#it would be too much for six feet under to do this bc it’s an hour long show but it could be one of the plots

[guess-my-next-obsession]

25 w joel!!

The Third Date

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

rating: E (18+ ONLY, minimal plot, cunnilingus bc obviously, unprotected piv, joel talks you through it, rough-ish sex, creamp!e, soft fluffy joel bc daddy, i love him)

wc: 2.6k

prompt: 25. “Does that feel good?”

joel masterlist

The summer breeze offered just a bit of respite from the Texas heat, even though the sun had long gone down. You had a stuffed animal tucked under your arm, something bright pink and unicorn-adjacent, though you couldn’t be sure. He won it for you at the county fair, the location of your third date that somehow managed to top the first two. You had no intention of keeping it for yourself, it was much too big and ostentatious for your taste, but you thought it would make a nice gift for Joel’s six-year old daughter.

Walking up the pathway to your apartment, Joel’s hand clasped with yours, you began to feel a thrilling rustle of excitement and anticipation in your stomach. He’d been a gentleman so far, keeping his kisses tame and not letting his hands wander too far, but this was the third date, after all. You couldn’t help but pray he’d finally accept your invitation to come inside your place tonight.

“So,” he started, a shy smile on his face as you faced each other in front of your door. “I had a really good time tonight.”

“Me too.” You smiled back just as smitten. “I know you mentioned wanting to wait, but…if you wanted, you could come inside.”

Joel seemed to study you for a moment, his smile growing wider as he admired the sparkle in your eye. He’d been wanting to follow you inside since your first date, but given that he wanted something serious to come from this, he figured the smartest thing to do would be to wait for the right moment. And right now seemed as right as ever, though he did feel a little embarrassed to only make it three dates before giving in to his need for you.

“I’d love to,” he replied, reaching to cup your jaw. You closed your eyes as he leaned in to press his lips against yours, soft and sweet, just like all the other times, but soon it grew hungrier. He moaned against your lips as your fingers curled over the leather of his belt, tugging him closer. “Maybe we should take this inside, darlin’.”

“Yeah,” you panted, nodding as you scrambled through your bag to find your keys. Unlocking your door and stepping inside, Joel plucked the stuffed animal from underneath your arm and set it down on the carpet before quickly finding your hips and walking you backwards into your living room. “Wait—“ you giggled as you fell back against the plush cushions. “Shut and lock the door.”

“Oh, right,” he chuckled and blushed at his eagerness, the front door still wide open. He walked over to it and shut it, locking the doorknob and closing the deadbolt for extra measure. When he turned back to you, he was still flushed. “Got ahead of myself there.”

“That’s okay,” you assured in a purr, curling your finger at him to beckon him close again. “I like it when you get ahead of yourself.”

“Oh yeah?” he grinned and strutted towards you until he was leaning over the couch, his lips ghosting over yours. “You look so goddamn beautiful sittin’ here, you know that?”

“Why don’t you show me just how beautiful you think I am…with these?” You laced your fingers with his and and squeezed.

“Do I have permission to use more than just my hands?” he purred as he pulled you up onto your feet, his hands leaving yours so that he could hold the small of your back while yours rested on his chest.

“Depends, I think I need a sample first,” you purred back with a smirk. Tipping your head towards the hallway, you whispered, “Bedroom’s that way.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Joel never let go of you as he walked you backwards down the hall, his lips slowly and carefully working yours until you were sure if you tried to speak, the only thing that would come out was a string of incoherent squeaks.

“This one?” Joel asked as you arrived at your closed bathroom door, and you were forced to test your theory.

“No,” you managed, pointing behind him at the other closed door. “That—it’s that one.”

“You nervous?” he asked, his face shifting from one of amusement to concern. You quickly shook your head and reached your hand to his face.

“No,” you found your vocal footing. “Well, I mean as nervous as anyone would be before they took a beautiful man like you to bed.” Joel blushed. “You just…make me dizzy, that’s all.”

“I make you dizzy?” he asked as though it was an unheard of thought. “Baby—“ He grabbed your hand and lowered it to his thumping heart. “You’re making me dizzy.”

“Joel,” you exhaled. “Open the door.”

Joel nodded, a look of stunned reverence on his face as he scrambled to reach behind him for the doorknob, fumbling with it until it turned and opened the door. You stumbled inside, your hands gripping onto his shirt while his lifted the skirt of your dress, your teeth clashing as he kissed you breathless, neither of you caring about how sloppy it was.

“Take your clothes off,” you ordered as you lifted your dress over your head. Joel was quick to obey your command, tugging his t-shirt over his head before peeling his jeans off. You crawled onto your bed and sat on your knees in the middle of it, a smile on your face as he took you in. Joel ticked his jaw and chuckled as he crawled onto the mattress to join you, his warm palms resting on your waist as he guided you back against the pillows.

“You’re fuckin’—“ He shook his head as he hovered above you, his eyes taking over your entire form. “Breathtakin’, baby.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you grinned.

“Oh, yeah right. You’re just sayin’ that.”

“No—“ You reached for his hand, lowering it until his fingertips rested on your clothed mound, allowing him to feel your dampness. “That’s what you do to me.”

“Fuck,” he exhaled and leaned down to kiss you again, deep and slow and hungry. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

You didn’t doubt his promise, the look in his eyes alone lighting you up in ways every other lover never seemed to master.

His lips traveled down the slopes and curves of your body, stopping at the cups of your bra to knead your breasts in his hands. His fingers slipped the straps down your shoulders before he reached beneath you to undo the clasp, the lace slowly unveiling your pert nipples to him for the first time. He sucked in sharply and looked up at you as though he was seeing god.

“Perfect.”

Your back arched as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth, his hand snaking down your belly and back to the damp spot on your lacy panties.

“God,” you moaned, your eyes screwing shut as he rubbed perfectly pressured circles against your clit, the lace adding a beautiful bit of friction that had you keening for more.

“Does that feel good?” he rasped as he kissed his way to your other breast. You nodded quickly and lowered your eyes to meet his, your breath hitching at the look of lust blowing out his already dark eyes. “Good. I’m just gettin’ started with you.”

“Fuck,” you whined, already nearly fucked-out and he’d hardly even touched you.

Joel’s lips moved lower, pressing sloppy, open mouthed kisses to your stomach and over your navel until he was kissing the waistband of your panties. Moving lower, he ran his nose up and down your clothes slit, an animalistic groan vibrating against your core.

“Smells so sweet, baby,” he praised in a rasp. “Can I taste you?”

“Please,” you urged, combing his dark hair back as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and tugged them off you. When he returned to his spot between your legs, he pressed kisses onto the sensitive skin of your thighs, urging them to fall open for him. When you finally worked up the courage to spread yourself wide for him, Joel took a look at your soaked pussy and nearly drooled, his eyes wild as they lifted from your heat to your eyes.

“I’m gonna stay down here forever, baby, so damn pretty.” You were about to respond to his praise but he cut you off with a broad lick from your dripping entrance up to your clit, punctuating it with a swirl of his tongue. Your back arched off the bed and your hands found the headboard, pressing on them to find purchase so you didn’t float off into heaven. “Tastes so fuckin’ good, too, baby. You’re just a fuckin’ dream, ain’t ya?”

“Joel,” you nearly cried, so consumed by him and the filth leaving his tongue that you didn’t even care how desperate you sounded. Joel didn’t seem to mind, either, his tongue returning to your folds to pull more pretty sounds from you. “You feel—fuck—you feel so good.”

He hummed against you and you could feel his smile as he lapped at you. You didn’t dare look down at him, knowing that if you did, you’d never be able to look at anything else ever again. The man between your legs was quickly earning his spot as your idol, beating out any god that would dare smite you for it.

“So fuckin’—“ he mumbled into your pussy, the last few words turning into nothing but hums against your clit as he sucked it into his mouth. You were already there, free-falling over the cliffs of bliss, but when he pressed two fingers deep into your cunt and curled up, you swore you died and went to heaven, but that couldn’t be—not for someone so gladly taking part in sin like this. “There you go,” he praised, pulling back enough to watch you writhe, your cunt pulsing around his fingers. “So good for me, baby.”

“Joel, please,” you mewled, grabbing at him to pull him back to you. You needed to ground yourself under the weight of his body, to feel his warmth and remember that you were here, and so was he. Joel obliged, climbing back up your body until he was resting on top of you, hugging you close. “Let me taste you.”

“Not tonight, baby,” he whispered in your ear. “Just wanna make you feel good.”

“You’re…perfect,” you sighed and he chuckled, pulling one out of you in turn. He propped himself up on his elbows and stroked your hair back, grinning down at you.

“I like you a lot,” he confessed, his eyes as tender as his voice.

“I like you a lot, too,” you smiled back. “But right now, I want you fuck me like you can’t stand me.”

“Oh yeah?” he chuckled before leaning in to kiss your pulse. “You want it rough, baby?”

“Mmhm,” you hummed in response and nodded.

“Turn over for me,” he ordered. “All fours.”

You wasted no time in obeying, your body scrambling into your knees as soon as he lifted himself off you. Pressing your face and chest down, you arched your ass up as high as you could, turning your head so that you could catch a glimpse of him from over your shoulder as he lined himself up behind you.

“I don’t have a condom,” he warned. “But I got tested a few weeks back and I’m clean.”

“Me too, and I’m on birth control.” He nodded and leaned down to press a kiss to the globe of your ass. Shaking it for him, he cooed in delight at the sight. “Hurry up back there, I’m getting needy.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You could hear the grin on his face. “I like it when you boss me around.”

“Good, so do I.” You chuckled for a moment, but were cut off by the blunt head of his cock pressing into your entrance, sliding all the way in in one quick thrust. You gasped and gripped the pillows beneath you as he kept himself buried completely in your heat for a moment, his own breath ragged as he waited for you to acclimate to his girth. “So fucking big, Joel.”

“Baby, I ain’t gonna last long,” he warned, wrecked and trembling already. “Rub that pretty clit for me while I fuck you, can you do that?”

Nodding your head, you reached beneath you to start rubbing circles against your swollen and sensitive bud while he withdrew his cock all the way before shoving back in, the head of hit prodding against your g-spot.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned, eyes squeezing shut as he set a brutal pace, his cock pistoning in and out of you just like you asked for. You knew you were going to be sore in the morning but none of that mattered now, not with the searing hot pleasure of ecstasy building again. When his hand came cracking down upon your ass, you gasped, but any worry you may have caused Joel was quickly dispelled by the twitching of your walls around him.

“You like that, don’t ya?” he teased in a purr, bringing his hand down to spank the other cheek, your pussy pulsing for him again. “God,” he choked on the word. “Such a dirty fuckin’ girl for me, ain’t ya?”

“Yes!” you cried, your fingers now working your clit fast, your toes curling as your orgasm threatened to wreck you for good. “Joel, I’m—“

“Go on, baby,” he urged. “Soak my cock.”

You fell flat onto the bed as your orgasm hit, but Joel followed you, his brutal thrusts never ceasing as you came for him with a cry of his name so loud you were concerned the neighbors would call the police.

“Fuck!” he moaned loud enough for them to hear, too. “I’m gonna cum, baby. Where do you want me?”

“My pussy,” you managed, still reeling from your high. “Cum inside my pussy.”

“Jesus,” Joel groaned, feral like a wild animal and pressed deep inside you, so deep that you could feel him in your stomach as his cock swelled and twitched with his release. His chest heaved against your back as he laid over your limp form, pressing kisses to your shoulders. “Fuck.”

“Talk about a good third date,” you sighed, content and sated. Joel laughed and nodded as he rested his head against your shoulder, carefully and slowly pulling out of you with a hiss before rolling over onto his back.

“I probably should’ve asked earlier, but…can I stay the night with you?” he asked, drawing hearts on the heated skin of your back. You turned your head to the other side to face him and grinned.

“What about Sarah?”

“She’s at my mom’s,” he assured.

“In that case, yes. I would love it if you stayed the night.” He grinned and beckoned you into his side and you nestled in there, resting your head on his chest and taking your turn drawing your name on his skin. “Besides, that gives me the chance to finally suck your dick like I’ve been dreaming about.”

“God, baby,” he groaned and rolled you onto your back, resting himself between your thighs as he pecked every inch of your face. “How am I gonna ever leave this bed?”

•

•

•

•

•

•

•

•

•

•

•

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller reader insert #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction

[highvern]

Jealousy

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader

Genre: angst? humor, idiots in love

Warnings: jealous reader, mingyu is kinda an fboy but not really, Seungkwan is a readerxmingyu stan, alcohol mention

Length: ~1.5k

Note: another Drunk Goggles prequel! its a twin piece to bite the bullet bc they're both dumb jealous idiots but this is still very early on in their relationship.

If looks could kill then the nameless girl chatting with Mingyu at the bar, tracing her manicured nails down his bicep as she giggles obscenely, would be six feet under by now. 

She technically isn’t doing anything wrong; you and Mingyu aren’t a couple, you have no right to be upset when someone flirts with him. It's a given that someone as handsome and charming as him has a line of people bidding for his attention. But it doesn’t stop your mood from turning to shit when it happens. Frowning into your watered down drink, you swallow the remaining liquid, wincing against the bitterness. If you’re gonna watch people throw themselves at him tonight you’re definitely going to need something stronger than what’s in your cup.

You make your way to the far end of the bar, away from Mingyu and his new “friend,” ordering yourself two shots of tequila to extinguish the fury igniting your veins. The burn of liquor hurts far less than what you witness from the corner of your eye. Mingyu’s back is to you, obscuring his face but not the face of Yeji or Yeri or whatever her name was. She’s smiling at him coyly, blinking up from under her lashes as she leans a little too far into his personal bubble. Mingyu is an idiot if he can’t tell how much this girl wants him to take her home. Her less than subtle squeeze of his bicep sends your eyes rolling and an indignant scoff living your throat. You’ve seen more than enough.

Pushing away from the sticky wooden surface with a new drink in your hand, you creep back towards the table your friends are spread around. Luckily, most are either caught in conversation and don’t notice your tense expression or they’re kind enough to ignore it.

Keyword: most.

Jihyo hones in on your attitude change in zero seconds. And because she is about as subtle as a bull in a China shop, she jumps up to snag your hand and pull you towards the bathroom without a word before anyone else can say anything (re: Seungkwan who is about to kick Mingyu’s ass on your behalf).

“Mingyu’s an idiot.” Jihyo states calmly once she’s locked the door. 

She watched Yerin approach Mingyu at the bar and knew the second you saw there would be a meltdown. Jihyo won’t judge you, she never does. But she will wring Mingyu’s neck the next time he comes to her for advice about you. This was definitely not something she would have suggested to him.

“I’m not upset!” You cry, but it’s no use.

“Oh please,” she snorts. “I saw you at the bars. You only drink tequila when your feelings are hurt.”

“He can do what he wants, it’s not like we’re dating.”

“So? You like him, he likes you. If he’s gonna act like a dick in the meantime then he should have at least done it where you wouldn’t have seen.”

“If he likes me so much, why is he flirting with some girl?” You warble.

The tears forming in the corners of your eyes are sponsored by shitty tequila and a long island iced tea.

"Because he’s a dumbass.” She raises her voice. “He adores you, but he’s a dumbass.”

“He can adore my foot up his ass.”

“He probably would.” She contemplates. 

You snort. Jihyo knows exactly how to make you feel better. 

“If you wanna go home, I’ll come with you. I hate this bar.”

“No you don’t, but I appreciate it.” 

“Alright then, can we please get out of here?” 

“Yeah, it smells like vomit.” Your face twists as you dab away the tears on your cheeks.

“I thought that was just you.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.” Jihyo argues. “Now, let's go show him what he's missing!”

You raise an eyebrow but leave the cramped space nonetheless.

It's difficult to hide your shock when you approach the table and find Mingyu getting an earful from Seungkwan. You can’t make out what he’s saying but Seungkwan's face is red with either alcohol or anger (probably the latter given the way he’s gripping Mingyu’s collar). Mingyu’s eyes are wide in fear as he’s shaken to and fro by the younger man.

But when Mingyu sees you approach over his friend’s shoulder, the fright melts away, leaving a beaming drunken smile. It’s really hard to be pissed off when he looks like a puppy whose owner just came home. Seungkwan looks around to see what interrupted his lecture to find you staring inquisitively, to which he just rolls his eyes before settling back in his seat, diving into the heated exchange between Jeonghan and Chan.

Mingyu throws an arm around the back of your chair after you settle next to him. His fingertips trace the peak of skin next to the strap of your tank top, raising goosebumps and evaporating the rigidness in your posture immediately. Damn him.

“Missed you.” He mumbles close to your ear.

This time your eye roll is obvious. Mingyu thinks you're being playful but you remember how he was pinned to the bar only a few minutes ago and steam is threatening to pour out your ears again.

“Seems like you had decent company.” Your words are pointed and the way his eyes grow wide and his smile drops almost makes you feel guilty.

“Yerin?” He furrows his brows, “She was nice but not really my type.”

“Pretty girls aren’t your type?”

“Not when they aren’t you.” 

The smirk on his face is lazy and confident. Knowing Mingyu, he’d high five himself if he was less trashed. 

A cough covers what suspiciously sounds like a snort on the other side of his seat where Seungkwan is.

You bite your tongue against the scoff in the back of your throat. Mingyu’s got balls, you’ll give him that. But if he thinks he can flirt with you right after letting someone feel him up where everyone can see then he has another thing coming.

