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gravehags · 8 months

Text

ain't it a gentle sound

Pairing: Dewdrop x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: ghouls being ghouls, ghouls being horny, finger fucking

Words: 2,201

Summary: Swiss warned you about the other ghouls. You weren't prepared for an encounter like this.

a/n: sequel to the undone and the divine. i've decided this is now part of what i'm going to be calling the ghoul bicycle series because clearly reader needs to get railed by every ghoul and ghoulette to fulfill their destiny of becoming ghoul consort. so be it.

~~~

“Hey,” Swiss says quietly as he watches you hook the back of your bra. “I think I should give you a heads up about something.”

You lean over to shimmy your breasts into the cups and when you straighten your back to meet his gaze, he looks nervous.

“What?” you ask slowly, eyes narrowing.

“Remember what I said about uh…marking you?”

Your hand flies to your neck to rub against the various purple bites that decorated your throat. You had almost forgotten he had done that and you sigh when the realization hits you that you won’t be able to hide all of them with your habit. Ah well.

“They’ll fade soon, yeah?” you say, bending over to pick up your shirt off his bedroom floor. “But I like them, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

He flashes you that signature megawatt smile and preens a little before remembering what he was intending to tell you.

“I’m glad but er…just letting you know. When the other ghouls learn that we’ve…been together…they’re going to start approaching you.”

“For? I–oh. Oh.” You remember what the other ghouls told you yesterday about how they’ve all been into you. “But now that I’m, y’know, not a virgin anymore won’t things change? Surely I’ll smell different. Whatever that means.”

“Yeah, you’ll smell different,” Swiss says, his voice going up a few octaves. “You’ll smell like ghoul.”

You finish adjusting your shirt and put your hands on your hips to look at him dead on.

“Swiss, what exactly are you trying to say here?”

He heaves a deep sigh and scratches the side of his head, tail flicking behind him anxiously.

“The thing about ghouls is we…we share everything.”

Oh.

“Everything,” you say flatly, to which he nods emphatically with a slightly sheepish smile. You must have quite the expression on your face as his grin rapidly fades and he approaches you, arms extended.

“Hey listen,” he says as he puts his hands on your shoulders, massaging gently, “if you’re not into it I get it. You can tell them to fuck off. I’ll tell them to fuck off.”

Your eyes move from his chest up to his earnest gaze and the slightest hint of a grin curls your lips. Suddenly you’re filled with warmth at the thought of this frankly stunning group of ghouls and ghoulettes expressing interest in little old you. Swiss can practically see the string of filth going through your head as your eyes glaze over a little and he snickers.

“Check you out,” he says slyly, “I’ve made a little deviant out of you, huh? Get dicked down once and all of a sudden–”

Before he can finish the sentence, you shove him away and roll your eyes, but your cheeks flush because he’s right. And he knows it.

“Fuck off,” you snarl with no real malice behind it. “I was a virgin, not fucking ignorant. I know what gets me off.”

Swiss has his head thrown back, positively crowing and you make a noise of disgust as you move to the door.

“Hey!” he says, reaching out to grab you one more time and pull you in to kiss the top of your head. “Have fun.”

–

After you shut Swiss’ door you make your way down the long hallway and out of the den. Your mind is spinning with the possibilities - what would the other ghouls say to you? How would they act? The thrill of anticipation has you practically bouncing on your way back to your quarters.

Little did you know you were setting yourself up for disappointment.

A couple weeks passed and you hadn’t even seen a ghoul - none passed you in the halls, none visited you at your quarters, none sought you out in the dining hall - let alone been propositioned by one. You saw Swiss only in passing, his time consumed with practice and whatever ghoul duties entailed and you had duties of your own to complete. Frankly, you were starting to feel a bit put-out and began wondering if there was something wrong with you. Why else would all of them, who you had until recently called friends, avoid you so desperately? These are the thoughts that echo through your mind late one evening as you work library duty. The other siblings had left early after you told them you would finish shelving the remaining carts of books on your own. Tears begin to well in your eyes as you shove a particularly large tome on binding magic into its place on the shelf. Annoyed, you brush them away with the back of your hand and shake your head to clear your thoughts. You’re about to pick up another book when a low voice calls out from the stacks across the aisle from you.

“Why the tears, sweetheart?”

You whirl around and see a slight figure emerge from the darkness, eyes glowing. Your heart skips a beat when the ghoul steps into the dim light of the overhead lamp.

“Dew! Lilith’s tits where the fuck did you come from?”

“Hell,” he says simply as he saunters over to you with his hands in his pockets, tail swaying lazily behind him. You give him a tired look and he grins, revealing sharp teeth.

“Been a while,” you begin rather coldly. “Funny how you all just disappeared and decided not to speak to me anymore.”

Dew frowns as he traces the gilded lettering of a book on the desk with a single claw.

“We were waiting.”

“For what?”

“For those fucking hickeys Swiss gave you to disappear. Fucking dramatic, I told you. Making sure all of us knew what he did with you.”

Your irritation melts away and is replaced with something much warmer.

“So…what are you doing here?” you ask innocently, tapping your fingers against the desk.

“Called dibs on you didn’t I? I’m here to make good on that.”

You can feel the wetness between your thighs seep through your underwear and before you can utter another word, he’s on you. For someone so slim he’s alarmingly strong, pushing your back into the edge of the mahogany. His hand is threaded in your hair, cradling the back of your scalp with his lips a breath away from yours.

“Do you want me?” he asks, all slyness and sharp teeth.

You nod, your head still in his strong grip as he leans in to tease his lips against yours. When you press forward to meet them, he pulls back again with a little laugh.

“I want to hear you say it,” he purrs, claws scratching gently at your scalp. “Tell me.”

“I want you,” you say, the lowness of your voice startling you. “Here. Now.”

His smirk draws into a full sharp-toothed grin before he finally presses his lips to yours. His kiss is forceful, almost bruising as if he is trying to consume you. When you open your mouth to his probing he groans and fists your hair, licking into your mouth as he pushes you further into the edge of the desk. You can feel his cock pressing into your belly as he takes and takes from you, tail wrapping around you to rub at the small of your back. You barely manage to pull away to breathe, causing him to growl. When you finally pull back slightly despite his iron grip, you reach up to touch his face. He’s taken aback by the tenderness of the gesture and nuzzles into your hand ever-so-slightly.

“Easy, Dew,” you breathe. “I’m not going anywhere.”

At this, he ducks his head into the crook of your neck to inhale deep.

“Fucking love your smell,” he groans, rutting slightly against you, “so sweet.”

“Even after Swiss–”

“Especially after that. Fuck I want you. I want to see the others with you,” he licks a stripe from your shoulder to your ear. “Want to watch you try to take Mountain’s cock. Aether’s too. Fuck you have no idea what the ghoulettes are gonna do to you, do you?”

You’re quickly soaking through your panties and you can feel your wetness sliding down the inside of your thigh under your skirt. When he takes your earlobe between his sharp teeth to nibble at it, your moan echoes through the stacks. The thought of all of them having you, maybe even several at a time, makes you arch your back and hook your leg around Dewdrop’s calf.

He chuckles softly right in your ear as his hands slide down your thighs to the hem of your skirt.

“But for now, I wanna feel that sweet pussy clench around my fingers.”

You nod, in a daze as he puts his hands under your thighs and with his surprising strength, picks you up and places you on the desk. With some maneuvering from you he rucks your skirt up over your hips and trails his fingers along your clothed cunt.

“Fucking hell you’re sopping,” he breathes as you bite your lip and nod once more.

“All for you, Dew,” you moan as he pushes his thumb against the fabric to brush your clit.

“All for me,” he repeats, cocking his head. “Well if you insist.”

In an instant, he’s pushed the gusset of your panties to the side. When his bare, guitar-calloused fingers slowly swipe through your folds your head falls back. He repeats the action several times as you lift your hips to make little circles, encouraging him. When his thumb finds your clit, you grip the edge of the desk with white knuckles. He takes his time spreading your wetness around the bud as you moan into the darkened room.

“Fuck, Dew,” you whine. “Please.”

He knows exactly what you’re asking for as he slides his fingers lower and teases at your entrance.

“Gonna make you feel so good, babe,” he says hoarsely, clearly affected by your display. “Gonna make you scream.”

When he finally, slowly slips one finger inside of you, your eyes roll back in your head. He begins to fuck you at a steady pace, and your hips jerk to meet each thrust.

“More,” you pant after several minutes and he laughs at your desperation but adds a second finger nonetheless. He’s pistoning his fingers in and out of you roughly but when he curls them just so–oh. You’re certain anyone passing the library at this time of night can hear your cries but you can’t bring yourself to care. He’s watching you with gleaming eyes, tail shaking steadily back and forth.

“Take my fingers so good,” he breathes, “think you could take one more?”

You almost fall backwards against the bookcase at the thought before whining an affirmative response. When he slips the third finger in and crooks it against that fucking spot you feel hysterical, cries bouncing off the walls of the cavernous room. You’re babbling desperate nonsense at him, urging him not to stop please don’t stop and he obliges, fingers pistoning in and out of you with unbelievable force.

“Gonna cum for me?” he asks, making you whimper.

“Yes, yes, yes, so good Dew, fuck I love your fingers,”

You’re almost there - so close, so close - and when the tightening in your spine slides into your core and makes your vision go blurry you do, as promised, scream.

He’s grinning wildly before he smashes his lips into yours as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. Tongues tangling, you moan desperately into his mouth as you feel the spade of his tail rubbing circles into your lower back. He devours the sounds you make hungrily, nose pressed firmly against your cheek. When you slowly begin to come down from your high he pulls away, panting.

“Beautiful,” he says, palm on the side of your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone. “Fuck you’re beautiful.”

When he finally slips his fingers out of you, you are filled with a sudden emptiness that leaves you wanting. The feeling is remedied as you watch him raise his fingers to his mouth and slide them in lewdly. His eyes slide shut and he moans low as he carefully sucks your juices from the digits. It’s hypnotic, watching him like this. When he opens his eyes again and removes his fingers from his lips you’re filled with a sudden deep swell of affection.

“Always knew those fingers were good for something other than guitar,” you say quietly with a small smirk which he echoes.

“Yeah? You think about my fingers a lot?”

You slide off the desk and attempt to stabilize yourself. He’s got his hands on your hips steadying you and you feel that wonderful warm feeling again. It’s not until you move in to hold him that you realize he’s still hard.

“Do you…”

He waves you off and shakes his head.

“Another time. Wanted to make you feel good tonight. And to apologize for ghosting you the past couple weeks.”

Sweet. “Thanks, Dew. Hopefully I’ll see more of you around now, yeah?”

He nods with a sly grin, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Oh you’ll be seeing us alright,” he says with a slight leer. “Just you wait.”

Don’t worry, you think. I’ll be counting down the days.

#dewdrop x reader #dewdrop x f!reader #dewdrop ghoul #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

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underground-secret · 5 months

Text

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: The infamous “Hook Man” seems to terrorize a small college town in Iowa, leading these hunters to take care of it.

Warning: Cannon violence, slight description of a corpse, guns, ghosts, flirting 🤭, sitting on lap, slight fake dating, mentions of sexual activity, creepy college boy for like 2 seconds

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra @fablesrose @ada--44

A/N: B/N = brothers name. Yes i haven’t forgotten that reader has a brother i just never had an excuse to bring him up. Anyways his lil convo with reader is based on one i had with my brother, i figured y/n is basically based on me from how i react to things and my speaking mannerisms so i might as well base her brother off my own. (hope you enjoy)

Word count: Around 7K

Hook Man

(Master list, Previous Ch., Next Ch)

The spring breeze rustles my hair as I diligently sip on the chai latte in front of me, the small outdoor cafe we sat at bringing me some much needed peace after a hectic last hunt.

Deans next to me, his arm around my chair practically bringing us closer even as his brother stands at a payphone on the phone with the FBI.

Suddenly my phone rings, the familiar yet annoying buzz ringing in my sweater pocket. Dean looks at me with a raised eyebrow. I shrug at him, I have no idea why or who would be calling me. I fumble the phone out of my pocket looking at the name that was printed on the screen of my flip phone, ‘B/N :D’ sliding across the small screen.

“Oh! It’s my brother!” I smile at Dean. He smiles at me back beneath the cup he brought to his lips, he pulls it away from him “Say ‘Hi’ for us” he requests. Both boys have kind of always been close with my brother, especially Dean who was closer to him in age.

I scoot my seat back, getting up from the white metal chair and walking away slightly, the opposite way in which Sam stood. I flip my phone open with a satisfying click, answering the phone “Hi B/N!” I answer.

“Hey! How are you?” He asks me, his voice sweet and smiley as he speaks. “Busy and tired”, I answer, “What about you?”

“Oh you know, tired also…but I haven’t heard from you in a couple of months. Like at all, you could have texted you know” He lectures and I know he’s more disappointed in me then angry, he’s always been scared that we would become distant considering we lived in different states and that I wasn’t the best at communicating first.

“I’m sorry” I sigh, disappointed in myself too, “I’ve been hunting.”

“All this time? Alone?!” he shoots back without missing a beat.

“No! no no. I don’t do long hunting trips alone… I’m, uh, well Dean came to me and said he needed my help an-“ I explain getting cut off by my brother, “And you can’t say no” He laughs.

“Yeah” I exhale, laughing along with him, “They say hi by the way.”

“Say hi for me too and that if anything happens to you I will personally track them down and remove their orga-“

“Okay okay! I get it yup!… You know they’d never let anything happen to me” I explain, even though under the concealer I wore there were bruises still healing from the shapeshifter hunt. (I don’t blame either one of the boys for what happened.)

“Yeah well I love you and miss you and I wish you’d call more especially if ur out hunting, I need to know you’re safe.” He tells me.

“I love you too, I promise I will call you at least twice a week for updates.” I smile.

“You better, anyways I wish I could talk longer but I’m sitting in the parking lot of my job and have to go in.” He explains. “Alright, bye bye love you!” I finished. “Love you too” he says before hanging up.

I pocket my phone twirling around with a smile on my face. Sam’s back at the table now talking to his brother and by the scowl on his face I'd say his call hadn’t gone well. I walk back over to my seat, Dean's arm still around the chair, “What did I miss?” I ask as I sink down into the chair.

“Dads not in the FBI’s Missing Persons Data Bank and Dean found a possible new hunt for us” Sam brings me up to speed, looking disappointed.

“Here check it out” Dean turns the laptop towards me scrolling up to the beginning of the article, “Ankeny, Iowa. It’s only about a hundred miles from here.”

I read through the article quickly, years of having to read as well as just for fun making me a fast reader. A key point sticking out to me, ‘The mutilated body was found near the victim’s car, parked on 9 Mile Road.’

“I think it might not be anything. One freaked out witness who didn’t see anything? Doesn’t mean it’s the Invisible Man.” Sam points out as I finish reading. “And I think it’s worth checking out, Dad would” Dean counters, giving his brother a pointed look.

“I mean emotions can affect the liability of an eyewitness. However, the fact that the body was suspended from a bridge right over the car in presumably a matter of minutes, considering the time of death and the arrival at the scene, without the witness seeing a thing- like at all is a little bazaar. It’s probably worth checking out.” I ramble out.

“Ha! See” Dean smirks.

The Impala comes to a stop in front of a fraternity house, a big white townhouse, where the victim Rich used to live. It seems like an army of men are outside working on all sorts of cars, was this some sort of bonding thing?

I may have gone to college but I never interacted with frats and I certainly have never seen them all working on different cars all together. Is this normal? Is this what guys do?

We get out of the car immediately getting the attention of the guys working, all their eyes pinned to us.

“Nice wheels.” Dean starts, gaining weird looks from the younger men, “We’re your fraternity brothers. From Ohio. We’re new in town. Transfers. Looking for a place to stay.” He grins. One of the boys nods slowly at him, his gaze then switching to me. He eyed me up and down as if he’s never seen a woman before, despite being in a frat. Maybe that was unfair to say, stereotypes and all that, but it still made my skin crawl and I was suddenly all too aware of the fact that I had chosen to wear a skirt this morning.

The man that looked at me wiped his hands on a dirty rag, “You guys can check it out, but,uh, sorry, no chics allowed here. She’d need to find a sorority spot.” He nods towards me, his eyes a shinny kind of creepy.

“Aw, don’t worry she’s my girlfriend” Dean smirks wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to his body till my side was pressed right up against his, “Gotta make sure my girl knows which rooms mine” he winks at the man and my face flushes. My heart lurches at the phrase ‘my girl’ even though I knew it was just for a cover- it was a lie and yet it felt so right.

*****

We walked through the frat house which was cleaner than I expected, only a few cups lying around and only a small smell of booze.

Dean's fingers were intertwined with mine to keep up the act of me being his girlfriend, and I didn’t mind one bit. Maybe I'm touch starved.

After one last turn in the house we found someone to talk to which happened to be a shirtless guy with yellow shorts painting his face and body purple. Dean knocks on the door with his free hand while Sam and I share a look of confusion with the purple man in front of us.

“Who are you?” the guy asks, turning his body halfway towards us. “We’re your new roommates”, Dean smiles walking further into the room.

The man holds up his paint can and brushes to Dean, “Do me a favor? Get my back. Big game today.” I try to conceal the horror on my face. Dean smirks pointing to his brother, “He’s the artist. Things he can do with a brush.” Sam takes the brush and can with a total look of mortification on his face as he begins to paint the guys back.

Meanwhile, Dean occupies the worn armchair, effortlessly tugging me towards him. He manspreads in the chair, then practically places me on his right thigh. My legs slip between his spread legs. His grip releases my hand, transferring possession to my exposed thigh, the frigid touch of his ring kindling goosebumps along my skin. Suddenly I'm back to not regretting my choice of a skirt this morning.

I search his face for a tell, but all I find is a cryptic smile. He's not giving anything away, engrossed in a magazine he casually picks up from a nearby table. I swallow hard, attempting to regain mental composure, but the echo of 'my girl' and the weight of his hand disrupt any coherent thought. A fog settles in my mind as butterflies riot in my stomach, leaving me dizzy and utterly consumed.

“So…Murph. Is it true?” Dean starts, most likely getting the name from the magazine he had picked up. “What?” he answers.

“We heard one of the guys around here got killed last week.” Dean leads him.

“Yeah.” Murph sighs.

“What happened?” Sam asks, still painting his back.

“They’re saying some psycho with a knife. Maybe a drifter passing through. Rich was a good guy.” Murph explains.

Dean's hand suddenly flexes on my thigh, squeezing it slightly right as I was about to talk, “R-Rich he was with somebody?” I stumble over my words, my voice seemingly a higher octave as I speak. Either way I only asked to see if my assumption was correct- the eyewitness wasn’t just a witness but a possible victim who got away safe.

“Not just somebody. Lori Sorensen.” Murph laughs a little.

“Who’s Lori Sorensen?” I ask, Dean cutting in right after me to poke fun at his brother, “You missed a spot. Just down there- on the back.” Sam glares at him before getting said spot, Dean grins like crazy.

“Lori’s a freshman. She’s a local. Super hot. And get this…she’s a reverend’s daughter.” Murph smirks

“You wouldn’t happen to know which church, would ya?” Dean asks.

The church looked a little worn on the outside, a clear sign it’s been here for awhile but the inside was beautiful. Cherry colored wood used in the whole inside except the walls which were laid with cobblestone and big stain glass windows depicting certain bible scenes. The sun shone through them illuminating the people sitting in the pews with a light of oranges and reds. Yes it looked like any other church sure, and maybe it was the people here showing the love that they felt for someone who was no longer here that made it so beautiful, whatever it was brought a certain warmth to my heart regardless of the fact that I wasn’t religious.

The steady voice of the reverend flowed through the church, the peaceful atmosphere and his voice was interrupted by the heavy brown door that slammed behind us entering. The whole room fell silent for a beat and people turned towards us, the source of the disruption. With an awkward smile as an apology the sermon continued as usual.

“As a community, and as a family. The loss of a young person is particularly tragic. A life unlived is the saddest of passings.” The reverend begins again as we find a seat towards the back. “So, please, let us pray. For peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children.”

