#and now here they both are absolutely DYING from these ridiculous urges that they thought they might’ve been above | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jeontaeil-archived · 3 years

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Turn Right Onto Oh Shit Avenue //

~ for @renhyucks "The First" collab ~

Pairing: Haechan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut, Crack, Non-Idol AU

Words: 2.27+

Warnings: 18+ content, Read at your own discretion

Your first road trip with your boyfriend Haechan was simply unforgettable.

You were out on a journey with no destination and that decision was proving to be worse than you thought. After getting on the path that you were on for four hours straight, Haechan suggested that you get off the highway and detour to a small little off-road lane. At first, the daring exit seemed promising. But before you knew it, you had driven over a sharp stone, thereby puncturing not only your front tire but also the back tire adjacent to it. Having only one spare, there was no way you could make the repair. To add to your misery, when Haechan attempted to call roadside assistance, he was unable to do so as there was no cell service. The only way you’d be able to get some help was if you went back to the main road. However, neither of you were willing to leave the car behind - even though you knew that no one would try and steal a broken down car - and so, after a competitive round of rock-paper-scissors, it was decided that Haechan would make the trip back to the highway on foot underneath the blistering midday sun while you sat in the car, chilling peacefully in the ac.

It took him quite a while to return. He came bearing good news. A tow truck would arrive at your location in about two to three hours. Until then, all you both needed to do was sit tight and try not to panic in the lifeless location that you were stranded in. That was easier said than done.

There wasn’t much of a view beyond the windows. Just miles and miles of dull, dead grass. Not having much to do other than sit idle, Haechan grew bored quickly. He turned to you with a stoic expression. “Wanna fuck?”

You scoffed at his ridiculous suggestion. “In the middle of nowhere? Umm, absolutely not,” you answered, earning a whine from him. “The fact that there’s no one here makes it like ten times more ideal. There’s no chance of us getting caught,” he urged. You rolled your eyes even though he had a point. “Still, I didn’t bring any condoms.”

Haechan narrowed his eyes at you. “When I suggested that we go on a road trip you should’ve known that car sex was included. I shouldn’t have had to explicitly state it.”

Was he being serious? If you guys hadn’t made this stupid detour and were still driving along the highway, was he going to pull over and bone you while unsuspecting civilians drove past you both? Or worse, would he book a room at some cheap hotel for twenty-something minutes of undeniable pleasure?

“Well too bad for you then,” you chided, crossing your arms. “If it was a part of your plan, you should’ve prepared better.”

Haechan threw his hands up. You were unbelievable. He never thought he’d see the day when you refused sex simply because you had no protection. “I can always pull out you know.”

You laughed sarcastically, though you actually found his words genuinely humorous. “I didn’t wanna be the one to tell you this, but your pull out game sucks ass Hyuck.”

Haechan gasped dramatically at your accusation, taking full offence. “Aren’t you the one who likes it messy? How can I not be messy if half-ass my pull out game?”

You raised your brows in a false sense of surprise. “So you’re telling me that you fake it then?”

“I don’t fake it. I just do it on purpose,” he corrects. You nodded, not believing him. “Oh really?”

“I could always prove it to you,” he presented triumphantly. You smirked. “Okay fine. Let’s fuck. but you can’t pull out and jerk yourself off. Otherwise, it won’t count.”

Haechan smiled and crashed his lips onto yours, pushing your seat back so that he could hover on top of you. He spread your legs apart, settling in between them and slipped his hand under your shirt, drawing small circles into your side. You tugged at his shirt, urging him to take it off. He was quick to do so, throwing the material in the back seat. Haechan peeled your shorts down your legs, bringing his hands to your clothed clit. You bucked your hips against his fingers, gasping into his mouth. Haechan took this as a chance to let his tongue run over yours. He squeezed your breast over your bra and pushed the flimsy fabric up to your neck. You fumbled with his pants, managing to grab his partially hardened cock. Haechan hummed and pushed his pants down all the way, letting his member spring free. You licked your lips in anticipation, playing with his tip. Haechan pushed your panties to the side and rubbed his tip along your plump folds. You held onto his arms when he finally pushed into you. He set a steady pace, rocking his hips into you comfortably. Your head fell back against the cool leather of the seat, legs spreading wider for him to go deeper. With one hand on your shoulder and the other on your thigh, Haechan kept his eyes glued to your cunt. He bit his lip, seething at how warm and tight your walls were. You began rubbing your clit, impatient to reach your climax. Haechan didn’t mind. In fact, he fucked you faster, pulling your body down the seat and throwing your legs over his shoulder. He held onto the headrest to maintain his momentum. Loud moans left your gaping mouth. The usually talkative Haechan said nothing, concentrating solely on his approaching high. You were the first to cum, walls clenching around his member. Haechan groaned as he felt your arousal gush down your walls, slicking up his cock. Gripping your thighs, he started rutting himself into you, ignoring your cries when the sensitivity started to settle into. Keeping your condition in mind, he hissed and kept going, right until he was about to nut.

An amused chuckle left you as he pulled out and haphazardly emptied himself over your pussy. You wrapped your fingers around him and stroked his length, milking him dry of every last drop.

“Does that count,” he asked, pulling his pants back up. He handed you a tissue to clean yourself up. “It barely makes the cut,” you replied, straightening yourself up again. Haechan snickered. “Just admit that you like it messy and we both win.”

About an hour into your wait for the tow truck, another disaster took place. The car’s battery gave out, leaving you to slow bake in the intense heat. Haechan had it easier, leisurely, splaying in his seat with his shirt off. You figured you could do the same, but there was no way of knowing when the towers would show up. Not wanting to waste the little amount of cool air in the car, Haechan forbade you from cracking the windows open. All you could do was sit and fan your face with the car’s insurance papers.

Almost a century later, a loud horn sounded from behind you on the road, startling you both. With a glance in the rearview mirror, you realised it was the towing people. Haechan scrambled to pull his shirt on and got out of the car, wincing as he shielded his eyes from the sun.

You watched Haechan talk to them from the window. He turned to you, motioning you to sit tight. After a while, They pulled your car up into the back of their truck and offered to take you back to their garage from where you both could book a cab and return to the city.

Since there was no space up front, they let you sit in your car, popping the windows open so that you wouldn’t die of suffocation. When the truck began moving, you were finally able to let out a breath of relief. It was still considerably hot out. But the sharp wind that hit your face was incredibly refreshing. Haechan’s once sweat matted hair was now fluffy and dry. Both of you were at ease, feeling grateful to have escaped that dreaded off-road where not a single soul was present. It was nice to be around life again.

It took some time but you eventually reached the garage in one piece. After collecting all your essentials from the car, you both headed out to a small diner nearby to recharge yourselves with some food and beverages. It was quiet between you, for the most part, both of you were equally exhausted from all the long and tedious travelling. It was safe to say that you’d lived out enough of your road trip fantasies for now.

After paying for your food, Haechan took out his phone, ready to book a cab. That’s the exact moment he realised that his phone was out of battery. A look of horror struck on his face. You cursed in frustration and pulled out your own phone. Luckily, it still had some charge, though barely surviving. Much to your dismay, however, you didn’t have a cab booking app and you knew downloading one would take ages. Still, you had to try.

As you had assumed, your phone ended up dying during your wait. Haechan was going to cry. Knowing that you both would be in the car for the majority of your trip, neither of you had brought your chargers. There was one back in the car but you couldn’t use it. Haechan was on the verge of tears. He had no idea what to do and neither did you.

“Should we just hitchhike?” Haechan stared at you blankly and shrugged. “Do we have any other choice?” You traced the rim of your cup, letting out a tired sigh. “Maybe we can spend the night at some motel and wait for our car to get fixed. We’ll have to come back to pick it up anyway so why not just stay till it’s ready?”

Haechan couldn’t argue with that. A waitress informed you of a cheap motel around the block. You both set out on foot, reaching it in no time. The building wasn’t too impressive. But it wasn’t like either of you were expecting much out of it anyways. You just wanted to lay on a soft bed and take a shower. You couldn’t stand how sticky and dewy your skin had gotten.

After booking a room, you both burst in through the door and headed straight for the bathroom. “Are we going in together,” Haechan asked when he saw you peeling your shirt off? You slipped behind the shower curtain and turned on the water without answering him. He got the memo and mimicked your actions before joining you in the small space. Leaning against his chest, you closed your eyes, letting the cool water cascade down your body. Haechan wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I can’t believe this is what our trip led to,” you spoke, snickering to yourself. Haechan scoffed. “At least we’ll never forget it.” You turned around, throwing your arms around his neck. “Never in a million years.” Haechan smiled at you, leaning forward to press a quick kiss on your lips. Pulling him closer, you kept his lips on yours a bit longer, not wanting it to end just quite yet. Haechan stumbled back towards the wall, smirking as things started to escalate. You could feel his member beginning to harden up. Haechan let out a choked moan when you took a hold of his length, pumping it with vigour. His fingers found your clit, rubbing quick circles into it. “Fuck, turn around,” Haechan voiced, switching places with you. He pulled your hips back, bringing his tip to your entrance. Pressing your face to the cool bathroom wall, you moaned as he stretched you out with his cock. Haechan gradually brought himself to a steady pace, grunting in delight. Your head fell back, breathy moans filling the expanse of the small bathroom. This was the perfect way to destress after your terrible day.

You guys had quite a lot of fun in that motel room. Two times in the shower and once on the bed. Now, you two laid next to each other, naked and completely drained. Haechan giggled at the ticklish sensation of your fingers drawing shapes on his chest. You were cuddled up into his side, leg thrown over his lap underneath the covers. Both of you were seconds away from falling asleep.

“You know what y/n,” Haechan whispered, not wanting to disturb the peaceful ambience of the room. You hummed, looking up at him. “I think we should go trekking.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous idea. “After today I don’t think we should ever leave the house unsupervised,” you retorted. Haechan shook his head. “Just think about it. We get lost in the mountains and get a chance to see life through Tarzan’s eyes.” He sounded fascinated by the thought. You rolled your eyes. “Shut up and go to sleep. You’re going crazy.” Haechan groaned. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s sleep.”

He turned on his side, facing you. Snuggling deeper into him, you wrapped your arm around his hip, sighing into his neck while closing your eyes. His gentle and calm breaths were like a silent lullaby, helping you drift off. Just before you blanked out, Haechan gasped. “What is it now,” you asked, ready to kick him if he said something stupid? “I think I left our keys at home.”

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nuclearnerves · 3 years

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INCOMING VAMPIRE AU THOUGHTS

Don't mind me I'm finally getting the ideas I had on this shit out so I can actually go forward with developing it as an AU. It's my usual mixup of fps protags, Gordon Guy and John, but I'm starting with Gordon as the Vampire and Guy as the Vampire Hunter.

absolute beast of a wall of text under the cut

What If Being A Vampire Literally Sucks All The Time Forever like chronic pain sucks. like THAT level of sucks. Like Here's what I was thinking of. Being a vampire isn't just "being alive forever but you need to drink human blood" It's like Oh man I have some lore you look at vampires and their main thing is that they're blood suckers right so lets start with a corpse dead body. cadaver. no longer with us. just some rotting meat. The brain needs oxygen as fuel. The blood supplies the oxygen through blood. The blood is pumped through the heart. The blood is made by your bone marrow. You die. Your heart stops beating Blood stops pumping Brain no longer has oxygen to think marrow stops making blood thats standard! Now, becoming undead, as a vampire, is a little more complicated. The long and short of it is: your body is FIGHTING ACTIVELY to be alive against all odds and wins every time (immortality), but it hurts the whole way

I have the gist of it. It's like. Your heart stops. By all means, you should be dead. but the magic kicks in, and you're still thinking. Your brain is still sending signals to your muscles to move. But using what oxygen to move? whats burning in you? You don't know but you know it's just enough to get to your next meal. So you ferociously eat something, and then find you can't swallow. You can't make saliva. You barely have the energy to chew, and once you DO get something in your stomach, it immediately comes back up. Why can't you feel your pulse? What's going on? You're out of options so you figure you might as well just lie down and die. You're too tired to keep going anyway. So you do, you lie down, and you close your eyes, and you quietly hope that death is as peaceful as sleep. You realize you've actually been moving around without breathing, which makes sense because you can barely flex your diaphragm for more than a shaky wheeze. How are you thinking with such little oxygen? But as you fade from consciousness, you can feel something in you, and it's so upset, it's crying, it's filled with grief, and you instantly can tell it's your skeleton. It's your bones. You're distraught down to your marrow. You're dying. You're dying! Your heart stopped and you have no more blood! You need blood! You need blood to move! To breathe! To think! You try to breath deep again for the voices in your bones, trying to comfort them, to sooth them with the repetitive motion in your lungs, trying to fill yourself with anything but grief, but they keep wailing. We make the blood, our creation, our child, what we put all of our work into is gone! gone! gone! We need it back! Anything! All of it! Find it! Bring it back to us! We're hungry! WE'RE HUNGRY!

and once you find yourself too exhausted to listen, to think, how badly you wish just to die already to cease hearing this wailing, you find your body moving without you. And it's hungry and it's searching and it's crawling on all fours and it misses its beautiful red life that made it feel so full before and it needs it back, and the next thing you know you're desperately grabbing anything with blood in it and shoving it in your mouth in a desperate attempt to sooth this cry for life, you don't want to die, you don't want to die, you worked so hard to keep up this body and craft it and LIVE with it and you're not going to go, and even when you try, even when you try to lay down and die, your body refuses, it takes the reigns, and it keeps up the work itself with or without your help. And it's not until your stomach is full and your teeth are stained and you feel a pulsating burning in your bones that you snap back awake, completely conscious, just fine. You're lucid, you don't feel any more pain. Everything around you is dead and drained and messy and your heart still isn't beating. but you can breathe now and holy shit you guess you literally need to kill to survive and the less you eat and the more you starve yourself the worse it gets when your body finally decides to take recourse.

my idea was like. "the vampires curse is actually stored in the bones, thats why the teeth get so sharp and also theres a connection between blood and bones with the creation via bone marrow" its literally like i was sitting there thinking "no no no, whats it like to be a vampire. what neurosis would you develop. How would you panic? What are common mistakes beginner vampires make" which, by the way, gordon is a beginner vampire

so now you gotta factor, what blood lasts for how long? how long can you go between meals? not only that, but what creatures satisfy the urge? How long can you go avoiding human blood? Does it work like drugs where you develop a resistance to the high, or is it like food where it will keep you moving until you eat again? How the fuck are you gonna get your hands on blood? Can you just eat raw meat? Does that count? and thats where im at lol

OKAY now. now thoughts on beginning scenes of vampire au

So my idea was this Doomguy is a vampire hunter independent and one of his buds says that some freak scared and almost attacked his daughter when she got too close to his old abandoned laboratory up the hill and hes like “he might be… you know… a problem. if you needed a lead” and guys like yeah i fuckin hate the undead ill kill this dude so he busts into old lab space and sees so many dead animals its actually mostly Bones and pelt that hes seeing piles of feathers etc so hes like yeah this is all telltale signs of vampire uhhh hes introduced to gordon SOMEHOW im not totally sure of the details but the working idea i have is guy falls into a trap gordon devised that restrains him suspended in wire or something and gordon like. limps/stumbles into the room and this dude looks haggard he’s breathing heavy, his cheeks are hollow, he’s bug-eyed and shaking while looking at this massive wall of meat in his trap and he bares a bunch of hideous teeth and grits them and looks like hes really struggling with somethin... Like if these dudes don't know each other then Gordon might give in and try to drain Guy, and Guy would absolutely do anything in his power to turn this new vampire into ash, im thinking the inclusion if g-man as a coven leader can fix both issues.

i like the idea of guy falling into gordons trap and gordon thinking about what to do with him before gman shows up and whisks gordon away for a “meeting” while complimenting him on his good work catching the most feared vampire hunter in the country and gman just leaving guy suspended in wires that he has to fight his way out of. Instant situation defuser.

Guy ends up needing to take care of other monsters before going back to Gordon, and he DOES plan to go back to gordon, because no vampire is a good one, especially not one associated with the fucking head of a coven, but next time he sees Gordon, Gordon helps him out of a scrape by attacking and draining a combine who was going to take Guy out or something and escaping before Guy can catch him, or otherwise seeing Gordon do something good with his insane undead powers and like, the third time he meets up with him is when they can actually talk, and Gordons fuckin SO haggard, he’s not even fighting back and he’s even going as far as to say “just make sure theres nothing of me left when you’re done, I don’t want anyone else getting hurt”

Side Note: Guy has a bunch of scarring on his body from dealing with vampires, cops, ghosts, werewolves, anything violent that kills people. I'm playing with the inkling of an idea that he has Divine Blood in him, so that any time something undead bites him or tries to drink his blood, it burns. We'll see.

Side Note 2: now i really like the idea of the combine actually being an organized faction of vampire hunters that are WICKED crooked and exploit people for all their worth in exchange for their “safety” when they kill a vampire They’re essentially loansharks and Guy fucking hates them and hates the name theyve given to vampire hunting

Side Note 3: You've probably noticed that I haven't said anything about John yet! He's in this too. His species is a surprise but I need to get to him later I have an idea for where he came from (Cortana too)

I still need a good reason for Guy to not instantly kill this vampire, if not it's just gonna be "Gordon Freeman escapes the countrys best vampire hunter like a seventh time" every time they meet and they end up being rivals. And it gives Guy enough time to look past the whole "undead monster" thing and start looking at the "Oh this dude figured out how to fight his ridiculous craving for blood in a way more humane than most and is actually staying out of peoples way and keeping to himself. Guess he's not that big of a threat but I still need to keep an eye on him in case he loses it. Turns out he's got a family (Probably Alyx, Eli, Issac and Barney) who's been lookin for him and cares about him as well, don't wanna hurt them". I like the idea of them ending up needing to team up to take out undead together.

And that's what I got so far!!!

#freeguy #gordon freeman #doomguy #vampire au #freeguy117

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anotheranimestan · 4 years

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Asking the Boys to Deal with Mineta for You: Shinsou

Shinsou style revenge + a lil spice for ya at the end

wc: 2.4k

Read the Bakugo ver. here

After hiding in the ladies restroom for about 5 mins you finally got that icky feeling off your body from Mineta and what he did

He was even drooling this time and you had to keep yourself from gaging

You cautiously make your way down the hall to class completely dreading that you’re going to have to see him again so soon

Or ever again for that matter

On your way, you see your crush walking down the hall

Already feeling relieved you call after him

I can’t decide who I want more....Aizawa or his adopted son (that better be cannon or I’m quitting)

Just look at him 😳

“Shinsou!” You whispered loudly at him.

He stopped in his tracks and twisted around looking for the source of the noise. His heart rate increased when he realized it was you, waving him over.

“Hey y/n.” He breezed before seeing the expression on your face. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t even know where to start. How do you tell someone you were just harassed by a hero student. To someone who was wrongly placed in general studies nonetheless. Bumped out by one of your classmates.

“Well...I need your help. If you’re not busy...”

“I was just going—“ he paused with an expression as if he realized he was talking in gibberish. “What is it?”

“It’s...Mineta again.”

He looked at you blankly. You forget that the rest of the school isn’t caught up with class 1-A’s antics all the time.

“Right right. Well he’s the one with the balls—“

“Yea I know who he is but...what’d he do?”

This was painful to squeak out. Embarrassing. Especially to the guy you’d crushed on hard for a long time now. The one you gushed about every day to Mina. So much that she was sick of you.

“Well I was walking into the locker room to change for combat training and he came out of nowhere and bumped into me and...”

He stared at you, holding onto every word. Waiting for the punchline.

“And?”

“And I definitely saw a flash!” You cringed.

“I’m pretty sure he took a picture like...under my skirt!” You said tugging the fabric down at he thought.

His eyebrows flicked up in shock. His face contorted into disgust then annoyance.

“Seriously?”

You nodded. He composed his face back into his normal sleepy, unfazed look.

“So this is what they let go on in 1-A huh?”

