Of course not.”
You narrow your eyes at him, though you remain silent because you feel like saying something else would be far too incriminating.
“Leave her alone,” Jimin jokes. “She did her best.” And then his gaze settles on you, and you balk at the mischief burning in his eyes. “Not her fault if her best sucks.”
“Bruh,” you let out, and you all burst out laughing.
After that, the conversation moves on easily, as you ask Jimin about his girlfriend. He starts gushing about the girl – he always does whenever Sera is mentioned. He tells you about her latest publication, and Jungkook looks bored out of his mind by the time something catches his attention, and he walks away from you and Jimin.
You watch him leave, somehow disappointed, but you entertain the conversation with Jimin for longer still. And Jimin is fun to be around, easy to talk to, and you don’t realize but an hour has passed before he glances down at his phone.
“Shit, I gotta go,” he admits. “I told Sera I wouldn’t be home too late.”
Your solo cup has been empty for half of the hour, so you raise it and say, “Go home, I’m going to get a refill.”
He hugs you goodbye, though you both walk together towards the living room. You part ways as you head to the drink table, once again scanning the room in search of your friends. They are nowhere to be seen, so you set on exploring the house after you’ve made another rum and coke for yourself.
You find the stairs, and you head upstairs thinking they might have needed to settle in a calmer environment. Knowing Nabi, it is to be expected, yet you don’t find them anywhere upstairs. There’s a closed door leading to what you think is a bathroom, but you refuse to look in there.
You almost let out a startled yelp as it opens, and Jungkook steps out, pretty lips swollen red as he leads a girl behind him. At the sight of you, he lets go of her hand, and she looks between the two of you curiously. As both of you remain entirely silent, she furrows her brow but then dips, running a hand through her visibly tangled-up hair.
You can easily imagine what she and Jungkook were doing just a moment ago.
“Really?” you tell him.
His tongue pokes his cheek, and he laughs. “You asked me not to fuck at home anymore.”
You purse your lips, actually surprised that he took your word into account.
“Didn’t expect you would respect it.”
He doesn’t fake the offence that paints his features. “I’m not an asshole, peach.”
The nickname is said condescendingly, and you reckon you should feel a little bad. Because you’re still set on bringing Hoseok home tonight, no matter if Jungkook decided not to fuck anyone at home again.
“Sorry,” you apologize, not knowing what else to say.
Silence moves between you, and Jungkook leans against the doorframe, arms folding on his chest. He watches you carefully, as if he’s never really seen you before and, frankly, you wish he’d looked at you like this before.
It’s a treacherous thought, and you push it away as best as you can.
“Jimin went home,” you tell him, feeling the need to fill the silence with something, anything.
Before he can reply, a group of people move upstairs, talking loudly. Jungkook pushes up from the doorframe, walking towards you.
“Do you want to go home too?” he asks when he’s right next to you.
He’s tall. You have to tilt your head back to be able to hold his gaze, and damn you, you’re hypnotized. You don’t want to look away, don’t think that you can.
“You already want to go home?” you answer, wetting your lips, and his eyes drop to your mouth.
He scoffs, as if it’s an inconvenience, before shrugging his shoulders. “I’m not drinking, I don’t see why I’d stay longer.”
Right.
“Why aren’t you drinking anyway?” you ask, genuinely curious.
He smiles, with no hint of that infuriating smirk for once. “Got morning shift at the library tomorrow.”
The fact he works in a library still makes no sense to you. Though he’s claimed it’s because that way, it’s easy to approach all the pretty, intelligent women who don’t go to parties. Easy targets for a fuckboy like him.
“Ah,” you let out. “Well…” you glance at the group of people as they get out of the room where the coats are. When you resume your attention on Jungkook, you’re struck thinking he’s moved even closer. “My friend is supposed to sleep over, can I go find him?”
You say it innocently, and you don’t miss the way Jungkook frowns slightly. “Who?”
You force Hoseok’s name out, mostly because the way Jungkook is looking at you right now is making you want to disappear through the floor.
“Ah, the guy you played beer pong with,” Jungkook comments. “Thought he wasn’t your boyfriend.”
You furrow your brows. “He isn’t.”
A smirk grows on his lips. “Then why are you bringing him home, peach?”
Your own smirk is easy to come to your lips as you reply, “I’ll let you imagine.”
“Your brother wouldn’t approve.”
As he licks at his piercing, you can’t help but look down at his lips. “Good thing you’re not my brother then.”
He doesn’t reply, only looks over your head as you hear the unmistakable laugh of Jeong Hoseok. It makes you take a step back, and you turn to see Hoseok appearing at the top of the stairs. To your surprise, he’s accompanied by Ria, Nabi and Namjoon, but Yoongi is nowhere in sight.
Namjoon is helping Nabi walk, as she’s clearly gotten even drunker since you abandoned them downstairs. You wince at her sight, knowing she’s going to be a nightmare tomorrow.
Ria catches sight of you and Jungkook, and her gaze widens.
“Here you are!” she shrieks. “We were looking for you everywhere.”
You don’t miss the way Hoseok looks you up and down, and you thank your stars for making this so easy. “I was thinking of heading home,” you tell the group, and you glance over your shoulder to confirm it with Jungkook.
He’s got an unreadable expression on his features, one that makes you think you’re going to enjoy your payback way too much.
When you look back to the group, it’s to see Hoseok cocking an eyebrow as if to say ‘Am I still coming?’ You nod, and you take a few steps towards him, interlocking your fingers with his. Ria watches as if it’s a scene from her favourite movie, and you all enter the room with the coats.
You find yours in the mess on the floor, fast enough to catch sight of Jungkook as he’s waiting outside the door. You recognize his coat in the mess, so you grab it before bringing it to him.
“Here,” you tell him.
He chuckles. “Thanks, peach.”
Hoseok is next to follow, and the two guys eye each other before you hear Namjoon say, “Are you sure you’re fine with getting her home?”
You look into the room – Nabi is now lying on the bed, laughing to herself.
“Hopefully, yeah,” Ria answers. “I’ve already called an Uber.”
Namjoon is watching Nabi with a strange expression on his features when he says, “You guys are still at the dorms?”
“Yeah, we are,” Nabi slurs. “Where else would we be?”
Namjoon chuckles, and he glances your way. You immediately look away, right as he says, “I’ll come with you guys, then.”
Your thoughts head to his girlfriend for a few seconds, feeling bad for the girl, though clearly, Namjoon is just trying to be a gentleman. When you see Jungkook and Hoseok waiting patiently for you, you forget all about Nabi, Ria, Namjoon and his hypothetic girlfriend, especially as you see the not-so-genuine smile on Hoseok’s lips, and the dark look in Jungkook’s gaze.
Maybe your plan was a little too evil after all.
*****
The night is cold outside ─ arctic ─ and you wish you were drunker. That way, you’d barely feel it, but no, you’re forced to a shivering mess as you walk behind Jungkook towards his car, which he was forced to park a few streets over because of a recent snowstorm. All that can be heard is the sounds of your shoes crunching in the snow and the distant buzz of the highway. Up above, the stars twinkle in the night, and smoke moves from your mouth to create a cloud over your head.
You hate winter. Always have, and always will. Especially when it’s so cold you feel like your face will fall off, and you reckon tonight is one of the coldest nights in a while.
Your eyes trail to Hoseok, and you smile in relief – at least your bed won’t be cold tonight.
You finally reach Jungkook’s car, and he unlocks the doors, the sound reverberating through the cold air. You sit in the back seat with Hoseok, pushing Jungkook’s gym bag to the side, and Jungkook is quick to turn on the engine, blasting the heater on. He meets your gaze in the rearview mirror as he waits for the engine to be warm enough to actually start driving.
For a moment, you forget Hoseok is next to you. All you can focus on is Jungkook’s gaze. Where it’s usually wide, big and innocent, his eyes are narrowed now, as if he’s eyeing you. Judging you, even. Judging your choices, and you think he’s full of shit for it – he’s the first one to fuck around whenever he has the opportunity, after all.
A moment later, he deems the car finally ready, and he looks away, focusing on the street instead. He turns up the music on the stereo, and you watch as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat. You do so until you feel Hoseok’s hand landing on your thigh, which attracts your attention to him.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Hoseok says, not too loud, but clearly Jungkook hears because his fingers stop tapping on the wheel.
You smile, glancing down at Hoseok’s lips. They look chapped from the cold, yet when he smiles that bright smile of his back, you can’t help but think they are still inviting.
“Please don’t judge the state of the apartment,�� you whisper, leaning closer to him. “This idiot doesn’t know how to –“
Jungkook slams the brakes, and you whip your head towards him as the aftershock sends you back into your seat. His eyes are gleaming with barely concealed mischief, and the infuriating smirk graces his lips.
“Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t seem apologetic at all.
You roll your eyes, but that kills the conversation until you arrive at your apartment, which thankfully isn’t too far away from the party. Jungkook parks out front, and you all file out of the car, walking up the stairs to your door. You unlock it while the two men stand next to you, and you’re not sure what’s colder – them, or the actual winter night.
You’re not sure you want to know the answer either.
Warm air wraps you in its embrace as you open the door and step in, and you quickly shut it after the two men to make sure the cold doesn’t come in too much. By the time you’ve turned back around, Jungkook’s already halfway to his bedroom.
“Good night,” he says over his shoulder.
For some reason, you expected him to be more of an ass about the situation, but you’re reduced to thinking he actually doesn’t care all that much. You watch him until he disappears in his room before your eyes slide to Hoseok.
He’s been observing you all this time, and the moment your eyes meet, he smiles.
“We can hang our coats in the closet,” you tell him as you unzip yours, and he follows your motion.
You grab a hanger for him, handing it to him before taking off your coat and hanging it. Once that is done, you head towards your room, pit-stopping in the kitchen to grab glasses of water. You reckon you didn’t expect him to be so silent, and it makes you slightly uncomfortable.
Even when you’re in your room, and you’ve plugged in your fairy lights, Hoseok still doesn’t say a thing.
“You good?” you ask him, doing your best to calm your sudden nerves.
Was it a good idea to bring him here after all?
He grins, nodding once. “The apartment isn’t as messy as you let it sound like.”
Not expecting that at all, you let out a small laugh. But he isn’t wrong – out of the three of you, Taehyung is by far the messiest. And now that he is gone, Jungkook and you have managed to keep the apartment tidy and clean, though sometimes Jungkook does leave some dirty dishes around.
“Oh,” you let out, and you chuckle. “Yeah, we cleaned this week.”
Last Wednesday, actually. Right before Jungkook had his pussy appointment, it turns out.
Hoseok looks around, and you gaze at his honey skin for a time. It looks warm in the lights, and his smile is still just as blinding when he offers it to you.
“Like your room.”
You scan it as if you haven’t lived here for months now. You’ve brought most of the stuff you had at home – except your collection of plushies. Polaroid pictures of you growing up are hung on threads over your desk, which is a little messy from the project you were working on yesterday. Your laptop lays there unattended, screen black, and you walk over to shut it absentmindedly.
“It’s not much, but it’s home,” you tell him, and you don’t have time to turn around for him to put his hand on your hip like he was doing earlier at the party.
You take a long swig of water, before putting the glass down on your desk. Hoseok imitates you, and then his other hand finds a home on your waist.
“Feels like you,” he whispers, head dipping down so he can say the words in your ear.
You shiver, eyes fluttering shut, as he moves your hair out of the way before kissing on the hickey he sucked on your skin at the party.
“Yeah?” you breathe out.
He nods, and you feel him move against your neck. He pulls you closer, and your breath itches in your throat when you feel his dick against your ass.
“Fuck,” he curses. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you again for so long.” He nibbles at your earlobe, and one of his hands moves to your neck, holding you firmly into place. “But you had to run away, thinking you knew me. Baby,” he pauses, as his fingers dig in your arteries, making your head swim with the lack of oxygen, “you don’t know me at all. And I’m going to fucking punish you for it tonight. Understood?”
He releases his hold on your neck, and you suck in a sharp breath. “Yes.”
“Mmh?”
You know exactly what he wants, and it makes your insides boil again. “Yes, sir.”
He smirks against you, before biting at the skin of your neck. “You’ll be a good little slut for me?”
You nod, entirely unable to form a sentence. You’ve completely forgotten that the goal of tonight is to make Jungkook pay for how he’s been having loud sex. All you can think about right now is the man behind you.
“Then turn around, baby. Strip out of your clothes.”
You obey, mostly because Hoseok brings out a submissive part of you that just craves to do what he wants. Yes, you’ve always been more on the submissive side. But with other people, you can’t help the brat in you.
You fear being a brat with Hoseok would be a very dangerous game to play.
You don’t break the eye contact as you take off your clothes, slowly. He doesn’t look away from you, though he wets his lips as if the sight of you is making him hungry.
Hoseok has a duality you have rarely seen before. Where he is an incredibly sweet person in his regular life, his bedroom self turns into a demon, a force to be reckoned with. No wonder sex with him is always so good.
When you’re finally naked, panties pooling around your ankles, Hoseok offers you a smirk. He doesn’t say anything, but he slowly undoes his belt, before motioning for you to get closer.
Only one step separates you from him, and then you’re standing right in front of him. He raises his hand, making you tilt your head back, and then he captures your mouth in a hungry kiss.
You can’t help but moan when he swats the belt at your side, the leather making your skin tingle. He pushes his tongue in your mouth, and your hands instinctively grab onto the hem of his shirt.
“Nu-uh,” he tuts, making you let go of it. “Get on your knees, baby.”
You drop to your knees, eyes darting to the bulge in his pants once before he makes you tilt your head back again. You gulp, right as he wraps his belt around your neck until the buckle is pressing against your skin. He doesn’t make it tight enough to hurt, but your hands still shake a little at being so vulnerable in front of him.
“You remember the safe word?” he asks.
“Red.”
He nods appreciatively. “And if you can’t speak, you tap my leg, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fuck you look so good like this.”
Not knowing if you can touch him, you just smile up at him, wetting your lips.
“Want to get a taste of me?”
You already know where this is going to lead. Hoseok fucked your mouth more than once in the three months you had casual sex with him. So you answer, “I want you to come down my throat.”
He smirks. “Good girl.”
With his free hand, he unbuttons his pants, before pushing them down his legs. He doesn’t step out of them, instead palming himself through his boxers. You watch the imprint of his dick, salivating at the sight, especially as precum is already wetting the fabric.
Hoseok doesn’t have a particularly big dick. But whenever he fucks you, it feels like he’s the biggest you’ve ever had, mostly because he knows how to use it. Knows how to move and snap his hips in a way that makes you think you’re seeing into the future. It also makes it so sucking his dick doesn’t hurt your jaw too much, so you’re able to do it for a longer period of time.
Tonight, you have an inkling that you’ll be doing it for a while.
He pushes his underwear down, freeing his dick. Your eyes drop to it, not surprised to see the angry, swollen tip. He looks like he’s about to burst, but you know it’s a trick of the eye – Hoseok has more stamina than one would think.
Holding the base of his dick, he brings the tip closer to your face. Your mouth falls open, expecting him to push his cock in, but he instead taps your cheek with it.
“I want to ruin you,” he says in a low voice. “I want you to never be able to fuck another guy because you still think of me.”
You gulp, tongue darting to wet your lips. He gets the cue, and he brings his dick to your mouth. You don’t hesitate before licking at his slit, the salty taste of his precum filling your mouth. You then wrap your lips around the head, giving a tentative suck as your tongue plays with the underside of it.
He grunts, cocking his head to the side. And then he starts pulling on the belt – just a little, not enough to hurt, but enough to make it so it’s a tad harder to breathe. He’s usually pretty safe in his sex practices, but you feel like this could be dangerous.
You only then understand what he really meant by punishing you, and it makes your pussy drip on your thighs.
You moan around his dick, before slowly pushing forward until he hits the back of your throat, and your eyes water. You swallow around him, keeping the gag reflex at bay as he circles his hips. You pull away from his cock to move to his balls instead, still not using your hands as you lick at the spot between them, licking up his dick at the same time.
“Hands on me, baby,” he commands.
As per usual, you obey. One of your hands moves to fondle his balls, and the other wraps around the base of his cock so you can jerk him off as you suck. And then you get to work, eyes shutting as you concentrate on pulling grunts out of him.
He doesn’t let you do it for a long time. He’s quick to pull on the belt more – it’s a leash more than a belt, is it? – which makes you pull away, lips parted as you struggle to suck in some air.
“Eyes on me,” he tells you. “I want to see you cry as you choke on my dick.”
When he guides his cock back towards your mouth, you keep your eyes on him, ever so a good girl, and you let him thrust in your mouth. The first two times he does it, your gag reflex doesn’t show up, but the third time you gag, spit rolling on your chin as he pulls away. A line of drool connects his tip to your mouth, and it breaks as he once again taps his cock on your cheek. Tears water your eyes, and he watches you blink them away, slightly shaking his head in disapproval.
You know that was your last chance when he pushes his dick in your mouth again, establishing a steady yet hard rhythm that has your gaze blurring. You moan against him, right as he grunts, whispering filthy curses entwined with mentions of your name. And when he starts going faster, the sounds of you choking get louder. It’s indecent, pornographic, and tears roll on your cheeks as he throws his head back, grunting loudly.
“Fuck, baby.”
He stops at the back of your throat, looking down at you. He wipes some tears on your cheeks as you swallow around him. His dick twitches inside your mouth, but you know he’s not about to come.
Soon, perhaps, but not just yet.
“You’re okay?” he asks, because even though he’s pretty rough, he always does care about his partner too.
He lets you pull away to catch your breath, releasing his tight hold on the belt too. You breathe raggedly, throat feeling raw from the intrusion.
“Yes,” you breathe out.
“Good.” He licks his lips, offering you a dangerous chuckle. “You’re going to let me come down your throat?”
You nod, and he taps the tip of his dick against your sealed lips. You don’t remember shutting your mouth, so you open it wide again for him. He pushes forward, slowly, until all of it is embedded in your mouth, head pushing against the back of your throat. He remains unmoving long enough for you to gag, and then he pushes forward even more before pulling back.
When he starts fucking your mouth again, you know he’s chasing his high. So you fondle his balls, moan around his dick, try not to choke whenever he hits the back of your throat. Evidently, you still do sometimes, and tears roll down your cheeks by the time he growls, “Open your throat up for me, baby”.
You moan one last time, as he pushes all the way to the back of your mouth, grunting loudly as hot spurts of his cum fills your throat. As his dick twitches, he pulls out a little, and you know better than to swallow right away. So you patiently wait as he finishes, before fully pulling away.
He grabs your jaw, and forces you to tilt your head back. “Open up.” You do, and he spits on top of his cum before saying, “Swallow”. You do that too, and the next time you open your mouth, it’s fully empty. Only then does he let go of your jaw, and he also quickly takes his belt off from around your neck, letting it drop to the floor.
It falls with a loud thump, and you breathe in deeply for the first time in a while. Your throat aches, and you massage your neck where the buckle left an indent in your skin. Concern grows on his features as you chuckle awkwardly, getting up from the floor.
Your knees are already hurting, and you know you’ll have bruises by the time you wake up tomorrow.
“Is your neck okay?” he asks.
You drop your hand, and his fingers ghost over the spot. “Yeah,” you reassure him. “It’ll be okay.”
“Good.” He smirks, and then he captures your lips in another heated kiss. One of his hands moves between your thighs, and he feels your wetness, groaning in satisfaction. “You’re dripping for me,” he says as he pulls away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.
“I am.”
He licks at your mouth, before saying, “Too bad you won’t be getting some tonight, mmh?”
And he moves his hand away from your core to settle it on your waist instead.
“What?” you let out.
At this, he laughs, and it’s a little mean. “You think I’ll make you come when you’ve ghosted me for a few months?” He pauses, letting his words sink in. “Nah, you’re going to have to work for it, baby.”
You want to curse him, but somehow it just turns you on further. “When can I see you again then?”
He ponders for a time, pulling away so he can meet your gaze. “What about next weekend?”
You’re disappointed, but you try not to let it show. “Any chance you’d be available during the week?”
“Maybe,” he says, cocking his head to the side. “Will you be nice and not touch yourself until then?”
You bite at your bottom lip, nodding once.
“Then yes, we can hang out this week,” he concludes. He frees your lip from your teeth with his thumb, before gently tapping your cheek. “But I’ve got to go now.”
It surprises you. Back when you were friends with benefits, you always stayed the night at his place, so you expected him to stay tonight. But he immediately steps away from you, putting his clothes back on quickly as you just stand there, naked and awkward.
“You’re leaving?”
He glances at you as he’s putting his belt back on. “Yeah, won’t have you think I’m into you like that again.”
It hurts just a tad little bit, but at the same time you agree with him. Not sleeping over is a good way to avoid feelings, so you decide to throw on a pair of sweatpants and a sweater so you can walk him to the front door.
Hoseok kisses your forehead once when you get there, before grabbing his coat. You watch as he slides his arms in it, draping it on his shoulders before he bends down to put his shoes on too. When he straightens, he offers you a hug and you gladly embrace him as he wishes you good night.
You’re somehow confused as you shut the door behind him, and you stay there for a few seconds, almost expecting him to come back. He doesn’t, and you’re left heading to the bathroom to brush your teeth, only so you can get rid of the taste of him, and then you head to your bedroom.