An odd feeling of familiarity and sadness fills my veins, my fingers twitch with the countless memories I had of what now seemed like a lifetime ago even if it really couldn’t have been more than ten years. I bow my head in prayer and respect, the act coming naturally to me. But I can’t find it in myself to actually pray, to talk to a god again.

The last time I talked to a god was when my mom died, I thought if I prayed she’d come back or at the very least the hole in my chest wouldn’t be there anymore, that he could take my pain away when I hadn’t wanted to feel that way.

I kept praying. Every night for it to change.

I never got an answer, not a sign, not a peep of comfort.

I don’t remember when I stopped believing… but I do remember praying to a God that would not answer.

****

Outside the church, people stood around talking in small groups and hugging each other before moving on to another person or leaving all together.

A brunette girl in a green and white top speaks with her slightly taller friend, and with a lasting hug their conversation is over. According to the picture Murph had shown us of Rich and Lori posing together, the brunette just had to be her.

We walk up to her, mostly confident in the matching identity, “Are you Lori?” Sam asks in confirmation.

“Yeah.” She nods.

“My name is Sam. This is my brother, Dean. And my friend, Y/N.” Dean waves a little awkwardly and I smile sweetly at the girl in front of us.

“We just transferred here to the university.” Sam explains, Lori nods “ I saw you inside.”

“We don’t wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened and…” Sam trails off eyebrows furrowed. “We wanted to say how sorry we were” Dean finishes his brother's sentence.

Sam clears his throat as if his words were hard to get out, “I kind of know what you’re going through. I-I saw someone..get hurt once. It’s something you don’t forget.” Lori nods sadly, her eyes turned down instead of the previous eye contact.

Suddenly the reverend came over to his daughter, a hand placed on her shoulder, “Dad, um, this is Sam, Dean, and Y/N. They’re new students.” The older man shakes each of our hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon.” Dean smiles, his dimple on display.

“Thank you very much. It’s so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord’s message.” He looks between the three of us.

“I was actually hoping to catch you after the sermon” I begin, my fingers ghost over Dean's hand, “We’re also new to town.” As if understanding my plan to give Sam time to talk to Lori in private Dean intertwined his fingers with mine, continuing my sentence and leading us and the reverend slightly away from his daughter, “And, uh, we were looking for a, um, a church group.”

The boys follow after me as I search through the rows of bookshelves in this large library, “So you believe her?” Dean asks his brother.

“I do.” Sam answers plainly.

“Yeah, I think she’s hot, too.” Dean smiles. I turn my head towards him slowly, giving him a sharp look, “Would you like to say that again” I smile at him. “No ma’am” He puts his hands up in defense and defeat.

“Look, man, there’s something in her eyes. And listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car.” Sam continues, ignoring what just happened.

I turn towards the boys behind me swiftly, my skirt swishing against me at my movement, “You think we’re dealing with the Hook Man?”

“Yeah I mean that’s one of the most famous urban legends ever” Dean tries to rationalize.

“Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began.” Sam replies.

“Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?” Dean asks.

“Well, maybe the Hook Man isn’t a man at all. What if it’s some kind of spirit?”

*****

The nice librarian brings over the last of the heavy boxes we asked for, the number of which I lost count of, “Here you go. Arrest records going back to 1851”, she announces placing the box down. Dean blows some dust off the box immediately coughing. A laugh escapes my lips, “What did you think was going to happen?”

The librarian walks away, Sam catching her to say thanks while Dean and I “bickered.”

He rolls his eyes at me pushing over one of the boxes towards me. I stand up from my seat to see in the box better, I pull out one of the many manila folders sitting back down to start what I know is going to be hours of research.

“So, this is how you both spent four good years of your life, huh?” Dean asks, eyebrows raised as he leaned back in his chair, a folder in his hand.

“Mhm” I hum, getting too focused to give a proper response.

“Welcome to higher education” Sam sighs as if to get comfortable.

I finished the first folder quickly as there weren't many papers in it to begin with, plus it was about a kidnapping case. I’m glad the guy got caught but it wasn’t what I was looking for, I put the folder to the side before picking up another.

“I’m sure you’re wishing hunting didn’t have so much research to it” I inquired, slightly mumbling.

“Yeah no kidding” Dean huffs

****

Hours later and multiple boxes down, Sam suddenly speaks up, “Hey, check this out. 1862. A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes.

Uh, right here, ‘some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh.’”

I leaned over to pick up a paper from the folder he was holding that he must have put to the side, “And apparently the preacher lost his hand in some sort of accident and had it replaced with, get this, a silver hook of all things.”

“Look where all this happened” Sam points.

“9 Mile Road” Dean reads.

“Same place where the frat boy was killed” Sam adds, the pieces connecting.

Dean smirks, “Nice job, Dr. Venkmen. Let’s check it out.”

The pure darkness of the night cloaks us, despite the fact we weren’t wearing all black, the trees hide us and Baby as we exit the car heading towards the rear. Dean opens the trunk and hands both Sam and I a rifle, “Here you go”. I shift the gun in my hand, opening the magazine to make sure every slot is filled with a bullet.

“If it is a spirit, buckshot won’t do much good.” Sam points out, having opened his gun magazine too.

“Yeah, rock salt.” Dean smirks, showing him a bullet cartridge as an example. “Huh. Salt being a spirit deterrent.” Sam mumbles in astonishment.

“Yeah. It won’t kill ‘em. But it’ll slow ‘em down.” Dean adds as he picks up a coil of rope from the trunk.

“You know, your brother has been quite the creator since you’ve been away at college” I acknowledge, hoping it didn’t come off as a backhanded comment. Dean winks at me as he slams the trunk shut, a slight warmth spreading on my cheeks. “No kidding, first the homemade emf and now this, you and Dad think of this?” Sam asks as we walk towards the trees.

“I told you. You don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius.” Dean's smile fades to a hardened look at the sounds of walking and rustling in the trees.

I come to a full stop, my boots skidding in the soft dirt below me, I raise my gun towards the sound and I realize to anyone else I must look a little silly wearing an outfit that includes a skirt and holding a heavy shotgun.

“Guys!” I whisper-shout at the sight of a figure approaching. Both boys appear on either side of me, Sam with the only other gun standing slightly in front.

“Put the gun down now! Now! Put your hands behind your head.” The figure yells raising his own gun as he approaches us, I curse mentally at the Sheriff. But before he can get too close I whisp the gun out of my hands, transporting it safely back to the trunk, if we were gonna get arrested at least the confiscating of one gun is better than two.

Dean and I are quick to follow the guys instructions as Sam slowly neals down to place the gun, his hands raised in defense. I would have loved to hide his gun too but the sheriff most definitely saw at least one gun, his gun.

“Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!” The Sheriff demands. Slowly I drop to my knees, the boys following, the cold dirt sinking into my exposed knees. Frick.

“Now get down on your bellies. Come on, do it!” He yells next. This is just annoying now I think to myself as I lie down. “He had the gun!” Dean throws his brother under the bus, lying down too.

“Shut it!” He yells, kicking the shot gun out of reach before rounding to the back of us. Figuring out by sound alone, he pockets his gun before patting us down thoroughly. Then he tells us to stand again and get in our car. He will follow behind us to the sheriff station and “there better be no funny business.”

****

Exiting a sheriff's office after being “arrested” is a weird experience, especially when all the cops of sorts are looking at you while whispering to each other.

“Saved your asses! Talked the sheriff down to a fine. Dude, I am Matlock.” Dean slaps his brother on the back.

“But how?” Sam asks, looking annoyed, and truthfully I'm not surprised Dean got us out of this.

“I told him you were a dumbass pledge and that we were hazing you.” Dean shrugs.

“What about the shotgun?” Sam points out.

“I said that you were hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank. And while you were ‘hunting ghosts’ I told ‘em I was gonna try and get in her pants” He motions towards me, my face flushing red with a mix of embarrassment and anger.

“Hey!” I grumble.

“And he believed you?” Sam questioned in disbelief.

“Well, you look like a dumbass pledge and she looks like an easy girl to play no offense” Dean laughs.

“Hey! Offense taken!” I say this time with actual frustration. I slap his shoulder and I know he was expecting it, old habits die hard, but he lets me hit him. “What?! You look all innocent and you’re wearing a skirt which is perfect for banging in the woods!” He says all ‘matter of factly.’

“Dean!” I yell going to slap his shoulder again this time harder but before I can reach him he clasps my wrist. Naturally I try to go at him with my other hand but seemingly reading my mind he grabs my other wrist with the same hand. Now holding both my wrists in one large hand at his side he quirks his eyebrow, I should be a little mad at him but somehow he’s able to diffuse me in a matter of second and to be fair I can’t decide where to look either his veiny hand or his eyes that seem a shade darker than usual.

Suddenly several police run out of the building and jump into their police cars before speeding away. Dean drops his hold on my wrist, the three of us exchange a look.

The car comes to a stop on the street behind the sorority house, getting out of the car we move closer to the white building. “Why would the Hook Man come here? This is a long way from 9 Mile Road” Sam brings up.

“Maybe it’s about something else.” I answer, pulling pairs of latex gloves from my pocket that I made sure to grab from my bag before leaving the car. I hand each of them a pair, Sam putting them on without question while Dean looks at me weirdly “Getting fingerprints on an active crime scene doesn't seem so smart especially when we were already found at the original crime scene” I explain, he makes of face that reads as ‘fair enough’ before he puts his own pair on.

Two sorority girls come out of a side entrance near us looking like they’ve been crying, we push up against the side of the building, the girls passing us.

“Dude, sorority girls! Think we’ll see a naked pillow fight?” Dean asks, a little too happy turning to see his brother climbing onto the balcony of the house. “Yeah cause these girls would have a pillow fight when someone just got murdered in their house” I answer in disbelief as I climb up after Sam, thank god for wearing shorts under skirts and upper body strength. As I reach the top I swing my legs over the railing straddling it before swinging my other leg around, my boots landing on the white concrete, Dean following quickly behind me.

Sam opens a window that leads into a walk-in closet, Lori’s closet, just a door away from the crime scene.

I crawl in after him, Deans right behind me except ever so not gracefully he knocks into one of the dressers.

“Be quiet” Sam snaps.

“You be quiet!” Dean bites back

“You be quiet!”

“Boys!” I whisper yell, their bickering immediately stopping though they glare at each other from the corner of their eyes.

I walk over the closet door, pulling it open slowly just enough to see a cop in the room writing down something on a notepad before leaving. I count to ten in my head before opening the door fully exposing the bloody mess of a crime scene from the walls to the bed the girl must have died in, considering the blood pool.

“‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’” Sam reads off the wall, the words written in blood, “That’s right out of the legend.”

“Yeah, that’s classic Hook Man all right.” Dean acknowledges, he taps his nose in regard to the horribly strong metallic smell, “It’s definitely a spirit.”

“I don’t think i’ve ever smelt ozone this strong before” I add, scrunching my nose from the smell, Sam nodding in agreement.

Dean walks over to the window in the room, “Hey, come here. Does that look familiar to you?”

****

Outside again, gloves disposed of, we stare at a cross symbol with little t’s or x’s in each space, a symbol that dangled from the hook-hand the preacher from our research had worn. Also the same symbol Dean had found on the windowsill and written in blood on the wall.

“It’s the same symbol. Seems like it is the spirit of Jacob Karns.” Sam confirms.

“All right, let’s find the dude’s grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down” Dean announces, going through the usual steps.

Sam reads from the yellowed paper in his hands “After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave.”

“How fun and easy” I remark sarcastically.

“Ok. So we know it’s Jacob Karns. But we still don’t know where he’ll manifest next. Or why” Sam brings up.

“I’ll take a wild guess about why. I think your little friend Lori has something to do with this.” Dean comments, getting into the driver's side of Baby.

The bass pounds loudly, the sound thumping in my chest as the bright neon lights illuminate the drunken atmosphere of college students. I weave through the crowd to get back to the main room where Sam said to meet, having barely enough time to shower, change and take a nap before night fell again and the frat party started.

Suddenly an unfamiliar hand grabs hold of my wrist pulling me back towards them. I looked up at the guy who pulled me back, a blonde spiky haired college student with a red solo cup in hand looked down at me “Where you going, pretty girl?” he asks me his breath reeking of booze. He pulls me closer, my chest nearly flushed with his, I pull my head back at an awkward angle to get away from him as I pull my wrist away. This guy really represented every reason why I rarely, if ever, went to parties as a college student, “Oh you know tryna get back to my boyfriend!” I yell over the music, finally snatching my wrist free at the lie.

“Oh.” His face falls quickly turning around to head to some other girl, I roll my eyes before continuing my way down the hall and the stairs to the foyer.

“There you are!” Sam yells over the music as I approach him, Dean not yet in sight. “Sorry! A college boy stopped me!” I replied.

“Sorry, You alright?” Sam asked with eyebrows scrunched, he apologized to me as if he was the one to do it, ever the sweetheart. I nod my head in response just as Dean approaches, “Man, you’ve been holding out on me. This college thing is awesome!” he says immediately, winking and smiling at a girl that passes by. If this didn’t show the double standard between genders then I don’t know what will.

“This wasn’t really my experience” Sam answers

“Same here!” I add, recalling every ill memory of any parties I did go to.

“Nerds” Dean scuffs.

“Yeah yeah anyways Sam what did you find?” I ask getting back on topic.

“Yeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori? So I think I came up with something.” Sam answers, unraveling a folded piece of paper he produced from his pocket.

Dean takes the paper reading the important facts, “1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage.”

“There’s a pattern here. In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out—get this—with a sharp instrument.” Sam explains

“What’s the connection to Lori?” Dean asks, face full of confusion.

“Dean. A man of religion…who openly preaches against immorality…you know Reverend Sorensen.” I clarify, a sudden look of understanding passes over Deans features. “Yeah except maybe this time, instead of saving the whole town, he’s just trying to save his only daughter” Sam adds.

“You think he’s summoning the spirit?” Dean counter.

“Maybe. Or, you know how a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend’s repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay.” Dean mumbles.

“Without the reverend ever even knowing it.”

“Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight.” Dean suggest. Sam nods in agreement, “What about you guys?”

Dean gets distracted by an attractive blonde by the pool table. I roll my eyes “We’ll go find that grave, do some digging and burning.”

****

In the dark of the night Dean and I search the large cemetery, our only light being our flashlights. He looks a little grumpy, probably because he couldn’t hook up with the many eligible bachelorettes.

I ignore his brooding, searching each gravestone for some sort of hint of him being buried here.

“Over here!” Dean calls out from a few feet away, I walk over to him seeing the same cross symbol we’ve been seeing engraved on the headstone. “Nice” I smile, putting my bag down and taking the shovel he handed to me.

I don’t know how much time goes by but we are most likely only a foot deep. Digging up a grave is hard.

“You know I read somewhere that digging up a grave can take up to like six to eight hours to complete.” I huff as I kept digging trying to make conversation.

“What kind of books do you read?” Dean exclaims, giving me a weird look as he places his shovel down to strip down to his T-shirt. I try to ignore how his muscles flex as he lifts his many layers off of him to combat the sweat he was building.

I shrug at his question, answering, “All sorts of things.” The conversation ends there as we keep digging away, the only sounds from us being huffing and grunts.

I start to take my tops off too, going down to the black lace cami I wore as an extra layer. No wonder they use a machine to do this now.

Hours must have passed before one of our shovels hit wood. His coffin. Dean and I speak at the same time our voices overlapping,

“Thank God”

“Hello preacher” Dean breaks open the casket more, the remains of bones lying there.

We climb out of the grave, dirt and sweat sticking to our clothes (so much for showering before). Dean looks especially good, sweat causing his light gray shirt to stick to his skin causing his muscles to be on display, his cheeks flushed from all his hard work. This should really be the last thing on my mind especially as we pour salt and lighter fluid on the corpse.

“Goodbye, preacher.” Dean throws the lit match into the grave, the bones and wood igniting into flames.

Dean and I walked down the hospital hall, Sam having called and told us to come to the hospital no other context other than he was okay and even that had to be pried out of him before he hung up.

I trail behind him as he tries to shove off two cops holding him back, “No, it’s alright, I’m with him. He’s my brother. Hey! Brother!” Although a little embarrassing he did get Sam and the sheriffs attention, “Let ‘em through” the sheriff announces with a careless hand wave.

The two cops haul off, “Thanks” Dean says, fixing his jacket as his brother approaches, “You ok?”

“Yeah.” Sam nods, walking back down the hall where we had come for some privacy.

“What the hell happened?” Dean asks through gritted teeth.

“Hook Man.” Sam answered plainly.

“You saw him?!” I exclaim.

“Damn right. Why didn’t you torch the bones?” Sam counters. “Hey!! We did!” I argue.

“You sure it’s the spirit of Jacob Karns?” Dean points out.

“It sure as hell looked like him. And that’s not all. I don’t think the spirit is latching on to the reverend.” Sam answered.

“Well, yeah, the guy wouldn’t send the Hook Man after himself.” Dean spoke.

“I think it’s latching onto Lori. Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman.” Sam reports.

“So she’s obviously upset about it, the immorality around it, especially from someone who quite literally preaches about that sort of sin” I ramble on, “Wow that’s like the Scarlet Letter.”

“Yeah” Sam laughs at my reference, “And she told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished.”

“Alright nerds, so she’s conflicted. And the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe he’s doing the punishing for her, huh?” Dean said.

“Right. Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair.” Sam lists out.

“Remind me not to piss this girl off. But we burned those bones, buried them in salt, why didn’t that stop him?” Dean noted.

“You must have missed something.” Sam shrugged.

“Oh frick” I gasped at the sudden realization hitting me, “The hook. Except it wasn’t in the coffin.”

“Great, so if we find the hook…”

“We stop the Hook Man.” Dean finishes smiling.

****

Back in the same library as a couple days before we once again spent hours researching.

“Here’s something, I think. Log book, Iowa State Penitentiary”, Dean reads, “Karns, Jacob. Personal affects: disposition thereof.”

“Any mention of the hook?” I ask, looking up from my papers.

“Yeah, maybe” He begins reading again, “Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner’s house of worship, St. Barnabas Church.”

“Isn’t that where Lori’s father preaches?” Sam questioned. “Yeah” Dean confirmed, “Maybe that’s why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverends’ daughters for the past 200 years.”

“But how do you miss a bloodstained silver-handled hook? Let alone in a church” I point out.

Dean shrugs, “Check the church records”

An hour or two later I came across the answer to my own question, I nearly knocked my chair over going to where the boys sat placing the clip of the newspaper down, “St. Barnabas donations, 1862, they received a silver-handled hook from the state penitentiary. It got reforged, melted it down into something else.”

“Alright, we can’t take any chances. Anything silver goes in the fire.” Dean said as he slammed the trunk shut, swinging the duffle on his shoulder. “I agree. So, Lori’s still at the hospital. We’ll have to break in.” Sam announces.

“Alright, take your pick.”

“I’ll take the house.” Sam answers pointing in that direction.

“Ok. Then you're with me Y/N” Dean smirks, swinging his arm around my shoulder pushing me closer to his side as we walk off in the other direction. “Hey Sam!” He calls out without halting in his steps, “Stay out of her underwear drawer!”

“You are disgusting” I laugh, poking his side as I speak.

****

“When someone comes back in the morning they are going to think they’ve gone crazy. I mean like imagine walking into a space you know well and suddenly only very specific items are missing like silver.” I comment as I throw more silver candelabras in the fire Dean had started in the basement's old heater thing.

“At this very moment that’s what you're thinking of?” Dean asks, raising an eyebrow at me with a smile. “I mean yeah…” I shrug.

“I got everything that even looked silver” Sam announces, coming down the stairs. “Better safe than sorry” Dean says, moving off to the side so his brother can throw his load of silver in.

Suddenly the floorboards above us creak, clear footsteps. Sam produces a gun from the back of his jeans heading up the stairs first, Dean and I following.

Up the slightly winding stairs and down a short hallway Lori sits in a pew alone. She was the source of the steps.

Dean shoves his brother forward towards the lone girl as he pockets his gun and grabs my hand leading us back down stairs. As we reach the basement I twirl towards him, “You think they’re gonna kiss by the end of all this?”