Normally you’d bristle at his jabs at your class. But this time he wasn’t wrong. Mineta was a dirty little smear on class 1-A’s reputation. Plus, you really wanted his help. You were so fed up.

“I was too freaked out to you know...do anything.” He nodded in understanding. “But I really wish someone would do something. Go talk to him or something. This is really getting out of hand.”

He shifted around uncomfortably. Shaking his head slightly. Like this was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard all day. The fact that people were just letting this dickhead reek havoc on someone as sweet as you? He’d have ripped his head off by now.

He mumbled something about hero students really getting on his nerves. His usual spiel.

“So...you’ll talk to him?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry.”

His words were soothing but the grin across his face was definitely not keeping you from worrying.

“Wait—“

“C’mon.” He said turning on his heels and heading in the direction you came.

He always walked with his hands in his pockets and leaning back on his heels like he was never in a rush for anyone or anything. Somehow he always had that calm and collected aura about him, like absolutely nothing you threw at him could faze him. It was attractive as hell and the exact reason why you were following him. You were sort of excited to see this play out.

Mineta v. Shinsou

Finally you rounded the corner to find Mineta still camped outside the locker room facing the door.

You scoffed in disgust. Your eyes zeroed in on the camera in grubby little his hands.

Shinsou gently put his arm out against your stomach to motion for you to wait there as he neared him.

You were nervous, anxious, excited.

“Hey 1-A.” Shinsou’s voice was casual but scarily unfriendly. “How’s it going?”

Mineta turned to him. Not noticing you standing in the background.

“Oh err hi Shinsou.” He said unexpectingly.

“Someone asked me to come find you and tell you something.”

“Really?” His nasally voice sounded pathetic in comparison to Shinsou’s smooth sultry one.

“Yea. But I think they were too nice. So I’m going to embellish a little on their behalf.”

“Uhh—?”

“What the fuck are you doing?” His voice was still so casual if you didn’t see the deadly serious look on his face you’d think he was chatting it up with a friend.

Your heart started racing. He didn’t seem this upset earlier!

“I’m—I’m just uhh...”

He couldn’t possibly be able to admit what he was actually doing right now.

“I should kick your ass man. Maybe report you so you’d never make it as a hero. But instead I think I’ll—”

“Shinsou wait dude—“ he was trembling.

Shinsou hadn’t even moved an inch. And he was still easily six feet away from him, his hands relaxed in his pockets. But he was all dark intimidation. Just his glare was throwing Mineta into a panic attack.

“Okay I’m sorry!! I didn’t mean to do it!” The offender started bawling.

Shinsou chuckled with no humor.

“How does one ‘accidentally’ take a picture up someone’s skirt?”

No response.

“What? Now you forgot how to answer a simple question?”

Mineta had to wipe some snot from his nose before speaking again. “I—“

He abruptly ceased trembling and his eyes went blank.

You gasped. Shinsou was using his quirk on him!?

“Y/n close your eyes.” He instructed you softly.

The alarm was going off in your head.

“What?! What are you—” You whispered loudly.

“Please? Quickly.” His voice was sharply contrasted to the way he’d been scaring Mineta.

You slapped both hands over your eyes. Praying that you weren’t about to hear a murder.

Your heart and your breathing were so loud you almost couldn’t hear them over your own panic.

“Strip.” He instructed his victim. “All the way down.”

Oh my god oh my god oh my god was just repeating in your mind over and over.

You heard fabric rustling. Mineta however wasn’t making a sound.

“Now take your sock and put it on your...”

Shinsou started speaking much lower now but you didn’t need to hear to guess what Mineta was putting his sock over right now.

You shuttered at the thought.

After a few moments of agonizing waiting in silence, dying to know what was going on, you yelped at the touch of a hand on the small of your back.

“Shhh. Keep these closed.” Shinsou urged as his large hand slid over both yours as a reinforcement.

He whisked you away with haste, trying to stifle his laugh as you two shuffled through the hall.

“Shinsou!!! Are you crazy?!” You whisper yelled as you flew.

He laughed more in response. “Probably.”

Just then several guys shrieked loudly from the direction you came.

Immediately recognizing it as Denki and Sero. You heard them screaming a couple “what the fuck”s at whatever god awful sight Shinsou had left them.

“Kaminari!” You said, another wave of panick flushing through you.

But then Denki and Sero’s hysterical laughter filled the halls as Mineta, who must have came to life again, started shrieking and sobbing.

A second later you heard Mina and Hagakure screaming and yelling at Mineta to put his clothes back on.

What the fuck was going on right now!?

Soon they were almost out of earshot as Shinsou’s arm that was wrapped around your waist wrangled you to a hault. Your hands slapped with cold from the absence of his warmth as he took his reinforcement hand away.

“Okay. You can open your eyes now.” He said not at all breathless from fleeing the scene like you were.

You slowly opened your eyes to find Shinsou signature sleepy eyes peering down at you. His face was only a few inches away as you two were tucked inside a doorframe. He was pretty. Even prettier this close.

You felt your cheeks get hot as the corner of his mouth tilted up into a little smirk.

He found the confused wild look on your face very cute. As if you’d never done something this questionable in your life.

You were so busy staring at his smooth looking lips that you’d forgotten to speak.

“Well that was....do you think we went too far?” You asked feeling guilty for some reason.

“No.” He said in quiet confidence. “I just gave him a little taste of harassment. So he knows how good it feels.”

You giggled nervously. He really was crazy. It was so attractive...

“Also...” he went to reach for something in his pocket. The shifting cased his body to lean forward. Bringing your lips even closer to touching. “I think you’ve got some private business to take care of with this.”

He dangled the cheap silver little digital camera by its handle in the air between your faces.

You exhaled. True relief finally washing over you. In all the commotion you’d forgotten about it.

“Oh thank god.” You said on a breathe out.

He flicked his head in the camera’s direction, motioning for you to take it.

It kind of grossed you out, holding Mineta’s perv weapons. But you powered through, powering it on and checking the gallery.

Sure enough there it was. Your indecent photo immediately popped up on the screen. He hadn’t gotten a good shot anything but you were still disturbed nonetheless. You cringed in embarrassment. You looked up to see if Shinsou was trying to take a peek. But you were met with only his eyes scanning every inch of your face intently with a lustful face. He wasn’t interested in looking at anything else.

You’d been so absorbed in the photo that you

didn’t notice he’d shifted his body to shield you from the hall to have this private moment. Nobody was out there but you still felt better knowing he was concerned for your privacy.

This also meant he was leaning an arm against the wall next to you ear. Dangerously close. You could almost feel his warm breath on your cheek.

You were biting your lip. As if he wasn’t already drawn to them enough, there you went pulling more blood to them to make them even plumper and delicious looking.

The thank you that escaped your lips was so soft it barely tickled his ears. But it was enough to make his chest swell with pride and satisfaction. He started to say you’re welcome but as his lips parted to speak yours pressed into them. Molding around his bottom lip and sucking gently.

His hand settled on your cheek to pull you in a little closer. Savoring the moment a little longer. The softness of your skin and the smoothness of your lips sending him into sensory bliss. He’d been waiting to see what you felt like since he first saw you walking by his general studies class. You’d smiled at him. You were probably just being polite but he never stopped thinking about how he was going to make this moment right here happen.

Never imagining it would happen like this.

His kiss was short and sweet. He had to use every bit of his self control to pull himself off of you. He didn’t want to scare you off no matter how damn irresistible you were being right now.

He’d always thought you were pretty but right now, while the adrenaline was pumping, you were beyond that. He was reveling in the idea of being your little unconventional hero right now. Hoping he’d get another chance to do it again soon.

His body was pressed against you and you could feel the camera getting smushed. Sadly he pulled away and your body instantly depressed at the absence of his weight on you.

“Feeling better now?” He asked in his usual calm and collected voice.

“Yes. A strange way to get there though.” He smiled at your giggle.

Reminded of the only task he’d left to you, you raised the camera and pressed the delete button. Shutting it off before you could find out what other things he had on there.

“Can you get rid of it?” You said handing him the camera back. Not wanting anything to do with it. “Throw it in a lake or something I don’t know.”

He took it easily and clicked out the SIM card.

“How about something more fun.”

To your surprise he, with no struggle, bent the SIM card in half. Breaking it and then dropped the camera on the floor.

You choked at the loud crunching noise the metal made as he stomped on it.

“Oh my god.” You said laughing. He was confirmed crazy.

“What? It’s the best way in my opinion. Give it a stomp.”

“No.” You said giggling uncontrollably now as he nudged your ticklish spot.

“You really should. How often do you get to stomp on Mineta’s shit?” He insisted, amused by your reaction to his poke.

“Okay okay.” You caved as you pressed on it with your foot, breaking the glass.

“What?” He said with a disappointed eyebrow. “That was the worst stomp I’ve ever seen. I thought you were in the hero course y/n.”

You rolled your eyes and gave it a better kick, to his satisfaction. He chucked the SD card in a garbage can and picked up the mangled camera.

“Let’s go see if that 1-A phone charger is still laughing.” He said grabbing your hand and tugging you along with him. “Plus...” he wiggled the camera, “I have to give Mineta his property back.”

You snorted. “I don’t think he’ll be getting within fifty feet of you any time soon. Good luck chasing him down.”

He grew a wicked grin at the thought. “Should be fun.”

He whisked you away faster and you both flew down the hall cheesing at what had easily become one of your favorite memories together at UA.

😩👆stop it.

General tags from my masterlist: @edgyb1tch @waywardcowboyllamavoid @ladybeautiful18

Like my masterlist to be added!

#bnha shinsou #fanfic #mha #mha fanfiction #fluff #mha fluff #mha headcanons #mha scenarios #shinsou x y/n #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou #mha shinsou #shinsou imagine #shinsou fluff #shinsou angst

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aquagirl1978 · 3 years

Text

To New Beginnings - Lovestruck AU Fanfic - Various Love Interests

A/N: I thought I was done with the original trilogy, but Antares returning brought a fourth chapter out of me. In this chapter, the group gathers to say goodbye to the LIs that are returning for new routes. I was inspired by @aliboo's amazing artwork in where she created "glam" portraits of some LIs (permission granted by @aliboo to repost)

Credit to @violettduchess for creating this amazing AU where all the retired LIs continue to exist - her story can be found HERE.

Warnings: None

Tagging: @mcira @enchantedlovestruckfan @otakufangirl-12 @fan-girl-2 @remys-lucky-franc

****************************

"Here you go, Nikolai. Just as you asked," she said with a wink as she pressed the martini into his hand. "Shaken, not stirred."

"Niko, you've truly taken to the notion of the masquerade party, completely transforming yourself into your chosen character," Remy announced as he swept into the room. He sat across from Nikolai in a plush velvet lounge chair and crossed an ankle over his knee. "Aeryn, is my tea ready yet?" he asked, a faint Russian accent slipping into his voice.

Nikolai peered at Remy over his martini glass, his brows furrowed. "Now who are you supposed to be?"

"Why you, of course!" Remy exclaimed, his green eyes sparkling with joy. "Onyx was kind enough to find me some turtlenecks. You remember your phase years ago when all you wore were these things?" Remy tugged at the neck with his fingers. "How did you do it, these are dreadfully constricting?" When he noticed Nikolai's mouth agape, with no words coming forth, Remy continued, returning to his French accent. "Anyway, I thought you'd be flattered I chose to dress as you, Niko."

"I'm not sure flattered is the word I would choose. Perhaps, instead..."

"He's flattered, Remy," Aeryn interjected, placing a gentle hand on Nikolai's thigh. "He's just not there yet."

"Oh no, no. Not more of this!" Nikolai shouted when Jett and Leon entered the room. Jett was dressed in a crisp white shirt and tailored black suit jacket. Leon was sporting a plaid button-down shirt and black suspenders.

"When Remy told us who he was dressing as, we thought we'd join in the fun," Jett said. "I also never thought I'd ever get Leon to wear my suspenders."

"How much convincing did he need?" Remy asked.

"Not nearly as much as you'd think," Jett replied, gently elbowing Leon in the ribs. "It suits you, Daddy," Jett added with a smirk.

Leon's cheeks immediately turned pink. "Stop. Just stop."

"Don't you two look cute," Sevastian snickered, leaning lazily against the wall.

Nikolai nearly dropped his glass. "Now who are you supposed to be?" His face was blanched; Nikolai looked truly terrified by the wicked prince.

Sevastian pushed himself from the wall and made his way to the nearby mirror to fix his hair in the reflection. "Dave...something?"

"David Bowie!" Jett shrieked in Nikolai's ear as he plopped down next to him on the couch.

Nikolai arched an eyebrow. "I assume you had something to do with this?" Nikolai gestured towards Sevastian.

"I think you look great," Aeryn offered, ignoring Nikolai.

"You think so?" Sevastian asked sincerely to which Aeryn nodded. "Do you think she will come?" he whispered, speaking only to her.

Today was a special occasion. Normally, this group of retired LIs celebrated when an LI joined them when their route ended. But today...today they say goodbye to some of their friends. Antares, Nova and Aurora were leaving them to start new adventures with new MCs. To mark this momentous occasion, some of the current LIs and MCs were coming to bring them back.

Sevastian, of course, sent word to his MC, inviting her to join him at this party. He went as far as to tell her he was dressing up, and with Jett's help, gave her an idea or two of who she could come as.

"Yes," Aeryn replied, smiling. "Of course, she will come. And I'm dying to meet her!" Sevastian brightened, a small smile forming on his lips.

Remy stood and clapped his hands. “Let’s go mingle with the others. Can’t hide here in our little corner all night,” he added with a chuckle, winking at Nikolai. The group stood and followed Remy to the party. Nikolai begrudgingly joined them, Aeryn’s hand clasped firmly in his.

“How’s this all going to work…an LI paired with a new MC?” Jett asked as they entered the main room. The party was in full swing, with some of the partygoers dressed in costume and others remaining in their regular clothes. Unlike parties of the past, the music was not loud and booming, but rather somewhat subdued. There was a sense of sadness lingering in the room; usually these parties were to welcome a friend, not say goodbye to one.

“It’s cheating, if you ask me,” Leon replied, grabbing a glass of champagne from a nearby tray. “I would never want to return with a new LI.” Leon smiled at Aeryn as he spoke, his eyes twinkling with love.

“I agree with Leon. I would never want to come back with a new MC,” Nikolai added, placing a sweet kiss on the top of Aeryn’s head.

“I would gladly come back,” Remy interjected.

“That’s simply because you only got 4 seasons,” Nikolai said with a smirk. Remy scoffed, mock affronted.

“Oh look,” Aeryn said while grabbing Nikolai’s arm, an obvious move to change subjects. “Look at Atlas! Is he --?”

Nikolai peered over Aeryn’s shoulder, observing the pilot in the distance. Atlas was wearing a shabby black vest over a plain shirt that once upon a time might have been white. His MC was with him, her hair in a style he could only describe as appearing to be cinnamon buns. Atlas was, much to Nikolai’s shock, positively glowing. His cheeks were a ruddy red and he was roaring with laughter.

“He is most definitely plastered!” Jett snickered.

“He’s just excited the Emperor is leaving. Means more time with his MC,” Sevastian noted wistfully.

"Where's Antares, Nova and Rory?" Remy questioned.

"Nova and Rory said their goodbyes last night. Antares early this morning," Leon answered. "They wanted their final moments to be private. As they should be." The group murmured in silent agreement.

“Speaking of MCs…. shouldn’t the others be here by now?” Aeryn asked, glancing around the room. Off to the side, Aeryn spotted Darius chatting with Cal and Wrath. Only Darius was dressed up in a leather jacket and, for some unknown reason, wearing sunglasses indoors. Aeryn couldn’t put her finger on who he was supposed to be, but knew he was trying to be someone.

“Slater,” Nikolai groaned painfully, “please tell me you were not responsible for that.” Nikolai pointed an angry finger at Sascha. The entire group cringed as they watched Sascha dance dramatically around the room, dressed all in black, his face covered in black and white markings.

“Bloody hell,” Jett uttered. “No. Absolutely no. I had nothing to do with that.”

"Does anyone know who that is?" Aeryn points out an attractive brunette dressed in a maroon off-the-shoulder jumpsuit.

"She's kinda cute," Remy leered. Nikolai rolled his eyes at the Frenchman.

"She reminds me of my race car driving days, but I don't know her from anywhere," Leon reminisced. "Maybe she is..."

"They're here, they're FINALLY here!" Onyx's voice rang throughout the room.

Sevastian nervously glanced around the room, his fingers fidgeting by his sides. They're here; she is here. That is, if she came. What if she's not here? What if she wanted to, but couldn't come?

Sevastian was so preoccupied by his rambling thoughts that he didn't notice Aeryn approached him until she was under his nose. "You won't find her standing here," she said softly, urging him to search for his love.

With a smirk, Sevastian turned, and headed towards the crowd. Please let her be here, please, please, please. He thought it was her when he spotted a flash of red in the crowd, but it was only Cecelia. And he ran into Darius again. He stopped and began to seriously fret that perhaps his love just couldn't come. And then he felt it.

It hit him so fast; their connection had laid dormant for so long that he almost didn't recognize it. He didn't need to see her to know she was there, he felt her. Their connection tugged at his heart as a sense of serenity washed over him, stilling him to his spot.

A pair of hands slid over Sevastian's eyes as a familiar voice tickled his ear. "I almost didn't recognize you." Krystal felt his body slump against hers in quiet relief. He moved her hands from his eyes down to his lips, where he brushed a kiss on the inside of her wrist, before finally settling her hands around his waist. "So warm," she teased, as she soaked in his scent. He huffed out a small laugh as he intertwined his fingers with hers, enjoying the press of her body against his.

He shifted in her arms, unable to wait even a second longer. He had to see her, taste her, feel her. He cradled her face in his hands; his eyes gazed down upon her, admiring her like she was his own special gem, while his thumbs grazed her pink cheeks.

“I missed you.” Her lip trembled as she whispered the words. Krystal looked up at him expectantly, her turquoise eyes full of love, shimmering against the lights of the party. His thumb brushed against her lower lip, causing Krystal to sigh and shiver against his taut body.

With eyes closed, his mouth found hers. He buried his hands in her hair, pulling her closer to him. Breathing in her sweet, floral scent, the scent he gave her, he deepened the kiss, his tongue twisting and twirling around hers. They soon parted, both panting, foreheads still touching.

He eventually pulled back, curious to see how she looked. His breath hitched when he saw what she had done to herself – her fiery locks were teased, curls spilling down past her bare shoulders, and on her face, her skin was adorned with sparkling jewels and gems.

“You’re ridiculous.” She slid her hands in the open cut of his shirt, resting her palms on his bare chest, his heartbeat quickening under her touch. “A very sexy ridiculous, but still…” She rose on tiptoe and placed a quick kiss on his lips. “Ridiculous.”

“And you, my love, are magnificent.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, nudging her closer, and kissed her again. They stood there, embraced in one another’s arms for what felt like both an eternity and a split second. “I have some friends I’d like you to meet,” he murmured tentatively into her hair.

Taking his hand in hers, Krystal looked up at his, smiling brightly. “I’d love to.”

After introducing Krystal to the group, everyone gathered by the bar for a much-needed drink.

“I see he is still having fun,” Leon pointed to the pilot, who was surprisingly still standing after all this time.

“Let the lovebirds have fun, Leon!” Aeryn chided.

“I agree,” added Krystal. She nuzzled against Sevastian as he wrapped his arms tightly around her.

Leon, Jett and Remy all look down into their drinks and groaned in unison. Nikolai shared a knowing look with Sevastian, winking at the Winter Prince. It was good to see him smiling again.

“What does someone have to do to get a drink around here?” a voice from behind called out arrogantly.

“Spoiled by your private bar, eh, Emperor?” Atlas called out from the other side of the bar. Antares sighed and shook his head. He glanced over by the pilot, and saw his MC.