“You think I’m pretty, Gyu?” Your voice is sickeningly sweet, encouraging Mingyu to fall into your trap.

You turn towards him, letting your eyelids lower and lips pout. One of your hands drops to his thigh as you twist to see him better. It's exactly what Yerin was doing to him earlier but you can immediately tell that he is much more receptive to your antics than he was to hers.

The shock on Mingyu’s face makes you wish for a camera. It’s an effort to keep from laughing when his jaw falls open as his gaze follows the pattern your hand traces on his knee. You’ve never touched him like this before, but if this is how he reacts you’re more than happy to continue.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “The prettiest.”

You hum in acknowledgement. Mingyu is free flowing with compliments whether he’s drunk or sober but it always leaves you breathless. 

“Prettier than Yerin?” It’s petty but you’re feeling the shots you downed and logical thought isn’t your priority.

His face has moved into the crook of your neck, chin resting gently on your collarbone, sigh ruffling your hair as he gets cozy in the warm space and allows his nose to trace the curve of your shoulder.

“Absolutely.” His lips tracing the word on your skin makes you shiver.

“Then why’d you spend all night talking to her instead of me?”

Disappointment seeps into your voice; as much as you deny it, he’s hurt your feelings and wounded your pride.

“I—,” Mingyu swallows.

“Hmm?” You’re being mean but he started it.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” you coo in his ear. “Looked like you were having fun.”

“Have more fun with you.” He’s stuttering, flustered at how easily the words slip from between his lips.

“Where’d she go anyway?” You turn your head to locate her but she's nowhere to be seen.

“Don’t know,” Mingy rasps, mind focusing more on the way your nails tickle the inside of his knee through the fabric of his jeans than your questions. “Don’t care.”

“Don’t be mean.” You chide.

“I really don’t though.” 

“Well, Jihyo and I were thinking about heading out.” You feign a yawn. “It’s late.”

At the sound of your threat, Mingyu is immediately up out of your neck and staring at you with puppy eyes. 

“But you just sat down!” He pouts.

“I’ve been here for hours.” You mirror his expression. “I’m tired, Gyu.”

“I haven’t gotten to talk to you all night!”

Hook.

“Maybe you can talk to Yerin again.” You smile with venom in your eyes.

Line.

The shock on Mingyu’s face informs you that he is now realizing how much he fucked up. 

Sinker.

“Bye, Gyu.” You coo sweetly, giving his thigh one last squeeze.

Jihyo watched the entire scene play out much to her own horror. She’s ready to go the second you stand, preparing the lecture of a lifetime once you're on the way home. But the shit eating grin on your face makes her proud.

What you two don't see is Seungkwan leaning over to whisper a “told you so” in Mingyu’s directions as they both watch you walk towards the exit and into the night.

#svthub #kim mingyu #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #svt imagines #svt fluff #seventeen fic #svt fanfic #svt x reader #🫡 highvern #dghe couple

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

i absolutely fell in LOVE with your price fic holy shit. your writing is spectacular. then i read your request info and saw that you love keegan as well and my soul left my body.

So this is me requesting a keegan x reader fic bc i love this underrated man SO much!! maybe some enemies to lovers where one of them gets injured in the field and, thinking they're dying, a teary desperate confession ensues? lol im not good with prompts i just wanna see my man 🤧 thanks in advance i love ur work

(Don't) Go to War

Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

Synopsis: Some days it became impossible not to lose your tempers with each other. Being enemies was easier than admitting you cared.

Word Count: 12.3k

Warnings: Angst, enemies to lovers, blood & gore, vulgar language, fluff & comfort eventually, suggestive (just a tiny bit)

A/N: Just a few more requests to get done, and then my inbox should be open again. I'm thinking I might do an independent Gaz fic too...but idk yet. Enjoy, Love!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Some days it became impossible not to yell at him.

“I had the shot, Keegan!” Your voice carries over the hull of C-23 Sherpa, and you didn’t bother to stay strapped into your seat as the aircraft levels out around you. Thrusting your body up, your feet slam to the floor as you stalk over to the silent man who watches you with burning blue eyes, “If you hadn’t gotten in the way the target would be six feet under by now!” 

Your face was twisted with rage, and a need for justice laced your brain like an inextinguishable blaze of fire. 

Keegan and you had a violent streak of not getting along - to the point where Elias was close to separating the two of you permanently. It wasn’t entirely your fault, the man just got on your nerves when he acted like he could boss you around. No Man’s Land was your playground; you knew the trails, where to take shelter when needed, and what towns and backroads to avoid because of Federation occupation. You spent most of your time beyond the walls of Fort Santa Monica just like Keegan and the other Ghosts did – he had no right to lecture you out here. 

He had no right to fuck up the mission.

“Kid,” The man in question warns, his form tense from where it leans against the wall. Around the two of you, the aircraft shakes from turbulence. Keegan’s eyes narrowed to slits, and behind the cloth over his face you see his lips thin dangerously, “I’d be careful what you say next.” 

“Oh, shut the hell up!” You growl. The dirt and blood sticking to your skin makes you want to scratch at yourself with blunt nails; rip away the grime. Stomping up to Keegan you stand directly in front of him, a sneer heavy on your lips. Your body is shaking with adrenaline, “You have no right to tell me that. I worked my ass off getting that intel on Vidal Teo for months just for you to mess up my shot in no less than three seconds. What the fuck?!” 

Keegan’s dead eyes glare from behind the stain of his black eye paint, the custom balaclava shifting as his hidden face moves. Over his arms, his fingers tense and tighten; a pulsing atmosphere begins to perforate the hull. The already strained rope was snapping.

Vidal Teo was a high-ranking commander for the Federation soldiers stationed in a large portion of No Man’s Land. He was instrumental in leading the frontal assault on the Fort – which had been getting steadily worse as the years went on. Vidal was a man marked for death, and your bullet had his name carved into the silver grooves. 

He was yours. 

“I don’t like your tone, Princess,” Keegan hisses down at you, but his intimidation tactics don’t work. He was large, sure, with a gargantuan build that made your shoulders square, but the anger in your blood pumped with vengeance, “I’m in command of the mission, don’t go mixing it around. You listen to me.”

“Not when Teo was right fucking in front of me,” Your head whips to the side, hands clenched as you point a single finger into the man’s chest. The two of you were so close you could feel his gear brush against yours when he breathed. Inside your form, your pulse sings, “If you hadn't fired that shot all of this would have been finished. Now,” You lower your voice as his enraged eyes bore into you, “He’s off in the damn wind. We’ll never get an opportunity like that again.” 

“Back up.” Keegan stands straighter, arms falling to his sides, and at that moment a sliver of hesitance makes its way into your heart as his shadow looms over you, “Now. Before you do something you’ll regret.”

Clenching your jaw, your finger falls. No matter how pissed off you were at the Ghost, one thing he said was right. Keegan was in control of this mission – technically he was your superior at the moment. You should listen to him. 

Listen? Your eyes flash, Like he listened to me? I told him to not fire while I lined my scope up…Why the hell did he do that?

“The sooner you’re out of my life,” Growling, you stare deep into Keegan’s eyes and only slightly shiver at the intensity. You could feel his breath coming out in strained puffs, wafting over your face, “The better. This is on you…All of my goddamn work down the drain…” 

Jerking back as you grumble the last sentence under your breath, you storm past the Ghost’s stone-still figure and enter the cockpit, feeling his locked gaze on you the entire time. You slam the door shut, only serving to make the pilots snap their attention to you, mouths slack and optics wide.

“What?” You growl, glaring and practically releasing steam out of your ears. Damn that man and his stupidly handsome face…What?

The pilots quickly stutter back to their controls, backs straight, and heads forward. 

Blinking, you scrunch your lips; your sense coming back to you as your shoulders deflate. 

“Fuck,” Grumbling, you bring your hands up and place them on top of your head, lacing the fingers together as your elbows stick out. You glance remorsefully at the two stiff profiles, “Sorry, boys. Long day.” 

Elias was going to lecture you again. 

He always did when you and Keegan got into fights – they were becoming more and more recent in the past few months. From common disagreements about misplaced knives or weapons to full-blown yelling matches over accidents on missions, the recurring bouts of thrown words never seemed to end. 

You were so incredibly sick of it. 

Why were you always fighting with him? Why did every action strike you in the heart like a blade? You were always tense around Keegan, sending sharp glances at him every time he was in the vicinity and sharper words a second later. He did the same in return, it wasn’t like this was one-sided. The man was determined to push every button in the book, and damn it if you didn’t do that as well. 

Keegan was a man on a high horse; arrogant, hard-headed, rude, and held authority like a stick you could beat someone over the head with. He demanded utter perfection. 

Sighing violently, you lean back against the door and shove your palms into your eye sockets; head tilting back to rest on the cool metal and soothe the growing headache.

The problem was, most of the time the man was right when he told you something – whether work-related or not. 

“Tango to the left – weapons hot.”

“Contact Scarecrow, Exfil in five. We have a group just above the pharmacy building.”

“West, Kid. Snipers scope, take ‘em down.”

No Man’s Land was supposed to be your playground and all of a sudden some other kid comes along; starts throwing rocks at the equipment with a damn painted balaclava over his face. You didn’t want someone telling you how to do your job. 

Frowning, your teeth nash in annoyance. 

This flight back to Santa Monica couldn't end soon enough, and now you had months of Recon intel sitting in your office to throw into the trash.

—

You grabbed at the pinned-up files with paper-cut fingertips, looking over the contents before frowning. Tossing them to the side, your ears twitch at the flopping sound of them flying into the garbage bin at your feet. 

The bulletin board was bare of all the red yarn, maps, and intel that you had once hung up with pride. Vidal Teo was gone, and just so the board was once more empty. It was hard not to feel cheated, angry, but maybe a part of you felt emptiness as well. 

All of that work… just for one shot to mess it up. And the bullet wasn’t even from your own gun. 

“I swear,” You whisper, itching at your nose, “If I ever get up on a team with him again…” 

Trailing off, your legs shift and carry you to your desk where you throw yourself down into the chair. Thoughts of Keegan made your brain race, mind going to try and understand why. Even if you didn’t like the man, at least on the surface, you still respected him. 

So, why? None of it made sense. Why fire off into the city at an unidentified target and send Teo rushing for cover? Why not explain to you what had happened when you were back on the plane? If he had made a mistake and admitted that, you would have accepted it… eventually, of course, but you still would have accepted it regardless. You would have had to.

Licking your lips, you tap your knuckles onto the metal of your desk, playing a long-forgotten tune. You never heard the door open.

“Heard the Op didn’t go as planned, but at least the two of you didn’t kill each other. I’d have a helluva a lot of paperwork to do if you put a bullet in his ass,” Sitting up straighter your head snaps to the open doorway, seeing the stocky stature of Thomas Merrick with his arms crossed over his chest, “Still, though, heard ya’ nearly made those pilots piss their pants when you yelled at ‘em.”

“Merrick,” You groan out, tipping your head past the chair’s backing, your neck digging into the wood, “You’re acting like I try to be a bitch.” 

“Are you not,” When you glare at him, the man’s dark eyebrow raises slightly, “Because you’re failing at it – often. Elias’s at the end of his rope with you two.”

Grumbling, your nose scrunches, lips pulling back in a small snarl. 

“It’s not my fault. Keegan hates me just the same.” 

“That any excuse to yell at a superior?” Merrick sighs, shaking his bald head and walking forward, “Thought I trained you better than that?” 

Your eyes flicker to his own, but seeing the blatant disappointment in them, you find it better to look at the empty bulletin board. Swallowing stiffly, your feet shuffle on the floor. 

“Look at all my work, Thomas,” Shoving yourself to your feet, you walk to the small garbage bin and pick it up; holding it aloft, you watch the Ghost’s Field Officer's lips thin. There was a mass amount of wasted paper, pictures, and yarn that caught his eye. You go and slam it onto your desk, hearing the clatter as the pencil holder falls to its side, “Wasted. Because of one man’s actions – how many people are going to die now because I couldn’t make the shot? Ten, twenty, thirty…?” 

“Kid–” Merrick begins, but you cut him off – still angry at Keegan and trying to strangle down the guilt of pushing it onto Thomas.

“If you don’t mind, Merrick, I have a shit-ton of reports to sign and no time to do them,” Once more flopping back into your chair, you rub your hands over your face and feel the skin pull. If you were anyone other than yourself, you would be getting a reprimand for interrupting a superior like that but Merrick was something of a friend to you. 

Closing your eyes, you let the darkness behind your lids flood you as you take a deep breath. 

The Ghost leaves after a moment without noise or a sound of encouragement, but that was just how he was. You feel his dark eyes on you, lingering, before he closes the door behind him and stalks away. 

Finally left alone in silence, you let your thoughts run to try and answer the age-old question that ravaged your mind.

“What happened to make us like this?” You whisper, hands falling to your lap as you stare off into the distance with blank eyes. 

You had never given it much thought – sometimes people just didn’t like each other. Ingrained enemies written into the annals of time and cursed to forever be at each other's throats like rabid animals. But then you realized that this wasn’t high school and you were an adult living in a fucked up world full of death and war. Coworkers no longer had the privilege to talk shit about the other behind their backs or not communicate their problems; being out in No Man’s Land forced people to compromise and work together like a well-oiled machine. 

And well-oiled was not the way to describe yours and Keegan's relationship…more like a run-down and rusty car that screams every time you turn the key; practically begging someone to put it out of its misery. 

Blinking, you realize, perhaps for the first time, how much of a problem this predicament with Keegan really was. 

This could kill us both.

All of this began, you knew, a long time back, and, as it usually did, it had started out beyond the Fort before bleeding back into the ramshackle place you called home. The both of you were enemies far longer than you had been friends.

Your body was hot, sweat dripping down your temple and slipping the expanse of your chin, but still, you stood outside Elias Walker’s door with a tense jaw; fingers itching to rip into Keegan’s flesh. They were speaking inside, their voices hushed as your boots pooled mud and dirt onto the floor like a brand. 

“She…went over the ridge?” Elias asks, voice deep, “And she’s alive?”

“Hm,” Keegan makes a savage noise in the back of his throat, and you have to hide your panting breaths to hear it. The damn bastard was always so silent any sound would perk your ears, even if they were ringing with reverberations of spent bullets.

“Then I don’t exactly see what the problem is, Keegan.”

A pause.

“...She’s impulsive. Combative. Doesn’t listen,” There was an inhaled breath, and you feel your face burn at the profound gravel-toned words, lungs making your chest tighten as they zip closed as a bag would. But those next comments make you growl in the back of your throat, rage like fire in your heart, “I don’t want her. Kid’ll get the people she’s placed with killed if she’s allowed to do that again!”

A sigh through the shocked silence. 

“Then what do you suggest I do? She’s a valuable asset, I can’t just ground her – the Recon work she does is vital to finding Federation strongholds.”

“I don’t care what you do with her, Elias. Just keep her far away from me and the boys. Kid’s not my problem. Never want her to be again.”

Whatever harsh words are uttered next are lost to you, because your legs are already carrying you down the corridor with brimming tears stuck in the corners of your eyes. 

It was more the way he said it than the contents of the clipped sentences. Like you were less than him, pathetic, and unworthy. Nothing more than a rookie holding a gun and parading off into the wilderness to have a good time. That was what wrecked you.

The next time you saw Keegan it was only narrowed glances and clenched fists; terse words. When you snapped at him for the first time, you swear his eyes slightly widened, cold blue one second then boiling bright the next.

You liked that look on him – shocked into a different type of silence. A type of anger you could meet head-on.

Fighting with Keegan soon became too addicting to ignore, a constant activity that never changed like the destroyed world always did. A failsafe at the end of the day. 

 The anger had never dimmed, infecting you like a poisoned worm stuck in your veins and weaseling its way to your heart. It had only grown the longer you let it sit, and at the end of the day, you festered over the image of the Ghost’s face with his eyes digging into your skin. You stayed awake at night mulling over the arguments, taking the insults and words like bullet wounds to your heart with barely restrained tears; feeling guilty because you threw some back as well. 

But what hurt you the most was that, before the hushed meeting in Elias’s office, you had looked up to him. To Keegan. Perhaps you had even enjoyed his quiet company at one point when the loneliness of No Man’s Land got to you. The terrain was incredibly quiet in between the violent hails of gunfire and, on occasion, it would make paranoia infect your bones like a cancer; producing shaking limbs and tense fingers. When Keegan was with you…you hated to admit this, but he made the silence better. More survivable compared to when you were alone doing Recon with only a gun and a combat knife as deadly companions. 

Your narrowed lids flicker to the trash bin on the desk. 

There was still a small pinch of anger – resentment for the waste and for words spoken in haste – but your mind pulsed to find an explanation. A reason. 

There must be a reason that Keegan would fire off a shot into the city prematurely…obviously it was to hit a target, but why? And why hadn’t he told you the reason? 

I’m gonna rip my head apart if I keep thinking this over, You warn yourself, huffing under your breath. 

You had reports to write up – tell of your failure to kill Vidal Teo and how many lives that will ultimately cost in the future. While you were stuck with a pen in your hand, scribbling away even as the sun had set outside, you had no idea of the stare-down going on in Elias’s office one floor up.

—

Elias’s eyes are sharp, a wave of dark anger deep in the iris as he stands with his arms crossed behind his desk, “Why’d you fire?”