“If they haven’t already” He scuffs.

A few minutes later the quiet noise of a couple things hitting the ground sang from above us, “I swear if they are screwing upstairs-“ Dean complains looking up annoyed. Another thing hit the floor much harder, “Yeah Dean I don’t think that’s what’s happening” I say, pulling my gun back out Dean already ahead of me rushing up the stairs two steps at a time.

We sweep around each hall with no one in sight, Dean motions for us to split up. I nod, holding my gun tighter in front of me. Suddenly a yell and a gun goes off in the opposite direction from where I walked, I run towards the noise halting at the sight of Lori and Sam covering their faces on the floor up against a wall as Dean stood with his gun raised.

“You guys okay?” I ask lowering my gun slightly.

“Yeah” Sam nods, even as he holds his seemingly injured shoulder.

“Was that the Hook Man?” I question further trying to get caught up.

“I thought we got all the silver.” Sam announces instead, which was an answer enough.

“So did I” Dean adds

“Then why is he still here?” Sam exclaims, getting up from the floor.

“Well, maybe we missed something!” Dean yells looking around.

“Lori, where did you get that chain?” Sam looks at the girl's neck, a cross hanging from the chain.

“My father gave it to me” She answers confused.

“And did your father happen to get it from a church?” I ask very specifically.

“Yeah it was a church heirloom, he gave it to me when I started school.” She explains.

“Is it silver?!” Sam nearly yells.

“Yes!” She yells, Sam ripping the chain from around her neck just as a loud scratching noise echoes through the halls. The Hook Man nowhere in sight but the scratch evidence alone that he’s there, right near Sammy.

“Sam!” Dean yells throwing his rifle at Sam, he catches it throwing the necklace to his brother in turn. Dean runs off with it as Sam shoots at the scratching spot.

He tries to reload his gun just as the Hook Man appears in all his ugly glory, long greasy hair falling from a big black hat accompanied with a dirty black trench coat, he knocks the gun out of his hand. I pull the trigger, the rock salt launching from the gun and into the spirit causing him to disappear. I cock the gun ready to shoot again when he appears, except when he does his arms are raised in the air towards the sky, his hook melting to the floor, the iron dripping as the rest of his body burns into nothing.

“So you’re saying a man with a hook attacked you?” The cop asked me for the fourth time, scribbling something in his notepad. “Yes! Exactly, we fought him off as best as we could and then ran out here.” I explain, for once, truthfully to a cop. He looks like he’s about to say something when he looks back up just past my shoulder, I turn my head to see the sheriff who was talking with Dean make a hand gesture. I turned back to the cop in front of me, “Alrighty then, ma’am have a good one” he tilted his hat towards me walking away.

I walk over to Dean who’s leaning on the outside of Baby, his hands in his pockets, “You think they believe us?” he asked me. “No chance” I laugh, “They’ll probably chop it up to hysteria and crazy college students.”

He scuffs opening the back door for me, I get in smiling at him as he shuts the door and gets in on the driver side. He looks through the side mirror at his brother, sighing, “I wish things could be normal for him.”

“It won’t be for a while” I answer referring to the loss of Jessica. How could anyone move on from a loss like that?

Sam approaches the car getting in wordlessly, “We could stay.” Dean offers, Sam shakes his head no.

Dean sighs again, looking at me through the rear view mirror. I mouth ‘You tried’ to him with a sad smile.

He looks forward again with a slight frown on his face, putting the car in drive we head off.

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skzimagines · 10 months

Text

Part 4

Characters: Lee Know x Female reader

Genre: | friends to lovers |

Warnings: 18+ minors dni | smut |

Summary: After an argument between the two, Minho tries to make things right with y/n.

—————————————————————————————

“Minho.” I whisper, opening the door enough to let him in.

“Hi..” he whispers, sliding through the door, watching me as I shut and lock it. I step back, giving him some space. Crossing my arms over my chest, hugging myself. “W..what are you doing here?” I whisper. “I came to uh.. I came to say sorry.” He says, putting his hands in his pockets. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way, you were going through a lot. I should have just been there for you.” He takes a deep breath and sighs. “And uh… I shouldn’t… have uh.. told you about… how I feel.. in that way.” He scratched the back of his neck in a nervous way.

I drop my arms and throw myself into him, taking him into the biggest hug I’ve ever given. He wraps his arms around me, laying his cheek against the top of my head. “I’ve missed you so much.” I whisper into his chest. “I missed you too, more than you could imagine.” He whispers back.

We pull apart, look at each other and start laughing. I grab his hand and pull him the rest of the way into my apartment. “So.. what do you want to do?” I ask. “Anything you want to do.” He says with a smile, squeezing my hand that I had forgotten was holding his. “Movie night?” I ask with a childish grin. “Movie night.” He agrees with a smile.

•

We’re in the middle of a murder documentary when Minho suddenly laughs, making me jump. “What the hell are you laughing at?” I ask, puzzled at what he may find funny about a murderer hiding 31 bodies under his crawlspace. “Fucking amateur, I could’ve done better than that.” He laughs. I look at him like he’s crazy. “I worry about you.” I say, before turning my attention back to the show.

A few minutes pass and Minho moves to get more comfortable. Stretching out his arms and putting one around my shoulders. “That was so cliché.” I chuckle. I see a blush form on his ears. “It’s the best I could come up with.” He chuckles.

•

The show comes to an end and I walk Minho to the door. “I’ll come over tomorrow, after work. If that’s okay?” He asks while sliding his shoes on. “Yeah, that’s fine.” I say, opening the door for him. He slides out of the door, turning around to say goodbye. “So uhh.. we’re okay then? I suppose?” He asks with a small smile. “I mean, I guess so.” I say jokingly rolling my eyes. “Oh please, you know you can’t live without me.” He says, lightly pushing my shoulder. We laugh before taking each other into a hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He says, slowly pulling away. Still holding on to my waist, starting at my lips. “Yeah, tomorrow.” He catches me staring at his lips as well, he slowly moves his face closer to mine, before pressing his lips to mine. The kiss is sweet, not rough. Filled with complete love. I moan into it as he slowly pulls away. He lets out a sigh. “I’ve been waiting to do that for a very long time.” He whispers. “I wish you would have done it a long time ago.” I say back with a smile. He smiles back and let’s go of me. “Okay, so uhh.. I’ll see you tomorrow then!” He says, slowly backing up. “Okay.” I smile back. He walks down the pathway to my apartment, tripping over the crack of the sidewalk. Whispering a “oh shit.” To himself. I chuckle as I watch him walk away before shutting the door.

—————————————————————————————

Part 5

Tag list: @yumiblogs @chubbyanarkiss @chansbabygirlsstuff @multeciahucho @leaneverleaves2 @park-shina @greysweaters-blog @hwangshoneycake @jisunglyricist @armystay89 @illmakeyousaywow

#lee know x reader #lee know imagine #lee know smut #stray kids #stray kids imagine #stray kids smut #Bangchan #Changbin #hyunjin #hanjisung #leefelix #Felix #Seungmin #jeongin #i.n

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normally-o-a-k · 1 year

Text

Hey look a fanfiction

Scam/Jodie

Friends to lovers, multi chapter, no beta we die like Glenn, idk what to tag this I’ve never written fic before lmao, spoilers kinda? Some real light suggestion of Henry/Darryl.

Rating: still teen

Chap 7/? (I think it’s coming to an end soon though)

Previous chapter:

Henry was the sort of man who prided himself on helping others.

So when Scam Actually, known fun guy , stepped out of a portal a day early looking less than ecstatic he knew he had to do something.

After all not even an hour ago Jodie had confided in him, trusted him to help him romance Scam and now here he was. Something had gone wrong.

Glenn looked just as baffled “hey uh Scam, can we have a quick chat?” Glenn is not gentle about the way he shoves Scam away from the van.

Oh that was potentially bad, it wasn’t a secret that Glenn and Jodie had grown closer since he moved to the infernal plane. Co-parenting Nicky had them bonding enough to call eachother brothers. Glenn was definitely going to give him the ‘shovel talk’ or worse, he might give him the ‘shovel’.

Henry heads after them as fast as he can “Actually Glenn can I take lead on this one? I’ve led a few healing retreats for friends back in the day and I think what our friend Scam here can use is a little openness and understanding-“

“The only thing I’m going to open is a can of whoop ass on this motherfucker. What did you do?” Glenn shoves an accusatory finger in Scam’s face.

“Oooh let’s see now~ what exactly did I do?” He taps the side of his hat “I got caught~ That about sums it up I think~!” Scam grins, but Henry is more than convinced there’s a lot more to it.

“Glenn, remember, we’re listening….now, Scam what exactly did you get caught doing?” Henry puts a hand on Glenn’s shoulder, trying to keep him from outright strangling Scam

“Testing our good friend’s security~” his grin widens “even without magic it was barely a challenge, that is until I picked the wrong thing as a souvenir~”

“So you stole from him? Jeez Scam, that’s pretty hecking uncool! you know just this morning he was so excited to spend time with you and you blew it mister!”

“Yeah Henry, you tell him! How could you do that to Jodie? I knew it! I knew you were going to screw him over!” Glenn grabs Scam by the tie and pulls back a punch, but Scam is suddenly behind him, tie hanging loosely from Glenn’s hand.

“Oh how quickly you forget your own words! Weren’t you ‘listening’?~ I wasn’t stealing anything~ I was going to gift it him in the morning! It was supposed to be a show of skill and I’m beginning to see that no one is quite as impressed as they should be!”

Glenn visibly relaxes “Man can’t you just show off like a normal person? He’s not going to believe you for shit if you got caught in the vault”

“You know… Trust is a big part of every working relationship Scam, you’re going to really have to work on yourself if you want this to work buddy… I think It’s probably best if you give him some time and then try and talk to him about it”

“Sorry Henry I disagree… Scams not the type of guy to not do it again… don’t get me wrong, this idiot should definitely apologize, but I think we need to think bigger picture when it comes to him winning Jodie back. It’s not going to be the first or last time he does something like this without considering how it might come across if he screws it up.”

“I appreciate the backhanded support Glenn, I really do~ but unfortunately I just don’t think Jodie appreciates my alignment as much as I’d hoped he would~ he seems to have forgotten the ‘scamp’ part of ‘lovable scamp’~”

“Nah man, look I take like five percent, maybe seven percent responsibility for this. I warned him not to trust you and that probably got in his head… I mean you know Jodie, he doesn’t really let go of stuff. He likes you. So we just gotta figure out how you can show him he can trust you aren’t being malicious about your actions.”

Henry wasn’t as on board with encouraging Scam to make no changes to his behavior as Glenn seemed to be. “ I think maybe some reflection might be a good start… then we can worry about helping you with an Apology you actual mean and can maintain…”

Scam sits down on a log by the empty campsite, all four of his hands folded on his lap. Henry sits down next to him, putting a friendly hand on his shoulder. “You know… when my boys make a mistake and hurt someone’s feelings, I usually tell them to take a walk in the other persons shoes…. Really get into the core of what the other person might be feeling…how would you feel if someone you liked came and took something from you? Like your hat?” Henry tries to take Scam’s hat, but the second he lifts it a tiny bit it pulls back down onto Scam’s head on it’s own, Scam gives Henry a dangerous sort of smile. “Oh wow okay…that’s just part of you…maybe not your hat then.” He wipes his hand off on his cargo shorts and thinks.

“I don’t need imagination to know that He thinks I’m lying about my feelings~” Scams voice isn’t as playful as it usually is.

“Yeah well you having feelings is kinda news to all of us” Glenn shrugs.

“Glenn! That’s not helpful” Henry frowns

“It’s true though, I don’t think any of us expected Scam to come out and say he’s horny for my brother-“

“You know what I’m horny for Glenn? Acceptance. So maybe lay off a bit” Henry sighs “Look Scam, relationships are hard, but everyone here will help you, you just have to let us in pal! Open communication is key!”

———

Jodie closes the portal Immediately after he sends Scam through. And he regrets it.

Some part of him knew if Scam had succeeded in doing what he claimed he was, he would have found it kind of fun.

He wanted to trust him but he felt like he barely got the chance to try before it was tested…

He frowns and gets back to work.

——-

Scam sits in the passenger seat of the Odyssey next to Darryl who’s pulled him away from the campfire for a private talk away from the kids. It had now been over two weeks of each of the dads trying to have a heart to heart with him and give him ideas on how to apologize to Jodie in between intel gathering. It was starting to wear him out.

Darryl takes a deep breath and holds the steering wheel tightly even though the car wasn’t running. “A little over a year ago after we got back to earth I had a pretty big fight with Carol.”

“What about?~ I can’t learn any lessons from the story if I don’t know every juicy detail~” if he was going to have to hear him out he wanted dirt.

“ I told her about kissing Henry. And she was pretty pissed off at me for a while. I went to church a lot more after that, really did some soul searching and a lot of confession. I had to come to terms with the fact that maybe I’m a little curious about some things and that’s okay. I’m not ashamed of it anymore, and Carol is okay with me trying to discover more about myself…”

Scam sits up a bit straighter, he knew for a fact that Darryl was still happily married. This was potentially the conversation that could help him. “Ohh? What did you do? Church is hardly the type of solution I’m willing to try~ ”

“Well…we were going to a marriage counselor. There was a lot of stuff going on, it wasn’t just about me kissing Henry. And we talked… a lot …and I listened. I know Glenn’s going to tell you some big impressive showy thing will fix it, and Ron’ll probably tell you flowers will do it…or actually I don’t know what Ron is gonna tell you…but As much as I don’t want to admit it, Henry is right about the talking stuff. I mean, not that a nice romantic gesture will hurt the situation, but that talking stuff, phew, just knocks it out of the park…. Do you get what I’m saying?”

He hadn’t expected this advice from Darryl of all people, but it had clearly worked out for him. “I think I’ve got it just fine Darryl~”

“Good talk Scam. Oh and uh… I’ve got things for the night so… go do what you need to do. ”

Scam awkwardly pats Darryl on the back and climbs out of the van, opening a portal.

——-

Jodie was miserable.

Besides a few scattered phone calls to Glenn and Nicky he hadn’t heard much in the way of what was going on. Scam had only tried to take the phone once, but Jodie had hung up before he could say anything.

He regretted that too.

He missed Scam.

Most of all he was angry with himself. He should have just given him the benefit of the doubt. He shoves open his office door, stress eating peanut butter directly out of the jar, stopping with the spoon in his mouth when he sees a pile of junk on his desk.

He sits down and sighs, sorting through the pile. A red string, a few shells, an apple, some maple leaves, white feathers and a few roses sit in a sloppy pile on his desk. He picks up one of the feathers, twirling it between his clawed fingers. The second his hands clear the area a heart shaped rock drops from the ceiling above his desk and cracks the wood.

Jodie looks up, watching a long fingered hand disappear back into a portal oh the ceiling above his desk. “What is this?”

There’s no answer, the hand returns, dropping a heavy looking padlock onto the pile. Jodie grumbles and grabs Scam’s wrist, pulling him down through the portal.

Scam lands on his back on the desk, clearly surprised by being yanked through. “Ohh? This is a little forward Jodie~” he rolls to his side, smirking “I missed you too~”

Jodie doesn’t let go of Scam’s wrist, he looks down at him disapprovingly. “What’s with the pile of junk?”

Scam sits up “Well Actually-“ he shakes it off, now wasn’t the time… ”it’s hardly junk Jodie! That you’re holding is a feather from a dove~ each thing I’ve brought is a symbol of love!” He grins and puts a hand to his chest.

Jodie sits back down thinking about it for a second, a blush creeping up his face. “Look, I’ll hear you out okay? But you aren’t going to lie to me…. And I need to know you aren’t going to lie to me…”

Scam could feel the magic pushing out from Jodie, he doesn’t resist, letting himself be completely effected by his zone of Truth. “Oooh? I’m a ‘willing creature’ so no worries there~ if you hadn’t thought to cast it I was going to ask for it! we’re so on the same page~! ” he shifts on the desk to face Jodie and reaches out for his hand. “I wish you knew you could trust in me, but I know I’m not the type of guy to make it easy~”

Jodie let’s him take his hand. “It’s been weeks…”

Scam presses a finger to Jodie’s lips “I wasn’t stealing from you~ I thought you’d be impressed if I got in and out since you’d banned me from magic! I was only taking it as proof~” he grins “there now, see, it’s all fixed! you know I’m telling the truth so you can get back to being the fun Jodie that I’m so fond of~”

“It’s not ‘all fixed’ Scam… so dating me…. Wasn’t a game to see ‘if you could’ seduce me?” Jodie frowns. He’d been dreading the answer to this one for the entire two weeks.

“I have standards Jodie, I would never do something so reprehensible~” though it hurt a bit that Jodie thinks he’s willing to do something so awful, he supposes he’s not done much to show him otherwise. “especially not to you…you’re a pretty special guy~ I don’t think I need to tell you why~”

“You do though…you need to tell me why” Jodie sits a bit further back in his chair

“I’ve lived a long time Jodie…You know you’re the only person currently alive to have seen my true face?” Two of Scam’s hands grab the arm rests of Jodie’s chair and he leans in pulling the chair closer. “Do you know why that is?~”

“Because you take dares seriously” he was starting to feel a bit trapped in his chair.

“Bzzzzz! Wrong! I could have chosen to lose! And I would have if anyone else had asked~” he smiles “You’re a smart man Jodie~ think back…. Darryl asked once before…. Why did I say no? Hmm~??”

“You said… it was only for people you really care about” his blush creeps a bit higher.

“Bingo!~” he grins “I really care about you~”

“Scam….I…” he believes him…holding his hand a bit tighter.

“Wait, let me finish~ I need to let you know all of my feelings and then listen”

“Henry gave you a talking to huh?”

“All of the Daddies took a swing at a heart to heart~ surprisingly Darryl made the difference…it’s been awful! If one more person corners me to tell me how to apologize-“

“Scam…the ‘letting me know your feelings’ thing is working…” he smiles a bit.

“ well then~! I’ll keep going~” he lets go of Jodie’s hand, rolling the office chair to a bit of a distance from where he was sitting with his foot.

“What are you-“

“It’s for my safety~ Got to keep my looks if I want to be a good match for you~” he smiles sitting back on the desk “Jodie~ I love you”

Scam was right to move the chair back because Jodie instantly ignites.

“That really is adorable~” he watches Jodie’s expression shift from shock to affection and then settle on concern. “Relax~ I don’t expect you to say it back~”

Jodie can barely hear Scam over his own heartbeat drumming loudly in his ears. But he does relax, and after a bit of silence the flames slowly go out. “I’m… sorry… I like you a lot… I’m serious about you, I just-“

“Don’t apologize!“ He knew it was going to be too soon for Jodie but he wanted him to know. “I can’t change who I am, I can’t promise you I won’t upset you again with a poorly timed joke or a particularly artful scam gone wrong~ but I can promise you that I won’t ever lie about my feelings for you~”

“That’s … more than good enough Scam” Jodie smiles, reaching out for his hand again.

Scam climbs off the desk and puts a hand on The headrest of Jodie’s chair, spinning it as he circles him. “I also promise to wait until the right time to tell you about the more salacious things I feel for you~”

“And… now’s not that time?” Jodie smiles and pulls him close by one of his wrists, kissing him softly.

Scam smiles into the kiss and then breaks it, pulling back only a few inches “It’s absolutely not the right time~ you’d torch the entire room~”

Scam was probably right, Jodie could already feel the heat rising in his face again.

“Have I earned forgiveness~?” He watches him carefully.

“Yeah Scam, we’re good” Jodie smiles and pulls him down into the chair for a hug.

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #dnd dads #dndads s2 #dndads spoilers #dnddads #scam actually #scam likely #dndads season 2 #dndads fanfic #dungeons and daddies fan fiction #jodie x scam #scam x jodie #jodie/scam #scamster #scam/jodie #scodie #dndads tax evasion

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ficbrish · 1 year

Text

10 Random Lines Tag

Thank you @tealenko for the thought/tag! I love doing these tag games.

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people.

I will have to treat chapters of multi-chaptered fics as different fics. I think I have like seven different fics, but I have more than ten chapters currently posted.

Please mind the ratings/warnings if you click on the links to the fics!