His face immediately fell, and he awkwardly adjusted his necktie. “Stupid blasted costume,” he muttered to himself. “Should have worn my uniform, would have been happier…” Antares looked over at his MC again. She was holding Atlas’ hands, leaning into every word he was saying. Probably regaling her with some stories about his days with the Union. Antares scoffed. Antares had stories, many more left to be told. Only now they will be shared with a new MC.

He picked up his glass of honey wine and before he could take a sip, he noticed everyone staring at him. “Yes?”

“Let’s make a toast,” Remy announced. He held his glass up and the others followed. “To new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings,” Antares whispered.

#lovestruck #fanfic #fanfiction #lovestruck fanfiction #reigning passions #queen of thieves #sevastian of the winter #nikolai stirling #jett slater #remy chevalier #leon kwan #antares fairchild #atlas molniya #starship promise

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stars-are-just-ghosts · 3 years

Note

4 + 15 for harrisco if you're still taking prompts?

(Absolutely! Sorry for the delay! I hope you enjoy it!)

Cisco was scrubbing roughly at the wide, red streak on his 'Will Work For Coffee' t-shirt, grumbling as his attempts to clean the mess his meatball sub had made only managed to make the stain spread. He and Harry ate lunch together and played card games in Harry's room on Sundays. It had become sort of a ritual after Cisco had just shown up with burritos one rainy Sunday afternoon. Since then, the shorter man had taken it upon himself to track Harry down and feed him against his will. Not that Harry was entirely complaining about that.

The truth was, he enjoyed getting to be alone with Cisco Ramon. He had for quite a while now. The man was increasingly becoming the epicenter of Harry's happiness. It wasn't anything he would admit. After all, he was intensely aware that not only was Cisco an incredibly intelligent, soft-hearted, humorous, damn beautiful man, but Harry was so far out of his league that they weren't even in the same sport. He would never say that to Cisco, though. He didn't need to inflate the shorter man's ego.

He sat back in his chair, setting his napkin down after wiping his hands and then folding his arms as he continued to patiently watch Cisco struggle. Eventually, Ramon tossed the washcloth Harry had given him down on the small two-seater table and huffed a frustrated breath. "Harry, come on, this is my favorite shirt! Don't just sit there." He whined. Harry raised a brow, meeting Cisco's annoyed gaze.

"I'm dying to know how you think I can help in this situation." He stated flatly. Cisco clenched his jaw and stood up, pointing at him.

"You're the one who wanted meatballs subs!" Cisco proclaimed, face a little red.

"And you're the one who eats like a toddler." Harry countered easily. Cisco made a strangling motion in his direction before dropping his hands and looking down at his shirt with a final defeated sigh. It made Harry chuckle, and he shook his head, standing and moving to the other side of the room. He rifled through one of his dresser drawers and pulled out a sweater. Most of his shirts would probably be too long for Cisco. But it would give him something to wear that didn't look like Ramon had lost a food fight with a gorilla. "Here." Harry said, holding it out to him. For a moment, Ramon looked dubious, squinting slightly. "It's not going to explode if you take it, Ramon." Harry urged, motioning the shirt at him.

"Ya never know with you." Cisco said, snagging the shirt and ignoring Harry's eyeroll entirely. "Are you gonna want this back or can I keep it?" Then he just grabbed the edges of his t-shirt and pulled it up. Before Harry could answer the question, or think to turn away, or give Cisco some semblance of privacy, the long-haired man was nude from the waist up. And Harry's mind was instantly malfunctioning.

Because Harry had always been incredibly attracted to Cisco Ramon. Standing this close, with the smell of Ramon's aftershave mingling between them, and the look of Cisco's hair sticking out in places after being shuffled by the t-shirt, and the way his rather alluring naturally tanned skin stood out like a beacon in Harry's meager room, Harry had to physically hold himself back from reaching out and touching the lines of the other man's body.

He watched in dry-mouthed silence as Cisco pulled the black sweater over his head and let it fall around his frame, covering the muscles and curves that Harry had already begun to memorize. The sight of Cisco Ramon wearing Harry's shirt had a completely fresh affect on him. Especially when Cisco lifted both hands and dragged them through his wayward curls, then tugged on the long sleeves to make sure his hands didn't disappear. It made Harry's lungs cease working for a moment. Made his heart hammer in his ribcage. And it made Cisco raise a brow at him, confusion crossing his features.

"What?" Cisco asked, crossing his arms. Harry blinked, cleared his throat, demanded that his brain start functioning again.

"You look ridiculous." He forced out. Cisco blinked, then cracked a little smile.

"It's not my fault you're built like a giraffe." Cisco countered, watching Harry with a knowing look that made the taller scientist tear his eyes away. "You didn't answer the question, ya know."

"What question?" Harry asked, slipping his hands into his dark jean pockets to steady himself. Cisco chuckled.

"Can I keep this?" He reiterated, plucking at the shirt material against his own chest and letting it fall before his hands went to his sides, the sleeve material instantly falling down over his hands.

"My shirt?" Harry blinked, looking Cisco over again. "You're swimming in it. Why would you want to keep it?"

"Well," Cisco took a step toward him, and his sparkling eyes suddenly took on a very... challenging quality. "You could always take it back. But I'm not going to make it easy on you." Cisco's eyes began roaming all over Harry's features, stopping at his lips a little longer than necessary before coming back to Harry's eyes. It made Harry forget to breathe. But it also made his brain spark into overdrive.

"Are you flirting with me?" He questioned clearly, pointed confusion on his features. Cisco laughed instantly.

"You tell me, Harry." The shorter man half-whispered. And then, as though there hadn't been space between them at any point in their lives, Cisco was just there. Kissing him.

Braining like a genius was overrated after all, it seemed. Because Harry didn't stop himself. He let that kiss grow, moment to moment, till they'd each memorized the taste and feel of each other's mouths and tongues. It wasn't till they came up for air, hands clinging to each other, Cisco's hair a mess all over again, that Harry finally spoke up.

"I think I will take my shirt back, Ramon. In fact," He began moving backward, pulling Cisco with him as he stepped toward his bed without looking, "I think I'll take all of your clothes." Cisco's eyes were a little wide, pupils blown as he licked his lips and swallowed.

"I really need to make messes more often." He said clearly. And Harry laughed, unable to help it, right before he turned Cisco and laid him down into that bed. It didn't take long for Harry to do exactly what he said he'd do. Though he was a man of intense patience for every moment that followed. And when all was said and done, Cisco made sure to steal Harry's shirt anyway. A thing that utterly confused the rest of the team when they saw Cisco wearing it the next day.

"Shut up. I spilled a meatball on my shirt." Was Cisco's quick and annoyed answer to Barry's pestering. But when Ramon looked at Harry, there was a subtle smile on his delicious lips. After the team had begun to busy itself with the newest problem at hand, Harry stepped up behind Cisco, slipped his hands beneath the shirt, trailed fingers along the skin that he now knew every inch of.

"By the way, Ramon..." he whispered in Cisco's ear, the shorter man letting out a quick breath in response and stilling in Harry's hold, "I'd like to see you in nothing but my shirt later. No mess necessary..." And he slipped away, watching with fair amusement as Cisco tried desperately to keep his face from giving away the fact that he did not, in fact, want to wait that long.

But Harry could wait. Maybe. Or maybe I can't, he thought as he watched Cisco lift the neck of Harry's shirt to his nose and breathe in deeply before smiling like an absolute moron. It made Harry's own smile inch into 'tender' territory.

And the moment they had the chance, Harry grabbed Cisco by that damn shirt and pulled him into the nearest stairwell.

Both Harry and Cisco decided that shirt would always be their favorite from now on...

#harrisco #one shot #writing prompt #harry wells #cisco ramon #enjoy!#harry can't brain when cisco shows skin #he can't brain when he covers up either

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henoda4 · 3 years

Text

--Just a little ficlet I had rolling around in my brain after the latest manga chapter. Can be read as platonic or romantic bkdk. Hopefully not too OOC, and probably some grammatical errors. Enjoy!--

* Manga spoilers- for those not caught up to chapter 317, ye' be warned!*

Finding that which is Lost:

It's been days, multiple infuriating days of searching, flying over rooftops and zigzagging through desolate alley ways and getting mostly useless information from the occasional civilian. Bakugou was pissed, hell he'd been pissed since he'd woken up in a hospital only to find out Deku was still unconscious, and then later to a goddamn letter and a nerd who'd gone off to fuck-knows-where. Uraraka had tried to tell him that he was probably just scared more so than angry, that they all were. Naturally he told her to shove it. But more than anything he'd been pissed from the moment that All Might walked right back into the UA dorms, fucking months later, looking absolutely miserable and terrified. The former Pro Hero had barely gotten the explanation out of what he and Deku had been up to before he'd straight up slugged the man. Deku left All Might behind? Deku's pushing everyone away? What the fuck does that even mean? Godammit, didn't he warn the damn nerd not to do this shit?! All Might at least had the decency to look apologetic, as if he knew he deserved the hit.

As he moves the buildings start to blur a bit and he recalls a memory from the recesses of his mind. He and Deku had been very little, he doesn't recall how old exactly, he just knew it was at some point before he had driven a wedge between their friendship, and it was the first time both of their families had gone on a camping trip. The two children had wandered away from the campsite for a bit to explore. He recalls several minutes passing and him and Deku getting separated, and even though /he/ wasn't scared of anything in the woods, he wanted to keep Deku close, you know, just in case, poor nerd would probably bawl his eyes out without him. Sure enough after a few minutes of searching he heard loud sobs and found the green haired boy crouched underneath a tree, his knees all scratched up from taking a tumble. Deku's green eyes lit up in relief upon seeing him and his little heart swelled at the reaction.

"Kacchan!"

"Stupid Izuku! I told you to stay with me!"

"I know, I'm sorry Kacchan, I guess I got lost."

"Can you walk?"

"Yeah-"

"Well, come on then!"

He grabbed Deku's hand and yanked him upright, then practically pulled him along behind him.

He put on his best All Might voice impression, "It's okay now, ya' know why? Because I'm here so you're not lost anymore. Let's go back Izuku!"

If he'd turned behind him, he'd have seen the beaming smile aimed his way.

But all he heard was the small, "Thanks, Kacchan."

Back in the present moment, Bakugou was snapped out of his memory by a blur of green, and he abruptly came to a halt on a rooftop. Looking over the edge, he saw down to the street below where there was another flash of green and just as suddenly a figure stepped out, their silhouette half covered in shadows. His eyes widened, he was far away, so he couldn't be sure. But that lightning, the black-green tendrils that trailed the figure, it had to be...it couldn't be. He leapt ahead to the next building over making sure never to lose sight of the ground below, and then jumped down the side to stay out of the figure's line of vision. He silently thanked Hatsume for the upgrades to his gauntlets that rendered them way quieter than usual. As he peaked around the corner he saw the figure walk close to the sides of the building heading his direction. Suddenly their head came under a direct beam of light from a street lamp, and he felt his whole body freeze from the inside out.

The person in front of him, was unmistakably Deku. The teal jumpsuit, worn and disgustingly dirty and covered in various degrees of drying blood, his leg bracers ripped to shreds, those ridiculous bunny ears frayed, and those red shoes that he would recognize anywhere. It was Deku, but not Deku as he had named him, a useless person, incapable of doing anything, and not Deku as the boy himself had taken the meaning, a person capable of anything, full of unlimited promise. No this was Deku as in a doll, a mere foreboding vessel of power and purpose. There was nothing in those green eyes, glowing but soulless. It was Deku, but it was no longer the Deku he knew, and it definitely wasn't Midoriya Izuku.

"I know you're there. Although if you're not here to attack me, then what is your purpose?"

Bakugou flinched at the voice, momentarily having forgotten about "Danger sense", All Might had tried to explain before, but he'd been a little too preoccupied planning how to get around the security at UA to go after Deku to pay close attention to the details.

He figured to hell with it and stepped out into Deku's line of view.

"What the hell do you think I'm here for Deku?"

Now Deku froze, his head raising slightly. His voice came out quiet and hesitant, completely unfitting the ominous aura his appearance gave off.

"Kacchan? Is that really you?"

"Who the fuck else would it be?"

To his surprise Deku started approaching him again, the tendrils of black whip receding and the lightning dimming to nothing. When he was close enough he yanked his hood down, and Bakugou got an up close look at the grime and blood caked on his face, the sunken eyes and black bags of sleep deprivation.

"What the fuck happened to you Deku?"

The green haired boy seemed nearly ready to collapse, as if he was standing upright on sheer willpower and adrenaline alone. Bakugou fought the urge to grab him and throttle him, as fragile as he seemed at the moment, like a breathe would knock him over. Instead it was Deku who grabbed him by the arm as if he couldn't believe his eyes alone, and needed the physical confirmation of his presence.

"I'm glad you're okay. I was worried... after you, you know."

Bakugou felt his anger boil back to the surface.

"Worried about me?! What the fuck?! Worry about yourself for fucking once! Do you have any idea how upset everyone was when you took off after nearly dying, and then left only a fucking letter! How worried sick your mom is?! How scared your fucking shitty friends are?!"

He didn't realize he was shaking until he felt Deku's hand slide down his arm slightly.

"I'm sorry Kacchan, I know I should've talked to you in person. But I had to go, and if I had waited, you would have tried to stop me."

"DAMN RIGHT I WOULD HAVE!"

Silence.

"I told you not to do this shit on your own Deku, I told you not to play the hero on your own. Do you not think I'm strong enough to help you?! Are you actually fucking looking down on me this time?!"

"No, of course not! I told you I've never looked down on you. I just....I can't see you get hurt for me again. I can't risk anyone getting hurt again because of me, because I couldn't do anything to protect them....I can't let that happen! I have to do this on my own. OFA was given to me so I could-"

"You're such a fucking idiot. You think you can take down every fucking villain on your own? Take down AFO on your own?"

The little shit had the nerve to smile awkwardly at him, "I've managed fine so far."

Bakugou yanked his arm out of Deku's grasp, and gestured at his whole body.

"This! This is not fine! You're barely standing, you're covered in blood and you look like you haven't slept in weeks. When's the last time you fucking ate? You can't keep this up Deku, even in his prime All Might didn't handle shit like this. And I know I said some real shitty stuff in the past about you being quirkless, but you are more than just OFA's vessel. You were the one to fucking get that through my head.. that we are more than just our quirks. So what the hell?"

"I-"

"Just let me help you Deku."

"But Kacc-"

"Dammit! It took me years to understand that you genuinely wanted to help me not because you thought I was weak, but just because you're a natural born hero and you care about me or some shit. Just..just let me return the favor for once. You don't have to do this alone."

He turned his head away uncomfortably, suddenly acutely aware of how inept he was at expressing himself in these delicate situations. How was he supposed to get through to Deku? Would this be enough? The nerd always seemed to be able to read him like a book, he hoped that proved to be the case now.

"Ka-"

He felt his eyes sting with unshed tears. He was running out of options, aside from pummeling the nerd into submission. But for once he wanted to chose a different option.

"Please Izuku." He lifted his gaze to meet his child hood friend's. A silent plea hanging in the air.

In the span of seconds that felt like an eternity they kept eye contact and Deku seemed like he was trying to find something in that contact, like a promise, or a confirmation, whatever it was, he finally sighed and lowered his gaze to the ground.

It was barely a whisper.

"Okay."

Bakugou let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Can you walk nerd?" He extended his hand out to the green haired teen who took it right away. He tightened his grip immediately.

"Yeah, but I'm a little sleepy-"

Before Deku could finish, and without a word Bakugou yanked the other teen towards himself and lifted him up. The teen seemed surprisingly small and light in his arms, a far cry from the monstrous visage he painted when they first crossed paths several minutes ago.

As he walked down the blocks and could feel the tension leave Deku's body as his form went slack, he gazed down to see the nerd's eyes slowly closing, he must be exhausted. He kept walking down the vacant streets, on alert for any potential threats, the nerd's weight a comforting presence in his arms. He assumed the other teen was already unconscious .

He briefly gazed up and saw the stars through the gaps between the building silhouettes, he thought back again to that time in the forest as kids.

He whispered in the dark, "It's okay now, ya' know why? Because I'm here so you're not lost anymore. Let's go back."

If he had looked down a second time he would have seen the subtle but content smile aimed at him. But all he heard was the small, "Thanks, Kacchan." before the teen fell asleep in his arms.

#bkdk #platonic bkdk #bkdk fic #bnha bkdk #bnha #mha bkdk #bnha angst #bnha spoilers #bnha 317

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strawberryyllemonade · 3 years

Text

Untitled Fanfic - Chap. 1

Ongoing - Sasha x Niccolo

I’ll be publishing this on Ao3 once I get my invite code on the 28th, but I’ll also be publishing the chapters here. I’m needing a title, feel free to suggest! This takes place during the time skip in which Niccolo and Sasha’s relationship presumably took place. They’re aged up a bit just because I find it easier to write characters closer to me in age, and I personally think they look a lot older than they are canonically. That being said this will be rated M for potential mature themes, though this first chapter is fairly tame.

Chapter: 1 - Word count: 2,474

Damn Eldians.

Niccolo didn’t even try to hide the scowl on his face as he stirred the large pot in front of him. He still couldn’t believe that in the span of just a few weeks, he had gone from a member of the Marleyan Navy to a prisoner on the Island of Paradis. He had always been taught that the Island of Paradis was home to the worst of the worst. Eldians alone were bad, but on Paradis they were the devils themselves. The Eldians in Liberio at least aimed to repent for the crimes of their ancestors.

When he had been assigned to a scouting naval mission to Paradis, he hadn’t expected to return. It was common knowledge that every ship sent to Paradis in the past couple of years hadn’t returned. Of course, Niccolo expected they had met a fateful end at the hands of the Island devils - not taken alive as prisoners. In a way, dying would have been better. Going from a Marleyan who spat at Eldians to a Marleyan who was being spat at by Eldians was a difficult transition.

Niccolo grimaced as he stirred, the sound of some stupid Eldian soldiers behind him frustrating him even more. They were talking like they had never seen seafood before. Were they really so uncivil that they had never even seen a boiled clam or crab? He wasn’t shocked. Their kind literally ate people in their true form.

He could hear Yelena behind him, explaining what the spread before them was. He couldn’t believe his time and talent in cooking were being wasted on these unappreciative savages. He looked over his shoulder. The group behind him consisted of Yelena, two young male soldiers, and a female one. The guys looked around 19, maybe 20 in age. One of them had sleek, light hair and a thin chinstrap beard. The other had a round head with fluffy, short hair on top. They looked nervous, and both of their eyes were on the female soldier.

The female soldier was plain looking, with brown hair pulled back into a loose ponytail and eyes of a similar color. Was that… drool in the corners of her lips? Niccolo’s interest was piqued. Was she just such a savage that she was unable to control her drooling? One of the male soldiers put an arm on her shoulder, almost as if he knew what was about to happen next, and was making feeble effort at preventing it.

The female soldier attacked a fat lobster on the plate in front of her. Niccolo was surprised that she even managed to pick it up - it had to still be ridiculously hot…

That didn’t seem to bother the woman as she tore the crustacean in half and began absolutely devouring it. Her comrades called out to her, urging her to slow down and leave some for the rest of them.

“Sasha! No fair, leave some for the rest of us!” the shorter soldier with the round head urged.

Sasha. so that was one of the names. It seemed almost too normal of a name for an island devil. He recalled going to school with at least two people with the same name. Well, whatever her name was, Sasha was absolutely destroying the food in front of her. The drool was gone, but there were crumbs and bits of food all over her face. It was a bit gross, and Niccolo felt weird staring, but by now her friends were also enjoying the food and weren’t focused on him or Sasha.

“Mister Niccolo!” Sasha called out, tears in her eyes.

Niccolo let out a mixture between a grunt and a gasp. Was she really… crying? Was it not good? The amount she had consumed in mere seconds begged to differ, but maybe she was just hungry.

“You’re a genius!” She sobbed, before continuing to eat, tears flowing down her full cheeks in streaks now.

Niccolo quickly turned his head back to his pot. He could feel his face heating up. A genius? That was a weird way of putting it. He knew he was good at cooking, he had always been good at it. But… a genius?