And as you lie awake in bed, the only thing you can hope is that Jungkook didn’t hear you after all. You’re ashamed of what you did, but you’re far too tired to think about it deeply. All you can do is stare at the wall in front of you, hoping that sleep will take you.
It doesn’t, not until the early hours of the morning, when the sun is starting to kiss the horizon, turning the sky to liquid gold.
Teaser | Next
☆☆☆☆☆
So? Do we like it? Do we not? Let me know what you thought of the first chapter!
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#chasing cars ch 1#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fic#jungkook#jjk smut#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fic#jjk#chasing cars series#btswritersclub#chasing cars
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sweet calamity | ch 1
Wednesday Addams x Reader
Series Summary: It was something people described as the sweetest pain, the feeling of when the soul that's destined to find yours is closer to you. Wednesday saw it as a curse, promised herself she would hate whoever was chosen for her; but it's easier said than done.
A/N: And so the soulmate au begins (I'm a sucker for those and we all know it), anyways, I know this first part is small, but think of it as a prologue of sorts. I also can't promise that updates are gonna be super fast, because I'm kinda figuring things out as I go :') so please, let me know what you think, and especially let me know if there's anything in particular that you'd like to see happening in this series.
Masterlist
There were bumps in the road; small holes and cracks on the tree-surrounded path that lead to Nevermore. It became a familiar one, given the number of times Wednesday has already passed through it.
Today was the first day of the new semester, the return of boring normalcy after Crackstone's defeat.
Wednesday's dark eyes looked out the window, counting the trees as they went by, shadowed by the cloudy day. Her thumb was pressing over the inside of her right wrist, sometimes scratching the skin there in disdain for the faint birthmark she was cursed with.
Many people — most of them — saw the existence of soulmates as something good, the world's compensation for its cruelty with humanity; they see it as a reason to look forward to the next day, a reason to believe in a happier future.
Wednesday had a clearer vision. She knew, from the moment her parents broke the news to her that there was someone out there who had a soul that complemented hers perfectly, that it was just another devious move of this universe. A trojan horse that presented itself as salvation only to torture you — for some people to the point of insanity. Because the world doesn't give you anything on a silver platter and this was no different.
The thing about soulmates, is that each one of the pair is born with an identical mark on their skin; a mark that aches the closer you get to your soulmate, resembling the burn of a lighter on a bare finger. However, once you touch the other person for the first time, that ache is gone, never to happen again.
You could be on a train, walking a busy street, or watching a concert in the middle of a raging crowd and simply bump into the one who bears the other half of you; only to never cross paths with each other again.
So really, if anything, Wednesday respected the boldness of the universe, to come up with something so enticing, so desirable yet so out of reach.
She heard stories of people who felt the burning ache, ever present as they chased it more and more, and then suddenly… nothingness. The realization slowly sinking in as they looked frantically from one side to another and watched the people walk by, along with their chance at a happy ending.
Over time, the number of people who found their soulmate started slowly decreasing. If you did, you could be considered one of the lucky ones.
Wednesday considered herself lucky that she hasn't ever felt what others described as the sweetest pain.
The Addams girl stepped out of her car, backpack in one hand and a small suitcase in the other as Lurch unloaded the rest of her belongings. Nevermore stood in front of her in all its glory; the grey stone walls high and partly covered by climbing plants as the trees around it changed their leaves to vivid yellows and oranges.
Many students were arriving and walking through the gates, chatting animatedly and making Wednesday scrunch her nose at the unsettling noise. She spared her peers no glances, unwilling to indulge them in pleasantries and gossip about the time spent away.
It was strange how some of them still glanced at Wednesday from the corner of their eyes, whispering in each other's ears as she walked right past them, as if she wouldn't notice. She sometimes caught on to some of the words;
She's that girl who killed the evil pilgrim. That's Wednesday Addams, she saved the school last year.
The attention was not something Wednesday enjoyed, it only gave people more opportunities to disturb her peace.
As she walked through the main doors of the entrance hall, she heard it; excited steps approaching without abandon until her body was engulfed in a sea of blonde and pink.
"Enid," Wednesday said her name as a warning, though if you squint, you could say she half returned the hug.
The werewolf pulled back with a smile that Wednesday could only describe as bruising. "Hi roomie," Enid greeted, her joy dripping from her words, "it's been so long I even started missing your gloominess."
"It's barely been six months, Enid." Wednesday raised a pointed eyebrow, her features impassive as she held her roommate's gaze — until she relented; "but I did notice the absence of your obnoxious music and incessant texting."
It got Enid grinning, and with a skip on her step, she followed suit by Wednesday's side as they both walked up the stairs that led to the quad, "felt like six years to me, I didn't think I would but I actually missed school, staying home with my brothers could be considered torture."
"You can always torture them back, the possibilities are endless," Wednesday suggested.
Most students were gathering on the quad in order to hear principal Weems' speech for the beginning of the semester, including the newcomers. All tables were already filled with outcasts, some of them even sat on the ground due to the lack of space.
Wednesday huffed as she looked around, annoyed with the commotion she was forced upon; she spotted Xavier, sitting against a stone pillar with his head buried in his sketchbook; Bianca, who sat cross-legged on top of one of the tables, chatting with the other sirens; and Eugene, who was slowly walking on the opposite side of the quad, he gestured animatedly as he talked with a girl Wednesday had never seen here before, most likely giving her the Nevermore welcoming tour.
"There are even more people than before," Wednesday commented.
"I heard that a few new students transferred this year," Enid spoke after following Wednesday's gaze, "Nevermore has become quite popular…"
But the werewolf's voice faded slowly, becoming background noise to Wednesday's ears. Her dark eyes, usually sharp and attentive, lost their focus. Her burgundy-painted lips parted with breaths that came too shallow; because all of a sudden, Wednesday could only focus on one thing.
It felt like touching the tip of a lit candle with your finger, barely there, so faint that someone less aware could miss it. But Wednesday would never. Right on the pulse point of her wrist, on top of the mark she was always trying to scratch out; it burned.
The hand Wednesday had around the leather strap of her backpack tightened its hold until her knuckles turned white. She hasn't blinked since Enid started talking and she could feel the back of her eyes stinging, but her body was stuck in time. Stuck in a moment that shouldn't exist.
Only when the feeling faded, did Wednesday let out the puff of air she'd been holding. She didn't turn her head, but her gaze skimmed over the quad against her own volition, finding Xavier and Bianca and… Eugene was gone but who cares, Wednesday's so-called other half had just been close enough for her to feel them.
For a second she could feel strings pulling at her heart, willing it to match someone else's beat; her skin got littered with goosebumps and she hated every second of it. Hated whoever it was that was inciting it upon her.
It was sadistically ironic, really, that the only person who loathes the idea of having a soulmate, will most likely be studying with them.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Read ch 2 here
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3
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Gotham's Black Rose
Dpxdc fanfic
I saw a post about Sam being Bruce's daughter and I've been reading a lot of comics recently about family and stuff. Idk what I'm actually thinking right now but the vibes are talking to me okay?
So it's a little implied kinky? Nothing happens but Sam gets lost in her thoughts for most of this chapter and she trails off into thinking around some kinda related topics, Everlasting Trio, so Danny/Sam/Tucker. Its just a short ch 1 so I'll see what happens if I write more.
Chapter 1: In My Head
Sam could feel the rage boiling in her blood. She was months from turning Eighteen. She had everything planned out for her grand escape from the Manson Mansion, from her car to a two room apartment in Gotham near Gotham University. Once she graduated she'd grab her boys, their daughter, and they'd ditch this fucked up town they would never accept them.
But here she stood, every inch of her individuality scrubbed away, to pose as the Manson's perfect daughter one last time.
"Of course we love our community-" Pamela said, it was a lie if Sam ever heard one.
This was a public event, the opening of a Children's Home. The polite new way of saying Orphanage.
Why she had to remove the purple dye from her hair for this she had no idea. She wasn't even allowed to wear her contacts. First of all they're prescription contacts now, so instead of having cool purple eyes, she had to wear glasses. Black hair and blue eyes, if she wasn't so tanned she could pass as another Fenton kid.
Not that there would be anything wrong with that sometimes... Sam bite her lip to chase away the naughty Tucker voice whispering in her ear. But maybe she could get a few photos with Danny before she re-dyed her hair and ditched the glasses again...
"Why, I remember it like it was only yesterday when Pam and I adopted Samantha-"
"What!" Sam turned to face her parents - The Manson's. "I'm adopted?"
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Diamondback | [1]
a/n: i love this series and i haven’t even finished out the ending yet
warnings: Mentions of cheating, mentions of pregnancy (not reader), mentions of alcohol
summary: Pine, Arizona. You’ve touched down in Phoenix and driven up to a relatively normal sized city, more than ready to see your best friend and grossly underprepared for an interview you got twelve hours ago. It’s hard to tell if you’re ready, but now you have to be. It’s time to chase the light.
You weren’t surprised that the Hotshot Fire Station wasn’t located in town, but on a backroad that was in a patch of sand, surrounded by high mountains. Sand has already contaminated your boots and hair by the time you had exited the airport in Phoenix in the early morning. A manila folder sat in between your hands as you looked at the silver building, nerves dancing up and down your spine. The sun was bearing down on you, something that used to really be your friend.
Change is good. Change is supposed to be good, right? So why am I nervous? Don’t be nervous. People can see when you’re nervous. Quit it. Quit it!
Swallowing a bit of your nervousness, you moved out of the sun and into the building. You opened the door and walked into what appeared like the front room - it was painted a soft beige, floor made of sealed concrete and decorated with mismatched couches and seats - you could hear the clink of workout equipment down the hall, the smell of air freshener was dull.
This was so much different than your Firewatch tower in Yellowstone National Park; it was a two day hike to it, there was a babbling brook 50 yards away with a small campsite nearby as well. All you had was your radio, books, and binoculars to keep you company for two to four months out of the year, as well as an old laptop that was connected to very shitty ethernet. You had many years of firewatching under your belt, you had taken classes for fire science and wildfire safety, as well as EMT training just in case one of your fellow fire watchers had a medical emergency. You were well prepared for this job, to be a 141 Hotshot.
The 141 Hotshots were the second municipal hotshot crew to ever be formed and based in Arizona, holding up legacy of the Sandstone Mountain Hotshots, who had perished in a wildfire less than a decade prior - it was said that the Superintendent of the 141 had trained under the Superintendent of the Sandstone Hotshots only a few years before the tragedy, a man who you had read about before even thinking about becoming a Hotshot seven years ago, especially before your fiance forced you into fire watch. Wildfire firefighting work was grueling, you were very fit because of your work as a fire watcher, but this takes it to a whole new level.
“Y/N!”
You had stopped in the middle of the front room, eyes now focused on the sweaty and dirt stained face of your childhood best friend - Alex Keller. The man had been kind enough to lend you a room in his apartment and put in a good word to the well-respected Superintendent he had worked for for almost seven years. It had been a few years since you had seen him; you had only a backpack waiting in your rental car. You instantly opened your arms and let Alex hug you, not bothered by the sweat or dirt on him.
He patted your back before releasing you, a smile on his mustached face. “I hope that dickhead didn’t cause you any trouble.”
The dickhead he was talking about was your ex-fiancé, the man you definitely did not want to talk or think about. You rolled your eyes. “Alex, I’m fine.”
He gave a small huff before continuing, “Well? Did you decide?”
You held up your folder, to which the man smiled wider.
“Good! I know Price is gonna like you.” He patted your shoulder before he nodded back towards the hallway he had come from. “C’mon, I’ll give you a tour.”
“I don’t need a tour, I need to get to my interview-“ You blubbered before he grabbed your arm, pulling you towards him. “Alex!”
“I’m takin’ you to the interview, dingaling.” He chuckled, your apprehension slipped away and you then began to walk beside him. “So stubborn for no reason.”
“I like to think my stubbornness is a good quality.”
Alex gave you a look, you laughed at him. “Sure.” You opened your mouth to retaliate but he kept talking. “Anyway, I’m goin’ to Farah’s after my shift, you’ll have to fend for yourself. You know where I live, and the code to get in.”
You sighed. “I’ll be fine.”
He patted your back, smile still big. “You always are.” He then looked towards the large equipment you two were walking towards, seeing his fellow Hotshots working out or fixing their gear before he took your arm, stopping you from continuing. You looked to your friend as he spoke, “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s a lot different than just sitting in a tower and just watching a fire.”
“I was a Hotshot for a year, Alex.”
“Yeah, six years ago.”
You were about to retaliate to his argument when you heard your last name be called. You looked around Alex to see a genuinely handsome blond man, standing tall with his hands behind his back. Alex turned to look at the man, a hand then clapped your back. “Y/N, this is Assistant Superintendent Riley.”
Riley had a bored look in his eye, it made your skin bristle a little. He glanced to Alex before going, “Supe’s waitin’ on you, L/N.”
British? You glanced at Alex before he pushed you forwards, you immediately kept walking towards the door Riley was holding open. You nodded to him before walking into the office, watching as the man you were hopefully interviewing with stood.
Damn, what is with having pretty superiors?
“L/N, I’m Superintendent John Price of the 141 Hotshots, and you’ve just met my Assistant, Simon Riley.”
“British?” You blurted out as you held out your hand.
John chuckled a little before he took your hand with a firm handshake. “Yes, Liverpool. Simon’s from Manchester.” He gestured to the seat across from him as you let go and you instantly sat down, then handed him your manila folder. He took it, settling down in his chair as you heard the office door click. Footsteps behind you instantly told you that Simon intended to stay for the interview, noticing in the corner of your eye that Simon now leaned against the wall, watching you. “So, I heard you were fire watch?”
Your full attention was on John now, he had settled onto his arms on his desk. You nodded in response. “Six years.”
“Lonely up there.” Simon commented, John gave him a sharp look before gazing back at you.
“Keller said you were a Hotshot before. Why’d you quit?” You stared at John, noticing he hadn’t even opened your folder of qualifying classes and certificates.
“Fiancé-“ You cut yourself off before continuing. “Ex-fiancé convinced me to do fire watch instead. Said it was less dangerous, which it is.”
There was a twitch in John’s eye. “Then why are you here?”
“For a job-“
“Don’t run around the question. Why would you leave a cushy job that I’m sure pays well in one of the most beautiful National Parks in the world?”
“To be clear, sir,” Your eyes narrowed. “My personal business as to why I decided to change my career so quickly is none of your concern. I can promise it won’t be a problem, I didn’t leave because I was forced or fired.” You glanced to Riley. “And I may have not been on a team for the past few years, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a team player.”
The Superintendent in front of you chuckled, your facial expression didn’t change but your chest tightened.
I’ve done it again. There goes my new job. Rest in peace my independence - I’m gonna have to move in with Mom.
“You have all of your qualifications?”
A moment of shock stopped you from speaking, but you pushed through it, confusion flooding through your chest. “Uh, yeah. In the folder, fire science, EMT, fire safety training-“
“Where were you a Hotshot?” Simon’s voice made you look over to him, your answer instant, “Diamond Mountain.”
Simon whistled. “Up near Reno?”
You nodded as you looked back to John. “Was tough. No one liked me on the team except the Supe. Said I had potential.”
He had finally opened your file folder, flipping through the papers with almost blatant disregard for any of the information on the printed pages. He closed the folder after only looking through it for fifteen seconds, tossing the file back onto the desk. He settled on his elbows as he leaned forwards. “That Supe gave you flying colors when I called him.” Oh thank you, Breaker, thank you. Best Supe ever. “Said he was disappointed to see you go to fire watch so quickly.” You kept stoic, watching as John stared back. “You’re not gonna quit on me, are you?”
“No sir.”
“Not gonna run off when shit hits the fan? Or use this as a step to get to structure?”
“No sir.”
With one nod, John sat back in his chair.
“The crew’s going on a hike.” He nudged his chin towards the door. “Got running shoes, Firewatch?”
With a smile on your face, you nodded.
Summers in your fire watch tower were hot and dry - you used to sit at the worn desk, a book you’ve read thousands of times under your fingertips, as you watched over the large fields of brush and the faraway whispers of dense forests in the heart of Yellowstone. The four fans about the small one room cabin were on high, trying to move air around and keep you from overheating. It was nice, calm - even when you were watching a wildfire one year with high distance binoculars. Something about relaxing in the cabin and being over ten thousand feet in the air - it gave you a sense of calm. After years of having to fight to prove yourself, somewhere you can just be yourself was dropped into your lap.
Your heart was in your throat, you supposed sand had lodged into your esophagus by the time the 141 Hotshots had hit the second mile of the ‘hike’. Alex was kind enough to stay behind with you, not saying a word as the jog up a steep terrain was about to throw you into the hands of God. Both Price and Riley were at the head of the single file line, it slithered through the well defined trail like a Western Diamondback Rattlesnake - poised and ready to strike. There was a soft jingle that came from Alex, the sound of his two necklaces, and there was only the chchchchch of shoes against loose gravel and sand.
You were supposed to be up in that stupid one room cabin in Yellowstone by now, but here you were. Pushing yourself well beyond your now adjusted limits, you didn’t feel the need to entertain Price's statement in your head - you didn’t leave your ‘cushy’ job in Yellowstone for fun; you didn’t even want to go, but there was no way you were staying anywhere near Justin and that oddly sweet southern girl he got pregnant. You quite literally packed up three outfits, a couple pairs of underwear, and only took two pairs of socks and shoes. You had nothing else with you, anger pumped through your veins so intensely, that you wouldn’t dare go get the rest of your belongings without someone to keep you in check.
“Don’t beat yourself up.”
You looked to your right, seeing that Alex had slowed to your pace to talk to you. You then gazed back in front of you, seeing the person in front of Alex had a shirt tagged ‘Soap’. What the Hell kind of name is Soap? “I’m not.”
Alex chuckled. “Sure.” His elbow hit your arm, your head whipped to look at him. “It’s okay to be upset.”
You glared at him, eyebrows furrowed as you kept pace. “I don’t want to talk about it.” You pushed yourself further, closing the distance with the Soap Guy by a couple of feet. Alex was instantly at your side again. If you weren’t trying to be on your best behavior, you’d throw a punch directly in his smug face. He was right when he said Justin was bad news, and you were dreading the ‘I told you so’. “Can we do this later?”
Without even looking, you knew Alex gave you the look that he always gave you - you’re lying and I know you are, so I’m gonna wait until you’re not being stupid to talk about it. “I got you a key for my apartment, it’s coming in tomorrow. I didn’t really have time to clear my spare room, though.”
The sun was burning you, you regretted not thinking about sunscreen in that Phoenix airport store, you regretted not having better jogging gear, and you definitely regretted not packing your suitcase. You would have all of your hiking gear, but this job was quite literally a last minute decision you made in an airport bar. But did you regret this?
Your head looked out to the right, watching the scenery slowly change as you jogged behind the line of well-trained or in-training Hotshots. Golden colored brush, tall trees that you observed were pines, and an occasional cactus. You then looked back to Alex, his head faced ahead. He had truly grown into a handsome man, much more confident than that young adult you left in New Orleans six years ago. Sun-kissed skin and obviously gelled hair, a smile that seemed permanent; your best friend had done well for himself, you thought you had done the same. But your life had exploded into a million pieces, cutting into your not so delicate skin. You had to prove yourself, you had to do this to gain control again or everything might fall apart again.
You weren’t quite sure that you would actually regret this change, but anything was better than that one bedroom apartment in the Irish Channel in New Orleans, and with the witch of a woman who called herself your mother.
You turned your head forwards. “I’ll try to get out of your hair as quick as I can.”
“Don’t rush it.”
“Alex-“ You turned to look at him, but realized the group had slowed, you stopped on a dime.
The blond looked at you, giving you another look but it was one you couldn’t read. His hand settled on your back, pushing you to stand in between him and the stopped Soap Guy. “We’ll chat later.”
The booming voice of John Price made you snap to attention, “This is what we have been assigned to preserve. Take a breath.” You took a breath through your nose, the air tasted nothing like Yellowstone - the air in the valley you stood above was bitter and gritty, but it felt clean. “Then look out onto these thousands of acres of forest, admire it.” Your eyes fluttered as you gazed upon thousands of acres of dense pine trees, fields of brush and grass, and mountains that danced through the landscape. A twinge of guilt trembled through your stomach, guilt that you had left your entire life for an incredibly dangerous job that can get you killed at almost any turn. Your eyes moved from the horizon to the bearded man, watching as he fixed the band on his watch without even a glance to it, his eyes on all of the crew you only had a moment to glance over earlier. You watched his eyes scan every single person’s face before his eyes landed on you, maybe just for a moment too long before he looked to Alex.
“Breathe it in, because this will be one of the last times that you can look upon this sight without any negativity.”
It was truly a sight that stood before you. Breathing in air you’ve never had the chance to before, seeing the wonders of nature in a different place of America was incredible. Your lungs burned, you hadn’t had a fast-paced and tough hike since you were a Diamond Mountain Hotshot. It was good, you knew it was good for you - your eyes wandered back to Price.
“Because once I’m done with you,” His blue eyes landed upon you again, his voice sharp like a dagger as it sliced the sentiment into your brain. “all you’ll see is fuel.”
