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f1crecs · 10 months

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Fic Rec List - Charles/Pierre (Rated E)

If your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and I will remove it immediately, no questions asked. I have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop me a message🤍

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your wish is my command, ladies. 😘 fics highlighted in purple contain the 'super hung' content you were hoping for, @welightitup 😉❤️ all of these fics are nsfw. please check tags before you read.

this list doesn't contain even half of the fics I wanted to share. there will be a part two.

too far into the waters to float by @hungerpunch | E | 2k Charles and Pierre rendezvous after FP2. As well as being insanely hot, there is also a trust and a closeness here between these two that just feels so true, and so beautifully written. I love the way this author writes dialogue - it is always such a pleasure to read.

'He focuses on the mole under Charles' right eye, the one that kisses his undereye circles when he’s tired enough. And today, he’s tired enough. This is not il predestinato. This is just some guy. Some guy who is Pierre’s best friend, fatigued but red-blooded and eager for it—at least enough to send a text asking for it—and it's hot as fuck.'

darkest little paradise by heroics | E | 2k Charles and Pierre celebrate after Pierre's maiden win. Their dynamic here is some of my favourite Pierre/Charles in the whole fandom. They know each other inside and out, and know exactly what buttons to press, how far to take things, and what the other needs. The emotions here are just gorgeous. I loved every second of this.

'Pierre’s always been steady, reliable, happy for all of Charles’s successes. It’s a good thing he’s won today: anyone else and Charles would be livid. Monza is his to win; he deserves to be loved here.'

backseat freestyle by @grandprix-ao3 | E | 2.8k I have no way to summarise this that isn't going to get my blog flagged for mature content - please just read it! This author is an insta-rec for me. No one does sexual tension quite like they do. The imagery here is also absolutely stunning. I cannot recommend this one enough.

'It’d been a strange sensation to get used to; the feeling of empty hands, stretched-out patience, gum-thick and soaked in broken-off pleasure where it sits swollen in his chest, like a helium balloon ready to pop.'

in my ribs and under my chest.by @pipitwrites | E | 2.8k Charles and Pierre try something new. This is stunning. The author has a beautiful, almost melodic style, and combined with Pierre and Charles' clear devotion for each other and the insanely hot things they do to each other - this is a work of art. This fic is an ode to Charles' waist, and I loved every single second.

'"I already know what you look like naked," Pierre reminds him with a smirk and Charles flushes at the implication, which is stupid. They've been living out of each other's pockets since they were children, before Charles had ever considered what it might be like to be wrapped up in Pierre.'

Casabianca by @francophonesfictions | E | 3.1k Charles has had a bad day - they meet in a locker room. This fic made me insane. You can tell that they are just completely crazy about each other. This is blisteringly hot, and cut through with moments of just sheer literary genius. Gorgeous.

'Pierre is stubborn by default and relentless when he smells weakness, and Charles is one big weak spot where Pierre is concerned.'

all of me, all of me by @hourcat | E | 3.1k Charles and Pierre are reunited after two weeks apart. If you look up the word 'tenderhorny' in the dictionary, you'll find the entirety of this fic. This author is fantastic at balancing mind-blowing heat with honey sweet moments, and it results in just the most gorgeous fics. This author is another insta-rec for me.

'In truth, it's been maybe two weeks tops; it's an eternity, though, for the two of them, who spend half their season waiting for winter break just so they can get up inside each other without consequence.'

your love is thick and it swallowed me whole by @wolfiemcwolferson | E | 3.3k Pierre sees a photo of himself and Charles that changes everything. The Realisation Moment in this fic stole my breath away, and I'm not sure I returned to normal functioning until I reached the final line. Masterful. The urgency and the tension and the underlying need of it all - no one is doing it like this author.

'Because for just a second - a second - Charles had looked over at Pierre like he could see it. Like he could see the want all over Pierre’s face and if he sees it then...'

a place further by @yekoc | E | 3.9k Charles and Pierre don't fuck during the season. The relationship here is stunning - so easy and light and you can just tell that they are friends before they are lovers. So hot. So funny. So sweet. So well written. A joy!

'When the door stays stubbornly shut, Charles decides to try to pray. Like always, it’s in Italian: faith edged back up on him at Ferrari, but it’s still a half-formed thing, more hope than habit.'

get me with those green eyes, baby by @singsweetmelodies | E | 4.6k Charles and Pierre and Basketball Date 2.0. I love how much fun they have together in this - the flirty banter, the teasing, the absolute ease. This is ridiculously hot, but they are also quite clearly best friends, who know each other by heart. This is tender and sweet and a little bit soulmate-y. Chefs kiss.

'Charles' gaze softens, and a hint of brightest summer green returns to his eyes, a dapple of light against the darkness of desire there. "Always," he whispers, so softly that if Pierre hadn't been leaning right over him, their faces inches apart, he wouldn't have heard him.'

you should think about the consequence (of you touching my hand in the darkened room) by anonymous | E | 4.7k Charles has a business Zoom call - Pierre has other ideas. This is insanely hot. One thing I love about this author's fics is their Pierre characterisation: charming and quick witted and just absolutely besotted with Charles.

'Charles had done his best not to look over his shoulder, even though his every instinct had been screaming at him to do so. Whenever they were in a room together, his whole body instinctively wanted to turn and gravitate to Pierre. He couldn't help it.'

drugstore perfume by @grandprix-ao3 | E | 6.5k Charles stays at Pierre's house, and learns something new. You will need oven gloves (/mitts) to handle this fic. I think this was the first Pierre and Charles fic I ever read, and it restructured my brain in a way that cannot be reversed.

'But he doesn’t shut up; of course, he doesn’t. Perhaps this is something Charles has always known about Pierre, that he doesn’t know how to close his mouth, that he just grins and squints and leans forward against countertops with dewy skin and dangling necklaces like he owns the entire fucking world: like he knows everything he does will make Charles hot under the collar, like he wants to take advantage of it.'

#piarles #charles/pierre #1016 #f1 rpf #pairing:charles/pierre #driver:charles #driver:pierre

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limitlessscion · 10 days

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Minato District, 3:45am

" You're late." He had one of his people intercept the window's signal to buy himself some time, but it would seem every one of those incidental meet-ups held another advancement to Satoru's ever-expanding arsenal. Still, it had sufficed to have Suguru arrive first, this time. Well, between the two of them, at least.

The pile of men around his zori, freshly bruised and quivering like fish on the market stands, were identifiable members of a sorcerer clan. And given the hype around this curse, this could have easily been a foolish set up for the Holy Grail that had become of that bounty. The chain is still spinning in his grip when Suguru spits out someone's ear and kicks the last guy pleading with him, before slipping the weapon back into the spirit's mouth. Even without six eyes one could see the exact moment a horrible thought gleamed in his violets.

" I have to admit, though, the decoy spirit they used to lure you in was not worth the hassle. " Fingers splay before the inventory's mouth, until Playful Cloud settles in his grip. Suguru smirks, grumbling the words. " I'll have to find another way to get off. " He doesn't wait for a response before pouncing — a damned man throwing himself into the abyss, no doubt.

Satoru seemed entirely unbothered by the pile of corpses and corpses-to-be, giving only a brief moment to understand the situation before moving on. People foolish enough to try and take him down were a rare breed, but they did crop up from time to time; he'd already had his suspicions from how odd all the info was. They weren't of interest to him now beyond the fact that none of them were likely to survive the night.

There was always a point when Suguru killed, and something about that was starting to piss him off. Of fucking course Suguru was still protecting him even as he seemed to keep denying Satoru's right to do the same in return.

"You really like making my life difficult, don't you?" Long pale fingers reached under the wrappings around his face, pulling them free to settle in a halo around his shoulders. His uncovered eyes flashed with the bright blue telltales of his technique as his one and only friend lunged at him.

Fine then. If Suguru was going to act the petulant child, then for once Satoru was going to show him some damn consequences.

Satoru blocked the first few hits with ease, sparks flying against infinity as he tested the weight of the blows. He could sense no killing intent —of course there wasn't— but that didn't mean the attacks were being held back either, both sides fully confident that the Strongest Sorcerer simply could not be hit. Playful Cloud amplified raw strength as much as it was amplified in turn, a potent tool in the hands of one as skilled in hand-to-hand as Suguru Geto, the force of even off-hits easily capable of crushing a regular human.

That's all he needed to know.

Satoru made a reckless move, right hand darted in between the flying segments of the weapon to grip his opponent's wrist, immediately locking down tight with cursed energy. It was with the sheer arrogance of one who could not be hit, unbothered by the fact he'd tangled himself and left a large opening that one could never hope to defend conventionally.

Infinity melts away.

Intense blue eyes faded to a dull grey tone at the last fraction of a second and he fixed their gaze together, waiting for the instant of understanding. He needs Suguru to see and feel this, to understand what the fuck he was actually doing.

He doesn't even defend with cursed energy. The cursed tool slams through mortal flesh and bone with such sudden violence that it was like a popping balloon, the damage instantaneous. His iron grip on Suguru's wrist kept him from being blown away, that arm protected and strengthened a second later to keep that connection between them.

The pulp and handful of bone shards that used to be ribs and muscles and lungs and heart became an oozing lump contained only by the ragged cloth of his jacket.

His gaze was still fixated on Suguru's, a feral grin on his face, eyes flaring with the pain, still clear and focused. His whole body sagged at the lost of support, held up only by his continued grip on the other.

The physical agony was nothing, just a mere sliver of what had been inflicted up on him that day in Shinjuku with nothing but words. The endless loneliness. The demands that he kill someone whom he could not kill. Being left behind. The mornings he'd wake up with tears staining his face as dreams of happiness faded away. Suguru just endlessly trying to fuck it up even more.

If Suguru was here to vent his grievances then Satoru would do the same: look at me. I want you to know how much it fucking hurts. I don't need you to regret or apologize, but I need you to understand.

A few seconds or an eternity later, blood started spurting through the remains of his clothes; his heart repaired from a lump of flesh jelly, a single beat drenching Suguru in fresh warm crimson before skin sealed back up. A mere second later his lost arm regrew. Then he was whole again, no sign of the gruesome injuries beyond the bloody mess that was smeared over them both. He'd made one point and now he made his second: Suguru was out of his league in this farcical conflict of theirs.

He spat the gore still stuck in his airways onto the ground between them, eyes still never leaving the other as he finally released his friend.

"Give up Suguru. Go home."

#>> answered #saiakv #gore tw #you know that face he makes when he just walks hanami into a wall turning them into asparagus paste #it's kinda that vibe #i know i promised a domain expansion but things went kinda wild so im cutting it here #v2 >> those waiting to be saved #>> drabbles

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passivenovember · 2 years

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With the blue light from the moon filtering through the leaves that pasted themselves over the windows of Steve’s second story bedroom, Billy could appear and be brought to confessional.

Forgive me, father, for in his arms, his room, his embrace, I am going to sin.

Naked to his waist, bruised, bleeding, for the standing price Billy had to pay just to be here, in his own personal infirmary and place of worship, stitched together again at the hands of his brown-eyed God.

“You got any records?” Billy asked suddenly. His lip was split like the red sea. Swollen with hate and anger and love for Steve, alone, who dropped the alcohol swab and swore under his breath.

“Shit.” Steve dove for it, blowing on the wet parts to get rid of dirt and pubic hair gathered from his carpet. “What?”

“Music. You got anything decent?”

“Don’t talk, I’ve gotta clean your lip--”

“Silence is too loud,” Billy mumbled around the sting of alcohol and Steve’s thumb, where it slipped against the ridges of teeth. “My head’s gonna explode.”

“I’ll fuckin’ say.”

“Need something, Steve. Can’t sit like this.”

“You gonna tell me what happened?” Steve threw the cotton swab into the trash bin, studying Billy’s swollen face. “Why does this keep happening--”

“Wanna smoke?”

Billy dug around in his discarded jean pockets for the split pack of Marlboro’s, tattered cardboard stuffed with half nicotine, half dope. Excellent misdirection. He pinched a joint between two fingers and held it in the air.

An offering. Like lambs and first born sons tied down to ensure his spot in Heaven, in this room, with Steve.

“A little thanks,” Billy said, “For always taking care of me.”

“You don’t really leave me a choice.”

“Yeah, but you’d do it anyway,” Billy tucked the joint between Steve’s lips and sparked it for him, watching with bated breath as Steve’s pretty lips puckered and the cherry caught on fire, and his throat filled with smoke.

Steve watched him, blowing wispy gray through his nose and frowning when Billy clamped down on the good end. “I don’t think you should be smoking right now.”

“Relax, Harrington,” Billy said, stretching his legs as he stood, padding to the stack of records Steve had collecting dust under the window. “What do you wanna listen to?”

“You have a scrape on your thigh--”

“Fleetwood Mac? Gerry Rafferty?”

“--It’s gonna need some Neosporin--”

“Rafferty it is. Good vibes. Something.” Billy tucked the joint against his split lip, hotboxing as he bent over to watch the needle drop on Baker Street.

Immediately, it was perfect. The riffs, the bassline.

Billy let his arms stretch above his head, lips puffing on the joint in time with the beat. Swinging his hips while his feet carried him in a slow, measured circle.

He let himself hum along, at first, and then he was singing. Bright and quiet to the crown molding and the ugly plaid sheets on the bed. To the moon, and the stars, and the leaves outside the window, and to Steve.

Who was crying.

“What?” Billy asked. He took one more hit from the joint, holding it. “You can have--”

Steve shook his head, sobbing thickly into the crook of one elbow, and Billy was a deflated weather balloon. A black hole, collapsing in on himself.

“I can’t keep doing this. Waking me up at three o’clock in the morning every fucking night with broken ribs and split lips and scraped thighs, what the fuck is happening?” Steve stared at him, eyes red-rimmed and crazy. “Who keeps doing this to you?”

“Steve--”

“Tell me who keeps hurting you, baby. Please. Tell me and I’ll--”

“You’ll what? Take your nail bat to his skull?”

Steve hiccupped, seeming to put the pieces together in the wrong order. The picture he saw must have been ugly. Sharp and painful, because he said. “You’re seeing someone.”

Like it was a revelation. Something that made him want to roll a stone over the entrance to his heart, sealing it off, and. Billy sat carefully in front of him. Scooting until their knees knocked.

Steve was crying again. He let Billy touch him, anyway. Waist to neck to cheeks, bringing their eyes together. “I’m not seeing anyone, Steve.”

His eyes lit up. Billy caught on fire. “You’re not--”

“No.”

“Then,” Steve held Billy’s hands to his face. “Then who’s hurting you?”

Billy wanted to say it. Felt the words push their way up the back of his throat, like bile until Billy wanted to kneel at the alter and confess his sins.

He knew that, no matter what, Steve would love him. So Billy said, “I love you.”

Because he really meant Amen.

And Hallelujah.

And thank you.

Steve kissed the inside of Billy’s wrist, so Billy said, “Would you dance with me?” Full of desire to worship.

they’re listening to: Right Down the Line by Gerry Rafferty

https://youtu.be/YzSXSo3dTHU

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #cw: abuse #hurt/comfort #lmaoooooo idk what this is!

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there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years

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Night Crawling

Sam x Reader

Word Count: ~3350

Warnings: Some explicit smutty goodness in a dive bar bathroom, some recreational drug use, some Sam feels.

A/N: I really thought I was going to write PWP for once. As usual, some feels snuck in. Set at some vague point in Season 5.

I’ve had the new Miley Cyrus album on repeat all day; inspiration, title, and bathroom graffiti quote all came from “Night Crawling.” Listen to that and “Gimme What I Want” if you want maximum ~atmosphere~ or whatever while reading.

“Another?” Sam asks, leaning in to make himself heard over the music. He gives me a twisted, wicked version of his usual dimpled smile. There’s a drop of tequila clinging to his lip, and I want to lick it off. He’s so close.

My head is still spinning from the last shot and from his attention. I shake it off.

“Bathroom, I’ll be back,” I tell him.

Sam’s in a fucking mood tonight. Not that I blame him. Time is ticking away, faster by the day it feels like; if Lucifer was after me, I’d take whatever escape I could get.

Dean’s at the motel, hopefully putting some ice on his twisted ankle or maybe sleeping, and normally Sam would be fussing over him like an overgrown fucking mother hen. Instead, he suggested that we go “blow off some steam,” looking at me with this glint in his eyes, like he was daring me.

So… here we are, getting fucked up in a grimy rock club, watching some Nine Inch Nails wannabes wail like a porn soundtrack over a dirty industrial bassline.

Sam fucking Winchester. Always full of surprises.

It’s one of those single-occupancy dive bathrooms where I don’t want to touch anything or, like, inhale too hard. It’s impossible to tell what color the walls originally were under the layers of concert flyers and graffiti. There’s probably enough cocaine residue on the chipped porcelain sink counter to get an elephant high. That kind of place.

He wants me almost as much as I want him, I’m pretty sure, but I never thought either of us would act on it. Too many complications, too many ways to fuck it all up… now, though? The entire world is fucked. Might as well get laid before it all goes to shit.

Two lines of red Sharpie scrawl next to the mirror grab my attention: night crawling, sky falling, gotta listen when the Devil’s calling.

Yeah. Well.

I don’t think either of us will make it out of this alive, but he doesn’t want to. That’s what this is all about, really. He started this apocalypse. He’ll never forgive himself if he lives through it. I’ll never forgive him if he doesn’t.

I wash my hands and splash some water on my cheeks, bracing myself. I can feel the chemicals kicking up my spine, now.

If Sam fucking Winchester needs to indulge his self-destructive streak and get out of his head for a night, I’ll keep him company. Fuck knows I’ll never say no to him. I’ll stay with him til the end, if he lets me.

It hits me again: this is the end. The world is about to end, and that sweet, sexy, puppy-eyed motherfucker out there is at the center of all of it. Heaven, hell, good, evil… and Sam. If tonight is what we’ve got — if this is all we’ll ever get — I’ll take it. I’ve always wanted more, but… this’ll do. It’ll have to do.

He’s slouching against the wall, right outside the bathroom hallway. He gives me this dark, hungry grin when he sees me, and maybe whatever was in that pastel blue pill is making itself known, or maybe it’s just Sam that’s sending a wave of prickly heat over my skin… either way, it feels good.

“C’mon,” he says, passing me a cup of ice water, and then he’s gripping me by the wrist, pulling me into the crowd.