Niccolo continued to cook in silence as the Eldians behind him devoured the food he had prepared. Soon, the sound of satisfied eating was replaced by groaning and complaining. The trio had clearly eaten too much, but none more than that Sasha girl. When Niccolo finally did look over his shoulder, she was doubled over in pain, groaning louder than any of them.

“There’s no reason to eat that quickly. There’s plenty of food.” Niccolo grunted at the three, his eyes lingering on the brunette. She threw her head back in protest. “But mister Niccolo… it’s so good - I was afraid it would jump back into the ocean!”

Jump back into- that was ridiculous. She was clearly kidding. The compliment made him blush a bit, but he was still annoyed. Even if they were a bit more appreciative than he would have expected of some island devils, it was still a waste of good seafood. A lobster that size would have fetched a nice price at a restaurant back in Marley, but now it was wasting away in the stomach of this… Sasha girl.

The trio soon left, and as Niccolo cleaned up the mess they had left behind, he couldn’t help but notice that the Eldians had neatly stacked their plates and made sure to help the cleaning process at least a bit before they left, even if they had been doubled over in pain from overeating.

Hmph. Maybe they did have some manners after all. Not a lot, but some.

-- --

Of course, cooking lunch for some of the devils hadn’t been the end of his day's work. Niccolo’s food skills had earned him a spot as a chef for the military and other high ranking bureaucrats. It wasn’t ideal cooking for these ungrateful Eldians, but it was better than doing manual labor or other dirt jobs like some of his comrades got stuck with.

Niccolo scrubbed at a dirty plate, standing over the sink. It was near sunset by now, and at this point the sky was a shade of orange, filtering in through the windows and creating a warm ambiance. It was nice. He would never admit it out loud, but the sunsets here on the island of devils were some of the most beautiful he had seen. Maybe it was due to the Island’s century-long lack of industrialization and pollution, but the sky was always crisp and clean.

He slowed down his washing - by now he was mindlessly scrubbing an already clean plate -and looked out the window wistfully. He wondered what his friends in Marley were doing - what his parents were doing. Did they think he was dead? Another casualty among the hundreds that occurred among Marleyan ranks every day? They probably considered him as good as dead the moment he told them he had been assigned to a Paradis naval mission.

Niccolo clenched his jaw, and grasped the sponge in his hand tighter, causing suds and water to cover his hand. His life had been completely taken away from him. Just because he wasn’t thrown in some prison cell somewhere didn’t mean he wasn’t a prisoner. He was in the clutches of these stupid Eldian devils, and no amount of letting him cook or giving him a decent place to sleep would change that.

As Niccolo continued musing over his situation, he heard the front door to the restaurant open. The sun was nearly completely set now and that meant that some of the officers would be coming in to drink. He sighed, wiping his large hands on his apron and setting down his sponge and dishrag. It happened almost every night - the officers would come in, have one too many, and say things that were out of line. Comments on his heritage, comments on him and his people being at fault for the deaths of their comrades, comments on the price of booze, and more. He much preferred the cooking aspect of his role to the bartending aspect, but again, he was a prisoner so he didn’t have much of a say in the matter.

“Evening.” Niccolo said without looking over his shoulder, moving over to the booze shelf and grabbing a few glasses to start. At least he didn’t have to be kind and chatty for tips. They didn’t tip him, and even if a kind officer did try to slip him some money he couldn’t spend it. At the very least he had to be civil. Most of the Eldians that came in didn’t make much of an effort at small talk anyway. Not that he cared, the last thing he wanted was to talk to an island devil about anything other than when he could go home.

Niccolo shone the inside of some of the glasses with a rag, waiting to hear the familiar stomp of boots and the pulling back of barstools. When he didn’t hear those things, he looked over his shoulder. Instead of the familiar sight of Eldian military members coming in for their nightly drinks, it was that female soldier from earlier. What was her name again? Sasha. That was it, Sasha.

Sasha didn’t say anything, but she looked around curiously. He supposed she hadn’t been in here before. It was a fairly fancy place, reserved for higher ranking and senior officials.

“Can I help you?” He asked, scanning her up and down. She wasn’t with her friends this time. She seemed quite out of her element in a fancy place like this. If she hadn’t been a devil, he would have thought it was intriguing, maybe even cute, but that wasn’t the case.

“I was- uh… that food you made earlier. It was so good…” She muttered, taking a step forward. “I was wondering if you had any more left?” She inquired, still nervously looking around.

Niccolo raised a brow curiously. More? She had just eaten herself sick less than three hours ago, and she was hungry again? He wasn’t surprised that Eldians were bottomless pits. They were constantly soaking up resources in Marley, feeding them and housing them. It was no shocker that the case here was similar.

“No. I don’t. Seafood goes bad quickly, and besides, you guys ate it all. I don’t keep leftovers anyway.” Niccolo said, turning around, glass still in hand as he polished the inside of it. The look of disappointment on Sasha’s face almost got to him. Man, she had really liked his food, huh?

“You liked it that much? You’ve really never had seafood before?” He couldn’t help but ask. Had they just never had a lobster that big?

“Liked it?” She asked, her eyes widening and shining. “I loved it!” She lunged towards the bar, her hands grasping the edge of it as she leaned over. “It was the best thing I’ve ever tasted, mister Niccolo!” she insisted, resting her head on the bar. “I’ll be thinking about it for the rest of my life…” she pouted, closing her eyes.

Niccolo jumped back a bit, red creeping onto his cheeks as she leaned over the bar, only inches away from his face. The best thing she had ever tasted? Surely not - she didn’t even use any sauce when she ate it…

“Best thing you’ve- what do you normally eat?” Niccolo asked, caught off guard, a confused look on his face.

“Bread, potatoes… sometimes if I’m lucky I get some meat.” she said, grinning goofily. Bread and potatoes and sometimes meat? What was she, a hobo? Even poor people in Marley didn’t eat that bad. Maybe she hadn’t been exaggerating when she said the lobster had been the best thing she had ever tasted. If he had only had bread and potatoes most of his life, a lobster would be a breath of fresh air to him too.

“Hmph.” Niccolo conceded, reminding himself who he was talking to. He was talking to an island devil, that’s all they deserved to eat. He was frustrated he had even wasted a good lobster on them anyhow.

“Mister Niccolo, will you be cooking for us more?” Sasha urged, lifting her head as she looked up at him, her eyes wide as saucers. She looked so… hopeful. He couldn’t help but feel intrigued. She seemed to be really looking forward to even the prospect of his future cooking.

“Don’t have much of a choice, now do I?” he shot back, not overly sassy, but making a point nonetheless. It wasn’t a lie. If they told him to do backflips all day he wouldn’t have much of a choice, either.

Sasha flinched a bit at that, and he immediately felt a bit guilty. A small frown traced her pink lips. “I guess not.” She muttered, standing up, and moving away from the bar. “I’m sorry Niccolo. I know that this isn’t your home. I know what you think about us.” She said gently. “If it was up to me this whole war would be over and everyone would be home. I’d be somewhere in the woods hunting all the meat I wanted and not worrying about Marleyans, Eldians, titans, or any of that.”

Sasha put a hand on her hip and stretched her back a bit. “If it were up to me.” she repeated, looking up at him for a moment. Her eyes were childish and fun, but there was something darker in there. Niccolo didn’t have to look twice to know that she had seen more than the average person. The emblem on her uniform told him she was a member of the scouts. Before the invasion, the scouts killed titans outside of the walls. She had probably seen countless of her friends and family killed. He wondered if she had known the Marleyan warriors who infiltrated the scout regiment.

Niccolo had to shake his head. She deserved all of what had happened. Her comrades deserved it too. It was part of being an Eldian - if they wouldn’t willingly repent, they had to be forced. It was just how it was. He couldn’t look at her like a silly brunette girl with big brown eyes who loved food. He needed to see her and her comrades as descendents of murderers.

“If only it were up to you then.” Niccolo responded simply, his eyes darkening.

Sasha stood closer to the door now, her hand around the doorknob. “Well, I want to thank you either way, mister Niccolo. I hope I get to eat more of your food soon. You’re very talented.” She said, looking over at him, opening the door. Just before she closed it, a playful glint danced in her eyes.

“For a Marleyan.”

#niccolo #sasha braus #niccolo x sasha #niccosasha #attack on titan #aot anime #aot season 4

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lunarliza · 4 years

Text

JJ Maybank Must Die | Chapter 2: Ping Pong Balls

fuckboy!JJ x Reader

series masterlist | chapter one

JJ Maybank is the island’s most infamous fuckboy- not that you ever cared. But when a group of tourist girls come to your surf shop crying to you about him, you agree to help them plot revenge. Sabotage is all fun and games, until you find that the playboy you were sworn to ruin happens to be falling head over heels for you.

Yes, this is based on John Tucker Must Die lol

Problem not solved.

You and Sophia eagerly sipped on your smoothies, waiting for the trio to show up to their five-o’clock session the Monday following the party. Alas, they piled through the front door with deflated shoulders.

“Well?” Sophia perked, eyes gleaming, “How’d it go? Did you make him cry?! Please don’t spare any details!” Her palms clasped together in front of her like a kid who just came up with an evil-genius plan.

“Tell them what happened,” Annalise ordered Arabella, clocking the fiery-haired girl’s shoulder.

Arabella sighed dejectedly. “Well... not exactly. So I went to the party, hoe clothes on and everything like we planned. Saw him, used my signature look and look away move, and it worked! He came over and we started talking and-”

“She fucked him,” Maia finished bluntly, prompting a betrayed gasp from Sophia and face-palm from you.

“Mhm,” Annalise added, “He whisked her away before me or Maia could get the chance to interfere.”

“I couldn’t help it!” Arabella cried, covering her face in mortification, “He was just so... smooth and sweet. And those eyes! We started talking about sea turtles! You guys know they are my weakness.”

You couldn’t help look on your face. Arabella was sweet, no doubt, but boy, the girl sure was spineless. It was a good thing she was pretty.

“He is the devil!” Sophia enunciated each word of her sentence and huffed. “This is going to be harder than I thought!”

“We just need someone stronger! Someone with a heart of steel unlike this one,” Annalise added, smacking her friend on the back.

“We could give it another go,” you agreed, “but who’d be our guinea pig now?”

You pondered at the ceiling until you felt all four pairs of eyes practically stab at you. It was like jumping into a vulture’s nest.

“Oh no, not me!”

“Why not?” Maia questioned, frustrated. “You’re the only available one left. Plus, you couldn’t give two shits about him. It’ll be like busy work to you.”

“Yeah not gonna happen. Find someone else, please. This is non-negotiable.”

Out of nowhere, Sophia seized your hand and tugged you into the back room of the shop. “Excuse us for a minute,” she said to the girls before shutting the door of the crammed space.

It was a good thing your supervisor left early for the day, your asses would be toast if he were to witness the scene.

“I think you should do it,” your best friend urged.

“Have you lost your mind?!” you yelled-whispered.

“Oh come on, y/n! Do it for me. For Annalise. No! Do it for all the girls on this island who has ever shed a single tear for him!”

You sighed heavily. “I can’t do it, Soph. I’m sorry. He’s terrible and Karma has her kiss for him, but not me. Also, you know how I feel about those parties at the Boneyard.” Your look grew to one of disgust.

“Mhm,” she crossed her arms, “This wouldn’t be because of Pope would it?”

“No!”

Yes. It absolutely was.

So you might’ve maybe use to have a teensy tiny little crush on Pope Heyward-one of JJ’s best friends. It wasn’t your fault he was so cute and smart... and respectful!

The boy stole your heart and ran away with it when you were paired up for science lab sophomore year. Him, being the genius he was, always did the experiments so gracefully while you royalty fucked everything up.

One day, you poured the wrong solution into the beaker and the goopy liquid exploded everywhere. However, without an ounce of complaint, Pope offered to stay after with you to scrub down the walls and tables. A modern day romance if there ever was one.

After months of daydreaming about him, you finally worked up the courage to ask him to the end-of-year dance. Sophia and your other friends hyped you up as you approached his locker after school.

Much to you dismay, he said no. But he did it in such a nice way, you couldn’t hate him for it. If anything, it made you hurt even more that you got rejected so kindly. Ever since then, you never stepped foot near him or his friends, too humiliated to even think of it.

“You’re a terrible liar, y/n,” Sophia stated.

She then grabbed onto your shoulders to stare you straight in the eyes. “Look, I know you swore never to see Pope again, but, honestly, fuck him! He missed out on a kick-ass date. But think- you could kill two birds with one stone! Go to the Boneyard, look hot as fuck, dance on JJ a bit and then vamoose! Pope’s jealous and JJ gets a bite in the ass!”

Your brows furrowed in annoyance. Leave it to Sophia to convince you into her petty ploys. “I don’t know...”

She persisted further. “Okay, I wasn’t going to tell you this because I knew you’d be super jealous, but my cousin got me front row to Venus Panic in Charlotte at the end of the summer.”

Your eyes jolted out of your head. “No fucking way!”

You loved Venus Panic with a dying passion. They were your favorite band who never ever came to the U.S.

Sophia let out a long breath. “Yes. If you do this, y/n, the ticket,” she paused, “the ticket is yours.”

It was like pulling teeth from her to make that kind of offer. Damn her for being so conniving!

“Alright. For Venus, I’ll do it.”

“Thank the gods!” Sophia leaped up and down in the confined room, hugging you and thanking you a ga-zillion times.

She looked as if she sealed a million dollar deal when you two emerged from the room. You, on the other hand, were ready to fling yourself to the seagulls.

“Operation JJ Maybank must die is a go girls!” she announced before the group started frolicking up and down, earning stares from people looking through the glass.

“Alright, alright,” you said as they settled down, “Now that we have that done, can we please actually surf now?”

-------------------------------

The night of the next Boneyard party, you and Sophia drove to the condo the girls were staying at. Pulling up to the building, both yours and Sophia’s eyes widened. You knew the complex was on Figure Eight, but you didn’t know it was that luxurious and huge. They even had valet at the front, and you were greeted by doorman on your way in.

Apparently Annalise’s dad was an important rich man in Virginia. He remarried, and was currently honeymooning in some exotic island. Sending his condolences, he let her choose whichever one of his condos she wanted to stay at for the summer with friends. For some unknown reason, she chose the Outer Banks.

“Party’s here!” Sophia sang when Arabella answered the door.

You entered into the spacious unit, in awe. The endless kitchen was lined with white Italian wood while the counters were topped with the fanciest marble you had ever seen. The living room was the size of your house with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the island. And the view was spectacular.

So this was how the other side lived.

Maia and Annalise squealed when they emerged from their rooms and hugged you and Sophia hello. They had on silk robes with their hair up in rollers. The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show had nothing on them.

They handed you two some seltzers from the fridge before Maia dragged you to the gigantic vanity in her room. Eyeshadow palettes, brushes, and compact powders littered the surface. She sat you down and fiddled with the ends of your hair.

“So, y/n, what kind of look do you wanna go for tonight?”

You were taken aback. “I’m not sure. Maybe something natural since we’re gonna be outside?”

Maia scoffed playfully and shook her head. “Y/n, it’s a party! If you’re not glamming you’re not scamming. Actually say no more! I know exactly what we’re gonna do.”

And so, she worked her magic as you watched through the bulb-lined mirror. You asked her about the products she was using while she gave you the rundown of the importance of each item and step. She was very knowledgable and swift with her hand- especially when it came to the winged liner.

You got along with Maia. You learned that she had a successful makeup channel and wanted to start her own brand one day. She also told you about her boyfriend and how he was in Thailand for the entire summer.

After two hours of searching for lost lip glosses, waiting on Annalise to change for the tenth time, and chugging your fifth seltzer, the five of you finally made it to the Boneyard at its peak hour.

Linking arms, you all strutted down the beach, ready for your mission.

The four scattered when you reached the sea of people, leaving you to locate the blonde target. After a few minutes of searching, you couldn’t find a single trace of him or any of his friends.

Heading over to the keg, you poured yourself a drink in hopes it would loosen your raging nerves. It also didn’t help that Maia’s bikini top was hardly covering your nipples. You knew a nip slip was just waiting to happen at some point in the night.

You casually sipped your drink and circled the party again, catching a glimpse of the wavy-haired boy at the beer pong area.

JJ slammed his fists on the table after landing another shot.

“Fuck yes! One last shot and your ass is grass!” he belted to his competitors: two random tourist boys who were chugging at a ridiculously slow pace. JJ then proceeded to high-five his friend, John B, who you also recognize from school.

“Don’t be a coward,” you muttered to yourself before striding to the crowd clamoring around a fold-out table.

From the sides, you attempted a few of the “flirty glances” Arabella taught you but no luck. The boy would much rather bounce a ping-pong ball.

You resorted to crossing your arms and waiting for the game to be over. With no surprise, JJ and John B won as the tourons groaned and withered away to the bonfire.

“That’s right baby! Undefeated!” JJ gloated with his hands smugly flung in the air.

“Alright who’s next?” John B shouted, earning no response from the herd.

Welp... it’s now or never.

“I’ll play,” you volunteered and stuck your hand up. You could feel JJ staring at you quizzically.

“Alright, alright we have a challenger! But who’s your partner?” John B asked. You wanted to slap yourself for not thinking this through properly.

“I’ll do it,” a deep voice spoke behind you. You whirled around to meet eyes with none other than Pope. He stood cooly behind you with a beer in hand.

You originally planned to avoid him at all costs during the party. But that all went down the drain as he set down his drink and started ordering the cups in a pyramid formation.

“You’re going down Heyward!” JJ hollered, taking the first shot. The ball glided into the first cup with ease. John B’s shot followed, but bounced off to the side.

Your partner grabbed the beer and hurled it down instantly, using his wrist to wipe his mouth. You snatched the fallen ball on the ground while Pope nodded for you to go first.

So this might have been the first time you’ve every played beer pong in your life. But, in your defense, you’ve done it a million times on your phone. It couldn’t be that hard.

You tossed the first shot and it wheezed over all the cups. Whoops.

“This is too easy,” JJ jeered, eyeing Pope as he made the next throw. It landed in one of the back cups and John B swallowed the contents down.

“Sorry, I’m just off my game today,” you mumbled to your partner.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. You wanna know my trick?” Pope raised as another one of JJ’s balls flew into one of your cups. You raised your brows as he handed you the beer.

“The more drunk you are, the better you play.”

Guzzling down the liquid luck, you fingered another ball and took your aim. Flinging it towards the mass, you gasped when it actually landed into the center cup.

“Oh my God!” you cheered as Pope’s face mimicked yours. He high-fived you with both hands as you bounced up and down in glee.

“That’s what I’m talking about y/n!”

For the rest of the game you and Pope played neck-and-neck with the other two, continuously making shots and chugging down beer. His tactic worked. You were on fire.

The flock around you chanted your name every time you scored. You could see your friends hanging around in the far corner hollering your name and sending you thumbs ups.

It was game point as both teams had one target left. It was their turn. JJ took the stage, chucking the ball skillfully. Much to your demise, it swirled along the rim before plopping in. JJ roared out in victory.

“Hold your horses,” Pope interjected with a finger in the air, “We still have redemption.”

“Let’s see it then,” John B panted, worn out from the tension.

“You got this.” Pope patted you on the back and handed you the ball.

Your eyes bursted. “W-What? No no no, Pope you go.”

“Relax, y/n! I believe in you. Just focus.”

You gulped and turned to the boys taunting you across the table. Saying the quickest Hail Mary in your head, you launched the ball and had to shut your eyes.

A sudden rush of shrieks alarmed you. Peeling your eyes open, you saw both JJ and John B’s jaws plummet to the ground.

It went in.

“Now that’s what the fuck is up!” Pope hurled his fist at this chest. You were frozen in utter disbelief. Maybe the Gods were in your favor.

Pope added two more cups to your side of the table as John B copied his actions. The four of you went at it a few more times before you were one-and-one again. Both John B and JJ missed and the balls rolled back over to you.