Okay, get yourself out of the gutter. He’s your boss, not a fucking treat to dangle in front of yourself! You literally just broke up with Justin, you cannot get the hots for your hot boss! KEEP IT TOGETHER!
He gave you a smirk before he started to jog towards you - then past you, then Riley behind him, and the crew followed. You waited for the Soap Guy to go for you to turn and go, but you noticed in the crew that you weren’t the only female - you didn’t catch that earlier when you went out to get your running shoes from your rental car. The only one who even looked at you gave you a smirk, she had almost black hair cut right at her shoulders, covered in tattoos. She was four people ahead of you, so it shouldn’t be hard to find her and hopefully make a friend out of Tattoo Girl. Your eyes then moved to the bold letters on the shoulders of the Soap Guy. You then saw him look over his shoulder at you.
What the fuck is with all of these guys being pretty?
“Say ye'r th' fresh meat. Alex said a lot o' guid things.” He had a wild mohawk and a charming smile, his fingers pinched the front of his shirt so he could somewhat fan himself.
“Scottish.” You remarked as Soap chuckled, following the person in front of you - you followed too, but he had moved to jog beside you like Alex. “Why do they call you Soap?”
The man looked over onto his back, tsking before giving someone ahead in line an invisible dagger through their chest. “Damn bastard wasn't suppose tae put that on mah shirt.”
Alex elbowed you again, you kept your eyes forwards now. The trail was becoming steep again, but it was easier to descend than to climb earlier. Your lungs were burning, but you were somehow pushing through. Adjusting and all that jazz. This shit is gonna suck with all the weight I have to carry during drills. Hopefully I get used to the heat quickly or else this might actually break me.
The Soap Guy cleared his throat, nudging you with a knuckle, you didn’t spare a moment to look at him. “Top secret!”
“He put Dawn dish soap in the dishwasher one night, and we came back to the station to a floor of bubbles. So his name is Soap.” Alex snickered, a smile grew on your face as Soap audibly deflated.
“So why aren’t you named Bubbles?” You kept your arms close to your chest as the route kept winding around, both men allowing you the worn gravel path as they opted for the sand and patches of grass.
Soap scoffed, “What, so I can be th’ ‘prettiest girl at th’ party’?”
A cackle of laughter came from the man you were following, another man with a nickname written on the back of his shirt - but he was conscious about the sun by wearing what looked like a well loved baseball cap. In big black letters in between his shoulder blades was ‘GAZ’, and Gaz kept cackling like a hyena. Soap took a couple fast strides forwards, immediately tugging Gaz into his sweaty armpit. The man screeched, Soap yelling some Scottish obscenities that you wouldn’t have been able to decipher if you tried. All Alex did was laugh, you watched as Soap now jogged next to Gaz, who was trying to get out of his hold.
“That’s the Team Leaders for you.”
You spared a look to Alex. “Team Leaders? Them?”
Your friend shrugged. “For as stupid as they act now, they’re amazing in the field.”
“Good to know.” Your legs burned, chest roared in pain. You gazed out onto the landscape, now noticing that the silver dot in the distance was turning into the Fire Station. “I could use a drink.”
“I also feel that you need a drink.”
You reached out and smacked Alex’s arm, snapping at him, “That’s not funny.”
He glanced to you, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “There’s a quiet bar in town, I’ll send you the address.”
By the time you had gotten into your rental car after being dismissed with the rest of the Hotshots, you were exhausted. Lungs hummed with a slight burn, your back splattered with aches. It wasn’t hard to know you needed a stiff drink, especially after changing career paths drastically and uprooting your entire life.
You ditched going to Alex’s apartment as soon as you realized you really only had three outfits and barely any necessities to last you four days. Instead of going out to the nearest Walmart to get some new underwear and some shampoo that wasn’t Alex’s, you found yourself at the polished dark oak stool of a warmly lit quiet bar. There were barely a handful of souls in the small and cozy bar, it was well decorated and taken care of - yet you haven’t seen a bartender for twenty minutes. At least you were tired enough not to care, just glad you remembered deodorant when you had gotten back to your car. The bar had good air conditioning, softly blowing cool air around the black and gold themed bar.
Your phone had been off all day, but now it sat in your hands, on and with non-stop notifications. You had instantly put on Do Not Disturb, upset about it. Hundreds of calls from your ex-fiancé, almost a thousand texts, begging for forgiveness, then blaming it on you, then apologizing. Next was the calls from his mother, his three sisters, his brother - all people you had considered family. All were either asking where you were or asking to talk, to have Justin explain. You wouldn’t dare listen to them, wouldn’t dare listen to their defense for a slimy cheater. You wished you could just shove one sentiment down their throats:
He’s a liar, pathetic, mean, and he’s gonna get what’s coming to him. I don’t fucking cater to him anymore. He’s gonna have to learn how to suck the energy out of someone else.
The only message you wanted to read was from Justin’s father, a man you respected deeply and one you knew despised cheating. In your bones, you knew that man would take your side, even if the rest of his family took your ex-fiancé’s. The only reason why you didn’t tap on the message was because a voice had broken you from your focus.
“Thought I told you to go home and rest?”
You looked up in surprise, seeing the familiar face of Simon… behind the bar. Your eyebrows furrowed, “I thought you were a Hotshot?”
The blond shrugged in his white button up and black vest, resting his tattooed hands on his side of the bar. “Gotta have a year round job, had to pick up a shift for Lucy.”
You didn’t look away from Simon when you turned off your phone. “141 Hotshots aren’t year round?”
“God no.” He shook his head, pulling out a clean glass and a napkin, letting it settle on the bar in front of your folded arms before setting the cold glass in front of you. “We’re only mandatory for 90 consecutive days a year - I still need this cash for gas.”
A nod, you settled your phone in your lap. “Long Island, please.”
His hand was reaching for water, but it had stopped. He gave you a sharp look, a warning. “You almost passed out coming down the trail. My statement still stands,” He took the glass back, pouring water into it from the pitcher he retrieved only a minute ago. “Go home.”
Your phone buzzed in your lap. The pit of despair in your stomach got deeper. “One drink.”
He placed the glass of water in front of you. “Drink it, then go home.”
A straw was set in front of you, but you didn’t move your stare from the blond’s face. “I just moved across the country with the clothes on my back and barely enough money to rent a car.” You moved the glass off of the napkin, setting it a few inches away as you continued, “I’m moving into my best friend’s apartment because my eight year relationship ended ‘cause my fiance had to get his dick wet with another girl for an entire year.”
The stare of your Assistant Superintendent would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t waist deep in misery; his eyebrows furrowed just a little, his lips pressed into a thin line. His hand raised from the bar, grabbing another glass.
“Not to mention his mistress is pregnant.”
He let out a grunt, moving away from you to grab the liquor. “One drink.”
The buzzing phone on your lap did nothing to deter your small smile. “Thanks, Assistant Supe.”
He turned around, a small chuckle escaped him as he said, “You can just call me Captain like everyone else.”
“Captain Riley,” You smiled, he gave you a glare over his shoulder. “Thank you.”
He turned back around, grabbing his bottle of liquor before returning to his spot from before. He began to make your Long Island Iced Tea, eyes kept on his work as he spoke, “Remember to be at the firehouse at 6am. This is your only drink tonight.” Ice cubes clinked the glass as they were dropped in. “You got a ride home?”
You shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”
Simon looked up from his work, meeting your eyes with a sharp gaze. “I’ll take you home.”
A flush ran through your chest, eyebrows raising as you blubbered, “No, I’ll be fine, I promise-”
His hand waved a little. “Just wait for me.”
You smiled at him. “Thanks, Cap.”
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crossed wires, ch.2. m!spiderman!reader x civilian!scara. friends to lovers, childhood friends. 2.6k words. warnings: a car almost hits someone, no one is hurt. read ch.1/the teaser here. and remember to leave feedback if you enjoyed!
there’s quiet chatter in the blindingly bright classroom of his morning lecture. the professor is filing through papers in his office a room over, so students are free to flit from one table to the next and examine the different instruments organized for the laboratory.
he takes a seat in the chair at a table farthest from the door, a good distance from the board. it used to be an issue – just last year he was squinting to make out little letters on a powerpoint slide – but now, his gaze is crystal clear. must’ve gone to the campus café together, he notices, eyes glancing at the neighboring table of pre-med sorority girls sipping through straws while trading their phones around.
“i don’t think i’d be into him if i could see his face,” one says, passing a phone back. “like, not to sound shallow…”
her friend pulls her hair back into a pony, shrugging, “so what if you can or can’t see his face? either way, he’s still spiderman.”
“what if he’s bald?” the third one asks, scrolling to another video of the hero taken from the night before.
“some bald people are cute!” the other girl protests. “and he’s better than anyone on your roster,” she says, earning a laugh and a smack to her shoulder.
and despite them paying him no mind, he shrinks into his seat, embarrassed. he keeps an eye and an ear out, though, unable to staunch his own curiosity. he hadn’t had time this morning to see the videos the public managed to catch. the haphazard stop of a grand theft auto almost escalated into a sticky car chase with him attached to the trunk, flying in the wind like a piece of paper.
“i would let him,” the first girl admits. “unless he’s like, over forty.”
“that would make it even better,” one of them giggles.
“what are you staring at?” a familiar voice cuts through his eavesdropping and he tilts his head to the side just before scara can shove him forward, evading the playful blow. “how do you always manage to do that?”
“‘cause i know you so well,” he says, not looking up. “good morning, scara.”
“yeah, hey,” scara mumbles while pulling out the seat beside him. “signora texted me this morning saying she’s using one of her free skips and childe’s traveling for a varsity game.”
“so… we’re alone?” he tries not to sound too excited.
“for lecture and lab, yeah. it’s in pairs anyway. they’ll have to make it up together.”
a yelp from the table over startles them both as one of the girls fights her friends for her phone back in a fit of giggles. he tears his eyes away from them and looks to scara, pulling out materials for class.
“hey…” he bids and scara hums expectantly. “how do you feel about spiderman?” he rubs the back of his neck. “i heard them talking about him earlier…”
scara raises an eyebrow. “what about him?”
“like,” he blows air, “would you consider yourself like, i dunno, a fan?”
“do you?”
he chews his lip. “i-i guess?”
scara nods slowly and shrugs. “hmn.”
“what?”
“don’t really have an opinion. i haven’t thought about it.” scara’s pause stretches into seconds before he opens his mouth again. he likes to make people wait for him. “i guess if it’s one guy… it’s nice that he can protect people from like… i dunno, freak evil scientist shit,” scara says. “vigilante shit is weird. i’ll think about it more.”
“mn. i didn’t really mean morally,” he says, twisting the string of his hoodie around his finger.
“then how did you mean it?” scara asks, tapping the tip of his capped pen against his lips.
“do you think he’s… like…” he asks. “you know…”
scara’s lip puckers like he’s tasted something sour. “are you into him?” he asks like lightning.
“i asked first.”
“i haven’t looked hard enough.”
“fine, then me neither.”
scara laughs, crossing his arms. “yeah right, you’ve totally got spiderman underwear, maybe some toys to match,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“i do not!” his voice cracks with indignation. “he’s not my type at all.”
embers burn in scara’s heart, pumping hot blood to his face and turning it pink. he props his chin up with his hand, head firmly turned. “and what’s your type?” he mumbles, muffled through his fingers.
but the professor strides into the room. the chatter stalls as he readies his powerpoint and podium before staring expectantly at the clock to strike eight on the dot. textbooks slam onto the table, laptops open, pens and pencils hit paper – their conversation lost in biology.
~
he hands scara a pair of forceps, opening and closing his mouth like a fish while a question bounces around his mind a few times.
“you look stupid,” scara says, catching him in the periphery.
“i like people smarter than me,” he blurts. “a-and… mean to me. what do you like?”
scara blinks.
“still on this?” he asks, blasé concealing how his hands falter.
“don’t squeeze too hard,” his labmate says with his way of twisting a command into the whisper of a suggestion. at anyone else’s correction, irritation would pickle scara’s mood.
“are those your only qualifications?” scara snaps.
he blinks. “should i have more?”
“lots of girls are smarter than you,” he points out. “your iq’s not anything special, anyway.”
“i said people?”
“what?”
“i said people smarter than me,” he says.
scara swallows hard, looking up to meet confusion written in those eyes. “oh.” he mumbles, heart slamming uncomfortably hard against his ribcage. “…then even more people are smarter than you.”
“but not a lot of people are mean to me,” he points out, reaching over to turn the burner off before their solution bubbles over. “not like it makes a difference, anyway,” he says with a decorative smile. “because maybe the people mean to me aren’t very smart at all.”
if he didn’t know any better, scara might think he was flirting. “maybe,” he blurts, nervousness ballooning in his throat.
“so, you didn’t know?”
“know what?” he snaps, blush blooming.
“people not girls.”
“you don’t talk about it,” scara points out. “you’re secretive about… that.” he always has been, dodging truth or dare at middle school sleepovers and avoiding drinking games at high school parties like he’s afraid he’ll admit something or kiss the wrong person.
“so, you thought i was off the table?” he teases with a half-smile.
well, yeah. scara’s only ever seen him with a girl before. he remembers, the colors still vibrant and the shapes still sharp, unlocking their cramped first-year dorm without warning only to catch him tussling teeth and tongue with his half-sister, mona. scara’s mouth twitches into the ghost of a grimace in the wake of the resurfaced memory.
this time, scara successfully pushes him away, but he’s giggling as he takes stumbling steps back.
he can’t deny how revolutionary the admission is. they’d somehow veered into a timeline where the weed of affection growing a woody stem in scara’s stomach could blossom. maybe he could even pluck it as it grows up his throat and hand it to the boy next to him. and maybe he wouldn’t sneer. maybe he might quite like it, think it nice and keep it in a vase.
a part of scara hopes he might have a type. that type. smarter than him, sure. mean to him, of course. with dark hair, blunt bangs, and maybe… ugh.
“i can’t believe you kissed my sister,” scara mutters under his breath.
“i-i, what? where is this coming from?” he squeaks back, throwing a pair of hands into the air. “that was, like, years ago and it— you know what? you keep dodging my questions,” he accuses.
scara rolls his eyes, scissors slicing fine white lines of paper into test strips.
“so, what kind of people do you like?”
“i like guys dumber than me, obviously,” scara mumbles. nice to me, he thinks to himself. “maybe someone funny. i don’t know.”
and this time, in his periphery, he catches sight of a bit back smile, lips stretched over hidden teeth. “spiderman’s your type, then?”
“i wouldn’t know,” scara grumbles at the reintroduction. like the arrival of a rival, he bitterly reflects. “maybe he’s yours. i don’t care for celebrities.”
“fine,” he draws out the syllable, almost annoyed. a hand pushes scara’s shoulder as he dips the test strips into the solution, knocking him a step to the left and interrupting his ministrations. pressure builds like steam in the teakettle of scara’s little body, but before he can open his mouth to admonish, his labmate is staring at his phone.
“gotta use the bathroom. might take awhile. feels explosive,” he mumbles, body moving to catch up with how faraway his mind has already run. like a flash, it happened.
and scara grabs his wrist before he can take a second step.
“you’re lying,” he says, eyes a little wide as if he’s surprised with himself… surprised by the motion sickness surging from the unpredictable swings between giddy excitement to sharp frustration to sluggish disappointment.
the boy looks from scara’s hold, tight enough to cut off circulation, to his eyes. surprise mirrors surprise. his mouth opens, but this time, nothing comes out.
scara looks away. he pulls away. he makes himself smaller. “whatever. just go. fuck off.”
he walks away without a word.
~
he sips from a juicebox while mentally mapping his patrol route for the rainy afternoon on his walk home from classes. he couldn’t make it back from the corner store robbery before the end of biology and he winces when he remembers the look on scara’s face. guilty conscience manipulates his fingers into sending another apology text that’s delivered but never read. maybe if he finishes the report before scara opens the document, his haughty prince will forgive him.
muscle memory takes him up a staircase, fingers fishing a ring of keys from his pocket to unlock a heavy 19th century door. it swings open on rusty hinges, screaming loud enough to inspire ghost stories at least three floors down. he gives a tentative hello to his aunt, smoke billowing from the kitchen as may disassembles the beeping alarm dangling from the ceiling. she gives him an apologetic smile and he rolls up his sleeves to open rusted-shut windows, fanning for a moment before she shoos his help away.
he holes up in his bedroom, keeping a careful ear listening till minutes later, like clockwork, he hears a goodbye followed by the heavy door swinging closed with another awful groan. after double-checking the stove to avoid another building fire, he’s ready to exit.
patrol is slow. between stopping a simple collision and rescuing a cat from a tree, nothing calls his immediate attention. and now, he sits in wait. the sky looks heavy, but not exhausted — just tired enough to droop. he blinks rain from the eyes of his mask, thinking to himself how useful it might be to have doc ock’s personal phone number so the guy could shoot him a text when he’s on the move. until he catches sight of an achingly pretty face amongst a sea of multi-colored umbrellas.
it isn’t stalking, he thinks to himself as he sticks close to the wall across the narrow street, unspotted by pedestrians below. just curiosity. making sure he’s safe. scara disappears into a flower shop. a few minutes later, he blossoms from the door holding a small bouquet of baby’s breath and a single carnation, eyes glued to his phone as he takes a stumbling step forward onto the sidewalk.
he smiles, a big tenderness swelling in his chest as he imagines himself wrapping an arm around scara’s shoulders to steady his gait.
until there’s an eerie tingle singing up the back of his neck.
the sound of a taxi hitting the brakes after a sharp turn echoes between buildings. tires hydroplane across slick city streets and the yellow cab hurtles over the curb like a speed bump, giving scara a single second between looking up and being hit by two tons of metal.
webs have shot out and stuck to the back of the car. the force of his superhuman pull, leveraged by swinging around a telephone pole and a streetlight, brings the taxi to a screeching halt just a hair’s length away from where scara stands.
some onlookers offer a quick cheer as spiderman jumps down onto the sidewalk before returning to busy lives, but a few linger to watch and film the superhero skitter over to the boy standing stock still in front of the car, frozen in shock.
“are you okay?” he asks, hands reach scara’s shoulders just before he’s shoved off with alien strength — shocked into the realization that he is a complete stranger.
he takes a step back and lets his eyes flit to the taxi to check if the occupants are okay. the driver’s stumbling out, unharmed and apologetic as he surveys the damage to his vehicle.
the hero’s attention snaps back to scara when he stutters, “s-sorry.” he’s white-knuckling the bouquet in his hands, stems broken.
spiderman clears his throat, coughs once or twice as he tries to drop his pitch, “your flowers,” he says. scara shakes his head like he’s coming to and looks down, quickly loosening his grip. “that was scary,” he supplies.
scara swallows hard. “yeah,” he manages. “holy shit. um, thanks,” he bows his head with gratitude. “yeah, thank you,” he repeats a bit firmer.
“no problem,” he says, devoid of all usual disarming charm as his mind conjures a world where he took a minute longer during lunch or made a left instead of a right on the boulevard.
actually, he almost throws up.
scara walks off.
he stares after him, legs moving to catch up quicker than his thoughts can.
scara glances to his right and almost jumps. “w-what? why are you following me? did i forget something?” he slows down, almost to a stop. he looks around at the eyes glued to their interaction, spotting a few phones pointed their way.
“yeah, my number,” he jokes, the delivery falling flat, tripping over the crack in his voice.
scara’s face twists in confusion. “what?”
“a-actually, i can’t give you that,” he stutters. “sorry. it’s just, that was scary. and i was worried and i’m still worried. like, i’m shaking,” he says, raising a hand to show scara the tremor. “but maybe that’s ‘cause you’re really, like, totally beautiful.” oh my god, shut the fuck up, he thinks to himself in a panic. “that’s not what i meant, sorry. wait, i do mean that. you are beautiful. that’s not the point, though, i wanted to make sure that… you’re okay? because if i’m like this, how do you feel? you know?”
he spoke so much for so long that, at the end of his stream of consciousness, the street somehow feels quiet despite the bustle.
with wide eyes, scara tries to placate. “i-i’m okay. thanks to you,” he offers, uncertainty dripping from the words.
“good!” he chirps, clasping his hands together. “okay, yeah. good.”
scara shies away from the superhero and his onslaught of audience attention as pedestrians rubberneck. “i’m gonna… go now,” he says, slowly backing away with another nod.
“right!” spiderman says, “yeah, be safe! safe-r, i guess…” he calls after scara as he’s swallowed by raincoats and umbrellas. stupid, stupid, stupid, he thinks to himself. even superhero status can’t save the idiot he becomes in front of indigo eyes.
the small crowd descends, a courageous few opening the avenue to a few lucky celebrity selfies. ugh, he always has a hard time saying no.
#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#i tried to incorporate prev criticisms tbh LOL#i think i avoided using a name placeholder for reader entirely this time around#ch 3 is almost written tbh it just needs heavy editing#guys it literally gets kind of angsty#anyway i really hope you like this i spent a lot of time on it#and i would love if someone left a comment or an ask#:3#its my first time writing scarafic in foreveeervevevrrr#as we know#tbh#the absence has been sorely felt
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Freedom (Poppy Playtime Fic) Ch. 1
A/N: Hello! This is the first chapter of my Poppy Playtime fic! This is also available on Wattpad so the link for that is below. I hope you enjoy, thank you for reading!