1. Weekend, Chapter 1 - Mass Effect - Shepard x Kaidan

“I’m not—Did you get my letter?” [Kaidan]

He was struggling to pick a lane. Oh God, she was right there. Just like the last time, he was losing control.

“I did,” Shepard admitted, disarmed.

“You didn’t answer it.”

“I couldn’t.”

* * * * *

2. Breaking Regs - Mass Effect - Shepard x Kaidan

A few steps later, he kissed her when no one was looking. It felt like hell to tear himself away from her and continue walking. They walked and talked in a shared daydream, detached from the reality around them, and a need broiled between them that was left unspoken.

They’d almost forgotten the purpose of their stroll, and suddenly it hit Kaidan.

* * * * *

3. Hanar Hats for the Birthday at the End of the World - Mass Effect - Shepard x Kaidan

“Uh oh,” Wrex shouted playfully from the other side of the table. “Here she comes!”

He gestured to Shepard, who was doing something with her hips and hands. The way she moved about had absolutely nothing to do with the beat of the currently-playing song.

“It’s not a birthday party without some grooves,” she danced, inviting everyone else to do the same.

* * * * *

4. Weekend, Chapter 2 - Mass Effect - Shepard x Kaidan

“May I join you?” [Kaidan] asked, dangling [Shepard] so effortlessly she felt weightless.

He felt her hair brush between his thighs in response.

“Are you nodding your head?” he asked, trying to see past her bottom.

* * * * *

5. Weekend, Chapter 3 - Mass Effect - Shepard x Kaidan

“So,” [Kaidan] said, “How are you going to save the world this time?”

“If I told you the details, you’d never let me leave this room.”

“That’s not true, I’d let you use the bathroom.”

* * * * *

6. Weekend, Chapter 4 - Mass Effect - Shepard x Kaidan

She took his hand, bit her lip, and looked into his adoring eyes.

“I kind of want to show you though,” she said, pulse racing.

The tenderness in Kaidan’s eyes sharpened into want.

“Are you sure, Shepard?”

* * * * *

7. Weekend, Chapter 5 - Mass Effect - Shepard x Kaidan

“Uuuhhh? I don’t know. It’s been two years for you and only a few months for me.” [Shepard]

“Sleeping Beauty,” [Kaidan] agreed, grinning and moving some hair out of her face.

“Yeah," she laughed, "Pretty much.”

* * * * *

8. Weekend, Chapter 6 - Mass Effect - Shepard x Kaidan

“Wow,” [Shepard] said, water dripping down her face.

“I know,” [Kaidan] responded confidently.

“That’s new.”

“I’ve improved since I last saw you, Shepard.”

“Apparently!”

* * * * *

9. Weekend, Chapter 7 - Mass Effect - Shepard x Kaidan

Garrus, the largest of them, was curled up and leaning against Tali, who was the smallest and in the middle. Liara was snug in the bench's corner up against the wall, taking up more space than the other two with her legs spread out.

Shepard patted Kasumi on the shoulder, “Mind if I go join them?”

“Of course! I’ll be good up here alone.” She looked up at Shepard and winked, “I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

* * * * *

10. Weekend, Chapter 8 - Mass Effect - Shepard x Kaidan

Kaidan clutched his datapad, holding it in front of him. Shepard put her fingers on her keyboard.

Maybe it was just a message away.

They each took a deep sigh. The same few seconds in the universe passed.

* * * * *

Tagging: @acciokaidanalenko @nowandthane @halesshepardn7 @ljandersen @elfishtales @gabrielrexiel @crescentbunny @lauraceaaee @ghostxofxartemis @mrsd-writes

#shenko #10 lines #fic game #mass effect #BrishFics #Kaidan Alenko #weekend fic #breaking regs fic #Hanar Hats Birthday fic

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gible-love-nibles · 1 year

Text

The Start of Team Soup (Pt. 1)

YIPPIE, PMD AU story time! I am just blasting y'all with stories rn huh. I hope you guys like this as much as I did writing it. PMD is always a good time for me.

Also here is the quiz if you want to read that

Word Count: 1.9K

Taglist: Taglist: @caracello @librarian-lover @halsdaisy @pvssinboots @gloomy-selfships [If you want to be added, click here!]

(Please reblog! I like reading tags :])

Next thing I knew, I was overlooking a small forest. Bird Pokemon flew high in the sky, I could hear Bug types buzzing. ...I also noticed I didn’t have wings of my own.

I shrieked as I felt myself plummet to the ground like a stone. Luckily, I landed on a branch, which comically catapulted me away into another part of the forest. And that’s how it went for a few minutes: getting flung around and battered by trees.

Finally, I landed on solid ground in a little clearing. Unfortunately, I was too tired and injured to try and stand up, so I just lay there, feeling the soft grass on my belly.

…

Coincidentally in that same forest, a Squirtle with a red scarf was whistling a tune, looking around for berries.

“🎵I might trigger an alarm, but I’ll never come to harm… Ba-naa-nanananana, something about… my mom…🎵 I think? ...Still needs work.”

Picking a particularly large Sitrus Berry, the Squirtle headed deeper into the wood and came upon a clearing. With a battered Pokemon sitting in the middle of it.

They were of course alarmed by the discovery, letting out a noise of surprise. Cautiously, they approached, picking up a stick and poking the unconscious Pokemon with it.

“Uh… you’re okay, right? Not… dead? C’mon, wake up! What the heck happened to you?” Finally, the injured Pokemon opened up their eyes and stood up shakily. “Whew! That’s a relief!”

The other blinked to get used to the bright sun shining down on them, but at least the pain was getting weaker. “Where… am I…?”

“This is Tiny Woods. You were just passed out here. Did you get into a fight or something?”

Finally, they noticed the Squirtle. The talking Squirtle. Talking to them. ...They guessed they would just have to roll with it.

They tried to remember what had happened before, but all they ended up getting were waves of pain. They rubbed their head to try and alleviate it. The Squirtle flinched in what they hoped was sympathy.

“I… don’t really remember.”

“I guess you got conked pretty good, huh?”

“Yeah…”

The Squirtle suddenly had an epiphany. “...Wait. Who are you? I’ve never seen you around here before.”

Well luckily, that was one thing they did remember. “That’s because I’ve never been around here before. I’m Clare, and I’m…” She bit her lip. Would this Squirtle believe it? It wouldn’t hurt to try. “...a human,” she finished.

The Water-type stared blankly at her. “But you’re a Chikorita.”

Clare hadn’t noticed earlier, but the “hand” she was using to rub her head was actually a small, pointy foot with a nail at the end. Her body proportions felt all wrong; her head was too big compared to everything else. And there were weird feeling lumps on her neck. A sudden gust of wind blew behind her, sending a chill down her back and a giant leaf to smack her in the face. A leaf that was definitely attached to her head.

She was too hurt to have a giant reaction, but there was no denying it. She was a Pokemon and definitely not a human. But… why?

“Well… I was a human. But now, for some reason, I’m not,” she said, blowing the leaf off her face.

The Squirtle “uh-huh”-ed with much suspicion.

The silence that ensued would have been uncomfortable, if not for the shout that came from behind. “Somebody! Please! Help me!” The two of them whirled around to see a Butterfree fluttering around madly with bruises on its body.

Clare hurried up to the Butterfree, injuries all forgotten. “What happened?”

“It’s horrible! My Caterpie fell into a cavern! My poor baby!”

“Fell into a cavern?” The Squirtle asked, quickly joining Clare’s side.

“A huge fissure opened in the ground, and my Caterpie fell in!” The Bug-Flying type explained. “He’s too young to crawl out by himself! When I went to get my baby, Pokemon suddenly attacked me!”

“You got attacked by other Pokemon?!” The Water-type parroted with a twinge of nervousness. A knot started to curl around in Clare’s stomach.

“They must be enraged by the fissure… and out of control! That’s what I think. I’m not strong enough to fend off those wild Pokemon… What will become of my baby?”

Without another word, the Chikorita charged to where the Butterfree came from: into the cavern.

“H-Hey! Where are you going?!” The Squirtle’s question fell on deaf ears. With a sigh, it hurried after the Grass-type.

...

Standing at the beginning of the dungeon, Clare started to plot a course when she heard hurried footsteps behind her.

“Don’t you know mystery dungeons are dangerous?!” The Squirtle chided her when they caught up. “It’s full of angry Pokemon and the layouts are super confusing! It’s easy to get lost and tired and-”

As they were talking, the entrance of the dungeon closed behind them. The Water-type started to panic. “Great! Just GREAT! Now I’m stuck in a mystery dungeon with angry Pokemon and a crazy Chikorita!”

“And if you don’t want to stay stuck in here, you’d better follow me,” Clare sassed as she walked away into one of the narrow corridors.

Well, that left the turtle pressed for options. They decided to follow.

The two of them walked in silence for a bit, Clare in front, Squirtle behind.

“...Sooooo, you never told me your name,” the Grass-type said, trying to get a conversation rolling.

“Giovanni.”

“What were you doing out in the woods if you knew there was a dangerous ‘mystery dungeon’?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to go into the dungeon! I was just trying to find some berries!”

“Oh.”

They continued for a little while in silence until Giovanni perked up.

“Hey… Why did you run into here?”

“...I dunno, I just… couldn’t bear thinking about that kid being lost in here with no one to help them.”

The Water type nodded.

They continued exploring the dungeon, fighting off wild Pokemon until they came to a dead end… and a Caterpie. The poor kid was crying. “Mommy… Where are you?” The little one sniffled.

Clare approached the Caterpie carefully. “Hey, we came to rescue you.”

The Bug type turned around with tears in his eyes. “Huh?”

“Your mother’s waiting right outside here. Let’s get you home.”

Instantly, that picked up his mood. “Ok.” He crawled onto Clare’s back, and within a few minutes, the three found an exit and brought the Caterpie back to his worried mother.

“My baby’s safe… I’m sorry, I don’t know how I could ever thank you properly…” The Butterfree sputtered.

“With praise and HPM-” Clare cut Giovanni off by whipping her leaf in his face.

“We don’t need anything, ma’am. We’re just glad he’s ok.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, that comes first,” Giovanni backtracked hurriedly.

“Please, could I at least have your names?” The mother asked.

“Well, I’m Giovanni-” The Squirtle puffed out his chest before Clare could say a word. “-and this cool kid is Clare.”

“...He thinks I’m a “cool kid” after I accidentally dragged him into a mystery dungeon?” Clare thought.

The little Caterpie stared at them with big shiny eyes. “... … … Cool…” Clare looked a bit embarrassed by the adoring look, while Giovanni lapped it up. “Thank you! Giovanni and Clare!”

“I know it really isn’t much, but this is a token of our thanks. Please accept it.” The Butterfree handed the Squirtle an Oran Berry, a Pecha Berry, and a Tiny Reviver Seed. Giovanni put them in the basket he had been using to pick berries earlier. “Thank you so much again. Goodbye.”

“Bye! Stay out of trouble, Caterpie!” Clare bade them farewell as the mother and son went off, and it felt a fluffy feeling in the Grass-type’s chest.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?!” Giovanni sprung the question once the two were gone.

“Huh?”

“You were just taking out those guys left and right! It was AWESOME!”

“...Instinct?”

“Well, it’s good instinct then! ...But what are you going to do now? Do you have somewhere to go?” She did not! And the look on her face confirmed it. Giovanni hummed in thought. “Well, if you don’t have a place to stay… then follow me!”

…

The house in front of the two of them looked like it had seen better days. The grass out front was brown and wilted in big patches, and big bushes grew over nearly the entire perimeter. The house itself looked like it had been battered by storms and had never been properly fixed with holes in the walls and roof.

“At least it’s pretty green…?” Giovanni weakly noted.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

“Hey, I never said the place was going to be five-star! The town was going to tear this place down!”

“But they lent it out to you?”

“Yeah… but…”

“But… what?”

“There was a condition. I needed to make it a rescue team base.”

“A what?”

“You know that fissure Caterpie fell into? Lots of disasters like that have been happening recently, and it’s been riling Pokemon up like crazy! And a whole lot more are getting hurt, or worse. With the high-ranking rescue teams being sent out to solve big problems, they need as many teams as they can get!”

“And you were going to be one of those teams?”

“Well… not, originally… I was just going to make it a place for me and my buddies to live, but… after seeing you jump into action to help that Butterfree, without thinking about yourself… It made me think. Do I want to be the person who needs help, or gives it? So… why not you and me make a rescue team together? I mean, at the very least, if we do jobs, we can get money to fix the house.”

Clare stared down at the ground in deep thought. She didn’t have a clue how she had gotten here. She was a human-turned-Pokemon in a strange new world. From how it sounded, rescue teams traveled the world, solving problems for others. ...Maybe seeing the world would help her with her memory. And helping people was never a bad thing, right?

“...I think you have yourself a deal, Giovanni.”

The Squirtle whooped and cheered. “Alright!!! As of today, we’re a rescue team! We’re gonna take the world by storm!!!”

...The wind blew some stray leaves around.

“So… now what?”

“Oh. Right. Well, every rescue team has a name to differentiate each other. We could be……… CG! Clare + Giovanni!” Clare shook her head. “Yeah, mashing names together is pretty unoriginal. Uh…… Something to do with our elements! Leaf Water! No, Tree-luge! Maybeee-”

“Soup.”

“Soup?”

“Yeah, ‘cause there’s the broth— that’s the water— and then there’s the vegetables— that’s the grass-ish. ...You know what soup is, right?”

“‘Course I know what soup is! But… Do you really think Rescue Team Soup will be taken seriously?”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

“....................No.”

“Then Rescue Team Soup it is! It’s already rolling off the tongue for me!”

“It’s really going to have to grow on me.” Giovanni suddenly perked up though. “Oh, wait! One more thing!” He pulled out a yellow scarf that was lining his basket. “Here! We don’t have to match, but since I’m always wearing my scarf, it makes sense that you should wear one too.” He wrapped it right above the buds around Clare’s neck, tying it in the front. “Heyyy, not bad! I was thinking, ‘We should probably both have red,’ but that yellow looks good on you!”

She looked down (as much as she could manage). The colors worked together surprisingly well.

#🐉🎮.txt #clare's writing #pmd au #team soup #i had SO much fun with the dialouge

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Laisse tomber les filles 5

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; tags to be added as story progresses

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: That slow creep, tho

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You looked down at your body and fidgeted. The skirt was so short you pulled on a pair of stockings in an effort to hide your legs, and it was tight like the blouse. Both pieces seemed to be just a size too small. The boots were higher than any heels you’d worn before and you felt awkward in the get-up.

Noon. That was when he told you the night before as he kept stalling you from leaving. Every time you were ready to push open the car door, he had something else to say. You agreed to noon just to appease him so you could run and hide in your dorm.

You pulled on your long pea coat and stuffed your textbooks into your canvas bag with the leather straps. You hiked it up on your shoulder and slung your pocketbook from your other. You stepped out into the hallway and wobbled on the heels. You clung to the handle as you kept yourself upright.

“Wow, you look special,” Gina remarked as she peeked through the kitchen door.

“Um, thanks,” you pulled your coat closed and buttoned it, “it’s… new.”

“It’s cute,” she said as Lisa came to peek through the doorway as well.

“Where are you going?” the second girl asked.

“To study,” you said as you carefully made your way to the heavy door that led to the stairwell.

“Oh, study, huh?” she teased, “can’t be alone then.”

“I’m gonna be late,” you kept your chin down.

“Don’t let us hold you up,” Gina said as you opened the door and stepped out.

“I didn’t know she had anywhere to go,” Lisa’s trilled and her voice slipped into the hall just before the wood slid back into the frame.

You exhaled through your nose and braced the railing for your slow and treacherous descent. As you got to the bottom, you teetered and pressed yourself to the wall as two girls came through the door. You watched them flit up the stairs and scurried out into the spring air.

The weather was as bitter as before. It smelled like wet grass and mud. The sun beamed down warmly and made you sweat in your jacket. You gripped the strap of your bag and cleared the single step to even ground.

“Honey,” the voice drew your eyes up from your boots and you blinked.

The sheriff stood by his cruiser as he watched you. He didn’t wear his uniform, instead a pair of grey slacks and pure white button-up under his usual leather. He smiled and came to the end of the walk as you hesitantly closed the gap. Your heel caught in a crack and you stumbled. He caught you and gave a soft laugh.

“You okay?” he asked as he held your elbow in one hand and his other went to the small of your back.

“I’m fine,” you righted yourself and parted from him, “just didn’t see the crack.”

“Here,” he tugged on your heavy knapsack, “let me take this.”

You let him, unsure what to say. He was early. Your watch assured you he was a whole twenty minutes ahead of schedule. Your own timing was purely habit as you hated to keep others waiting.

“Thank you,” you squeaked as he put the bag in the back seat.

“So, can I see it?” he asked as he shut the door.

“What?” your brows knitted in confusion.

“The clothes,” he said lightly, “that is what you’re hidin’ under there, right?” he pointed at a large round button on your pea coat, “it’s too warm to be wearin’ all that.”

“Can I wait… until we’re at your, um, place?” you clutched the round collar of your coat anxiously.

“Oh, for my eyes only, huh,” he teased with a wink.

“No, I just… can we go?”

“Course, honey,” he brushed by you and opened the front door, “get in.”

You sat and pulled your legs in, hooking them around the edge of the seat stiffly as you crossed one over the other. The door closed and you picked at the metal clasp of your pocket book and chewed your lip. Why were you doing all this? You were an adult, he said it himself, you could say no…

You glanced around, his sheriff’s hat sat on the dashboard and you shook your head. No, you couldn’t. He was a cop and your discomfort wasn’t a reason to be uncourteous. Your mother always told you to push yourself out of your safe zone. She hated how you always held yourself back because you were scared. It was difficult enough to get you out of the house and into a dorm.

Once he was in the car, there was no turning back. You coudn’t lie about feeling sick or claim a forgotten study group, you were on your way and suddenly you were filled with panic. What if he wasn’t taking you to his house? Did that star on his hat really mean he was a good person?

“Um,” the syllable slipped from you nervously.

“What is it, hon?” he asked as he gripped the grooved wheel.

“Um, I don’t…” you stuttered as you searched for words. You couldn’t let him know what you were really afraid of, “so, uh, I would’ve thought that… you have a wife?”

His brows flicked up as you peeked over at him. He pushed his bottom lip out and hummed. He clicked his tongue and sighed.

“Well, I did,” he admitted, “but I don’t like to talk about it too much. She, er, she’s married to my deputy now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said quietly, “I didn’t…”

“It’s all over now,” he shrugged, “you know, I’ve moved on. We’re both happier for it.”

“That’s… good, then,” you murmured.

“Must be, I met you,” he smiled, “huh?”

“Well, I…” your hand shook and hid it up your sleeve, “I don’t know, I’m a bit young, aren’t I?”

“Young?” he said, “you don’t act it. You’re a lot more mature than lots of ladies I know. The way you carry yourself… you work hard I can tell. I don’t see your age, just a good woman.”

“Hmm,” you pursed your lips tightly.

“I mean it,” he insisted, “you got character beyond your age.”

“Thank you, but I… I don’t know,” you picked at the cuff of your coat.

“You brought your books?” he said, “must’ve. That bag sure is heavy. I got a place for ya all set up.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll be workin’ on supper, I hope you don’t mind the noise,” he drawled, “you know, I don’t cook often so I might be a bit… lost.”

“You don’t have to cook for me,” you offered, “really, it’s… too much.”

“I wanna, honey,” he said, “ain’t it special? A fellow cookin’ for his lady?”

“Uh, oh,” you frowned, “sure.”

“And you can turn the radio on if you like,” he continued, “it’s new.”

You nodded and listened meekly. Every argument you had for him was quickly shot down. He was so good at telling you how you were wrong or what to do while making it feel like good advice. Each demand, each want, was presented as common sense. It was impossible to argue with him because deep inside, you couldn’t argue with yourself.

While your gut told you something was off, your head assured you of your paranoia. You didn’t know any better, did you? You didn’t know how these things worked, how men and women got along, so of course it would feel strange to you. But he knew and he was so confident about it, he must be right.