Sam doesn’t dance, and he sure as hell doesn’t dance with me, but he’s not fucking around: hands on my waist, hair falling in his eyes as he looks down at me, cheeks flushed, moving with the beat. I rest my free hand on his upper arm, right where the swell of his bicep flexes against the soft cotton sleeve of his t-shirt, and I can’t help but squeeze slightly, feeling hot skin and muscle under my palm. I swallow hard.

Sam leans in closer. I can smell him, the natural scent of his sweat under the spice of his deodorant, and it’s so overwhelming that I shiver.

He gets his lips right up against my ear, the deep rumble of his voice a physical thing that I can feel as well as hear: “Ever just get sick of being yourself?”

Jesus.

“Yeah,” I mumble, mouth dry. I don’t know if he hears me but it doesn’t really matter.

“I think too much. I don’t want to think tonight. Is that okay?”

I suck in a breath. “Don’t need to explain, Sam. I get it.”

“Yeah?” he asks, heavy-lidded, golden skin shining with sweat in the flecks of light coming off the disco ball. “Dance with me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, Sam, anything you want.”

I toss back the cup of water, gulping it down, too eager; some of it trickles down my chin. I don’t care. I drop the cup and run my hand up Sam’s chest. His eyes flutter closed and he licks his lips, sinful, gorgeous. For a moment I think he might say something but instead he spins me around and hauls me closer, my back to his chest.

The song is filthy, all thudding funk hooks and wild drums. There’s this frantic heat behind it that has me sinking under the surface, swimming through the riff, and the pulse of it wriggles down my spine and works itself out through my hips as I toss my head. It’s the kind of rhythm that’s made for sweating all over a stranger.

Sam might as fucking well be a stranger right now. I never knew he could move like this.

His hips swivel and twist, and his hands slide down to my thighs, pinning me against the solid muscled heat of his body. I feel reckless. I feel high and overstimulated and utterly fearless, and I can feel his touch echoing through me, inside me, throbbing down my belly to where I’m empty and suddenly aching.

As soon as I think about it, the emptiness hits me hard. My cunt is clenching around nothing in time with the gritty slap of percussion. I arch my back and rub myself against Sam shamelessly.

He’s hard against my ass, hard and getting harder with every shrieking lick of guitar, and the awareness of it sends a thrill down through the core of me, like a bolt of lightning striking between my legs. My breath catches and hisses out of my lungs like I’m a punctured balloon. I feel dizzy.

It’s all so intense right now. Every inch of my skin is fizzing, and the simple curl of his fingers around my wrist has me shuddering like he’s stroking something much more intimate.

On any other night I would try to step back, to get myself under control… I’d start thinking, and I wouldn’t be able to stop, and I’d get stuck in my head instead of giving in to the mind-blowingly intimate thrill of his fingertips pressing into my pulse.

We’re not thinking tonight. I couldn’t think straight even if I wanted to.

The beat changes, segueing into something low and slinking and goddamn obscene. I’m dripping with sweat — mine or Sam’s? I can’t tell — and my skin is on fire, and I want Sam in this awful, all-consuming way that I’ve never wanted anything or anyone.

So I don’t think about it; I just turn, twisting in his arms until we’re face to face, or rather, face to chest. He’s biting his lip, expression almost pained as he grips my waist and slots a thigh between mine. I snake my arms around his neck and roll my hips, feeling the seam of my jeans dragging up the sensitive spot between my legs, and I’m absurdly grateful for the way the music drowns out any embarrassing noise I might make.

There’s a drop of sweat sliding down the corded muscle of his neck. It trickles to a glittering halt right at eye level, in the hollow of his throat, and I can see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. I could fall down and worship whatever god invented the v-neck.

I don’t fall to my knees, but I do lean forward and taste his skin. Salt floods my tongue.

Sam’s hand runs up my back, cups the nape of my neck, and he doesn’t so much guide me as yank, tilting my head to meet the rough urgent sting of his teeth and the soft slide of his tongue. I groan into his mouth, and his hands flatten at the small of my back, pulling me impossibly closer. I want to shove myself against him until I can burrow under his skin.

His mouth. He nips and sucks and explores, lips on mine with crushing force one second, whisper-sweet the next.

I’m melting. I must be melting.

I hold on for dear life, delirious, drunk on the way he’s kissing me. I’ve imagined this before, but I never imagined it like this.

We’re still dancing, or something like it anyway; his hips swivel, and I rut against him, my entire body throbbing with animalistic need. Sam shifts his weight, grinding against me, and I can feel the fat stiff length of him right up against my center. I whimper, desperate and wanton.

One hand slides up my back, around my ribs, up, until he can trace the curve of my breast with his thumb and then pinch my nipple through my bra. When I buck against him, he does it again. My knees don’t want to support me any more.

I’m a half-second away from coming just like this. I’m shaking.

“The fuck are we doing?” Sam says roughly. He nips my earlobe.

“Not thinking, remember?” I snap, and then I’m stumbling back, almost falling, tugging him by the wrist as I start to weave through the crushing press of bodies. My heart is pounding. Everything blurs together. My skin feels too cold without him all over it.

There’s one open bathroom, no line, no reason to hesitate. The heavy door closes behind us and the deadbolt slides home with a metallic echoing thud.

He’s already crowding me back, hands on my cheeks, tip of his nose brushing mine. I grab at the front of his shirt, fingers twisting in the sweat-damp fabric. My ass hits the counter and I surge up clumsily to kiss him. The angle’s off; our teeth clack together.

We laugh and fit ourselves back together, bodies like puzzle pieces in that fucking song Sam would never admit he loves, and I could cry with relief at the way he feels under my hands. I can feel him breathing, the harsh rise and fall of his chest, and I can feel the heat of him, blood and sweat and bone, solid and real and here and mine, at least for tonight.

He fumbles with the button of my jeans and kisses me like he’s drowning. Then he curls two long fingers up and into me, grinding the heel of his hand against my clit. I lean back, heels skidding on the dirty tile as I try to brace myself and rock my hips up all at once.

“Need you to fuck me,” I bite out, remarkably steady considering the way I’m trembling.

“You gonna regret this tomorrow?” Sam asks. He twists his fingers, knuckles stretching me open, so good my eyes roll back in my head.

Tomorrow… we’re not going to think about tomorrow.

“Might regret waiting this long,” I groan. Understatement of the century.

“You ‘n me both. You sure?” He’s staring down at me and he looks wrecked: pupils blown, lips swollen, hair clinging to his temples where his skin is streaked with sweat.

“Do you feel how close I am?” I grab his wrist with one hand, holding him there, fucking myself on his fingers as I try to pull my jeans down with the other hand.

Sam’s mouth drops open and his eyes go unfocused for a second. Whatever self-control he had left is gone. He pulls his hand away, and I whine at the loss, but together we get my pants down, and I kick them off as he gets his belt open. He’s just as big as I always imagined, proportional to those sinfully long elegant fingers, and my mouth fucking waters as I watch him stroke himself.

He bites his lip, chest heaving, and tugs me up onto the very edge of the grimy sink counter. Before I can find my balance he’s right there, hooking an arm under my knee so that he can spread my legs wider, and he’s guiding the hot velvety head of his cock down my center and in, and the slick blunt pressure of it makes me claw at his back, trying to get him closer even though I can barely handle how good that first thick inch feels.

“Fuuu - unnhhhhh - fuck, Sam, I need…” I choke out, and then all I can do is pant breathlessly, incoherent, as he rocks his hips and starts to stretch me open. I’m helpless like this, no leverage to do anything but sit there and take it, and he moves so maddeningly slow that I’m going out of my skull.

“God, look at you,” he breathes. “So fucking good. Always wondered what you’d look like taking my cock. Always imagined you begging. Are you gonna beg for me?”

“If you don’t shut the fuck up and give it to me, Sam, I swear —”

“Yeah?” he growls. He grips my hips hard enough to bruise.

I wrap my legs around his waist, hooking my ankles together, leaning back on my hands, and then I can arch my back and pull him deeper, working myself onto his cock.

“Sam —” I start, but before I can say anything else he slams home, grinding in hard and fast, and my voice cracks on a stuttering, incoherent whine. It’s blindingly good. He’s steely-hard and so goddamn thick I feel like I’m about to split open, like one wrong move is going to pull me apart. His first rolling thrust sparks this wrenching wave of pressure that fills me up and shakes me down to the tips of my toes, my entire body rippling with feverish heat.

“That’s my girl,” he pants. He pulls me against him and twists up, rough and filthy, and I shudder against him, writhing, mindless and overwhelmed.

“Sam,” I choke out. My voice is high-pitched and squeaky-thin, and the next sharp thrust makes me forget whatever I was going to say beyond, “Nnnnhhhhhyesohgod.”

“There?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

He moans, low and broken, and finds that perfect spot again, grinding into it with eye-popping force.

I can feel it, pleasure cramping through me with every movement, coiling up, building around the deep throbbing ache where he’s fucking into me. I feel like a wild animal, primal and lost.

“Good girl. Fuck, feels so good.”

I clutch at his shoulders, muscles quaking, burying my face in his neck as all that white-hot pressure peaks inside me. I let out an ugly, anguished sob, can’t hold it back, and then all I can feel is the all-consuming spasm of my orgasm, tension rocketing through every inch of me, sending me out into space for a long paralyzed moment. The first pulse of it is so scary-intense that I can’t breathe, can’t control myself, can’t keep track of my own body…

Then it all comes back at once, and I’m exquisitely aware of Sam against me as he fucks me through it, hips surging forward as I squeeze around him and urge him deeper.

“Thought about this so many times,” he’s confessing, ragged and raw.

“Me too,” I gasp.

He sucks in a shaky breath, moving slower as I start to come down, and I can feel him holding back now. “Think about you so fucking much, I can’t —”

“Me fucking too, Sam.”

He kisses me, gentle in a way that could very easily destroy me.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to go,” he whispers, forehead sweaty where it rests against mine.

“Fuck, Sam, don’t — this is —”

I feel so strange and strung-out, caught between the shivery aftershocks in my belly and the startling tenderness in his voice as he mumbles, “Wanted to take my time.”

“Sam.”

“Wanted to take my time with you,” he repeats. He moves against me with this slow, snakelike undulation. “Wanted to lay you out and kiss you everywhere and fucking worship you.”

“We can. We can — I want that.”

“Never gonna be enough,” he chokes out. “I knew — I knew, if I did this, I’d never want to stop.”

My skin is lit up with the feel of him, liquid heat gathering in my gut as my body responds to every perfect touch, but I’m afraid my ribcage is about to split open with the way my heart is hammering.

We’re in a goddamn dive bar bathroom, for fuck’s sake, and I’m fucked up, and maybe this will feel cheap and tawdry and silly in the morning, but… somehow I don’t think it will. Somehow this feels like the most important thing that’s ever happened to me.

“Why’d we wait this long?” I ask. There’s an embarrassing wobble in my voice.

“Because I’m a fucking idiot,” he grits out. “Because I was scared.” Before I can respond, he kisses me, all teeth and desperation, twisting his hips and swallowing my moan. He slides his hands under my shirt, sliding them up my back, and drags his fingernails down in trails of stinging heat. It’s pleasure and pain and fucking obliteration, and the sensory overload has me spiraling out again.

“Fuck that,” I half-laugh. My back arches and my voice breaks, and I bite his lip hard enough that I taste copper.

He groans, full-throated and shameless, and ducks his head, sinking his teeth into the sweat-slick curve of my neck. He sucks, nibbles, and it sets off fireworks behind my eyelids.

“Close, Sam. So close,” I babble, breathing harsh and heavy. I tangle my fingers in his hair and pull, and I can feel him moan. “Never thought it’d feel like this. It’s — this is so much better —”

He shudders against me, lets out this long, guttural sound, and then he shifts and pounds into me harder, and all I can do is cling to him, pulling him closer like I’m never going to let go. “C’mon, then. Fuck. Tell me what you want.”

“Please, Sam. Just — please. Please.”

“I’d do anything for you,” he growls. “You know that, right?”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Don’t leave me,” I blurt out, as the unbearable tension starts to crest. “Don’t leave me, Sam. Please.”

I know he hears it. He gasps like I punched him. I can feel him jerk, twitch, fingers clawing at my back, cock twitching and swelling inside me as he starts to come. I bite down on the meat of his shoulder as I let go. My orgasm feels like it’s ripping something loose, an earthquake in my core, and I don’t trust myself not to say exactly what’s on my mind. There’s a surge of pleasure, one glowing wave of it then another, and I’m dimly aware of shuddering against Sam as he rocks into me one more time, clutching him close… as if I could get close enough to keep him here with me.

It’s impossible to be sad right now. I’m chemically incapable of sadness, still soaring high, but this is so much bigger than sadness anyway. I just feel like I’m about to break.

“That,” he says, with an ugly sound, half-laugh, half-sob. “That’s what I was afraid of. That I wouldn’t ever want to leave.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Let’s just — let’s not think about it. Okay? Can we go back to the motel and — can we do that again? Take our time?”

“Just for tonight?” he asks raggedly.

“Just for tonight. We’re not going to think about what comes next.”

He nods. We both know it’s a lie.

#sam winchester smut #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader smut #supernatural #spn fic

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enby-lee · 2 years

Text

Lesson not learned.

IMPORTANT: This is a tickle Fic. Don't like, don't read.

Summary: Vic pranks Camilo and he gets revenge by tickling them.

Warnings: tickling?? otherwise none.

Vic is my Encanto Oc with my name because I suck at naming, he also goes by he/they.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Vic ran as fast as their legs could carry them to the Casita.

He ignored the weird stares and whispers from people they passed.

They made a huge mistake.

And what was the mistake, you may ask?

He threw a water balloon at Camilo while he was entraintaning some kids and he was sure he was gonna wreck him for that.

Even worse, it happened right before their family's chores ended a few minutes ago.

He was pretty sure he was on his tail, chasing him down. Camilo was always one for the chase…

only because he's agile and can catch his lee easily. As far as they know, they had a head start.

They would never admit it to anyone, even if his whole family already knew it, but he loves being tickled. It brings them butterflies to his stomach.

Plus a chase made it much more fun!

He finally reached the doors of casita, quickly slipping in and taking a mental note that they and Camilo were the last to finish their chores.

He wanted to grab an arepa but they, however, didn't know how far Camilo was from catching up on him, so he decided against that and quickly ran to hide somewhere.

Soon enough Camilo appeared at the doorstep, his clothes and hair were wet as droplets of water fell from them. He was a bit out of breath as well but he decided he'd first catch his little sibling before changing.

Or well, he wanted to but his mamá and abuela sent him to go change first anyway.

Guess he'd let them live a bit longer.

Vic knew hiding under the table was the most stupid idea they had yet, but it was the only spot where he could get an arepa too.

More lucky for him, the kitchen was empty as well!

He heard Camilo get scolded by Pepa and Abuela, which probably meant they had more time to either wait or hide but he didn't want to risk it.

Few minutes passed and Vic was getting bored.

Seemingly Camilo got bored of the chase and decided not to tickle him.

They shrugged and crawled from under the table, walking out from the kitchen when suddenly they got spun around into a hug from behind.

"Gotcha!~"

He squeaked as he felt Camilo's hands squeeze their hips and burst into immediate giggles as they squirmed with little to no chance of escape.

"'Milo, wahahit!" Vic managed to let out, letting out a squeal.

Camilo didn't stay in one spot, hed squeeze their hips making them hiccup with giggles before he'd wiggle his fingers into their other side and then he'd switch. His hands found their way under his shirt.

"What's wrong, little duckling? Isn't this what you wanted?~" Camilo teased, enjoying the little squeaks and laughter coming from his sibling.

Another squeal ripped itself from his mouth as Camilo suddenly scratched at his ribs, supposedly counting them.

He was already in stitches.

"Your hahahands!! Thehey're cohohold!" Vic managed to squeak out, His hands over his mouth, throwing himself against Camilo's chest, trying to get away from his hands.

"Oh, trust me, hermanito. I know they are." Camilo grinned, continuing to run his hands up and down their ribs before stopping at the last one and scribbling there then he moved to their stomach.

Vic's eyes widened and he let out a squeal, bursting into loud laughter, unable to contain it as their hands flailed, their squirming intensifying.

"NOHOHOT HEHEHEERE!!"

The older's grin widened as he stopped digging into their stomach, beginning to just give fast pokes around it.

"Not where, huh? Here? Perhaps here?"

Every 'here' he'd poke around some other spot on their stomach, driving Vic wild.

He even began to blow raspberries into the back of their neck, his curls tickling their neck as much as the raspberries.

"NAHAHAHA, MIHIHILO!" Vic laughed out loud, squirming around in his grasp, kicking his legs out. Squeals escaping his mouth.

"Na? Na what? Na...il? Naa….sty? Naaa...vel? Aww, Vic, if you wanted me to blow some raspberries on your stomach, all you had to do was ask!~"

While still poking around his stomach, he spun them around and laid them down on the ground.

Sitting on their legs, he switched to poking his sides with one hand and rolling their shirt up with the other.

Smirking down at them while now scribbling their sides with both hands, he took a deep breath.

Vic's eyes widened as he tried to squirm away but had no luck since they were pinned down. "NOHOHOHO!!"

Camilo scribbled at his sides as he brought his head down and blew a huge raspberry on his stomach, making him arch his back and scream with laughter.

"MIHIHILO!"

"Viiic!~" Camilo laughed before beginning to blow more, smaller raspberries on the younger's stomach. Not leaving their sides alone, he still scribbled there.

Vic squirmed, they wanted to kick his legs out but Camilo sat on them, so all he could do was squirm a little and push at his head with their hands, tears brimming up in his eyes because of how hard he was laughing.

Camilo relentlessly blew small but powerful raspberries onto their stomach and his hands scratched at their sides.

The tickles finally became too much as Vic fell into silent laughter, reaching his limit.

And that was Camilo's cue to stop as he got off of their legs and sat down next to them. He watched Vic curl into a ball of overleft breathy giggles and panting as he rubbed their back.

"You alright, baby sib? I didn't go too hard on you, did I?" Camilo asked, though a smile was on his face, seeing his siblings or cousins happy, made him happy.

Vic let out a few more giggles before sitting up from his fetal position, giving their brother a smile. "I'm fihine, Don't worry." he reassured, smiling.

Camilo grinned, pulling them into a hug, which they accepted, giggling a bit.

"You know, I'll have to admit that was pretty good prank, didn't see it coming, but" Camilo poked at their side, making them giggle as he swat his hands away. "Pull that again and I might not ever stop."

Vic chuckled, nodding and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, of course."

After that Camilo dragged Vic away to watch Bruno's rat telenovelas to help him wind down a bit.