Wattpad link: Ch. 1
Don't look back. Don't look back. Keep going. Keep going. Run. Run. RUN!!!
Her thoughts screamed in her mind as her legs moved faster than her brain could process or comprehend. The rough panting that arose from her lungs and the exhaustion she felt couldn't outweigh the adrenaline coursing through her veins, forcing her to continue on. As she ran, the sound of a car's engine in the distance racing towards her only made her legs go even faster.
Nadia desperately scanned her surroundings for somewhere to hide and take refuge. The location she was currently at offered no such comfort as she was quite literally in the middle of nowhere. No cars, no houses, no people. Absolutely nothing or anything that could help her at the moment. Finding something, anything to hide in, was vital for her survival at the moment.
As if her prayer was answered, an abandoned factory that looked oddly familiar to her in the near distance was spotted and without hesitation, she raced towards it. Tears continued to endlessly stream down her face as she got closer to what she hoped would be her sanctuary. This is not how she expected her day to go. All she wanted to do was go hiking in the woods and spend some time resting by the same waterfall she had gone to for years. Getting kidnapped and having to fight for her life was most certainly not on her list and she genuinely was afraid she would not survive this encounter.
Once she was in front of the building, Nadia raced down the driveway and to the side of the building and spotted a window, wasting no time picking up some rocks and stones on the ground and using them to smash out the window. Ignoring the presence of the broken glass, she hurriedly climbed in head-first. Upon entering the building, she ducked under the window, only daring to poke her head up just enough to see outside.
Nadia's heart stopped for a moment when she saw the car that was chasing her fly down the road, seemingly unaware she had taken refuge in this building. An audible sigh of relief left her as the car continued on the road. She was safe for now. For now.
Standing to her feet, she took a few steps into the lobby and collapsed to her knees and then to her side from sheer exhaustion. A groan left her as she turned onto her back, now staring at the ceiling as ragged pants left her overused lungs. Raising her hand slightly as she panted, she touched the wound on her neck and hissed at the slight burning feeling. Luckily for her, she was able to fight back and get away before the knife was able to cut deep enough and cause her to bleed out fatally.
Twenty minutes felt like an eternity for her as she lay on the cold floor, getting the much-needed break she needed. Still staring at the ceiling, tears threatened to stream down her face again as she finally processed the ordeal she went through. The fear of almost having her life ripped from her was a feeling she hadn't truly felt before and she did not like how it felt.
As her adrenaline wore off and the exhaustion slowly faded, she sat up, using her arms to hold herself up as her eyes scanned the environment around her. This place looked eerily familiar but figuring out why was impossible for her at the present moment. Using her arms as leverage, Nadia pulled herself off the ground and began to properly inspect the space around her.
The sight of blue finally caught her attention. Her previous adrenaline didn't let her brain process the sight when she first arrived but now she could properly see and ingest her surroundings. As she approached what she believed was a statue, the appearance became more clear to her. The "statue" was tall, way taller than a typical human, and was almost twice her height. It had blue fur, big yellow hands followed by two huge beady black eyes, and a big red smile. Looking at the statue for a moment, she looked down and noticed a poster board in front of her.
The name read "Huggy Wuggy" with a 1984 birth/start date. Looking back up at Huggy Wuggy, she immediately remembered who they were and where she was. This was the Playtime Co. Toy Factory that was abruptly abandoned ten years ago. Memories of being a child and coming to this same factory flashed through her mind. She remembered her mother constantly purchasing plushies for her from this toy factory, including Huggy Wuggy and others. Nadia also remembered that her mother and stepfather worked here and that was the sole reason she was here years ago. While her parents worked, she spent time in Playcare, not only playing with the other children but also having some school lessons here before she was old enough to officially go to public school. Playcare was essentially her daycare and then as she grew older it became her pre-K and then became her after-school daycare when she started to attend school. It was the best decision for her household as it spared the expensive cost of childcare during the work week and she was able to be around and play with other children and receive education at the same time. Nadia's mother made her happiness, socialization, and education a top priority for her child and wanted her to have a good childhood.
Nadia also remembered that fateful day, August 8th, 1995, when her parents went missing after leaving that morning to go to work. When Nadia came home later that day, she expected her mother to pick her up and bring her back to the factory. That was the typical routine, Nadia's mother would take her lunch break later in the day so she could use that time to pick up Nadia after she got off the bus and bring her to the factory, letting her play in PlayCare until both of her parents' shifts were over later that evening. Except that's not what happened on August 8th. Her mother wasn't home when Nadia arrived and neither she nor her stepfather came home when their shifts would have ended.
The day after their disappearance, Nadia knocked on one of the neighbor's doors and informed them her parents hadn't back come home. That day was a blur for her but she remembered the police officers that came and took her to a new house as she was now in the custody of the state. August 8th and August 9th were two detrimental days that caused her once happy joyful life to turn into a years-long hellscape in the foster care system.
Trying not to reflect too much on those awful memories, Nadia headed into a room and looked around, her eyes catching a case with a strange contraption with hands connected to it, followed by a VHS tape next to it. Picking up the tape, she inserted it in the small box TV next to it and stepped back to observe the screen.
The tape had referred to the contraption as a "GrabPack" and noted that it could be used to open doors and operate certain mechanics in the factory. Curiosity getting the better of her, she opened the case and picked up the GrabPack, making a note about how it was a little bit heavy for her but nonetheless, she put the shoulder straps on and tightened it, making it fit snuggly against her chest. Slipping her hands into the GrabPack's hands, she admired it for a moment before shooting the hand out, the unexpected force sending her flying backward, nearly falling to the ground but was able to catch herself before doing so. She decided to spend a couple of minutes getting used to the GrabPack as she deemed it necessary to get around the factory.
After she felt comfortable enough using the GrabPack, Nadia went into another room, using one of the hands to open the door and enter. Eyes scanning the room, she saw machines and assembly lines, quickly figuring out this was the production zone for making the famous toys Playtime Co. was successful for. The thought of making her own toy to take as a souvenir crossed her mind and she wasn't hesitant in making that happen if it was possible.
The time it took to figure out the systems and how the machines worked made her feel slightly embarrassed but alas, she figured it out and a small smile formed as she held the "Candy Cat" plush in her hand and headed towards a different door. It did take her a moment to figure out that the security system involved in opening the door required placing the toy in a case to unlock it. As the door opened, Nadia turned to grab the toy back but a flash of blue appeared down the hallway and she turned to look.
To her horror, the once Huggy Wuggy "statue" she met in the lobby was standing right there in front of her. Her eyes widened as she realized this wasn't a statue, it was a living, breathing toy. How? She had no clue. Although she was in shock, Nadia went to say something, a greeting, or something to acknowledge his presence but froze Huggy's eyes trailed to the still-fresh wound on her neck. There was a moment of silence before literal hell broke loose.
Before she could properly react or say anything, Huggy's mouth opened, exposing razor-sharp teeth as he lunged towards Nadia, causing her to scream in horror and fear, her legs and body turning around and running before her brain could process it.
Frantic eyes scanned the room for a possible exit as she ran, only finding an opening to a vent as an escape exit. Not thinking twice, she made her way into the vent and ran as fast as she could, her speed and adrenaline increasing as Huggy followed her into the vent, desperate to catch her. She had no idea why he was chasing her but she wasn't going to wait around to find out.
What she was going through felt like mouse chase #2 to her as she raced her way through the vents, taking sharp turns trying to elude Huggy which obviously did not work as he was still trailing dangerously close behind her. Tears began to stream down her cheeks again out of fear as she tried to comprehend how she was in this situation, running for her life for the second time today. To say Nadia was terrified was a brutal understatement. Believing she was going to die coursed through her and only made her adrenaline worse. She just wanted to go home and continue to live her life, not die in an abandoned toy factory after she had already been forced to run for her life. This was not fair.
The exit from the vents finally appeared and she ran out, figuring out very quickly she was on a catwalk platform with Huggy still chasing behind her. Glancing over the edge, she took note of how far the drop was and for a moment, seriously contemplated jumping over. As insane and drastic as that idea was, in her frantic mind, she believed falling to her death would be more swift than whatever Huggy was going to do if he caught her.
But before she could jump over, she noticed a box above her on the upper catwalk. Thinking she could slow him down, she hurriedly turned around and used one of the GrabPack's hands to knock the box down, as she saw Huggy getting dangerously closer to her.
As if fate intervened, Huggy Wuggy went to lunge and grab her but was stopped as the box came tumbling down, the force of it snapping the catwalk, sending him falling straight down. Watching in horror, Nadia watched as Huggy hit multiple pipes on the way down, leaving a red blood stain on everything he came into contact with before finally hitting the ground, the impact sound booming in this section of the factory. Glancing over the side, she covered her mouth in shock as she saw Huggy's now lifeless body lying on the floor possibly hundreds of feet below her.
Nadia dropped to her knees and sobbed, her brain going into overdrive from all the trauma and events she just experienced. She began to go into a panic attack, hyperventilating over what happened, and grasped the sides of her head in panic. She killed him. He's dead because of her. Granted, he was desperate to kill her first but she wasn't trying to kill him. Just getting away and getting out of the factory was all she wanted. Now, she was trapped in here and lost deep inside the factory, knowing she wouldn't be able to get out on her own.
Finally standing back up and wiping her tears, Nadia continued down the catwalk and stopped at the entrance of a door with a red poppy flower painted on the door and walls around it. Stepping inside, Nadia made the smart choice of locking the door, hoping that would provide her sanctuary and safety for now. Inside the room looked similar to a house with a living room and what looked like rooms connecting to it.
As she made her way to the old couch, she slumped onto it on her side, staring at the wall in front of her as breathly pants left her. Exhaustion crept up on Nadia as her eyes became too heavy to force open and found herself unwillingly fading into unconsciousness. This entire ordeal literally caused her to pass out from both the mental and physical exhaustion she suffered.
At least for now in the moment, she was safe. How long she would be was a question she couldn't answer, but for now, she accepted the peace of slumber. For now, she was safe and protected.
#kai.fics#kai's works#poppy playtime#poppy playtime fanfics#poppy playtime fics#catnap#dogday#huggy wuggy#kissy missy#poppy
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Lavender No Outbreak AU - Ch. 3
Things change for the Miller family. A continuation of Lavender No Outbreak AU Ch. 1-2 found on Tumblr here.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Warnings: Just a lot of fluff. Whole fic as smut and some mature themes so Minors DNI 18+ only. No use of Y/N.
Length: 3.3K
Friday, January 16, 2004
“Last chance, Miller,” you smiled, elbowing him playfully in the side. “Think Tommy would drive the getaway car if you need…”
“Nope,” Tommy shook his head. “That idiot’s on his own if he takes off now. He fucks up again though, Kid, just gimme a call…”
He gave you a wink.
“Language Uncle Tommy,” Sarah looked scandalized. “There are children present!”
“Just you,” Tommy winked. “You don’t count.”
“Thank you,” Joel said wryly. “Thank you for both of those things, Tommy.”
“Any time, brother,” he clapped Joel on the shoulder with a smirk before leaning around him to talk to you. “His feet are plenty warm, Kid.”
“You think a little formality is gonna scare me off now?” Joel tugged you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Thought the bureaucracy might do it,” you teased, fidgeting with the small bouquet that Cass had brought you. “Feel a little silly wearing white though.”
“Don’t look silly,” he said. “Most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen…”
“You’re biased,” you said.
“And you’re sure you don’t want to run off and start a commune?” Cass asked. “I’ll leave Josh right now.”
“Hey!” Josh protested.
“Oh hush,” she waved him off.
You laughed.
“I think we’re making it down the aisle, folks,” you smiled.
“About time,” Sarah smiled.
The door to the court room opened.
“The Miller wedding?”
Joel looked at you and smiled.
“Ready Baby?”
He offered you his hand. You smiled and took it.
“Ready.”
You’d never been the type to dream about your wedding day. You never even really wanted to get married, not until you met Joel. After that, you’d thought a lot more about what it would mean to be his wife than the day itself.
But standing at the courthouse with Joel, Sarah, Tommy and Cass? It was exactly the day you wanted.
Joel was right, it really had been more of a formality than anything. When he left a few days after he showed up at your school, things felt a lot more real.
The two of you told Nan together. That you were pregnant, that you were engaged, that you were moving back to Austin. Her cancer had been in remission for more than a year at that point and leaving her alone felt, while not quite right, doable at least.
“I supposed there’s no way to change your mind,” she’d sighed, sounding resigned. You just shook your head. She turned her attention to Joel. “Are you marrying my granddaughter out of some archaic notion that you should because you got her pregnant? Because if you’re only going to leave her in five years, I’d rather you cut to the chase.”
“No ma’am,” he said before looking at you. “I’m marrying her because I love her more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone. Love someone like that, you marry them. If they’ll have you.”
You flew down over Thanksgiving break to tell Sarah and Tommy the news together in person. Tommy just pulled Joel into a tight hug and clapped him on the back when he came into the kitchen to get a drink as you basted the turkey, your bump a lot more noticeable than it had been when you were in town a month before.
“Could’ve fuckin’ told me, man,” Tommy clapped Joel on the back. “Good for you. Finally lockin’ that down?”
“That’s the idea,” Joel smiled.
“About fuckin’ time,” Tommy said.
Sarah, on the other hand, got a bit of a softer introduction to the idea. You wore a bulky sweatshirt on the plane and sat down with her in the living room as soon as you were home from the airport. Joel’s hand was laced in yours, Sarah sitting on the couch while you both stood in front of her.
“Why do I feel like I’m in trouble?” She frowned. “Because I swear I didn’t do it.”
“Not in trouble,” Joel laughed a little. “We have some news. You know we got back together…”
“Yeah,” her frown deepened.
“Well, we decided to get married, too,” he said.
“What!” She shrieked, leaping off the couch and launching herself at you. You caught her with a laugh, Joel grabbing you to help you stay upright. “Ugh FINALLY!”
“OK well let’s be a little more careful,” Joel said, Sarah’s arms still around your neck. “Because she’s pregnant, too…”
“What!” She let you go and looked between the two of you. “I mean ew, don’t want to think about WHY but oh my GOD! You’re having a baby?”
“Yup,” you nodded. “It’s your last Christmas as an only child, kiddo, enjoy it while you can.”
You moved down at the end of the semester, Joel flying up so you wouldn’t be driving or doing any heavy lifting. You settled in quickly, life so much like what it had been before you moved back to New York. You signed up to work as a substitute teacher at the local school district - Sarah even giving you her blessing to teach at the high school where she went - and studied for the MCATs. Life felt so natural, you hadn’t really thought further about the wedding.
“Did you want to do something big?” Joel asked one evening in late December, your feet in his lap as he rubbed them, an MCAT study book on your lap.
“For what?” You frowned.
“The wedding,” he said. “Should do it soon, make sure you’ve got health insurance…”
“Oh,” you frowned. “That’s true. I hadn’t really thought about what to do for it, I don’t really know that many people…”
“Me either,” Joel smiled a little.
“Want to just go to the courthouse?” You shrugged. He frowned.
“You sure you don’t want something better than that?” He asked.
“Well, if I leave your wife,” you shrugged again. “I don’t think there is anything better than that.”
You took the MCAT on the 10th and applied for your marriage license on the 12th. Nan said she didn’t want to be there for it, regardless of the date. That stung. But, with time, you hoped she’d come around.
The vows were simple but you weren’t sure you’d ever heard anything better than Joel promising to love and cherish you for the rest of his life. You had to remind yourself that your new brother-in-law and step-daughter were there when you kissed him. You would have been happy to kiss him for hours.
For a celebration, the six of you went to lunch downtown, Joel getting a bottle of real champagne for the table. You and Sarah split a glass during the toasts.
“Couldn’t imagine a better woman to welcome into the family,” Tommy smiled. “You’re already the best Miller I know. Besides Sarah.”
Everyone laughed and your husband kissed your cheek.
“And you’re sure you want to take my name?” Joel asked as he drove to Galveston for your first weekend as a married couple. “Your degrees have your name on them…”
“I’ve never had anyone that loved me enough that they wanted me to have their name,” you smiled, watching him drive. “I want to have your name, Sarah’s name. Our baby’s name. The degrees can deal.”
You checked into the hotel room, a view of the gulf from the balcony and chocolate covered strawberries waiting for you when you got there. You squealed, grabbed one and stepped outside to watch the waves. Joel came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you a few minutes later, his hands on your stomach.
“Found the only downside to not having a big wedding,” you leaned back into him.
“Hm?”
“We’re going to have to try really hard to make sure the next thing we dance to isn’t something stupid,” you smiled. “Otherwise our first dance is going to be a let down.”
“Well,” he kissed your temple. “I might have thought of that.”
You frowned, looking back at him.
He tugged you back into the room. The boombox from Sarah’s room was set in front of the TV, Joel stretching over to press play. You heard the opening notes and laughed.
“Joel!” You put your arms around his neck. “Really? Wonderful Tonight?”
“If you hate the song choice I did bring other options,” he said, pulling you against him but not moving yet.
“Just dance with me, Mr. Miller,” you smiled.
“Anything you want, Mrs. Miller.”
Tuesday, April 6, 2004
“Baby, you are in active labor,” Joel ground his teeth. “The applications can wait.”
“My contractions aren’t close enough together to be that big of a…” You stopped talking for a second, clenching your teeth as a contraction hit you. You waited for it to pass, gripping the bed. You spoke again when it did. “Problem. And I’ll never get these done with a newborn at home.”
The doctor came in, snapping on her gloves.
“Alright Mrs. Miller,” she said. “Let’s see how we’re coming along…”
“Dr. Baxter,” you said as she lifted the blankets and your gown. “Can you please tell my husband that the sooner med school applications are in, the better?”
“You’re at eight centimeters,” Dr. Baxter said. “Almost there! And Mr. Miller, I’m afraid your wife is right, early applications are pretty important.”
“Thank you,” you smiled.
“Doesn’t mean I think you should be filling them out right this second, Mrs. Miller,” she raised her brows at you. “I think I need to side with your husband on this one.”
“But I’m almost done!” You protested. “I just got my MCAT scores back yesterday, I couldn’t finish any sooner…”
“Finish that one,” she said. “Then I’m confiscating them. Orders from one current doctor to a future one.”
“Fine,” you muttered, going back to the form. “But I still think you’re overreacting.”
Joel held you as you pushed, doing everything the classes had told him to do. The man had practically been a star student, paying close attention to everything the lamaze teacher had said.
“Didn’t know what the fuck I was doing last time,” he said after your first class. “Making sure I get it right this time.”
You weren’t sure you’d ever been as exhausted as you were on the last push but you knew you’d never been as happy to hear anything as you were to hear the sharp, cracking cry of your daughter as she came into the world.
“Congratulations Mom and Dad, it’s a girl,” Dr. Baxter dropped her tiny, wriggling body into your arms, the cord still attached. You stared down at her in wonder, her little eyes scrunched closed, her small mouth open in a wail.
“Hi beautiful,” you breathed, looking at her. You’d never seen anything quite so perfect. She already had thick, dark hair and Joel’s nose. “Welcome to the world, Evelyn.”
Joel reached around you to cup her tiny head in his large hand.
“So proud of you, Baby,” Joel kissed your wet cheek. “You did so good.”
“Thank you for her,” you whispered, unable to take your eyes off of her. “Thank you.”
Wednesday, April 6, 2005
“Hey Mom,” Sarah called in a bit of a singsong voice. “Something came in the mail for you!”
“For me?” You called back before blowing a raspberry on Evie’s tummy. She giggled. “Can you bring it over? I’m in your sister’s room…”
You weren’t really sure if Sarah had made a conscious choice to start calling you Mom or if it was something she just fell into but you hadn’t fought it. The first time it happened was about six months after Evie was born.
It had been a particularly hectic morning in the Miller house. Evie was teething, Joel couldn’t find the phone he needed for work, Sarah had overslept and had misplaced her homework, you felt like you were inches away from crying from stress, it was not a great combination.
“Mom, you’re sure it didn’t get moved off the kitchen table last night?” Sarah poked her head into Evie’s room where you were getting her dressed for the day. You just looked at her for a second, a bit dumbstruck. “Mom. Homework? Purple folder?”
It still took you a moment to respond.
“Last place I saw it was the kitchen table after dinner,” you said. “If it got moved, it was either by your father or the ghost that haunts this house and all its inhabitants.”
“Stupid ghost,” she sighed, calling after Joel as she went down the hall.
When Joel went to kiss you goodbye, you grabbed his arm, Evie propped on your hip.
“Sarah called me Mom,” you said, eyes wide.
“Oh,” Joel blinked for a second. “Is that… is that OK? If it’s not…”
You stretched up to kiss him before he could keep talking. He kissed you back, deeply, and you had to fight the urge to put the baby in the crib and start ripping his clothes off. He pulled back from you eventually.
“You’re not helpin’ me be OK with leavin’ the house with that, baby,” he smiled. “But are you OK? With her callin’ you that?”
“Of course I am! I want her to do nothing BUT call me mom for the rest of my damn life now!”
“Think we can work with that,” he kissed your forehead. “Love you, take care of all my girls. Including yourself. See you tonight.”