Keegan's feet are shoulder length apart and his arms are clenched behind his back, spine straight; a deep tension lives in the thick air, bearing down weight on the men. The Ghost was still in his gear, the balaclava and black face paint in all its glory situated over his head. That was his best form of armor, allowing him to hide the deep sneer over his cruelly scared lips. 

“Tango. Off in the next building,” Keegan’s voice was low, harsh, and cut to a point. He didn’t want to be there – there were many more important things to be done than getting a lecture like a five-year-old. 

His sniper rifle needed cleaning, rookies needed to be disciplined, and the treadmills were calling his name. He had to work off all the bullshit in his head.

“The Girl had the shot. Vidal Teo needed to die, Russ – she knew that well enough. I want an explanation as to why a high-priority target is still up and walking.” 

The silent beast of a man keeps his body still, even if his head is pounding. Hot adrenaline was still in his veins from how you were yelling at him in the Sherpa, the memory of your rage-twisted face burning into the back of his eyes. He had never seen you that angry before; shaking with the need to release your displeasure onto him. It had slightly taken him aback. 

Fighting with you was predictable. You’d both throw insults, get into each other's faces and cruelly break down each other's psyche piece by piece – the man knew what to say and where the unspoken line was just as you did. Fighting was easier than admitting there was something deeper going on, something that you two were hesitant to even speak of. 

But, hell, you had never gotten that upset at him previously. And, problem was, even if he wanted to deny it, Keegan knew he fucked up. Bad. 

There wasn’t a way in hell that he was going to tell you that, though. He wasn’t going to tell you that his finger had moved before his mind could, pulling down on the hair-trigger of his prized rifle like a fucking novice. Even now self-resentment was worming into him.

He had never felt that to this degree before. He didn’t like it – couldn’t afford to acknowledge it.

What gave you the right to provoke those emotions from him? Maybe I need to ask to have her transferred. Brat’s messin’ with my head.

“Miscalculation. Won’t happen again.” His feet shuffle, boots shifting silently over the floor like that of his title. Miscalculation – he doesn’t make those. Never had after ODIN hit the US. There wasn’t any room for them. 

Keegan was a master of taking lives with a swift movement and a pull of a trigger; no one had ever known him to be reckless. 

They had you for that.

Elias narrowed his eyes, head tilting, as a tightness is seen rippling through his jaw, “You’re going to have to lie better than that, Son.”

Keegan stilled, dead eyes boring into the other man’s. The sharp blue deepens, darkens. His shoulders set themselves, but the ingrained looseness is still there if someone looks close enough and spies it. Instinct is hard to fight. 

“Elias?” He asks from behind the fabric of his face covering but utters no more. 

Keegan was a man of few words – very few. Actions served him better, but in this room, there was no point to them. Walker was his superior; his Captain, but more so the closest thing to a brother Keegan would ever have. There wasn’t a choice in this, even if the men had gone through hell together as Ghosts. 

“Don’t play me for a fool, Keegan,” The graying man mutters out, shaking his head and going to rest his hands on the top of his desk, “I’ve known you a long time. You don’t fuck up something like this. Never have. So don’t insult me with that half-assed answer.” 

Elias pauses, sighing when Keegan just stares at him with blank, black-laced, hard eyes. The man was a damn empty slate, never moving, never giving away anything to betray his emotions.  

“I want a full report on my desk in a week. I’m sure the Kid’ll have hers done in a day, but I want you to explain yourself. In detail. You hear?”

“Copy.” 

“Dismissed.”

Keegan turns and leaves without another word, just a burning in his gut and a righteous sense of surety in his bloodstream. Your face slashes over his vision as he exits the room, he closes the door behind him and thumps down the halls. People move out of his way quickly, sending glances with pupils so tiny they practically disappear altogether; Keegan knew he was intimidating, especially with all his gear and smelling like gunpowder and blood. Didn’t bother him much. 

It seemed like it didn’t bother you either, judging by how you were in his face screaming all the time. 

Damn brat, Keegan thinks, itching at his nose bridge and sending stiff glances at the rows and rows of closed doors and windows, She doesn’t know anything.

Before long his feet had carried him down corners and hallways as his head pounded, and it wasn’t a surprise that when he shook himself out of his trance the entire make-up of the floors and walls had changed. 

Wait…where was he? 

His pace slows to a stop, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. Where had he ended up while his mind was running at the thought of you? This had never happened before – the Ghost’s head was all out of sorts if he was talking walks around the Fort without a destination. Every action of his had a purpose, why was that now becoming anything less than fact? 

Annoyance plagued him.

Sliding his eyes around, a certain office window catches his viper-like attention. It was the only one with a light still on, warm rays shining out into the hallway, and the shuffling of paper and manila folders flowing to his ears. The door was only minutely ajar, a sliver, and nothing more. About to turn around and leave the area, Keegan halts at the sound of a familiar voice grumbling. His heart jerks.

Blue eyes narrow, and that annoyance at himself grows to find an external outlet.

The hell is this Kid doin’ up so late? Doesn’t she know when lights out is? Fuck, looks like she can’t follow simple guidelines either.

With shuffling feet, he takes a step forward and has every intention to bust down the door and force you to the barracks; lecturing you on the importance of rest when he suddenly realizes something.

Why does he care if you get a good night's sleep? 

Growling under his breath, he happens to get a glimpse of a moving shadow through the window that gives him pause with one gloved hand on the woodgrain of the door. If possible, he feels his body completely stop at the scene; his eyes flickering into a widened look. 

And what was that tightening in his chest?

You were staring at the hung-up bulletin board, having dragged your desk chair over and situated it right in front of the bare rectangle that once held an innumerable amount of papers and information. 

Keegan had seen it himself right before the mission had started. Your eyes lit up when you could tell him everything you knew about the target from his schedule to what he ate in the mornings.

Eggs with a protein bar. Two cups of milk.

You had gathered all of that info yourself – countless trips into Federation-occupied territory that left you coming back with bruises and deep lacerations. Keegan knew; he had watched you limping back through the gate with a shielded look in his eyes. But now the board was blank and useless, holding nothing but your knowledge that it was once filled with your labors. 

The Ghost’s hand on the door loosens, and he takes a slow inhalation of breath as your tired eyes get glossy. When had you gotten those bags under your eyes? Keegan’s lips pull thin behind his balaclava. Had…had you always looked that tired? 

Had you both really been fighting so much that he had stopped noticing the most basic parts of you that he had watched so closely before?

“I had it…” Keegan’s shoulders tense when he hears you speak, but he doesn’t move. A needle of guilt moved to dig deeper. Your hopeless sigh leaves him gritting his teeth, “Fuck.” 

Digging your palms into your eyes, he watches you shake, limbs tense and hunched over nearly into a ball. He has the sudden urge to push the door open, not to scold you but to simply stand by your side. Tell you the truth. 

Keegan’s eyebrows pull together, gaze flicking away from you so his brain can focus. But it was like a magnet was stuck behind his optics because it wasn’t long before his eyes flowed back to the small figure. 

He stays there for a good while, watching, with a weighted chest and pounding heart. Keegan couldn’t really say what he was thinking about, but all of it certainly involved you. So why couldn’t he open the door?

When your head jerks back up, his eyes widen, body swiftly moving back. 

By the time you look out the office window, his shadow is already disappearing down the hallway. 

—

You nearly lose your cool when Elias tells you Keegan was accompanying you out into No Man’s Land once more. The bags under your eyes burned – weeks had passed since the fight, and you had gotten little sleep since then. 

“Teo was sighted by one of the drones near an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of San Francisco. I want you and Keegan on the trail, and, hopefully,” Elias mutters as Merrick and Ajax listen in the background. Your apparent partner stands behind you, leaning back on the wall with his arms crossed, “We can put this to rest.”

Standing rail-straight, your face is twisted but you keep yourself under control. Even being in the same room with Keegan made you want to lash out. At your sides, your hands slowly clench into tight fists, and behind you, a sharp gaze digs its claws into your skull.

He’s watching you. Studying like he always does when he thinks you don’t notice. 

“Sir,” You answer the older Ghosts blankly, lips stiff, “If you think that’s best.” 

“I do,” Merrick raises a brow behind Elias, and you pretend not to notice as Ajax’s shoulders shake, “That going to be a problem?”

Ironically, Keegan and you both answer at the same time, a strangling silence before a snarled, “No, Sir.” 

The pair of you shipped out in thirty minutes, but neither of you bothered to look at the other as you gathered supplies in the armory; grabbing magazine after magazine and strapping knives to thighs, arms padded with thick clothes and heavy black combat vests. Keegan was applying his face paint despite the dark color already stained into his eye sockets. You doubted it could come off anymore – the skin was probably so damaged by the chemicals it was pointless to try. Like some brutal birthmark. He slipped the balaclava over soon after.

The fabric covered the dark hair and strong jaw, slightly marred with stubble – long scars that grew harsher when his skin twisted; the angled lips below a sharp nose that had captured your attention the first time you had seen them. Keegan was undoubtedly handsome, carved from stone and silver – the remnants of that artistry only now glimpsed in his eyes as a cold reminder. It was funny, you thought, that someone so beautiful could be such an ass. You watched him, terse-like, and grabbed a revolver hanging from the rack, shoving it into your thigh holster. 

He was acting off. 

Keegan was more silent than he usually was; at this point, he would at least make a quick quip about your annoying habit of packing extra ration bars in your front pouch. 

‘Gonna weigh you down, Kid, if you stuff one more of those damn things into your vest.’

But the more you sneaked glances, the more your feet started to shuffle in unease. The Ghost wouldn’t even look at you. 

“You sick or something?” Your voice carries, echoing off the walls as you tighten the vest strap on your side. You had never bothered to be subtle when talking to the man – he appreciated bluntness, and that was one thing you could get behind. 

“No,” Keegan slips past, suddenly colder than ever before, and disappears without another word. 

Watching his back shift as he strides off, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and perhaps a bit of shock. 

What the hell was that? You ask yourself, hands falling to your sides where they twitch. Keegan was damn confusing, but he had never been outright numb like that to you besides when you both first met. Your resentment flares in your breast, but with a shake of your head, you force it down. That wouldn’t help anyone, and you still wanted answers. 

If this was how Keegan wanted to be then fine, you’d just have to ask Elias for his report when you got back and figure out for yourself why he had ruined the previous mission. 

You grabbed a canteen of water and shuffled out the door, flicking off the light with a heavy finger and followed after the Ghost’s footsteps; dreading the Op but feeling your pulse beat at the thought of nabbing Teo once and for all. 

This was ending. Today. 

—

The aircraft landed just far enough away to be unseen by Federation soldiers and on the line of being annoyingly distant from the target. The hike would be through mountainous terrain – the land ravaged by the remnants of ODIN’s destruction and just beginning to heal. On top of steep cliffs, and sharp rocks, there would also be rampaging streams and thick foliage. Speaking from experience, you knew it was going to be a sweat-inducing mission…and that was before you got to the main point of it all. 

Both of you disappear into the treeline after the pilot tells you the future Evac Point, hoofing it at a jog into the shadows and blending in like animals. Under your feet, the leaves crush, telling stories of where you placed your weight as the packs over your body jump with every jerk forward. Keegan takes the lead, silently expecting you to follow as your eyes stare into his back. 

He still hadn’t talked to you. It made your skin crawl.

Watching his gait, you frown and clench your jaw. Why did it bother you so much? Wasn’t this what you wanted all along…for him to leave you alone? 

Sighing, you hop over a downed log, seeing Keegan quickly send a look behind him at your form before snapping his head forward. 

“There’s an old structure west of the Warehouse – a hunting lodge still standing from before ODIN was fired, I found it on one of my other Ops,” You call, moving faster to run side-by-side with the man. Dodging a tree, your tongue runs over your lips, “We should set up there – we’d have a clear shot.”

For a moment there was only the sound of shoved foliage, steady breaths, and clinking gear before Keegan replies. 

“Affirm.” 

He pulls ahead, and you’re left widely watching his shoulders, seeing the muscles under his attire ripple as they propel him faster away. Your eyelids narrow, a thin sneer flickering over your lips.

Keep your cool, You follow after, careful where you place your feet as the ground begins to ascend, If I get him in a good mood, maybe he’ll answer my questions later. 

It was easier said than done, of course, and although your efforts were valiant, none of your plans to get him to speak to you landed. The hike ended with panted breaths and a setting sun, mist seeping like snakes over the rocks under your feet; the world was quiet, and try as you might you found a deep sense of loneliness in that. The pair of you were on top of a ridge, surrounded by deep green and gray. No birds sang, and no animals trampled the land – it was just the harsh wind and the creak of stretching metal from far ahead. The occasional smell of dirt that left your nose full of particles and led to coughing fits.

Perhaps Keegan had the right idea for a face covering, even if it was never intended for the reason of keeping the elements out.

The Warehouse was near a crater, one of the places ODIN had struck directly into the Earth, and teetered on the edge of oblivion as it was half-falling apart and drenched in red rust. Occasionally, as a tremor rolled through, pieces of it would fall off and slam to the ground a million miles away, deep into the crust of what was left. 

Definitely a place for a safe house. No one would bother to look here unless you already knew about it or were hiding something.

Thinking to yourself, you rub the sweat off your nose with the back of your hand, eyes flickering to the hole in the Earth with shielded disgust. It had been over ten years, but the horror was still there. All of those innocent people… 

“Here,” The smooth voice startles you, but your attention diverts quickly to the man at your side. His hands hold out a red cloth in his first and second fingers and pointedly avoids sneaking a peak at your shocked expression. Your mouth opens and closes, optics bouncing back and forth between the gift and the strange Ghost. 

You could hear a pin drop if you had one to throw.

“The fuck are you doing?” 

“Your stench is going to alert the guards – wipe yourself off. I need to repeat myself, Princess?” With an unamused face, you snatch the textile and rub it over your heated skin, reveling in the dismissal of layers of salt. 

“Asshole,” You mutter, “You better not have used this before me; if I get acne I’m shaving your head in your sleep and siccing Riley on you.” 

“Sounds fun. Better make sure I’m dead by the end of it.”

“Trust me, I will. I’ll make sure to chuck your body from the Fort wall, too,” Sliding past him, you toss the cloth at his chest, “Hunting lodge is this way.” 

You get so close your shoulders lightly brush, and although you hate the implications, the action leaves your chest tight as you inhale his scent of blood and shrill chemicals. Clenching your jaw, you don’t take in the way his warmth floods your veins or the cold gaze that follows your back as you walk away; briefly softening around the edges like a blunt blade before being sharpened once more under stone and rock.

Hearing his feet lightly caress the ground behind you, you let out a slow breath, shoving away a branch of a low tree and peeping back. Keegan's gaze locks on your own as if he was waiting for this, and you curse not being able to see his expression – but it wasn’t like that would give away anything either. The Ghost was blank, much like the bulletin board had been when you ripped your work from it.

Raising a dark brow, the man grunts under his breath in question as his large shadow leeks over your form. 

“Nothin,’” You mutter and turn back, fixing the strap of your rifle and side step a piece of cut wood, looking like it was the remains of a windowsill that had been broken during the shockwave and flung from a house, “Thanks for the rag. Even if it did smell like Gun Oil.”

Blinking down at the forgotten object, your arms push through one more set of fauna and huff when you lay eyes on the run-down lodge that would be Base Camp. Rushing up the decaying steps, you push the paint-peeing door open and throw your hands out.

“And here we are,” Walking with acute familiarity into the one-room area, “Home sweet home,” You nod your head to the left, where a large window gives a clear view of the Warehouse down below, “We’ll take the shot from over there, but…here…where did I…?” 

Stumbling to a stop, you take one step back and ignore the narrowed eyes on your back.

“The hell you looking for, Kid?” 

“Shh,” You snap your fingers at a loose board near a broken-down TV stand, “There we go!” Jogging over, you place your foot on one end of the board and grab the now-propped-up opposite side with a heavy hand. Like a teeter-totter. 

Tossing the wood away, you grab the stash you had hidden years ago and hold it aloft near your head as you turn around.

Keegan watches with small eyes, head tilted, and feeling a bit curious about where this was going. What were you holding in your hand…? Was that…?

“Chocolate bars? I thought those were under strict ration laws?” His booted feet carry him closer to you and the plastic bag holding three bars of the old treat, “Damn, Kid.” 

The man didn’t ask how you knew they were there – at least, yet – but he had an idea. You had logged more hours outside than anyone else besides the Ghosts, and with your affinity to keep to your own, it was only common sense that you had stashes all over California.

“Special occasion,” You mutter, opening the bag and tossing him one. Of course, he catches it, flipping it over in his hands and rubbing a thumb over the wrapper. Keegan’s eyes filter back to yours slowly, and under him, his feet shuffle to shift his weight. 

“Y’know these things are probably older than Fort Santa Monica, right? It’ll give you gut rot.”

“God, I hope so,” You rip the wrapper open and snap off a piece as you hear crinkling from the other bar being opened; you toss yours into your mouth and smirk, “Maybe Ajax’ll finally lend me his alcohol stash to help me out for once. Bastard keeps making excuses.”

The bar was a bit stale if you were being honest, but it was still chocolate in your books. Stuffing the rest of it in your side pocket, you slip the rifle from around your back and head to the window, with the butt of the gun you raise it up and bring it down. A corner of the glass shatters into a million pieces, falling to the ground outside like tiny stars and reflecting the dying light. 

Far below, miles away, the Warehouse seems dead to the world, but your and Keegan’s trained eyes spy the microscopic shadows in the rust-strangled metal walls, slipping past like rats over the holes and windows. 