Let's just say, Vic never learned their lesson and he'd provoke Camilo again, just for tickles.

#encanto #encanto tickles #sfw tickles #tickle community #ler!camilo #oc #Vic Madrigal #mine

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beauregardlionett · 4 years

Text

clinging to all that you left me

AO3 Link

Beau dropped to one knee, the force of the blow to her chest knocking the wind from her lungs momentarily. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly as her lungs tried to remember how to function, chest constricting. She felt hyper-aware of every second that passed without air, and then she felt her lungs jump and oxygen flooded through her with such a rush she almost fell over completely. Catching herself with one hand, the other pressed to her sternum, Beau looked up at the brute that had struck her down just in time to see them fly backward from a blast of arcane energy.

Caleb appeared at her side, wiry arm winding firm around her shoulder. A glance sideways met Beau with a severe expression lining Caleb’s face, blue eyes scanning through the fray rapidly.

He cursed under his breath in Zemnian, before continuing in Common. “We need to get out of here.”

Oh, it must be bad then.

Beau was bleeding from several places on various limbs, and she was relatively sure one of her ribs was not where it was supposed to be. She knew that her last couple of hits hadn’t been as strong as they could have been. But it was only now that she wasn’t engaged with an enemy that she could fully take stock of her state.

Sweeping a look around, she found Jester pressed against a rock about sixty feet from her and Caleb. The Tiefling’s gaze found the pair of them and Caleb made a gesture in Beau’s peripheral. Jester must have understood because she nodded rapidly and spun away.

The next thing Beau knew, Veth was emerging from shadows Beau hadn’t even been aware of. The Halfling grabbed Jester’s outstretched hand, and then they vanished between one blink and the next.

“Brace yourself,” Caleb muttered, riffling through his sack for components. Beau understood that they needed to leave, but it hadn’t quite hit her yet that they were going in the next few seconds.

Her eyes seemed to scan on instinct, because she found Caduceus in the next couple seconds, nearly across the battlefield from them. He was already moving toward Fjord, grabbing for the half-Orc’s arm and calling out to--

Yasha.

The barbarian was separated from Caduceus and Fjord, engaged with an enemy and looking worse for wear. Beau watched with her breath stuck in her throat as the greatsword swung down with the force of Yasha’s attack and just missed taking the enemy’s head clean off their shoulders. There was blood staining Yasha’s side and dripping down her exposed arm from somewhere higher on her shoulder. Beau knew firsthand that there were likely several more wounds littering Yasha’s skin that were barely visible, and worry was like a rock dropping in the monk’s gut.

“Caleb, wait,” Beau gasped, every instinct screaming at her to get to Yasha’s side. “Yasha!”

Everything went blurry, Caleb’s arm around her shoulder the only solid thing Beau could register for a moment. Then they were tumbling messily onto the floor of the Lavish Chateau’s dining area. Beau cried out when she landed on her side, that finicky rib most definitely dislocated now.

Her vision went grey for a long few moments, voices and sound and feeling a blurred, incomprehensible mess of senses. Chilly hands grasped Beau’s shoulders and then warm healing energy raced from the point of contact to all the monk’s various injuries. Gasping, weak and sharp, Beau jerked in Jester’s grasp and tried to sit up. That damn rib shifted, and she immediately stopped trying to do that, hands curling into fists.

“Beau!” Jester’s voice prompted the monk’s eyes open, finding the Tiefling, Veth, and Caleb hovering over her with varying degrees of worry.

“I’m fine,” she gasped, pushing weakly at Jester’s hands. “What about Yasha? Fjord and Cad?”

“I’m sure Caduceus got them out, but his temple is all the way out at the lighthouse. He knows to come back here, though,” Jester said rapidly, twisting her fingers together and eyes darting between Caleb and Veth as she spoke. She looked like she was trying to reassure them as much as herself, and it did nothing to settle the roiling nerves in Beau’s stomach.

“We have to find them,” Beau insisted, feeling irrational but not knowing how to stop.

“Beauregard, your rib,” Caleb cautioned, reaching out to grasp her elbow as the monk shifted to stand again.

“Fuck my rib, man!” Beau yelled at him, but didn’t pull away. Caleb’s eyes were all to knowing as he stared her down, and Beau couldn’t bring herself to hate how well he understood her anger was worry.

“Let me fix it first, Beau,” Jester whispered as she cast a healing spell on Veth. “Then we can start toward the lighthouse.”

“Can you Send them a message?” Veth asked as she pat Jester’s arm in thanks. “To make sure they got back?”

Beau’s eyes snapped to Jester’s face, hopeful and far too eager to pass off as anything but worried. But the cleric shook her head, expression twisting.

“I used up all my higher spell slots in the fight and to get back here. I can cast some more healing spells, but I don’t have what I need to cast Sending.” Jester’s violet eyes traced to Beau’s face, contrite. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Beau deflated, cursing herself for being so emotional. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m just-”

Worried, terrified, scared to relax until I know they’re safe, until I know Yasha’s safe.

Jester reached out and grabbed Beau’s free hand that wasn’t clasped to her ribs. Her eyes shone with a sheen of tears that the little Tiefling seemed resolute on not shedding.

“I know, Beau,” Jester whispered. “Let me fix your rib, and then we’ll get going.”

No more than five minutes later, after Jester popped Beau’s rib solidly into place again and they reassured a very stressed looking Marion, their little group limped from the Chateau. Jester took the lead in guiding them toward the lighthouse, her tail flicking nervously behind her as they went, and Beau keeping pace at her shoulder. The monk’s thoughts were racing, but her mind felt empty save for an all-consuming worry with no words. Not that she didn’t trust Caduceus’ ability to get them back safely, but there were a million things Beau could think of that might have gone wrong - all of them out of their control. They didn’t know how much time had passed between Caleb and Beau leaving and the rest of them leaving.

A dark part of Beau’s mind whispered - if they left at all.

She told it to shut the fuck up.

The bustling streets of Nicodranas usually brought Beau a sense of comfort, a feeling of steady peace. But all she wanted to do was shove every idle pedestrian out of her way and break into a sprint toward the lighthouse. Every sensory input felt like it was far too much, and Beau was getting twitchy. Even when Obann had taken Yasha, Beau had never felt like this. Something was different this time, and that something was more than likely Beau’s awareness of how she felt about Yasha. Fjord and Jester knew that she liked Yasha because the words had come from her own mouth. Somehow that made it more real, and because it was more real, Beau stood a bigger chance of losing.

She couldn’t lose Yasha. Yasha wasn’t even her own to lose - and even if they were together, Yasha wouldn’t be Beau’s because Yasha was her own person. But that wasn’t the point. Beau couldn’t-

“There!” Veth’s shrill voice made Beau jump, eyes snapping to follow Veth’s pointing finger.

Sure enough, at the far end of the street, limping their way through the crowd, was their missing trio.

Beau felt like a balloon popped in her chest, exhaling a heavy breath, and then she was sprinting.

Weaving with an agility that was second nature through the crowded thoroughfare, Beau had eyes only for Yasha. She was, of course, relieved to see Caduceus and Fjord were alive and relatively unharmed, too. But Yasha.

The Aasimar seemed startled when she spotted Beau in the crowd when the monk was about ten feet from them. By then, Beau’s momentum was carrying her forward on instinct alone. She launched herself at Yasha and threw her arms around the taller woman’s neck, holding fast. Yasha barely moved with the impact, her sturdy arms winding fast around Beau’s waist, not letting her move even an inch from where she pressed against the Aasimar’s chest. Beau could have sobbed at the feeling, at the sensation of her fingers tangled in Yasha’s long, messy hair. At the warmth radiating from the barbarian that meant she was alive.

“You’re okay,” Beau whispered. She was still shaken, so she didn’t ask. Merely spoke it into existence and hoped Yasha would confirm it.

“I’m okay,” Yasha murmured back, faithfully. “You’re okay?”

This was a question, and Beau choked on a quiet sob as she nodded against Yasha’s shoulder, still clinging.

It hit Beau all at once. She could have lost Yasha, could have never known what happened if Caduceus hadn’t been able to get them out of there. Beau would never have been able to hold Yasha like this, would have lost her chance to confess. Would never have known if Yasha felt the same way.

Beau pulled back just enough to stare up at Yasha, and she could feel that her eyes were damp. The barbarian stared down at Beau in return, brows furrowing when she noticed Beau’s eyes were wet. Yasha opened her mouth, likely to ask again if Beau was okay, but Beau beat her to speaking.

“Can I kiss you?”

Yasha blinked, mouth hanging open with her unspoken question hanging on her tongue. Then she closed her mouth and nodded, mismatched eyes locked on the monk in her arms.

Beau wasted no time surging forward, Yasha stooping to meet her halfway. Their lips pressed together and Yasha’s hand slip up Beau’s back to cup the base of her neck. Beau tightened her fingers in Yasha’s hair and breathed in through her nose, something like content buzzing through her veins and setting her nerve endings on fire. Because oh, she had never been kissed like this before. She knew the taste of lust like she knew the taste of liquor - thrilling in a way that felt dangerous, sour in some places and sweet in others, leaving fire in her throat and venom in her veins. It was a poison, and a drug laced between the lips of every stranger she had ever kissed.

But this - oh, this - was nothing like that. Kissing Yasha was warm, floral and gentle and reassuring - like drinking a cup of Caduceus’ tea and knowing everything was going to be alright. It left a different fire lingering behind Beau’s teeth, and she was content to let it burn. She wouldn’t mind letting it engulf every fiber of her existence if it meant she could keep kissing Yasha.

Yasha pulled back first, only to cup Beau’s face in both her hands and press their foreheads together. Beau let her, still trying to catch her breath and cling to the flames Yasha had pressed into her mouth. Breathless yet again, Beau just clung to Yasha and pretended like she couldn’t hear Jester and Veth squealing and cheering several feet behind them.

“I would like to kiss you again,” Yasha murmured, lips brushing against the tip of Beau’s nose. “But I think we should get out of the street before we draw a crowd.”

“You seem to have that effect,” Beau joked weakly, still a little winded. “But yeah, probably a good idea.”

Yasha released Beau’s face, but traded one hold for another, her arm wrapping around Beau’s shoulders and keeping the monk close to her side. Beau was entirely content to stay there, tucked close and careful. Her cheeks felt hot when turning meant meeting the knowing smirks of Fjord, Caduceus, and Caleb. The three of them just seemed to smile and give satisfied nods before turning and meandering back toward the Chateau, chatting among themselves. Veth and Jester were beaming, scrambling toward Beau and Yasha and gushing as they were wont to do.

Jester, all but vibrating with excitement, grasped onto Beau’s hand and squealed, “it’s about time!”

Beau, grinning bashfully and ducking her head, couldn’t help but agree.

#cr #critical role #beauyasha #beauregard lionett #yasha #writing #my writing #i got wine drunk and wrote lesbians!!!!#what else was i gonna do

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witchygagirlwrites · 3 years

Text

Best Friend (Part 3/3)

you and Kevin are best friends but when you start to fall for him you start pulling away until a life threatening situation urges you to confess how you feel

Kevin was sitting in the corner of the waiting room at Med. It had taken too long for Gabby and Sylvie to get you back. Minutes passed precious minutes that could mean the difference in whether or not you woke up.

The ride to med was the longest one he'd ever experienced. He couldn't ride in the ambulance because he'd been too upset Adam had basically drug him into a car. Otis had climbed in the back of the ambulance with Gabby to help bag you while she worked on stabilizing your injuries. Time you got to Med Will and Connor along with an army of nurses met you in the ambulance bay.

He'd stood outside trauma one watching as Will ventilated you. Your heart was beating but your lungs couldn't breathe on their own yet. You had inhaled too much smoke. He'd stood frozen to the spot until Kim and Adam had talked him into going to the waiting room which was packed with family members of the victims of the fire but one corner of the room was nothing but fire and cpd waiting to hear anything on you.

-----

Gabby and Sylvie both sat leaned against Antonio who was going from silently praying to trying to keep everyone calm.

Adam and Jay had both tried to talk to Kevin but after he snapped at Kim everyone had given him a wide berth knowing if he had acted that way towards her any of the men may have to duck a punch.

-----

Your words kept playing through his head "I love you Kev. You need to know that"

Why hadn't he realized it before then? Why hadn't he told you how he felt? Hell Vinessa and Jordan had called him out more than once but he always thought you just saw him as a friend nothing more and he didn't want to risk your friendship on feelings you may not reciprocate now he may never have the chance to tell you how he felt.

-----

The pregnant woman Jessica was going to be ok. She was far enough along her OB had decided inducing labor would be safer than waiting to check the baby's lung capacity.

She'd given birth to a seven pound, two ounce little girl about half an hour before. Mom and baby were both going to be ok thanks to you.

They'd given the baby your name as her middle name citing that she wouldn't have been born had it not been for you. Jessica told her husband and Sylvie how you had given her the mask and the fire blanket then never left her side and how you had shielded her with your own body when the roof collapsed.

From what Casey and Severide said you had effectively sheilded her. They'd found the two of you under a portion of roof but Jessica hadn't been injured beyond her leg that she told them was broken before the roof came in. She'd been sending her husband down to the emergency department as she could to try to find out any news on you but after the third trip Will had told him someone would come up because it was only causing more stress on Jessica and the people who loved you.

-----

He was proud of you even if what you did was the stupidest thing he'd ever seen. The paramedics had been told time and again after Shay died not to go in a building. He knew you though once you found out there was someone inside and heard that person hell itself wouldn't have kept you out. Your bravery was one of the many reasons he loved you.

Hell he could start now and that baby would be going into kindergarten by the time he got through listing all the reasons he loved you.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes willing for all of this to be a bad dream and him to wake up and be able to start this day over.

A phone ringing pulled everyone's attention to the bag sitting at Sylvie's feet. Your bag. She cut her eyes at Gabby who nodded so she leaned over and unzipped the bag to find your phone sitting on top. when she pulled it out she showed the phone to Antonio who cursed under his breath before taking it and standing up.

Kevin hadn't moved when the phone rang because honestly he hadn't cared. If it was anything to do with you Will would have came out to tell them but when Antonio bumped his foot he glanced up and saw your phone was being held out to him and his heart stopped seeing Vinessa's name and a picture of you and her flash across the screen.

He took the phone from Antonio and took a breath before answering "Hey Vinessa" "Kev?"

He steadied himself for the next part of this conversation "Where's auntie?" "Hold on I'll go get her. Is everything ok?" "Just go get her" he answered being more snappy than he usually would be with his sister but not wanting to have to tell her what was going on with you not yet.

-----

He told his aunt what had happened and the shape you were currently in. "She's strong Kevin. She'll pull through" she assured him but he couldn't shake the image of your body hanging limp in Kelly's arms. "I don't know what I'm gonna do if she don't" he admitted feeling like a portion of his heart was getting ripped out his chest at the prospect of you dying.

"Keep faith in her and the doctors. If she's half the woman you and these kids say she is she'll wake up" he spotted Will walking towards him so told her he had to go. The last thing she told him was "I really want to meet her one day" then hung up.

-----

Everyone held their breath when they spotted Will. Sylvie and Kim stood to be next to Kevin as he heard whatever news was coming.

Will let out a breath and smiled slightly "She's got a concussion from the blow, fourteen staples in the back of her head and bruised ribs but all in all she was lucky considering. Now as far as the smoke inhalation goes we're slowly weaning her off the ventilator and so far she's doing good. If she continues at this pace she'll be backing breathing on her own before morning. She's medicated so she's resting but Kev she's going to recover"

Kevin felt himself weaken at hearing you were going to be ok. He'd been preparing himself for the worse but now he knew you were coming back to him.

He pulled Kim then Sylvie into a hug. "She's going to be ok" Kim reminded with a smile.

-----

Will let everyone go to your room two at a time. Seeing you with a breathing tube in was hard but knowing you would recover lessened the blow.

Once everyone had saw you mainly to reassure themselves you were still intact they began to trickle out to head home and get some sleep so they could all come back in the morning before shifts started to check on you. Kevin however couldn't bring himself to leave so Will cleared it for him to stay overnight.

-----

He sat at your bed staring at your chest as it rose and fell. Your breathing was getting better. In the last few hours they had removed the breathing tube completely leaving you on just oxygen but you were still sleeping from the pain medication they'd given you.

Will had left orders with the night shift on keeping a check on you and that he would be in first thing to check your lung functions.

He was beyond tired. Sleep had been nipping at him since everyone left earlier but in his mind if he fell asleep something would happen to you and he couldn't chance it.

His aunt had called again for an update on you and was happy to hear they were confident in your recovery. He'd talked to Vinessa and Jordan and they were both worried about you and made him promise to call as soon as you were up to talking again.

He sat looking through the numerous photos of you and his siblings he had on his phone. He settled on one in particular that Vinessa had taken on her last birthday. You were smiling and hanging off his neck as you ducked a water balloon thrown by Kim and Adam.

Why hadn't he realized then he was in love with you? He finally drifted off to sleep with one hand touching your arm that was closest to him.

-----

Everything hurt as you swam out from under the fog of unconsciousness. The last thing you remembered was blocking Jessica from the piece of roof that was crashing down on the two of you.

You felt a weight on your left arm and slowly opened your eyes to see Kevin fast asleep with his head leaned over on your arm. He looked so peaceful you didn't want to move and risk waking him but you needed to see just how badly you were hurt not to mention you had to see how Jessica and her baby were.

Despite the pain you were feeling a touch of embarrassment hit when you remembered telling Kevin you loved him. Was that why he'd stayed? A sense of guilt? Or maybe he felt the same? That thought made a small smile slip onto your face but you pushed it down and looked around for the call button and hit it once hoping whoever came in would keep it down a bit until you at least found out what happened after you were knocked out.

------

Will's head popped around the corner and he gave you a small smile. You help one finger to your lips and he looked down and saw Kevin still asleep "How ya feeling wonder woman?" He whispered coming closer to listen to your breathing. "Not that wonderful" you croaked out grimacing at the sound of your own voice pushing the oxygen down once he gave the ok.

"So do you wanna know about yourself first or about Jessica and her little girl?"

-----

After showing you a couple pics on his phone of Jessica and your name sake Will gave you a rundown of your own injuries and you were honestly surprised you'd faired as well as you did.