You beamed, your morning suddenly so much brighter.
You closed Evie’s onesie and pulled on her little jeans.
“You’re getting too big too fast, girl,” you muttered, scooping her up as Sarah came in, a thick envelope in hand.
“OK you, give me the birthday girl,” she said, setting the envelope on the changing table in front of you. “Because I think you have to open that like… immediately.”
The University of Texas logo was on the corner and your breath caught.
“It’s a big envelope,” Sarah said, bouncing her sister on her hip. Evie reached her fat fingers out for Sarah’s curls. “Pretty sure they only send big envelopes for good news.”
Your hands still shook as you opened the envelope. You’d been so distracted planning a birthday dinner for Evie that you hadn’t been thinking about the looming threat of med school acceptance or denials. Inside the envelope was a thick booklet and a piece of paper on top. It said your name and then the word “Congratulations!”
You shrieked and dropped the envelope, jumping up and down for a second before throwing your arms around your daughters, crying as you squeezed them tight. Evie gurgled and Sarah laughed.
“Knew you’d do it, Mom,” she said.
***
Joel was later leaving the job site than he wanted to be. Well, it was always later than he wanted it to be. He’d get there in the morning and want to leave, to turn around and go home to you and his daughters. But today, he had a plan. Leave by five. It was 5:20 before he made it to the truck.
“She’s not the type to bite your head off about it man,” Tommy said as Joel drove to the house. “Don’t think you need to be this stressed about it.”
“I know,” Joel said. “But she’s been busting her ass to plan this dinner, I don’t want to cause her any more stress…”
“Hate to break it to you but I think she’s stressed just by bein’ married to you,” Tommy elbowed him in the ribs. Joel rolled his eyes.
Thankfully, the job site wasn’t far and he was home before six. He opened the door to see Sarah sitting on the floor with Evie, his younger daughter using the older one’s hands to help balance as she stood, stomping her tiny feet.
“She’s getting so close, Dad!” Sarah beamed at him. “She’s going to be an athlete, I can tell.”
He just stood there for a moment, watching them, his heart hurting from just how fucking happy seeing them together made him.
“Oh, Mom’s in the kitchen,” she said. “You should go see her, she really wants to see you.”
“Might have been wrong on that,” Tommy smirked a little, going to the living room, his hands out to pick up his niece.
You were putting something in the oven when Joel came in, you bending over giving him the perfect peek down your shirt to your breasts.
“Hey Baby,” he said and you looked up, closing the oven and wiping your hands on your apron. Your hair was in curlers and you were still the most beautiful fucking thing he’d ever seen. “I’m so sorry we’re late, we got held up at the site…”
“Oh,” you waved him off. “I kinda figured you would, we’ve got a good 45 minutes before anyone should be getting here anyway, I’ve got it under control.”
You grabbed something off the counter and came over, pressing yourself against him, stretching up to kiss him.
“You know,” he said between kisses. “I was thinking, in honor of Evie’s birthday, we should seriously consider getting her another sibling.”
“Oh really,” you smiled against his lips.
“Oh yes,” he said, his hands going around to the back of you, cupping your ass and pulling your hips tightly to his own. “Watching you mother my girls might just be the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen, can’t help but want to see you do it again. Plus you were a fucking gorgeous pregnant woman…”
“Might want to hold that thought there, Daddy,” you took the envelope you’d picked up from the counter and put it between his lips and your own. He frowned and took it, pulling the papers out.
“Congratulations!” It said. It took him a moment to figure it out but when he did, he gasped and gathered you into his arms, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around and kissing every part of you he could reach.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Baby!” He said as you laughed against him. “I knew you could do it, I fucking knew you’d do it…”
He put you back down and you laughed for another moment before looking at him more seriously.
“We should still really look at whether or not I should actually go,” you said. “It’s expensive, it’s time consuming, it’s going to be years of insane work schedules and bad pay before I start making good money, especially since I think I might want to be a pediatric surgeon…”
“You’re going to be the most incredible surgeon,” he cut you off. “You’re going to be so amazing, you are so amazing. We’ll figure it out. It’ll be OK, we’ll figure it out. You’re going to be amazing.”
You smiled like he’d just given you a gift and he pulled you against him again, kissing the top of your head.
“C’mon,” he said. “If we hurry I think we can squeeze in a quickie and still have time to get dressed before anyone shows up….”
You giggled and he took your hand, leading you to the bedroom as Tommy played with Sarah and Evie on the floor.
“Da!” Evie reached for him. “Dada!”
You and Joel both froze, looking at each other for a second.
“Has she…” Tommy asked.
“Nope,” you said, staring at your daughter. “That was her first word. Oh come ON kid, I literally feed you with my body and it’s Dada? I know he’s the best but some consideration!”
Joel pulled you along with him to pick your daughter up tucking her small body between the two of yours and kissing her plump little cheek. He didn’t think he’d ever been as happy as he was in this moment, surrounded by love and his girls.
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Fast Lane | Chapter 2
[ Simon Riley x f!Reader ] | ao3 link
rating: explicit | word count: 3.7k | status: work in progress
themes/tags: damsel in distress, protective Simon, smut, car chase scene, simon lowkey stalking you.. for a mission ofc, gun violence, loose plot
———————————————————————
Simon had never said a word to you, but he was beginning to know you. Only through the small details, of course.
In other words: Simon “Ghost” Riley has kept a close eye on you for weeks now, waiting for the mission cue. Action ensues to rescue you, a thrilling car chase, and ends wrapped in hotel sheets.
(Ch.1)
-
Your fingers drummed against the side of your thigh, timid tension buzzing throughout your nerves.
Elevator doors parted to reveal high ceilings framed by walls of blue glass that overlooked the street. An oblong conference table dominated the floor space, leather chairs neatly tucked into the wooden surface; the room was nearly empty except for a few seated executives, broad men who could only be assumed as security, and a waitstaff who was rolling in a cart adorned with pastries and an espresso machine.
You must’ve looked like a wide-eyed doe in the headlights because your awe was interrupted by a smooth, older voice greeting you.
“Welcome,” one of the executives rose from his seat. “I hope you didn’t have much trouble finding our office.”
He was an older man, middle-aged with an animated smile compassed by trimmed facial hair and wrinkles. Like the other executives, he exuded an air of professionalism and prestige — graying slicked back hair, a firm posture, and a well-tailored suit. He made his way over to you, extending a palm to greet you.
You shook his calloused hands and matched his welcoming smile. He introduced himself and the others as he guided you towards the conference table, inviting you to sit.
“If our secretary, Tanya, didn’t already tell you, we were absolutely impressed by your resume.”
“Yes,” chimed one of the other executives, this time a slightly younger man whose expression was sharp and slim. “Our managers spoke highly about your interviews. Your work ethic and attitude is exactly what we need to incorporate into our culture.”
“Ah,” you were admittedly flustered, taken aback by the rush of flattery. “Thank you.”
You were normally talkative and expressive, but the atmosphere instinctively caused you to urge composure. Honestly, you didn’t believe you would get this far. With initial shock, you had been invited for a final round interview for a job you desperately needed.
“So,” the first executive paused to sip his coffee, “we invited you here today not only to meet the person behind the resume, but so you can get a feel for the office.”
He praddled on while an assistant offered you a freshly poured espresso and pastry, to which you nodded with quiet gratitude. Your eyes returned to the man speaking, but you couldn’t help to feel the two other men’s gazes lingering on you — a sensation that didn’t feel too great, instead somewhat grimy.
“With remote work being so popular nowadays, unfortunately a lot of our staff aren’t in today. Feel free, however, to take a look around. Marcus here,” he gestured to the man with sharper features, “can give you a tour while Tanya drafts up the rest of your offer and paperwork.”
“That sounds great, thank you.” You held a cordial smile across your lips, sipping the espresso; it was extremely bitter, and you had to conceal the urge to twist your face into a grimace. So odd — the man before effortlessly finished his. You weren’t in the habit of drinking straight espresso, perhaps it was an acquired taste.
You placed your cup back onto the stained mahogany table, managing to finish the remaining sip. Lifting your gaze to the two men seated across from you, their eyes no longer traced your figure and were instead droning into your eyes. Marcus was the first to cut into the short silence by commenting on the weather and continuing on with material, surface-level topics.
Conversation was light, briefly landing on details about the company’s benefits and employee retreats. An odd feeling pitted your stomach. Maybe it was your nervousness, being in a setting you weren’t quite used to — or the culmination of an extensive interview process.
The chatter fell to a natural hush before you spoke.
“Alright, Marcus, I’d love a tour if you’re ready.” You offered another polite smile to which he immediately replied.
“Ready when you are,” his smile was flat, perked at the corners of his mouth. He rose from his seat after you, meeting you at the entrance of the elevator.
The third executive, who had been mostly silent until now, headed towards one of the sleek doors on the conference floor. As the elevator whirred, he wished you farewell. You thanked him with a parting wave, but your smile faltered as a rush of nausea coursed through you. It was rapidly accompanied by light-headedness. Again, however, you internally dismissed it by chalking it up to anxiety or standing up too fast.
With a chime, the elevator doors opened. Marcus stepped in after you, completely ignoring your clearly unsettled demeanor.
“We’ll start with the marketing branch. Some of our managers..” his voice began to fade, now replaced by a loud ringing clouding your hearing. Your vision was framed by a darkness, and your head felt unbearably hot as your knees began to buckle beneath your weight. Panic rushed through every muscle, hastening your breathing as you fought to grasp your consciousness.
The last thing you remembered were the steel doors rolling shut and arms catching you as your vision was engulfed by black.
…
Humming vibrations and muffled voices lulled you awake.
Bleary and blinking, your eyes focused on the ceiling of a car interior. Light streaks washed over the gray felt, the woosh of traffic sounding more clear around you as you regained your bearings.
Stiff-limbed and still — you were laid in the backseat of some standard SUV. You immediately became mindful of everything — your breath, muscles, anything to refrain from drawing attention to yourself. Your hands and ankles weren’t bound, so you doubt they planned for you to rouse during the ride..wherever you were headed.
Two men, burly and toughened, were seated in the front; heads you haven’t seen before. A murky myriad of questions throbbed against your head, but you couldn’t entertain them. Fear gripped every shred of you, despair settling in at the impossibility of the situation. You wanted to scream, to bang on the windows in the hope some passenger car would call for help. But again — you couldn’t; you were frozen with dread.
Raised voices dripped with frustration, drawing you out of your frightened inner echochamber.
“Who the fuck is this guy tailing us?” came a growl from the passenger seat.
“Agh, we’ll lose him. Probably just some asshole,” replied the dismissive driver. There was a click of metal before the rich scent of tobacco permeated the air.
“Pass ‘em over.”
“Let me get a drag in first, you ass.” Despite the roughness in his tone, the passenger let loose a throaty laugh.
Silence again, except for motors whirring around you and the quiet inhales of cigarettes.
“Fuck, look at this asshole. He’s trying to pass us up.” You could hear the passenger vexingly shift in his seat, leering at the side mirror.
“Just let him, who cares.”
A mechanical whirr droned as the passenger window rolled down, the man starting to shout undoubtedly some creative curse before a softened pop sounded. Panic immediately ensued in the SUV as the car’s smooth speed now turned bulky and bumpy. Some car horns blared outside followed by the roaring of mufflers.
“Fuck, fuck! He shot our back tire —” there was ruffling from the passenger seat before a click, the man racking the magazine of his tactical pistol.
“We’ll push ahead,” said the driver, voice firm before he was interrupted by the buzz of a radio blotter.
“You guys OK in there?” questioned the radio.
“Yeah, yeah —” said the driver in a rushed tone. “Back tire blown out, we’re still good with the front.”
“Detailing the escort car right now. They saw the shot come from a black pick-up.”
“Black pick-up,” confirmed the passenger. “Asshole has a silenced pistol, too.”
“They’re three cars behind you, the escort — just push ahead.”
“What do we do about the psycho?” inquired the frustrated passenger.
“Escort will deal with it, so just push ahead. Pull over at exit 42 and use the ‘donut’ in the back.”
“Got it.”
The radio feed fizzled as the voice faded out.
Panic was boiling through the shock and numbing fear that had locked your limbs earlier. Adrenaline now coursed through your veins, riling up your thoughts as you combed through all the possible actions you could take to make it out of there — to make it to the black pick-up, the only chance you had.
More shuffling came from the passenger seat, his body beginning to turn in your direction. Instantaneously, you shut your eyes and focused entirely on regulating your breathing to a steady pace. It seemed to suffice, as the man turned back to the window in silence.
Once he began talking again, you peeked your gaze to the tinted windows. Perhaps once the car returns, you could start banging or lower the windows to garner the attention of the black pick-up. Apprehension twisted your lips at the sight of the passenger’s pistol resting near the center console of the car.
“There he is, coming up,” the passenger hastily blurted, readying his pistol and angling his head to get a proper view of the black pick-up in the side mirror.
A sudden bang, followed by pitched metallic scraping, rocked the car. An off-guard yelp slipped through your lips. The man in the passenger instinctively turned to face you, proving fatal as another soft pop went off — warm blood splattering onto your blouse. The passenger’s body slumped over.
Pure shock was trapped in your throat as you sat up, shaking any fixation on what had just happened. The driver’s movements were now rigid, struggling to turn the wheel; you could now view how the car was nearly pinned against the black pick-up and was edging closer to the divider.
“You’re fucking crazy!” shouted the driver, still wrestling with the wheel to prevent completely crashing. He was completely aware you were wide awake, sputtering towards the window while the car jolted, but he didn’t care.
As you approached and lowered the tinted window, the sparking and scraping metal became unbearably louder. Your panicked eyes looked over towards the black pick-up driver, only to have your gaze met with dark ones. They were ashened, the only striking feature that hadn’t been covered by a skull-donned balaclava.
You didn’t know these eyes, but they knew you. They had finally found you.
“Get in. Now,” barked the man, his order direct and urgent.
The backseat window of the pick-up lowered. For a brief second, in your hesitation, another car was approaching from behind visible from your peripheral view — a similar SUV as the one you were in.
With a deep and shaky breath, you climbed and hurled yourself into the backseat of the pick-up. Your knee and wrist throbbed with an immediate pain from your landing, but the adrenaline overrode any urge to wince.
Almost instantaneously, the black pick-up pulled away from the SUV and shifted lanes. More car horns blared, distant police sirens swirling and oscillating far behind all of the commotion.
You stuttered, mouth agape as you stared at the masked man. You had no option but to trust this man, and more questions began to batter against your mind.
“Who are —” you began, abruptly cut off by his deep tone.
“Get down and stay down.”
His voice was enough to silence any burning questions you had in the moment, as you promptly followed his words. You ducked low, laying against the leather upholster of the backseat. However, your stare never left the masked man; the only window into this mysterious savior were his eyes, which droned forward with a calm composure.
The car lurched as he moved over to another lane once again, and you clung onto the passenger seat to brace yourself.
Sirens had grown louder momentarily, until he turned down a winding exit between thrushes of trees. The silence had now become deafening, matching the volume of your pounding heart. After a few minutes, the car stilled to a stop in a gravel parking lot.
“C’mon.”
The car was still running as the masked man clicked the door open and exited. His stride was quick as he opened the backseat door and waited for you to stumble out.
“Where are we going?” you finally pushed the words out of your throat, fully processing them once they were spoken.
“Hop in, then I’ll tell you.” His gaze left your face to survey the surrounding roads, watchful as an occasional car passed the rundown gas station you were parked at. Urgency straightened his posture as he gestured to another pick-up, barely visible from behind the building.
“I —” you closed your mouth just as quickly as it had opened, not sure what to even respond with. You were still confoundedly bewildered, frankly quite overwhelmed and haven’t begun to process what exactly had occurred.
Gravel rustled underneath your footsteps, soon rounding the building and entering the new truck. It was white, a similar yet used model compared to the black one. Once you shuffled into the backseat, you looked over the contents placed behind the driver seat: a first aid box, a throw blanket, water bottles, and a small cardboard box with packaged food.
The man turned the ignition and the truck roared to life. He turned in his seat, arm extended against the passenger headrest to properly reverse the truck out. Quietly you sat, watching his focused eyes before they flickered briefly towards yours.
“You okay?” his voice, originally harsh and low, was a softer tone now. You breathed for a few moments, perhaps to gather your thoughts or the fatigue was finally settling in, while he turned and merged onto the main road.
You perused your body, which seemed fine, despite some bruising and the haziness still lingering in your eyes. The soreness of your limbs began to fade, and you sunk into the backseat after reaching for water.
“Yeah, I think so.”
His eyes darted towards you in the rearview momentarily, watching as you drank the water. The car slowed to a pause at a red light, and he took more than a moment to study you while you stared out the window.
Small spots of blood were speckled across your blouse and exhaustion paled your face. You were now leaning against the window with your curled finger resting against your bottom lip.He had seen this face so many times wandering into the cafe or buried in a book. Peace was now replaced by a subtle distress, one lost in troubled thought. Those delicate hands were trembling, and your brows were furrowed.
The light flashed green, and he pulled his focus back onto the road.
“You can ask your questions now,” he cleared his throat. “Got a long drive ahead of us.”
His words seemed to pull your attention away from the passing outside view, somewhat successful in providing the ease he had aimed for. You shifted to lean comfortably into the seat, mulling over in your mind and twisting your lips. Chaos had fizzled into silence, and you needed help making sense of it all.
“Okay, first off —” you breathed, as if you had to brace yourself. “Who are you? Where are we going?”
“You can call me Ghost.”
“Ghost? You don’t have a real name?”
“It’s on a need-to-know basis,” he replied before tossing you one of his task force badges. “We’re headin’ to a safehouse. You’ll get a medical check-up and be interviewed.”
“Okay,” you let the words swirl in your brain, lips pursed as his answers temporarily sufficed.
You held his laminated badge between your fingers — it was an official government issued card, which provided some relief. And you could almost laugh, if it wasn’t for the weighing exhaustion,
that even in his photo ID this man still had a mask on.
“So, what exactly happened? I..” your voice trailed off, your thoughts sitting heavy on your tongue. You tried to recollect your thoughts in an attempt to piece it together yourself, but grew quietly overwhelmed.
Ghost glanced at the rearview mirror, watching your brows furrow and your soft face muddle with puzzlement. He waited for you to continue, but spoke when it was evident you were finished speaking.
“The agents will probably brief you, but you were being targeted. Not sure what for.”
He knew the details, but chose to be vague; to be honest, he wanted to spare you from the reality and didn’t want his words to be the cause of such anguish. However, Ghost’s words only spurred the confusion twisting your face.
He attempted to quell the trouble visible on your face, “You’re safe now.”
You smiled softly, finding some resolve in his response. Tucking your disheveled hair behind your ear, a strand slipped from your ear to frame the curve of your cheek.
Ghost noticed your smile when he glanced back at the mirror and felt a tug at his mouth to do the same. When you fell silent, he offered to turn on the radio — something that he didn’t really do himself, but again to offer some ounce of comfort that he could. You responded that you would enjoy that, but at a low volume.. something to occupy your mind for the remainder of the car ride.
And so the radio played softly for the entire ride. He’d notice when a song familiar to you would play, how you’d tap your fingers against your thigh. An hour in, Ghost would find you in the rearview fighting the urge to succumb to exhaustion since all the adrenaline had burned through you.
Eventually, your eyes fluttered shut.
During a stop to refuel the truck, he shook out the throw blanket in the back and delicately placed it over you. There was that default softly lonesome face of yours, at rest and fast asleep. His jaw clenched at some point — a quiet anger tensing inside him at the plans those despicable men had in store for you. Oh, the grief that riddled through him when he imagined your gentle face wrought with fear and tears.
For the rest of the ride, he was diligent to drive carefully and avoid any bumps in the road while you slept away.
#sorry to my new mutuals#i am 80% aesthetic and 20% fandom#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#ghost cod#cod ghost#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod x reader#mw2#ghost mw2
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Marinette Jor-El Wayne Ch 1
just cross posting a fic - https://archiveofourown.org/works/24869410/chapters/60167491
There are over 3000 known comets in our solar system, and scientists believe there to up to a billion total, but this comet was not one of them. How did Batman know this?
First of all because he is Batman, paranoia comes with the cowl.
Second because he has been watching the incoming meteorites approach for the better part of a week. At first it was simply just for the interest of Dick, his young ward, after the bat computer first alerted them to the incoming shower. Then Dick used the bat computer hack a satellite for pictures.
Bruce wasn’t entirely sure whether this behaviour deserved punishment or not. Dick managed to get away unscathed as Bruce notice that one of the poorly imaged comments had no tail. Red flags were raised by that.
Piece of rock hurdling through space were supposed to break down and leave an iconic tail behind. This had started the relatively short-lived crusade of comet chasing. It had peaked the Bat’s interest even further when the tailless meteorite would be flying over Gotham, the concern being that the meteor could actually cause his city damage. Another sleepless night showed that no, none of the comets would not crush in the city nor land just within their city limits, read territory, enough to warrant investigation of anything that could potential survive the harshness of impact with the earth’s surface.
That was precisely how Batman found himself looking through binoculars for shooting stars dancing across the sky with his sidekick Robin hopping excitedly from foot to foot beside him. In broad daylight. Yeah Batman didn’t do daylight, but the aforementioned paranoia didn’t do sleep either apparently.