“Visual?” The man next to you asks, pulling back down his balaclava, and your ears twitch as you gaze through your scope; watching with perfected focus. Pulling back with a grunt, you flip the gun and rest the barrel against the wall, sighing.

“Negative. There won’t be until the sun sets fully,” Keegan turns to look down at you, and the fabric around his mouth shifts into a frown. You raise a brow and explain, not needing him to ask his question, “I‘ve tracked this guy like a teenager on the internet who has a crush. I know his routine. When the sun sets he checks the perimeter with two of his guards, Fabián Julieta and Santos Rosa – I have reason to believe they’re his cousins, but it’s never been confirmed.”

“You sure he’ll do that?” Keegan scoffs, looking back out and tapping his fingers over his thigh holster, “There was just an attempt on his life. Not exactly the time to follow procedure.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to leave it to fate. Plus,” You can’t help but mutter, “We wouldn’t have been in this situation if you hadn’t messed up.”

The air thickens.

Keegan’s body stills, frozen like his bones had just been covered in frost and doused in frigid waters. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch with bated breath. But he notices the trap, it seems, because his neck never enters the snare laid out. The tension that had lived over you both like a dark cloud suddenly gained lighting, quick flashes of light over the sky.

“It’ll be too dark by then,” Is his only response – even if it’s clipped and growled out like a man ready to snap. He wanted to start an argument, you could tell with growing amusement. Keegan’s arms clench at his sides into shaking fists.

“Then it’s a good thing Ghosts can see in the dark,” You smirk, tilting your head to the side and beginning to reach for the rest of the chocolate bar resting in your pocket, “Isn’t that right? Make sure not to freak out and fire at the birds–!” 

The hand latches onto your shoulder before you can process the man had even moved; eyes widening to the size of plates as the pressure snaps your body to face forward. You let out a light yip as your feet drag. Despite the hold being firm, Keegan’s fingers never dig too tight.

Your eyes level on his, gazing deep into his boiling blues that shimmer the longer you stare. Had the middle always had flecks of green? Inside your chest, your heart pounds like a drum as, behind the balaclava, his jaw clenches. Keegan’s breath is like a breeze over your hair, rustling it. 

“Don’t…do that,” He says slowly. You just watch, wide-eyed, “Don’t speak on shit you have no idea about.” 

Whatever had made your lungs constrict fled in an instant.

“What?” Your lips twist, “You mind telling me how I’d have ‘no idea’ about an Op I was supposed to come back with a confirmation of death on?” 

You shove his arm off your shoulder and hate the way the chill of the air overtakes his warmth. 

Keegan’s shoulders set, “Kid, I’m ordering you to–”

“Cut the shit!” You yell, finger going to shove into his face and watching his head whip to it before wafting back to your visage. If possible his shoulders widen even farther, legs tense and straight. This was it – your confusion would go no further, you decided, “You’re going to explain all of this, Keegan–!” 

“Watch the damn volume–”

“Explain why I’m out here, why you messed up the mission–!”

“Listen to me. I need you to–”

“Why my fucking work was all wasted because you pulled the damn trigger and I’m reaping the consequences like an idiot with a guy who hates my guts–!”

“There was a sniper on the roof.”

Your rampage stops just as you were about to open your mouth once more. You stare at him at the bombshell, not even able to process it for a moment. Blinking, you realize you had moved Keegan backward so his back was pressed into the opposite wall; your body was pressed tightly up next to his. With every fast breath, you could feel your chest connect with his, and your finger was still against his peck, digging into the gear. 

Sucking in a quick breath, you gathered what little courage you had gained and looked up into his face with a fire lit in your blood. 

“...W-what?” Keegan’s body shifts and his arms go to grab your elbows. 

He doesn’t move you, just gives them a firm squeeze and explains as his heart pounds in his chest. Under the cloth, his mouth is slightly parted, and his pupils are wide.

“Federation sniper,” He utters, blinking as your face goes void of emotion, “I didn’t know if he’d seen you yet, but I…” 

The Ghost trails off as his thigh brushes yours, all of the pouches uncomfortable to feel digging into his skin, but worth it if he can make this right.

“Why…Why didn’t you tell me?” You whisper out, the skin of your eyebrows moving to press the tiny hairs closer together. This changed everything, “Why did you…?”

Keegan’s face is so close to yours that he can smell your shampoo through the dark fabric over his nose, suddenly suffocating on the comfort the covering usually brought him. Why was his heart racing in his chest? You were being irresponsible, yelling like that, and stubborn, hard-headed. 

But, damn, if anger wasn’t a good look on you. Your body heat was leaking into him, making him swallow heavily.

“Because…knew you’d blame yourself,” He said simply, staring at you deeply as your expression softens just as Keegan’s body does against the wall; you lean in deeper to his hold, “Just didn’t expect you to take it all so hard.”

“What? You just wanted me to let it go?” You utter, feeling and finally admitting how addicting it felt to be this close to him. For the life of you, you can’t find it in yourself to look away from him. What was happening?

“Again, didn’t know you’d take it so hard,” He raises a brow, grip falling from your elbows to lightly grab your hips. You force down a shiver, veins alight with molten lava at the strange contact. The Ghost continues, “Where’d you get the idea I hated you?”

Your throat swallows down saliva, not understanding the feeling in your gut. 

Shit, You think, Maybe that chocolate was bad – my head’s spinning…All I can smell is Keegan. But why am I not trying to leave?

Just a moment ago you were angry at him, but now everything made sense. A sniper, God, he could have just told you. It would have fixed a lot of things.

You mull over his question; do you answer it honestly? But for some odd reason, your mouth runs faster than your mind – it always had, and certainly always would. At least around Keegan, that is.

A breaking point had been reached, wherever you went from here was entirely up to the two of you.

“You said you didn’t want me,” The man’s breath stills, and you feel it just as you hear it; his scanning optics halt their study of your features, as if he had been seeing them for the first time in this light, “That I’d get people killed…why…why do you think I always work by myself nowadays?” Your nose begins to hurt, eyes falling to Keegan’s chest. You try to shove it down, but your hand over his vest shakes slightly. Where was this coming from? Why were you telling him this? The source of your animosity, how you two became, at least in your mind, enemies, “I just didn’t want to be a problem.”

Muttering out the last sentence, you swear Keegan’s chest hitches, heart kickstarting. 

“I…” He begins after a long moment of mutually avoiding eye contact. If you look into those beautifully cold blues you might break. 

But voices from below snap whatever the both of you would externally loathe but internally revel in; the longing in the two pairs of eyes is replaced by duty and unsaid words. The action was mechanical, and both parties rushed to the window, with your fingers grasping the rifle and Keegan grabbing the binoculars from his largest pouch. 

Like birds of prey, the two work in such sync that others would question if they even hated each other at all – and if they had seen the scene just moments prior the thoughts of denial would have been strengthened ten-fold. 

Did you hate Keegan? Or did you hate what he had done? Now really wasn’t the time to question it, but as the Ghost called out the distance and spotted Vidal Teo in pitch darkness, you can’t help but mutter, “Knew you could see in the dark, Kee,” And lined up the shot. 

Your finger pulls the trigger with little more than a second thought, and your shoulder catches the recoil with a grunt leaving your lips. 

“Direct hit. Target down,” A soft hand squeezes your shoulder as you watch the body drop from the scope. Grim satisfaction breeds in your heart. Your eye roves to Keegan’s face, who nods his head at you, “It was a good shot, Princess.”

Face heating, all you do is scoff, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, well…I suppose you called it.”

“Really, you can’t just take the compliment?“

“Do you want me to beat you over the head with this rifle?”

You both stand up and send coded glances to the other, and where the backhanded comments would usually be hostile, the small differences in presentation lean more toward teasing than anything. 

It was…nice. Foreign, but nice.

Chuckling, you toss the rifle around your back and listen to panicked voices echoing out from the warehouse. Keegan still stands near the window, with his back to it, while you inch to the door and itch at the back of your neck. He stares at you strangely, no doubt thinking about what you had confessed prior.

He had no idea you had heard the conversation with Elias. The Ghost’s chest constricts, remembering the words he had said in concern and anger. Had you really heard all of it? That would explain the sudden cold attitude that was mirrored back to him all those months ago.

Damn, Keegan blinks, and his head tilts as you stare back at him with a questioning expression. Your face was innocent with sweaty flesh filled with dust and grime. His fingers itched to wipe away the slash of black dirt from your forehead and, against his will, his stone blue softened to water in his eye sockets.

Your lips twitch at the rare expression. You had a lot to talk about when you both get back to base. 

“We should get going before–” 

Glass shatters, and a loud pop like an opening soda can startles you so bad you swore your heart stopped. Two things happen in that instance that will be ingrained into your head forever, carved like a scar in the fine tissue and tender to the touch.

One, his blood splattered your face, making you blink rapidly and reel back.

Two, the sound of Keegan’s hitting the floor – deadweight – and the loud gasp that exits his mouth, all the air expelled from his lungs not allowing him to even scream.

“Keegan!” You yell, rushing over and grabbing onto his shoulders, flipping him over with a grunt and panicked breath as you brush away the crimson from your eye sockets with a fast hand, “Shit!”

His body slams once more to the old wood, this time his back now on the floor. Blood pools down from a gunshot wound over his right abdomen, and your eyes land on it immediately, lungs struggling to suck down air.

Below you, Keegan lets out a wheezing sound, arm coming half-up to clench in the space above him, shaking violently. 

“Fucken’...” The man gasps, and his body jerks, trying to move despite the hole in his side. Your fingers rip open your medical pouch, eyes darting back to the window. You lightly stand up, frantic eyes darting and freezing. Spying a glint of light reflected from the moon, you quickly dip back to the floor.

Sniper scope. 

Rushing to grab Keegan under the shoulders, he yells out curses as you drag him to the side and out of the line of sight of the window. Tearing out a rag and a roll of gauze from your stash, you look at his face as you shove the cloth against the leaking wound, bunching the fabric and working it into the crater. 

Keegan snarls, head going back to slam to the floor as his eyes flutter. Those blues of his were wide and whizzing back and forth in a primal display, and behind the balaclava, you could see his throat bob with strangled, open-mouthed, breaths. Fuck, fuck, fuck…!

“Hey!” You shout, bringing up one hand and lightly slapping his cheek as you lean your body weight into his side. Your heart was going too fast, it was going to break out of your chest if you didn’t get a grip. But…Keegan’s blood was staining your hands; leaking down your face to drip from your chin. And the fact remained that the Federation soldiers now knew your position and were rushing to the dilapidated lodge. You needed to get him out of here, “Keep your damn eyes open – the only person who gets to kill you is me!”

“What…what the fuck, Princess?”

“You heard me!” Your body was shaking just as much as Keegans as you gnash your teeth together, “‘Doesn’t listen,’ my ass, your ears work less than mine do.” 

You’re panicking; using born and breed sarcasm and clipped words to ease you back into focus.

You had to move him – had to get him out of here. But would you be able to? He was big; far larger than you and weighed twice as much in muscle alone, not to mention the gear... Your mind did the math even as you pleaded with it not to. 

He would have to help you on his own if this was going to work. And that meant keeping him conscious.

Keegan lets out a loud cough, and your fingers itch to move his face-covering so he can breathe better. But you unravel the gauze instead, going to shift his body to wrap it around the rag – holding it in place. 

“Gotta’ move,” He snarls at you, trying to keep the pain at bay as it sweeps over him like waves of water, in and out, in and out.

“Working on it.” 

Right as you tie off a tight knot on the already bloody wrappings, the Ghost tries to get up, an arm turning to slam to the floor behind him and vibrate as he forces his weight on it. Knowing that was a bad idea but not having another choice, you loop one of his arms over your shoulders and grunt. Bearing the brunt of his weight you hold your breath and angle your feet; shoving with all of your strength and gasping out. 

“What the hell do you eat, man? Rocks?” As you grip with your free hand at his limp wrist, you take a quick glance at Keegan when you don’t hear a response. When he’s up, one of your hands goes to wrap around his waist. 

The man’s eyes were fluttering fast, pupils retracted in pain. The blood leaking from him stains your body as you hike his form closer to you, feeling the warmth of the flesh enter your skin like a candle’s flame. 

“Keegan!” You call, shaking his body. The man lets out a low groan, sharp eyes snapping to yours. You're taken aback when you see them immediately soften as they land on your panic-laced form, “You’ve gotta help me, okay?”

Speaking slowly, you hope he listens as he blinks at the blood on your face, eyebrows tensing.

“Copy,” He mutters and sends about the closest he can to a stiff nod your way. 

Immediately all weight is taken from your hold and he stumbles to stand up straight, a hand snapping to his side as his feet drag.

“Not all of it! Idiot!” Growling, you rip him back to you, hissing in disapproval as he lets out a deep curse; nearly falling into you. Forcing him forward, you go as fast as you’re able to the entrance door and already a sheen of exertion is falling over your face. How the hell is he so heavy?

“Fuckin’ confusing, Kid…Just tell me what you– what you want, I’m bleeding out here,” Keegan barks, annoyance falling from him onto you. Was it really that impossible for the two of you to get along that you were fighting while he was seeping crimson all over you? You were getting along just a second ago.

“You’re impossible, Keegan Russ,” You lock onto him in the corner of your eye as you practically drag him to the door, shoving it open with your shoulder. Your fingers dig into his side and his wrist, trying not to get distracted by the strong muscle you feel writhing under your touch. Without meaning to, your grip had gravitated under his shirt, touching bare skin littered with scars and burns – hot and pulsing with life.

Your grip goes deeper, nails creating crescent moons in his flesh as you, somehow, get him down the stairs without falling flat on your face.

Did he just shiver?

“Evac point,” Muttering to yourself, you move faster, heart beating as shouts echo out over the hills, “Shit.”

“Focus,” Keegan utters to your side, “Don’t think about it. What…what’ll happen will happen.”

“Bullshit,” You growl and glance back to see the trail of blood over the ground. Shaking your head you stumble into the treeline, mouth open to help you suck down more air into your lungs, “If you expect me to believe that, you’re a fool.”

“..Maybe,” He coughs, and you have to pause for a moment and look in concern as dark phlegm splatters to the ground. No, you think, no not yet. He can’t do this to you, “Maybe I have been.”

“What,” You attempt a wet chuckle, not liking the conversation but if it kept him awake you would entertain it, “It only took you taking a shot to the side to realize that? There’s no hope for you, Kee.”

“Like when you call me that,” Lips thinning, you work your legs faster, dodging a rock and shimmying past a tree, “Sounds nice.” 

Your face heats at the shock-induced confession, breath inhaled in a sharp breath. 

You look at him, only to find his eyes already locked on your visage. The unrelenting optics ripped you open with how lucid they looked, even if his mouth seemed to have lost its filter. Taking it as a good sign, you tear your head back to the front, biting into your lips as your legs shake.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” You whisper, clearing your throat as Keegan lets out a small strangled sound from the back of his mouth as you stumble over a log on the ground, “But keep talking to me, yeah?”

“I don’t hate you,” He confessed with a soft voice, “...Was jus’ worried you would hurt yourself. Too hard-headed for your own good.”

“Could say the same thing about you,” Your lungs are burning, but you remind yourself it’s not even half as much pain as Keegan is going through. He carries himself so well, even holding some of his own weight to help you. How was he even still standing? If you had gotten shot like that, you’d be screaming your head off.

He’s a Ghost, You remind yourself, They defy all laws of nature and common sense.

“I’m sorry, Kid,” That makes you stop, body halting halfway through a step as your face blanks, panting out air and eyes popping out at the weak words, “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

Swallowing down saliva into your dry throat, your mind tells you to keep moving. The meeting in Elias’s office…he was…he was apologizing to you? Stuttering only a moment, you resume your break-neck journey with a burning face and jumping heart. 

“Apology not accepted,” You growl, sending a sharp glance his way. Keegan’s eyes widen in surprise – but they look slightly buggy, “When we get back to the Fort, you’re saying it again…When you’re not getting me all covered in your fluids.”

The chuckle he lets out startles you, but you resist the urge to bring him even closer to your form and bask in his heat. He was…nice to feel against you, you admitted. Strong. Comforting in a rabid dog sort of way.

“Yeah, but you’d like…like that wouldn’t you, Princess?”

…Did he just..? When your jaw drops in shock, he lets out another gasping chuckle that divulges into a coughing fit. Getting your bearing back, you roll your eyes above the embarrassment in your blood even as your lower body pulses. Your legs shuffle as your breath goes thin.

“Let’s keep the dirty jokes under wraps, too, okay?... Who knew blood loss made you into a fucking comedian? Mr. Stand-Up over here.”

“Hm,” Keegan grunts, wheezing in a breath. You watch a dribble of blood fall from the side of his mouth with a grim face, mind running. 

He can’t die, You shake with nerves and adrenaline, I won’t let him. 

There was a brimming affection for the man you had been forcing down like a mouthful of food, and his drunk honestly right now was throwing you for a loop.

“I’ll get you to the Evac point, Keegan, I promise,” The shouts were getting closer, and the Ghost’s eyes were falling closed once more. 

You wanted to see his face – make him stare at you.

“Know you will,” His eyes clenched closed and you felt his weight fall more over you. Groaning breathily, you take it and continue onward with little concern for how your nerves tingle, “Y’know,” The next words he says are so muffled you barely hear them, but when your brain processes the gravel and sifts through the depth of it, you feel tears wet the sides of your vision, “I think I a-actually like you, Kid.”