"Has he been here all night?" You asked and felt Kevin stirring before he sat up rubbing his eyes "He's been here since they brought you in"

Will smiled and said "I'll give you two a few minutes. There's some tests we need to run on you but for now just rest. You need it" "Thanks Will" you replied with a tired smile. He winked at you before walking out "I'd say any time but I prefer not to see you again like this"

A silence fell between you and Kevin once Will walked out. He spoke your name quietly bringing his eyes up to yours and you felt tears spring to your eyes “Just please be my best friend right now, not the guy I just confessed my love to.” you begged closing your eyes and leaning back against the pillows.

You couldn't face the pity you were sure was in his eyes. He was your friend of course he'd stayed to make sure you didn't die but now that he knew you were on the mend would come the talk that he didn't feel the same way.

He reached out and grabbed your hand running his thumb across the back of it. "Angel look at me please" you opened your eyes slowly and when he saw the tears brimming in them it hurt his heart. "Seeing Kelly carry you out that building felt like my whole world stopped. You weren't breathing, you were bleeding and they wouldn't let me get to you. It took me a while to realize it myself but I've been in love with you for almost as long as I've known you. You're my best friend and I don't want to ever have to doubt that you know how I feel about you again. So please baby don't think for a minute that I don't love you"

-----

You felt a smile spread across your face as Kevin's words tumbled out. When he got through he sat staring at you with an expectant look on his face as if he was scared that your confession had just been stimmed by the possibility of death.

"One request" you said turning your hand over to lace your fingers with his. A smile slipped onto his face staring at your hands before raising his eyes back to your face "Anything" he said squeezing your hand gently "are you willing to kiss me while I sound like a frog?"

He let out a shocked laugh and shrugged "Baby I'd kiss you even if you were a frog"

Kevin stood up and gently brushed his lips against yours in a tentative kiss. You raised your hand that didn't have an IV in it to pull him closer to you and deepen the kiss.

The sound of Will clearing his throat at the door made Kevin pull away from you with a smile. "I love you Kevin" you whispered pressing another quick kiss to his lips before he could pull away completely. "I love you too sweetheart" he said with a smile before stepping back so Will could get up to your side.

Will looked between the two of you and chuckled "I always thought you two would be good together"

#chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd fic #one chicago fanfic #kevin atwater drabble #kevin atwater x reader

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trashyswitch · 4 years

Text

Chaos in the Sanders House

The Sides are having fight after fight after fight. So much denial, so much truths being thrown at each other. How shall it end? Why, with tickles, of course!

I started taking the personalities of a few of my friends, and placing them as Sanders Sides characters. So...for those who I've basically written their personalities, I hope you enjoy the PURE CHAOS! This is: The server in a Nutshell!

WARNING: Some swearing, some cusses and a bit of dirty humor.

Tickletober day 24: I’m Not Ticklish!

Janus and Virgil were yelling profanities at each other, and Poor Patton had to watch. Thankfully, Patton had a bowl of popcorn to keep him calm.

“FUCK YOU! I AM NOT A DABI SIMP!” Virgil shouted at him.

“YES YOU ARE! YOU LITERALLY HAVE A DABI FACE MASK IN YOUR ROOM!” Janus shouted at him.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Just because I have a Dabi mask, doesn’t mean I simp him.” Virgil added.

“LIES!” Janus shouted back at him.

“HOW?!” Virgil asked in anger.

“I’VE SEEN YOUR SHRINE IN THE CLOSET. YOU HAVE A FULL COSPLAY OF HIM, AND YOU EVEN HAVE A BODY PILLOW OF DABI! THIS IS AN INTERVENTION! YOU ARE OBSESSED!” Janus told him.

Virgil’s eyes widened. “I-...well...YOU’RE A SHIGGY SIMP!” Virgil yelled back.

“I- Excuse me?!” Janus asked.

“YOU SIMP SHIGGY SO MUCH!” Virgil yelled.

“HEY!” Janus leaned into Virgil’s face. “Don’t you DARE call him Shiggy. It’s Shigaraki to you.” Janus warned.

Virgil smirked as he pulled out his phone and pulled up a text conversation that was filled with thousands of fanart images of Shigaraki. “I’m surprised you haven’t maxed out your storage.” Virgil added.

“Shut up, Virgil! I’ve read the X Reader fanfictions you’ve uploaded to your Wattpad story.” Janus mentioned.

Virgil gasped. “You take that back!” He ordered. “At least I haven’t gone to Remus for SMUT IDEAS!” Virgil added.

Janus blushed almost immediately. “I...How did you-”

Remus popped up. “You called?”

“NOT NOW REMUS!” Janus shouted in his face.

Virgil snickered. “Geez, he just appeared! Why would you act so offended if you don’t ask him for smut suggestions?” Virgil asked.

“OH! Speaking of smut fanfic-writing, I HAVE A NEW IDEA FOR YOU!” Remus told Janus excitedly.

Janus squeaked in embarrassment. “REMUS, PLEEEEAAASE SHUT UP! NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR THIS!” Janus begged.

Remus rolled his eyes and pulled out his pen and notebook with the words ‘Fanfictions Waiting to Happen’ in Newspaper Cutout Letters.

“Anyway: YOU’RE A DABI SIMP!” Janus shouted at Virgil.

“YOU’RE A SHIGGY SIMP!” Virgil shouted back at Janus.

“Well, FUCK YOU!” Janus yelled.

“FUCK YOU TOO!” Virgil shot back.

“I would fuck you two any day!” Remus declared proudly.

“REMUS STAY OUT OF THIS!” Both Janus and Virgil shouted at him. Remus just bursted out laughing and continued to write in his notebook.

Patton’s face winced in disgust as he shoved more popcorn into his mouth to stop himself from throwing up.

Roman came walking through the front door with 2 big balloons in his hand. Then, Roman removed the strings from both balloons, untied them, plugged the ends with his fingertips and handed one balloon each to Virgil and Janus. “Hi guys! Sorry for interrupting. Please continue this debate while sucking up helium. Let’s see how long you last before you die of laughter.” Roman suggested.

Virgil raised an eyebrow in confusion while Janus was already trying not to laugh. Roman waved the sides on. “Okay. Keep going.” Roman encouraged.

Virgil sighed and looked over to Janus. “Can I just mention that Janus has, like, 3 separate stories filled with Shiggy x Reader fanfictions?” Virgil mentioned.

Janus sucked in some helium. “How else am I going to organize my- Oh my GOD! HAHA!” Janus reacted, before laughing at his own voice.

Virgil tittered and sucked in some helium of his own. “Your voice sounds like a CHIPMUNK!” Virgil reacted.

“And yours doesn’t?!” Janus asked.

“I know MINE does, but your voice sounds like Theodore from the Chipmunks!” Virgil reacted.

“Excuse me, that’s offensive! I am NOT Theodore!” Janus warned.

“I didn’t say you were!” Virgil mentioned.

“True, but you said I sound like him!” Janus told him.

“You DO!” Virgil reacted.

Patton was giggling and laughing at the voices. “Hey Janus! I bet if you dressed in a green sweater, you’d be adorable like him too!” Patton mentioned.

“I...Excuse me?” Janus reacted.

“You are excused.” Patton teased.

“I- NO! I am NOT cute!” Janus argued.

“Yes you are!” Patton replied, before waddling up to him and squishing his cheeks. “You are the most adorable snek to ever snek.” Patton teased.

Janus’s face blushed even more than before. Unable to handle it, Janus squeaked in embarrassment and pushed his hands off his cheeks. “Stop it! I’m not cute!” Janus told him as he struggled to keep his composure.

Patton gasped and crossed his arms. “Are you denying the all-knowing Father of the Sanders Sides?” Patton reacted in an offended tone.

“Yes, I am.” Janus said back with a smirk.

Patton narrowed his eyes at him in slight annoyance before walking a few steps closer and closer to Janus. Surprisingly, Janus felt unphased by this action. He just continued to stare at Patton with a smug smile on his face. But the moment Patton poked his ribs, Janus’s smile fell and was replaced by another squeak. “NO! Don’t you even dare!” Janus warned.

“Oooohohohoho! You should’ve thought about what you were denying before you tried denying it.” Patton mentioned. “Because I can easily prove your adorableness...Through a few tickles, of course!” Patton told him with a big smile before he squeezed Janus’s side.

“What are you even talking about? I’m not denying anything! And I’m not even ticklish! Like, at all!” Janus tried to tell them.

Remus guffawed at the last statement. “He’s VERY ticklish! Go for his ribs! Those are a killer.” Remus said with no filter whatsoever.

“REMUS!” Janus shouted at him.

“Oooooh, this is gonna be good!” Virgil reacted with a smirk.

Janus jumped back and tried to run away from the situation he got himself into. But right as he tried to escape, Roman wrapped his arms under Janus’s underarms and held him there. “WAIT! NO! LET ME GO ROMAN!” Janus ordered.

Roman just laughed. “You’re not gonna scare me into letting you go, Jan. Just accept your fate, and SUFFER.” Roman replied smugly.

“I’ll get you back. I know all of your ticklish spots. Don’t underestimate my abilities to tickle you.” Janus warned.

“Aww, come on Janus! Can’t handle being the lee for once?” Roman asked.

Janus attempted to reach back and tickle Roman’s sides and hips if he could. But Roman just tickled him right under the armpits for even trying! “NAHAHA- ROMAN!” Janus yelled.

“Yes?” Roman replied calmly as he observed Patton getting closer and closer.

“Let. Me. GO- AAAH! PAHAHAT! WAHA- WAHAIT!” Janus shrieked.

“Wow! You’re right! I AM waiting! Wanna know what I’m waiting for?” Patton teased calmly as he poked and drummed his fingers on his ribs.

Janus gulped and whimpered nervously as Patton leaned into his ear, and whispered a breath-filled answer: “Your bubbly, manic laughter...”

Janus held his breath and tried to fight Roman off. And he almost succeeded! But Roman had chosen to wait till the last minute, to blow a raspberry onto his neck and catch him off guard. Janus squealed and smiled widely and wobbly as he struggled to get away from them both.

“Oh! Can I help?” Virgil asked, his voice still slightly high from the helium.

“Of course!” Patton replied.

“Cool!” Virgil reacted as he ran up and started going for Janus’s belly. But Janus didn’t react at all to the new touches. He just continued to struggle with the tickling on the ribs. Virgil was taken back in shock.

“Go...for...his feet!” Roman ordered, struggling with Janus in his arms. Virgil immediately ran towards Janus’s backside, grabbed one of his feet, and bent his knee and calf back so he could tickle his feet without an issue.

Janus’s eyes grew to the size of donuts as soon as Virgil so much as touched his foot. “DON’T- YOU- Ohohoho gohohod NOOOOHOHOHO!” Janus begged, slowly falling into short fits of laughter.

“Yes!! We’re close!” Patton declared happily. With the position Janus was stuck in, Janus couldn’t kick Virgil without risking falling over. He also couldn’t move his arms around much without being tickled further by Roman. Every struggle was met with a consequence, and Janus was somewhat conflicted about it! What a cruel way to handle him! But...It was definitely working in their favor.

“Aaa tickletickletickletickletickle!” Patton teased.

“Awww, poor Janny is all ticklish on his footsie. It would be a shame if I were to go for your toes next…” Virgil teased.

Janus squeaked in slight panic and tried to look behind him. “Now hohohold ohon a minute-” Janus yelped and threw his head back as hysterical laughter left his mouth. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHIT TIHIHICKLEHEHES! STAHAP IHIHIHIT!” Janus bursted out.

“Wait, really? I had no idea! It wouldn’t have occurred to me that moving my fingers baaaack and foooorrrth…” Virgil moved his nail back and forth under the toes very slowly to his voice, “...Would tickle so much! What a funny observation!” Virgil teased.

“YOHOHOU’RE HAHAHANGIHIHING AHAROUND LOHOHOGAHAHAN TOOHO MUHUHUHUCH!” Janus yelled at him somehow through all the dominating laughter.

“Oh? I am?” Virgil asked. He turned his face to Logan. “Have I been hanging out with you too much, Logan?” Virgil asked with a wink.

“For a romantic couple, I would say we need to hang out a little more...just for the sole purpose to spite the snake.” Logan suggested.

“Hmm...Well thought out. Okay!” Virgil replied.

“Why of course...I am the logical one, after all.” Logan said with a smug smile as he fixed his glasses.

Virgil chuckled and paused his tickling. Up back onto his feet, Virgil walked up to Logan and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “The most logical…” he added.

Logan blushed and looked away with a wobbly smile on his face.

“And the cutest!” Virgil added, poking his cheek. Logan blinked in surprise and looked at Virgil with a frown. “Actually, you’d be the cuter one in the relationship.” Logan explained.

Virgil guffawed. “Yeah right...Nerdy is the new cutie.” Virgil told him, booping the middle of his glasses.

“Am not. Emo is more adorable.” Logan argued, poking Virgil’s nose to make a blush appear on his vampire-like face. Virgil went cross-eyed for a moment before frowning. “Not true, but okay.” Virgil argued quickly.

Logan’s smug smile dropped. “Very true, actually.” Logan argued.

“Nope. Not true at all.” Virgil argued back.

“100% true, Virge. So true in fact, that simply tickling you would show the sides just how adorable you are.” Logan told him.

Virgil blushed slightly and narrowed his eyes. “...you wouldn’t…” Virgil dared.

Logan poked his belly and made a little ‘beep’ sound. “Oh look. I did it.” Logan said in a monotone voice. Virgil crossed his arms and soon smirked as he started to plan a tickle attack on him. “Hmm...It would appear my cute little emo might be planning something. Considering I just poked you in that belly of yours, I can theorize that you’re planning some sort of ticklihihi- HIHIHIHING AHAHAHATTAHAHACK- HAHAHAHAHAHA!” Logan hypothesized before falling into hysterics under Virgil’s fingers alone.

“Oh wow! The rainbow nerd is ticklish! Who woulda thunk?” Virgil reacted in a slightly monotone voice of his own.

Logan struggled to cover up his ticklish spots with his arms and quickly started to crumble to the evil, quick pokes and squeezes against his tummy. Virgil was very quick with his movements (unsurprisingly...he’s anxiety) and managed to even sneak around and squeeze his hip! Logan was almost losing his balance, so Virgil decided to squeeze both ticklish hips and drill into them at the same time. “zzZZZZZZZZzzzZzzzzzZZZ!” Virgil teased, imitating the sound of a drill gun.

Logan wheezed and doubled over in laughter. “NODRILLS- NOHOHOHO DRIHIHIHILLS!! NAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Logan laughed before falling onto his side. With Logan now onto the ground, Virgil set to work. Virgil wrapped one arm under Logan’s left armpit and started squeezing and skittering his fingers all over Logan’s back. “OHOHOHO GEHEHEHEHEHEEEZ! COHOHOME OHOHOHON! HAHAHAHA NOHOHOT MY BAHAHAHACK! IHIHIHIT FEEHEHEHEELS WEIHIHIHIRD! AHAND TIHIHICKLYHYHYHY!” Logan told him.

“Weird, you say? Are you sure that isn’t just the ticklish sensation effecting you?” Virgil asked, lessing his tickles a little so he could talk.

“Ihihit ihihihis, buhuhut Ihihihi’m nohohot uhuhuhused tohohohoho ihihit.” Logan told him.

“Oooh...Okay.” Virgil replied understandingly. “Perhaps I should take it slower?” Virgil suggested.

Logan couldn’t help but blush and giggle from embarrassment. But, he nodded his head. “Okay.” Logan replied.

Virgil took a few minutes to tickle his back very gently and slowly, so he wasn’t overwhelmed. Remus, who was just enjoying the cute view, rested his cheek on the palm of his hand as he enjoyed the cute moment in front of him.

Patton, who was still tickling Janus, gave him a break and turned around. “Hey Remus! If you’d like some popcorn, have mine if you’d like!” Patton offered.

Remus gasped and placed his free hand on his chest in appreciation. “Awww! Thanks Patton!” Remus said happily before grabbing the bowl and shovelling popcorn into his mouth.

Patton turned his focus back onto Janus and giggled. “You okay?” Patton asked.

Janus’s breathing was slowly getting calm as he recovered. “You...are so...getting it...Pat…” Janus warned. Without a second thought, Patton took off running. Patton turned his head around and squealed when he saw a tall, revenge-hungry Janus sprinting after him. It didn’t take long for Patton’s laughter to echo through the hallways towards the sides.

In the living room, Virgil was starting to pick up the pace on Logan’s ticklish back. Logan’s giggles turned to squeals and laughter as he wiggled his back around from the ticklish sensations. It felt weird the quicker that Virgil tickled, but it was a lot less unbearable thanks to Virgil’s slow start. Logan didn’t really get a chance to tickle Virgil back, but he did get a few moments to cuddle his loving boyfriend. The couple happily cuddled on the couch in the comfort of each other’s arms and enjoyed the sound of Patton’s distant laughs and hiccups.

...Meanwhile, Remus was STILL writing in his notebook. “Have you two made love yet?”

...Let’s just say it didn’t take long for a more manic fit of laughter to join Patton’s...

#ticklefic #Analogical #tickletober2020 #tickletober day 24 #I'm not ticklish!#lee!logan #ler!virgil #switch!janus #switch!patton

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serzhantkris · 4 years

Text

Rebel Yell- 7

Summary: Let’s get something straight: he does not love you. He knows that for sure, because he doesn’t want to scream at you and he doesn’t want to get married, and that’s the only things he knows for sure about people who are in love. And he was doomed to kiss with his fists and scream and be angry and blame everyone but himself for the rest of his life. So, no. Billy did not love you. Billy Hargrove x Hopper!Reader

Word Count: 2545

Warning: sexual situations

AN: Here is where I apologize for who I am as a person. I haven’t written in..... so long, you guys. But I’m back on my bullshit and writing again, seldom as it may be, so have this!

Masterlist

The back of your head hits the dumpster, sending a loud clang of metal vibrating through the small alcove. Billy doesn’t stop, his hands skimming under the hem of your shirt to touch the small of your back. You press closer to the metal as he pushes himself between your legs, and no matter where your hands roam, he keeps making that deep, needy groan at the back of his throat.

He pulls his lips away, burying his nose in the hair behind your ear as his tongue searches for your pulse. It tickles, and you grip his shoulders when he smiles against your skin.

Billy Hargrove was not the type of boy you bring home to your parents. He was rough around the edges, drove too fast and smoked too much. His music was always too loud and he was quick to ignite.

In short, Billy Hargrove was too much a lot of things. But it was thrilling, to be pushed up against the dumpster or the wall or a locker, to have him kiss you like it was the only thing that mattered. He made you forget about the monsters and the nightmares and Barb.

He was a daydream you never wanted to wake up from.