Taking the first shot again, you slung the ball, but it flew off the rim. You were chattering on your nails as Pope proceeded to make his attempt.

One swish and the ball landed straight in the hole.

You both jolted up in the air, doing a little victory dance. JJ shushed you- ready to go for his redemption kill. His ball missed the cup by a hair and John B’s slid off the table, deeming you and Pope the winners.

In your exhilarated drunken state, you threw your arms around Pope, and he let out a soft chuckle. You hastily pulled away after you realized what you were doing. Thankfully, the crestfallen losers immediately came over to shake your hands and say “Good game.”

JJ’s hands hung onto yours a moment longer. He studied you with his eyes before treading away towards the bonfire.

As winners, you and Pope stayed a few more rounds before getting beat out. You noticed JJ come back to watch you for a few rounds, eyes fixated on your every move.

After shaking hands with the girls who beat you, you waved a confused Pope goodbye and jogged over towards the drink area for water. In the corner of your eye, you saw JJ hurry up to you with giddiness.

“That was some game you played out there,” he complimented as you swigged down your water.

“Thanks! Guess I just got lucky back there.”

He leaned both arms on the table, raising his brows suggestively. “Might just be your lucky night then.”

Oh brother.

You threw him an uneasy smile and treaded away to the dancing crowd. Of course, he followed you, struggling to keep up with your pace.

“Hey, what’s your name? I’ve never seen you around before.”

You scoffed low enough to where he couldn’t hear. Never seen you? You’ve been in the same classes since second grade.

“I’m y/n.” You slowed down a bit, remembering your sworn duty.

“Well I’m JJ. JJ Maybank.” He flashed you a toothy smile.

You stopped amidst the dancers as a popular, high-beat electronic song came on. You flung you hands around JJ’s neck and pulled him close. “Dance with me, JJ Maybank.”

The two of you rocked back and forth for a while before the music transitioned to a provocative rap song. Both you and the light-haired boy rapped the entire first verse with ease, giggling once the chorus hit.

“So... how come I’ve never seen you at one of these parties?”

You shrugged tossing him a look of disinterest. “Not really my thing.”

He tugged you in so his forehead was on yours. “Then what is your thing then, hm? What’s a cute girl like you up to all summer?”

“I’m a surfing instructor.”

“Is that so? You know, I’m a pretty good surfer myself...” His hands traced down to your swaying hips.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you retorted, running your hands up and down his biceps flirtatiously.

It was probably the alcohol doing all the work, because in that moment, you knew you were being absolutely irresistible to the boy who’s hands were burning to stay in the... respectful areas.

“Maybe one day I can show you,” JJ rasped. You barely heard him through the booming of the speakers, but still locked eyes with him alluringly.

“Mmm, don’t really have time for amateurs.”

“Ouch... feisty aren’t we?” His lips were millimeters from yours.

“Please, you know you like it.” You decided to close the gap.

Boy, were his lips soft. His chiseled hands made way to tangle up in your hair as he expertly kissed you amongst the throng of people. He slid his tongue into your mouth, and you could feel how hungry he was.

You stopped after a minute, purposely cutting it short. His eyes were aching for more, but you refused. You wanted to starve him.

“Wanna get out of here? There’s a cool place on the beach I can show you,” he asked, fingers toying with the back string of your bikini.

You shrugged. “Why not.”

Smirking, JJ’s hand snaked around your waist as he led you to the back trees of the Boneyard. You approached a small patch of sand enclosed by a circle of trees, and it all clicked in your head. This was his sex hideout.

You glanced around the spot. The moon beamed straight into it, and the leaves of the trees hung down fancifully. In its own weird way, it was kind of romantic- if you didn’t think about how many times he’s taken people there to fuck.

He tugged you towards the center, wrapping you in his muscular arms.

“You’re the cutest girl I’ve ever seen. I could just eat you up,” he muttered seductively, nipping at the sides of your jawline.

You were beginning to understand it now- his irresistibility. The guy was charming. You let him kiss you for a little bit until you felt him undo your back bikini string.

You quickly jerked away, tying it back into a bow.

“You know what, I think I’m good,” you said abruptly, backing away.

JJ looked as if someone offered a kid ice cream and knocked the cone off the second he was about to dive in for the first taste. “Wait! Where are you going?” he urged.

“Away.”

His face flooded in disbelief as he let out a loud scoff, darting after you as you jogged back to the dancing pack.

“Wait! Y/n come back!” he called out.

“What for? I’m not sleeping with you JJ!” you shouted, making sure everyone around you heard.

When his face went beet-red you knew you work was done.

You sped up the sand, out of sight, to Annalise’s car where your friends were circled. They whooped and cheered at your presence.

“We saw everything!” Maia exclaimed, hauling you in for a bone-tight hug.

“That was so awesome! Y/n, you’re my hero!” Arabella chimed in while you all crammed into the Mercedes.

“Ladies, ladies,” Annalise began before pulling out of the parking lot, “Tonight we celebrate the fall of JJ Maybank!”

The car erupted in drunk glee as everyone swaddled you from their seats.

As you drove back to the condo, Sophia rolled down her window from the backseat and stuck out her head.

“Fuck you JJ Maybank!”

----------------------------------

note: dw there is even more D R A M A to come lolz

chapter 3

tags: @obxlife @rudyypankow @yeehaw87 @ilymarkchan @jellyfishbeansontoast @tangledinsparkles @toloveortobeinlove @pixelated-pogues @normatural @teamnick @drizzlethatfalls

#outerbanks #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #jj obx #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx #jj x y/n #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #john b obx #john b #john b imagine

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shellbilee · 4 years

Note

How about something with "you have no idea the effect you have on me, do you?" With Henry

Here you go nonnie! Thanks for the request, I loved writing this (though I’m sorry for the delay!). Hope it’s everything you were imagining! Also, I know I said headcanon buttttt it’s kind of turned into a headcanon/drabble/small fic. Oh well!

WARNING: Smut!

You’re finishing the last of your weighted squats, balancing the barbell on your shoulders and looking back at your reflection in the mirror when you see Henry staring at you through the mirror.

“Excuse me Mr Cavill” you say as you re-rack the weight and turn to face your devastatingly handsome hunk of a boyfriend, “Do you mind?”.

Henry chuckles and shakes his head, grinning at you as he sits on the weight bench resting between his reps. “No, not really. Just looking” he says seemingly innocently, even though you both know exactly what he was looking at.

“Oh yeah?” you ask, challenging him, “See something you like then?” you question as you bend over to pick up your water bottle, “Something caught your attention?”. Henry grins again - the devilishly cheeky, utterly handsome smile that forever makes you swoon inside, shifting on the weight bench and looking up at you as you lean against the weight rack.

“Yes actually. But you see, this thing has caught my attention for months. Five to be exact” Henry explains demurely, wiggling his eyebrows as he looks at you, “And I just can’t seem to stop myself from staring, especially when it’s bending up and down in front of me like that” he adds, gesturing to you with a nod.

You chuckle and shake your head, unable to help yourself from rolling your eyes playfully at him. He was talking about his favourite part of you, the asset that he made no secret about loving so much. He was talking about your ass.

Henry Cavill was, without question, an ass man. It was a fact you’d discovered on your third date with him, when you’d found yourself straddling him on his lounge room couch, the two of you making out like teenagers. His hands had slid slowly down your back until they’d found your ass, his huge hands grasping your cheeks and squeezing them firmly as you’d ground your hips into his.

This was only further confirmed for you when you’d started having sex, quickly realising that Henry’s favourite position was having you bent over in front of him, your top half flat against the bed with your ass raised in the air. As you’d progressively gotten more comfortable in the bedroom together, you’d come to find that Henry was also a big fan of dirty talk during sex, his deep, velvety voice always commenting on how perfect your ass looked bouncing back against him.

As your relationship grew it became evidently clear to you that Henry loved your ass, always putting his hands on it whenever he got the chance and forever telling you just how round and perfect he thought it was. He was constantly giving you little smacks and squeezes when you walked by, not to mention spanks whenever you had sex.

You didn’t mind, in fact, you loved it, loved the way your utterly gorgeous, devastatingly sexy boyfriend was so open and physical with his affections of you. He always looked at you with an expression that you could never completely read - like a combination of lust, awe and pure, utter adoration. He made you feel like a goddess, sexy and confident, powerful and alluring. It was one of things that you loved most about him, his uncanny ability to make you feel strong, safe and loved with just one look.

You grin stupidly at Henry and turn back to finish your last set of squats, stepping forward to balance the weight back on your shoulders and bending down into a squat. You see Henry’s eyes travel immediately back to your ass and you can’t help but giggle, wiggling your hips for emphasis and watching his jaw tense in response.

You know instantly that he’s thinking about you naked and bent over in front of him, his eyes practically undressing you as he stares. You know that your clothing probably isn’t helping the matter either, dressed only in a tight black sports bra that holds you with just the right amount of cleavage and a small pair of light blue booty shorts.

“Would you like me to put more clothes on seeing as I’m very obviously distracting you from your workout?” you ask when you’ve finished your last rep, re-racking the weight and turning back to face Henry. Henry laughs out loud, a deep throaty sound that echoes throughout the empty gym, “Love, if I ever tell you to put more clothes on, it’s safe to assume that I’m sick or dying”.

You giggle and shake your head at his response, picking up your gym towel and wiping the sweat from your forehead. Henry flashes you a cheeky grin as he picks up two enormous dumbbells, lifting them over his head into a military press and looking over at himself in the mirror. This time it’s your turn to stare at him, your muscles inadvertently clenching at the sight of his enormous chest muscles moving like boulders beneath his grey tee shirt, his biceps bulging and straining the material of his shirt. Almost instantly you find yourself thinking about him naked and pressed up against you, fighting the urge to swoon out loud as the idea of his thick muscles wrapped around your body and his hips rolling against yours floats into your head.

You swallow thickly and suck in a silent breath, feeling your heart rate instantly increase. All of a sudden you feel yourself growing hot - and you know it’s not from your workout.

“Now who’s the distracted one?” Henry quips mischievously as he puts down the huge weights, wiping his brow with his towel and looking over at you with a raised eyebrow. Your cheeks flush and you can tell that Henry knows exactly what’s just gone through your mind.

You shrug innocently, playing dumb. “I have no idea what you’re talking about babe” you say as you turn back to face the mirror, “I was just looking at your lifting form”. Henry chuckles, shaking his head, seeing right through your fake excuse.

You move on to your next exercise, the two of you working out in the weights area together, each trading flirty and cheeky winks as you go on with your exercises. You look back at Henry through the mirror and bite your bottom lip seductively, knowing just how much it drives Henry crazy whenever you did it. Henry in return runs his fingers through his thick curls, messing it up in the way that he knows you absolutely love.

Pretty soon it turns into a game, the two of you trying your absolute best to tease the other relentlessly. Henry grins and flexes his enormous muscles in the mirror, the sight making your knees weak and threatening to melt you into a puddle on the floor. You on the other hand do your best to show Henry all of your best angles of his favourite part of you, bending down and wiggling your hips temptingly every time you see him looking at you.

Eventually you come to the end of your workout, your muscles clenching in a way that you know has nothing to do with the workout you’d just done. You can feel how aroused you are, wanting nothing more than to turn around and jump on top of Henry, strip him of his clothes and ride him right there and then on the weight bench.

You’re quite certain that his thoughts mirror your own as you look over at him, unable to ignore the dark, hooded look in his eyes that he only ever got when he wanted you. Badly. In an instant you know that he wants you, just as much as you want him.

Deciding to push things one step further and see just how far you can take him, you bend over and fold your body in half, leaving your ass high in the air as you touch the floor and stretch out your hamstrings. You know that at this angle, in your tight blue shorts, your ass would look irresistible to Henry, and one quick peak back at him through your legs only confirms your thoughts. You know instantly from the look on his face that you’re playing with fire, knowing that as soon as you get out of the gym and back to the hotel room Henry will bend you over whatever surface he reaches first.

You wiggle your hips ever so slightly and bend further into the stretch, unable to help the smile that tugs at your lips when you see Henry reach down to readjust himself in his shorts. Your heart flutters triumphantly and you feel your deep muscles clench once again, the anticipation of knowing that you’re going to really get it when you get back to the room suddenly making your head spin.

You let out a breath and straighten up from your stretch, picking up your towel and water bottle and turning back to face Henry. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are dark and you know that if the gym were empty and you were at home, he’d be taking you right there on the gym floor and slamming his hips into you so hard that the sound would echo off the walls. You smile sweetly and open your mouth to speak, pausing momentarily as you watch him bicep curl a ridiculously large dumbbell. Oh God those muscles.

You clear your throat. “I’m finished so I’m going to head back to the room” you say gently, biting your lip when he lets out a groan of effort for his last rep, “So I’ll meet you back up there?”. Henry drops the dumbbell with a thud, looking up to meet your eye without saying anything. He doesn’t have to - you know instantly what he’s thinking, your pulse immediately racing at his expression. God you want him badly, you want his skin against yours, his hands on you, his lips on every inch of you

You grin and bend down to kiss him, lingering for a moment longer than necessary and tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth. You don’t even look down at him when you pull away, turning without a word and heading back up to the hotel room.

You feel like a naughty school girl as you ride the elevator up to the 31st floor, your stomach feeling giddy though you know it’s got nothing to do with the elevator. You’re all tensed muscles and thick, wet arousal, anticipation, excitement and burning desire bubbling in your veins.

You know Henry won’t be far behind you - he wouldn’t be able to last long in the gym in the state you left him in, and for a moment you toy with the idea of waiting naked on the bed for him. The thought is quickly replaced by the idea of the shower, and before you can think too much of it you’re stripping your clothes and leaving them in a trail to the bathroom.

You switch on the water and wait a moment for it to heat, stepping into the warmth and exhaling loudly as it hits your skin and soothes your aching muscles. You feel yourself tremble with anticipation knowing that Henry will be through the door any minute now, your heart racing in your chest as you tip your head back and let the water soak through your hair.

Exactly two minutes and forty-eight seconds later you hear the hotel room door click closed, and a moment later you hear the bathroom door opening. There’s a shuffling sound and you know without turning around that Henry’s stripping down, your muscles clenching deliciously when you hear the shower door open. You feel his presence behind you without actually feeling him on you, every single fibre in your body suddenly standing to attention as a grin grows involuntarily on your face.

“Do you have any idea” Henry says slowly, his voice deep, velvety and almost threatening as it echoes around the shower, “of the effect you have on me?”. His words send an immediate shiver down your spine and you feel your knees tremble beneath you, your heart threatening to burst out of your chest.

You only shake your head, feeling your grin grow even wider. “Sort of” you say slowly as you step backwards under the water so that you feel it run down your back, “But I do think that I’d be able to get a better idea of that effect if I could feel it”. With that you step backwards again and this time feel Henry behind you, his arousal thick and hard and more than evident as you feel it pressed up against your ass.

He lets out a groan and you can’t help but bite your lip at the sound, the muscles deep in your belly contracting when he reaches out to grip your hips. “Oh sweetheart” Henry groans, his hips rocking ever so slightly against yours so that you can feel him sliding between your soapy cheeks, “This fucking gorgeous ass of yours”.

After a moment he releases one of your hips and you tip your head back against his shoulder, a breathy moan escaping your throat when you feel his fingers travel to your front and slip into your velvet folds. “Oh love” Henry breathes in your ear as his fingers play with your slippery flesh, “You’re so wet for me already darling. All ready for me to just fuck you right here”. He says it like it’s a delicious threat, your mind suddenly lost between craving the delicious fullness of him inside you and a timid kind of nervousness that you’d never felt with Henry before.

You moan loudly, melting back into him as you feel his fingers stretch and tease your syrupy folds. Oh God Henry. “I’ve been ready for you to fuck me since the gym baby” you admit in a breathless voice, your hands reaching back and knotting in his hair to hold yourself.

You feel Henry’s mouth against your neck, his grin against your skin at your words, your knees trembling when you feel him push fingers inside you and hear him groan at your tightness. The delicious feeling of you stretching around him is gone as quick as it came and you let out a moan of protest, tightening your fingers in his hair in response.

You hear Henry chuckle in your ear and all of a sudden you feel his hands on your waist again, tugging and pulling your hips back towards him. You’ve no choice but to release his hair and just manage to catch yourself with your hands on the wall in front of you, your body now bent over with hips pressed back against Henry’s.

“You look so beautiful like this love” Henry groans, running his fingers down your spine, over your ass and down to your folds, “All bent over and waiting for me”. You flex your fingers against the tiled wall as the water cascades down your back, Henry’s touch on your most intimate spot making your head spin.

You’re about to open your mouth to tell him to stop teasing you, your voice suddenly catching when you feel him lining himself up with your entrance. His hand finds your hip again and you can feel just the tip of him pushing inside you, his grip on both of your hips suddenly tightening. Your muscles clench and your fingers flex against the tiled wall, the breath leaving your throat as you prepare your self for what’s about to happen. You’ve been wanting this since the moment you watched him in the gym earlier, your desire for your devastatingly sexy boyfriend bubbling up and threatening to burst inside you.

Henry chuckles and you know he’s thinking the same thing as you are, his voice suddenly deep, threatening and like velvet in your ears as it echoes around the shower. “Hold on love, this is going to be fast”.

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill imagine #Henry Cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill fan #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill smut #henry cavill edit #henry cavill request #henry cavill headcanon #henry cavill drabble

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lovelikedestiny · 3 years

Text

Still waters run deep | Part One

The morning after jumping out of a skyscraper, Nile does not expect to wake up to the smell of bacon and therefore lies quietly on her back for a few seconds while she tries to find out whether she's still asleep. Her growling stomach tells her otherwise, however, because apparently dying and coming back to life is quite stimulating for the metabolism and makes you damn hungry

The sore muscles she expected from yesterday's questionable actions – hey, she was shot several times and threw a teenager in a ridiculous hoodie blazer out of a window – do not materialize, and Nile doesn't know whether to embrace or curse this aspect of immortality. She decides to put everything that has to do with it in the farthest corner of her head and see to it that her stomach gets something to eat. At least this is a task she can easily handle and that is comforting considering all of the changes she has experienced in the past few days. To her surprise, there is only one other person in the kitchen of the house Andy chose to stay for last night. Nicky stands calmly at the stove and turns the bacon in the pan with practiced movements that Nile envies for their elegance. He's wearing something similar to the evening in Goussainville. His back - under the dark fabric of his shirt - is turned towards her and he doesn't give the impression that he was tortured in a laboratory for 18 hours. "Good morning, Nile," he says softly without turning around and Nile almost startles because she didn't expect him to notice her. But this man has been around for 900 years and has probably learned to tell the steps of his companions apart. And it's no wonder with as close as he and Joe are. "Hi," she says awkwardly and stands indecisively in the doorway until Nicky points to an empty chair at the table, still keeping his eyes on the pan. "Please take a seat. Would you like tea or coffee? " "Uh...coffee please," she replies and sinks into one of the chairs. “I can go straight back to bed without caffeine,” she adds jokingly, trying to lighten the mood that is overshadowed by yesterday's events, despite the pleasantly normal noises of sizzling bacon. As if Nicky had done it hundreds of times - this man has probably witnessed the development of this hot drink – he pushes a cup filled with wonderful fresh coffee over the table to her and the subtle smile that plays around the corner of his mouth is what Nile sees as a victory. However, she cannot help but notice the deep circles under his eyes; adorning his pale face. "Thank you." She puts both hands around the cup and sighs softly as the pleasant warmth envelops her fingers. Nicky gives her a friendly nod and goes back to the stove, where he begins to lift the bacon from the pan onto a plate. Without taking her eyes off him, Nile carefully takes a sip and waits until it has reached her stomach before she speaks to Nicky: “Did you sleep at all? You look terrible. And I say that knowing some people would be very likely to throw themselves at your feet if you looked at them." To be honest, she doesn't know how to behave towards him. She had so little time to get to know him and Joe better before they were kidnapped. Nevertheless, the couple was extremely nice and welcoming at dinner in France and Nile is sure that has not changed. "No," Nicky says simply, his tone still soft when he answers her and puts a plate of toast and bacon in front of her. "And it's enough for me that Joe throws himself at my feet." Nile, who didn't expect such a dry line, gives a surprised laugh and is rewarded with a small but mischievous grin from Nicky. This almost makes her forget the essential aspect of their conversation: Nicky hasn't slept. And with the way she felt after jumping out of the skyscraper, his body should actually be pretty exhausted. After all, he and Joe didn't get the gentle treatment in the lab. Before she can go into further detail, Nicky shrugs his shoulders, almost embarrassed. "Unfortunately, I can only be of service with toast and bacon. The kitchen has nothing more to offer here and I didn't want to leave the house." He doesn't say why he didn't want to leave the house and Nile doesn't dig deeper due to the dull shine of his eyes. "Hello? I could die for bacon!" Nile exclaims in an exaggeratedly dramatic way and inhales the salty smell of the said food deeply, but considering past events and their significance her joke leaves a bitter aftertaste.