📚

Lee’s house was nice, just outside the city limits. It reminded you of the suburban homes you passed on your way to high school in your hometown. You only ever lived in an apartment with your parents and so found the place extravagant compared to boxy until attached hallways noisy with troublesome neighbours.

He led you onto the porch, the wood painted white, and opened both the screen door and thicker wood one ahead of you. You were forced to brush against him as you entered. He was quick to trail you, the screen snapping shut behind him. He hung his leather coat and tugged on the back of your collar as he plunked down your bookbag.

“Go on then,” he said, “let me see it, honey.”

You closed your eyes and steeled yourself. You forced a smile as you undid the first button and slowly turned to him. You unhooked each until the coat fell open and you let it fall down your arms. You quickly swept it up and he took it to hang beside his own.

He faced you and gripped your shoulders as he looked down at you. You shied away as his eyes roved down your body and you took a step back as you crossed your arms.

“They’re a bit tight,” you said.

“You look mighty fine,” he slithered, “look like they fit just nice.”

“Erm,” you rocked on the balls of your feet.

He smiled and knelt to untie his shoes. You unzipped the boots and stepped out of them, stretching your arches as before you brought them flat. You pushed them beside his shoes as his strong cologne tickled your nose.

“Just in here, honey,” he waved you through a doorway, “come on.”

He went back to grab your bag and pointed you in ahead of him as he returned to you. He went to the sofa and dropped the bag on the cushion.

“You can get settled in,” he sidled away from the coffee table, “the radios there,” he gestured to the console table along the wall, “record player too.”

“Thanks, I should be fine,” you neared and sat on the edge of the couch.

“I’ll be through there, in the kitchen,” he peeked over at another door, “you need anything, just holler.”

“I will,” you twined your fingers through each other, “thank you.”

He smirked and shoved his hands in his pockets as he lingered on the other side of the table, “you do look nice in that,” he looked you up and down again, “you don’t even need the stockings with how warm it’s gettin’.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled and brought your fingers to tap your lip, “guess I should get started.”

You reached for the flap of your book bag and slid out a heavy textbook. You sensed him watching you before his feet slowly turned away and he strode from the room. You opened the book and flipped through the pages mindlessly.

This house was far enough from the city, far enough that you were stranded, and much of the area was new to you. The realisation made you tremble as you counted the page numbers.

#lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #fic #dark fic #series #laisse tomber les filles #dark!fic #the devil all the time #au #college au

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Chapter Five: Paris Revealed (Stories/Memories)

AO3

Marinette flinches back as the room erupts in shouting. The younger boy, who was definitely younger than her and yet almost (if not definitely) taller than her, was fiercely glaring while he screamed at Mr. Wayne in….was that Arabic? The man that walked in with him was waving around the knife in his hand while Dick yelled at Mr. Wayne, his face filled with confusion instead of fury. Glancing around for a way out, Marinette makes eye contact with Alfred who nods behind him. Sneaking away from the group of angry men, Marinette follows Alfred into the kitchen and instantly feels at home. And much calmer.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles, breathing deeply to avoid spiraling again. Alfred simply hands her a cookie before turning around and putting water in a kettle.

“There is no need to apologize, Miss Marinette. It seems Master Bruce has forgotten all sense today and is instead insistent on acting like a fool. It was wrong of him to announce you like that, without preparing you or the boys beforehand. I do hope that his atrocious display of proper manners doesn’t make you want to leave.” Alfred says, and Marinette’s eyebrows shoot upwards. Was he? Was Alfred actually blaming this situation on Mr. Wayne? Was it Mr. Wayne’s fault? Did he not actually hate her? Did he just make a mistake?

“I- what?” Marinette says, unsure of herself.

“You, my dear, are not at fault. Your father didn’t tell any of his sons that you were coming to the manor today, or that you existed in general. And judging by your face, you weren’t prepared for the boys to be here either.” Alfred clarifies.

“Oh. No, I wasn’t. Mr. Wayne just said that he wanted to get to know me, and he knew I wanted to get to know him. I- my birth mother passed away. But my Maman knew her, so I can find out from her how I’m similar to Bridgette. But neither of my parents knew Mr. Wayne, and I just wanted to know if I was like him, I guess. I didn’t even know who he was until two days ago.” Marinette admits.

“As in you found out Bruce Wayne was your birth father two days ago or-” Alfred trails off, waiting for her to clarify.

“Oh no. I found out the name of my birth father awhile ago. It’s just- I really don’t pay attention to celebrities. The only ones I really know are designers. So I didn’t put two and two together, and I didn’t even know about Bruce Wayne and Wayne Enterprises until a few days ago. My friend Adrien made me google him and that’s when I found out about...the boys.” She says, stopping herself from saying her brothers as she was still unsure if Mr. Wayne actually wanted her like he wanted the others.

“Well I’m certain that things will start to calm down shortly. In the meantime, would you care for some tea?” Alfred asks, holding up the kettle. Marinette nods gratefully, trying hard to stop her inner spiral from drowning her.

---

“What do you mean daughter?” Damian snarls, finally switching to English. Bruce blinks at the boy before sighing.

“I mean, you have a biological sister.” He says, tired and wishing he had been able to convince Marinette to go somewhere else. Not that he didn’t want her to meet her siblings. But it definitely wasn’t the laid back first meeting that he wanted.

“You mean half-sister.” Damian spits out, crossing his arms and sticking his nose into the air.

“Shut up, Demon Spawn. She’s our sister, get over it. Where’d the kid come from? Her mom drop her off?” Jason asks, obviously trying to actually understand the situation.

“No. I first met her at the Museum and had my suspicions. She’s in Gotham on a class trip, and before you ask, yes. We had a DNA test done and yes, I am her father.” Bruce says, frowning when he sees Dick’s hurt expression morph into one of excitement.

“Wait, wait, wait! Was she the girl who was sassing the Joker?” He asks quietly, practically buzzing with excitement. When Bruce nods, Dick cheers and runs from the room. Okay then.

“Wait, she met the Joker?” Jason asks, his expression turning dark. Bruce watches his son’s face morph into one of disgust when he puts it together. “She’s the French kid he had at gunpoint, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Which is one of the reasons why we both thought the manor would be a more appropriate meeting place rather than somewhere public.” Bruce says, sighing as Damian once again starts screaming. This was not what he had planned.

---

After just a few minutes with Alfred, Marinette already felt calmer. Calm enough to giggle at another story about something that one of the boys- one of her brothers- did. Calm enough to let her guard down. And mess up.

“If you wanna see something ridiculous, you should look up the 26th time Monsieur Ramier was akumatized into Monsieur Pigeon. He made all the buildings turn into bird cages and all the food turned into bird seed. Luckily it didn’t last long, but seeing the Mayor of Paris stuck inside a giant bird cage was kind of hilarious.” Marinette rambles, giggling at the memory. It was definitely a needed akuma, situated right between two super destructive akumas. Monsieur Pigeon was, while a nuisance, always a breath of fresh air. His akumatized form was brought on by his fierce protectiveness of the pigeons, which luckily never led to death for civilians.

“Pardon me, Miss Marinette, but could I ask what you mean by ‘akumatized’?” Alfred asks, his posture suddenly stiff. Marinette’s eyes widen as she realizes what she just did. She told someone outside of Paris about the situation happening in Paris. Well crap. Normal Parisians didn’t know about the media block that she had set up with the help of the Mayor and Max. But after her calls to the Justice League were ignored, and she realized how disastrous it would be for a member of the League to be akumatized, the media block was the best choice. Time to act clueless.

“Akumatized, as in, a person is possessed by an akuma? Surely you’ve heard of it. It’s been happening in Paris for almost two years.” She says, hoping he doesn’t ask to see any evidence. This isn’t good, this is awful, this-

“And what is an akuma?” Alfred asks. Okay, this isn’t too bad.

“It’s an evil butterfly sent out by the villain, Hawkmoth.” Marinette says, giving out more information than she’s really comfortable with. Okay, time to change the subject, no more questions about heroes or villains or-

“Marinette!” A new voice calls, sliding into the kitchen, almost immediately falling over.

“Master Dick, have you forgotten about your ban on the kitchen?” Alfred asks, his lips quirking up in amusement.

“Awww, Alfred, I just wanted to talk to Marinette. I feel bad for all of us overwhelming her back there.” Dick says with a pout that somehow doesn’t look ridiculous on him. Despite obviously being at least ten years older than her.

“Don’t feel bad. It was just...a lot all at once.” Marinette says with a small smile.

“So I have to ask, are you the one who sassed the Joker at the Museum the other day?” He asks, a wide grin on his face as he sits on one of the stools. Marinette’s eyes widen and she blinks. How?

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess. It wasn’t a big deal though. He thought I was a Wayne- well, I guess he figured it out before I did- but I think he just wanted to scare my class.” She says, waving her hand to brush off the topic. She really didn’t want to talk about the Joker. Because she was sure it would turn into-

“I apologize for asking, but have you been caught up in the villain attacks in Paris before?” Alfred asks, Marinette instantly panicking. Sure, she’d been caught up in almost every single akuma battle as Ladybug. But there were a few on record where she was targeted as Marinette, and even a few battles that she assisted as Marinette. And then there was Kwami Buster…

“Well, a few. But basically everyone in Paris has dealt with it at some point. That’s just what happens when there’s an attack so often, you know? And my school seems to be a hotspot but that makes sense because teenagers are full of negative emotions and-” Marinette cuts off her rambling, cursing herself on the inside. Great job, Mari. Now they’re going to be worried or they’re going to think you’re a freak or-

“What do you mean negative emotions? Why would that matter?” Dick asks, his previous cheerful smile replaced with a look that clearly meant business.

“That’s how the villain chooses his targets. Negative emotion. If someone is having a bad enough day, he can take control of them and give them powers and basically destroy the city trying to get to Ladybug and Chat Noir, who are our heroes. I only know what’s been posted on official sites like the Ladyblog or miraculousparis.org.” Marinette says, smiling apologetically and hoping that this conversation can be over.

“Have you ever been akumatized?” Dick asks, tension suddenly filling the room.

“No, thankfully. I’ve found ways to manage my negative emotions so that they can’t take me over. I don’t blame anyone who has been akumatized, it’s hard not to be. But, I also don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I was akumatized.” Because then her family would be a target. Because Hawkmoth would know her identity. And if Hawkmoth’s insistence on her being akumatized was anything to go on, she’d be a devastating akuma. And if Ladybug wasn’t fighting in the battle….would the cure even work?

“That is a lot of pressure, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says softly after a moment of tense silence. Marinette grins brightly.

“I can handle it, don’t worry!” She says, hoping no one can tell how hard it actually is. How hard it is constantly being strong. Never truly feeling a negative emotion.

---

Bruce winces at the faux cheerfulness in his daughter’s voice. He had only found out about the Paris situation a few days ago, but he was determined to fix it. Find a solution. Do something to help the city and by extension, his daughter. She’d be going back there soon. Back to a city that was being held hostage by an emotional terrorist. Bruce would fix this. He had to.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

#maribat bruce wayne #maribat #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #maribat adrienette #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat bio dad au #maribat batfam #maribat dick grayson #maribat jason todd #maribat damian wayne #mbdbwm2021 #day five stories/memories #ao3fic

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foli-vora · 3 years

Text

more than words, pt.2

A/N: Really wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction to pt.1 so thank you all so much for your likes, reblogs, kind words and support! I had a few requests to make a taglist so I’ve done it at the bottom - let me know if you’d like to be added! (and I hope I haven’t forgotten anyone) so - on with the show!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: swearing

pt.1 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

You startle when your phone vibrates on the coffee table, the sudden and abrupt noise of it quick to drag your attention away from the true crime documentary playing across your TV screen. You eye it from your spot on the couch, so far, yet only a mere reach away if you could be bothered to stretch the distance. Your eyes fall back to the TV, happy to just ignore it and address it when you eventually have to move from the cocoon of blankets and pillows you’ve surrounded yourself with, but when the reminder alert sounds two minutes after receiving it, a small voice in the back of your head pipes up, saying it could be something important and you sigh tiredly.

The effort to move pulls a low groan from you and you stretch out, snatching the device from the table and back into the warmth before you could tumble onto the floor and really have something to grumble about.

Hey Benny’s mystery girl, how’s your night going?

The text sends flutters through your stomach, your hands immediately clamming up with a brief wave of nerves. This was the guy that Benny was setting you up with – an apparent very close friend and someone who clearly meant a lot to him. Why did you feel so much pressure to make a good impression?

Blankets, cushions and crime show now forgotten, you straighten up and let your fingers hover over the keypad in contemplation.

Do you play it cool? Act like you have a brimming social life, full of fun and endless options, and are not currently sat at home on a Friday night in your pyjamas watching Netflix, eating an excessive amount of snacks? No. No, you shouldn’t put a false image out there. Honesty is the best policy.

Hey yourself mystery fish. It’s a nice and relaxed night on my end, how about yours?

You leave it at that, briefly wondering if you should quickly chuck your phone on airplane mode, delete the message before it could go through and start again.

Did it sound boring? Is that the kind of image you were throwing out there? Maybe you should’ve acted like you were at least doing something productive. But then… what if Benny was there to call you out on your bullshit, knowing you literally have nothing better to do? He’d gladly do it, too.

You roll your eyes at yourself, wondering why you even cared what this mystery man thought about you and your weekend rituals when you had literally never even met. You were who you were, and that was that. If he didn’t like it, then he could take his handsome face and pretty brown eyes elsewhere.

I’m jealous. Stuck out with the guys and all I can think about is sleeping.

Scratch that. Maybe he was a man after your own heart, after all. A picture of a tray of tequila shots and lemons wedges comes through, another text quickly following which had you giggling quietly to yourself –

I’m too old for this shit.

You grin at your screen, opening your camera and snapping a quick picture of your blanket covered legs, snack covered coffee table and bright TV screen before sending it with a little smirking emoji. You’re not disappointed when he replies almost immediately.

Now I’m really jealous – are those Doritos?

Nacho cheese!

The one and only acceptable flavour. Is that Forensic Files? I binged the shit out of that the other day!

OMG it’s so good!

Surprisingly, your eyes didn’t feel as heavy as you thought they would when your alarm drags you from sleep the next morning. You could even say you were looking forward to waking up, which was not how your Saturday mornings usually played out.

Immediately you reach over for your phone and unlock it, smiling like an idiot at the Home safe :) text waiting for you. You chew your lip as you scroll through the many bubbles of conversation, stomach twisting in delight as you re-read through the topics you managed to bounce through in the few hours of texting before you had to call it quits at 2:14am and send a final – Goodnight Frankie x

You had paced your apartment after that, ringing your hands together anxiously and eyeing the clock as the seconds ticked past, scowling at your reflection in the mirror as you took your worries out on your teeth, scrubbing them much harder than necessary. Was a kiss too much? Is it too early for that kind of thing? You had only literally just started talking. Should you quickly text and say it was an accident? It’s not like you can say you sent it to the wrong person – the message had his fucking name in it.

The sound you made when you got a – Sweet dreams mystery girl x – in return wasn’t even remotely human and the words swirled around your head long after you fell asleep.

The reservations you had originally developed on being set up, yet again, quickly dissipated the longer you and Frankie exchanged messages. There had been no awkward block of nothing between texts, no dragging up mediocre subjects to keep the conversation rolling… it had just flowed so effortlessly, so naturally – something which had never happened before with Benny’s previous candidates. The only other candidate that you had managed to have a comfortable conversation with was Will, and that was only after you had both agreed that there was no attraction between the two of you.

Over text, Frankie seemed funny – quick witted and sarcastic – and often had you snorting into your drink over a comment or joke made at his own or his friends’ expenses. No, you weren’t even remotely hesitant about this anymore. If anything, your evening of conversation just made you that much more eager to meet him.

It’s much later in the day when you finally message him, having kept the temptation to message him at bay while you tidied up, keeping it short and sweet with a, How’s the head? You chew your lip, eyes flicking over the message with thoughtful eyes before quickly tagging a little kiss on the end and pressing send. Not even two minutes later, your phone goes off on the coffee table and the clammy hands return tenfold when you read over the message a good fifteen times.

Can I call?

Shit. Shit. He wants to call? And like… talk? With voices? What if you stutter? Choke? Oh god, your throat’s dry. It’s dry – how can you talk with a dry throat? You can’t. Fuck. Fuck. Drink – you need a drink –

You quickly run to the kitchen, filling a glass of water and swallowing it down as quickly as you could, not at all caring that it half spills down your chin and onto your jumper. You gasp for air when you finish, slamming the glass down and catching the drips of water from your chin with the back of your hand. You slide across your floor as you run back out to your couch and grab your phone, typing a quick reply.

Yeah sure.

Too casual. Was that too casual? Should you have added a kiss? Shit – it’s already sent. It’s fine. It’s fine. He asked a short question, and he got a short answer. It makes sense. It’s fine. You yelp when your phone starts to vibrate in your hand, his contact name flashing across the screen.

Oh God.

He’s calling. He’s somewhere out there, phone to his ear, waiting for you to answer and you’re what – standing in your lounge and looking at your phone, watching it ring, like an idiot? What are you doing?

You inhale deeply, clearing your throat a little before swiping the green icon.

“Hi,”

Oh God, what was that? What was that tone?

“Hey. Sorry – looking at my phone screen and trying to reply was making my eyes feel like they’re exploding.”

His voice is deep, hoarse from his night of drinking, and overwhelmingly pleasant to listen to. It brings a flush of warmth across your cheeks, an electric tingle across your skin.

You laugh softly, “It’s alright. Tequila wasn’t a good idea, then?”

He grunts quietly and your stomach tightens, throat suddenly dry again at the suggestive sound.

“It never is.” He groans, melting into a long yawn and you start to feel a little guilty. Did your text wake him up?

“I’m sorry, I should let you sleep –”

“No! No, it’s fine. I uh – I really want to talk to you… if you’re not busy.” He adds onto the end, almost nervously.

“I’m not busy,” you reassure quietly, smiling shyly down at your lap. “I’m all yours.”

He chuckles lowly, and the sound settles deep in your belly, “Good.”

You don’t understand how conversation could just be so... easy with someone you’ve never met. For a brief moment, you worry you might be talking too much, maybe boring him, but when he keeps asking questions, encourages you to continue, you think that maybe he doesn’t mind, maybe he actually is just interested in what you’re saying.

When dinner comes around, you’re in a fit of giggles as you prepare your food, listening to pots and pans bang and clash on the other end as Frankie prepares his own meal. You cook together, eat together, and then settle in front of Netflix together, debating back and forth on what to watch. The evening melts into night, one movie turns into two, and eventually conversation dies down.

Sometime in the night, you roll over, briefly waking to fix and fluff the pillow under your head when a sound makes you pause. Your head jerks up and you look around, finding yourself sprawled across the couch, and a blanket twisted around your legs.

Glancing over to your phone to check the time, you touch the screen and blink in surprise when you see your phone call is still connected with Frankie, who’s quiet on the other end. You move to press the red button but freeze when a soft snore sounds from the device, and a warm flood of affection grows in your heart and spreads throughout your chest.

He’s asleep.

You listen a moment longer, smiling tenderly when more quiet snores reach your ears. Instead of hanging up, you bring the phone closer, tucking it just beside your pillow before laying your head back down and closing your eyes, letting the quiet breathing soothe you back to sleep.

If the strong butterflies turning your stomach were anything to go by, you were in serious trouble.

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed @emilykjh @peterhollandkait @sara-alonso @starlightsearches @bookishofalder @empress-palpat1ne @shadowolf993 @rosiefridayrogersunday @canyonmirrors @eoz-stuff @blackonemasie @layniapetrovnaaa

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco morales x f!reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #no benny in this chap #but he's coming

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pot-of-terv · 3 years

Photo

FINALLY! It is here! The conclusion to my PuzzleJune series! Thank you so much for everyone who’s tagged along on this journey and thank you especially to @xauroraxborealisx for arranging this event. It’s been a wild ride for me because this is the first time I’ve ever done something this big so I’m incredibly grateful for everything ;__;

I might continue this story with tiny bits here and there but for the foreseeable future, this is it. Hope you enjoy!! 💗 (Please be sure to read the previous parts first if you’re new here :3)

PuzzleJune 2021, Week Four: Mind (School, Bond)

“Aren’t you hungry, Yuugi?”