Alfred was back at the cave assuring the young boy.
‘Yes, it is exciting Master Dick’, ‘No I don’t believe they be quite like fireworks Master Dick’ and the reoccurring ‘It is a meteor not a space craft Master Dick, there will not be any aliens Master Dick’.
Bruce had honestly tunned it out some time ago standing vigilante atop the edge of his city.
Dick was in the middle of another comment about not being able to prove alien didn’t exist when it started. Crimson and amber streak burning across the already bright sky.
A quick glanced showed Bruce that Dick stood amazed at the sight, wholly captivated by the bright flashes. Soon too was the stoic Batman ensnared by the splendour.
So ensnared that he almost missed the one tailless meteor swerve. Keyword almost. The Batman snapped out of his stupor immediately, falling to the batmobile park on the streets below. Waiting only until Robin drops into the seat beside him to case after the prized object.
Of course, the comet had the advantage of speed as even the batmobile could not reach the awesome speed of 60km/s. They also had the disadvantage of having no idea where the comet was headed, past the cardinal point.
The drive to the crash site was silent both vigilantes silently puzzling out the situation.
Bruce was trying to figure out what had caused the meteorite to change course and land several kilometres within the city limits.
Dick was trying to figure out how to speak with the potential alien who would probably not know Romani any better than English.
The crash site itself held more questions then answers. They had lost sight of the comet some time ago, but Alfred had traced its impact point to an old non-developed farming area just on the edge of Gotham.
They arrived to see a still mostly intact field. The only proof of the abnormal was a streak thought the grass, of a fire burned out, leading to a charred object in the centre of the field.
Leaving the bat car unattended for the second time that night, the vigilantes did the much-warned action of walking towards the strange object recently fallen from the sky.
Certain details became clearer on their approach;
Firstly, the object, they were pretty sure it wasn’t a normal comet at this point, had ‘survived’ the crash, though it seemed as the thing had nearly been torn in two.
Secondly, the whole thing seemed smooth, very much unlike the uneven chunk of rock they were expecting.
Third, it was metal, maybe, Batman wasn’t sure, a rare occurrence for the man.
“Cool, spaceship”, spoke Dick breaking the silence as he marvelled at the object, keeping distance only because the heat radiating to his face was already making him sweat at the distance he was at already.
Fourth, the object quite literally had no better description, it was all too alien.
A whimper brought the two males from their outlandish thoughts, thoughts becoming all far too plausible.
A gloved hand reached out attentively to touch to pod. The Bat recoiled at the heat and Dick at his soft hiss of pain.
Whatever mechanics had survived the crash whirred into motion.
Batman being the taller of the two, Dick only turned 13 a few months ago, leaned over the . . . capsule as he identified it to be. Nothing could have possible prepared him for what he saw.
A child, perhaps 2, lay bundled in a deep red blanket. Her dark hair surprisingly tame from her journey. Her eyes remained closed as she whimpered again, curling further in on herself in the process.
Bruce’s heart broke for the girl in that moment. A curious Dick had peaked from up on his toes.
“Can we keep her!?”
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Good Luck, Babe! | CH 1-1 | Ice Cream for Breakfast
{Trigger Warning/Themes Masterlist}
This is split into a billion parts because it's long as hell!
Read on Ao3 to avoid the headache!
It isn’t unusual to be up before everyone else in the house.
To say that the people in your adoptive family were night owls is a total understatement. Most mornings, Wayne Manor was full of the haunting sort of quiet you would expect in any normal residence during dead of night.
Only a handful of years ago, you couldn’t stand the eerie halls of the East wing before ten am. The tall windows leaking pale light onto the antique dark wood, the ornate, unblinking portraits that loomed over you with eyes that seemed to follow. Total daylight horror vibes.
You still felt like that sometimes. Especially as you grew older, and nearly everyone else moved out.
Dick was out in California with his West coast lollipop brigade before he settled in Blüdhaven.
Jason, you had barely gotten to know before he died, and upon his resurrection (and subsequent rehabilitation), he moved out and never looked back.
Tim was…Tim. Overworked, overtired. He’d moved out before he was even legally an adult- but he basically a CEO at that point anyway. It only made sense that he carve out a little something for himself in the world, especially when Damian came along and assumed the Robin mantle.
And then there was Damian- the only current permanent resident aside from yourself, Bruce and Alfred. You wouldn’t say that you were friends exactly, but you had certainly developed an understanding in the quiet moments you ended up spending together.
So yeah, most of your older brothers were onto greener pastures. As much as it sucked to see such a large house so empty, you knew better than to whine about it. It had been a long time since your brief stint as Robin when you were about eight years old, but even then you could register that the vibe in the bat cave was…tense, to say the very least. You had felt it in the manor, too- the anger and sadness swirling around your family of vigilantes.
And Bruce, your godfather, Batman- at the very center of it all.
There was a saying in the city- that if you ever saw Batman, trouble wasn’t far behind. He was Gotham’s own Mothman, bringing omens of collapsing bridges, bizarre hostage situations and stuck up banks. Still, chasing Batman made for cool stories and dynamic photos, with only a minor threat of personal harm on a good day.
Despite the good sense of the Batman Rule, Gotham city residents leaked into the streets for a peak of the curling cape and badass rocket car.
If you saw the bat family, however, you were well and truly fucked.
These days, your family only really got together on cataclysmic occasions, the stuff one step down from the bone chilling, universe ending Justice League shit.
Well, that. And your birthday.
It was why you seized every opportunity to take advantage of the situation, seated in the large dining hall with a plan in place.
Pressing the tips of your fingers together in a super-villain worthy steeple, you rest your elbows on the ancient oak of the dining table. You were at the far end- the very head, in a chair that was usually reserved for Bruce.
“You wouldn’t want to set a bad example by reneging on your promise to me, now would you?”
A mischievous smirk curled on your lips as you released your hands from their position, to point to the paper birthday crown you’d fashioned for yourself in the early morning.
“For my first decree,” you started, offering a dramatic wave. You gestured to the table, littered with spoons, bowls, and most notable- several pint sized containers of ice cream. Smaller silver dishes housed sprinkles, cherries, crushed candies and other fixings.
“Ice cream for breakfast.”
Part 2
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐈 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 !
⇢ oikawa toru x f! reader x iwaizumi Hajime
⇢ soundtrack. this love by taylor swift
⇢ tags. summer romance, childhood friends to lovers.
⇢ taglist. open - send an ask
synopsis. some summers are just prettier than others. summers were spent chasing behind your older brother and his friends, begging to be included in their “big boys only” activities. but the summer before your senior year of high school, you were gone to your grandparents’ before makki, oikawa, iwaizumi, and matsukawa could return from college. now that you’re finally back, what will you do when the boys you’ve chased after your entire childhood suddenly looks at you like you’re not just their best friend’s little sister?
a/n. it’s here, it’s finally here! heavily inspired by the series, “the summer it turned pretty” by jenny han. this was one of my favorites growing up and in honor of it finally being adapted into a television series, here is my own take with my favorites from haikyuu.
ʚɞ PROLOGUE
CH.1 - ALL GROWN UP
preview. one year away from you and you’ve grown up so much that Oikawa Toru and Iwaizumi Hajime is having a hard time taking their eyes off of you. “you’re makki’s little sister. you’re only makki’s little sister” they repeat in their head. now if only their hearts would believe it too.
CH. 2 - MY HANDSOME PRINCE (oikawa’s POV)
preview. growing up, you called oikawa your prince and you made him promise to marry you one day. it was a joke. but now that you seemed to have your mind on someone else, oikawa suddenly wanted to make good on that promise.
CH.3 - SIT ON MY LAP (iwaizumi’s POV)
preview. on the rare days you were actually allowed to tag along on their activities, iwaizumi hajime’s lap was your special seat. and now in an overcrowded car, he automatically pulled you down to himself. only when he caught whiff of your unfamiliar perfume, spotted the glossy lips, and felt the grown weight of you did he realize everything has changed and that makki’s adorable little sister were...well, not so little anymore.
CH.4 - THE MIYAGI SUMMER
preview. now that you’re finally 18, your brother reluctantly agreed to let you tag along to the annual Miyagi bonfire. you meet an old acquaintance from elementary school who has not only gotten taller but cuter as well. if only your brother’s friends would stop being so overprotective, you might just get a shot at the summer romance you’ve always wanted.
CH.5 - TBA
#—edited&approved#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#oikawa x reader#iwaizumi x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu fic#haikyuu!!#Oikawa toru#iwaizumi hajime
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hi
I have no idea what I require but I want you to provide ahahah
dealers choice of fics?
Hey Lovely!!
OOOOOHHH!!! This is FANTASTIC because I have 5 lists that are ready-to-post but I don't have asks for, so letting me pick which list I want to post is a rare treat that I would love more of!! <3 Thank you so much!
Hmmm... Newcomer fics, John POV or Sherlock POV fics? Hmmm.
Since there's been an uptick requests for H/C with John fics, let's do that one :)
JOHN 3rd PERSON POV Pt. 2: HURT/COMFORT & WHUMP
See also:
POV John First/Second Person Pt. 1
POV John 3rd Person Pt 1: Fluff, Humour & PWP
POV Sherlock 1st & 2nd Person
POV Sherlock 3rd Person Pt. 1: Fluff
POV Sherlock 3rd Person Pt 2: Hurt/Comfort & Whump
Promises Kept by grannysknitting (K+, 844 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TGG, John POV, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship / Pre-Slash, Sherlock’s Violin, Worried Sherlock, John Whump) – When they were in hospital, Sherlock made a promise to himself. Now he's keeping it. Set after 'Polygamous Marriage' but before 'Back in the Saddle'
You Lead, I Lead, You Follow, I Follow by BrighteyedJill (M, 862 w., 1 Ch. || Fever, Hurt/Comfort, John Whump, Sherlock’s Violin) – John wakes up after a chase gone wrong to find Sherlock watching over him, but he’s a little hazy on the details.
Concussions And Good Old Fashioned Awkwardness by Belldere (K+, 894 w. || Humour, Hospitals, Mild John Whump, Misunderstandings, Platonic Relationship, Concussions, Not-Gay John, Possessive Sherlock) – When John lands himself in hospital... again, all he wants is to just get out of there as soon as possible, too bad his doctor has other ideas about where John may be getting his injuries. Good thing concussions make everything strangely funnier.
The Four Incidents by TheGirlWithRedHair22 (K+, 1,064 w., 1 Ch. || S1 Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, John Whump, Accident, John POV, Hand Holding, Worried Sherlock, Sherlock’s Self Esteem) – The first time John was present when someone insulted Sherlock, he brushed it off as a strange coincidence.
Black Cars by johnsarmylady (T, 1,186 w., 5 Ch. || Post-TRF, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, 221B Ficlet) – John is getting on with his life...if only he didn't see black cars everywhere! A short Post Reichenbach tale in 221B style in 5 parts.
Sleep Tonight by Jenn1984 (T, 1,220 w, 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Bed Sharing, Worried Sherlock, Sick John, Hugs/Cuddles, Touch Neediness) – Fingers begin prying open his jacket looking for a wound and John would really like to swat at them. No, he's not hit anywhere, he's just damn sick.- John Watson has a fever.
Hallucinations can't open doors by Bespectacled dreamer (K+, 1,330 w., 1 Ch. || Reunion, Hurt / Comfort, Friendship, Hallucinations, John’s Wedding, Light Humour) – In which John gets married and Sherlock gets a broken nose.
I Was Wrong by AllesandraQuartermaine (K, 1,496 w., 1 Ch. || TGG AU, Friendship, Hospitalization / Injury, John’s Self Esteem, Sleepy Sherlock) – Sherlock and John have a conversation a few days after the pool face off with Moriarty. And John hears something quite surprising.
They're Taking My Wisdom by whitchry9 (K+, 1,939 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Drugging, Dentists, Friendship, Anxious Sherlock, Humour) – Sherlock goes to the dentist. Of course, being Sherlock, things have to be complicated. Oh and drugs. They're always fun.
A Room of One's Own by whitchry9(K+, 2,174 w., 5 Ch. || S2 Timeline, Hurt/Comfort, Supernatural, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Coma, John Whump, Worried Sherlock, POV John, Angst, Friendship/Bromance, Hospital) – When a severe head injury lands John in a coma, somehow he ends up in Sherlock's mind palace. It's actually pretty nice there, and John is entertaining the notion of staying there, rather than returning to his broken body. But Sherlock isn't taking it as well, and John can feel him breaking around him.
The Many Faces of Concern by sdrawkcabemdaer5 (K+, 2,473 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Angsty Fluff, John Whump, Mildly Clueless / Guilty Sherlock) – John is injured on a case, leading to some surprising reactions and discoveries about their friendship.
Those Days by StillWaters1 (T, 2,663 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD / Sensory Attacks, Caring Sherlock) – If Sherlock had danger nights, then these were John's danger days.
Not My Proudest Moment by charlock221 (K, 2,695 w., 1 Ch. || Lunar New Year, Mild PTSD / Panic Attack, Coping Mechanisms, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort) – John tries his best not to get in the way of Sherlock's cases, but when the vivid noises of fireworks unnerve his senses and begin to bring back unwanted memories of Afghanistan, he cannot help but to hope Sherlock will notice and help him before things go too far.
As You Wish by PipMer (K, 3,311 w., 1 Ch. || Bromance/Pre-Slash/Epic Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, John Whump, Hospitals) – When John woke from his coma, he wasn't at all surprised to see the wrong Holmes brother sitting at his bedside. Disappointed, but not surprised.
The Dangers of Dating by verityburns (T, 3,325 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Case Fic, No Slash, John Whump, 3G, Worried Sherlock) – Sherlock and John acquire a new client... with a very unusual problem.
The Sound of Silence by Dubbers (T, 3,593 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF Hiatus, Reunion) – After Sherlock's fall, John loses the ability to talk. Three years later, Sherlock is back.
Water Is Another Matter by cathedral_carver (T, 3,903 w., 1 Ch. || Sick Fic, Pining, First Kiss, Heat Wave) – He thinks it’s in trouble, his poor heart.
Bitter Nights Turned Sweet by Hyliare (T, 4,076 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Insomnia/Hallucinations, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, POV Present Tense John Watson, Cuddling/Snuggling) – Sherlock has always had trouble sleeping; he hasn't always had someone in his life willing to help.
Trapped and Upside Down on the M6 by BootsnBlossoms (E, 4,256 w., 1 Ch. || Whump, Car Accident, Hurt / Comfort) – Everything felt wrong. His hair was going the wrong way. His arms were bent in ways he wouldn’t choose to bend them. His neck hurt and he couldn’t really feel his toes. Something was dripping on his face – and rolling up. A car crash. He had been in a car crash.
Between Asleep and Awake by katydidit (K, 4,309 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Sick Fic, Post-TRF / Reunion) – John is sick. Incredibly, extremely, dangerously sick. Plagued by a high fever, he begins to hallucinate, start seeing things that aren't really there. Because they can't be there. Can they?
Carry On by Mazarin221b (M, 4,647 w., 1 Ch. || 5 and Ones, Hurt/Comfort, Afghanistan, Frottage, Hand Jobs, First Time) – Five times John didn't want to be carried, and one time he did.
Welcome Home, John by slashscribe (G, 5,504 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Awkwardness, Stabbed Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Panic Attack (Sherlock), Self Esteem Issues, Love Confessions, First Kiss) – When John moves back to 221B, he thinks he’s the broken one, but after a while, it becomes clear that he might not be correct.
Nothing Quite So Spectacular by Kerkerian-Horizon (K+, 5,762 w. || Drama, Hurt / Comfort, Post-TRF) – How John Watson grieves after Sherlock Holmes' alleged suicide, and what happens when the detective returns home. Set post-Reichenbach, two parts.
EMERGENCY CONTACT: John Watson, RELATIONSHIP: Saint by blueink3 (M, 6,229 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt Sherlock, 5+1, Hurt/Comfort) – The first time Sherlock Holmes realizes he needs an emergency contact is the first time he mentally appoints John Watson with the job. John, of course, does not know this and neither does the local hospital. Part 2 of The Emergency Contact Series
Victim, Bait, Hero, Friend by KimberlyTheOwl (T, 7,887 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TGG Epilogue, Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Past Kidnapping / Torture / Implied Rape, Panic Attacks, Worried / Possessive Sherlock, Lestrade is a Good Friend) – Some insights into why John was perfectly willing to throw everything away for a chance to kill Moriarty at the pool. Trauma, ugliness, and finally healing. Some nice supporting work by Lestrade as well.
Beyond the Vow by tunteeton (M, 8,994 w., 1 Ch. || Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending, Post-S3, Explosions, Mary is Good-ish?, 3G, Infant Death) – Being a sociopath was never this emotionally exhausting.
The River Variations by withoutawish (T, 11,619 w., 1 Ch. || Soulmates, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Three Garridebs, Romance, Light Case Fic, Near Death Experience, Angst and Fluff, Dark Humour) – John Watson never knew that he wanted a ‘no toast in the mornings’ normal until he realized what an honor it is to be destroyed by Sherlock Holmes.
Where the Sun Never Shines by teahigh (T, 11,634 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, PTSD, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sex) – John is a mess. Sherlock can't fix him, but he tries. That's good enough, John thinks.
I See You Through by belovedmuerto (T, 12,078 w., 8 Ch. || Psychic AU || Empath John, Alternate TGG, Whump, Nightmares, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn, Pre-Slash) – John has never asked Sherlock about his past, his childhood, the reason he quails in lonely misery almost every time he sees his brother. He’s never needed to. Part 2 of An Experiment in Empathy
A Brand of Gold by aquabelacqua (M, 12,757 w., 1 Ch. || Mutual Pining, POV John, Phone Sex, Texting, Masturbation, Long Distance, Drunk Texting) – What am I doing? he wondered. The answer came back at once: Flirting. He let the vital, missing piece snap into place as surely and as cleanly as if it had always been there. He was flirting with Sherlock Holmes.
Understanding by rizandace (T, 13,268 w., 15 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Worried Sherlock, John Whump Then Sherlock Whump) – Sherlock's hiding something about his newest case, and John wants answers. Set post-TGG. Friendship fic, mostly, with brief entrances from Harry and Lestrade just for fun.
The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John's preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.
I Will Take Care Of You by SailorChibi (T, 16,664 w., 15 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Sick Sherlock, BAMF John, BAMF Lestrade, Reunion Fic) – Two years after Sherlock's death, John comes to find him on the sofa. Wounded and ill, Sherlock is convinced he's hallucinating and refuses to share any details about Moran or the fact that Mycroft has been compromised. That doesn't stop John from stepping up and taking care of the last of Moriarty's web, BAMF-style.
Best of Three by SilentAuror (E, 17,473 w., 1 Ch. || POV John, John is Shot, Porn with Feels, Post HLV, Rimming, Denial, Anal) – “You want to have sex with me,” Sherlock announces one evening about a year after John's divorce. John's vigorous denial sparks a three-day wager wherein Sherlock is determined to prove his point, and John is determined to hold onto his heterosexuality. Set well after HLV. (Canon-compliant). PORN. With feels.
John Watson doesn't have a Boyfriend by naughtyspirit (E, 18,932 w., 7 Ch. || UST / URT, Fluff & Smut, Voyeurism, Masturbation) – John's date has gone very well. Sherlock requires tea. John wishes he hadn't resolved that their relationship was strictly hands off and isn't about to address it.Unless he has to. Smut, fluff and shower time for a naked John Watson.
Rupert Street by WritingOutLoud (M, 27,262 w., 9 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting || Case Fic, Sexuality, Demisexual Sherlock, Drugging, Smart John, Sherlock Has Internalized Biphobia, Fluff, Angst with Happy Ending, Gay Bar, Flirting, John Manipulates Sherlock to Eat, John Deduces, Arguments, Kidnapping/Torture, Hospitalization, John Whump) – Discharged from the war with nothing but the clothes on his back and a realisation of his bisexuality, John Watson has to learn who he’s become. He can’t afford London on an army pension, but the city is the only friend he has. In an effort to understand his newfound queer identity, he heads to a bar one night, where he stumbles across a mysterious stranger who turns his life upside down. ‘I dug around inside myself, and I'm not quite sure what I found, but it was beautiful and terrifying all at the same time.’
Vena Cava by SilentAuror (E, 27,452 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fix-It, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Infidelity) – Sherlock has been shot in the chest; John has been shot in the heart. Though everything is broken, they do their best to heal the wounds that Mary left on them both.
Silhouettes by allonsys_girl (E, 28,585 w., 7 Ch. || Canon Compliant, POV John, Heavy Drinking, Sad/Depressed John, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunion, Foot Jobs, Blow Jobs, Infidelity, Cheating, Drug Use/Abuse, Anal, Switchlock, Rimming, Parentlock) – Sherlock and John find comfort in each other's arms, but as ever with these two, it's not your typical relationship. It's fluffy at the beginning, gets deeply angsty in the middle, gets porny at the end.