Keegan goes slack, and the sounds of shouting grow ever closer. It takes everything in you not to scream out.

—

He wakes up with a buzzing in his ears and a bright light assaulting his eyes. It takes Keegan a good while to fully open his eyelids, flinching as the bulbs set into the ceiling seem to only get more violent as his senses come back to him. 

A groan exits his lips, and the scent of bleach and sterile air makes his head rove on the hard pillow under it.

“Well,” A masculine voice results in Keegan jolting up like he was hit with an electrical current, body spasming at him to stay still but not able to stop the ingrained instincts in his head, “Took you long enough. Ajax was just about losing his mind for one of you two to wake up. Had to order him to go run laps.”

“Merrick,” Keegan clenches his hands in pain, but his eyes fall to the man sitting in one of the visitor chairs at the door. The Medical Ward's familiar walls soon entered his sight, and ignoring the flair of agony in his bandaged side, the dark-haired man brought a hand to his face. Keegan takes a deep breath and flinches, “Explain.”

“What happened,” Standing, the stocky man cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders before glancing down to his side. Merrick points over Keegan's shoulder and nods his head, “Is that the girl dragged your limp ass all the way to the Evac point with a bullet wound in ‘er shoulder. Took out a few soldiers as well – one helluva hot exit.”

Sneaking a peak back, Keegan was stunned to find a matching hospital bed not a few feet from his own, a rack for a curtain drawn back to allow a view of a woman asleep; her right arm was in a sling and heavily bandaged, the covers pulled back to her midsection. You. His eyes stay locked on your form, momentarily forgetting the pulling of sutures in his side. 

You had…gotten shot. Protecting him.

“How bad,” His lips move faster than his head, a trait he was beginning to pick up and associate with only you.

“You needed to go into surgery–”

“Not me,” Keegan growled, itching at the gown that had been put on him. His eyes never left you, the peaceful expression on your face he had never seen before leaving a warm feeling in his gut. With a sigh, he mutters out with a tone far softer than it had been before, “Her.”

Merrick smirks, watching the rise and fall of your chest and seeing Keegan doing the same, just far more closely. 

“Prescribed pain meds and on leave for two months. It was a clean shot – lucky for her.”

Keegan nods his head stiffly, moving the pillows up on the elevated mattress and leaning back with a throaty groan. 

“I’ll go tell Elias you’re awake,” Merrick swiftly turns and opens the door, but pauses in the opening. The other man watches closely with a frown. Without turning around, Thomas utters, “Kid was pretty shook up when you wouldn’t come ‘round. You should fix that.”

The Ghost disappears and closes the door behind him. 

Blinking at the wooden barrier, Keegan wastes no time in pushing back the covers of his bed and pressing his feet to the floor; hissing at the chill but only running a hand through his hair in retaliation. His dark eyes watched you as he gritted his teeth at the strain in his side, the faint ripping of stitches. 

The pain didn’t bother him, didn’t sway his actions. His socked feet move over the floor to stand above you. He breathes slowly, sucking down cool air as he pauses for a minute or two.

“You’re something else, Kid,” Keegan whispers, cold eyes narrowing as his thumb goes to swipe away the dirt smudge on your forehead with delicate movements. He didn’t want to wake you. 

The mirror across the room shows a beast of a man carefully cleaning the face of a woman who murmurs to herself, shifting closer to the hold with a small sigh. Keegan, whose lips quirk in a small smile that pulls at scars and black, irreversible, face paint, finds the warmth in his blood addicting. His heart slowly speeds up, and although crimson was staining his bandages, he couldn’t find it in him to go back to bed. 

“If you keep doing that,” Your voice snaps him out of his stupor, and his hand is snatched back to his side in an instant; feet shoulder length apart and tense, “I just might die on you.”

The light above you plays in your eyes, bouncing off the color and reflecting it directly into Keegan’s iris as the skin of your eyelids peel back. You blink up at him, vision coming back into focus as you stretch your legs out under the covers. 

Sending a small smile to his blank face, you chuckle, “What?” You groan, “I was being sarcastic.”

A smirk is all you get, a slight twitching at the side of his lips at the fatigue in your tone.

“How long?” Keegan asks, raising a dark brow. Knowing what he’s asking, you scoff, face bright.

“Only about five minutes. I caught the end of Merricks conversation,” You reply.

“Hm.”

“Don’t give me that look – I’m in the room, what do you want me to do…not listen? Tch,” Your hand presses into the mattress, shoving you up. 

A hand splays over your back immediately to help. 

Goosebumps litter your arms as Keegan’s grip lightly digs into your gown, assisting you where your other arm can’t. Sparing him a glance, you watch with heat on your ears and neck as his attention remains solely fixated on you. Blue breaks open your skin and infects you with its chill. Liking the feel of it, you let it in and embrace it. 

When you’re sitting up, silence ensues, with Keegan’s eyes studying your body as you do the same. His hand remained on your back. 

Does he remember what he said? You wonder, locking on the thick wrappings under the man’s gown with a frown, Or was he too out of it?

“Feelin’ alright, Princess?” Your eyebrows raise as he tilts his head.

“I should be asking you that.”

“We both got shot,” Keegan shoots back, and the black around his eyes creases as he deadpans at you.

“You passed out – I didn’t. Don’t blame me because you decided to take a nap, Big Guy.”

“So, you’re just full of nicknames now, are you?” 

“Hm,” You smirk, voice low and teasing, “Perhaps…Raccoon Eyes.”

Keegan scoffs, turning his head away in exasperation. You were both the same people from hours ago, but something felt different – the air was lighter, bordering on sacred. Looking at each other with hesitant vulnerability, hearts yearning but not quite certain where to begin. So many jagged pieces of glass to buffer out, smooth along the edges, and pray that they became mosaics of brightly colored perfection that glittered in the sunlight. But you could still slice your fingers open, despite the years of practice and knowledge of that sacred art, feel the blood splatter the table and leak into the fine lines of your palm.

But, perhaps, it was time to try. 

“I guess I owe you one,” You admit awkwardly, suddenly avoiding eye contact and feeling sheepish. This was new to you, “You saved me from a sniper but I couldn’t see the one behind you.”

“You owe me twice, then,” When you send him a scalding look, he puffs out a breath to show it was a joke and continues as you roll your eyes and smile softly, “..but, uh,” Keegan clears his throat, “Don’t…worry about it, Kid,” Your eyes snap to his side profile, blinking in shock as his eyes rove the room, watching the cracks in the floors as you gape at him. Why…why did he sound like that? Like the gravel in his words had smoothed over and was suddenly a paved road with moss along the edges; gentle to the touch. And why did your heart skip a beat at it, “Forget about it.” 

“...What?” Your voice is small, genuine confusion whispered out as you watch the muscles in his face move. Keegan’s jaw was clenched, his nose scrunching as he rolled it and fixed his stance. It was adorable the way he was trying not to face you.

His head turns to his gear that Merrick had placed on the large table across the room. You watch him lightly limp to it, mind still trying to think through what was going on. His shredded hand goes to the back pocket of his folded cargo pants, and your ears twitch at a crinkling nose. The Ghost pulls out an empty chocolate wrapper and you feel your heart stop all together when he holds it aloft. He shuffles back over. 

“It was alright, little stale, but not bad,” Those steel blue eyes slide to yours, and your face heats; throat tightens. Since when has your pulse rampaged like that outside of a gun battle? Keegan’s lips quirk into a slow smirk at your expression, “Not bad at all. I’m sorry that I ate it all.”

You have to look away before you pass out, all confidence now gone and dignity stomped on when you realized that you liked when he looked at you with those eyes of his. Your hand clenches over the covers, finding that double meaning with brimming affection.

Oh, you just hated him…but your breath still gets stolen all the same.

“Yeah, well,” Your hand goes to scratch at the back of your neck to ground yourself, “Don’t get used to it, Kee. That bar was worth like fifty bucks if we’d have just sold it.”

You decide his laugh is better than any old chocolate bar, and that you wanted to taste it on your tongue until the very sun died out. Until your bones were bleach white from age.

There was no doubt he remembered what he had told you as you dragged him along, scared and wishing he would stay awake; that was simply judging by the sparkle in his pupil and the way he was facing you now. 

Smirking, you raise a brow and grab the man by the collar of his gown. 

Ah, what the hell. Better to start strong.

When you smash his lips to yours, you decide right then and there when Keegan melts into you, his hand going to grip the back of his head, that maybe being enemies wasn’t so bad at all.

#keegan p russ #keegan russ #call of duty keegan #cod fandom #cod fanfic #cod #cod ghosts #cod keegan #keegan x reader #keegan russ x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #x female reader #female reader

[blushedarmybunny]

After his Shadow || Jeon Jungkook x Fem Reader

♡ Pairing: Athlete!Jeon Jungkook x fem reader

♡ Word count: 2.6 k

♡ Genre: Angst (m), toxic relationship.

♡ summary:

He is the most loved athlete in Korea, and you are just his girlfriend until after four years you decide to leave him and is the best and at the same time the worst thing you could have ever done.

♡ a/n: I hope you like it, anon that requested this piece i made it angsty bc that is the vibe i got, idk but I maybe write a part 2 please comment if you want.

PART 2 IT'S UP

There is no feeling to describe how dysfunctional your personal relationship with Jeon Jungkook is and how it casts so many shadows on your own personal demons. You can barely recognize yourself even when you are detoxicating from all the shit you had to put up in the past 4 years. After breaking up with him you supposed to feel free but instead a sense of dread crept out behind you every day leaving you with lack of sleep and shakings all over your body, or as they call it anxiety.

You’d been hiding from everyone, deep rooted in your grandfather lake house which you had the spare key, that’s where you had been laying in bed for the past week and a half, just answering your mom’s text and eating less to not have the necessity of going out for groceries. Yes, you were far from Korea but you know that they will find you, they always find you.

The press, the obsessive fans or just about anyone that follows up the sports stars in the world of football, because Jeon Jungkook is big, more than that he is a superstar well loved by the public especially, his fans. He is very young but also very talented and has too much fame and power to the point he is almost untouchable. In his own country he is almost a god, no Korean football player can dream to become as big as him, whenever he is outed somewhere the traffic literally stops while crowds of people gather following his pace, after all he is the team leader who brought South Korea their first world cup, his team mates were now globally famous because of this and after the absolute pandemonium that was taking the glory to his country Jeon Jungkook became an athlete legend.

Every girl would throw herself at his feet, so everyone was shocked when he publicly announced his relationship with you four years ago, you had no idea what were you doing back them, all you can do now is regret your naivety. You had some idea that your new boyfriend was wealthy but everything progressed fast, too fast, to realize the extend of his fame. You suddenly were kissing for the first time and next thing you know is him posting on his insta that you two are boyfriend and girlfriend and then it hit you. You blame yourself for not google him before accepting going out with him after a casual party in a bar, it was so stupid but not more than the face the press photographed the day after the post, you were cluelessly walking down the street trying to grab some coffee and then some people run to your side with cameras in their hands, flashing lights all over, such a confusing situation that you ran back to your apartment and demand explanations from him.

From there it was a wild ride, crazy calls from every person you knew, your 3-digit following account rising up to the six digits on the same day, Jungkook stopping by so casually that it must have raise an alarm inside you but it didn’t, it fucking didn’t.

So that brought your path to what is your life in this moments, a full grown women hiding under the blankets deleting every picture on her phone, dried eyes, no tears just dark circles and a undecipherable expression. Suddenly you came across a blurry picture from way back, cheeks fuller and a bubbly smile, it was cute at the moment but the people had tore apart every single detail of your face that you can’t  longer find anything nice about that moment of your life. That’s why you didn’t bother to check any of your socials, the aftermath of the breakup was too ugly and you were the villain, you were always the villain.

Because Jeon Jungkook was Korea’s national treasure, not only nationals but his fans all over the world would defend him before anything and anyone, fame was a weapon that could be used against you and he realized that very soon into the relationship, you did something that made him upset? He can post some pathetic tweets leaving some hints. You try to push back from his ‘love’ and ‘protection’? he misses goals at an important match and points out to press after that he has been feeling ‘emotionally unstable’. God forbids you ask to take some time from the relationship because he would cancel a match making a social media circus and you being guilt tripped and publicly shamed back to him.

All of that just to everyday being gaslighted by everyone in how lucky you truly are for being his girlfriend, it was a sick joke.

“And what the fuck is this? Are you out of your fucking mind, Yn?” Jungkook yelled at you while he showed you a picture of you in your best friend’s boyfriend birthday, you had know him since uni, your best friend and him were engaged, you had known him for so many years that you greeted him with a hug  and that was exactly what you were doing in the picture, but the angle, oh that damn angle made you look like you were kissing each other.

“You tell me you are in a trip with your friends and this is what you fucking do? I look like the biggest fool in the news!” Jungkook sentenced while you look at him with concern.

“I was just hugging him!” you fight back, his eyes made an imponent statement at your direction.

“Why are you hugging another man? How is that proper, tell me?” his ironic tone made an echo through your head.

“You really baffle me, I hugged him because he is my friend and because I wanted to? Who you think you are to control me?” you snapped back at his rhetoric but he didn’t seem pleased at your response.

“You rub your tits in another man’s chest and when I don’t like that you are the one who gets mad? You truly are something…” Jungkook scoffed  “Can you see that you and your so called ‘friend’ is making me look bad?”

“This is so fucking tiring, what are we exactly discussing here? I told you I was hugging a friend end of conversation”

“Is that so? You don’t care then? When people laugh in my face and later call you a slut?” Jungkook said bitterly, he was mocking you, because he knew how things worked in his world.

“You know this is exactly why I think we don’t make sense, you seem to take pleasure in making me doubt myself and making everyone dislike me!” you can feel the tears wanting to come out but have to be strong.

“You need to know your place, Yn, you know you are in the wrong when the crowd it’s calling you out, if they are calling you a slut then…”

You hit him across his face, it was no use because your strength could not really hurt him, but it did caught his attention.

“it’s not fair, and never will be, they are on your side always and you know that!” you exclaimed clenching your teeth, Jungkook at the sight of your frustration he smiled.

“that’s right it’s not fair, knowing that information and you still dare to slap me? Don’t you know my next match is in two hours I have to leave this apartment in a few minutes and when they see the pictures leaving this apartment upset, a mark on my cheek and later a low performance on the match, what they will think of you?” Jungkook asked still smiling, you gasped in horror.

“Yeah exactly, now apologize to me and I will consider to put a mask when I go outside” there he  was being in control again, he had you cornered, he made you small.

“I’m sorry” you murmured, his hands grabbed your face making you look up to him, his eyes scanning yours, he leaned over and kissed your lips, you move your move lazily corresponding to his more passionate kiss.

“That’s right, baby, I know you are sorry”

You rolled over bed and kept deleting all you could, the memory has left you with a bitter taste in the mouth that quickly made you nauseous you run into the bathroom to throw up, while you wash up you look at your pathetic reflection in the mirror the same pathetic expression of that time when you actually tried to left him thanks to his very public indiscretion.

The aftermath of all that mess is threatening you with a head ache but the mind still goes to that specific place.

“How dare you, huh?! You bark at any man that glances at my direction but you go to a fucking yacht party kissing every model on sight!” you throw the tabloid at his face, he looks up with his big doe eyes, parting his mouth like he was just exposed without any warning, he blinked a few times perplexed “You pathetic scum I should had neve-“

“I know you are mad” he simply said and you can feel your eye twitching in disbelief. “Can you calm down a bit”

“Calm down?!”

“Look I’m sorry okay, it won’t happen again it was a stupid mistake” he brushed off the whole situation like it was nothing and you were starting to lose it.

“Mistake? Are you fucking kidding me? There are videos, Jungkook, you seem pretty fucking chill while those bitches are sitting on your lab…”

“Yn…”

“Then you kissed them like it was the most fucking natural thing to do…”

“Oh my god, stop, it’s not that big of a deal, I apologized!”

“And you expect me to accept it?”

“Those girls nobody knows them, but you are my girlfriend, aren’t you?” he asked with an irritated expression.

“I don’t understand you, Jungkook, I really don’t, let’s just break up that way you can kiss all the models you want” you responded completely tired of his bullshit.

“You are still mad, I see” he said standing up and walking towards you.

“Don’t go near me!” you warned him but he keeps coming close until he is in front of you then he takes your hips and pulls you down while he takes a seat in the couch, you end up in his thigh.

“I know baby, you must be angry” said affirming you in his leg, you were only wearing a skirt so your underwear was the only barrier against his muscular thigh, you got nervous. “You don’t have anything to be jealous about, you want this don’t you? You saw me in the video doing this and now you want me to take you in that way?” he asked looking at your eyes and your lip trembling he grabbed your hips and move you hitting that precious spot making you pant.

“that’s right baby” Jungkook said an erection forming in his shorts “I know you want to move” he said to you with a cheeky smile you closed your eyes and nodded you felt how he spank you with dry sound, the wetness now lubricating Jungkook’s thigh, he always looked good in uniform.

“how do you call me?” he asked while pulling up his shirt showing his abs and taking out his growing cock jerking it a few times, he spanked your ass once again when you didn’t respond.

“…Daddy” you managed to say between moans, now fully moving your hips in his thigh while he jerks up, you did not last much longer and while you had your orgasm the grin that Jungkook gave you was enough to sink you after your high, back into humiliation.