She clears her throat uncomfortably and starts to eat while Nicky silently prepares another plate of toast and places it on the seat next to Nile, although he doesn't sit down. She opens her mouth to ask him why he isn't eating too when Joe's voice comes from the hallway. "Nicolo?" Even if she doesn't know him that well, she hears the slight alarm in his voice and Nicky notices it too. "In the kitchen, my heart," he replies quickly and gives Joe a tender smile as he enters the room. The dark-haired warrior immediately relaxes when he catches sight of Nicky and Nile realizes that Joe looks just as exhausted as Nicky just in other ways: his face has a pained expression, and his eyes are slightly puffy as if he had cried last night. And Nile can't blame him in the slightest, smiling encouragingly at him to make him feel like he doesn't have to hide anything from her. Sympathetic crinkles form around his eyes when he returns her smile, but the humorous spark that lurked in his gaze in Goussainville is missing. She concentrates on her breakfast when Joe and Nicky kiss and then put their foreheads together, which is so much more intimate than wild making out, as Nile has seen several times in public with other couples. Quietly mumbled words wander back and forth between them and despite the fact that Nile tries hard to focus on her coffee, she still listens to them a little. "Did you even sleep, Nicky?" Out of the corner of her eye she sees how Joe puts a hand on Nicky's cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb. “I'm fine, Joe. Really. I can catch up on sleep,” Nicky assures him just as quietly and puts his hand on Joe's, squeezing it gently. "Sit down. Unfortunately, there is only toast.” Joe makes an unsatisfied noise. “You should have woken me up. Then I could have stayed up with you and...” "Yusuf", Nicky interrupts him and there is so much warmth in his bright eyes that Nile quickly takes a long sip of coffee and burns her tongue, although the pain disappears seconds later. “You needed sleep. And I...” “You need sleep too! You were in that damn lab with me!” Joe interjects, his voice still lowered, but clearer. "... don't sleep very well after heavy missions,” Nicky ends the sentence calmly, as if Joe hadn't said anything. "When this is all over, you can tie me to the bed and we won't go out for a week, okay?" Joe sighs deeply but laughs softly. “A week in bed, huh? I like that thought." With another kiss, Nicky urges him to the seat next to Nile, where the other plate is already waiting. Joe falls heavily on the chair, accepts Nicky's coffee cup with a grateful smile and leans into the touch as Nicky briefly lets his hand slide through Joe's curls. “You're an angel,” Joe says, biting off the jam toast that Nicky has already made. It's just a small bite and Joe chews it for a long time, but Nile thinks it's better than not eating at all. "If I'm an angel, you are my heaven." Nicky rummages behind them at the sink and makes this statement as casually as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "Oh man," Nile says, eating her last piece of toast. "You're really disgustingly cute." Joe chuckles into his mug, but the chuckles stop abruptly when Booker walks into the kitchen. There is a really crushing silence for a few heartbeats and nobody moves. The problem with the Frenchman is that Nile absolutely thinks his betrayal sucks and can only shake her head at how he turned over the people who have accompanied him for centuries. But she understands his motives, has seen the deep pain that nests in him when he told her about his family, and she likes him. Nile sees in him someone who understands her current situation with her family. Booker shifts his weight, his bloodshot eyes darting back and forth between them and finally he starts moving and comes to the table. "Morning," he mumbles. Joe pretends not to have heard him, his eyes stubbornly fixed on the jam toast, although he only pushes the bitten bread around on his plate. Nile raises her hand in greeting. "Hello." "Good morning," Nicky says and Booker freezes in alarm, his hands on the back of the chair he has just pulled back to sit down. As if the Italian had yelled at him, but Nile sees no hostile behavior in Nicky's grip as he pours coffee into another mug. Even Joe takes a closer look at his lover and Nile's last strip of bacon remains lonely on her plate because she is absolutely confused by everyone's behavior. "I hope you saved a bunch of bacon for me, Nicky," Andy says as she appears in the kitchen. The warrior looks tired and beaten but moves with the same confidence and strength with which Nile first met her. She favors the side that Nicky patched up yesterday, but otherwise nothing of her new mortality can be seen. Nicky hands her the coffee cup and a plate on which you can barely see the toast under all the bacon. "That is out of the question." Andy narrows her eyes into ice blue triangles yet sits down at the breakfast table with her plate and mug, without taking her attention from Nicky. "Everything is fine so far?" "Always,” Nicky says simply and somehow automatic. Joe makes a face. “According to the circumstances, boss.” The swipe at Booker cannot be ignored, Booker stares at the floor. "And you?" Andy's snort is barking. "As good as new. And now eat your girl-toast. Nicky didn't make my toast that sweet." Joe shakes his head with a grin. "Bacon is also difficult to smear." "Exactly," Nicky says, stressing Joe's opinion by pointing at Andy's plate. "Bacon is fat, but not spreadable.” Whatever it is that the others hear in Nicky's voice, it makes them turn to the Italian who is still at the sink, now washing the pan. Nile nibbles on her last strip of bacon without saying a word because she doesn't want to miss anything. Only then does she notice that Booker is the only one who hasn't received a coffee cup or a full plate and has not yet sat down, as if he were unsure whether Nicky should bring him anything or whether he should get something himself. "Um," Booker makes a sound in his throat. It is not an offended sound, but just an expression of his discomfort and he moves to go to the wall cabinet where the cups are. The water in the sink runs out.

Then several things happen at once: Nicky turns around in a lightning-fast movement, something gleams metallic and suddenly Booker utters a French curse, staggering backwards and staring in disbelief at the knife that is stuck in his shoulder.

Andy jumps up. "NICKY!" "Merde!" Booker hisses and pulls out the knife – the knife Nicky threw – with clenched teeth, looking sadly at the blood on the blade and on his shirt. But before he can reply, Nicky is suddenly in front of him. Andy curses too and prepares to intervene, but the table is in the way and Nicky is too fast. With her mouth half open in shock, Nile can do nothing but watch as Nicky skillfully snatches the knife from Booker's grip, knocks him with a short, violent blow against the wall and rams the weapon millimeters from Booker's face into the wallpaper. She can't believe that this is the man who kindly showed her the bed in France and apologetically declared a few minutes ago that he could only serve toast and bacon for breakfast as if that were a criminal offense. On the other hand, Nicky is the only one who hasn't expressed his anger so far. Joe was pretty verbal in the lab and wasn't shy about saying what he thought of Booker's actions, and Andy just seemed too exhausted and tired of all the shit she's been through in her many, many years to be particularly outraged. But Nicky was the one who soothed Joe yesterday and coaxed Andy with gentle touches into letting him treat her wound. And however, Nile expected his anger to be expressed, she didn't expect this kind of anger; this icy wrath that doesn't burst out of Nicky uncontrollably like Joe's yesterday but is purposefully and controlled and therefore all the more intimidating and frightening. Booker stares wide-eyed at Nicky, who has one hand still on the knife rammed into the wall and the other buried in Booker's shirt, holding Booker firmly in place, his face just inches from Booker's. "Did that hurt?" Nicky finally asks so gently that Nile wouldn't have understood him if it hadn't been for dead silence in the kitchen. And although Nicky has not raised his voice, a shiver runs down Nile's spine, because beneath the gentleness you can clearly hear an unsettling coldness.

Can be found on AO3 too :)

#the old guard #Nile Freeman #Nicolo di Genova #Yusuf al-Kaysani #Sebastien le Livre #Andromache the Scythian #morning after merrick #part one #fanfiction #still waters run deep

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crvsh-culture · 3 years

Note

If you’re still doing kissing prompts, could you possibly do 25 for Marisol x MC? Thanks x

Date night | Marisol

honestly 🤡 for never answering this before- i’m so sorry. i’m trying clean out my inbox, so hopefully i’ll be posting all long overdue asks soon (:

series: love island the game

character: marisol

kiss prompt 25: wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain.

warnings: none

Planning the night for date night between you and Marisol never meant choosing what you would really like to do. It was always finding something that the other was just dying to do, so you knew the occasion to go out dancing was very long overdue. Making the plans- including the purchasing of new outfits for the both of you- meant you had no thoughts to check for the weather and what it held that night. It hadn’t mattered, the moment the sun went down and the both of you were still out dancing, feet aching but an insistent need to ignore that because you both were having such a good time.

So when you excited the building, practically swept out along with a small crowd that also wanted to stay, you were taken aback by the absolute down pour happening. There was no cover outside of the building and there was no taxi that was free for the stormy night.

“It’s not that far.” You reason, earning a scowl in response.

“You can’t be serious!”

“Well, we can’t just stand here!” You couldn’t hold back the laugh as Marisol’s hair began to stick to her cheeks, pout fully on display. “Come on, we’ll get sick if we stand here.” taking the woman’s hand in your own, you urged her to walk through the rain, a walk that quickly came to a run as the storm grew even heavier.

“This is ridiculous!” Marisol groans, tugging at your hand to move towards one of the closed shops on the street, one with a small covering atop its windows. “We will get sick if we just run through the rain like that. We can wait here for it to let up, okay?” She pulls you close as she tries to huddle away from the rain, face pressing into your neck as she pouts about not even having an umbrella.

“Hey.” You gently guide her face away, running a finger to collect smudged makeup away from her eyes. “You’re so pretty like this.” Marisol’s face twists for a moment, unsure of the compliment, before your hands feel the warmth pooling across her cheeks. “That’s it, i just have to kiss you.”

And you do exactly that, ignoring the droplet falling from the tip of her nose and freshening the kiss with rain water. It’s just the type of kiss Marisol needed to gain her motivation back to walk home- once she was done with you, of course. Her hands lock around your waist to trap you in as she pulls you close to allow the kiss to linger far longer than you had intended. When you finally pull back, Marisol chases for another silent peck.

“Ready to get home now?”

Marisol finally opens her eyes just to give them a dramatic roll, “You better check the weather next time.”

#i love when women #litg marisol #litg #love island the game #litg s2 #ask crush

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pigeontheoneandonly · 4 years

Text

Flotsam

Also on AO3.

For the first few hours, the sound of her breath, loud in her ears, and the slow slithery shiver of adrenaline draining from her body proved sufficient companions to distract her from hopelessness. Several hundred meters away, the wreckage of Normandy’s riven fuselage began to cool.

Shepard revolved slowly in the void. There was absolutely nothing to stop her. She suspected it would get old fast, but for now she had bigger problems. She tapped away at her omni-tool and projected a display of biometric indicators onto the inside of her helmet’s visor. Her suit wasn’t compromised or she’d be long dead already. Some percussive trauma from the explosion, and a hell of a welt where she hit the bulkhead on her way out. Her head and shoulders ached something fierce.

Nothing life-threatening. She moved down her list of priorities. Water reservoir: meager, but full. Food: none. (Technically, a bag of dried fruit in her pouch, but it might as well be on the planet below for all the good it did her now.) Carbon air filters: new, with seven full days of use remaining.

After weeks of moping about no action, scanning geth in the Terminus, Kaidan finally convinced her to tend her gear. Yesterday. It took a few long breaths to suppress the could-have-been panic, so tangible that her blood pressure spiked. The old gunked-up filters wouldn’t have lasted seven hours, let alone seven days.

She could only hope her shouting at him had returned the favor, that he’d boarded an escape shuttle and saved his life. The shuttles had streaked across Alchera’s thin sky while she sat here turning like a spit roast, hair floating in her helmet and getting in her eyes, trailing plasma until they vanished into specks, and then into nothing.

The spinning really was growing tired with nothing in reach to arrest it. Her gun would’ve been very useful about now, a slow and dirty method to propel herself. Shepard supposed she should count herself lucky it wasn’t faster, some dizzying speed meant to leave her unconscious.

A bubble of laughter escaped her mouth. Then another. It grew into a chuckle and then a full-grown hysterical cackle. Lucky. That was funny. She’d never heard anything funnier in her life.

Enough of that. Third priorities. Comms. Shepard began scanning all the frequencies, standard and emergency both, and winced as Normandy’s beacon screeched into her ear. It cleared the ship before the explosion. She closed her eyes; that was one worry down. However, no amount of fiddling would persuade her transmitter to work. She was on her own.

No remedy but to wait. The Alliance would respond, because there was no other option, and Shepard refused to accept defeat. She shut her eyes and folded her arms over her chest, intending sleep. Then spread them wide again as it only served to speed up that infernal spin.

* * *

By the second day, the silence bothered her as much as spinning without cessation. That, and the dark. When they were on the far side of Alchera and its bulk blocked Amada’s light, Shepard couldn’t see a hand before her face. She fought the urge to activate her headlamps. No pressing need for illumination existed, and it would only run down her batteries, which were much better spent on other trivialities like air circulation.

She sang, for a time, in the dark. Never had much of a voice. Never cared for music, if it came to that. But it was the only company she had.

* * *

Debris glittered in the twilight. They were headed into another night, all of them together, these slowly whirling fragments of her ship, all moving at slightly different velocities. Her only entertainment these long hours was watching them dance and collide and drift away again.

Her proximity alert began to sound.

Shepard was famed for her reflexes. Those instincts, that hair-trigger reaction time, had kept her alive through a decade of military service and every scrape that came before. They made her the pride of the navy, the first human spectre. Chosen by a turian of all people. She chuckled to herself. Her mother hadn’t believed it, at the time.

The alert continued to beep insistently.

That was important, wasn’t it? Had to be. When one second blurred into hours like this with no sign of passing, urgency ceased to exist, and thought became a fog. Like breathing through molasses.

Proximity alarm flashed on her HUD.

Proximity alarm. Proximity alarm!

Her eyes flew wide. She jerked instinctively, trying to look behind her, and that motion only added another axis to her tumble. But it did bring the offending object into few. A composite panel with a ceramic-slathered titanium skin, a portion of the upper section of the ship, stenciled part and serial numbers winking in the sunset. It traveled sedately in a straight path with no notable additional motion.

Directly towards her, in fact.

She flailed uselessly. Unsurprisingly, the bit of space junk did not care.

At the last second she braced herself, her forearms flying in front of her fragile visor and taking the brunt of the impact. All the air went out of her as her teeth clacked together. If it slowed even a fraction, she couldn’t tell. She thought her right arm might be broken. A blinking message on her HUD confirmed it.

Shepard took a heavy breath, and then another. No hiss of air accompanied the hiss of pain in her limb. No spiderweb cracks splayed across her vision, threatening to shatter. She got hold of herself.

The panel continued to push her along like a plow. They were in no immediate risk of further collision. And—

The spinning…

Oh sweet, merciful fate, the spinning had stopped.

And, to her delight after tentative experimentation, she could move. Really move, with purpose put her body someplace else, by pulling herself along the much heavier piece of her ship.

Curling her good arm around its rough edge, clinging to her driftwood like a child, she fell into her first restful sleep.

* * *

Her mouth was parched. No better than half-awake, she sucked instinctively at the tube in her helmet. She got down two whole mouthfuls before she realized and spat out the tube in a panic. Frantically, she cued up her monitor, and her face fell into her boots. Less than a quarter remained.

It was hunger, she decided. Over the past day she’d become increasingly lightheaded. The ache in her gut had passed, but that was hardly reassuring.

Normandy’s emergency beacon continued to blare. One had joined it from the ground, a counterpoint lasting approximately an hour out of each orbit. So some of her crew had survived. At least when she died here, that wouldn’t weigh on her conscience.

Shepard did not dare allow herself to wonder if Kaidan was among them. Down that path lay madness. Or at least a decent nervous breakdown.

Her head rested against the panel. It made for a comfortable enough bed in microgravity. Something solid to ground her. It had gotten colder, too. Vacuum turned her suit into a thermos but a little heat seeped, regardless; had to, or her suit would cook her alive. Kaidan liked to read. Always had his nose in his datapad, every minute of downtime aboard ship, at least when he wasn’t tinkering with his omni-tool. Shepard smiled fondly. What was that one he kept poking her to try?

Ah, yes. Her smile broadened. A Fire Upon the Deep. Also, loosely, about a shipwreck. It felt appropriate.

Hope grew thinner by the moment, not as a matter of faith, but of pragmatism. She might as well burn the power. A command to her omni-tool projected the first page onto her helmet visor.

Her eyebrows rose with every chapter. Shepard enjoyed a good genre novel as much as the next person, but this was ridiculous. Sometimes she couldn’t believe his affection for this sort of thing. He really was such a nerd.

* * *

It had gotten very cold, now. Frost crowded the edges of her visor, growing with every expelled breath and robbing her of what little moisture remained in her mouth. The pain in her stomach had returned.

A few bars of a song mumbled between her chattering teeth. Some asari pop hit. Tali had been singing it for days, getting it all stuck in their heads on loop. It had driven Shepard to distraction. She’d give anything for it to distract her now. Dying slowly wasn’t exactly in the marine handbook. More than once, her good hand had wandered to her helmet seal, and contemplated just being done with it.

But marines didn’t give up. Shepard didn’t give up. Even if it was the sanest thing she could possibly do.

Her thoughts had become near-solid sludge. Her oxygen saturation was declining, as her filters were increasingly expended. Doubtless at some point she’d be insensible enough from carbon dioxide poisoning to actually do it. She didn’t find it comforting, nor the right kind of distracting.

Or maybe she’d fall asleep first, slowly drift away into nothingness from lack of oxygen. That seemed… preferable.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t considered her options. Her raft failed to carry her in reach of anything. They continued to make their slow way towards the fuselage, the largest part of the wreck, but she doubted they would reach it before her luck ran out. She could jump, though she’d have to kick off and leave the raft, a small sacrifice for the greater shelter of her ruined ship. If she hit her target. And they were far enough away, this panel and her, that odds were she’d miss the fuselage entirely.

Shepard tried to remember the next line of the song. Something about crests backlit by twin suns…

Her comm blinked.

She blinked back, utterly confused. The emergency beacons had been filtered out days ago. But she activated the audio.

“—ormandy, Normandy, Normandy, this is SSV Cairo. Respond, over.”

Shepard responded without thinking. “Cairo, this is Normandy Actual, over.”

A long pause. “Normandy, Normandy, Normandy, this is SSV Cairo. Respond, over.”

Her transmitter. For a moment, she forgot.

She slumped in her suit as the message continued to repeat, searching the void for survivors. She raised herself up on the raft to peer over the lip. Now that she was looking for it, she could just make out the Cairo’s running lights through the frost, multicolored specks far too orderly to be stars. Maybe fifty or a hundred kilometers off the port bow, in as much as that applied to a wreck. It might as well be light years.

No rescue was coming for her. They had no reason to believe anyone still located at the wreck was alive.

The line crackled. “Cairo, this is Normandy. You don’t know how glad we are to hear from you.”

Her eyes flew wide. Kaidan. That was Kaidan. She clutched the side of her helmet as if it could bring his voice any nearer. Kaidan was alive. He was speaking to her now.

Well, not her. But she could hear him, and that was enough.

The Cairo asked for details. Kaidan delivered stark facts without any consideration for how they hit her in waves of misery and elation. Twenty-one of her crew were dead. But twenty-three had lived— twenty-four if she bothered to add in herself. They made it to the surface.