The aforementioned boy startles, almost dropping his spoon into his soup. He looks at his grandpa and blinks.

“Uh, yeah, not really. Sorry.”

“Thought so,” Sugoroku nods and drinks his remaining broth straight from the bowl. “Give the rest to me.”

Yuugi blinks at him again, almost owlishly, and lifts his bowl with stiff arms to hand it over to the old man.

Sugoroku doesn’t waste any time and goes for the soup as soon as it’s in front of him. Yuugi smiles at him, amused, and stands up. He gathers up his spoon and glass and brings them to the sink.

“Thanks for the food,” he calls out as he leaves the kitchen. Sugoroku answers him with a grunt, probably already immersed in his crossword now that there’s no one else at the table.

Yuugi walks the stairs to his room slowly, silently thanking his grandfather for not making a fuss about his suddenly disappeared appetite. It’s been a quiet day but he feels tired and he’s kept zoning out. He blames it on the blistering heat of late summer but even to him, it sounds like a lie – the real reason is that he misses Atem.

He doesn’t bother closing the door of his room behind him and goes straight for the bed, falling onto it face first. It’s stupid, I know, he thinks and lifts his head enough to be able to tilt it to the side so he’s not smothered by the plush bedspread. He’ll be back soon.

Jounouchi had come to the house early that morning and asked to borrow Atem. He had reasoned that because school would start again in a week, he wanted to spend at least one day together with just Atem, doing whatever. Atem didn’t have to enrol, after all, so they won’t be able to hang out that much anymore after the classes start.

Yuugi understood him, of course – he will see Atem every day even if there’s a lot of homework, but the others don’t have that privilege. He had even joked that why aren’t their other friends waiting in line to get a turn, too, flustering Atem and making Jounouchi guffaw.

In all honesty, he’s really happy that Jounouchi would take the time to spend a whole day with Atem. They’d been going out as a group a lot after the first week and a half of Atem living (actually living) with Yuugi and while having all of their friends to hang out with is so much fun, Yuugi treasures time spent one-on-one.

It doesn’t change the fact that after being glued to Atem’s side for so long, Yuugi finds himself lost without him. His mind feels like candy floss, fluttery and sticky, and he can’t concentrate. He had tried to go through his deck in order to decide if it’s good enough (he and Atem need their own decks now, after all, so most of it is brand new) but couldn’t get past the first couple of cards. After that hadn't worked, he tried a few different games that he could play by himself but got no enjoyment from them. He’d just been going through the motions and realising that, he had decided to go down to help his grandpa at the shop for the rest of the day.

It’s not healthy to be so attached, he knows, and they really need to work on that – Yuugi is sure that Atem is fine with Jounouchi, but what about when they need to go to school and Atem stays home? He’d like to believe that the pharaoh will be much better off by himself than Yuugi is, but that is doubtful. They’ll have to have yet another talk soon – preferably today.

Yuugi bites his lip and sighs. There really is no coming back from the kind of bond that they’ve shared – through mind, heart and body – and Yuugi doesn’t want to imagine the pain that Atem’s departure to Afterlife would have caused when a simple day spent apart makes him unravel at the seams. Also, this train of thought could bring him to a place he most definitely doesn’t want to go now so to distract himself he turns onto his back and fumbles blindly to his left to grab the book he had left on the bed earlier that day.

The sound of rustling wakes him an undetermined time later. He opens his eyes slowly, groggy enough to feel like he should just go back to sleep, but when he glances at the clock on his desk his stomach flips and he shoots up from the bed – the book he had attempted to read falling on the floor with a bang – and startles Atem who had been digging through a grocery bag.

“Ah! Yuugi!” he yelps and almost falls onto his butt from his crouched position on the other side of the desk. Thankfully he doesn’t send any of his purchases flying as he stabilises himself by quickly planting his other hand on the floor.

“Sorry!” Yuugi apologises quickly, his heart still racing. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep and he most definitely didn’t mean to sleep that late. It’s already seven in the evening, meaning that Yuugi had snoozed away for three hours. But – it also means that Atem is back, as evidenced by the boy currently looking up at him with concern written all over his face.

“I didn’t mean to wake you –” he starts but Yuugi silences him by shaking his head.

“No, I shouldn’t have slept in the first place. Really, I should thank you,” he says and pauses, then just looks at Atem. An unprompted smile makes its way onto his face. “Welcome home.”

There’s wonder in the pharaoh’s eyes and after a moment of silence, he returns the smile with such warmth it can almost be felt. “I’m home,” he replies, and Yuugi smiles wider.

He really is.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?”

“Aibou, please,” Atem laughs and holds Yuugi’s face between his hands, squishing his cheeks. Jounouchi chortles from somewhere behind him and Yuugi frowns in his direction but doesn’t move away from Atem or try to pry his hands off of his face.

“But I worry,” he says, looking rightfully pouty as he shifts his gaze back to his partner. Atem laughs more and releases his face, patting his other cheek before crossing his arms.

“I’ll walk back home, help grandpa open up the shop and then it’s smooth sailing from there. You don’t have to worry,” he smiles at the still pouting teen in front of him. “I’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, and the day’s done sooner than you realise.”

“Yeah, Yuugi,” Jounouchi cuts in with a grin and drapes an arm around Atem’s shoulders. “Atem knows his way around the shop and we’re all here to take care of you. No sweat.”

“Honestly,” Anzu smiles and swiftly elbows Honda in the ribs before he can interrupt her. “We know it’s hard on you both but it’s just like ripping off a bandaid, right? It stings at first but it doesn’t last forever and even before you realise, you’ve forgotten all about it.”

“Y-yeah,” Honda says, rubbing his side, “what they said. We’ll be here, Yuugi.”

Yuugi stares at his friends, feeling his cheeks warming. How in the world did he get so lucky?

“T-thanks,” he mutters but can’t help smiling in the end. “You guys are great.”

“Hell yeah we are!” Jounouchi exclaims and does finger guns at him, his other arm still on Atem’s shoulders. Atem laughs but his eyes are soft when he looks at Yuugi.

“Go on, then. The gates are about to close, aren’t they?”

“Oh, shit!” Honda and Jounouchi yelp at the same time and the latter releases his hold on Atem. He ruffles the spiky-haired head before taking off after his best friend. “Stay crispy!” he shouts over his shoulder at Atem.

Anzu shakes her head, frowning. “These guys are too much. You don’t have to run yet!” she tries yelling after them but the duo is already too far ahead. She sighs but when she turns to Yuugi and tilts her head to the side, her eyes are twinkling.

“I should go after them. I trust you’ll be right behind, okay?”

And she winks. Yuugi flushes pink but before he can say anything, she’s already jogging off. There’s a chuckle next to him and he looks at the pharaoh who seems much too happy.

“That wasn’t fair,” Yuugi grumbles and that only makes Atem laugh harder.

“You’ve got amazing friends,” he says when he’s calmed down. Yuugi bristles at him but the pink on his cheeks takes away from his attempted glare. Just a little bit.

“They’re your friends too!” he reminds him and that makes Atem sober up. His voice is surprisingly quiet when he talks.

“They really are,” he says and smiles in that gentle way he's been doing a lot lately. Yuugi softens at his expression and they take a moment to just look at each other, wondering, smiling. There’s so much to be happy about, they both realise at the same time, and Yuugi takes Atem’s hand.

“I know you’ll be alright. I’m, just, I’m – I’m going to miss you.”

Atem smiles at him and squeezes his hand. “I’ll miss you too, Yuugi.”

It makes Yuugi’s smile widen and he chuckles. Of course he knew it but it feels good to hear it said out loud. He’s sure it’s the same for Atem.

“Well, I guess I should be going. Take care,” he says and without pause, kisses Atem on the cheek. “See you after school!” he grins and with one final squeeze, lets go of Atem’s hand and turns around to run after his friends. His chest is buzzing and he smiles the whole way to the building.

Atem is left standing at the curb, eyes wide, face red. He lifts his hand to touch his cheek and the skin there feels electric, as if that simple touch of lips had awakened a new sense that had been completely dormant until now. That feeling spreads across his skin, reaching the top of his head and the very tips of his toes and it’s so, so warm.

It feels really nice. Atem breaks out into a grin that matches Yuugi’s earlier one and turns around to leave, his hand staying on his cheek. He must look smitten as anything but he doesn’t care. He’s happy, so why not show it to the world?

As soon as he takes the first step, he almost collides with Ryou who had come running around the corner.

“Oh! Sorry, Atem. I overslept!” the white-haired boy exclaims and stops to give a quick pat to Atem’s shoulder. “Have a good day at the shop. I’ll come to visit if I can, after school!”

He grins and waves and dashes through the school gates before Atem can wade through the fluttery mess that is his mind for a greeting. He’s still reeling but Bakura didn't seem to mind his silence so it’s probably alright.

The walk back home doesn’t feel lonely in the least. After all, his partner is always with him, even when they’re apart. Hearts are wonderful like that.

And that, if something, is worth smiling for.

#ygo dm #yugioh #puzzleshipping #puzzlejune #puzzlejune2021 #puzzlemind #puzzleschool #puzzlebond #yuugi #atem #sugoroku #jounouchi #anzu #honda #ryou bakura #tervdraws #tervdrabbles #for once i don't have anything to say in the tags... wow... I'm full of love though so maybe that takes away my words

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hanniiesuckle17 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 7: The Library

A/n: so this chapter has been long-awaited by some and i hope you guys enjoy it! the series will really start moving after this so i would love to hear what you guys think of the chapter! Sorry about any typos- i didn't have time to edit this with all my schoolwork this week! Tag List is Open <3

Tag List: @woodiegochile @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @jeonqqin @geminirules @mrsunshine999 @jisungsjheekies @hannie-squirrel00 @cotccotc @kodzu-ken @konenichi @yangs-jeongin @binniebutter @orangegyu @little-precious-baby @raethethey @sofie296 @hongjoong-a-holic

RBTL Tag List: @bluejayboys @wonderlandless @introverted-stay24 @sunfics @deputyjuyeon @studioreader

Warnings: Cursing

WC: 2.9k

Summary: True love has never come easy; life makes sure of that. From unrequited love to missed timing, does anyone have any hope at finding success- let alone pass History at the same time? All these questions leave young people wondering….will they still love me in the morning?

❖

Third POV

Y/n’s eyes grew tired as words about some minuscule event in history floated off the page of her textbook. She closed her eyes, stretching her neck-the bones cracking softly as her stiff neck rolled back. The odd silence drew her attention. Curious, she took the headphones from her ears and listened. All she could hear was the sound of raindrops falling against the large windows of the library.

It became quickly clear to the girl that she was alone and the only light in the room was coming from her little desk. “Hello?” She called out. Her voice echoed out from the second floor and filling the open building. When she heard no response, she shrugged and began pacing up her things to head home.

Though there was no response to the girl’s call there was in fact one lone soul left in the university’s library. One floor directly below Y/n sat a tall and slender boy, books piled high on his desk. Changmin twirled a pen between his fingers before checking his phone. His eyes widened seeing the time. Quickly he stuffed his journals into his bag, leaving his bag only half zipped. Red tuffs of fake hair stuck out as his doll was pushed towards the top of his bag.

The boy did a backtrack wondering if he should put his books away but decided against it knowing if he kept Chanhee and his friends waiting much longer then he might not live to see the midterm. Instead, he turned around and headed for the door- backpack on his shoulder and adjusting the glasses that were falling down his nose.

It seemed fate was entirely focused on these two tonight. Only the storm clouds had a view of the girl walking down the stairs just in time to meet the boy as he stepped onto the main floor. The two shared a brief look- shocked to see another person at this hour, but continued their way to the front doors wordlessly.

Just the sight of the girl had Changmin’s hands starting a nervous sweat. He tried to focus on anything but how pretty he thought she looked with the dim light from the streetlamps outside casting streams of light over her face. As the two students grew closer to the door the sound of the storm outside grew louder. It was also easier for them to see as they neared the larger windows.

Y/n reached out for the door. Surprisingly, she found resistance as she pushed. Again the girl tried, sending an awkward smile to the boy behind her. After pushing multiple times she gave up with a sigh. “I- uh....I think it’s locked.”

“Locked?”

Changmin stepped forward and tried his hand at the closed entranced. He pushed and pulled until retreating, brows furrowed. “What you didn’t believe me?” The girl asked with a breathy laugh. Changmin’s eyes widened as he turned to face her.

“What- no! No, not all! I- I- I just...”

“I was just joking, don’t worry.” A timid smile quirked up the corner of the boy's lips. He watched as she shed her bag- placing it against the nearest row of shelves. “Should we try together?” His head moved faster than his mind could process Y/n’s words. He shed his backpack next to hers and the two turned towards the sealed doors.

In his mind, he knew that even with both of their strengths pushing, the industrial locks on the university doors would not break. “I’m Y/n, by the way.” Instead of looking at the boy, she readied herself at the door, palms pressed against the metal bar.

“Oh- I’m..uh...C-Changmin...”

“Well C-Changmin, push on three?” He nodded, finding Y/n’s smile, though small, even more enchanting up close. “One, two, three!”

The two of them pushed with all their might but to no avail. Y/n looked defeated as she pulled her phone out of her back pocket. Her delicate fingers pushed the button but the screen refused to light up.

Changmin had a similar idea. He reached for his own phone. Both of them smiled as it lit up showing the time and 11% battery left. The grin quickly fell as he realized there was absolutely no signal. Using his long limbs to his advantage he reached up searching one measly bar.

Y/n ran a hand through her hair. This was the absolute perfect way to end her already stressful and torturous day. She reached for the lamp on a nearby desk but a huge roll of thunder resonated through the building and it suddenly became even darker.

“Well, this is the beginning of a horror movie if I’ve seen one.” Changmin joked, kicking the door with a grin. His smile fell as he turned to see the fearful look on Y/n’s face.

“Dude- why the fuck would you say that!”

“I don’t know! I’m sorry!” He mentally hit himself over and over. Why did he say that? There was no need to break the silence. The silence was his safety net right now. If he was silent there was absolutely no way he could appear like some weird Freakazoid to her. He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, casting brief glances over at the pretty girl he had liked for so long.

The two gradually gravitated towards each other. There was really nowhere else to go. Y/n enjoyed the sound of the storm outside, letting it calm her ever-growing nerves. Changmin resisted the urge to engage in embarrassing small talk.

A bright crash of lightning brightened up the room in sheets just as Y/n’s eye fell on the two backpacks several feet away. Her scream echoed off the ceiling as she caught a glimpse of the Chucky doll peeking its head out of the boy’s bag. Instinctively, she grabbed onto the closest thing- which happened to be Changmin’s hoodie.

Heat flooded every inch of his face and he wasn’t quite sure where to put his hands so he settled for keeping them up in the air. Inside his heart was beating faster than he ever thought possible. It was like all of his senses were heightened the moment she touched him.

“What the hell is that?”

“Oh...umm...he’s my Chucky.”

“Your what?” She pulled away from him and Changmin instantly missed her touch. The girl all but laughed seeing the blush on his cheeks and his arms still raised in the air almost in surrender.

“My Chucky. You know- like from the movie...”

“Yes, I’ve seen the fucking movie!”

Nervously he adjusted his sweater before shuffling over and gently tucking his doll safely pack in his bag- out of sight from the still shaken girl. “Why are you carrying that around anyway?”

The scare had seemed to lessen the tension between both of them; though Changmin was still very aware of every word and action towards Y/n. “I was headed to a thriller marathon at my friend’s apartment after I finished some studying.” She nodded but in her mind, she wondered how if he had been studying for as long as she had, he did not have tears running down his face and a massive migraine. “I guess I just lost track of the time.”

Y/n couldn’t help but smile a the boy’s lopsided grin. She found it endearing how one side was always high than the other. The more he smiled at her the more she wanted to take a picture of his little quirk.

Another weighted silence fell between them. Against his better judgment, Changmin began to speak. “I don’t mean to pry...but what were you doing here so late?” For a moment Y/n had forgotten all about her troubles that had been following her for the past month and a half. A visible heaviness pressed down her shoulders.

Her back pressed against the bookshelf and she let herself slide down to the floor. “I gave up on finding a tutor last week. I was hoping some miracle would happen if I read that stupid book long enough.”

At that moment she wasn’t just the girl he had been pining after since he was in braces. Changmin saw the exhaustion. He saw the complete lack of hope. He moved his backpack- which she had sat down next to and took its place.

“What book?” He didn’t need to ask but saved her the embarrassment of telling her that he had been in the room for her lecture with Professor Jeong. Wordlessly she pulled out a book, her hand dipping in the air from the significant weight. “Ah,”

“Good ‘ah’ or bad ‘ah’?”

“I’m not sure which the situation calls for?” He said pushing up his glasses with a little smile.

Changmin’s grin grew a little wider as he heard her laugh. Even sitting in the dark, her smile seemed to fill the room with a warm glow. “At this point, I think I’m just useless.” She pressed her forehead against the cool cover of the book.

She wondered why she found herself so comfortable with this stranger. It felt easier to talk with this boy she had known for twenty minutes than to talk with her closest friends- even her parents. A small shock of something she could only describe as electricity, raced up her arm as the boy’s hand brushed hers. He reached for the book, gently taking it from her hands and opening it to the tabbed page.

“You aren’t useless, Y/n,” His words gave her comfort, wrapping around her like a warm blanket fresh from the dryer. Changmin chuckled, turning the page. “However, one might find it useful to highlight only the useful information and not the entire page.”

He found it cute looking down at Y/n’s textbook. Most of the passages were marked with yellow highlighter- easy to see even in the growing darkness. Some lines were underlined in red and there were circled statements with question marks all over the page. It was evident that she was in fact trying. Actually, her notes were in more detail than his.

“I just don't understand it.”

“What?”

“All of it.”

“All of history?”

“Sure- let’s go with that.” She shrugged leaning her head back on the bookshelf.

“I think history can be confusing sometimes too.” Changmin let her textbook rest on his lap. The two of them looked out the huge windows in front of them, watching the storm rage on outside. Occasionally, a flash of lightning would light up the library. “You know, I’m in Professor Jeong’s class too.”

“You are?”

Chanhee was right. She had no idea he existed until now and unless he played his cards right, she would forget about him the moment she left this building. “Yeah...I sit two rows behind you.” He watched her eyes widened a little as if she was trying to recall every face she had seen in that classroom. “Actually...to be fully honest...I knew who you were before tonight.”

Her brows furrowed, creating a small crease in the middle of her forehead. Everything about her fascinated Changmin, even down to her smallest expression. Getting a little nervous, he started rummaging through his backpack. As he chose his next words carefully in his mind, Changmin pulled out a half-full plastic water bottle and portable charger he forgot he carried.

Interested in the boy’s previous statement, Y/n watched him with intrigue. “I-uh....” His hands shakily turned on his phone’s flashlight after plugging his phone into the charger. “We went to the same high school. You and I have shared classes since grade nine.” Her jaw dropped a little at his words.

“I feel....like such a bitch.”

“Oh no-” He stuttered, trying to balance the water bottle over his flashlight- creating a makeshift lantern.

“Oh my god, I am the biggest asshole! I’ve never once noticed you in seven years? You must hate me!”

His heart warmed, seeing how bothered she was. He felt a little pride swell in his chest knowing that Sunwoo and Chanee were completely wrong about Y/n. “No, not at all! I just think we had different friend groups that’s all.”

Shrouded in the light from their little water lamp the two of them exchanged old high school gossip that Changmin never quite understood from the outside. “Wait so Miyoung stole Yeonu away from Hajoon?” Changmin covered his mouth in shock, his eyes widening in a cute way.

Y/n smiled and nodded, hand falling on his knee. “Yeah- I know right!”

“And Yeonu was the guy who-”

“Yeah who sold Class 4B the midterm answers!”

Changmin let loose a huge sigh. “Damn- I missed so much in high school by just studying and playing games.” This time a comfortable silence fell between the two students on the floor. By the way her eyes were drooping, Y/n assumed it was about three am.

“Nah you just missed....a whole lot of drama.” She yawned shaking her head to stay awake.