“You fucking slut, ugh you’re so hot” he said between his heavy pants, his seed spilled all over his abdomen soon enough when you were washing up in the shower, he turned you over to wash your hair with shampoo then he suddenly whispered in your ear:

“While I’m right here taking care of you I still can’t bother to remember those girls names or faces” he said while he continued to massage your head “ you have nothing to worry about” you closed your eyes trying to believe in his words, that’s all you wanted in that moment.

Your stomach growled screaming for food, you walked to the kitchen making the laziest thing you could and swallowing it, then back to bed, that has been your routine the past week, you felt disappointed in yourself, at the end of the day that’s what Jungkook has done to you, he left you so empty.

Because of both of your natures your relationship continued to be unstable and the public was right there to enjoy the circus, every single time.

It didn’t matter how many more indiscretions Jungkook had, the media crucified you no matter what, not attending to his matches was more than enough to enrage his crazy fans. You didn’t have the basic right to be mad whenever he doesn’t do his part.

Jungkook just likes to take and take from you, his jealousy was a problem but his cheating was not.

His sexual needs mattered but your emotional needs were ignored. He acted like the perfect boyfriend in public just to treat you like you don’t exist every time his friends call him on the weekends.

Being in a relationship with Jeon Jungkook was a state of constant confusion. And it all did not make any sense on why he kept insisting in continuing the relationship, he would do anything, get mad, act upset to the public, put at risk an important match, even cry whenever you tried to bring up your need of wanting out, but with his actions Jungkook has made very clear he wasn’t done toying with you, and you had no say on it.

At the end you hit the bottom after four years of this so called ‘relationship’ and once you snapped back out of your submission you did not look back. Took your stuff and while he was busy in another freaky party in Japan, you flew back home taking serious steps into going incognito. Yes, Jungkook called you like a thousand times but nothing that a block can’t resolve. You announced him your break up  in a letter that you send him via text before blocking him, then you made it public via twitter simply putting:

Jungkook and I are not in a relationship anymore, please respect my privacy.

And after that you had been trying to hide from the rest of the world, you had a vague notion of how the rest of world reacted at least in the first days, Jungkook fought with a photographer outside of a bar completely drunk, he made very alarming tweets, it was all over the news, but you did not know the details or bother to dig deeper, his fans almost throwing a celebration party but at the same time blaming you for everything wrong that is happening to Jungkook.

You did not judge yourself on how you ended things with him either, you were kinda running away, but it was the best option in where he didn’t get to manipulate you or black mail you.

At the end of the day you were the only person who can pick yourself up from the ground, and make whatever you want your life to be, and with Jungkook out of the way, who can stop you?

There is only one way up, right?

#jungkook x reader #athlete! jungkook #bts x reader #bts imagines #jeon jungkook #jungkook bts #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts fic #bts jk #jungkook angst #angst jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts smut #bts fanfic

[snowfolly]

So, awful thought time, but what if Cazador’s first command of Astarion was to fill in the grave that he had just dug himself out of?

(More under the cut bc it’s sad.)

Astarion’s horrified, dizzy, filthy, sprawled out on the ground and staring up at this dark figure seeming to tower above him. He’s realized that he now has fangs and a confusing and horrible lust for blood, he’s starving and it’s a ravenous, terrifying hunger like he’s never experienced in all of his life. Gods…he knew the deal that he made with Cazador would result in him becoming a vampire but this was all too much.

He’s bleeding the rest of his mortal blood from wounds and broken claws, spitting out dirt after busting forth from his coffin and digging through six feet of earth, and he can feel pain and adrenaline but only the faintest heart beat. He knows it should be cold outside but he can’t feel that either, at least not like he could before he had… died.

Cazador gives him that shitty speech about what Astarion, as a spawn, can and cannot do… what he must do for, well, eternity. Astarion didn’t realize any of this was part of the deal, but he was dying when he agreed to it… and the consequences of his choice was becoming more and more real and horrendous.

And then the first command he simply can’t disobey is to fill in his own grave so that no one suspects vampirism as the entire body is gone,* because Cazador can’t have people coming out searching for Astarion, that just wouldn’t do.

So this poor traumatized man has to shove dirt into this fucking hole with bleeding, shaking hands because he literally can not disobey his master’s first of countless dehumanizing orders.

(So I was going to write smut but then this came to my mind so oh well. 🥲)

*(idk if body thieving for operating theaters is a thing in this world yet but let’s pretend not lol)

#sad astarion musings #astarion headcanons #bg3 #astarion #snowyrambles

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

Ok ok, so imagine, your a spider person on a mission with Miguel, and you’re trying to glean some info from a big gang lord, like, let’s say someone like Kingpin, and just as you’re about to leave with a copy of the goober with the info on it, you hear someone coming (since you would have a spider sense and he doesn’t) and you shove him into the tiny utilities closet and follow after him. But because you shoved him so suddenly and the closet is so tiny and he’s so *Big*, you’re struggling to find a comfortable enough spot, so you keep wriggling and shifting trying to get comfortable and he’s hissing at you to stop moving, and you ignore him, obvs, bc “It’s not my fault you’re absolutely huge” and so you keep trying to find your spot when he suddenly places a hand on your hip, squeezing it tightly as he hisses through clenched teeth in a strained voice “Stop moving” and you’re about to turn to see what’s wrong when you feel the reason for why he wants you to stop moving against you🫣

~Love, Evie

I'm so sorry this took so long! This prompt is so *chef's kiss* Thank you, Evie!!

Your head perked up.

Nervous eyes traveled left, face following as you tried to glean any idea as to how screwed you would be and when.

Three, men probably, six meters down the hallway to the left.

I can work with that.

Taking a moment, you scanned the space around you, vision zeroing in on the first exit you could find. You grabbed your partner's wrist, ignoring his surprised curse as you shoved the door open before shoving Miguel inside and following after.

"What the hell?" he snarled, eyes narrowing when you actually had the gall wave off his question in a 'shut up' motion.

Voices slithered under the glowing crack, just enough for you to hear the essence of a conversation, something about a few co-workers going out for drinks later on. They grew closer and faded away just as quickly.

You nodded your head to the left, a voiceless gesture of 'told you so,' that only earned you a small huff of annoyance.

Despite Miguel's prominent dislike of your carefree persona, he always seemed to assign you as a team for jobs like this.

And, sure, while it could be irritating to believe he didn't trust in your abilities, you also weren't exactly fond of sneaking into Fisk Tower all by yourself, much less bypassing the amount of cyber security no person had a right having.

Besides, he definitely wasn't hard to look at.

But he definitely didn't need to know that.

He also didn't need to know how close the two of you were to getting caught with a big old manila folder containing important information concerning the biggest crime organization in New York.

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness, but the fracture of light flooding over your feet seemed to be enough.

Some kind of utilities closet, filled to the brim with cleaning supplies that didn't leave too much room for anything else, especially two fully-grown spider-people.

Boxes stacked Jenga style threatened to fall over with one shove too far towards the right. The corner of one was poking your thigh, pointed tip leaving a harsh indent in the fabric of your suit.

Shuffling around, you tore off your mask in an attempt to draw in some fresh air, watching Miguel do the same. Dark waves curled around a perfectly-sculpted face, irked features fully on display.

The slant of his eyebrows drew downward as he watched you shimmy around, attempting to find some semblance of comfort in this tiny space. "Do you know how to stay still?"

"It's not my fault you're so huge," the tip of a broom was now pushing into your lower back. "What kind of milk did you drink growing up?"

"Ha."

"I'm serious! '6'9 isn't that tall,' my ass," With a groan you shoved away the stick, just for it to fall back down and smack against your temple.

The room felt unbearably hot with his body pressed up against yours. You shifted, trying to create space between you and failing terribly.

"Stop moving," Miguel hissed through clenched teeth.

A few more complaints about your innability to stay immobile were ignored.

At least, until you felt a firm hand grabbing your hip, squeezing the skin and forcing your gaze upward. A snide remark was about to fall from your lips, stolen only away by the pure shock you felt at the object prodding into your lower abdomen.

Your breath stopped.

"I, uh-"

"Don't." Miguel ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "The last thing I want is a snarky ass comment from down there when this is your fault."

"My fault? How the fuck is this my fault?" You huffed, arms folding as your brain processed the rest of his comment. "Wait, what do you mean 'down there-'"

"Can't you just shut your mouth for a few minutes?"

His sharp tone had your eyes rolling in annoyance, mind buzzing with another unwarranted reply that came out much too quickly for you to give any thought.

"Make me."

The silence that followed was much too deafening for the small space.

Scarlet irises simmered in the darkness. They bored into yours in a way that had you silently yearning to press yourself further into the nonexistent space behind you.

His gaze traveled to your lips and your breath hitched, a shiver running down your spine as you imagined how they would feel pushed against yours.

"Let's get back."

The statement ripped you from your thoughts, eyes lowering in embarrassment while the man in front you began messing with the gadget on his wrist.

It was totally unprofessional to assume-

"Put the folder in the filing room and come straight back to my office." He glanced up from the watch to meet your gaze. "Do you understand?"

You blinked, heart beating against the walls of your chest in excitement. The bewildered expression earned a subtle smirk from his direction.

Miguel leaned down, free hand clasping the end of your chin and lifting your face in an uncharacteristic gentleness. "Got a problem with that?"

With a swallow, you shook your head. "Nope."

He pulled away and a collage of shaded colors filled the unlit room, the entryway to the Spiderverse beckoning you forward.

"Perfect."

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv #miguel x reader

[raayllum]

a/n: bc king atticus (ez's grandfather) invited claudia to sit on the throne and i haven't stopped thinking about it

The first time Claudia sits on her throne as queen—after the spat they'd had about her having one (that Ez had won)—and settles, dress rustling by her feet, she laughs.

Ezran quirks a brow. They've been married for under a month, and while he knows her quite well (she's been his high mage for quite some time, and his partner the past year and a half), well... Claudia never quite stops surprising him. It's one of the reasons he loves her.

"What?" he asks at last.

"Nothing." She goes to hide her smile with her hand, eyes strangely dewy. "I assumed I'd think more of my father, but... I'm thinking of yours—your father's father."

Ezran's brow furrows deeper. "King Atticus?"

It's been twenty-five years since he passed away, only knowing Ezran about six months. Ez has no memory of him—even Callum doesn't have much—and unlike with their mother, there's no melancholy there. Harrow had been determined to be a better king than his father; it seems to run in the family. (One day, the children he and Claudia have will want to surpass them. It seems fair.)

"Mmhm." Claudia tucks her black hair behind her ears, more trailing down her shoulders. She looks so pretty like this it's almost hard to concentrate (newlywed bliss, as Soren would say). "He invited me up on his throne when I got in trouble for doing dark magic. I even offered to fix it for him because it was so uncomfortable. A child's pride, huh?"

Ezran steps closer, leaning over and resting his hand over hers on one of the throne's arm rest. "Most children are too well meaning to be prideful, don't you think?"

She brightens a little, the mistiness fading from her eyes. "Maybe."

"You've always wanted to help people," he says, squeezing her hand. "And that's what you'll be able to do as queen." He kisses her forehead right below her crown and then pulls back, smiling gently. "How does the throne feel? Comfortable?"

Claudia's lips twitch. Her gaze is steady when it meets his and he knows she means it. "Just about."

#claudiez #my fic #ficlet #headcanons #crack canon quartet #after the war #fic #puzzle house #queen claudia is something that can be so personal to me

[lowkeyrobin]

OMG I've had this idea for a while but fuckshit x shy turned confident reader where they're in the same class but fuckshit doesn't really notices reader until reader starts dressing for themself and does things they want to do instead of letting people walk all over them and fuckshit starts developing a crush and starts seeing reader everywhere !!! Thank you love you robinnnn <33

-♠️

STOP I LOVE THIS WTF ♣️ dw I saw the other thing ik its u bae ; love you too freakazoid ; thanks for requesting pookieeee hope u enjoy

FUCKSHIT ; confidence

summary ; fuckshit develops a crush on the new you

warnings ; language, censored racial slur, weed

disclaimers ; fuckshits real name is gonna be olan (like the actor himself) as much as I don't like it that much it's the best bet + I don't wanna make up some random name for him 😭🙏 it's just bc ain't no teacher is gonna call him fuckshit and stuff ; also I do censor the n word one bc I'm not black, two it's how ray and fuckshit talk, it's not overused or anything, I'm just not trying to whitewash their speech and mannerisms and them reclaiming that word is kinda important for them because they're black skaters in the 90s so 🙏

word count ; 1k

masterlist

You used to cover yourself up a lot, even during summer. Sweaters and long sweatpants and jeans paired with hightop Converse were your usual outfits, even in the blazing LA heat.

You skated here and there, not at any parks or popular spots, just around. You shared a class with Olan, or Fuckshit as he likes to be called, at school. You had 12th period history with him, where he sat next to you.

You were very shy and reserved, you never talked to anyone unless spoken to and spent your time in the back of the class just getting through your work. Every so often, Fuckshit would try to talk to you to little or no avail. He never really noticed you much in the hallway or any other class either, so he didn't have any other way to talk to or see you through the day.

He didn't know much about you, which is why he also didn't know much about how you'd let people walk over, use, and bully you. He'd defended you in class once, but that was the extent of it. He wasn't a bully whatsoever, a fuckboy, yeah, but he wouldn't make fun of you for some dumb reason like the way you dress or the way you bite your nails.

But, now, he couldn't help but stare at you.

He could finally see your gorgeous eyes again, your smile proving that you were much happier this way. You seemed so excited and confident. He even noticed you in the hallway talking to someone with a smile on your face.

He had to say something.

"Oh, shit, like your shirt. Gravediggaz is fire." He smiles.

You return said smile. "Oh, thanks! You listen?"

"Hell yeah, n****"

He sees the kids who usually made fun of you snicker and whisper a few feet away, but pays them no mind. You follow his gaze and get a quick look before rolling your eyes and turning back to him.

"Fucking annoying" You say, placing a finger gun to your temple. "You skate, right?"

"Yeah, why? You trynna hang?"

"Maybe" You chuckle and shrug, "Going to the courthouse, just wanna show off some tricks at that party. Wanna come with me? You'd make it way less embarrassing"

"Yeah, of course" He grins, "Mind if I bring my boys along?"

"Oh, please. The more the merrier" You nod, "I'll be under the left tree at six, yeah?"

"Yeah"

Safe to say he couldn't wait to talk to you later considering he wouldn't shut the fuck up about it. Ray had been making fun of him all afternoon while Fourthgrade filmed it all, Ruben's laughter prominent in the background.

He was basically bouncing off the walls as the minutes ticked away, time coming closer and closer as to when he'd see you again.

"Put your dick away"

"Shut the fuck up! I'm just excited"

"Yeah, excited alright"

"I swear to God-"

He basically sprinted out the door when it hit 5:50, leaving the others in the dirt as he skated down the sidewalk as fast as humanly possible.

He saw you waving for him as he entered, and he quickly walked towards you with a smile and a blunt in his hand.

"Hey" He smiles, offering you said blunt.

You take it and blow a puff out of it, "Hey, glad you made it. Where's your friends?"

He looks over to the side, waving to a group of boys who were clearly trying to look for him. The three nod and talk toward you two, talking about something you couldn't hear.

You wave to them as they approach and sit with you, joining the conversation about everything skate and music related. As the sun sets, the area illuminated by white and colorful neon lights, you get up onto the building, top of the stairs, to show off some tricks. You see Fuckshit and his friends watching you, along with many other strangers who were watching other skaters show their shit off.

You grind down the metal railing and hop off with a kickflip. You glance over at the curly haired blonde, who's shouting some inaudible compliments. You see his one friend, tall and blonde, filming with a Camcorder. You didn't mind, you thought it was pretty sick.

The youngest out of them, maybe fourteen or so, hands a blunt to the dark-skinned boy with the locs, both of their eyes on you, like they're scanning your high-school coolness level or something.

"Ayeee, that was sick as fuck!"

"Olan, is there something you need to share with the class?"

Fuckshit's eyes slightly widen as he slowly looks up at the teacher who'd caught you two whispering in the back of class.

"Nah, I'm good"

The teacher turns back to the board as you two quietly smile and snicker.

He can't help but get lost in your happiness, feeling comfort in your sneaky smile. He can't help but adore everything about you, from your humor to your skating, your music interests, it was like you were made for him.

The bell rings, nearly popping your eardrums once more as it dismisses you for the day. You walk side by side through the halls, taking the longest way through the school to go toward the front doors to leave.

"I just don't understand being a poser like that, it ain't getting you any pussy" He laughs, agreeing with your long tangent about how being new at skating didn't mean you were a poser, and that being a poser is lame. "Like what you doing when someone asks if you can do a trick or show them? You just paid for a deck to look cool?"

"Exactly! They act like we can't tell who's a poser and who's not!"

You reach the entrance, having to go your separate ways home.

"See you tomorrow, dude" You smile with a light chuckle, waving him a little goodbye as you step on your board to skate away.

"See ya! I'll bring those cookies tomorrow too!" He smiles and waves back at you.

Ray and Fourthgrade approach, confused and amused looks on their faces.

"Cookies? When did you become a baker, n***?" Ray asks.

"Shut the fuck up, I owe them"

"For what?" He asks again as the trio walk down the sidewalk, straying away from the street til they got off school property.