“Billy,” you breathed, pushing his shoulders gently. He kept kissing your neck, clinging to you with desperate hands. “Billy, we’re gonna be late for class-”

“So be late,” he mumbles, fingers digging into your sides. You laugh, still pushing him gently back from you.

“One more tardy and I’ve got detention.” He pulls back, reluctantly letting you go as you reach for the backpack you’d dropped by the door. “Two more hours. Two more hours and I’m yours for the whole weekend.”

Friday nights weren’t enough anymore. As Billy spent more and more of them in your home, you became dependant on his being there. You needed him to put his arm over the back of the couch while you watched sappy movies, and you needed him to fill you to the brim and give you something real to hold onto. And Billy needed the safety of your home and your touch, and while neither of you would ever admit how much you had come to rely on one another, it was evident that there was something unspoken between you. Billy didn’t go on dates with other girls anymore, and your window was always unlocked for him. Girls gave you dirty looks in the hallways and new whispers had started forming about Billy, but it didn’t seem to matter. Things were different now.

——————————

If Billy kept his eyes closed, he could almost pretend he was somewhere else. He’d gotten good at it, with seventeen years of practice, and now was no exception. So there he was, the blanket pulled up over his head and his eyes squeezed shut—

He was on the beach. The sand was warm and gritty under his feet, his toes sinking into it as he stood looking out at the waves. The waves were high, stretching up over his head as the tides danced back and forth from the shore. Each time they rushed toward him, grasping for him like hands threatening to pull him under, they missed and retreated without him. The smell of salt made his nostrils flare, and the sun beat down on his bare shoulders unrelenting. He was home, and he could dive into the waters and forget Hawkins, forget Neil and forget everything that wasn’t the warm sand and ocean spray.

Outside his window, the crickets tore through his daydream and Billy opened his eyes.

The bed under him was hard, indented from years of curling up on the side closest to the wall, and the room itself was cold and smelled like cigarettes and dirty laundry. The blanket over his face was scratchy, and he could hear the hum of a car passing beyond his window.

He pushed the blanket away, opening himself to the dark room and sat up. His feet hit the rough carpet and he stared into the dark and tried to think about anything but the silence seeping through the house.

He was angry. Angry because he wasn’t at the beach, angry because he was about as far from the beach and the ocean and home as he possibly could be; angry in the same way the constellation of bruises on his ribs were angry. Angry because anger was the only thing he one-hundred percent knew how to feel. It festered and infected his blood, surging through his body like a chemical hormone- and straight to his dick. The only remedies Billy knew for resolving such pure anger was whiskey and fucking, and he’d be a damned liar if he said he didn’t have a preference.

Billy stood up, ignoring the lopsided sting in his ribs as he snatched up his leather jacket and jammed his feet into his shoes. The keys dug into his palm as he shoved the window open, feet landing hard on the ground below it.

——————————

It’s dark. Ravenous. Venom drips from the towering trees. The scream tearing up your throat echoes in the empty. Your legs pound the ground. Ahead, you see her. Watching. Whispering. “Don’t go in there.” Her voice is loud in your head. “He just wants in your pants.” She turns, walking away from you. “You’re smarter than this.” Run. Run. Runrunrun- you can’t run anymore. It got you. It got you, and you can’t breathe. It pins you to the cold ground, the flower of a face swells and blooms. Something wet, sticky and viscous lands on your face. You scream. It screams back.

You jerk awake, and the scream hits the hand covering your mouth. Your fingers dig into the wrist before you realize it’s not a monster leaning over you. His pulse is steady under your fingertips. Blue eyes look down with apprehension and he lets go of your mouth. Taking a deep breath, you sit up slowly and dig the heels of your hands into your eyes.

Billy frowns at you from his place at the corner of your bed. The only light is the clock at your bedside and the moon streaming through the open window, but it’s enough for him to see the sweat sticking to your forehead and your chest heaving as you find your breath. He has to strain to hear you when you speak, voice rough with sleep and bad dreams.

“What are you doing here?”

The intentions that brought Billy to your window are forgotten. His anger deflated like a balloon the moment he heard the familiar whimper of nightmares you breathed into your pillow, and now he just felt sad.

Billy reaches into his pocket, producing two cigarettes. He lights them as you lower your hands to look at him, and passes one your way. You almost protest, knowing your dad will kill you if he smells the smoke, but take it anyway.

“What was it?”

Your brows knit and Billy turns his head toward the window to blow the smoke out it. The shadows falling on his jaw make him look older, the dark shape of his eyebrows make him wiser, and the pout of his lips as he takes another drag from the cigarette makes him look innocent.

“The dream,” he says knowingly. “What was it?”

How do you explain the noise, that guttural scream of something from another world, or the lingering fear that no matter where you turned, there was always something lurking around the corner? How do you explain the feeling of being moments away from being shredded alive?

How do you explain that it isn’t nightmares at all, but a dark and terrible memory?

“One of my best friends… Barb,” you say instead, fidgeting with your hands in your lap, fighting tears. “Last year, around this time- she went missing. And- and she never came back. We looked for her, practically everyone. We combed the woods for weeks. Her parents, they still think she’s alive, out there somewhere. That she ran away.”

Billy listens, quietly, trying to empathize, but the truth was, there was no one that would make him feel the way you were feeling. He didn’t have friends that made him feel much of anything. Truth be told, there was no one in the world he loved enough to miss, and he suspected that if it were him- there would be no one to miss him, either.

“She’s dead,” you say. The words weigh down your tongue, and you close your eyes just to let them be. Billy doesn’t move, watching you intensely. Saying the words out loud made your shoulders drop, your body suddenly heavy. “Don’t ask me how I know it. But she’s gone, and nothing I ever do will bring her back.”

The smoke from your cigarettes linger in the air even after you’ve both snubbed them out in the ashtray by your bed. Billy moves to sit next to you, elbows on his knees as he fiddles with his lighter. “I’m sorry ‘bout your friend,” he says, looking up at you.

The ache crawls from his ribs up into his chest and settles in his heart. A tear drips down your cheek and he reaches up, catching it with his thumb. He holds onto your chin, eyes flickering over your face. You were in pain, and the only way Billy knew how to stop it was the same way he stopped feeling anything else.

He leaned forward, capturing your lips gingerly. It was soft and uncertain- not at all the way Billy had ever kissed a girl before. He was careful, aware in all the ways he knew you were not, and when you melted into him, he gently grabbed your shoulders and pushed you back. You adjusted your legs as he climbed over you, holding himself up. His lips peeled away, kissing over your cheeks and temples where loose tears had spilled out. You stopped crying when he brushed his nose against your jaw, letting your hands snake up his chest.

Billy leaned back, catching your hands in one of his, stopping your fingers from undoing the buttons on his shirt. Instead, he pulled them up to his neck and you latched on, holding him close as he bent back down to trail kisses over your neck and down your collar bone.

He makes his way down, little by little, planting tender kisses down your sternum. Even over your clothes, you can feel the flutter of his eyelashes on your navel. He stops there, so low that the only part of him you can still grab is the soft curls on top of his head.

His fingers hook the top of your shorts, tugging them down and tossing them somewhere in the dark. You shiver at the touch of cold as he clutches your thigh and spreads your legs apart. He settles between them, hooking your knees over his shoulders. Your fingers grasp his hair as his hot breath touches you, light as a feather. He leans in and you shudder when his lips press to the insides of your thighs.

He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t tease you for already being wet when he swipes his thumb over your opening; doesn’t taunt you into begging for him before he dives in, tongue first, like you’re the sweetest fruit he’s ever had. His hands glide over your thighs and between them, spreading you further. He lets out a sigh as his tongue slithers into you, making you jerk toward him. He grins but doesn’t stop even when your legs shake, straining not to squeeze him. Two fingers slide into your cunt, his mouth sucking on your clit. You’re tugging his hair, heels digging into the mattress, biting back a moan that turns into a strangled whine in your throat as you cum.

Billy keeps tasting you until your hands relax in his hair. The moment you let go, he slides up your body and catches your mouth. You taste yourself on him, spurring a new fire low in your belly. He struggles to unbuckle his jeans and pull them down, never letting his lips leave yours until his knees are back on the bed.

His chest heaves with the anticipation, but he forces himself to hold back. He sits back and reaches down, breaking the kiss to fist himself and, after a few long strokes, lines himself up. One of your hands reaches out to him, a finger hooking in the necklace dangling between you.

He pushes in and you tug, pulling him down to kiss you again. He remains buried in you for a long moment. One elbow digs into the bed by your head, palm flat against the side of your face. He pulls back from your kiss, just enough to look you in the eye, just enough to make sure you’re still tear-free as he starts to move. It aches, how slow he drags out of you, and his eyes pinched shut and his chin hits his chest when he pushes back in.

You wrap your legs around Billy’s waist, pulling him as close to you as he can possibly get. His other elbow comes down on the other side of your head, enclosing you against him. His chest presses flat against yours, and you swear you can feel his heart beating, too.

His breath pants against your face, his hair hanging down so that all you can see is those bright blue eyes fluttering with each slow thrust, and the pink lips that keep leaving kisses on your tingling skin.

Billy doesn’t close his eyes. He doesn’t pretend he’s somewhere else. He moves like a California wave and you grasp onto him, pulling him close and burying your face into his shoulder. He smells the ocean in your coconut shampoo and your fingers dig into his back, unrelenting. He dives into you and he forgets Neil and Hawkins and California and everything that isn’t you, even when he comes and his body shakes and he stops holding himself up. Even when your arms wrap around his neck and hold him close and he can’t let you go, because here, in this tiny, crappy trailer by the lake, you’re the beach and the ocean and Billy-- Billy is drowning.

You fall asleep listening to the pulse of Billy’s heart. He’s lying next to you, hair stuck to his forehead and eyes watching the clock. You were watching the way his tongue caught the sweat on his lip, counting his eyelashes. It’s heavy, the need to sleep, and as much as you fight it, you can’t win.

It’s dark. Comforting. A soft breeze carries the scent of pine through the trees. Your laughter echoes in the woods. Your feet barely touch the ground. Ahead, you see him. Watching. Smiling. “I want to know you.” His voice is loud in your head. You can’t run anymore. He got you. He got you, and you can’t breathe. You can’t breathe because he kisses you and steals the air and that’s okay, that’s okay because if you had the air to speak, you’d tell him that you love him.

He got you.

TAGS

@scud994 @nighttwingg @yaidothat @abiwebb12 @camillewester @winchestersister55 @tearsforhan @crowned-gemini @ericuhlorain @frozenhuntress67 @teenbeachmoviewastheshit @asheseiler @captainstilinskis

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things imagine #rebel yell

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marvelgiggles · 4 years

Text

Milestone

Avengers Cast x Reader

This is for all of you in this little community who were supposed to have a high school graduation. So someone mentioned it would be cool to have a surprise one thrown by the Avengers for you.

Also this got a little longer than I planned. I hope I didn’t ramble too much!!

@fluffy-lee @t-w-i-t-c-h-y @squashedbananatk @mysterious-marvel if there is anyone else I’m sorry.

“Where are we going?” You giggled as Robert was leading you through set with a blindfold on.

“Y/N for the last time it’s a surprise. Stop asking questions.” He scolded you as well as pinching your side playfully making you squeak. He continued walking you throughout set no doubt trying to throw you off. Or at least you didn’t remember set being this windy.

“Okay and here we are.” Robert said as he removed your blindfold. It took a minute for your eyes to adjust but when they did your hand flew up to cover your mouth.

You saw a wall of photos of you with all of the cast members, a large Downey sized graduation cake, balloons of your favorite colors as well as those gold number balloons that said 20. The decorations screamed that it was Robert doing to arrange this party.

“SURPRISE!” All of your cast members jumped out from their hiding places. “Happy Graduation!” They all cheered while firing a bunch of those confetti guns.

You were the youngest on the cast and were living away from you hometown and due to the coronavirus you were stuck in Atlanta with your other cast members. You kind of came to terms that you wouldn’t be getting a high school graduation, something that you’ve worked hard for the last 13 years of your life. So you were pretty overwhelmed with this heartfelt surprise from your cast mates.

Robert walked you toward you cake pulling you out of your little daze, while Evans brought out a cap and gown for you to wear. They all gathered around you behind your cake to take a picture.

Once everyone settled down in a circle with their piece of cake, Robert piped up. “Why don’t we go around and say one of each of our favorite memories with Y/N.”

“I’ll go first.” Tom stated. “I’ve loved having someone my age to have as a partner in crime on set.” You smiled fondly thinking of all the trouble you and Tom have gotten into on set together. “Especially when we filled Mackie’s trailer with pool inflatables.” You and Tom laughed at the memory and you pictured Mackie’s annoyed face when he opened his trailer door.

Everyone continued to go around saying incredibly sweet things and you were on the verge of tears with the overwhelming feeling of love from your cast mates.

“I’ve loved how much we’ve seen her grown up over the years. Although, she’s still our baby.” Evans said poking your sides.

You giggled. “Well at least I’m not old, like 40!” You laughed at Evans while smearing frosting on his nose.

Evans quickly wiped the frosting off of his nose and gasped. “I’m 39!” He cried and quickly wrestled you to the ground and straddled your waist. “I’ve also loved all the time I’ve tortured Y/N with...TICKLES!!” He cried as he started scribbling his fingers all over your stomach.

You squealed and immediately started to knock his hands away pretty pathetically. While this shouldn’t have surprised, all your cast members loved to use this weakness of yours against you as much as they could.

"Oh good. She’s just as ticklish as she was before she graduated high school.” Chris said playing dumb as he now started to tickle you by poking the inside part of your hips by your waistline. You were pushing at his bent knees to try and push your way out from under him but you couldn’t help but suddenly he hit a spot that made you scream and curl up laughing uncontrollably.

“Oh ho ho. Did I just find a new spot?” He teased as he then just pushed into that spot with more pressure and vibrate his pointer fingers. You were know desperately trying to twist his way out from under him.

You just heard all of your other castmates laughing at your expense. Thankfully, Evans decided to have some mercy on you but you saw Evans nod at someone. Suddenly he was leaning over you but pulled your arms up over your head and he got off of your waist. However, you suddenly saw Tom smiling down at you.

“Hi Tom.” You giggled and smiled sweetly at him hoping that it would get one of your best friends to have mercy on you.

“Hi Y/N/N.” He smiled and you knew you sweetness got you nowhere. “You know I never got you back for all the times you messed with me when I had to hang upside down.” He said and he dove his hands straight into your armpits.

You cried out in laughter and wanted to shoot your arms down but then you were met with the strength of Captain America.

“NOHOHOHOHO! TOHOHOHOHOM!” You pulled yourself up enough to hide your face into the crook of your elbow so you weren’t laughing quite so loud.

“Uh uh. None of that.” Tom teased as he bent down to blow a raspberry into the exposed side of your neck. You shrieked and tried to squish his face out of your neck but it didn’t work. It would just leave the other side open for him to torment.

“Tell me the truth Y/N. I’m your best friend right?” Tom whispered in your ear which tickled more than you thought it would and it made you break out into Elmo like giggle. “Oh oh oh, I didn’t know you could giggle like Elmo.” Tom continued to whisper making the giggles continue to come out. “Seriously though Y/N/N, I’m your best friend right?”

“Hehehehehe yehehehehes!” You continued to giggle.

“You promise?” Tom asked still whispering in your ear but now added tickling your underarms into the mix.

“YEHEHEHES! I PROHOHOHOHIMISE!” You cried out hoping he would give you a break. Which thankfully he did and he got up off of you and went back to finish his cake.

“While I love the sound of our precious Y/N laughter but we all know there is only one person that can really make her laugh.” Robert said and you literally felt your stomach drop when you heard Sebastian crack his knuckles.

You didn’t know why nor could you explain it but Sebastian could somehow tickle you worse than anyone else for some reason and he was a master at teasing you too. So when you saw him slowly get out of his chair and make his way over to you, you were already nervously giggling and trying to squirm out of Chris’s grip.

“I’m gonna to get youuuu.” Sebastian sang with a menacing grin on his face. “Uh oh, is Y/N scared of a visit with the tickle monster.” He continued to torment you and he hadn’t even tickled you yet.

You curled up and tried to kick him away since your legs weren’t pinned down by anyone.

“What do you know? She still has a little fight in her.” He chuckled as he wrestled both of your legs back down to the ground. “I can fix that.”

“Seb, I love you.” You tried your sweetness on him hoping for a better result than you had with Tom.

“I love you too Y/N, but I I also love your laugh.” He said as he slowly wiggles his fingers at you but not quite tickling you yet.

That didn’t matter though since the anticipation got to you and you still broke out into giggles. “Dohohohnt do thahahahat.” You giggled while Sebastian continued to play with you.

“But this too much fun.” He stated simply. “But not as fun as this.” He sang as he started to squeeze right below your rib cage and you let out an animal like scream while frantically kicking you legs. “Oh come on it can’t be that bad, I’m barely even doing anything. Maybe I need to put a little more pressure.” He continued to torment you and you laughed harder and started kicking your legs more frantically than before.

“NOHOHOHOHOHO!” You screamed. Seb knew the most torturous way to tickle you in each and every one of your multiple tickle spots, but your ribcage was your most ticklish spot and produced everyone’s favorite laughter. Thankfully, Seb stopped to let you breath, but you knew the worst was coming. He’s never quit this early and you had a bad feeling he wouldn’t start now.

“Hey Evans. Do you think Y/N has all of her ribs?” Seb asked Evans.

“No no no no no! They are all there, I promise.” You cried.

“Well we better make sure.” He responded. You tried your hardest to twist you hips to get Seb off of you and pull at your arms so you could break free. Although you were up against Captain American and the Winter Solider, you didn’t stand a chance.

You felt Seb curl his thumb and pointer finger into your lowest rib. You tensed from the first of many horrific ticklish feelings shoot through your body. He quickly squeezed the flesh in-between each rib. You shrieked and started to laugh uncontrollably and desperately. “One.” Seb sang as he then moved up into the next space. “Two.” He continued to sing as he worked his way up your ribcage inflicting torturous torment.

Once he finally made it to the top, he smiled down at you. “Now as fun as that was, it still didn’t produce our favorite laughter.” Seb smirked down at you. He wasted no time and used his devilish fingers to shake your ribs.

You broke out into deep belly laughter, which warmed everyones heart, as you had no fight left in you. All you could do is lay there and take it, you stopped pulling on your arms and kicking your legs. Through your tear filled eyes you saw Seb smiling fondly at you.