Darkling, I Listen by You_Light_The_Sky (T, 73,254 w., 8 Ch. || Fairy Tale AU || Loosely Based on Beauty and the Beast, Magical Realism, Suicidal Themes, Romance, Creepiness, Adventure) – No one who enters old London ever comes out. They say that the beast devours them. When his sister disappears, John ventures into the dead zone beyond the wall, and finds a brilliant madman under a terrible curse... Part 1 of Darkling I Listen + Extras, Deleted Scenes
Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love, Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.
Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w., 18 Ch. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?
Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater / Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?
A Fold in the Universe by darkest_bird (E, 152,869 w., 26 Ch. || Omegaverse / Prime Universe Crossover || OmegaJohn / AlphaSherlock, First Kiss / Time, Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Dubious Consent, Humour) – Alpha Sherlock and Omega John are in a relationship. Prime Sherlock and Prime John are not. So what happens when a freak fold in the universe switches one John for the other?
Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.
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A Boy and His Doll (Ch. 1)
Title: A Boy and His Doll
Fandom: Barbie (2023)
Pairings: Ken/Original Character (M/M)
Ratings: General
Chapter: 1/?
Summary:
An underpaid middle school librarian gets the surprise of his life when his childhood doll waltzes out of Barbie Land and into his workplace. When the two reconnect, both start to realize they have been chasing the wrong things in life.
A/N:
This is singlehandedly the most indulgent thing I've ever written. I have selfshipped since I was a kid, yet Ken has blown every other crush out of the water. He means the world to me and I hope this fic can be a glimpse into why I adore him so much!
Quietly shelving books that preteens had shoved in various nooks and crannies around the library, things almost seemed peaceful for once. It was just before the final bell was due to ring and everything was finally quiet since class after class had descended upon the tiny library like wolves. The teachers tried their best to handle the large class sizes in an environment outside of the classroom and, well… At least there wasn't a ton of trash to clean up today. Just ripped up books that would either have to be taped up again or tossed in the ever-growing destroy pile.
Why were kids so destructive these days? Oswald sighed to himself as he ran his fingers along another torn cover. He didn't blame the kids, really. Junior high was rough, after all, and he certainly knew that the larger class sizes each year meant that so many of these kids were falling behind. Sometimes he wished he had pursued that teaching credential like he had dreamt of since he was young. That was a far and distant dream nowadays. Many of those silly childhood dreams were. Teacher. Cartoonist. Writer. This job barely paid the rent in Los Angeles, adding teacher expenses alongside student loans would be the final thing that would send him living in his car.
[Continue Reading or Read on AO3!]
The young librarian plopped down in his shoddy swivel chair to begin the process of rebinding all the destroyed books now piled up like an unstable mountain on his desk. It already took him through his lunch hour earlier, so he would just spend the rest of the day working on the daunting task. Somewhere in the faculty fridge, his salad was only getting more wilted and pathetic. It could wait. If he didn't do this now, it would just be another project to work on for hours after school and he loathed staying too late. Classifieds like him with no teaching degree weren't exactly encouraged to have more hours than what was on the schedule and the school had already warned him that there was plenty of time in the day to get all his job duties done.
Oz rolled his eyes at the thought. Administration was just so out of touch with what actually made the school run. When you get paid enough money, you stop caring if kids actually are thriving in public education or not. He let out a soft sigh as he booted up what was now considered an antique: the old Cover One machine. Lazily, he reached around in his drawer for his X-acto knife and gave a blank stare as he pulled it out. No blade. Seriously? How these little thieves got into his locked drawers was seriously impressive, yet mildly infuriating.
"Just take the whole thing next time," he muttered under his breath while reaching for his bag. Years of art supplies were stashed away in there, so he held his breath in prayer for a blade refill. "Shit!"
Of course it was loose. When did he ever have the common sense to put things in their proper cases? He carefully pulled the blade out and was thankful that the cut wasn't deep enough to bleed for more than a few seconds. A quick sucking on the tip of his index finger would heal him enough. Into the holder the blade went and Oz was back at the task of dissecting this book apart. As the blade sliced through the cover, severing it from the spine, Oswald winced. He was always so careful with his own books, always keeping them pristine while reading and never dared to even dog-ear the pages, he felt a bit guilty for the inanimate object he was holding. Hopefully books couldn't feel being tossed around and ripped apart. So many of them sat lonely and untouched on the shelves that he wondered which was a worse fate for something designed to be helpful to humans.
The librarian hummed to himself as he carefully cut off the dust cover before preparing a piece of adhesive to slide against the now bare spine. With the Cover One now warmed up, Oz delicately wrapped the book in wax paper before placing it in the machine. He firmly held the book steady until there were a few beeps signaling that it was done. Out the book came, almost for a breath of air, before he plopped it back in to let it settle for the next eleven minutes. He mused that he could try and fix some of the paperbacks while waiting for it to cool off when he heard the thick library door push open.
Figuring that it was one of the quiet kids coming in to retreat from the chaos of class dismissal, Oz’s face softened into a smile while he stood from his seat to greet them. However, when he saw the fully grown figure in a… cowboy costume? Oz paused. Having adults on campus wasn't unheard of, there were in fact many parents on a daily basis who came in and out even though they really should have stricter security measures at the school. But this person didn't really look like a parent trying to pick their kid up from school.
Was there an assembly Oz had forgotten about? Some weird yo-yo man teaching tricks to bored kids even in this day and age? Or maybe he was a cowboy teaching kids for a career day or something? But that costume didn't scream a real, genuine cowboy. Oz had grown up with vaqueros in Gilroy, watching them skillfully take care of the farmlands out there. And they did not look like this delicate, untouched pretty boy who had just strutted in.
Curiously, he elected to watch the stranger for the time being as nothing about the man really warranted him to freak out quite yet. It was actually a nice surprise. Oz sat back down in his chair and continued to work on his book repairs, his emerald eyes flashing up every now and then to see what the cowboy was up to. The man looked lost, like he had never been in a library before. He was staring at the ends of the isles, desperately searching for where a certain subject would be. Alright, he was starting to look pathetic enough that Oz had to help him out.
"Can I help you?" he inquired, sneaking up behind the cowboy.
There was a soft yelp from the blonde before he whipped around, baby blue eyes wide in fright. Oz was looked up and down before the stranger stood back up at his full height, eyes narrowed.
"You must be the keeper of these books?"
The question sounded almost impressed. Oz, obviously amused, gave a small nod.
"The one and only. What can I help you find?"
That caused the cowboy to look more relieved as a wide smile stretched across his goofy looking face.
"I'd like your books about men, please."
Oh. Oh? Well that was interesting. Was this man…? No, no. No need to make speculations. Just because Oz was gay didn't mean that every guy was. Though, with that outfit…
Oz shook the thought from his mind quickly, not wanting to assume that this pretty man was talking about the wide selection of queer books they had. He led the man to the non-fiction section before turning his head back up at him.
"Well, you'll have a lot to pick from, but I'd start here. Try the biographies and autobiographies if it gets too overwhelming," the ginger haired man offered with a smile. "If you have a better idea of… men, well, I can help you narrow it down."
The cowboy scanned the books for a moment, still seeming so puzzled. Oz might have to hold his hand through the entire library process wouldn't he?
"Do you have books about… the patriarchy?"
Oz blinked in surprise. Huh. Yeah, this guy was a weird one. Didn’t exactly scream incel but the request was a bit amusing coming from a handsome boy. He quickly walked down the isles to the war section and pointed out a few very outdated pieces of literature the school still somehow hung onto. The man ran his index finger along the spines before grabbing a few that interested him. Pleased with his selection, he beamed at Oswald. There was something charming and almost innocent the way he smiled. Like a proud child picking out their first book. Oz couldn’t help but feel a flutter in his heart at that.
"How about horses?"
Now that was a normal request. Fitting for the cowboy! Oz returned the smile and showed the cowboy their small selection. Wasn’t anything fancy, really. Perhaps an elementary school would have a wider selection. Back when he was a horse girl, that was the ultimate treasure trove of knowledge. Middleschoolers didn’t care about that sort of thing too much. ’That stuff’s for babies’ would be the usual complaint. So, the school barely kept anything fun in stock. Booooring! A total snoozeville. It’s like no kid could harbour a special interest anymore.
Oswald carefully pulled out the only book that was specific to horses and watched the man’s eyes go wide. Eager hands snatched it up, thumbs dancing along the cover as if he was trying to actually pet the horses plastered all over the book. That goofy smile never faded from the stranger even for a second.
“Yes! Yes…” The man was giggling. “This is perfect - do I have to pay for these?”
He suddenly looked very worried, full of cautious optimism searching Oz’s face for an answer while protectively clutching the handful of books to his chest. Oz let out a soft chuckle and shook his head.
“Normally you’d need a library card but, uh, you’re not a student. ‘sides, no one will miss those books if you took them. I think the last time anyone even looked at those books was more than a decade ago. They’d probably end up in a landfill soon anyways.” Playfully, he shot the cowboy a wink and pressed his index finger to his own lips. “Just keep quiet about it, ‘kay?”
There was that sweet smile again followed by frantic nodding.
“Of course! Your secret is safe with me, bookkeeper.”
“School librarian, but I kinda like bookkeeper better,” Oz laughed.
“Well, bookkeeper, I shall take these fine books and bid you ado,” the cowboy grinned, tipping his hat to Oz.
As the cowboy turned to leave, Oz reached out to grab his hand. It was so instinctual - like he was afraid of saying goodbye to this stranger. He couldn’t just let him go so easily. Maybe he could ask him what his deal was. Anything to spend another minute with him.
When their fingers grazed against each other, his mind exploded with visions that suddenly froze every muscle in his body and completely immobilized him.
Visions of him being very little with a doll in his hands. The only doll he ever had growing up. Ken. His Ken doll that he found in a pile of cheap toys at the flea market his family vended at. The one that caught his eye underneath the mountain of stuffed animals he normally would jump at the chance to pick through. Still in his tattered box. Oz never thought he’d be able to afford something so nice. His usual toys were old and discarded ones no longer wanted by their owners. Broken, unbranded, or simply just cheap fast food toys that other children grew tired of. The kind old lady selling the doll had given it to him for all the change he had rattling around in his pocket that day once she saw the quiet child’s nervous excitement just holding the box.
How very careful he was taking such an exquisite toy out of the box. Delicately opening the packaging and saving what he could before holding Ken tightly against his chest. Tears had rolled down his cheeks from just how happy he was to own something so nice. A little dollie all of his own. He’d be oh so careful to love and cherish this Ken for as long as he could!
They were inseparable. Ken was always in his coat pocket wherever he went. Despite being so young, Oz made sure to play with his toys as gingerly as possible. Ken was handled especially tenderly. Always getting a nice long bath in the sink after spending the whole day outside. Then getting tucked into a makeshift bed made out of tissues or scraps of fabric samples Oz’s mom let him have. All set up nice and cozy on the dresser next to his own bed so that he could keep Ken closeby. With Ken around, nightmares didn’t stand a chance.
Memories like this had been long locked away by Oz’s deep-rooted trauma. Yet now they were pouring in uncontrollably.
“Ken?” Oswald’s voice cracked as tears flooded his vision. It was so soft and uncertain. Surely this was a dream. It couldn’t be his Ken, right?
It looked like Ken had been hit with the same realization. His twinkling blue eyes were wide like a deer in the headlights as he searched Oz’s face. Immediately, his arms were around Oswald, holding him tightly. A laugh bubbled up from him and he just kept squeezing. So afraid to let go.
A memory. Ken had a memory! He wasn’t sure if he ever had one before, but it felt so nice. Brand new, a bit scary, but… he could feel something deep inside him that he had never felt before. The only thing he could compare it to was the feeling he had been chasing whenever Barbie looked at him. What was that funny feeling that made him feel so full?
“Oz! Wow!” He couldn’t stop himself from letting out excited little laughs of disbelief. “Is that really you? Look at how much you’ve grown…”
Clutching onto his old friend, Oswald was overcome with emotion. His smile was wide and shaky as he began to sob softly into Ken’s shoulder. Those were words he always craved to hear from loved ones since his transition. No one had ever said something so sweet to him.
Worried that he had upset his dear friend, Ken pulled back enough to closely examine the weeping man. Oz wasn’t frowning, no there was still a smile on his face, but why did he cry? Was he not happy to see him? Had he said something wrong?
“You should be standing in my curio cabinet at home,” Oz’s voice cracked, teary eyes looking up at his doll. “How…”
“You kept me?” It was Ken’s turn to be surprised.
“Of course I did.” Carefully, as if he were afraid that Ken would disappear like a fading dream, Oz cupped his doll’s cheek. “I tried to keep all my toys that my family didn’t haul off without me knowing.”
Family.
Ken remembered those people - they weren’t very nice. As the memories continued to trickle into his plastic brain, he could recall the nights Oz would cry after being berated by his aunt and uncle specifically. He had been so scared after his parents passed away. Hugging Ken close to him every night even though he was all grown up. How desperately Ken wanted to hug him back and tell him he was okay. To protect his boy. He could feel that protective surge swell in his chest, arms tightening his hold onto Oswald. Now he could properly hold his boy.
It was an unfamiliar feeling to be held like this. Sure, Oz gave plenty of hugs to his friends even as an adult. This was far different from that. His body tensed up for a moment like a frightened prey animal unable to move. However, the longer they stood in the embrace, he felt himself relax into Ken’s touch. The tears couldn’t stop themselves as soon as they cascaded back down his cheeks. Safe. For the first time in more than a decade, Oz felt safe.
“I’m so happy I found you again,” Ken murmured, dipping his head down to rest against Oz's.
“How is this possible, Ken? I - I’m not having one of those hallucinations again, right?” Nervously, the librarian pulled away so that he could stare into Ken’s eyes. It was so bizarre that Ken looked so human and yet still very dollike. “You feel real.”
“I am real!” Ken puffed out his chest and gave a bit of a flex to show off. “Does this not totally look real?”
There was a giggle from Oz as he placed a hand on the firm bicep that was being showcased. The fact that Ken was such a show-off was rather charming, he couldn’t lie. A true himbo like the human had always imagined.
“C’mon, dollie. I didn’t mean it like that.” He gave him a reassuring pat on his arm. “You know that my brain plays tricks on me.”
Ken’s boisterous behaviour faltered for a moment as he looked at his boy.
“You still see those… monsters?” he quietly asked.
“Sometimes. It’s not as scary like it was back then.” Oz gave a sheepish smile, feeling bad that he was causing Ken to worry so much. “I take medication to help now.”
Those arms were back around him, pulling him in for another hug.
“I won’t let them get to you. I can fight them for you now!”
How could Ken so easily make all the years of trauma slip away like it was nothing? Oz had been fighting for so long on his own, trying to make a life for himself in this crazy world. And now his doll was human-sized and a walking, talking being that somehow waltzed back into his life? He didn’t believe in fate. But this was one hell of a coincidence.
“But how are you here, Ken? I don’t understand.”
“That’s easy! Barbie was trying to find the little girl who was playing with her. Something about cellulite - whatever that is. Lots of transportation. And now we’re here in the Real World!”
Staring at him like he grew a second head, Oz cocked his head to the side.
“Barbie? I never had a Barbie. Did you… find a Barbie?”
Suddenly, Ken felt very warm. His face was red hot! That was weird. He was plastic. Was this another funny feeling he didn’t quite understand?
“Well, yeah. It’s Barbie and Ken, you know?”
Oz’s face softened at that.
“That’s sweet. My Ken has a Barbie. Huh.”
“Wh-what?” That blush was growing deeper. Ken looked nervous. But that funny feeling was growing when Oz called him his Ken.
“Nothin’. ’s just cute that you found your girlfriend. Is she here too?” He peeked out the window of the library, glancing through the crowds of preteens. Nothing loud and pink out there.
“She’s uh. Doing her own thing.”
Oz’s brow shot upwards and he tried his best to suppress his grin.
“Well, don’t let me keep you, Ken. Go on, go to her.” He pulled away from his doll, heart feeling achy at the thought of Ken leaving. But if Ken had a Barbie, he wasn’t going to keep him from her. Looks like his doll didn’t need him anymore.
It was Ken’s turn to grab Oz’s hand.
“I wanna stay with you longer. I’m sure she’ll be fine.” It was surprising to Ken that he was saying all this. Normally, he’d do anything to trail in Barbie’s shadow in the hopes she’d so much as look at him. But that didn’t seem to interest him right now. Not with his boy right in front of him. Something was telling him that he needed to stay with Oswald. “Please?”
Oz couldn’t say no to such a sweet face. How could anyone?
“Okay, okay. You’re really twistin’ my arm here,” he joked. Ken immediately let go, panic on his face. “Oh, no! I was just teasing! It’s an expression.”
The librarian turned his head to the stack of books on his desk. He should have stayed to finish the daunting work and not have even more on his plate for the next day, but…
Oh, come on! His childhood doll springs to life and he’s just supposed to go back to his mundane day job? Nuh-uh. He was going to spend as much time as he could with Ken in case he was plucked away back to wherever the hell he came from.
“If you give me ten minutes, I’ll wrap up everything here and maybe we could…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his head nervously. “Go back to my apartment or something?”
Ken lit up at that. Like an excitable dog, he was practically bouncing up and down. Then he realized he may be looking very uncool and tried to stand up straight to posture himself as calm and collected.
“That would be rad.”
“You can go over to those bean bags and chill for a bit - I’m sure you wanna read those new books you got.” Oz smiled, pointing to a circle of janky bean bag chairs that had seen much better years.
Oh right. The books. Ken had almost forgotten about the books he was carrying, fingers curling against the thick spines of each one. Somehow, he wasn’t that intrigued to explore the topics of this world that he had been so curious about not even ten minutes ago. That didn’t matter to him when Oswald was right there.
“I can read that stuff later,” he shrugged. “No big deal.”
Oz tried to bite back a laugh at the fact that Ken was trying to act so smooth after nearly bursting at the seams getting these books just a short bit ago. Was he wanting to impress Oswald now? What a silly doll. He simply gave a little nod and began to tidy up the books he had been rebinding, taking notice as Ken shuffled closer to try and take a peek. Oz didn’t mind the audience. Having his doll near him felt safe. A warm feeling that pooled in his belly that he hadn’t felt in so long. Maybe Ken could stick around longer before he went back to his dollhouse. Did Ken have a dollhouse? He’d have to ask a million questions about where Ken came from when they got back home.
The little flutters in his chest with Ken nearby were so bizarre. Was it excitement? Nervousness? There was a frenzy of emotions running through him all at once due to the fact that his doll was lifesize and following him around like a lost puppy. Such a sweet face. He could feel his own face grow warm with the threat of blush rising to his cheeks. Shit, when he went red, it was so painfully obvious! So he tried to hide his face with his long copper locks of hair and turn away from Ken as much as possible when tidying up. Maybe since Ken was so oblivious he wouldn’t notice his human getting flustered.
And he didn’t, thankfully. The doll was too occupied with watching what Oz was doing with his hands. How gentle they were with the tattered books lining his desk. Ken smiled to himself. Of course his boy was careful - he remembered how well taken care of he was when he was Oz’s doll. There was something swirling around in his own chest at the thought of it. Kens were merely accessories for Barbies and not typically played with on their own. Yet, with all the memories filling him, he now knew that he had been loved by his human. Looks like it wasn’t just Barbie that had someone! His half smirk was wide on his face with just how smug he felt. There was someone out there that loved Ken for being Ken. Wow!
“What’s that look for?” Oz chuckled, bag slung over his shoulder and car keys in hand as soon as he walked back up to Ken.
“Nothing!” Ken lied. Had to still play it cool. Couldn’t mess this chance up! “Just… ready for our hangout sesh.”
Oswald looked skeptically at Ken before he absentmindedly reached for the doll’s free hand. Their fingers laced together and Oz was pulling him to the door. It felt so natural that neither of them had questioned how sudden this was. Just bashful glimpses at one another like two shy kids holding hands for the first time.
“Alright, cowboy. Let’s go home.”
#Works of Oz#Fanfiction#Selfship#Ken#Barbie 2023#I swore I would start posting my Gosling stuff here so... hello everyone ;u;#Ryan Gosling
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Shelby's Part 2
Part 1, Part 2
(not my gif^)
Tim Gutterson x afab reader
Justified
Warnings: cursing, references to vomit, drinking
Ch: 2
You and Tim had an eventful conversation about your differing career paths.
“ So is puke the only thing kids do?” Tim said before taking a sip of his fourth beer.
You shrugged, “ It feels that way sometimes. Do you only point guns at people or is there more to being a Deputy Marshal?” You smirked, already knowing it wasn’t from your brother's short phone calls, but you didn’t like to talk about family.
You noticed as the night went on Tim seemed to loosen up.
He chuckled and turned his body towards you, feet on your chair’s footrest, elbow on the counter, and a beer in hand, “ I wish, that's the part I’m best at, but there is a surprising amount of paperwork involved in chasing fugitives.”
You mirrored his body language but crossed your legs instead of the half manspread he was doing across from you, “ Yeah I guess that’s where I lucked out,” you chuckled, “ being an art teacher for kids involves almost no paperwork,” you hummed, “although,” and leaned towards him a bit, “ I might trade you for the parent teacher conferences.”
You were obviously more than a little tipsy because as you were sitting back up you muttered “,but if the dads looked like you I might not mind so much.”