"Inviting us to that thing on Friday, and homework answers"

"Ugh, here he goes again"

#lowkeyrobin #fuckshit mid90s #mid90s imagine #mid90s x reader #fuckshit oneshot #fuckshit x reader #a24 films #a24 #skater film #olan prenatt x reader #♣️ anon

[march2nd]

BEFORE THE STORM

FORGET ME (not) m.list next

prologue - BEFORE THE STORM

please note that I do not follow canon in this one , basically i have read the hunger games series a long time ago, and i can't read it again bc reading finnick's death scene pains me (that's why I am writing this ff, to give him a deserved happy ending). also english is not my first language!

tw: canon typical violence, mentions of psychological distress, allusions to using someone for their body , reader is still a minor in this chapter!

word count: 1313

When a tribute from your district gets chosen, they are basically considered to be dead meat already. Sure, they have been some exceptions from this rule, but your District is nothing like 1, 2 or even 4; you consider the games stupid, preparation for them a waste of time that can be spend on being useful in the society. Honestly you cannot count how many times you have calculated the probability of being chosen and the outcome is the same every time - extremely low but unfortunately never reaching zero as you had to sign up a few times for extra food rations after your father's death.

Up until last year you have considered yourself to be lucky - born into a moderately wealthy family renewed for inventing long distance communication system prone to any hacker attacks from the rats living in the underground as your parents would often say. However, now your father was six feet under after a successful assassination attempt that your family never came to terms with. Maybe he knew too much or did not want to work in the Capital anymore, wanting to spend more time with his beloved wife and four daughters here in District 3, you learned that in this cruel system people never were free no matter how much were they valued. After your father has not came home that day as it was scheduled your mother screams became engraved into your head, as she was the first to realize that he was never coming back. This event was shortly followed by confiscation of property and your wealth came next and suddenly the explanation presented by the peacekeepers stopped making any sense.

"He died in an accident in the lab," they said. "Nothing could have been done to save him, the burns were too severe" or "he was overworking himself and did not notice that something was wrong until it was too late." For you it was just a pack of lies that no matter how many times were repeated could never be believed. After his unexpected death you had to move houses - from your comfortable middle class house you were transferred to the one of the crappiest regions in your District, to live in the overpopulated and cramped blocks that looked like they could collapse at any moment. You couldn't blame your mom for this, as she couldn't afford anything else given that you were evicted from the old home by force. It was now given to the new peacekeepers commander as more and more of them were transferred to your District. For that you could only blame the society that was in dismay and social uneasiness. Before you blamed them for rioting or going on strikes - your indoctrinated brain could not support them as you have been sheltered for the hardship they endured most of your life.

With time, gone were your beautiful baby blue dresses, cute ribbons you used to tie in your hair and perfectly manicured nails. Fortunately, what stayed with you were your eyes full of wonder and hunger for knowledge. After few years you simply realized that this kind of life was not worth of living, that's why you wanted to change your family's fate once again, that's why you began trying your best at school. Little did you realize your plans were to be cut short as your father's life.

Since last year and your father's passing you had to sign up for the extra rations every time you could, but you knew that other children have been doing it all their life. Having discussed it with your family you knew next year would be better - your mother has found a job at a factory and knowing her intelligence she could be counting on getting a promotion any time soon. Back then she only left her job to rise you and your sisters up. Your oldest sister Stella, having turned 21 this year could be considered as the sunshine of your family. You think of her to be the most beautiful woman you have ever seen and so do many peacekeepers as she often disappeared with them for the night. This has never stopped her from laughing and dancing every time she had occasion to. Your second sister, Diana can be described to be Stella's moon, with her habit of keeping everything to herself and you deem her to be mysterious and dark. Truely you can never understand her. She was spending an awful amount of time near the outskirts of the city recently and had a head full of dangerous ideas. She has already turned 18 thus safe from the upcoming reaping.

Then there was you, sharing some of both of your older sister's characteristics. You have been dreaming of being selected to train and work for the Capitol. You want to project useful devices just as your father did. While you don't trust them you like the money you could get out of it. If your family were ever to be happy again, this is the path you must follow. You imagine Stella being finally free and doing whatever she pleases instead of worrying about all of your wellbeing, Diana could find her happiness and live in her own house with three cats or more, dedicating all her time to writing and reading, mom and little Elena could go with you to the Capitol as you imagine yourself as an esteemed engineer. To be honest, you cannot accept another future ahead of you. It has to come true, there was no other way to save you all from drowning in this mess. At least you think so.

It was agreed some time ago that your sister Elena would never take part in the reaping. She was very different and it was painful obvious. She was a genius, her intelligence was indescribable, she has already skipped some classes at school. The problem was she could turn off at any moment and trap herself in her own world. You had to accompany her to school every time as she would more often than not lose her way when she was alone. She was lonely, you could tell that but had a heart of gold. If she were to go to the Games it would be like sending a lamb to a slaughter. You and your family could have not live with the thought that you have willingly signed her up for the reaping and could allow the evil of this world to take her.

You dreamed of working for the Capital, you could call yourself selfish but there was no other option. No chance to change your family's fate for the better, no opportunity to get Elena proper therapy. You believed that you had to accept the reality you were in and take the most out of it for you and your family. That's why when at the day before the reaping, deep in the night Diana asked you whether you would like to organize an escape for your family and you lashed out on her.

"Do you even think about the others?!" you asked, trembling "and then what? Die in the woods out of hunger, dehydration or of a wild animal attack? You want all of us to die one by one?" After that she looked at you with disbelief and said: "and you want to work for our father's killers?'"

You swallowed and was fighting the urge not to slap her.

"Yes that's what I want. I want to guarantee a stable income and therapy for Elena and not to die of a glorified suicidal death." You look at her with hatred in your eyes. "But you Diana, you do what you want."

She leaves and then you cry yourself to sleep.

NOTES:

i'm still figuring what my writing style is, maybe i will edit this chapter in the future or change forms of narration but as for now i want to go further with the story! see you soon <3

#finnick x reader #finnick odair #the hunger games

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

okay so plumbing is supwr easy, if they are plastic you only need pipe cutters, plumbers glue/cleaner, im guessin 1/2 inch or quarter inch stick of pipe,2 connectors and thats all. Its all at lowes. So tirn off the water at the road at your water meter or at the main shutoff valve to the house. You will know if its off bc in the water meter a little red arrow or wheel will stop spinning. So then just go up a little from the broke place in the pipe and cut the bad out then clean and glue the connectors at each end of the new pipe connecting it to the old and wait 10 minutes then turm the water back on slowly. Should be fixed afterward. =) started reading laof btw, very good so far!

thank you so much i really appreciate this! i've already got the water turned off (because this happens almost every year ugh) and am waiting for my grandfather/landlord to come with his tool kit, so thank you for this because he definitely cant crawl under the house anymore and im gonna have to do it myself lol

the main issue is that this house is extremely old and drafty and alot of the pipes are on the outside back wall, so its a constant struggle to keep them from freezing in the first place. basically i have to have a space heater every six feet or so on the back side of the house AND under both sinks, and i put off buying new ones to replace the two that broke LAST year for too long and now im up a shit creek without a paddle rip

not to be an old person but @ my fellow late 20s-and-olders remember when you could buy a really good space heater for $50 and it would last five years minimum? lmao

#ask #amazon-me-bitches #the pipes debacle of 2024 #and you knoooooooow that shits gonna mold and make my asthma even worse

[ughgoaway]

aCEACECACECCSCACECECECCACECE-

this is coming at such a late time honestly but the way i literally was SAT when i saw that the angst fic was finally posted. but ohmygod. cut to last night and me reading it in T E A R S at 3 am. ace i do not think ill ever find the words to say how incredible it was i mean i knew you were G OO D but literally. etch that chapter on my grave because trust and believe it has erased me for life ohmygod i dont even know if i can ever reread it 😭😭

honestly on the same boat with cookie anon bc i feel the need to scream to you about how perfect it was but like thanks for ripping my heart out it was so horrible but also. more please 😭😭 you are TOO GOOD to not be writing angst regularly… (now i need an angst fic with a good ending ohmygod plea s e-)

- bff anon is six feet under after that chapter i will always be ur biggest fan!!

OH MY GOD!! BFFFF!!! HIIIIII!!!!

omg... NOT 3 AM TEARS IM SO SORRYYYYYY!! also, all these compliments are gonna make me SOB? incredible... ME??? SOMETHING I WROTE WAS "INCREDIBLE"?? STOPPPPP I CANT EVEN BELIEVE YOU!!! etch it on your grave???? please I'm gonna cry, I'm so so fucking happy you liked it. I was so worried that you and Cookie Anon would hate it, so honestly, I'm so glad y'all enjoyed it! re-reading might cause you some emotional distress based on this review... so maybe give it a few weeks before attempting it lmaoooo

(but also... you re-read stuff I write?? huh?? that never occurred to me before wtf)

scream about it being good AND rip your heart out?? that is the biggest angst fic compliment!!!! THATS THE WHOLE AIM, I AM SO FLATTERED OMGGGGGG. you and cookie anon are the angst truthers, and I love you both for it <3333

I will definitely be writing more angst because it was so much fun to write, and the reactions from y'all are hilarious. but... you want a happy ending??? what is the point of angst if not to destroy all your hopes and dreams??? na just kidding. If I come up with a good concept, I will happily write some angst with a happy ending!!! :))

bff I am YOUR biggest fan and I genuinely can't even tell you how big the smile on my face was when I read this ask. I LOVE YOUUUUU <33333

#pls i am sobbing crying #people are being so nice about this fic #and i was SO NERVOUS #but i am over the moon you enjoyed it bff #i kept on thinking of all the secret angsty anons whilst writing it hehehe #bff anon <33333 #anon! #teacher au!

[mickeytheticklee]

XG as lees/lers (can be inaccurate but I love them! Best girls!)

Jurin: Cute and shy ler

Like she's so cool and attractive on stage then BOOM flustered ler

Her weakness is hearing cute giggles

Which is sort of why she loves to tickle Harvey or Juria

Giggles from them make her instantly smile and be down bad like girl GET A GRIP

She's such a softie and now after discovering what tummy nuzzles are she now wants to do it to you

Tummy nuzzles, tummy kisses, then tiny raspberries that sent you into orbit

She's rarely evil, I somehow think she's a ler leaning switch if possible because she can't say the tword

Gives out birthday tickles (and it be the best thing ever)

May be shy but is never ashamed to admit how much she loves the member's tummies, she's makes everyone feel confident in their tummy

So support jurin possibly being a soft ler

Chisa: Tickle monster ler

Definitely loves being a ler and has such an imagination with it

Which is fun but evil when you're hiding under your bed for dear life

Then being dragged by your feet and being tickled

She absolutely loves it when you hold your laughter and she hits that specific spot that gets you bursting, her fav concept

“Come on, let me hear that voice. I know you wanna let all those giggles out."

I'm sorry but if Chisa is tickling your feet she will find every way to tickle it even if you kick

You barely tease her bc if you do she's going to chase you all around the house

Loves either tickling your feet or sneaking a few pokes on your side

The last person you wanna call for help if someone else is tickling you (especially Hinata)

Best girl Chisa (fun fact no matter how loud your laugh is she'll love it no matter what)

Hinata: Lee....leaning switch possibly

It's difficult to tell because her and Cocana wouldn't be big into tickling

But all the girls wanna tickle her

That smile is infectious like they need to see her smile everyday

Is the most ticklish out of xg, so they don't try too hard to hurt her. They just to simple pokes and little tickles at her neck

Won't admit it but is secretly thinking about being tickled tortured by all the xg members (it'll happen one day)

As for the small ler side of her, it only happens with you

Whether she's tickling your sides in an interview or pinning you down and tickling your armpits

The thought of tickling you makes her energetic

Also loves that she's strong enough to pin you down and give you raspberries like she loves that you can't escape in her embrace

Is close to being a ler like Chisa, all that's missing is for her and Chisa to team up (which will never happen luckily)

Harvey: Lee, the babiest lee #1

THIS GIRL AIN'T NO DAMN LER I'M SO SORRY

Like she's so baby and her smile aww 🥺🥺

You wonder how she has a smile that cute but it's because of her teammates aka the six lers

It's mostly Hinata or Jurin tickling her bc of her preference of liking soft tickles

The members tickle her all the time and all those times she doesn't stop them

Especially if she likes to go on her member's lap as her way of asking for tickles

Whenever she does get tickled all the members just say she's cute and she starts to blush like crazy

Can never put herself into saying the tword, she malfunctions whenever someone asks if she can tickle her

But it tells whenever she pats her stomach for more raspberries

Again you would be surprised by how charismatic she is on stage only to find out she's a cutie patootie lee

Juria: Babiest lee #2

She gives off big lee energy (I love her she's my bias)

Unlike Harvey she's more willing to say the tword

She craves tickles and will annoy and tickle any member to get tickles

Is more into much rougher tickles which is why she tries to attack Chisa (and Chisa isn't ticklish)

Also that smile whenever she gets raspberry or ankle tickles it's so mf adorable

It's crucial to tickle her bc she is the mood maker and battery charger of xg

If she isn't bouncing off the walls then it's required she gets tummy and thigh tickles for two minutes

She loves it so much she pretends to be sad sometimes

Which backfires when she gets caught, and her punishment is more tickles

A sneaky little lee Juria

Maya: Fun ler

The only girl who can save you if you're being trapped by Cocona or Chisa

Overall she's not an evil girl like Jurin but her tickle skills....now...

She will tickle you until you're tired and sleeping next to her

Which is kind of wants she wants because she loves snuggling with you and her members

She knows how to tickle every spot but always goes wild and digs her fingers and thumbs into it

It's fun until you're hollering at how she's tickling your hips

But she's fun because of her energy and how you can tell she enjoys knocking you down with tickles

That cute ass smile after she tickles your belly button <3

Loves to play hide and seek with you

Random fact but I'm sure she'll love giving reward tickles since you never clean your room

Cocona: Random secret weapon ler

At first she wasn't into tickling because she prefers to have her time alone

But ever since that time where you two cuddled and you were blushing at her hands being on your stomach she saw that it wasn't too bad

Lil jealous

Like how Jurin was giving you raspberries so Cocona trapped you into a room and gave you tummy noms and raspberries

She is a softie but annoy her the wrong way and she will bite back

Like she'll bite your ribs which you would never imagine would tickle so damn much

Won't hesitate to call Maya to join in on the tickling action

Isn't entirely evil, she just wants to cuddle you and have your tummy on her lap

Or just wants you on her lap to give you endless tummy squeezes when she's bored

It is true that tickling made y'all closer because now she rather be tickling you than being alone

#everything i do i do it a1 flawless #shooting star has to be the best song to be tickled to i need someone to prove that theory #it's been a long time doing a lee ler analysis bc i don't Stan that many groups #however I've been obsessed with xg ever since shooting star came out #kpop tickle #xg #tickling

[dr3amofagame]

UNO REVERSE! top five foursquare duos!!

i can't believe you would do this to me >:( i didn't do it to you or anything nope (<- lying)

um um um four square my beloved .... choosing this is so hard

For Kat's post on the same subject: look here for some context on the AU as well as her top 5! The basic premise of the AU is simple: c!dream and j!dream get put In The Box for bonding purposes and receive a small selection of Visitors !! (The Technos, the Sams, and the Quackitys). This goes ... well. I'd say it's fun times for all, but that's not strictly accurate. Very fun for us XD though, and isn't that what really matters?

Anyway, onto the top five (note: I tried to keep from too much overlap w/ Kat's, bc all the duos in this are honestly really really fun):

5. j!Dream + c!Quackity

c!Quackity has been the specter over j!Dream's head for so long - this implacable weight that lingered over his head, that he couldn't put a name to, that resided in the threats the Warden would hiss at him when he got too testy (I could skin you alive, I could cut off your hands, I could nail you to the wall and leave you that way. Don't test me, Dream. This isn't torture. You don't know what that is.)

He's been told, again and again, that he's had it good. That it wasn't that bad, that he doesn't know what torture is, really - what Sam did was nothing. He's just weak. And hell, he's got something to prove, doesn't he? Something to throw in the face of c!Dream's snide remarks, the Sams' hypocrisy. (To prove to himself that he isn't exactly as pathetic as they all think he is.)

And as for c!Quackity - j!Dream is strange, uncomfortable. This one doesn't flinch at him the same way; this one doesn't bear the same marks of his influence, how he built himself into something through blood and sweat and every drop of fear he'd worked for. In a way, his existence is discomfiting because it - takes the singularity of his achievements from him. He's no longer the only one that was willing to go to these lengths, the only one that didn't shy away from getting his hands dirty. This Dream doesn't fear him nearly in the same way as the ghost of the Warden that follows his every step - and of course, c!Quackity aims to do something about that.

4. j!Quackity + j!Sam

My God. These two. Everything about them had already been so delightfully complex in the original AU - with the context of their counterparts and their situation, it only becomes all that much more complicated. They have all the rough memories of the JMAH timeline; they're forced to cooperate to keep the Dreams under control. There is so much tension (in more than one way- [gunshots]) and they're just. So fucking fun as a duo.

j!Quackity thinks that j!Sam is a creep, period, you get no bitches + please die alone in a ditch + L + ratio. Every time they're forced to interact is only reinforcing this idea in his mind. j!Quackity is the least possessive over the Dreams, strictly, and is the most convinced of the idea that he can still get the revive book - not having had nearly as long of an opportunity to try and torture it out of him. His goal is to make the Dreams miserable and get the book and put them six feet under - and honestly, more than that, his goal is to kill j!Sam As Soon As Possible, Please And Thank You.

j!Sam has Regrets over the whole Quackity thing, in both timelines, and even though he's making more of a concerted effort to Work Together than j!Quackity he's also - not got the highest opinion on working together with anyone except for himself when it comes to the Dreams (just me and him and all that). Everything j!Quackity says and does (emphasis on says, good lord) only seems to emphasize this point in his head. Surrendering Dream to Quackity had been bad enough in the first timeline - to do it now? Is a whole different beast entirely - and one that he's going to continue to struggle with, for better or for worse.