You lost track of time while Seb continued to shake your ribs but eventually you stopped laughing which was his cue to stop. Once he did you brought in as much air as you could while still giggling at the same time. He quickly brought you up in his arms and started peppering kisses all over your face making you break out into giggles again.

You were weakly pushing his chest and his face. “No more.”

“Okay okay.” Sebastian chuckled pulling you into his lap as everyone continued to talk about the great memories that had on set throughout the years.

#tickle #Tickling #ticklish #tickle tickle #tickles #tickle ticklish #ticklish!reader #ler!tom #ler!chris #ler!sebastian #marvel tickle #tickle marvel #marvel tickle fic #mcu tickle #tickle mcu #mcu x reader #mcu tickle fic

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vicunaburger · 4 years

Text

Last Train Home

My dear friends @clairjohnson and @hoodoo12 and I too it upon ourselves to challenge each other in friendly writing prompt exercise! The loose prompt of "jealous and possessive Keatlejuice where the boy goes feral" was the theme.

Please enjoy! And please go check out their fics here and here!

This fic is dark because movie!Beetlejuice is not a nice guy.

Fandom: Beetlejuice (1988) Pairing: Beetlejuice x Reader Word Count: 2,539 Warnings: M for Mature Content, Blood, Detailed Violence, and Smut

Last Train Home

The muffled clacking of the train tracks blended with the beat of the song blaring from your headphones, your head bobbing in time with the rhythm a bit mindlessly.

People entered and exited the train car, barely paying attention to anyone else around them, keeping their heads buried in their phones to avoid eye contact with another human. It was always a long ride from your office to your small neighborhood station, but there was something fun about being the only person left by the time your stop was called.

Well, the only living person.

If you were feeling particularly anxious after a long day at the office, you had a direct line to the best tension reliever this side of the mortal coil. It was a mutual arrangement between the two of you; he was always looking for an excuse to traipse around the mortal realm for a while, and in return you had gotten - you couldn’t resist the pun - otherworldly sexual gratification. Nevermind the fact you were getting pleasured by a man who perpetually looked like he crawled fresh out the earth every time you summoned him; he might have been just on this side of rotting corpse, but that was a moot point when his face was firmly buried between your legs for hours on end.

You had arranged a meeting this very evening for that express purpose and could already feel the warmth spreading down your neck into your stomach at the thought of being alone with him at the next station. With a glance across the car, you spotted him, bouncing his past-their-prime boots on the floor impatiently, his head bent low under the brim of his hat. He was unassuming as anyone else without his garish striped suit; just another passenger along for the ride, his hands tucked into the pockets of his long, heavy coat.

A glint of yellow caught your attention, his dark-rimmed eyes somehow catching the flickering fluorescent bulb in the corner, staring at you with nothing less than hunger. Feeling bold, your tongue darted out to lick at your top row of teeth in response, pleased when he shifted in his seat at the display.

You could be frisky when the mood struck you.

Turning your attention back to the music in your headphones, you leaned your head back against the window, feeling the train begin to slow down to a stop. Per usual the last straggling passengers of your route were heading for the doors, ready to depart for the night.

Unlike most nights, a few new passengers entered the train car before the doors slid shut, stumbling forward and grasping onto the poles for balance. Three - well dressed - but clearly inebriated businessmen were talking far too loud for the small space the occupied, breaking through the noise of your contained music. You could almost feel the irritation vibrating off your companion in the far corner, knowing he had planned to jump you the moment the train started to move.

You gave him a non-committal shrug, to which he responded by grumbling loudly and sinking down into his seat.

The men on the train were jabbering on about something or another; not really holding your attention until one of them wobbled his way over to stand in front of your seat. He cleared his throat loudly, reaching down and tapping the earpiece of your headphones.

Startled, you looked up, grimacing when you noticed just how close he was standing over you. Needless to say, it was more than a little awkward to get an eyeful of some stranger’s crotch up close.

“Hey…” The man slurred, turning back toward the other two and shushing them as they snickered at him. “Shut up! Lemme talk…”

You moved one of the earpieces backward, setting it behind your ear, “…you mind?”

“Nah nah, I don’t mind. Don’t mind talking to you, sexy.” He continued, unaware of your tone. “I see no rings on your fingers, baby. Poor thing like you shouldn’t be alone on this big, scary train. When do you get off?”

“…at my stop.” Frowning, you put your headphones back into place.

Undeterred, he reached down and lifted the device off of your head, “Do ya… wanna get off now?”

Before you could reply, the man was thrown backward against the opposite side of the car, crashing into the seats with a pained groan. Instead of a stranger, you found yourself staring up at one ghostly guide: casually standing there with one hand in his pocket, the other holding your headphones. He seemed rather calm, but you knew what was bubbling beneath the surface.

“What the fuck, man?” One of the men went over to help their friend up, while the other started advancing on Beetlejuice.

Beetlejuice held up a finger, signaling the man to wait while he turned toward you with a frown, “Babycakes, these pricey?”

He waved the headphones around, and you nodded head in response, “Too expensive for my own good.”

“Perfecto.” Was all he said before he started.

The man who had paused his advancement was first, the ghost barreling forward into him like a quarterback on the field, jamming his free hand deep into the man’s stomach and dragging him down the length of the train car. You could hear the ribs cracking as they tried to support the full weight of his body, Beej’s full hand buried into the man’s chest, tossing him into one of the corner seats. Feebly, the man tried to stem the flow of blood that spilled from the wound, but it was ultimately useless; his screams of agony amplified by the metallic siding on the walls.

The two other men noticed their friend in peril, but could do little to help him. Beetlejuice grabbed the second man by the scruff of his collar, sweeping his leg underneath him to lay him flat on the floor.

“I would’a told ya there’s no hard feelings, but I’d be lying.” Beej lifted his boot, giving the man a swift kick to the face, a few teeth scattering.

As much as you wanted to look away, you couldn’t; transfixed by the ease at which he inflicted such pain on these unlucky strangers. This wasn’t the first time you’d been subjected to his carnage, his lust for bio-exorcising as he was want to call it. This man - creature? - had the ability to truly cause mass chaos and destruction during a spout of boredom; and yet not once did you ever feel threatened.

No, you felt pride.

A sick, unhealthy pride that you could have this man doting on you at a moment’s notice. Little things reserved for behind closed doors. A small touch when you weren’t paying attention, walking arm in arm when no one was around late nights in the park, and he even brought food for you on several occasions. It wasn’t gourmet, but it was edible.

But now? Now he was a beast let slip from his collar.

Beetlejuice had the man who approached you on all fours, his nails digging into the back of the man’s head as he held him down, “Listen, when a fine lookin’ lady tells you to fuck off, you fuck off. Comprendo? This girl is mine. M-I-N-E. Don’t need jackoffs like you sniffin’ around her skirt like a dog, ya hear me?”

The man babbled something through his terror, and you gave him a hard stare, “I’d answer him, if I were you.”

BJ lifted the man’s head up, shifting him over a few seats down from where you sat, prying his jaw open and forcing him to bite the edge of the hard, plastic bench.

“Babes, you feel he learned a lesson?” He asked, smiling with a mouthful of jagged teeth.

After a long pause, you shook your head, “No.”

With a satisfied chuckle, he winked at you, “Ah, that’s why I love ya, baby. Ya know just how to make me smile.”

Taking a half step back, Beetlejuice jumped up, grabbing onto the bar near the top of the train car, using it like a pullup bar at a jungle gym. With a garish “yee-haw”, he let go of the bar, planting both boots on the man’s skull, cracking his jaw wide open with a loud squelch.

The force of the blow sent blood spraying everywhere, much more than all those horror movies would lead you to believe. As the spray coated a good portion of the left side of your body, your mind recalled a summer in your early years, and a particularly hostile water balloon fight. Similar feeling, morbid as it was; at least you had the forethought to turn your head to avoid getting any of the stranger’s blood on your face.

“Whoa. Split like a rotten tomato, didn’ expect it.” Beetlejuice chuckled, kicking over the body with amusement. “Must’a been rotten all inside.”

You didn’t respond to him right away, taking a moment to examine the damage done to your clothing. It would all have to be destroyed, of course, but it was a small price to pay for the security of knowing you wouldn’t be traced back to the murder of three random people.

“Aw, darlin’, dont’cha worry about your fancy duds. You know ol’BJ will fix you right up with something special.” He reached down, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze with his bloody hand. “But first, we gotta get out of here, ya know?”

So much for keeping your face clean.

Blinking slowly, your gaze flicked around to the three bodies prone on the ground, before the train seemed to melt away around the both of you like a Dali painting. When you could focus again, you were back in your own apartment, sitting on the edge of your bed, with Beetlejuice looming over you with an odd look on his face. His hand squeezed your jaw tightly, his thumb smearing around the blood on your cheek.

“Ya know… I don’t wantcha takin’ the train anymore. Fact, don’t wantcha going much of anywhere alone anymore. What if I wouldn’a been there? Huh? You comin’ home smellin’ like cheap booze and bad aftershave from their dirty paws all over you? Nah, not happening.” His nails, chipped and unkept, were biting into your skin the longer he spoke. “No girlie of mine is gonna be dirty before she gets to me.”

You shook your head, trying to dislodge him, “Yours? When did you feel the need to take ownership? Feelin’s are wasted on the dead. Did I mishear you all those times? Oh, suddenly you’re a knight in shining armor when other men are watching-”

He growled, shoving his thumb into your mouth, pressing on your tongue to stop you from talking. You almost gagged at the taste of iron and grave dirt, but you obeyed the silent command, keeping still and trying desperately not to think about the fact it was someone else’s blood on his hands. As much as you hated yourself in that moment, you were more than willing to what he wanted of you. Just hearing him call you his… you were embarrassingly turned on despite the violence that preceded it.

Such a small act of compliance told him all he needed to know, as it always did. Laughing, he pulled you up by the jaw, forcing you to stand awkwardly between him and the edge of the bed. Removing his hand from your face, his tongue took the place of his thumb, crushing his mouth against your own. It was a dizzying, sloppy mess of a kiss, your lungs already burning with the need for air within moments. The mossy, earth taste of him was familiar, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t an unpleasant thing at first. It was like sour candy; it bit your tongue like acid, but you were always hungry for more.

There was no pretense to this encounter, no soft touches and foreplay; you both wanted each other right then and damned be the consequences. With a spin of his body, you were against the bedroom wall, his hand already tugging impatiently at the zipper of your jeans, while you scrambled to help him slide them over your hips and down your legs. Once free, he pried your legs apart with his knee, keeping you pinned to the wall with a hand on your throat. Beetlejuice’s other hand unzipped his own fly, not bothering with anything beyond freeing his own arousal from the within the confines of his trousers.

He was mumbling something you couldn’t understand, suddenly miles away as his teeth bit at your jaw, positioning himself with a practiced ease between your legs. You dug your fingernails into that ratty coat of his when sheathed himself inside you, the impact of his hard length impaling you knocking all air from your lungs. You let out a scream at the painful sting, but you had known this wasn’t going to be comfortable. That wasn’t the point.

Your eyes fell shut when he picked up his pace and rutted into you like a possessed animal, focused on keeping himself as deep within you as he could. He knew exactly how to thrust into you to make you squirm, but there was something different about him. He was near crushing you with his body, not wanting any part of you to be untouched by his larger form.

“Goddamn… fuckin’… jackoffs…” BJ was mumbling again, his long tongue running along your jaw, “Yer mine. My damn thing. They… gonna’ know… they’ll see ya… so full up.”

“What?” You managed to gasp, desperately fighting for air.

“Mine!” He growled in response, removing his hand from your neck to bury it into your hair.

Sharp pain rippled through you when he bit down on the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a nasty bruise. It clicked with you right then… he wasn’t just doing this for himself, he was maddened with lust for you. Because you belonged to him.

Beej sped up even more, shuddering and breathing heavily when he neared his climax. He was fucking you relentlessly; repeating mine over and over again. With a few more agitated thrusts, he tossed himself over the edge, burying himself as deep inside you as he possibly could as he came, his hard member coating your tight walls, throbbing and pulsing inside you.

A moderate sense of satisfaction spread in your entire body, even though you hadn’t gotten off during the quick encounter. He went still, his softening length still inside of you, and rested his forehead against yours.

“You’ve always been mine.” He replied, an unexpectedly soft tone to his voice, his hand giving your hair a playful tug. “And ya’ know it.”

You weren’t going to disagree with him.

In fact, you were relieved when he acted possessively toward you on the train, having worried for a long time that anything between you had been one sided. Despite his obvious shortcomings, he was good company. He was a good fuck too, but that was just icing on the cake.

“Could’ve just told me.” You mumbled.

“Oh, quit’cher bitching. You liked it.”

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice movie #beetlejuice 1988 #beetlejuice x reader #writing time

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glacecakes · 4 years

Text

Revenge is Sweet but You're Sweeter

Andrew kidnaps Hugo to get back at Varian.

Warning for blood, torture, general violence. Nothing too graphic. GOD THIS TOOK FUCKING FOREVER TO GET OUT. Basically my cat had a cancer scare and my depression is at an all time high so I was unable to get anything done. I wasn't happy with this fic for most of it until I sat my ass down and said I Will Finish This If It Kills Me. I'm still not THRILLED with this piece but it's finished and fuck it it's done i'm DONE I HAVE DEADLINES.

Hugo’s vision blurred into existence after a few blinks. As far as he could tell, he was trapped in some old barn, arms trapped behind his back. He flexed, tugging at the restraints on his hands. The ropes burned his wrists, but they didn’t budge. His legs scrambled in an attempt to stand, but it didn’t work, and he was stuck still on the floor. His eyes scanned the vicinity, trying to gauge his surroundings.

“What the…” he mumbled. His eyes blinked asynchronously as he struggled to focus.

How the heck did this even happen?

The last thing Hugo remembered was that he was talking to Nuru and Yong, sharing some hot cocoa while Varian got some more firewood. They were talking about Varian’s unusually anxious behavior as of late. He was already an anxious guy, but ever since he got a letter from home, he’d been a wreck. He started looking over his shoulder constantly and even sleeping with a weapon by his side. And anytime any of the three asked, Varian would abruptly change the subject.

“What if we all asked him about it? Like, at once?” Yong asked.

Hugo bit his lip. If he were in Varian’s position, he wouldn’t want to spill. He doesn’t want his position compromised, and Varian likely didn’t want the same done to him.

That’s what he told himself, anyway. He definitely did not have a crush on Varian and wanted to keep Varian as close as possible for as long as possible.

He moved to object, but Nuru and raised her mug in agreement.

“When he gets back, we’ll confront him. Something’s bothering him, and we’re his friends. We only want to help.”

Help, or bother? To Hugo it felt like they were too nosy for their own good, and were excusing it as concern. But hey what did he know. Not like he had many friends before them. He’d thrown back the cocoa in quiet acceptance, said goodnight to the others… and now…

Moonlight filtered in through the barn’s broken windows and decaying roof, seeping into every crack and filling the room with shadows.

A shadow from which a man stepped out.

His hair was slightly greasy, yet kept in an immaculate bun. A long, well-groomed beard did little to hide the feral grin on his face. He sauntered across creaking floors, circling around the teen like a shark. He carried a sword which left imprints on the floorboards,

Hugo puffed his chest up in defense. He wasn’t going to be intimidated by this… kidnapper? Assailant? Whatever he was he looked like a jerk.

“Finally you’re all awake. I was worried I’d used too much.”

“Too much?”

“Sleeping powder. Just sprinkled it into your water supply when you weren’t looking. Child’s play, really.” The man laughed, resuming his pacing.

Hugo cursed internally. He let his guard down and paid the price. Being with the trio of hooligans he called friends made him soft, as Donella would’ve said. How long had this man been following them? How long had he waited to strike, judging them and gauging every opportunity, deciding that tonight was perfect to attack mere teens? He just hoped the other three were safe.

Wait, no. Don’t think that. Remember Hugo, you don’t care about them. They’re a means to an end.

As Hugo’s eyes adjusted to the dim barn, he began to notice more silhouettes creeping in the dark. They slowly joined their comrade, as if summoned. They were of varying shapes and sizes, age and creed. They were dressed too poorly to be bounty hunters, looking more like weary travellers. Further back, near a large hole in the barn roof, was a hot air balloon. It was likely how the teen was transported here. A floorboard splintered under the largest man’s weight.

“Who are you?” Hugo barked. “What do you want with me?”

“You mean your friend never mentioned us?” A short woman asked, stepping up to him and patting his head in mock sympathy. “You poor sheep, travelling with a wolf.”

He recoiled at her touch, nose scrunching up and eyes screwing shut. Her hot breath tickled the strands of hair on his neck.

“We are the separatists of Saporia. I’m the leader, Andrew.” The man bowed. “I hope you don’t mind that we… borrowed you for the evening?”

Ah, Saporia. Something about rebels against Corona, right? Varian had mentioned them in passing once. His face had screwed into pure disgust at seeing a crest painted on a wall in Bayagnor.

“Pricks,” He’d muttered, throwing a goo bomb to destroy the paint.

Likely this guy had beef with Donella, which meant it was up to Hugo to get himself out of here safely. He wondered what she did to earn this anger.

“Yea sure, love getting kidnapped by washed up Coronans,” Hugo snapped, bracing for the inevitable smack that followed. The other kidnappers laughed at his pain. He’d seen this scenario many times under Donella. Sometimes he was the victim, sometimes he was the instigator. But it always worked the same. Those who tried to play the hero, those who tried to resist, they always got the worst of the treatment.

Sure enough, Andrew snapped his fingers, and his cronies descended.

“Hope you don’t mind, we have to… prepare you for our guest of honor.”

How long did he sit there, taking hit after hit? They were never intense, rather a series of mildly painful blows that built up over time. Andrew refused to let his compatriots hurt him too much.

“He needs to stay alive and intact.” He said. “Save the broken bones for our dear old friend.”

That didn’t stop any of it from hurting. It didn’t stop the blood that trickled down his nose from a particularly nasty punch, nor the stinging of Andrew’s knife across his back. One eye was beginning to swell shut, and his ribs, while not broken, still ached from repetitive kicks. Individually, it was nothing Hugo couldn’t handle. But combined, the wounds were starting to wear him down.

He never let it show though. If his tormentors got wind of his breaking will, they’d mock him to no end. He had to keep his chin up and show he was better than them. That’s what Don taught him, anyway. Either play up the child act and gain their pity, or stay determined. But above all, never give away information.