His voice caught when he explained he was the highest-ranking officer left alive. Shepard rested her fore-helmet against smooth curve of her raft and shut her eyes, resisting the urge to bang her head. I’m here. I’m right here. Damn it.

He sent their location, and the Cairo responded by scrambling shuttles. They moved towards her; she guessed from the strength of the transmission that the wreckage and herself with it hung directly over the survivor’s camp.

Every marine was issued a mirror as part of the standard kit, for signaling. Shepard slipped hers out of its pouch and angled it as best she could, trying to flash it into the video ports of the Kodiaks, without success. They dropped down to Alchera without a twitch of deviation from their course.

There would be one more chance when they came back up. She began to peer around the debris field, more awake than she’d been in days. Maybe she would live through this after all.

* * *

Shepard hung cantilevered off the Normandy panel. It had been her lifeboat, but if she stayed with it now, she’d drown. It should be massive enough to allow her a good kick. This idea had been considered and dismissed several times due to the high margins of error created by distance. But between the raft’s stately forward progress and her slim window of opportunity, its time had arrived.

Farewell, friend. She planted both boots and shoved hard.

It gave, ever so slightly, but sent her sailing towards the ruined fuselage, and at great enough velocity that she reached it after only five or ten minutes. Her aim was good. She’d worried about missing the target, for all of a few seconds, which was longer than she usually spent contemplating the risks or the odds once she acted. Her extended stay in this lonely wasteland was getting to her.

Catching herself on a twisted beam, once part of Normandy’s backbone, she carefully lowered her feet until the magnets in her soles caught. A giddy smile crossed her face. Part one— success.

She wandered the ruins at a crawling pace. Discovering the intact pack of air filtration cartridges in what remained of the ship’s armory nearly caused a breakdown. Nowhere left was or could be pressurized. And even if she somehow managed to stretch her one working arm far enough to open her suit while equipped, it would only vent her air. It felt like drowning in a fish tank; safety right before her eyes, and Shepard unable to reach through the glass.

The medical supplies presented similar challenges. Her suit material had enough self-healing to withstand a hypodermic prick or two, and it was a moot point anyway, since it relied on elasticity to provide mechanical counterpressure. Vacuum and cold, however, made a ruin of Chakwas’ stores. A crystallized vial of morphine mocked her from her palm. She clenched her fist around it and made a concerted effort to pack away the pain of her fracture, back where it belonged.

Shepard needed a comm.

No power remained aboard the ship. But power wasn’t her biggest problem. And eventually, she found what she was looking for.

The body turned over easily, if a bit awkward to manhandle. Shepard stared at her for a good long time. Longer, really than she could afford. Her name was Caroline Grenado. She’d been the off-duty co-pilot at the time of the attack, asleep in the hot bunks when the alarm began to sound. Judging by her kit and the fact that her body survived the explosion, she did everything right; got in her suit, ran for the shuttles. The massive storm of fire engulfing Deck 2 caused fluid lines in the hull to explode. One had almost hit Shepard herself as she made for the stairs.

Shepard removed her helmet with unusual gentleness. Blood clotted in her hair where her head had hit the inside of the helmet, confirming her suspicion about Grenado’s cause of death. Just bad rotten luck.

Angry, she turned away and squatted upside-down on the deck, peering into the helmet. Alliance wired all their personnel with internal comms. Those short-range devices in turn hooked into mid-range comms like those found in the helmets. But the helmet could also transmit just fine on its own. Fail safes upon fail safes was practically a spaceflight motto.

If her comm’s allegiance could be changed, it was beyond Shepard’s technical skills. So she did the only thing she could. She began tapping the mic.

Her own receiver confirmed the transmission. Harsh as shit on the ears, but every screech of white noise brought her closer to living another day. Morse code was not her strong suit, but hell, even kids knew how to send S.O.S.

* * *

Her wrist ached like her hand was on the verge of falling off. The distress signal staggered out, disjointed, trailing off. The shuttles had come and gone without slowing down.

It couldn’t end like this. The Alliance actually came to save them. She’d survived the explosion, somehow. She made it back to the ship and damn it, she found a way to communicate. She knew she had the correct channel. What was wrong?

In the distance, the Cairo’s lights shone, sparks of mocking hope. In a fit of frustration and a naked thread of fear, Shepard threw the helmet across the broken room. It sailed on unerringly and bounced off the burnt mass of the opposite bulkhead. Shepard made not even a token attempt to grab it as it ricocheted past her and off into the abyss.

Her head slumped forward until it was buried in her hands, palms covered her visor, fingertips digging into the tough plastic like they were trying to pierce it through. It couldn’t end like this. Not alone, frozen fast in the dark, fading away, breathing bad air.

It couldn’t.

She hadn’t cried. She didn’t, as a general rule, not to save face but because Shepard counted herself among nature’s stoics. The impulse rarely visited her. But now she took a great heaving breath through her nose, feeling her throat grow thick and hot.

If she ever gave it half a thought, and she really hadn’t, dwelling in the shadow of her own mortality for her entire career should’ve inured her to this moment, an inoculation against existential dread. And in truth, she’d never been scared to die. And she wasn’t scared now. This… this anxiety, this dismay, it concerned something else.

Death brought her no terror. She’d been happy. Just for a moment.

Her eyes squeezed shut. A drop of water slithered down her face and entered the corner of her mouth, a burst of salt.

At least Kaidan lived.

The attempt to self-soothe backfired. The dam burst. She hugged her knees up to her chest, rocking back and forth with only her mag boots to hold her down. Goddammit. Life never cared about what she deserved, but did it have to be this fucking unfair? Did this have to happen now?

The only sound in the universe was her sniffling and swallowed sobs. Somewhere behind them, a dim, chiding awareness that she could not afford to waste this water, and a louder voice answering that she couldn’t be paid to give a shit. Her one chance at survival hadn’t panned out. It was over.

Then a bit of light trickled between her knees. It took her a second to understand. She raised her head in utter disbelief.

A Kodiak, slowly nosing through the debris field. Following her signal.

Shepard rose, slowly, shaking with dehydration and mild CO2 poisoning. Tentatively, she waved her arms as the shuttle turned fully towards her.

* * *

Fifteen minutes for the Kodiak to reach her and maneuver into a “catch” position felt like fifty years. But eventually, the hatch lifted out and slid to the side. Behind it, faceless people, Cairo crew behind a mass effect field, gestured her to jump.

Even secure in the knowledge that if she missed, they’d circle back and get her, Shepard had no desire to spend another second exposed in space. She positioned herself carefully, disengaged her mag boots, and pushed off, floating as fast as she dared towards safety and life.

As her outstretched hand crossed the field, the nearest crew member grabbed her sore wrist and hauled her in. The sudden reappearance of gravity felt like an anvil dropping on her. She sagged, tugged off her helmet and threw it to the floor, filled her lungs with good clean oxygen in gulping breaths. Then Shepard was yanked upright as someone threw their arms around her and pulled her tight.

Her broken arm twisted. Shepard screamed, that jolt of white-hot pain so unexpected she couldn’t brace herself against the reaction.

Her assailant let go, fast, and stepped back. She saw his face. Kaidan. Kaidan!

He seemed to be suffering the same tongue-tying hesitant joy, as if speaking a single word would reveal the trick.

Words were overrated. She put her good arm around his neck and hugged him close. His arms folded around her, more gently this time, and whispered into her ear. “I knew you were alive. I knew that signal had to be you.”

She pressed her face into his cheek, and let that be enough.

#mass effect #femshep #shenko #fshenko #fanfiction #still not totally happy with this but i'm ready to move on

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years

Text

I Could Be Your Sometimes Part Four

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only Notes: Set before the series Texts with times in front of them and no name or initials in front of them indicate reader’s texts

Warnings: Eventual infidelity and sexual content. If you dislike this, please don’t read. Thank you. Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader Summary: Laurie was where my communication with the Barber family started and stopped for about two weeks.

I learned that Laurie was one of those people that texted an upside-down smiley face to mean things like ‘no problem!’ and not ‘I’m dying inside!’ like the rest of the world. She and I had promised to keep in touch-- right before I’d had nearly forty uninterrupted minutes with Andy. Forty minutes that I had absolutely tried not to dwell on but had definitely spent way too much of my downtime dissecting. Laurie and I didn’t text one another constantly. Now and again she’d send me an article that she thought I might find interesting, or I’d link her to a podcast that I thought might suit her tastes. But Laurie was where my communication with the Barber family started and stopped for about two weeks. That is, until I got a call on my cell phone at 8:06 pm on Thursday from a number I didn’t know. I hesitated in picking it up -- it was rare that a client or a source called me that late unless it was an emergency. I was still at the office, and I was dreading the prospect of what had become a late night becoming an even later one. “Hello?” I answered it, grimacing. “You hungry?” Andy’s voice crackled over the line. My brow furrowed. “How did you get my number?” I asked. “From Laurie’s phone,” was his easy answer, “You hungry?” “Is this part of some kind of town-wide survey I don’t know about? Like is this where my tax-payer dollars are going?” “Yes or no, c’mon, I‘m getting cold out here.” I frowned, pushing myself up from my desk and walking over to the window. I looked outside to see Andy there, leaning against my car and looking up at the building. Why was he here this late? Shouldn’t he be getting home? Why was he even calling me-- “Give me five minutes,” I said. That talk that I’d given myself about boundaries hadn’t exactly sunk in.

-- “I don’t know,” Andy shook his head as he loosened his tie, “I mean on the one hand I’ve sort of mentored the guy, but... He’s been more outwardly ambitious lately. Not gunning for our boss’ job, but talking about what he’d do differently if he was in her position.” “I mean, that’s not the worst thing in the world. I don’t always agree with Nora, sometimes there are things that I think she could be doing differently.” “Yeah, but do you go around to your coworkers and discuss them?” Andy asked. I shook my head. “Exactly,” He muttered before he picked his water up for a drink. I considered this for a moment. “Well... I think you have to decide what’s more important to you: your interpersonal relationships or office politics. You say you’ve mentored the guy-- ‘sort of’ mentored the guy, but he’s been vocal about disagreeing with you boss. If you stick too close to him, that could signal to your boss that you’re not on her side, even if you are,” I offered, “And it doesn’t mean that you can’t be friends with the guy, but sometimes that bit of distance is important.” God, did I sound like a fucking hypocrite or what? Our conversation was interrupted by our food arriving. “Alright, the fact that you have a ‘late-night usual’ here is making me a little worried,” Andy commented, watching as I picked up one of my fries. We’d wound up at Harvey’s Diner around the corner from my office building - which was only a few blocks from the court house. “We’re a small firm, sometimes things are all-hands-deck. And sometimes it’s not even work related, sometimes I just want a grilled cheese with bacon and tomato and like, ten o’clock,” I shrugged, “I have to call to get it delivered, they’re not on Seamless or anything. They know me.” "Well, that only makes me slightly less worried,” Andy said. I snorted. “Which is pretty hypocritical, considering the fact that you’re here right now,” I pointed out. “I mean, yeah, but I at least had to look at the menu,” Andy argued. “Whatever,” I waved it off, “What’s got you here so late, anyway?” “I had a conference call with a witness that’s in LA right now. They had to take a trip, family business,” Andy said. We both went quiet as we tucked into our food, I into my grilled cheese, and Andy into his burger. “How often would you say you stay at work late?” He asked. I folded my arms on the table, raising a brow. “Why do you ask?” “Just...Ballpark, how often would you say you’ve stayed late over the last couple of weeks?” I narrowed my eyes at him. This felt like a trap. “Ballpark? Three times.” “Eight,” Andy corrected. “Have you been spying on me? Weirdo,” I accused, pointing at him with a fry. “I drive past your office on my way home. Once I realized it was your car...” He trailed off, “I’m just saying, if I’m heading home before you do that often, there might be a problem.” "We’ve been busy, is all. We’re in the process of hiring new people, but until we’re able to, the work still has to get done,” I excused. Andy’s leg brushed against mine under the table before it settled there, his foot hooking around the back of my ankle. I frowned at him, curious. “You’re too young to start burning out,” He chided softly. “I’m not burnt out yet. You can’t have this conversation with me for at least another week,” I teased, knocking my knee against his gently. He smiled, but he shook his head. "Yeah, well, I’d rather not worry about you the entire drive home for another week,” He said. I dropped my eyes to my plate, picking up another fry and swirling it around my little splodge of ketchup. “You don’t have to worry about me,” I absolved him. "Logically, no, I don’t. That doesn’t stop me from worrying, though,” He murmured. I chanced a glance at his face, and immediately realized I shouldn’t have - he was watching me with this almost nervous care, like he’d frighten me off if he spoke any louder or leaned in too close. And maybe he would. I was already alarmed by my rekindled interest in the guy. It was as hopeless as it was when I was younger. Nothing was going to happen between the two of us, no matter how much I thought about it. I shook my head. “You’ve got more important shit to worry about,” I passed it off before nodding to his burger, “Like your food getting cold.” “We need to have a serious talk about your self-esteem if you think you rank below a burger on my list of priorities,” Andy raised a brow. I shouldn’t even be on your list of priorities, I thought, and I was itching to say it, but instead I shrugged. “I just know my own worth and how good the burgers are here,” I said. Andy looked like he was preparing to wind up for another pass at whatever this conversation was. “What’d you wind up doing with that pro-bono case?” I asked, diverting him before he could say anything else. He cut me a look that told me that he knew exactly what I was doing, but he didn’t call me out on it. “I managed to talk my boss into taking the legalese case, backed it with the reasoning you and I talked about.” "Wow,” I said, brows raising, “She went for that?” "It was solid reasoning,” Andy defended, shifting in his seat and leaning back in the booth, “Besides, when we win, we can point back to the firm that gave us the defense.” “When, huh?” I repeated, “Someone’s feeling good about it.” ”Yeah, well, I know what I’m doing,” Andy said firmly. I shook my head at the cocky smile that had overtaken his face. “And that confidence, that’s never bitten you in the ass?” I asked. “Nope,” Andy said, popping the ‘p’ as he leaned forward, picking his water up. “Maybe I should’ve included the definition of ‘hubris’ somewhere in those slides,” I sighed, then gasped when Andy flicked the cold condensation from his glass at me. “Rude, Barber!” -- “What’d you forget?” Andy’s voice was close behind me as I pulled my ID badge out to swipe into my office building. I turned around to face him, frowning. “Ah...Nothing?” “Cause your car is right there,” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. I folded my arms over my chest, giving him a stern look. “I still have work to do,” I reminded him. Andy sighed, lowering his eyes and shaking his head. “You should go home,” He argued. "I will, yeah, once I’m finished,” I agreed. I took another step back toward my building, adding, “Thank you dinner.” I watched Andy lift his eyes to mine before he sucked that plush lower lip between his teeth, clearly wanting to say something else. “Sure,” He said finally. He stepped closer, arms open, and I let myself be drawn into a hug, my face pressed into the collar of his peacoat. "Please don’t stay too late,” He urged quietly, breath ruffling my hair. “I won’t,” I mumbled, “It’s just some finishing touches on a few slides-- But if I tell myself I’ll do it in the morning, I’ll be up all night thinking about it.” Andy stepped back, looking down at me. He gave my arm a light squeeze before letting go. “Text me when you get home,” He said. I nodded, watching him walk away and immediately missing his warmth. -- (6:21 AM) AB: I never got a text and I’m hoping that’s not because you slept at your office. I had woken up to that text and had been almost stunned by it. Some part of me had almost thought that the night before had been some kind of ridiculous daydream, but there was Andy’s text, on my screen, chastising me for not keeping my promise. (7:39 AM) My desk chair actually folds out.

I’d sent the text off and gotten up, going about my morning routine. When I picked my phone up, I saw that I’d gotten a response, but I put off reading it. I didn’t want to get too used to this, this contact. It was better if my Barber interactions went through Laurie. I had spent far too long at my office last night mulling over our dinner, over Andy’s comment about his priorities, over the feeling of his leg resting against mine. I waited until I was back at my desk at nearly 9 to see what he’d texted me. (8:02 AM) AB: You’re kidding, but I wouldn’t put it past you. (8:33 AM) AB: ... You are kidding, right?

I held off answering until I’d settled in, checked my emails, gotten a few things sorted. (9:34 AM) Thanks again for dinner.

(9:36 AM) AB: You didn’t answer about the desk chair and now I’m really worried that you weren’t kidding. (9:46 AM) Shouldn’t you be in court? (9:47 AM) AB: Who says I’m not? (9:59 AM) Common sense, mostly.

(10:04 AM) AB: I’m in my office. (10:39 AM) AB: Hungry? (10:52 AM) Is that all you think about? Food? (11:03 AM) AB: We could grab lunch. I bet you have a regular lunch order at Harvey’s that I don’t know about. What was he doing? There was no way he was this worried about whether or not I was taking care of myself. A moment later, my phone buzzed again with a text from Laurie - a link to an upcoming exhibit at the Gardner Museum. And then a far more logical Andy-related conclusion popped into my head: maybe Laurie had mentioned that I seemed lonely (not having plans on a Friday night, learning that I worked late most nights if Andy had mentioned it to her), or had voiced some other concern, and this way his way of assuaging that. It seemed like something he’d do to make her happy. I sent Laurie a quick ‘thanks’ before I opened Andy’s the text, finally answering: (11:18 AM) Slammed with meetings today, brought my own. Thanks, though

(11:19 AM) AB: Maybe next time. (11:19 AM) AB: Don’t work too hard. I scoffed, setting my phone down with a mumble of, “Don’t tell me what to do.”

#andy barber x reader #andy barber #andy barber imagine #andy barber x you #I Could Be Your Sometimes

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courage-in-immensity · 3 years

Note

18 any OTH dynamic

OTH Prompt: “If I die, I’m haunting you first”

Clara Backstory: OC Dynamic

“If I die, I’m haunting you first!” Sara’s shrill voice reached Jessica’s ears over the rush of the water below them. “Do you even know how high this bridge is?”

“I couldn’t tell you in feet, I’m British,” her room-mate shrugged, grinning infuriatingly. Where the hell did the girl get her reckless nature?

“I really don’t like you sometimes, Parker,” Sara groaned, shuddering as she peered into the water against her better judgement.

“You love me,” Jessica giggled. “I’d jump with you but the boys around here might get the wrong idea if you take so long that we have to keep holding hands.”

“If I wasn’t so freaked, I’d be offended, but as it happens, you’re off the hook. That guy Alex from the diner earlier has been ogling you for ages. Why don’t you just leave me here and go for it?”

Jessica’s eyes lit up when she spotted the dark-haired flirt staring at her from a distance. “That boy is fine,” she sighed dreamily. Then she bit her lip regretfully. “Will you be okay on your own?”

“I’ll manage,” Sara muttered, the nervous tension twisting her insides in knots. “Go!”

The hustle and bustle of the bar she sat in wrenched Jessica from her musings eventually. She had wanted to be helpful but just arriving back on American soil for the first time since her college years had thrown her for a loop. Add to that the fact that her best friend was dead and she didn’t really know how to feel right now. Even the chattering of other patrons couldn’t pique her interest right now, notorious gossip though she was.

“Is this seat taken?” Jessica lifted her head reluctantly, prepared to snap at whoever dared interrupt her internal whirlwind of emotions. Instead, she felt her jaw drop.

“Alex,” she whispered. Then found her voice to speak louder over the noise around them. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You really have to ask?” he demanded, none of that cockiness she remembered in his words. “Sara’s gone.” Struggling to breathe around the lump swelling in her throat, the British girl gestured at the empty seat beside her. “I brought my Nonna’s famous pasta recipe all the way from Europe. How lame is that?”

“It’s not lame at all,” Jessica told him. “You come from the land of the ultimate comfort food, we could all use some of that.”

“You look good, Jessie,” he said softly. “I hope it’s okay to say that. I’m way out of my element here.”

“I think we all are,” she pointed out. “Did you go to see Clay already?”

“That sister of his is acting like a gate-keeper,” Alex grimaced. “Makes you wonder how bad the spiral must be if even we feel this crappy.”