3. j!Quackity + c!Quackity

I couldn't resist these two - oh, the girlies the girlies. They are everything to me. Hand in hand against a world of Weird Ass Sam And Dream Bullshit (What the FUCK, am i right ???) They are subjected to the Rituals and they are Not Happy about it. In some ways, they look at each other and see the difference in timelines most keenly - j!Sam and c!Sam share memories, j!Dream and c!Dream have the commonality of a year of Hell, and the Quackitys - some things are very similar. Some things are very, very different. In some ways, it makes them treat each other more like good friends or drinking buddies than the Sams, who are more inclined to see each other as extensions of themselves.

Where the Sams see each other and use each others' existence to reinforce their ideas of themselves as paragons of Justice and Law, and the Dreams can't quite stomach looking at each other without seeing all the ways their Issues reflect on each other and shine a spotlight on their newly gained liabilities, the Quackitys have a slightly more well-rounded perception of each other. They embolden each other and enable each other because of their shared humanity, find common ground in crude jokes and laughing jibes and time to gossip, in the filth and grime of holding someone down to cut into them and the ensuing intimacy it demands, the heat of skin against skin. They look at each other and there's not really anything to hide, is there? In some ways, this is frightening. In others - it's almost a relief.

(Also, the ways that the Sams are more comfortable with each other when the Dreams are around, while the Quackitys come out of their shells with each other when they're alone? Fun. Fun.)

2. j!Sam + j!Dream

These two. These two. There's no one quite like them - the heady mix of fear and relief and possessiveness that can make the entire rest of the world fade away, sometimes - the two-sided knowing that really isn't matched by any other duo. It had been just them, only them, for nearly a year. No other interference. No other visitors. Nothing. Just me and him.

Neither of them quite know how to function with a witness, never mind several - and no one around quite knows either of them like the two of them know each other. There had been no Quackity to play off of, no Techno to keep Dream company - no one had been present, except for them, in the aftermath of where their timelines had diverged so greatly. Even now, even with so much revealed, there's still so much that resides in mystery. That the others don't know.

It's hard not to look at the two of them and- wonder.

j!Dream + c!Dream

To literally no one's surprise, these two take first place. They're the two that started it all, the two that are featured throughout, the two that it all circles back to, in the end. It's about the ways they hate each other - for not being strong enough, for being able to fight back when the other couldn't. It's about the ways they scream at each other and hit each other where it hurts and what does it matter, really, if they're quoting Sam or Quackity or whoever as they're doing so - what does it matter, as long as it gets their counterpart to fucking shut up?

But it's also about how the Sams arrive and they immediately come up with a plan, bracing against the potions slamming down on their backs and chained against the wall and biting back screams of pain. It's about how they fought, half-delirious from exhaustion and barely able to stand and facing impossible odds. It's about how they keep watch for each other when they manage to get a few moments of sleep. How in the end, even though they hate each other, even though they can't look at their counterpart without seeing the hell they endured and the hell they're not sure they can survive (and the hell they'll have to live through, anyway, because what other option is there?) and at least they have each other.

They fight together; they surrender together. c!Dream snaps at j!Dream to drink the fucking milk, holy shit, it's not fucking drugged (I was watching, I know, I know) and j!Dream forces c!Dream to eat a gapple before their next visitors (heal, eat, I only have you.) It's not quite care, it's nothing like love. There's so much fear and trauma they have to work past before they can imagine confronting what the other lived through (what they themselves lived through).

But they have each other.

(In the end, they're not facing it all alone.)

#my asks !! #four square AU #time traveler sam AU #just me and him AU #writing !! #long post #my BOYSSSS #honorable mention for the dreams + XD #mostly because they fucking hate his guts and he's just Vibing #tw torture #tw abuse #kat :D

[writernopal]

Happy STS! Here’s a summer themed ask for you:

All of your OCs are at the beach! What is each OC doing and what chaos ensues?

(Optional things for your OCs to be doing, there are no rules <3)

Which character is most at home in the water and has to be dragged out, and demands that the whole group play all the water games?

Which character full stop refuses to even touch the water (whether out of fear or another reason)?

Who has the bag full of snacks and is constantly yelling at people to drink water and put on sunscreen?

Which character is dunking people in the water, grabbing other people’s ankles, pulling dumb pranks, etc?

Which character is just there for the Instagram (or equivalent) pics?

Which character gleefully asks to be buried in the sand and realizes too late that they’ve made a horrible mistake?

Which character is the sandcastle captain making elaborate sand creations and who WILL FREAK OUT if you come within ten feet of their project?

Which character is Mx. Put on Way Too Much Sunscreen?

Which character didn’t put on ANY sunscreen and is now burnt to a crisp?

And finally: Which character is the reason that the group has to go home early?

for whichever and however many OCs you would like <3

Happy STS, Anna!

I answered a summer/beach day type ask here, but I'm going to answer this using the prompts you left because they are just too fun to pass up!

Which character is most at home in the water and has to be dragged out, and demands that the whole group play all the water games?

Fay. That woman is practically half fish. She would live in the water if she could, and she's very good at swimming, so she'd demand all sorts of games including her favorite: chicken fight. Though she doesn't play fair so aside from being good in the water she'd win everytime bc she's probably cheating lol.

Which character full stop refuses to even touch the water (whether out of fear or another reason)?

Axtapor. Despite being a pirate, he HATES water. He'll only get in if Mariel goes in and that's just cuz he wants to be with her.

Who has the bag full of snacks and is constantly yelling at people to drink water and put on sunscreen?

Mariel. Though she's probably not yelling, it's more like soft suggesting/quiet begging while she follows after people with like six different sunscreens to choose from lol. Poor girl.

Which character is dunking people in the water, grabbing other people’s ankles, pulling dumb pranks, etc?

Lexlar. Pranking people and generally being a nuisance is one of his favorite things to do and he's pretty good at it despite being mostly brainless hahaha. Most people forgive him because he's just a giant dorito shaped oaf of a lizardman.

Which character is just there for the Instagram (or equivalent) pics?

Anise. This girl is all about optics, and she'd probably be getting all sorts of pictures, making it look like she's alone on some fancy vacation at a resort or something. She's actually trying her hardest to avoid Lexlar's tricks lol.

Which character gleefully asks to be buried in the sand and realizes too late that they’ve made a horrible mistake?

All of the Lizardfolk boys LOL Lizardfolk like to bury themselves under the sand to rest (some will do this when taking naps), so I can imagine them burrowing, and then when high tides starts to pull in they realize they'd made a grave error. The humans would need to help dig them out, it's all very dramatic.

Which character is the sandcastle captain making elaborate sand creations and who WILL FREAK OUT if you come within ten feet of their project?

Thelma-Louise. I haven't talked about her much, but she's the First Mate of the Siren's Marauders, aka Fay's crew, and she is VERY picky about process and the way that things should be done. She has a very posh accent, so I can imagine she's reaming people in the equivalent of the Queen's English if they come too close to her precious lol.

Which character is Mx. Put on Way Too Much Sunscreen?

Jace. He was probably told by Rapheus to put on sunscreen so that he wouldn't burn (as a practical joke bc Lizardfolk can't get sunburnt), and the kid took it too far, and now he's all sticky LOL. Also poor little dude is blind so he probably didn't spread it around enough T_T

Which character didn’t put on ANY sunscreen and is now burnt to a crisp?

Cherry-Pie. I haven't talked a lot about him, but he's another one of Fay's crew. A big barrel-chested man who is absolutely the type to try to shoot the sun. He's the one who insists that he doesn't burn, he tans but he also falls asleep pretty easily so he'd wake up from a nap very crispy.

And finally: Which character is the reason that the group has to go home early?

Hartim. He's a snakeman, and he really likes swimming, so he'd likely scare all of the other beachgoers and end up getting the group banned from the beach. He'd probably say somethin' to the effect of "I'll give ye's somethin' ta scream 'bout." and then actually eat someone. They'd definitely have to leave after that lol.

#thanks for the ask! #nopal answers #aasoaf #sts #fay #axtapor #mariel #lexlar #anise #thelma-louise #jace #rapheus #cherry-pie #hartim

[artificialqueens]

💙 Moving Out (Dayasco) - Strawberry

Summary: Daya moves out for college, and Bosco is coming with her.

A/N: Another submission for the Pride challenge! I think this is considered domestic fluff? Lol but this is a part of a series I have on AO3, I haven't brought it to AQ bc it's fucking long but if you want context, here's the series! 

How did two high school students manage to have so much junk? That was what Daya was currently asking herself. 

Her and Bosco had arrived at Daya's aunt’s house, their new home for the next year or so. Her aunt had already cleaned out the spare bedroom for them to move into, and Daya was questioning whether or not all of their stuff was going to fit in the space provided.

“How do we have so much shit?” Daya asked as they brought the first couple of suitcases up to the bedroom. 

Bosco shrugged, “I don’t know. I only have two suitcases while you have like, six. Maybe you just have hoarding tendencies.” 

While her partner was mostly correct, she was not happy with the callout. “I didn’t bring that much. Just the college existentials!”

“I’m sure you’re going to get a lot of use out of those shoes that make you seven feet tall.”

Daya gasped, “Excuse me, Gigi got me those for my birthday! I can’t leave them at my childhood home forever.”

 “Whatever. Let’s finish bringing our stuff in. We can go to the Taco Bell we passed on the way here for lunch if we finish at a decent time.” 

That motivated Daya enough to the point where she attempted and failed to bring up three suitcases at once. Bosco had to take one of them from Daya’s grip in order to get it into the house and up the stairs. 

There was only one dresser in their bedroom, and they tried to figure out if they could make it work without having to go out and buy something. Daya figured that if she hung up all of her clothes in the closet and Bosco put theirs in the dresser, they wouldn’t have to go through all of the effort of bringing another piece of furniture into the room.

It worked out. Kind of. Bosco didn’t have a ton of clothes, so they knew that everything would fit right into the dresser while Daya had only unpacked half of the clothes she had brought with her to Chicago before the closet was completely full.

“Bosco?” Daya sighed, looking down at her partner who was sitting on the floor, folding her leggings. 

They didn’t bother to look up, “Yes, princess?”

“We might have to go to Target after all. I ran out of room.” Daya was trying to avoid a trip to Target. While she loved the store, she always ended up walking around the entire store and buying things that she did not need. 

“I was secretly hoping you would say that. I promise I won’t let you spend $200 on shit we don’t need.” The only things they needed was another dresser and a new bed set. The only reason Daya didn’t bring the one on her childhood bed was because she ran out of room packing up her car and figured that her aunt would already have something on the bed. She did, but the pattern was hideous and Bosco told her they wouldn’t be caught dead sleeping under a comforter like the one provided. 

“You’re always looking out for me. That’s why I wanted you to come with me.” Bosco didn’t know that Daya had been brewing up the plan for them to move out with her since the month they got together, and she didn’t know if she should tell them that.

Daya got onto the floor with Bosco and helped them finish folding up their clothes. She didn’t see the point of folding them if they were just going to end up wearing the clothes anyway, but that’s how Bosco liked her clothes and Daya wasn’t going to try to change that fact. 

“What does this shirt say? I’m hot and a grandma too?” Daya asked, holding one of Bosco’s pajama shirts for them to see, “Where in the hell did you get this?”

The black haired girl grinned at the sight of the cropped, black shirt. “I found it at the thrift store when I was like sixteen. I’m never getting rid of it, so don’t even ask.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to get rid of it, I was going to ask if I could wear it. I let you wear my Fall Out Boy shirt all the time, it’s only fair.”

“Maybe. I call dibs on wearing it tonight, though.” Bosco smirked. “And the night after.”

Daya pouted at that. “Not fair!”

“It’s not fair for me to wear my own shirt?” 

After they finished bickering and folding and putting Bosco’s clothes into the dresser, they headed to Target. Bosco practically had to drag Daya away from the dollar spot and to the section of the store they actually needed to go to.

They settled on a dark blue bed set and Daya had a hard time picking out what dresser they had on the shelves she wanted to get. In the end, she decided to settle on a taller, skinnier one that she hoped matched the rest of the furniture in the bedroom.

“Daya, why are we walking towards the clothing section?” Bosco asked, catching onto their girlfriend taking the long way back to the self checkout. 

The brunette gripped the shopping cart tighter. “We’re not walking towards the clothing section.”

“Then why are we passing the maternity section right now?” 

The taller girl didn’t say a word. She continued towards the women’s section — she really didn’t need any more clothes but she saw a TikTok of a cute band tee in the Wild Fable section and couldn’t help herself. Bosco ended up giving in, liking the shirts as well, but they made sure to stop Daya before she had added a whole new fall wardrobe into their shopping cart. 

“See? We only spent $150!” Daya squealed as they finished ringing up all of their stuff, “And that’s with the clothes.” 

“You’re a budgeting genius, babe.”

The Taco Bell on the drive back was calling the taller girl’s name. The line was pretty long, but she knew for a fact that they had brought back their famous Nacho Fries that week, and didn’t mind waiting. Bosco didn’t mind the wait either, as long as they were able to control what music played in the car while they waited to order.

 “Moving in wasn’t so bad this time around.” Bosco commented, stealing a Nacho fry from Daya. “Moving from Montana to Missouri was a fucking nightmare. But we only had one car full of shit to bring with us this time, so that’s probably why it’s less stressful.” 

Daya supposed Bosco was right, “The only thing I’m dreading is building that fucking dresser. I wish Crystal was here to build it for me. It’s going to take me like a week to put together.”

“Come on, the Target furniture is easier to build. It’ll take us like, two hours if you don’t get distracted.” 

After getting home and opening the box, they ended up getting very distracted. At least Daya had another week until college started up to finish putting it together.

#rpdr fanfiction #bosco x daya #daya betty #bosco #s14 #fluff #lesbian au #fic challenge #pride 2022 #strawberry

[troglobite]

alskdjf

v fun not realizing exactly how much my back wore me out yesterday and continues to wear me out today

until a candle basically causes a meltdown

i'm literally still shaky. i managed to blow dry my hair brush my teeth and do everything else i needed to do and now i'm dry and in pajamas etc

but i need to eat even though i feel sick

and i can't go out there bc if i do i'll have to do it while wearing a mask

and if my mom sees me wearing a mask she'll just get more upset

so i have to sit in my fucking room w nothing to eat feeling tired awful shaky and sick

and not being able to do anything abt it, including just wanting to sit on the couch to help my back feel better

bc my mom's in a bad mood

and bc we live in fucking Nothing Square Feet

it's literally inescapable

i'm so glad that this all started literally just bc my fucking aunt couldn't be fucked to check where the power cords connect on my grama's recliner so they had to call my mom like the chair stopped working :((( and in those 25 mins of clarifying to them that there is also a power BOX under the chair that has to be plugged in and that was all that was wrong, which happened LITERALLY ALMOST SIX HOURS AGO NOW, my mom is just in a horrible fucking mood

and bc we don't have any fucking space or sanctuary in this godforsaken fucking house

there's nowhere for me to run and hide

i can hear EVERYTHING on the tv loud and clear

can't leave to get my headphones from the other room bc she might see me wearing a mask

can't go out and sit w her bc again, mask

and then she'll ALSO get mad at me bc she'll want to watch something that "[i] won't want to watch so [she has] to change it" even though she literally doesn't and idgaf

and i can't go sit anywhere else in the house bc the only place w remotely ANY back support for me is my own bed and the couch and the couch is off limits

and i'm just fucking at my breaking point

what's more is she left the fucking candle on yesterday too

i just.

why.

fucking WHY.

i'm so tired.

and this house is SO FUCKING STUPID.

her bedroom and bathroom will kinda smell like the candle, yeah, but then LITERALLY EVERYWHERE ELSE IN THE HOUSE WILL SMELL INTOLERABLY LIKE THE CANDLE

INESCAPABLY LIKE THE FUCKING CANDLE

AND WILL SMELL LIKE THAT FOR FUCKING HOURS

i'm so fucking tired

i hate this fucking house i hate it here i can't fucking stand living here anymore bc i can't fucking stand having to be the fucking target of all of her ire and her fucking punching bag when she doesn't want to fucking do anything to help her process feeling that way

FUCK THERAPY

FUCK COUNSELING

FUCK ANYTHING ELSE HELPFUL OR PRODUCTIVE

JUST TAKE IT OUT ON YOUR DISABLED AND CHRONICALLY ILL KID WHO BASICALLY WISHES THEY WEREN'T EVEN ALIVE HALF THE FUCKING TIME JUST BC THAT'D BE EASIER!!!

caveat that i'm FINE it's too much energy and too many consequences to Actually Fucking Dying it's a passive "would be nice if i ceased to exist and was erased from all memories" once again bc i can't fucking escape ANYTHING

and when i can't escape and i'm just spiraling towards meltdown i just want to fucking die and i can't take this anymore