He never played hero normally. But then again, he was usually the youngest, the favorite. Donella would let heads roll if her cronies let Hugo suffer when they could take the hit. It was her way of showing she cared, in a twisted way.

In this scenario, he had to be the hero. There would be no sympathy shown, there hadn’t been so far. No, he’d have to figure this out on his own. Yong and Nuru could come save him, sure, but he didn’t want them to risk it. Not that he cared about them or anything! It was just… they were likely to fail. Right?

Oh who was he kidding. Hugo didn’t want to get the others involved.

Responsiblity sucked. How does Varian do it?

BANG!

“ANDREW!”

Speak of the devil.

The door to the barn was blasted open, revealing Varian filled with a fury the likes of which the other had never seen. His eyes were wild, pupils like pin pricks. He rapidly scanned the area, softening only slightly when he saw Hugo was alive, only to reignite to even further anger when he saw Hugo’s current state. His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, indicating he ran here.

Andrew spread his arms wide, greeting Varian like he was visiting for dinner, as opposed to holding his friend hostage. “You made it! I was worried you didn’t get my message.”

Varian held up a piece of paper. The words were impossible to make out from afar, but the implications sent shivers down the spine. “I got your note.” He growled, crumpling the paper in one hand and tossing it to the floor. “Now what do you want?” His voice was venom.

It sounded a lot like Donella, in Hugo’s opinion.

Andrew’s companions slinked ever closer, forming a semi circle behind the prisoner, while Andrew saunted up close to Varian.

To say Hugo was shocked was an understatement. He’d never seen raw fury like that from the normally awkward and intelligent alchemist. And apparently he knew this guy, which meant it was not about getting revenge on Donella.

What had Varian done to get himself an enemy like this?

“Oh come on, I can’t say hi to an old friend?”

“We are not friends. ”

“We were, at some point.” Andrew hummed, wrapping an arm around Varian. “Such a shame. And I think you know what I want.” The younger was as tense as a stone. He sent a death glare up at the man and didn’t answer the question.

He patted Varian’s cheek condescendingly. It was a facsimile of the constant, warm touches of home. Varian wanted to throw up.

Varian grit his teeth, shoving Andrew off and backing up towards his friends. A hand slipped into his pocket, preparing to throw down a bomb, but one of the goons surged forward. His broad muscles pinned Varian to the floor, cheek falling with a loud smack. The bomb rolled across the floor.

He flailed his feet, akin to a rabid animal, but it was no use. The man drug Varian to the wall where previously unnoticed shackles glinted in the moonlight. Each cuff was wrapped around Varian’s wrists. He pulled, able to get about a meter away from the wall, but that was as far as it let him.

"Oh come on," Andrew said, circling around Varian like a snake ready to swallow its prey. "You act like you’re all mature now, but I’ve seen the real you. Deep down, you're still the same naive, evil brat I met in prison."

Prison? When did Varian go to prison?

Varian's body shook with fury. "I am nothing like you." He growled.

"Are you sure about that? Didn't you do the same thing I did?" He fiddled with a knife, getting into Varian's personal space and dragging the weapon down Varian's cheek. "We both wanted something, so we kidnapped the one our target holds dear. And we both threatened to kill them if they didn't cooperate."

Hugo felt his insides turn to ice.

“I want,” Andrew whispered, leaning up to Varian’s face, hot breath ghosting across his cheeks. “For you to suffer.”

Varian met his friend’s gaze, and his body shook with barely hidden disgust. He’d let Andrew hurt the ones he loved once before, he’ll be damned if he lets it happen again. From the looks of it though, he was too late. Guilt and anger bubbled in his stomach like a volcano.

“Don’t worry, goggles,” Hugo said, keeping his voice steady. “I’ve had way worse. Trust me, it’s like kitten scratches.”

Varian’s eyes twinkled with unshed tears, yet he smiled, bunny teeth peeking out from between his lips. “You look like shit.” A faint blush spread across his cheeks. Even now, covered in bruises and blood, Hugo still managed to take Varian’s breath away.

If we get out of this, he vowed to himself, I’m going to tell him how I feel.

For a brief moment, he glanced down at his hands, and then back up at Hugo. The older teen followed with his eyes and allowed a small smile.

A bobby pin.

He put his hands behind his back, to prevent anyone from seeing.

Distract him, Varian mouthed.

How? Hugo hissed back.

Varian shrugged. The older alchemist rolled his eyes.

“Hey Andy, was it?” Hugo raised his head to stare Andrew down. He let a familiar facade slide into place. “Ya mind explaining why I’m here?”

Varian’s eyes widened, and he banged his head against the wall in frustration. Not like that! He thought.

“Like I get that he’s here to suffer or whatever,” He raised his eyebrows to imitate quotation marks. “But uh. I don’t get why you need me. Maybe I’m just not smart enough to understand your plan.”

It was a cheap shot, appealing to the ego, but it did the trick. Andrew seemed like the type to gloat and monologue, and sure enough, he slunk across the room towards Hugo, a pep in his step.

“See, it’s quite simple, really. Varian here… well. He hurt us a while back.” Varian rolled his eyes, but made no comment. With the attention off of him, he picked at the lock. The soft clinks of the metal were easily ignored.

“For a while, I thought that if I ever saw him again, I’d make good on my promise, and splatter his body on the ruins of Corona.”

“Yea good luck with that last bit.” Hugo rolled his eyes. “So what, I was just bait?”

“Oh no,” Andrew’s grin was near maniacal. “We figured death was too light of a punishment. No. If there’s one thing the kid never shut up about, it’s family. Oh, I love my dad, ooh I can’t wait until we find a way to free him, ooh those darn royals tore my family apart blah blah blah. So what better torture…”

He slashed Hugo’s cheek with the knife. Blood oozed out the cut as Hugo hissed in pain. From the corner of his eye he saw Varian flinch, arms shaking as he tried to pick the locks faster.

“...Than to force him to watch us kill the ones he loves most?”

The word love and Hugo were not commonly used together, let alone when talking about Varian. And yet… Hugo’s stomach fluttered at the idea. He was a loved one? It seemed almost impossible, but he could see the frantic energy Varian exuded as he tried to work as quietly and discreetly as possible.

No, he probably just means friend… right?

What if he doesn’t, a traitorous voice whispered. What if it’s exactly what you think it means?

He couldn’t help it. “Varian?” He asked, voice soft.

The younger alchemist gave him a sheepish smile, hiding his hands behind his back.

A mental war was raging in Varian’s head. Every fiber of his being screamed to save Hugo, go to him, protect him, but he couldn’t do that while cuffed. The only way to save Hugo was to keep the attention off himself and solely on Hugo. He couldn’t let Andrew see what he was doing.

“Aw, how sweet,” Andrew crooned. He leveled the sword and Hugo’s chin, redirecting his gaze. His soft expression morphed into a scowl of defiance.

With the sword still at his jaw, Andrew shoved his fist into Hugo’s stomach. The wind was knocked out of him, but Hugo kept his head steady. Any sudden movements could mean he bled out.

Varian let out a whine.

He had to focus.

After a few more seconds, the first cuff was open.

“Trying to play it cool, huh?” Andrew stood to his full height, dropping the sword. He loomed over Hugo and grit his teeth. The man was no longer in a playing mood. He wanted Varian to suffer, and by god the kid was gonna suffer sooner rather than later.

He raised his boot, and slammed the toe into Hugo’s face with a crunch . His glasses cracked on impact. His head hit the wooden beam with enough force to rattle his skull.

Andrew gripped his neck and squeezed. The air escaped Hugo in a rush and he moaned in protest.

Varian couldn’t suppress the scream that pushed its way out. The still intact chain rattled with his tugs.

“Andrew please,” His voice shook on the second word. “Let him go. It’s me you hate.”

“Did you not listen? You’re a smart kid, Varian. I’m going to kill him, and then I’m going to kill everyone else you love. ” His fingers tightened around Hugo’s neck, and he turned back to the older teen.

Hugo’s vision was darkening. “Varian,” He wheezed.

The second cuff snapped off.

And Varian lunged.

With an inhuman cry, he toppled Andrew, sending the man sprawling onto the floor. They rolled onto the floor until Varian was on top. Quick as a flash, he grabbed the discard sword and put it to Andrew’s neck.

Hugo gasped for breath, coughing as sweet air filled his lungs. He blinked the dark spots out of his eyes.

The other Saporians ran to help their leader, but faltered at the sword.

“Stay back!” Varian screamed. He pushed it deeper into Andrew’s neck, nearly drawing blood. “Release him!” He ordered. “Let Hugo go or I kill him right here, right now!”

“You wouldn’t,” Andrew snarled. Varian’s glare pierced his very soul, and the furious teen smacked him across the face.

Damn that felt good.

The last time Varian had been this angry… god, it might’ve been when he was 14. When he saw how happy Rapunzel was with her family, while his own suffered, while he withered away and turned to ash.

The Saporians were quick to obey, one of the taller men untying Hugo. He slid down the pole, grabbing at his throat with his now free hands. His wrists were stained red with ropeburn.

Slowly, he stood to his feet on shaky legs, leaning against the pillar for support.

Satisfied, Varian turned back to Andrew, who was smiling.

“What are you so happy about?” the alchemist hissed.

Andrew laughed. “You really haven’t changed a bit.”

Varian’s eyes narrowed. He slammed the hilt of the sword into Andrew’s head, and the man fell unconscious. He stood off of him.

The other separatists did nothing. They knew what he was capable of. Without any leverage, without their leader, it was a losing battle. Especially now that Hugo was free.

Pointing the sword at the Saporians, he said, “Next time, I won’t let you guys go alive.” He slammed it down into the floorboards with a huff.

“Now get out of my sight.”

The walk back to the campsite was quiet for the most part.

Hugo was leaning on Varian heavily, one arm wrapped around Varian’s neck and the other clutching at his waist. Everytime he staggered or tripped, Varian’s grip tightened ever so slightly.

His eyes were stone cold, but never directed at Hugo. If he saw Hugo looking, Varian’s eyes softened, glittering under the stars. It was nearing daybreak. The smoke from their campsite was now visible.

The tents came into view, and Hugo’s entire form sagged in relief. He was so ready to drop into bed and not wake up for 12 hours, but he needed medical care.

Nuru and Yong had long gone to bed, blissfully unaware of what had transpired. The next hour was quiet as well, Varian silently tending to the most serious ones. It was a tender moment, their own little world. A bubble that would be broken by speaking. So for now, Hugo was silent. He let Varian dab at the blood under his nose, let him remove his glasses for safekeeping, let his breath trail over Hugo’s cheeks as they both blushed.

At last, the worst was over.

“So…” Hugo finally said. “That was… something.”

Varian snorted. “Understatement.”

“We gonna talk about what just happened? Any of it?”

“Which parts do you want to talk about?”

Hugo hummed. “I mean I’d like to know what the fuck that guy was…” Varian turned green. “But not right now.”

Varian breathed a sigh of relief. “Then, what?”

Hugo bit his lip, preparing for the worst. “You love me…?”

“Oh…” Varian’s face lit up bright red. His eyes averted, looking anywhere but Hugo. “I-I mean… maybe not love… not yet at least. Not that I hate you! No, I…” He winced. “I… like you. A lot.” He moaned. “That was the worst confession ever please stab me now.”

Hugo laughed. He couldn’t help it. After everything that had happened today, from kidnapping to torture to this , it was so overwhelming and horrible and also so perfect.

“How about, instead of that…” He said. “I uh… say I feel the same? Not love yet, I don’t think but… if you wanna try and get to that point?”

The sun rose behind Varian as he smiled. “I’d like that a lot.”

#tangled #varian #tangled the series #varigo #varian and the seven kingdoms #varian and the seven kingdoms au #hugo the human #tts #tts varian

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ve1vetyoongi · 4 years

Text

Operation: Love Letters | 04

💌 CHAPTER INDEX 💌

♡ ⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader.

♡ ⇢ chapter word count: 7k

♡ ⇢ genre: mystery, college!au, romance, fluff, eventual smut.

♡ ⇢ warnings/rating: none, PG

♡ ⇢ summary: When every student on campus is going crazy about a survey that claims to make true love bloom, your best friend manages to convince you to join in on the fun — except you’re disappointed to find out that your results just seem to be lost causes. That is until a love letter from a mysterious secret admirer turns up and you find yourself on a mission to find the person behind the pen — but you quickly realise it’s going to be a lot harder than you initially thought when you have 7 possible bachelors to investigate, right? Operation: Love Letters a-go!

♡ ⇢ schedule: updated every day at 5pm GMT in the run up to Valentine’s Day 2020!

"I'm having second thoughts about this." You whine as Jimin fishes around in his leather waist bag for a pen so he can scribble your names down under KISSERS on the fundraiser sign up sheet. "What if my admirer doesn't even turn up? Or worse, what someone kisses me and I get sick and then I die before I can uncover their identity?"

Jimin just rolls his eyes, already finished dotting the I's in his name with tiny hearts before he slips his arm through yours and drops his head on to your shoulder as you walk across campus.

"Taehyung got totally suspicious when he found out you were signing up for the kissing booth. So, he knows you're gonna be here. What's stopping him from coming?"

"We don't know if he is my admirer yet." You point out. "Their name was ripped off, remember?"

"Well why else would he have had that letter in his backpack? It doesn't take much to read between the lines. Don't deep it too much. Besides, I've already started an intense lip treatment so I'm ready for the big day!" He smacks his lips with a wink and you can't help but scoff.

"Hey! You're supposed to be focused on finding my admirer not making out with every student on campus!"

"What? A guy can't even have some fun around here anymore?" Jimin tugs on his satchel with a dreamy look in his eyes. "Besides, who knows? Maybe I'll find an admirer of my own!"

"I just wish the note hadn't been ripped right where my admirer wrote his name." You sigh. "That would've made this whole thing a lot easier."

"Sure, but in a way it's a good sign. The fact that he signed his name at all suggests that he wants to be found, so I'll bet he's gonna turn up at the kissing booth for real."

You shake your head, already nervous. "You better be right."

Jimin just sends you a wink. "When am I ever wrong?"

"Okay, I was wrong." Jimin murmurs, nerves evident in his tone as you elbow your way to the front of the crowd that has formed outside the gym. "Maybe this was a bad idea."

The kissing booth is a small wooden shack set up in the middle of the gymnasium, surrounded by red foil balloons in the shape of hearts and jars of pink jellybeans and bouquets of chocolate covered strawberries. The air is fragrant with the red roses that are scattered by the dozen along the path leading up to none other than Kim Seokjin, who stands on a stepladder as he adds the finishing touches to a sign labelled with prices in chalk, from 5 cents for a kiss on the cheek to 5 dollars for a make-out.

When he sees you emerging from the crowd his face breaks out into a beaming grin and he rushes over to pull you both into a bear hug. "I knew I could count on you two to come along! The other kisser's pulled out last minute, so you guys are gonna have to work extra hard today!"

"What?" Jimin exclaims. "The two of us have to kiss all of these people?"

Before Seokjin can open his mouth to let out a reassuring excuse, a familiar head of blonde hair stuffed messily beneath a baseball cap rounds the corner.

"Dude, Taehyung popped another one of the balloons, d'ya got any spares..." Yoongi calls, before stopping like a dead weight when he sees you standing there. He offers you a confused but friendly wave. "Oh hey, Y/N."

"Yoongi? What are you doing here?"

"Seokjin paid me twenty dollars to man the tip jar." He explains, opening a nearby pot and pouring a handful of pink bubblegum into his mouth despite the distasteful look Seokjin sends him. Yoongi just shrugs and slumps down onto the stool behind the booth, flashing Seokjin a look of his own. "He didn't mention that slave labour would be involved, though."

"Yoongi? Did you get more balloons—"

None other than Taehyung skips around the corner holding a bunch of pink balloons, stumbling gracelessly like a crazed, blue haired bowling ball into your form in his haste.

"Taehyung, too? What are you doing here?" Jimin narrows his eyes, and nudges you in the ribs with a knowing wink. Way to not be suspicious, you think. "Are you here to perhaps...kiss a special someone?"

"Me? No! Uh...just...helping!" Taehyung stammers, avoiding Jimin's gaze like the plague while jumping foot to foot nervously and managing to somehow pop one of the balloons in his grip which falls to the ground limply. He flashes you a sheepish smile. "See, helping..."

"He's definitely being sketchy." Jimin whispers in your ear as Yoongi rolls his eyes and ties the balloons to the booth where Taehyung can't accidentally destroy any more of them. "Look at how much he's sweating!"

"I think the real question is, why are you guys here?" Yoongi nods towards the coordinating pink jumpsuits Jimin has convinced you to wear because they were Valentine's appropriate. "Didn't think you did a lot of charity work."

"I like charity work!" You insist, though Yoongi just raises an eyebrow unconvinced, nodding his head when your true motive slips out. "But truth is I'm trying to find my secret admirer. It's just I didn't think there would be so many people..."

Yoongi follows your gaze out over the line of people waiting to get a kiss from the booth, face after indistinguishable face buzzing with excitement until they disappear around the corner, probably getting longer as the minutes ticked by.

"How do you even know if the guy is here or not?" Yoongi points out. "This could be a waste of time."

"I don't know." You shrug. "I guess I'll know when I see them?"

"How?" Taehyung suddenly interjects. All eyes fall on him and he turns sheepish, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I mean how do you know if someone is in love with you just by looking at them? Can you tell?"

Jimin fishes for his phone, pulling up a website and holding it out to Taehyung and Yoongi who read through it curiously. "I looked online and apparently there's, like, a ton of body language cues to tell if someone's in love with you. Like if they touch you a lot, or their pupils get bigger when they look at you, or they save you from harms way—"

"So Y/N should just throw herself in front of a car and see if her knight in shining armour shows up to save her?" Yoongi scoffs, handing Jimin his phone back with an amused shake of his head.

"Uh, actually...about that." Seokjin pops up from behind the booth, two slips of pink silk dangling from his fingertips. He holds it up to his eyes, obscuring his vision in demonstration. "You two won't be seeing a single thing."

"What?!" You exclaim. "Seokjin, this was your idea! Why didn't you tell me we would be blindfolded before I signed up?"

"Because you know as well as me that you wouldn't have come if I told you and I needed someone actually hot to sign up for this thing if I wanted to raise our goal amount." You cross your arms and blow a piece of hair out of your face in frustration. Seokjin throws up his hands in defence. "Hey, don't look at me like that! You're our moneymaker, Y/N!"

"That's not the point! How am I supposed to find my secret admirer if I can't even see them?"