It was then that Changmin’s willpower gave in to the weariness of his body. His brain no longer had control of his mouth at that moment. “What if I tutored you?”

A sleepily smile slid onto Y/n’s face. She turned her head against the shelf to look up at the boy next to her. His hopes fell as she laughed a little. “I need more help than just History.”

“What else?”

“Math, Physics, Psych...”

“I can help you with all of that too!”

Changmin hated how eager he sounded. “What are you? Some kind of genius?” She smiled even though her back was getting sore and the sound of the rain was lulling her to sleep.

“No, just a mathematics major whose parents paid for top tutors until he was sixteen.”

The girl stared at him. Her expression was unclear. In her mind, she knew there had to be some catch. No way was this guy going to tutor her in all the subjects she needed for nothing. “What’s your rate, Genius?”

“Like money?

She nodded, turning to fully face the boy. Y/n waited for some terrible number that was hellbent on destroying her bank account. Changmin on the other hand was panicking trying to decipher what number was high enough to get her to say yes but not low enough to make her think that he wasn’t serious. “Um.....$8?”

“An hour? For four subjects?”

“Yes...”

“DEAL!”

Once again Changmin was frozen as Y/n threw her arms around him in a hug. His hands returned to their familiar place- up in the air, shaking, and far away from her.

The pair spent the next hours with textbooks sprawled around them. Changmin patiently assessed where Y/n was in each of her subjects, surprised how someone of her intelligence was struggling. He found that she was indeed very bright- but simply not understanding the information the way it was being given to her.

Neither of them noticed the rain stopping or even the sun rising with a pink and orange glow coming over the horizon, morning light sliding across the marbled floor. They didn’t even notice the sound of keys being turned in the front doors hours earlier they tried so hard to open.

“What are you kids doing here?” The two students looked up to see one of the librarians standing in the doorway, keys in hand.

They looked at each other before scrambling to grab their things and running out the doors. The warm, wet morning air greeted them as they stumbled outside. The sun was just peaking over the buildings and Y/n smiled at the dew clinging to the bright green blades of grass lining the sidewalks. It was a new day and a new hope filled her chest. “We’re finally out!” Changmin cheered, jumping up and down adorably.

Y/n found it precious that someone so tall and graceful looking could be so clumsy and cute. “Changmin, I can’t thank you enough. I don’t think anyone could have explained the Joseon Era principles better.”

“Oh- i-it was nothing.”

“Here,” Taking a pen from her pocket she reached for his right arm and rolled up the sleeve of his hoodie. He took the moment to once again appreciate her beauty up close while the girl wrote her number on his arm. When she was done she placed the pen in his large hand and looked at him expectantly. “Aren’t you going to give me yours?”

Changmin vigorously nodded his head ‘yes’ and internally screamed at his brain to remember the numbers to his own phone number. With anything but steady hands, he wrote his number on her forearm and basked in the glow of the smile he received.

“So-uh..I’ll call you? You’ll call me? We can talk about times that work?”

“Yeah! Dates....and what not...Study-dates I mean! Tutoring! Yes.”

“Awesome! I can’t wait! Thank you so much, you have no idea how much you are saving my ass.” Y/n cheered as she started to back away towards her dorm.

“So you’ll call me?” He called after her. His feet were planted firmly where he stood for he feared if he moved an inch he might float away.

She laughed, her smile even brighter in the growing daylight. “Or something, yeah!”

“Okay!” He watched Y/n unit she rounded a corner before letting all the joy explode from his body in a fit of jumps, hollers, cheers, dance, and maybe what some might consider singing.

The sun basked in the boy’s glee as he danced and jumped his way down the sidewalk screaming “YES! SHE KNOWS WHO I AM!” His body was no longer sore and his mind was no longer tired. Instead, he ran all the way back to his apartment with a grin that the sun could not compete with.

Previous Chapter ❖ Next Chapter

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chasingpj · 3 years

Text

𝐀 𝐒𝐞𝐭-𝐔𝐩

"We should go pick the strawberries over there. Percy and Y/n can work on the ones here."

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 3,887

warnings: none?? pls let me know if i missed anything

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story click here

a/n: hi hi! I was supposed to post this yesterday, but oops. I don't have much to say. again, it's a little bit of a slow start just because I want to introduce characters and establish relationship dynamics before getting into the good stuff. anyways, i hope you like it! i love hearing feedback so don't hesitate to reach out to me!

Part One Part Two Part Three

When you were stressed or needed to be alone with your thoughts, you often found yourself in the strawberry fields, either helping collect the harvest or simply sitting on the grass patches nearby. You usually preferred being in the fields alone, peacefully listening to the chirping of the birds and cicadas while inhaling the scent of sun-baked strawberries. However, there were times where you did stumble upon the company of the girls from the Demeter and Aphrodite cabin. You didn't mind hanging out with them, always amused at their banter and choice of conversation. They were always bubbly, taking advantage of the leisure activity to gossip and have girl talk, and it was nice, even if you were just listening.

Today was one of those days where you weren’t alone in the fields. Standing alongside Silena, Katie, and your half-sister, Lou Ellen, you find yourself zoning in and out of their conversation. Their chattering and giggling serve as background noise as you focus on cutting the strawberries from their stems to carefully place them in your basket.

"Who do you think are the cutest boys at camp?" You hear Silena ask when you decide to tune back into their conversation. A silence falls amongst the group; Katie and Lou Ellen were suddenly hesitant to speak. You look up, waiting for one of them to break the silence because it definitely wasn’t going to be you.

"I know what you're doing! You're trying to find out our crushes," Katie points her finger at Silena accusingly. Lou Ellen nods,

“Yeah, we know your tricks, Silena! You’re gonna try and set us up with people.”

"What? No!" Silena denies, but the smirk on her face said otherwise. "I'm just asking in general! You can find someone cute and not have a crush on them,” she points out. The three of you weren’t convinced at Silena’s claims, and the silence returns. You turn back to what you were doing, not really wanting to trap yourself in this conversation, and you decide to leave the pressure of confession to Katie and Lou Ellen.

"Okay.” Katie turns her body to face you. You hesitantly meet her gaze, already knowing what she's going to confess. "... this might be weird, but I think your brother is really cute," she admits, giggling nervously as she looks at both you and Lou Ellen. You scrunch your nose, shaking your head while Lou Ellen joins your reaction as she gags theatrically. The confession didn't surprise you, but it still felt weird to hear it.

"He's ugly!" You exclaim. Silena laughs, her head thrown back as Katie gasps at your insult about Atticus. Even though this wasn't the first time you've heard this from girls at camp, you still found it strange. Even your mortal friends have told you that they think your brother is adorable. You’ll never admit it out loud to anyone, but you were aware that your brother definitely wasn't ugly. Obviously, he wasn't if almost all of your friends had to mention his appearance at least once. Not only was Atticus conventionally attractive, but he was also a natural flirt, so he got attention from girls fairly easily. So much so that before your mother claimed you, Connor and Travis Stoll swore you guys were going to be claimed by Aphrodite.

You've only seen him flirt a handful of times, usually with the wood nymphs and playfully with the girls from the Aphrodite cabin. It was strange seeing girls flirt with him and giggle at all his stupid jokes because that “smooth” Atticus they meet is so different from the Atticus you saw. The Atticus you got to see was a clumsy dork that obsessed over Harry Potter and had a habit of bursting into song whenever he was bored, most often singing his own rendition of a song from a broadway musical or of a rock song from the 90s.

"No, he isn't! His facial structure is amazing!” Katie gushes. “And he's tall and has broad shoulders. He's also really funny!" You and Lou Ellen stare at her with a straight face before simultaneously bursting into laughter.

“He’s a dork!” Lou Ellen chokes through her laughs, and you nod, agreeing with her.

"Hey! I get where Katie is coming from! As his sisters, you guys are biased. Of course, you’re gonna say he's ugly," Silena points out, and you sigh,

“Live with him in the Hermes Cabin for a couple of weeks, and when you see him in his natural state, you won’t find him cute anymore,” you joke. Katie shakes her head,

“I don’t believe you. I bet he’s even cuter! You’re calling him a dork, but jokes on you, I like dorks,” she says playfully, crossing her arms over her chest, and you smile at her.

“To each their own, I guess.”

"What about you? Who do you think is cute?" Silena asks you. You side-eye the other, and you feel your face heat up. You really didn’t want to be the target in this conversation. Turning back to the bushes, you answer her question with a shrug of your shoulders. Silena scoffs, "there has to be someone! We have a good group of guys to choose from at camp."

"I mean, yeah…" you trail off hesitantly, and you feel the stares of the girls as they wait for your answer. You knew they weren't going to let this go, and so, you sigh softly, taking a moment to find the courage to confess. "I guess Percy is cute-"

"Y/n!"

Your breath hitches in your throat, and your shoulder tenses up at the sound of the familiar voice. It was too much of a coincidence that Percy showed up the exact moment you were speaking about him. The girls laugh at your reaction and your cheeks somehow become hotter as Silena smiles at you knowingly. If she didn't sense your crush before, she definitely sensed it now. Snapping your gaze away from her, you find the courage to turn around.

"Hey, Percy," you say, smiling sheepishly. You fiddle with your fingers as you take in his appearance. Percy was wearing his orange camp half-blood shirt and cargo pants. His cheeks were a little flushed at the summer heat, and you assume he probably came from training. As usual, his dark hair was slightly disheveled, and you couldn’t help your lips curling into a soft smile.

"Hey, I've been looking for you. You left these on the dock," he says, presenting the black pouch filled with your crystals in his hand. You gasp softly as you take it from him.

"Oh! Thank you. I can’t believe I forgot them," You shake your head at yourself as you put them in your strawberry basket in the meantime. You didn’t understand how your forgotten crystals never came to your mind once, especially this late in the day.

"No problem. I think they’re all in there," he smiles at you before acknowledging the girls standing behind you. "Hey, guys.”

He furrowed his eyebrows as they giggle amongst themselves. They murmur a few things to each other before turning their gaze to him again.

"Percy, I wanted to ask who do you think is the prettiest girl at camp?" Silena asks as the girls move to surround him. You're stomach flutters crazily with nerves, and you cringe, feeling embarrassed even though Percy was oblivious to the motive behind the question.

Percy looks around him, shifting his weight from one foot to another,

"This… feels like a trap,” he says slowly, making the girls giggle.

"It's not! We just want to know. Anyone, in particular, stands out to you?" Silena steps closer to him.

"Any crushes?" Katie asks.

"There has to be someone, right?" Lou Ellen smiles.

"Um… I- why are you guys asking so many questions?" He mutters, his shoulders tense up as he avoids the stares of the three girls practically towering over him.

"Guys, leave him alone," you laugh shortly. "You don't have to answer all that," you reassure him, cutting through their little circle as you squeeze between Silena and Katie.

You stand beside Percy, the girls deciding to step down and return to their original places. Silena smiles, and you can't tell what she's thinking, but you knew that the smile playing on her lips made you nervous. You awkwardly exchange a look with Percy, noticing that he was just as flustered as you were.

"You know… I noticed that those bushes over there get a lot of sun," Silena says, breaking her silence as she turns to Katie and Lou Ellen. She points at the bushes about three rows from where you were all standing, and Katie nods,

"We should go pick the strawberries over there. Percy and Y/n can work on the ones here." Silena gives you a smirk, winking at you before turning around and taking the other girls with her.

You resume your strawberry picking, chewing on your button lip. You were hoping that he didn't witness Silena wink at you because if he did, it was then way too obvious that the girls spontaneously set up this. There's a silence for a moment, and you feel your palms start to sweat as you try to figure out what you were going to say to him.

"Where's Ambrose?" Percy asks softly, and you glance over for a second, watching as he picks the strawberries beside you.

"Oh, uh, he ran off a little while ago with my brothers. They're probably playing somewhere." You smile, remembering how Ambrose wasted no time, running over to Alabaster and Ernest the moment they had offered to play with him.

"... how do you play with a ghost dog?" Percy gleams, amused at the idea of playing with Ambrose considering he couldn’t touch many things.

"There's a process where you can offer things to his spirit, so he has a few toys that he can play with," you explain. “He and I play with his toys all the time, but he’s with my brother’s right now, so they're probably wrestling."

"What? Really? I wouldn’t want to wrestle Ambrose,” Percy admits as a short laugh comes from his mouth.

"Yeah, me neither. He would definitely win if we did. Once he was so excited to see me; he jumped on me and knocked me down no problem,” you shake your head. “I think he forgets how big he is, and he ends up getting carried away sometimes.”

You look up from what you were doing, unexpectedly meeting Percy’s green eyes that resemble the color of the Caribbean sea as the sun shines into them. The butterflies in your stomach return, and you’re trying not to focus on the fact that the other was already looking at you. You look elsewhere, suddenly too shy to look at him, but your eyes couldn’t help but flicker back to his face. From this close, you noticed things about him that you didn’t see before, like the scattered freckles on his face, his long eyelashes, and his slightly chapped lips.

“I-” he stops himself suddenly, and your eyebrows furrow. The tension between you both was something you've never felt before. You didn't understand why Percy looked dazed, staring at you as if he found you to be the most captivating person in the world.

You open your mouth, but before you could speak, you see something moving at the end of the bush row. Breaking your gaze with Percy, you notice Silena's focusing intensely on you and him. It suddenly dawns on you that the strange tension was because she was working that love magic that all the Aphrodite children can do. She smirks when she sees that you’ve noticed her, and you swore you saw her mouth a “you’re welcome.” The tension suddenly falls as she hides behind the bushes right as Percy turns around to find out what you were looking at.

You giggle nervously, “um, yeah. Anyways... Ambrose can put up a fight,” you say, trying to revert to the original topic because you really didn’t want to discuss what just happened. You give him a second to get himself together, Percy looking a little disoriented after being under Silena's look magic. He blinks a few times before turning abruptly toward the strawberry bushes. A nervous chuckle leaves his lips, and his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. He shifts on his feet and nods,

“Yeah, I can imagine.” He clears his throat, his voice coming out a little higher than he had intended it to be. You bite your bottom lip, trying to refrain from laughing, and you hum softly in response.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit before your conversation had picked up again. Surprisingly, even after being unknowingly manipulated by Silena’s magic, Percy moved on quickly from the awkward tension. You found it was easy to talk to him, the two of you chatting as if you didn't just meet yesterday. The two of you talked and laughed a lot, sharing funny stories from quests or about your mortal parents.

You’ve never been a closed-off person, and you were able to share things easily with people, so the conversation flew naturally. You guys talked about the weird perks of your powers. One of the weird perks you shared is your ability to see and communicate with ghosts, and you end up freaking him out with the many stories of your paranormal experiences.

You weren't sure how long you were talking to him, but time felt like it flew by, and eventually, your baskets were filled with strawberries as you finished picking the row. The sun was lower in the sky, and you assume that it was almost time for dinner. You figured you should find your siblings, and Ambrose and Percy had mentioned that he had plans to climb the lava wall with a few of his friends. So you guys placed your baskets in the drop-off section where they package the strawberries, exchanging a short “see you later” before parting ways.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

The last thing Annabeth was expecting to see today was an out-of-breath Atticus bursting into her cabin, but there he was. She jumps in her seat at the sudden bang, the sound cutting through the silence. Her gaze snaps from her book to the door, concerned for a second as Atticus looks panicked. He lets himself in, scoping out the room in search of something.

"What are you-?"

"Have you seen Harvey?" Atticus asks, frantically looking for his familiar. Harvey is a black-footed ferret that was given to him by his mother. When you guys found out that Ambrose was for you, Atticus was pretty bummed. He was jealous that your mother had given you such a cool gift, and you had assumed that she had seen how upset he was because a few days after Hecate officially claimed you, Atticus received Harvey as a present. The morning he met Harvey for the first time, Atticus was thrilled to wake up with the ferret casually sitting on his chest.

"I'm sorry, Harvey? I don't know a Harvey?" Annabeth turns in her chair to face him, her arms crossed over her chest.

"My ferret, have you seen him?" Atticus drops to his knees, looking under the beds and the nightstands. He just saw him jump into the back window of the Athena Cabin, so he was sure that Harvey was hiding somewhere.

"Um, no?" Annabeth rolls her eyes, finding it rude that he has barged in as if he lived there. Suddenly, a small animal jumps from the top of the bookcase beside her and right on her desk. Annabeth yelps, getting up from her seat quick as Harvey snorts, and he clumsily runs across her papers before prancing across all the desks that were lined against the wall.

"Harvey, what are you doing?!" Atticus exclaims as he moves to stand up. He attempts to meet Harvey at the last desk, but Harvey jumps out of his reach just as he closes his fist to grab him. Harvey zooms across the room, forcing him to play a one-sided game of tag that Atticus was definitely losing. He occasionally slips and stumbles, the snorts that leave his snout starting to sound like mocking laughter.

"What's wrong with your rat?" Annabeth jokes as her eyes follow Harvey around the room.

"He's a ferret," Atticus corrects her, mumbling under his breath. He sighs as he tries to catch up with the animal, failing miserably as not only was he crazy fast, he was able to find the smallest corners to hide in.

"Similar family," she shrugs, smirking at him. "And you didn't answer my question."

Atticus sighs, getting on the floor to try and grab Harvey, who’s tucked in the corner under one of the beds. He squints at the small animal, not sure why he’s acting this way when Harvey was curled up on his desk, peacefully taking a nap about 20 minutes ago.

"He does this sometimes. I don't know. He wants to play, and then he causes chaos," Atticus grunts, almost grabbing Harvey, but he runs out of his reach once again. Atticus groans as he sits back on his heels, pinching the bridge of his nose. He decides he might as well take a breather since he's been chasing him for the past 10 minutes, and he considers that he should stop entertaining him since Harvey obviously saw this as some game.

He sighs softly, choosing to forget about Harvey as he looks over at Annabeth. Her gray eyes are fixed on him as she leans against the edge of her desk. Her curly blonde locks are pulled back in a messy low ponytail allowing the front strands to frame her face prettily. Atticus smiles as he admires her, taking in her appearance before she starts telling him off.

"You look pretty like that," Atticus compliments, his heart skipping a beat as their eyes meet. He watches as her expression softens for a second, her eyes wide at the random compliment. Atticus smirks softly, not surprised, as her face suddenly darkens into a scowl. If Annabeth felt anything for him, she was good at hiding it.

When Atticus had first arrived at camp last summer, Annabeth and he spoke here and there. Their conversations were brief but pleasant, and Atticus found himself wanting to talk to her more often. As his crush for her grew, he had taken it upon himself to harmlessly flirt with her, hoping she’d get the hint that he was interested.

"Like what?" She asks, her chin up as she moves to stand up straight on her feet.

"With your hair in a ponytail like that. It's cute.”

"Hmm. Thanks for letting me know, so I'll never do it like this again,” she says in such a serious tone that made Atticus laugh. There it is. Annabeth was always quick to shut him down, and she never failed to make witty comebacks. He was pretty certain that it was just banter, but it made it hard to tell if she was maybe into him. But he never failed to notice how occasionally, she’d momentarily be lost for words or have a flustered look on her face before it hardened as it did a moment ago.

"You'd be pretty regardless, Chase.” He feels his knees start to ache, and he sighs as he gets back up on his feet.

"Don't call me that," Annabeth says abruptly.

"What? Chase? What do you prefer? Annie? Beth? Anna?" He teases.

"I prefer Annabeth, thank you." She gives him a tight, sarcastic smile, and a short laugh comes from Atticus’s mouth.

"That's not fun, though…" His hand comes under his chin as he studies her. He ponders for a second, trying to come up with a name that he can personally call her. Annabeth shifts, avoiding his gaze as she looks elsewhere. She was weirded out that the other was looking at her for so long, and she tried not to show how flustered she actually was. She grunts,

"What?! What are you look-"

"Goldilocks," Atticus blurts out, his finger pointing into the air as his face brightens, thinking he’s an absolute genius for coming up with that name. Annabeth shakes her head,

"Don't call me th-"

"It's been decided. I will call you goldilocks. No one else can call you that," Atticus cuts her off, the same proud smile plastered on his face even though Annabeth’s eyes narrow dangerously at him. Atticus takes a step back hesitantly. At first glance, she didn’t come off as intimidating, but Atticus knew better. He was always sure not to push her too far because he was completely aware of her ability to kill him.