“She’s just trying to protect him,” said Jessica defensively.

“Oh that’s right, Jessica Parker can’t hear a word against Lily and James Potter,” Alex teased, sounding like the guy she remembered from college for the first time. “You’re like a loyal little puppy.”

“Shut up!” She took a swing at him, but Alex grabbed her hand before she could land a punch to his arm.

“Oh no you don’t, missy.”

“Let go of me, Alex,” Jessica demanded and it was her tone that made him drop her hand. He was used to annoyance and exasperation from the British girl; this sadness was new. But then, what else could there be but misery under the circumstances?

“Sorry,” he sighed. “You know I don’t mean to bug you, it just kind of happens.”

“Life happens,” Jessica pointed out quietly. “And sometimes it royally sucks.”

“Amen,” Alex agreed, raising his beer in her direction.

“You’re not even offering to buy me a drink with that smug grin?” Jessica marveled. “I guess times really have changed.”

“I can take a hint, Parker,” he said stiffly. “I’m here for my best friend, chasing you was never my intention.”

“And my best friend is dead,” Jessica breathed, the words barely audible since they didn’t feel remotely real to even say out loud. “You know, all I can think right now is how she promised to haunt me if that bridge jump that we did in college had killed her? How ridiculous is that?”

“I don’t think it’s ridiculous at all,” Alex told her softly. “Man, that was a crazy day, huh?”

“Wild,” she agreed. “Did you know that even after things ended between us, Clay and Sara were the reason I believed in soulmates?” Jessica took a deep breath, the threat of tears was way too real right now. “This isn’t fair!” With an involuntary squeak of suppressed emotion, the girl covered her eyes. “Oh God, I promised myself I wasn’t going to lose it. I came here to be useful, damn it!”

“You’re plenty useful, Jessie.” She felt Alex put his arm around her, not trusting herself to look up yet.

“You’ve gone soft, Walker,” she mumbled, attempting to joke but the pain was still too close to the surface. “I’m uh…I’m sorry about this.”

“I’m not,” he said truthfully. “It’s nice to have something feel so familiar when the idea of Sara being gone is so damn surreal. Don’t you think so?”

“I…I hadn’t really thought about it like that,” Jessica stammered. She finally lifted her head and immediately wished she hadn’t. Alex’s dark eyes were full of more warmth and understanding than she had ever known him to possess in college. “This feels so bizarre.”

“By this do you mean us?” Alex asked, gesturing between them, and she nodded mutely. “It doesn’t need to, you know. We’re both here for the same reason, nothing else really matters right now.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Could you say that again? I don’t think I heard you right.” Just like that the teasing smirk was back and Jessica rolled her eyes at him half-heartedly.

“Would it kill you to be sincere for more than five minutes, Alex?” she mused in exasperation. “You are so frustrating!”

“You love me,” he said jokingly, if for no other reason than to get her out of her own tornado of feelings. What he wasn’t expecting was a shaky nod.

“God knows why, but I actually do,” Jessica sighed, wiping her eyes subtly. “I missed you, Alex. I just hate that it took Sara freaking dying to get us back on the same page. I wish things were different. I mean just thinking about that poor little baby is breaking my heart.”

“It’s a good heart you’ve got there, Parker,” he said, throwing caution to the wind to give her a one-armed hug. “For the record, I missed you too.” He cautiously pressed a kiss to her cheek and rather than the instinctive urge to flinch, the fleeting touch felt like a safe haven. “We’ll get through this, okay? I promise!”

“Do you still want to buy me a drink?” she asked with a shaky laugh.

“If that’s what you want, absolutely,” said Alex without even thinking.

To his surprise, Jessica swiveled her bar stool around to face him and pressed herself into his arms. “Actually, what I really want is this, believe it or not.”

“That works too,” said Alex, stroking her hair gently.

She couldn’t blame the surprising tenderness entirely, but that touch was when Jessica finally broke. “She’s really gone,” she choked. “How the hell does shit like this happen?”

“I don’t know.” Alex sighed and pulled her closer. “Life is short, Jessie. Why don’t we head back to Clay’s and I can make my Nonna’s famous pasta for everybody? I think sticking together is how we’ll get through this.”

“He’s a mess,” Jessica warned. “I flew from England with Lily, she’s the only one he’s letting down the walls for right now. I feel so freaking helpless.”

“All the more reason,” said Alex gently. “He’s my best friend…I’m going to do whatever it takes.”

“I’m with you,” said Jessica decisively, wiping her eyes once more. “Whatever it takes. Can I just do one more thing before we call a cab?”

“Hmm? What’s that?” asked Alex, toying with her slender fingers the way he used to all those years ago. And she kissed him again, pouring all the grief into the one thing that made her feel very much alive right now. Everything seemed to have turned upside down but it was comforting to know that love always remained.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10358158/1/Your-Love-Is-A-Song

#one tree hill #oth #fanfiction #prompt response #clay and sara #clara #ocs #robert buckley #emmy rossum #milo ventimiglia #amanda schull #love #tragedy #friendship #romance #clay evans #rina rambles

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angstyaches · 3 years

Note

em here

I don't want to request anything you have in your askbox already haha so how about some really pukey and sick felix with worried elli? maybe it starts in the car and they think it's carsickness but it turns out to be worse than that?

Here you go, Em! It made me so happy to get a request for these two before I take a break, so thank you! It gets a little angsty, but everything turns out okay.

CW: emeto, sickness, fever, slight confusion, panic attack/anxiety with physical symptoms

___

“This is the last time,” Elliott insisted.

Felix jumped as Elliott raised his voice. He hadn’t realised that he’d been out of it until he forced himself to focus on what his boyfriend was saying.

“It’s the absolute, very last time I’m driving to this place until the actual night of the party,” Elliott muttered, glancing half-heartedly into the side mirror before switching lanes. “Lord, but Nancy’s been dumping these appointments on us left, right, and centre, and I’m sick of it. What if we’d had plans today?”

“Well, we didn’t, darling,” Felix said softly. “And whatever it is, I’m sure Nancy had a decent reason this time.”

“Sorry, boo. I wish I was as good as you are, at assuming the best in people.” Elliott rested a hand on Felix’s knee while the other held the steering wheel. Excitement was lighting up his face, after he’d spent the last ten minutes frowning. “You and I – we should plan something. Something nice, for when the party-planning fiasco’s blown over. What do you think, boo? Anywhere you’ve been dying to go?”

His optimistic mood, and the mention of travel, should have lifted Felix’s spirits too, but all it did was make him a bit starry-eyed. He stared at Elliott, mesmerised by the dimples that seemed prodded into his cheeks by invisible fingers.

He realised that Elliott was waiting for him to respond, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. Could barely think at all. His head had felt like a spinning top since they’d gotten in the car, and there was a heaviness in his bones that he could no longer convince himself was just from tiredness.

If only a fraction of his discomfort and confusion was showing on his face, then it was no wonder the excited look fell from Elliott’s face.

“Are you alright, Fee?”

Felix gave a short, mirthless laugh. “Do I look as dreadful as I feel?”

“Well, don’t bite me, but – yes, I would say so,” Elliott replied, stealing a few more quick glances as he tried to focus on the road too. “Is it motion sickness?”

“Oh, gosh, maybe.” Felix rubbed a hand across his stomach. It definitely felt a little unsettled, now that he thought about it. He’d be relieved if that was all this turned out to be. “I – I shouldn’t be feeling this bad sitting in the front, but yeah.”

“What did you eat this morning?”

“Not much, just some toast. I wasn’t very hungry when I woke up.” He began to shake his head and lean forward in his seat, rubbing at the sides of his face. Thinking about food – even bland food like toast and butter – was making him feel nauseous. Come to think of it, he’d had a glass of apple juice too, the acidic taste of which was starting to wash back up into his mouth. “Gosh, Elli, I think – I think I need to get out.”

“There’s a rest stop in two minutes, boo, if you can wait that long.”

Felix gave a short grunt of agreement, keeping his head down in his hands and trying to take long, steady breaths. He tried to let up a couple of burps too, which usually helped a lot when his stomach didn’t feel right, but this didn’t feel like nausea brought on by external factors. The more he let himself feel it, the more he realised that there was a deep-set pain in his belly, like all of his organs and muscles were knotting together. The burps were forced – thick with the taste of the apple juice – and not relieving at all.

He was definitely going to have to bring up something other than gas.

“We’re here, boo,” Elliott said, jerking the car slightly as he rushed to park it. “We’re right beside the toilet area, if you need to run –”

Felix was already reaching for his seatbelt and the door handle at the same time. His body swayed a bit as he stepped out onto the time-beaten tarmac, and the faint overcast sky made his head feel even lighter. His thoughts kept floating away; he knew he was supposed to be doing something, but what was it?

“Hey, Fee?” Elliott appeared in front of him and put his hands on either side of his face.

Felix blinked and tried to focus on his boyfriend’s face, his eyes. Oh right, he remembered, feeling a tight cramp shove its way up from the pit of his stomach. He was supposed to be throwing up by now.

He held his own hands to his mouth and shook himself free of Elliott’s. The urge to vomit was steady and slow-burning at first, but he picked up the pace alongside it. The closer he got to the bathrooms, the further up his throat the nausea crawled.

Elliott rushed after his boyfriend once he’d shoved the passenger side door shut. He heard a violent retch as he pushed through the door, followed by an echoing cough. Felix had made it into a cubicle, but there was a short trail of sick on the floor where the show had clearly started the show before being in position.

“Aw, Fee,” Elliott murmured. He laid a hand on Felix’s back, mostly to let him know he was there.

Felix groaned as thick chunks of bread soaked in apple juice coursed up his throat, and he coughed harshly over the mess it made in the toilet bowl and on the seat.

“Made – made a mess,” he whined, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth as he managed to come up for air.

“Boo, I’m sure this dump has seen worse,” Elliott said with a frown. He hated that Felix fixated on unnecessary, irrelevant details while he was sick, instead of just focusing on doing whatever he needed to feel better. He scratched his back lightly. “Are you okay?”

The next sound out of Felix was a pinched sob. “No,” he choked out. “Can – can you clean the floor, darling? I’m sorry, I’d do it myself, I just –”

Elliott flinched back as Felix doubled right over, ejecting another thick wave of sick into the toilet bowl. He clenched his jaw and did as the boy requested, pulling wads of paper towels from the dispenser and mopping up the small amount of sick that had gotten on the floor. He tossed it all in the bin by the doorway. As he turned back to check on his boyfriend, he wondered at the fact that nobody had left or entered since they’d gone in, but maybe other travellers knew how dingy the toilets were, and avoided them like the plague.

“Are you okay, gorgeous?” Elliott asked again, reaching for Felix’s waist as the smaller boy flushed the toilet and turned towards him. He was trembling slightly, and Elliott wondered if he was running a fever; his own body temperature had been so messed up lately that he didn’t trust his own judgment.

“No,” Felix admitted a second time, whimpering against Elliott’s chest before lifting his head again. His eyes seemed unable to focus on Elliott’s. “I – I’m sure it’s just really bad motion sickness. I just… just need a minute to recover...”

“Seriously, boo,” Elliott sighed, putting his hand on the back of Felix’s head. “I think you’re going to need about a day to recover. I’ll bet you and Nancy are down with the same bug or something, and that’s why she didn’t want to leave the house today.”

“You – you think?” Felix rubbed his hands over his belly, as though he could somehow feel out whether that guess was correct or not. “Gosh, could that happen?”

“If it could happen to a witch like Nancy, it could definitely happen to you, Fee,” Elliott said with a sympathetic grimace. Both Felix and Nancy had stomachs as weak as kittens, but Elliott didn’t particularly feel like bullying his sick boyfriend with that analogy right then. Plus, he’d already used up his don’t bite me for the day.

Felix might not have even noticed if Elliott had chosen to tease him, because now that the panic of vomiting had passed, his head was starting to feel like it was detaching itself from his body like a rocket into space. He groaned lowly as Elliott wrapped his arms around him and led him back out to the car.

“I’ll just be a minute,” Elliott said, after settling him in the passenger seat. He rubbed his boyfriend’s back as Felix folded his arms on the dash and buried his head between them. “I’m going to run into the shop and get you something fizzy to sip on.”

Felix flinched as the door closed next to him, his stomach sloshing along with the gentle rocking of the car. He felt what he thought was a sob push its way up from his chest, but what came out of his mouth was a deep, nauseated burp that brought a very bad taste to his mouth. It wasn’t of apple juice anymore either; whatever was wrong with him, it was bringing up whatever remained of last night’s dinner, too. He couldn’t even remember what that was, and as soon as he tried to even think about food again, his stomach heaved.

“Oh no,” he mumbled thickly, lifting his head and reaching for the door handle.

He managed to swing his legs out of the seat and lean forward, his head almost between his knees, before even more thick, sloshy liquid gushed out of him. His head was practically between his knees as the sick splashed over the ground. Felix was worried about getting it on his shoes, but his vision was so full of stars that he ended up closing his eyes, gripping the edge of his seat with one hand and the handle of the door with the other, and trying not to fall out into his own sick.

As soon as he was sure his stomach had settled a bit, Felix leaned back and pulled his feet up to the seat. He rested his chin on his knees, still slumped sideways and facing towards the open door. Just in case. He probably looked ridiculous to anyone who passed by, and he was sure there was a rest stop employee somewhere who would later despise him for throwing up in a car parking spot, but Felix couldn’t bring himself to care.

It felt as though a huge chasm were opening up in his chest and he didn’t know why, or how to stop it. He just tried to hold himself in one piece until Elliott made it back.

“Aw, Fee, are you alright?” Elliott asked softly when he reappeared, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Felix blinked, barely able to open his eyes for the stabbing light of the overhead clouds. His throat felt like it was on fire as he struggled to form words. His eyes were watering, presumably from the effort of heaving up everything in his system; though that certainty started to fade as he nuzzled his cheek against Elliott’s hand and frowned.

“Elli, I… I want my mum.”

The bottle of lemon-and-lime almost slipped out of Elliott’s hand, and he leapt to catch it before it could fall into the new puddle of sick and roll under the car. He stared at his boyfriend’s face as his eyes fell shut again.

“What – Felix?” he whispered, more to himself than anything. For almost a decade, Felix had never said anything like that; he never even wanted to talk about his mother, or any members of his previous family. Elliott had come to accept that it was a part of his life that he just didn’t want to drag into this life, and that was that.

“Fee?” Elliott asked.

Felix didn’t seem to want to respond.

Elliott carefully held his slumped head against his chest as he pulled the boy’s jacket off, hoping it would stop his fever crawling up. Then Elliott tucked the loose plastic bag he’d gotten in the shop into the footwell and rounded the car to the driver’s seat. He unscrewed the bottle of fizz and helped his boyfriend, whose hands were too shaky and whose eyes were too unfocused, take a couple of sips, all the while brushing flecks of mint-green hair back from his face.

Felix leaned into Elliott’s touch again and let out a pitiful whimper.

“You’re okay, gorgeous,” Elliott whispered. “Luckily we’re only about fifteen minutes from home, so I just need you to hang in there a little longer. There’s a bag by your feet, if you’re going to be sick again.”

Felix gave a weak nod of his head against Elliott’s palm.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Fee.” Elliott frowned at the sound of his own voice tapering off into a low sob. “I’m sorry you’re… I’m sorry you’re not with her. I… I did that, I kept you from...”

The sight of Felix’s already-closed eyes scrunching up slightly made Elliott’s stomach twist. What was he thinking, rambling on like this when he should have been focusing on getting Felix back home?

Elliott tried to keep his hands from shaking long enough to get Felix’s seatbelt on. He also rolled up Felix’s jacket into a makeshift pillow for him to use against the door until they got home.

“I love you,” he said. “I’m going to make sure you’re okay.”

Felix murmured incoherently as he lay against the door, hugging his arms tightly to his sick belly. Elliott ran a hand across his faded mint hair, tucking the heaviest of his bangs behind his ear so that they didn’t stick to his forehead.

His own head was spinning as he turned towards the steering wheel. There was a weight on his chest, like a dark cloud full of rain. He unscrewed Felix’s drink and took a couple of sips himself; his body would most definitely reject it if he took in too much sugar and chemicals, but his mouth was suddenly so dry that it seemed worth the risk.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. He had to get Felix home.

___

In the end, Elliott barely remembered a thing from the moment he started the ignition at the pit stop, to the moment he turned it off in the townhouse garage. His hands leapt back from the steering wheel, as though he’d just watched it come to life by itself. The ends of his fingertips, along with his feet, tingled as though they weren’t getting enough blood, despite the fact that his heart was in a throbbing frenzy.

He was brought back to reality by a gentle moan from the other side of the car.

“Fuck,” Elliott whispered, turning to undo his boyfriend’s seatbelt. Whatever had just happened, he’d have to deal with it later, once he’d sorted Felix out.

“Elli? I don’t feel good,” Felix grumbled as he sat up slightly. The empty plastic bag rustled as he clutched it in his right hand; Elliott hadn’t even seen him lean over to grab it from the floor. The poor boy was holding his belly with his other hand, and now that he’d been asleep for a little while, his eyes looked like they’d sunk into his face.

“As though I need telling, boo,” Elliott sighed, stroking Felix’s cheek and watching his eyelashes flutter aimlessly at the cold touch. “Let’s get you inside, okay? Then I’ll – I’ll get Ryan and see if she knows what’s going on with you.”

___

Felix belched weakly over the empty basin that he was practically spooning in bed. His arm barely had enough strength to keep him up on his side, but he didn’t dare lie back down until his belly had stopped churning. When his cheek finally sank into the cool surface of the pillow, Felix let his eyes fall shut, though he kept a hand on the side of the basin so he’d know where it was if he needed it.

The bedroom door opened and Elliott came in, carrying water and a thermometer and a few packets of medicine.

“I’m officially a detective,” he sighed. He sat at the edge of the bed and rested a hand gently on Felix’s shoulder. “Nancy’s got the same thing, so I guess you’re both gonna have to just ride it out.”

Felix looked up from behind the basin, peering at his boyfriend’s face. Even though he felt like death – not literally, as he was aware of what actual death felt like – he could tell something wasn’t right with Elliott either. Ever since they’d gotten home, and the fog in Felix’s brain started lifting, Elliott had seemed oddly shaky, breathing a little raggedly.

“Are – are you okay, darling?” Felix’s throat felt raw from the bile that had been surging up repeatedly for the past hour.

“Me?” Elliott’s dark eyelashes fluttered in surprise. He shifted the basin to the floor so he could sit a little closer to Felix. “You’re - you’re worried about me, boo?”

Felix nodded weakly as Elliott brushed a gentle thumb against his cheek. His whole body felt like it was being pulled down into quicksand; thankfully, Elliott’s touch was enough to let him know that he was still just there, on the solid mattress.

“You’re so sweet, and I’m glad you’re a little more with-it now,” Elliott said, “but I’m fine. I’m almost full-vamp like Ryan, so I don’t think I can catch this.”

“Mmm.” Felix sighed, closing his eyes so that all he could focus on was the motion of Elliott’s fingers. He let out a deep sigh, the grumbling in his gut finally settling down a little. Still, he wrapped his arms around his waist and curled up protectively around his sick belly.

Elliott continued tracing circles into Felix’s neck and down his back. Dark feelings swirled in his chest as he watched his nauseous boyfriend shiver slightly in his semi-conscious state, whimpering and curling a little more tightly around his stomach. Elliott’s heart was like a battering ram on his ribs until Felix’s face became temporarily peaceful.

“I love you,” he whispered, not because he thought Felix would hear him; he said it because it made the fear a little easier to cope with. The last thing he expected was to hear Felix whisper it back, albeit with a weak hand rising up to cover his mouth.

“Love you so much, darling...” Felix burped behind his palm, his eyes still closed. “But can you get me the basin again?”

#emeto #emeto sickfic #sickfic #sickfic boys #my ocs #emetophilia #stomach bug #angst #anxiety #panic attack #vampire emeto #Felix and Elliott #request

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