When your brain caught up with your mouth you felt your cheeks heat and you sincerely hoped he did not hear that.
You avoided his eyes by looking at the couple across the bar, but before you knew it Tim was leaning towards you and putting his foot next to yours on your stool. His voice was low when he spoke. “ I wouldn't mind a little one on one with you either.”
…
You ended up staying out much later than intended, talking or rather, flirting, with Tim. You couldn’t tell whether it was going to go anywhere, but looking at the time and your alcohol consumption and realized you would probably need to call a friend to take you home. You texted your friend and luckily enough Ava was a few minutes away. You thanked Tim for his company and you were off. Or at least you tried to be off. As soon as you stood up your head spun a bit and you felt a firm hand on your arm, “ Woah, be careful now. How’s about I walk you outside and we wait for your ride.”
You thought you had less to drink than Tim, so either he had a higher tolerance, or your muddled brain didn’t keep proper count.
Giggling on your way out of the bar. Tim seemed to find your incoherent babbling and endless giggles quite amusing as he sat you down on a bench outside the establishment.
“ Maybe I shoulda grabbed you some water on our way out to sober you up a bit.”
At that you pouted, “ I am sober.”
As Tim gave you a slight disapproving glare you burst into a fit of laughter again.
A few minutes later a car pulls up in front of the two of you. Tim was smirking at you as you folded over giggling at something he said when Ava rolled down her window.
“ Alright yall, you coming or what?”
Tim looks up at her then back at you to confirm that thia was infact your ride.
“Oh hi, Ava!” you yell a little too loudly for this late at night.
She rolls her eyes while Tim smiles and helps you to your feet and around to the passengers side.
“Am I giving you a ride too?” Ava asks as he helps you buckle your seatbelt while you ogle at him standing over you.
“ No Ma’am, just her,” he says standing back up, “ I can’t leave my car here. Thank you though, and drive safe.”
Tim then directs his attention to you, “ Sleep Well Darling, I had a good time tonight.”
You smile up at him, “ Me too, bye Tim.”
You wave as Ava pulls out of the lot and towards your apartment.
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Change of Pace Ch.4 - It's Actually Really Good
Summary: When a scandal breaks out after her father is arrested for Electoral fraud and Tax evasion she takes this opportunity to disappear leaving Atlas for a small town in the south where her Grandfather had a small farm that had fallen into disrepair. She arrives hoping to find a better life for herself and her daughter.
Words: 14,732
Main Relationship: Weiss Schnee/Ruby Rose
Rating: M
Notes: I'm currently working on posting links to fics I forgot about to tumblr. I'm also trying a new format for posting said links. If you want to set the mood for the fic please check out the playlist for it and you can check out my ko-fi if you want.
Fic:
Weiss leaned against the hood of her car watching as Ivory stalked around the yard, chasing some bug or other creature. She glanced at her watch, noticing that it was almost 1 o’clock and worry began to wedge itself into the pit of her stomach. ‘She must have decided that this was too much trouble than it was worth. I was kind of a bitch yesterday.’ Weiss shook her head. ‘Not even kind of. I was a total bitch. I couldn’t even blame her if she—‘ Weiss was cut off mid-thought by the sound of a car engine turning off. She turned to see the beat-up red truck that she now remembered belonged to Ruby. She watched as the other women stepped out of the car slamming the door closed behind her. She smiled at Weiss, waving her hand excited as she yelled.
"Hey, Weiss! Been waitin' long?"
Weiss held up her hand waving awkwardly at the overly cheerful woman. 'How is she so happy all the time?' Weiss watched as she disappeared behind her truck, leaving Weiss standing awkwardly until she reappeared, holding a dingy-looking toolbox. She trotted over to where Weiss stood, setting a box on the ground she placed her hands on her hips.
“You weren’t waiting long, were you?”
“No.” A lie but admitting that she’d been waiting an hour wasn’t something Weiss was willing to do. “Not long at all.”
“Okay, good.” She laughed breathlessly in what almost seemed like relief. “I wouldn’t want to have been waiting long for me.” An awkward silence followed as Ruby looked around. “Where is your, uh, daughter?”
Weiss turned her head calling out. “Ivory!” She watched as her head popped out from behind some bushes. She had leaves sticking out of her hair and a steak of what she hoped was dirt over her cheek. “Right there.”
Ruby nodded before gesturing to the back of her head. “Oh, how’s your noggin?”
Weiss reached up, running her fingers over the back of her head. “I took some baby aspirin last night and it feels a lot better now. Thanks for asking.”
“That’s great! So, should we get started?”
“Before that, I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I was out of line and my attitude toward you wasn’t warranted.” Weiss glanced over her shoulder where Ivory was following a frog through some tall grass. She returned her attention to Ruby, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was a major bitch to you yesterday when you were only trying to help.”
Ruby laughed, catching Weiss off-guard. “You kind of were but believe it or not I’ve dealt with worse.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
“Well believe it.” She said her eyebrows shot up as she nearly yelled. “Oh! I brought lunch. Do ya want some?”
“What? Did your mommy pack your lunch for you?” Weiss snarked only to immediately regret it. She pressed a hand over her face, letting out a remorseful groan. ‘Seriously? I just apologized for being a bitch.’
“Yeah, she did!” Weiss looked up to see her smiling at her as if she hadn’t even heard the tone behind her comment. “She packed extra so I have some to share if ya want.”
Before Weiss could even open her mouth to reply her stomach spoke up in her stead, growling loudly. Ruby laughed, smiling and Weiss awkwardly chuckled. “I guess some food couldn’t hurt.” Weiss turned, calling out. “Ivory!” She watched as her head appeared out of more tall grass which Weiss knew would have to be the first thing to go. “Come here please!”
“Okay!” Ivory called trotting over to where Weiss and Ruby stood. She looked up at Weiss, tilting her head to her side. Weiss ran a hand through her hair, picking out a leaf that had gotten stuck in her hair. “Did you need something, mommy?”
“Yes. Miss Rose here brought extra food. Are you hungry?”
Ivory tilted her head to the side before smiling. “Uh-Huh!” Weiss placed her hand on her head, ruffling her hair.
Weiss looked up locking eyes with Ruby. “So, what did you bring?”
“It’s meatloaf sandwiches!” Weiss’s face crumpled into a strange expression of disgust causing Ruby to laugh. “It’s good, I swear.”
‘Not like I have much of a choice.’ Weiss placed her hand on Ivory’s shoulder, pulling her against her body. “Okay. I’ll take your word for it.” Weiss followed Ruby back toward her truck, watching as she lowered the tailgate, patting it.
“Take a seat. I’ll get the food.”
Weiss picked Ivory up, setting her on the bed of the truck before jumping on it herself. Ivory kicked her legs back, humming which quickly dissolved into her ribbiting as she bobbed her head from side to side. Weiss chuckled, ruffling her hair. “What are you?”
“A frog!”
“A frog?! I thought you were an Ivory?”
Ivory giggled. “I’m both!”
“Both!?” Weiss faked an incredulous expression, widening her eyes.
“Both!” Ivory yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. Weiss pressed her lips against Ivory’s cheek, blowing a raspberry into her cheek tickling her sides causing her to let out a peal of laughter pushing at Weiss’s chest. “Mommy! Stop it! Please!”
Weiss pulled away, eyeing Ivory. “Okay,” She dragged out the word slightly. “But only because you asked nicely.”
“Okay! Who's hungry?”
“Me!” Ivory threw her hand up. “I’m hungry!”
Read On Ao3
#Change of Pace#CoP#Whiterose#Whiterose fanfiction#duck does words#my fanfiction#Ivory Schnee#Weiss Schnee#Ruby Rose#RWBY#RWBY Fanfiction
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Solar Opposites in Mighty Solars Issue #40: “Stolen” Pt. 1 Ch. 2
The Human Solars dropped off Sonya as she waves goodbye to them. Then, the human Solars starts driving home.
Human Jesse Solar-Opposites: You know, it's been a good few days.
Human Yumyulack Solar-Opposites: Yeah, ever since Sonya came along, our lives become better than ever.
Human Terry then flirts with Human Korvo.
Human Terry Solar-Opposites: Say, do you wanna head home and have some fun later, my sweet invisible man?
Human Korvo blushesz
Human Korvo Solar-Opposites: chuckles I sure you big strong sexy brute.
Yumyulack gags.
Phoebe MacCarthy: laughs You guys and your love is very sweet.
Human Terry Solar-Opposites: putting his hand on Human Korvo’s cheek Of course it is.
The two husbands then start making out, until they heard an explosion.
Human Yumyulack Solar-Opposites: What was that?!
The Solar Opposites then drive their bus until, the road was blocked. Human Korvo then sees a broken bridge as he got out of the car and the Solars turn back into their normal alien selves.
Korvo: What the fuck happened here?
Terry: in the car Korvo? What’s happened?! What going on?
Korvo: I-I don’t know I- gasp when he see the Silver Blades and the Silver Cop symbol on their helmets
Some of the Solar Opposites’ human friends and frenemies came out of the building and sees the Silver Blades.
Kevin’s Daughter: to Kevin out his arm around her and her brother What is it, Daddy?
Korvo: looks at the Silver Blades; turns to Parker We need to get everyone out of here. The rest of the Solar Opposites got out of the car and gets out their lethal weapons as they get into a defense stance Stay close to me.
The Solar Opposites got in front of the townsfolk to shield them just in case of an attack as they sneak away from the Silver Blades. Finally, they made on a church where Yumyulack, Jesse, who is carrying Pupa, Monica, Parker and Kevin’s children looks at the Silver Blades’ vehicle.
Phoebe: turns to Korvo and Terry What's going on, Korvo?
Terry: I think that must be the Silver Cops.
Korvo: to the rest of the Solar Opposites Round everyone up! We need to get to the exit and evacuate immediately!
Montez, Phoebe, and Cherie, who is carrying Pezlie, start running as the Silver Blades’ vehicle is flying behind them. Cuts to a cafe where Sherbet is busy making a soda float for a costumer until the trip suddenly shows up.
Cherie: Sherbet, we got an emergency. We're evacuating the city. grabs Sherbet’s hand Come on!
Costumer: Hey! What about my fucking float?!
Montez, Cherie, Phoebe, Pezlie and Sherbet start running when silver lava appears underground and blocking their way.
Montez: Holy fuck! Look out!
The quartet and Pezlie eject themselves back. Zelda looks on smiling evilly, revealing she is the one responsible for the lava. Later, at the meditation room in a local spa where Mia is meditating with four other women. A door sound disturbs them and they turn toward it. Yumyulack and Jesse appears and heads to them as Jesse turns off the music.
Yumyulack: holding Jesse’s hand worriedly It's the Silver Cops! We have to leave.
Quickly, Yumyulack, Jesse, Monica Mia and the other four women run outside. Jesse screams as Aqua grabs her from behind with Loo-Loo and menaces her with an ice spike.
Aqua: No one's going anywhere, or she gets it.
Back with Korvo and Terry, who is carrying the Pupa, the two husbands, Parker and some of their human allies running across a bridge. Bullet soon lands in front of them.
Bullet: Good. The entire family is here.
The Solar Opposites and the humans are rounded up in the courtyard by the Silver Blades.
Bullet: It's a pleasure to finally meet five Shlorpians in awhile.
Parker: What is it you want from us?
Maverick: Nothing at all. In fact, if everyone cooperates, you will all walk out of this situation unharmed.
Korvo: Then what are you doing here?
Maverick: We want you five Shlorpians, and I'm tired of chasing you parasite motherfuckers all these years.
Terry: You're using us as prisoners?!
Maverick: Yes.
Terry: Korvo, Terry, Parker and Pupa gets into a fighting stance as the humans stand behind them We will never let you get to us.
Bullet: Unfortunately, you don't have a choice.
Parker: Fuck yeah we do.
Parker pushes the five corrupted crooks away with her own weaponry blades.
Korvo: Terry! Get everyone out of here. Parker, help me hold them off! Zelda shoots near Korvo, but he uses his force field without anyone noticing to protect the group And stay out of her line of sight! Go, go!
Terry and the other humans all run away to saftey. Loo-Loo fires a fast lightning beam at the exit, though everyone has evacuated. Cut to the frontal shot of the siblings, as Yumyulack Jesse, Pupa and Monica prepares to defend themselves. Silver Blades ready themselves and Bullet stomps his feet to the ground before creating big rocks, which causes the kids to lose anny chance of escaping, reaching the end of the sheltered route. They look at the stable and Yumyulack gestures for them to move out, though they are forced to retreat when bombarded with combustion beams. Meanwhile, Later, at the hall exit, Zelda and Bullet approach Phoebe, Cherie, Montez and Pezlie who were trying to reach for the exit.
Montez: It's too dangerous. We'll never make it to the stables with her up there.
Phoebe: Don’t worry, I got you covered. grabs a metal beam with her strength that creates a bridge to safety Come on.
Cherie: Thanks, we owe you.
Phoebe blushes at Cherie. Suddenly, Zelda and Bullet surrounds as the trio gasp.
Zelda: creates a silver-red flame with her hand You wanna play with fire? throws the fireball at Cherie’s left arms as she screams in pain
Pezlie: Mama!
Phoebe: Cherie! No!
Montez: Cherie!
Phoebe: to Zelda Grrr! You bastard! You leave her alone! You hurt Cherie, I’ll-
Bullet shoves Phoebe and Montez to the ground as they scream. Zelda wraps as silver red rope around Cherie who is carrying Pezlie, who started crying.
Cherie: struggling to break free No! Phoebe! Montez! Get out of there! Go get the Mighty Solars!
Zelda: grabs Cherie and Pezlie away from Phoebe and Montez You and your little brat are not going anywhere. So long, bitches!
Zelda and Bullet transports away with Cherie and Pezlie, much to Phoebe and Montez’s horror.
Phoebe: CHERIE! NO! collapses on the ground in tears as Montez puts a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she refuses to give up
Later, with Terry, he and the other humans made it until suddenly, Loo-Loo appears laughing maniacally and like a crazy fucking psycho.
Loo-Loo: laughing Going somewhere?!
Terry: Get the fuck out of our you crazy bitch!
Loo-Loo: charging up Make me!!!
Loo-Loo speeds around at the humans as they gasp once she puts electric ropes around them, except for Kevin and Sherbet, who were knocked away as they gasp.
Kevin: calling to his kids and wife Honey! Kids!
Kevin’s Wife: Kevin! Get help!
Kevin’s Children: Daddy! Help us! Please Daddy!
Terry sees the captured humans as he kicks Loo-Loo in the face.
Terry: Let ‘em go you fucking psycho!
Suddenly, Bullet appears behind Terry as he grabs him hard and Loo-Loo shocks Terry as he screams. Terry then gets tied up as Kevin and Sherbet looks on in horror.
Sherbet: No!
Terry: struggling to break free because of the restraints Kevin! Sherbet, get to Korvo! Quick!
Sherbet nods with tears in his eyes. She cries a little as she looks back at Terry but escapes with Kevin. Bullet smirks and uses his ability to knock Randall out. Meanwhile, Korvo and Parker continues to battle Maverick who bends the floor beneath Korvo into make it a hill, but he is able to jump off and lands safely with his feet. Maverick directs purple silver spades to Korvo, but he leaps to the wall and charges toward Maverick and kicks him in the stomach, sliding beneath his legs behind him. Parker pounces atop the lavabender, grabbing him by the neck and pulling his hair before stabbing him on the shoulder. Maverick screams in pain before launching Parker his hand. Korvo growls as he helps Parker up and stares angrily at Maverick. Back with Yumyulack, Jesse, Monica and Pupa evades Ming-Hua's attacks before being thrown toward her brother. Both siblings gather in front of a statue to catch some breath, until Aqua appears in front them as the kids scream.
Aqua: See smartass, you're having as much fun as I am.
Yumyulack then sees the exit and looks at his bo staff.
Yumyulack: Ugh I can't fucking wait any longer. grabs his staff
Jesse: Wait, what are you doing?
Monica: Yumyulack! Let me fight ‘em! Krav Maga! gets into her fighting stance
Yumyulack: No! I’m gonna do whatever I can to get them away from you guys. turns to Monica and Jesse, who picks up the Pupa to carry him Quick girls, you and Pupa to the exit! Get out of here!
Aqua fires a water beam at Yumyulack, who narrowly misses the attack. The next water beam threw Yumyulack off the cliff, but he manages to climb back up. As he runs past Aqua, they turn their attention to Jesse, Monica and Pupa fleeing to safety. Cut to Yumyulack who tries to head back to girls and Pupa, sending a swipe to Aqua, causing her to misfire and splash the cliff above. Aqua turns her attention to Yumyulack and fires a water beam. Yumyulack protects himself with his laser eyes without anyone noticing, but is knocked out. The girls and Pupa turns back and gasp in horror upon seeing Yumyulack falling.
Jesse: with tears on her eyes Yummylack! No!
Pupa: reaching out his right hand Yumyulack!
Monica: Yumyulack! turns to Aqua and then sees Loo-Loo coming down I’ll take care of this! Krav Maga!
Loo-Loo: Think you can catch me?!
Monica uses her special moves of Krav Maga as Loo-Loo tries to dodge with her speed.
Monica: Damn it, will you stop dodging me?!
Loo-Loo: Oh, I wouldn’t dare compete with the speed of you…. Lightspeed!
Monica: gasp upon hearing what she just heard Wha? You know who I am!
Loo-Loo: Yes! blast Monica with a rope that ties around her and Jesse as the latter drops the Pupa accidentally as he screams.
Jesse: to Pupa Pupa! Get the fuck out of here! Get to Korvo and Terry! Quick!
Pupa gasp and whimpers as he runs away to safety. Back with Korvo and Parker, they then see Yumyulack, plunging down the mountain.
Korvo: Yumyulack! No!
Korvo leaps up towards his son as he catches him in his arms as Yumyulack wakes up and sees himself in Korvo’s arms.
Korvo: breathing in and out I got you Yumyulack, I got you.
Yumyulack: crying hysterically upon facing a near-death experience Ko-or-or-vo-o-o!
Korvo has hugs Yumyulack as he comforts him with a cool down soothing fatherly hug as Parker looks at them in concern. Back with Phoebe, she and Montez finds Pupa, who running to them. His nanny retreats to cover him, by kicking Zelda away, though the next attack causes her to fall on a tree branch. Montez steps back and nearly loses his footing. Bullet appears and levitates a large earth fissure, throwing two adults and Pupa off the branch. Phoebe uses her lasso and holds on to the ledge while grabbing Pupa and Montez.
Phoebe: I got you.
Montez groans before turning to see Zelda.
Phoebe: Hang on boys! This is gonna be a bumpy landing.
Bullet directs a combustion beam toward Phoebe. Phoebe hangs on before letting go, narrowly missing the combustion blast. Phoebe, Montez and Pupa plunge down the cliff before their fall is cushioned by trees, and they land on the cliffside safely as Pupa holds on to Phoebe. Korvo sees them and uses his force field around them and Montez to save them from their fall as they meat up with Korvo, Yumyulack and Parker as they meet up with them and Sherbet and Kevin catches up to them. Maverick laughs evilly as the rest of the Silver Blades appear behind him.
Maverick: Give up. It's over.
Korvo: As long as I got my family, it's not over. wields his sword
Zelda: I’m afraid you weird-ass family are right in our grasp.
Korvo and Yumyulack: What?!
Phoebe: What have you done to Terry, Jesse and the rest of the humans, you monsters?! Cause if you hurt them, including Cherie, I’ll-
Maverick: You’re too late! We already taken them! They are now our prisoners! You can’t stop us now! Once test some of those pathetic humans, you aliens will be ours for the taking!
Korvo and Yumyulack: What?!
Pupa: Noo!
Phoebe: You bastards! Give us back our family you bitch!
Maverick: It’s too late! They’re ours now! And there’s nothing you can do about it! Meet us at dawn, or your family gets it! Silver Blades, retreat!
Korvo, Yumyulack, Pupa, Phoebe, Parker, Montez, Sherbet and Montez watches in horror as the Silver Blades took Terry, Jesse, Monica and the other humans away. Nova sees what’s happening down below and gasp in horror upon seeing Korvo’s bruises on his face.
Nova: Korvo! Guys! What happened?!
Korvo: It’s the Silver Cops! They’ve sent down five new apprentices and captured Terry, Jesse and the rest of the humans!
Yumyulack: Korvo! Our family! We have to-
Korvo: Go after them! I know!
Korvo, Yumyulack, Phoebe and Pupa nods at their corned to come with them as they head inside the Mighty Solars Javeline after Korvo summons it and flies off to follow them. Meanwhile, Sonya is waiting for her family, until she sees a news notification about the Mighty Solars and gasp.
Sonya Solar-Opposites: I gotta find them!
#solar opposites#solar opposites au#solar opposites: mighty solars#mighty solars#the mighty solars#solar opposites mighty solars#korvo/quasarblast#terry/mighton#yumyulack/vil gil an t#jesse/fung irl#pupa/the mighty pupa#phoebe/starburst#phoebe maccarthy#monica/lightspeed#monica miller#parker/venus tip#parker solar opposites#sonya solar opposites#miss frankie#kevin solar opposites#principal cooke solar opposites#montez the wall#cherie the wall#nova the wall#pezlie the wall
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