Atticus suddenly remembers Harvey, noticing how the sound of his little feet pattering along the wooden floor ceased a while ago. He scans the room finding Harvey standing on his hind legs a couple of feet away, calmly watching them. Atticus still couldn’t understand why he had acted so strangely. Familiars couldn’t talk, obviously because they’re animals but their actions are never out of vain. They’re usually trying to tell you something if they’re acting strange, and it takes a while to put the pieces together since there is only so much they can do. After thinking for a second, it dawns on Atticus that Harvey purposely made him come to the Athena Cabin so that he can talk to Annabeth. He smiles to himself, walking toward Harvey. He didn’t run away this time, allowing Atticus to put him on his shoulder.

"He just stopped,” Annabeth points out, her head tilting to the side.

"Probably got tired?" Atticus makes an excuse for him, not wanting to admit that Harvey had decided to be his wingman today. "Sorry for barging in, by the way," he apologizes. “I saw him jump in from the window, and I was worried he’d break something.”

"Whatever. Don’t do it again.”

"Got it. Well, I'll see you around, Goldilocks. Happy studying.” Atticus turns on his heels, hearing a scoff coming from Annabeth as he walks out of the cabin.

"When did I ask you to be my wingman?" Atticus asks Harvey as he walks off the steps of the Athena Cabin. He reaches up, his index finger petting the top of his head. "You're crazy, bud... But she is cute, isn't she?" Atticus laughs, Harvey snorting as if he agrees with him.

masterlist

#my writing #pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson oneshot #pjo x reader #pjo reader insert

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megsironthrone · 3 years

Text

A Change of Fate

Based on this request: hiiii could i request one with Gendry, she’s a high born lady and they’re in love but shes married off to someone else because her family don’t approve of him her husband dies and when she finds out Gendrys alive they reunite. He’s legitimatised and they go off to storms end together?

Here you are, my lovelies! I do not own ANY Game of Thrones characters!

Warnings: Angst? Arranged marriage, death, FLUFF!! Some suggested steaminess??

Pairings/Characters: Gendry Water/Baratheon x fem!reader, Samwell Tarly

"Please don't make me do this," you begged. Your heart sank to your feet as your pleas fell on deaf ears yet again. "Father, please. I can't marry him. Please don't make me." Your father finally turned his eyes on you. "Y/N, you are going to marry young Dickon Tarly. There will be no question about it.'

"But I can't! I can't marry him when I love someone else. Father, I beg of you to listen!" You felt foolish, like a child, arguing with him. You knew it was inevitable. You were going to have to marry Dickon. Once your father made up his mind, there was no stopping him. "You will not be seeing that blacksmith ever again, Y/N. Now, I don't want to hear another word on the subject." After pleading once more to at least let you tell your lover yourself, you ran off to see Gendry for the last time.

Years had passed since you'd been forced to marry into House Tarly. Dickon was truly a good man, despite his father, who you loathed. And Dickon was a good husband. If your heart hadn't been in taken by Gendry all those years before, you might have been able to come to love Dickon. As it was, there would be no chance to find out.

You sank to your knees as the messenger told you the news. Your husband was dead. Executed for standing with his father against the Dragon Queen. While you hadn't loved him in the way he had loved you, he was still your closest friend and confidant. The messenger continued on in the background, talking about how the Dragon Queen was heading to Winterfell and to help against the Army of the Dead. He said there were rumors that she was with Ned Stark's bastard son, Tyrion Lannister, the Hound, and…

"Bastard Baratheon? I thought Cersei killed them all," your good mother said. Your ears perked up. There was only one Baratheon bastard you knew that had survived against Cersei's wrath. He had escaped thanks to Ned Stark. "Apparently not, My Lady. There is one left. Worked as a blacksmith I believe." You had to hold back a gasp. He really was alive?! And headed for Winterfell. If it was true, you knew what you had to do.

In the dead of night, you packed up a few things, saddled your horse, and rode North. You hoped you'd make it in time. You had no desire to bend the knee to Daenerys Targaryen, but you had to see Gendry again. Some people might accuse you of not caring that your husband had just died, but you knew he would have understood. He had been in love with someone else before you married too.

You rode as quickly and safely as you could, arriving in Winterfell just days before a battle was about to take place. The stronghold was armed and ready for a fight. The guards at the gate nearly didn't let you in. It was only thanks to two familiar faces that they moved aside. "Y/N?" The guards turned and you were able to catch a glimpse of your good brother. "Samwell!" The guards moved to let you through. You threw your arms around Sam and squeezed him tightly, thanking the gods he too was alive. It was then that you let your gaze wander to his companion.

"G-Gendry?" You cursed yourself for stuttering. His piercing blue eyes stared back at you as if he couldn't believe it himself. "You're here." You let go of Sam to get a good look at the love your life. He was a bit taller, broader. And he'd cut off most of his hair. You met his gaze again to see that he had been doing the same to you. "This is the…? Oh. I'll, uh, leave you to it then, shall I?" Sam said, knowing who you and Gendry used to be to one another.

"You're alive," you whispered. Gendry nodded. "And you're here alone. Shouldn't your husband be looking after you?" You glared at him. "You know damn well I never needed anyone looking after me," you hissed. Gendry chuckled softly and shook his head. "I know that, Y/N. But seriously, what are you doing here? Does he know you're here?"

"His name was Dickon and he's dead. Queen Daenerys executed him and his father." Gendry at least had the decency to look embarrassed. "Sorry," he muttered. You softened a bit. "It wasn't your fault. And he wouldn't have cared that I came here. He knew I didn't love him. How could I? I gave my heart to someone else a long time again. A blacksmith with noble blood and a bastard name." It seemed to take him a minute to make the connection, but once he did, his eyes widened almost comically.

"Me? You traveled all this way to find me?" You nodded. "Once I heard you might still be alive, I had to see for myself. Even if…if you no longer love me. Even if you despise me. I had to know that you're safe." You looked up at him, waiting for him to say something.

What you got wasn't words. That wasn't Gendry's way. So, it came as no surprise when you suddenly felt his arms wrap around you. His gaze flickered down to your lips and then back up to your eyes, silently asking permission. As soon as you consented, Gendry's lips were on yours, attacking your lips fervently. If not for the sudden cheers, you would have forgotten anyone else was there. Gendry pulled away, took your hand in his, and pulled you after him toward his chambers.

Once inside, Gendry's lips were on yours again, but they didn't stay there. He kissed you all over your face, making you giggle. "I love you, Gendry." Gendry pulled you close. "I want to be with you," you continued. "What about your parents? I'm still a bastard. Still a blacksmith." You shook your head against his chest. "I don't care. I've never cared. If you'll have me, I want you." Gendry chuckled. "If I'll have you? Y/N, I'll always have you. In every way you let me." You felt your skin flush as his warm breath tickled your ear.

*time skip*

You sat next to Gendry, practically clinging to him. After the battle with the Night King's Army, you were so grateful that you were both alive. From the moment you both saw that the other had survived, you had been nearly impossible to separate. It was probably annoying and somewhat nauseating to the people around you, but you didn’t care. You had missed out on so much time together and then you both nearly died in battle. You weren't about to let one another go for a while. It wasn't until Queen Daenerys spoke directly to Gendry that you even paid attention to anyone else.

You could hardly believe it when Daenerys pronounced that Gendry was no longer a bastard. He would be given the Baratheon name as well as all the lands of Storm's End and the title of "Lord". He thanked her profusely before turning to you. You let him lead you from the room once all the cheers had died down and everyone had stopped staring at him.

"Can you believe it? I'm a lord! I'm not a bastard anymore." You beamed at him. It wasn't like him to get so elated about things, so you were happy to let him enjoy the moment. "I can marry you," he said suddenly. He pulled you close to him again. "Marry me? Please say you'll marry me? We waited long enough." You laughed and nodded. "Of course I'll marry you, Gendry. You didn't even have to ask. Now come here and kiss your future bride."

Samwell married you and Gendry the night before the army was to leave for King's Landing. He'd had enough training and study with the Maesters to at least do that. You and Gendry decided to travel to Storm's End instead. "I think, if Dickon were alive, he'd want you to be happy," Sam had told you when you had asked him. You and Gendry headed out the next morning, blissfully happy in your new life. Together.

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @etherealpotter @line-viper @frozenhuntress67 @cd1242 @smalltownbigheart @gruffle1 @igotmadskills

#george r.r. martin #game of thrones #gendry waters #gendry baratheon #gendry waters x reader #gendry baratheon x reader #gendry x reader

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thisisgonnafuxkinkillme · 3 years

Text

Don’t Call Me That Anymore

Toshinori Yagi x Reader

Warnings:

Angst, body insecurity, big sad

Alcohol

SPOILER UNDER THE CUT!

(Post Retirement All might)

You walked alongside your boyfriend, your hand being loosley connected to his via your pinky. You dragged him to your favorite thrift shop, where you often liked to try on fancy abandoned ball gowns and take photos. Or, on days where you felt a little more casual, you’d search for some interesting clothes to wear.

Everything was fine, the little outing going along as usual. He’d generally stay by your side, his eyes wandering from the dull clothes you often would pick through.

It was when you heard a small gasp that you knew something was wrong. You glanced at the direction of his gaze, seeing an abandoned All Might figure laying on the floor, the price tag displaying proudly that it was 75% off.

“Even to be on sale at a thrift store, eh?” he mumbled to himself. His hand clutched his chest, trying to physically push the pain down and out of his frail body. You tried to pretend like you didn’t notice, and guided him to another aisle. Silently, you planned to leave as soon as possible.

---------------------------------------days later---------------------------------

You scrolled through your phone mindlessly, not really caring about the outside world this very moment. All that mattered right now was your loving boyfriend, who was sitting on the other side of the couch. He was mindlessly scrolling through the tv channels.

Suddenly, he paused. You didn’t notice it, that subtle shift in his attitude, the slight tension that grew within him, and the tiny hitched breath.

He clicked on it, and on screen was...him.

“So, All Might, what’s an average day like for you?” some well dressed reporter asked him. He flashed that crowd pleasing grin as he thought.

He had just finished fighting a villian, and had a small droplet of blood dripping down his forehead, threatening to drop into his intense yet amiable eyes.

“Well, I guess it’s like anyone else’s,” he said thoughtfully, “I just get up, drink some coffee, and-” the man on screen dissapeared, being replaced by a woman showing us the weekly weather. Again, Toshi said nothing, but his eyes were dark and his jaw was clenched. You grasped for his hand as he stood up. His knees popped and his back cracked, only reminding further that he was getting older and weaker. He clenched his fist and dissapeared into the bathroom.

You didnt know what to say or do, knowing that the wrong thing will only make things worse. Your heart ached deeply for him, but how could you help? Could you help?

That night, Toshi came home with something he usually never played with: alcohol. By this time, you had already forgotten about the incidents earlier.

“What’re you gonna do with that?” you teased. He smiled back weakly. Internally, his heart dropped. He’d been caught.

“You want some?” he offered nonchalantly. You nodded, taking a small shot. You never drank either, unlike other people your age, so when the alcohol passed your lips and slid down your throat, you couldn’t help yourself from sputtering and coughing. He patted your back gently.

“You alright there?”

You nod, smiling a little. If you’re honest, things like that were always so embarrasing. You hated him see you act your age.

He took a shot, too, smooth and quick. He noticed you stare, and grinned.

“I used to...a little, when I was younger.”

After the last two words, his eyes grew dark again.

when I was younger.

He poured himself another shot, swigging it down like nothing. You still felt the burning warmth of the shot you’d taken. You couldn’t stop yourself from worrying about how he’d probably be feeling right about now.

“Hey, uh, Toshi... don’t drink too much too fast or you’re gonna get sick,” you gently suggested.

“I will be fine...don’t you worry about me,” he reassured. You nodded, but didn’t really believe him. Is he fine anyway?

You relaxed on the couch, playing a video game on the switch as Toshi occupied himself with the tv and a deck of cards. He loved to play solitaire, even after being mocked by the students at UA when he’d bust out his worn deck during breaks.

Time passed, swiftly yet gently, but the silence got the better of you.

“Hey, Toshi, lemme get another shot of that stuff”

He didn’t respond. You looked up from the game to see that his cards were all mixed up, reds being on reds and the kings on top of the queens. He had his head gently resting on the cold, wooden table, eyes only staring at the tv blankly.

It’d been quite a few hours since he’d had his first shot, and it definately has worn in. Not too far from his card playing set up was a glass, 1/4 full of what you just assumed was orange juice. You now were suspicious, quietly taking it and giving it a sniff.

It certainly was orange juice, but there was something mixed with it. The alcohol smell burned your nose.

Your heart dropped, knowing that that orange juice was to the brim when he brought it in.

“Toshi...”

He flinched at his name, but still didn’t say anything. His eyes, though glazed over and pitiful, were focused on something. You glanced up at the screen, where an All Might documentary played.

You bent down to Toshi’s level, where he was sitting on the floor in front of the table, combing your fingers through his hair.

“Toshi, look at me.”

His eyes lazily found your face. He brought up his hand to your cheek.

“I-I’m ffine, dea-darlin..g..” he stumbled out, his speech slurred and laborious.

“Let’s get to bed, honey. I can help walk you there,” you offered. He protested futilely, as you pulled his arm over your shoulder and supported his weight with yours. He was mostly deadwight, making his 160 pounds feel more like thousands. You guided him down the hall, slowly but steadily, each step taking exponentially longer than a sober one would. He kept one hand on the wall.

His fingers grazed the frame of a photo. He looked at it.

It was All Might, proudly standing with a group of kids.

Toshi couldn’t hold it in anymore. He stood up, shakily but on his own, and pulled his fist back, swinging at it. Glass landed everywhere, and a small hole in the wall stared back at him.

He spit at the now broken photo at his feet.

“yo-you’re not e-ven real...n-no-not any...not anymore...I hate you...” he mumbled drunkenly. His hand fell limp to his side, scarlet blood shining against his pale, white skin. And dripping onto the floor.

You tried your best to hide your shock and you directed him into the bathroom, where the first aid kit was. He laid on the floor, pressing his face into the comforting coolness of the linoleom. You wanted to scream at him to knock it out, and to just get up, but you knew that even if he desperately wanted to, he wouldn’t be sober until the next morning.

You looked down at his small, skinny form, that lay breathing on the bathroom tile. You'd never seen Toshi, in any form, look as weak as he did now. Your heart ached. This wasn’t him.

Suddenly, he shot up and lurched towards the toilet, emptying the contents of his stomach. You rushed over to his side, moving his forelocks away from his face. He was pale, white as a sheet. The bags under his eyes were deeper and darker, and his usually bright blue eyes were dulled down to a muted navy. Tears pooled down his sunken cheekbones.

"n-no...go- get awa...y"

You said nothing, but ran cold water through a washrag, soaking it throughly. He remained hovering over the toilet, violently retching.

The alcohol was attacking his skinnied, sick body more than he thought it would. As you approached him with the rag in hand, he returned to the chilled floor.

You placed the rag on his sweaty forehead gently, rubbing his arm. He pushed you away as best as he could, still crying silently.

"p..ple-please, y/n...d-don't look at me...n-not like...not like this..." He choked out in-between sobs.

"I'm not going anywhere, babyboy. I'm sorry." You apologize, getting out some first aid supplies for his knuckles.

"...please...jus-just..."

You hushed him, gently taking his bloodied hand. He tried pulling away weakly, but to no avail.

"...let me...let me jus...take care of it...I can..." He mumbled. You paid him no mind as you quickly but effectively wrapped him up.

As soon as you were finished, he was back in front of the toilet again. Not much more was coming up, but the sickening retches and sobs still shook within his frail chest.

You bent down next to him, rubbing his back, whispering small words of praise and encouragement. He began to calm down a little as he sat against the wall of the bathroom. He started off into the distance.

"I...why can't I be like...like him anymore?" He muttered,

For a split second, you were confused.

“Like who, baby?”

His eyes stared into you, harsh enough to scald you. Realization hit.

“All Might?” You quietly asked, your hand moving towards his. He slapped it away half heartedly.

“n-no... that’s-he’s not- I-I’m not-“

He began to rip at his hair, his sobs getting louder and more violent. Fear grew inside of you, not knowing how to contain this small man that was so engulfed in despair and grief that he couldn’t see how wonderful he is as a person, not just as a hero.

Toshi got his worth from what he could do for others. He doesn’t feel like he deserves love, especially if he’s not giving it to someone else in just the right way. If he’s not helping anyone, what good is he? And in his smaller form, how could he help anyone?

You grabbed his wrists, making sure he couldn’t hurt himself anymore than he already has.

“Toshinori, please listen to me!” You begged. He went limp. He couldn’t catch his breath, and he was definitely hyperventilating.

“Take some nice, deep breaths for me, okay, sweetie?” You firmly yet sweetly ordered. You set the pace and he followed, his breaths shaky and labored. He calmed down quite a bit, and you loosened your grip on his wrists.

“Do you really love me?” He whimpered quietly.

“Oh, honey... of course I love you. I’ve always loved you, even before I knew who you were. Who you are.”

“You...you were right the first time. Were.”

“No, baby. When you go out in public, people still know you’re All Might, and-“

“Don’t... don’t call me... that name... please, not anymore.”

You didn’t even know how to respond to that. Your heart ached at his pitiful tone.

“Y/n... you don’t know what people... what they say about me now. They laugh and say that I’m just a toothpick. They... they whisper about how I don’t look so good, and about...” he began to cry again. This time, quietly, privately. He curled up into himself, tucking himself away from you and the rest of the world.

“Well, of course people will say things like that,” you began, “did you ever consider that there were some people who criticized All Might, too?”

“...what?”

“Listen, honeybee, people are always going to be saying bullshit like that. No matter who you are. But guess what? There’s always, always going to be more people who are excited to see you, who will always accept you, and who will always see every beautiful gift you have to offer to this world. I know how hard it’s been for you, but you need to know that you’re still so loved, so wanted, so needed in so many people’s lives.”

“Like who? Who could possibly...who could need someone like me?”

“Me. Toshi, I need you here. I love you. We met when you were in this form, in this very body. Don’t you remember?”

He nodded. You wiped away a tear gently.

“I loved you for who you are, not who you were or what you’ve done. For you.”

Shakily, he whispered, “I... I love you, too.”

For the first time that night, he clutched you closer to him. You pulled his head into your chest, as he nestled into you. You couldn’t help but spare a few tears, but he never knew that.

“Are you ready to go to bed?”

He nodded, his grip tightening around your shirt. You helped stand him up on his shakey, baby deer like legs. You led him down the hall, and he paused at the broken photo.

He gestured towards it, mumbling something.

“No, baby, don’t worry about that. I’m going to clean it all up.”

Finally, you arrived at the bed. You pulled back the duvet, readying it for him.

He laid into the soft mattress, sighing in relief.

You tucked him in, standing up. He reached his hand out, begging, “please...don’t leave...me...”

“I’m coming right back, honeydew. I just need to clean up the picture and turn everything off. Okay? Do you need a glass of water or anything?”

He shook his head. “Let... let me clean it up tomorrow, please.”

You ignored all of his pleas for you to leave him be earlier, but something told you that despite his drunken stupor, he really meant this one. You washed your face and tidied up the bathroom, quickly turning off the tv and getting his cards put up, and finally dumping the orange juice cocktail down the sink, along with the rest of the alcohol. Your heart panged, noting the tiny amount remaining in the crystal clear bottle.

Despite him denying his need for water, you brought him a tall glass of ice water along with a smaller glass of ginger ale, as well as a new chilled washcloth.

He was nearly asleep when you got back, but perked up at the sound of your footsteps.

You urged him to drink just a tiny bit of the water, and he obliged. You praised him heavily, placing a kiss on his cheek, before climbing into bed. He turned to face you, pulling you close to him. He kissed you on your forehead before drifting off into a deep, restful sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. You scrambled to get up and rushed into the kitchen, where you found Toshi sipping a modest cup of coffee, the photo of All Might placed in a brand new frame, proudly displayed on the kitchen table.

“Oh, Toshi! You scared me when you weren’t in the bed.”

He looked out the window, sighing deeply. He smiled at you, saying,

“Don’t worry... I am here.”

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