"It's okay," Jimin clamps a hand on your shoulder and turns you to face him. "If your secret admirer is here, you'll know it as soon as they kiss you." He looks off into the distance, eyes glassy as he leans in closer and drops his voice to a dreamy whisper. "It'll feel like fireworks!"

You punch him in the shoulder. "Dude, I know you're a hopeless romantic but I don't think that's how real life works."

"I think it's kinda sweet." Taehyung calls from the step ladder, stood on the top step on his tiptoes attempting to nail a sign to the wall, though his focus seems to be on Jimin as he muses over his words, seemingly to engaged to notice how he wobbled back and forth. "Hey, Yoongi are you sure you're holding the ladder steady—"

Before you know it, Taehyung is losing his footing and crashing to the ground, metal sign in tow. Your reaction time is slow and if it weren't for Yoongi who throws his body around yours and pulls you to safety, you'd be laying in a pile of crushed limbs beneath Taehyung who mumbles in pain and rubs his butt on the floor beside you.

"Woah!" Yoongi exclaims, eyes wide as they look you over to see if you're hurt. "You okay?"

"Uh...yeah." He lets out a sigh of relief, awkwardly letting you go and taking a couple steps backwards when you glance down at where his hand grips yours tightly, like he's still scared to let go. "Thanks. You really saved me, there."

That was weird, you think when Yoongi just grumbles something about it being nothing or whatever and bows his head to cover the way his cheeks burn, but Seokjin swoops in your save you before you have a chance to ask him what was up.

"Hey guys? The people are getting restless so we better get back to work and stat." Seokjin clamps one hand onto your shoulder, the other onto Jimin's, and starts to steer you towards a pile of unwrapped candies that need to be sorted by colour. "Oh, Yoongi? Could you hang that sign back up while these two get ready?"

Yoongi sends a half-assed eye roll at Seokjin as he drags himself over to the sign, and you just about get a glimpse of the scrawl on the front.

PUCKER UP FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN THE GRAND PRIZE!

You turn to Seokjin. "Grand prize? What's that?"

"Everyone who buys a ticket gets entered into a raffle for the grand prize. A kiss on the lips with the kisser of their choice! They say that if you kiss for at least 7 seconds you fall in love!" He sees your eyes widen, patting your back reassuringly and gesturing towards the crowd. "Why else do you think we had such a good turn out?"

"What's the point if they can't even see the person?" Yoongi grumbles, taking the pencil balanced behind his ear and scribbling a mark for the nail on the wall. "Seems kinda dumb."

"Isn't that the point of a secret admirer?" Seokjin huffs, producing a roll of pink tickets from his pocket and handing one to both Yoongi and Taehyung. "Tell you what, here. Both of you take one of these. On the house for all your hard work."

"Wow. I'm touched." Yoongi slides it into his pocket with a roll of his eyes but Taehyung looks down and the ticket and back up at you and Jimin again in wonder.

"Who knows? Maybe you'll win." Seokjin winks. "Now chop chop you two! Go get ready to pucker up!"

Hours pass and 78 kisses later (yes, you counted) and you still haven't felt the fireworks Jimin said you would when you and your secret admirer locked lips.

"I'm starting to think he's not coming, Jimin." You sigh, feeling around in your blindfolded state for your best friend who is busy applying hundreds of layers of lip balm to his puckered lips. "Maybe Yoongi's right and this whole thing was dumb."

"Don't give up just yet," Jimin responds, pouting his lips and crooning a finger towards the next customer. "We still have the grand prize winners to go!"

As if on cue, Seokjin jumps up onto the main stage and taps a megaphone, the sound quieting down the rumble of chit chat and budding love that lingers in the gym.

"Okay everybody, it's the moment you've all been waiting for! Time to announce the winners of the grand prize!"

The crowd let's out a unanimous cheer and you silently cross your fingers beneath the booth that the power of love was strong enough to make your secret admirer's number the winner.

Seokjin sticks his hand into a jar filled with tiny slips of paper, eyes squeezed shut as he closes his hand around the winning number. You can't see it but you can hear the triumphant grin on his lips at the ripple that runs through the crowd when he produces not one but two pieces of paper from the jar.

"Looks like the universe has spoken, and we're going to be awarding two kisses today! Could number nine and number thirty please make their way to the front of the gym and select their kisser of choice!"

The crowd erupts into applause and you hear a pair of shoes scuffle across the ground towards you, almost hesistant.

"Hey." You feel a person stop a short distance away from you, and you flash them a small smile. "Congrats!"

The person says nothing and you're about to open your mouth to ask them their name when Seokjin interjects.

"Hello? What are you waiting for? Kiss!"

The crowd starts to chant kiss! kiss! kiss! and you're suddenly overcome with nerves. What if this isn't your admirer? But then again, what will you do if it is?

A shiver runs down your spine when you feel a breath ghost across your face, and even though you're blindfolded you find your eyes falling shut in anticipation when a hesitant hand gently cups your chin. The touch is more careful than the others, a thumb rubbing soothing circles into the flushed flesh of the apple of your cheek as you stand on your tip toes to finally connect your lips to the one's hovering inches from your own.

This kiss is different. Slower, languid, careful. A plump bottom lip that slots just perfectly between your own, like it has always belonged there. A heat that sends tingles through your entire body and makes your heart race and your blood run hot as you wrap your arms around the neck of the person and then—

"7 seconds are up, dudes! Time to move along to the next person!"

Within seconds the lips are gone and you reach for them but a hand grabs your wrist and prises your hand open, placing something into your palm and then curling your fingers tightly around it. You're utterly frozen, lips tingling, as he leans in and places a single kiss to your cheek before you feel his warmth disappear all together.

Your hands shake, eyes shooting open as you rip the blindfold away.

Fireworks.

"Jimin!" You exclaim, grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him out from behind the booth much to the groaning disappointment of the growing line of customers. "I felt it. That was him! I'm sure of it!"

Jimin is touching his lips carefully, vision distant as he squeezes his eyes shut and let's out a hazy sigh of satisfaction. "Me too. I felt... fireworks!"

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go find them before they get away!"

You scan the gym with greedy eyes, immediately zoning in on two figures who are pushing their way backwards through the crowd in opposing directions. The dude to your left glances over his shoulder briefly, and you just about catch a glimpse of blue hair poking above the crowd from beneath his hood when he does.

"I'll go left, you go right!" You call to Jimin, who nods and scurries after the other figure who has already been swallowed by the crowd, and you ignore Seokjin's shouts from behind you and break into a run to catch up with your suspect.

Sharp elbows prod your ribs as you bust through the crowd, weaving through bodies that seem to come at you like obstacles whenever you get slightly too close to the boy speed walking away, until you're spat out into an empty hallway and there's no sign of him to be found.

"What the heck? Where did he go?"

The door to the lobby swings shut to your left and you speed up, zeroing in on the sound of a pair of sneakers squeaking against the floor nearby. You gain speed, launching yourself into the lobby and that's when you see him; hunched over and panting for breath, a flash of a pink ticket glinting from between his fingertips as he grips his side desperately. He lets down his hood to reveal a head of seafoam hair and that's when you're sure. You've found him. Your potential admirer.

Before you can think better of it, you're launching yourself through the air and wrapping your arms around the shoulders of the blue-haired-runaway. He lets out a yell of surprise, briefly struggling before he drops to the ground and you manage to wrangle yourself onto his front, pinning his arms to the ground and smiling triumphantly when you find none other than Kim Taehyung looking up at you fearfully.

"I knew it! It's you!" You punch the air, missing how Taehyung's eyes narrow in confusion. "You're my secret admirer, right?"

"What? No! Your secret admirer is..." He swallows hard, eyes widening like he let something slip that he shouldn't have. "Uh wait! Forget I said that, um I gotta go—"

"Oh hell no," Jimin appears, out of breath, and grabs Taehyung by the collar. "You know something? You're coming with us."

"Uh, sorry again for, you know...tackling you to the ground or whatever." You say as you place a cup of coffee down in front of Taehyung. Jimin has dragged you both to the nearly empty cafeteria to talk so you figured it wouldn't hurt to offer a sorry gift. "I really thought it was you."

"It's fine." Taehyung offers an awkward smile as he rubs the back of his neck, shooting you a set of finger guns. "Better hope I don't sue you if it bruises, though."

There's an awkward silence as you and Jimin just stare at the table, unamused by Taehyung's attempt at lightening the mood, so he takes to sipping his coffee in silence instead. "

"Soooo..." You swirl the straw in your cup of soda meaninglessly, catching the way Taehyung's eyes flit across the cafeteria like he doesn't know where to look. "You said you knew who sent Y/N the love letter?"

Taehyung freezes, head jerking up to stare at you directly, tongue eventually snaking out to wipe away the coffee froth on his upper lip. "I do."

Your fingers tap against the table top impatiently. "So? Who is it?"

"I..." Taehyung bites his lip, sinking back into his seat with his hands curled in his lap in defeat. "I can't tell you."

"What? Why?!" You exclaim. "We're so close and you won't help us?"

"It's not that I don't want to!" Taehyung rushes, hands in the air in surrender. "But I've been sworn to secrecy by your admirer and...I think it's better if he tells you himself."

"And how can we be sure you aren't just lying to cover your own tracks?" Jimin interjects, chin in palm as he looks between the two of you he's been listening carefully this whole time. He narrows his eyes and points right at the blue haired boy opposite who flinches. "Explain how you had this letter that day after the frat party?"

Jimin looks left and right to check the coast is clear before he slides the ripped piece of paper you found in Taehyung's bag across the table.

Taehyung's brows furrow as he studies the note closely, confused, but then he flips the page and his eyes light up like he just put a puzzle piece together."Oh that?" He twists in his seat to rummage around in his backpack, emerging with the missing letter piece. "Here's the other half."

With a smug grin you rip the note from his hand, quickly lining it up with the letter you had read over and over again for clues, heart thumping as you read the words littering the lines and hope for answers. "A-ha! This is...a grocery list?"

Taehyung shrugs. "I was wondering where that got to. I guess your admirer used my notebook and I forgot to check the back of the page before I ripped it out. Sorry."

So all this time Taehyung was just using the back of the love letter your admirer wrote from his heart to remind him what to buy at the store? The disrespect!

Jimin slides his glasses down his nose, peering over the lenses as he slams his hands down right in front of Taehyung, unconvinced by his story.

"Then how come you were holding a pink ticket and we saw you walking away when we took off our blindfold."

Taehyung chokes on his drink, eyes trained to the table as he fiddles with the rings on his fingers nervously. "Well, I did kiss someone..."

"What?" You and Jimin exclaim in unison.

Taehyung nods. "But it wasn't you, Y/N."

"Then..." Realisation suddenly hits you like a ton of bricks and all eyes land on Jimin who is frozen like a statue, mouth opening and closing in disbelief as Taehyung's confession.

"You kissed...me?" He swallows. "Me?"

"Yeah." Taehyung stammers, finally blinking up through his long lashes at Jimin to gauge his reaction."Is that okay?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah it is." Taehyung's lips curve into an unabashed grin and you can't help but giggle at how red Jimin's cheeks have bloomed, your best friend's eyes filled with hearts as they stare at the blue haired boy opposite him with content disbelief.

So...this development is pretty much confirmation that Taehyung is definitely not your secret admirer. A weight settles in your stomach when it dawns on you that your last lead just came to a dead end, and you are still no closer to uncovering the identity of your secret admirer.

Maybe it's time to give up. All you had left was a pinboard filled with useless clues and now you could place another cross next to Taehyung's name.

But as you look between the two boys hitting it off in front of you, you can't help but smile, somehow glad that at least something good came out of this whole thing. It is the season of love, after all. Even if it wasn't for you.

"Oooookay." You announce, getting to your feet when you zone back in and notice how much closer Jimin has scooted towards Taehyung. "Well, I guess this is my cue to leave you guys to it."

"Wait!" Taehyung grabs your wrist, pinning you in place. "I really do hope you find your admirer. I know I couldn't help much, but have you tried talking to Jeon Jungkook? He programmed the Love Calculator so maybe he can."

"Jeon Jungkook..." Where have you heard that name before...wait!

"Jeon Jungkook!" Jimin exclaims. "That's the last name on your list!"

Huh. Maybe you haven't hit a dead end after all.

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someone1348 · 3 years

Note

R E V E N G E

(Hehehe I love the Pride theme so much!)

One of the events of the Pride celebration on the SMP was little challenges. Some bring a water balloon fight, some being a to make something in under 30 minutes with a team, ect. Today was competitive hide and seek, and well you were a hider! Everyone who was a hider was lined up near the deepest forest on the SMP. Waiting the the signal to hide, which as soon as it went off, everyone ran off. Only given 2 minutes to run and hide before the hunters would get them.

Now most hunters went after whoever was closer, but that didn’t be the case for Quackity. He was going after you specifically which was very clear given he was teasing you, as he ran around trying to find you. You had found a good hidden area, but heard the duck hybrid close by.

“Oooooooh K! Where are yooooou? Come on out!” he called out as he sounded close by. You surpassed your giggles as he got very close then the foot steps stopped. It was silent for a moment and then a pair of arms grabbed you.

“Gottcha!” Quackity cheered and then smirked. Moving his fingers up to your underarms, skittering them slowly, listing you to giggle, “Now the Tickle Monster has you~.”

He growled playfully and nibbled on your neck and blew small raspberries. Moving his hands to your ribs to your sides. Moving up and down quickly. Digging into your ribs bones randomly before going back to moving his fingers up and down.

“Awwww! Look how ticklish you are~! So cuuute, such a wonderful ticklish snack too~!” he said, moving to nibble on your ribs. Blowing small raspberries on both your ribs and tummy. Moving his hands back into your underarms.

“Alright my ticklish snack, I’ll go a little bit lighter. As I still need those giggles to feed off of ~,” he said and pulled you onto his lap. “Trapping” you into a hug and lightly traced on your ribs. Tracing random shapes or words, at one point writhing “tickle” up from your ribs down to your sides.

“Tickle tickle tickle, K~ Are you enjoying this? Yeeeah I bet~” Quackity teases as you moved a bit closer to him and the tickles. Leaning more into it and relaxing.

He could tell you were getting tired and picked you up, still tracing a little bit. Yet very much featherlight, and making you slip out tiny giggles. By the time you got back to the field, almost everyone was tired. They all decided to the cuddle pile area in Eret’s castle which was set up for days like this. Quackity cuddling you close as you fell asleep, giving you a platonic kiss on the crown of your head.

TAKE IT TAKE IT

I love this so much im so in love with him omg! 👏

#strawberry sib!

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emybain · 4 years

Text

Recovery (sequel to rainy day)

thank god this is no longer in my wips

part of the nova’s family lives au

ao3

Evie was curled beside Nova, braiding her hair as Nova ate a bowl of yogurt with fruit mixed in. It was one of the only foods that she could consume without throwing up, oddly. She was on forced bed rest after returning from an overnight stay at the hospital. Frankly, she didn’t understand why they made her stay the night anyway; the biggest injury she had was her arm probably. But hospitals were weird about things like that, always wanting patients to stay longer than they needed just to stay safe. Nova did cut her head open from the broken glass, but at most she had a continuous headache that was only a minor annoyance.

Multiple times a day, Nova had to listen to her mom lecture her on how irresponsible she was and how lucky she was to come out of the accident the way she did and not dead. While she was right, the constant reminder gave Nova a greater headache than the stitched up cut across the side of her head.

“Does it hurt?” Evie asked, breaking the silence. She normally wasn’t so docile with Nova, but since the accident, she had started showing her soft side a little more. It was pleasant.

“Does what hurt?” Nova made the mistake of shifting her body slightly toward her sister. A sharp, agonizing pain shot through her right side. The bowl clattered to her lap as her good arm went to the ice pack over her ribs. Because of this, as well as her broken arm, Nova resorted to only wearing sports bras and sweatpants since she got home.

“Well, I was going to say your arm, but clearly I’m thinking about the wrong thing.” Evie was unfazed at Nova’s pain.

After a moment, letting the pain ease enough for her to talk, Nova relaxed and picked her bowl back up. “It’s not that bad. Just...a different kind of pain than what I’m used to.”

Evie hummed in thought. She tied up the second braid on Nova’s head, giving her pigtails. There were big strands hanging out from the woven pattern, due to Nova’s hair being so short, but it was good overall. Impressive, almost, for Evie’s age.

Nova turned the channel on her television, figuring she should check in on the news. It was nearing the evening, and she hadn’t seen any news coverage that day. The show that talked about the latest celebrity gossip was still on before the nightly news. It took a moment to figure out what they were discussing, but once they showed detailed pictures of the crash, Nova let out a sigh.

Beside her, Evie stilled, hand falling from Nova’s hair. They watched the coverage together in silence.

“...ran a red light, causing an incoming car to hit the backside of her vehicle and flipping the car over onto its hood.” The woman shook her head. “First responders were quick to the scene. Artino appeared to be the only one hurt in the incident.”

“She’s lucky no one else was hurt in the incident, Heather. The other party involved has chosen to not press charges” the man added with a grim smile. “The cause of the accident is still unknown. For now, the world can only wonder what this means for Artino’s future with the Renegades.”

“You make a good point, Steve.” Heather tapped her long, fake nails on the glass desk in front of her. “The Council, however, refuses to make any comment at this time. As for Artino, she is at home-”

Nova turned the channel again to a different news station, one she knew wouldn’t report gossip about her life. The pain from her screw up was almost as bad as her injuries. She hadn’t received a call from HQ since returning from the hospital, but her wreck was plastered on every tabloid and the main discussion of every news station, it seemed like. The car was totaled, flipping over after being t-boned in an intersection. The young couple that hit her had been nice, more worried about her crawling out of an upside down car and the blood streaming from her forehead than the severely dented front of their car. They had even called for an ambulance themselves, and stayed with Nova while the police and fire truck and ambulance showed up. Nova remembered thinking of what her father had told her about what to do if she ever got in an accident, his lectures including to keep a safe distance from the other party and to not speak to them until the police arrived, but they had been so kind to her, and she had been so out of it and dizzy that she didn’t care.

“People will forget about this in a week.” Evie reached for Nova’s forgotten spoon and took a nibble of her yogurt. “Some stupid couple will get engaged and the media will go nuts.”

Nova swallowed. “Yeah. I know.” But she was lying. They wouldn’t forget. Evie was just trying to lighten the mood.

From downstairs, the doorbell rang. Evie sprung from Nova’s bed to go peek at whoever it was, ever the nosy little bug. She took the now empty yogurt bowl with her. Nova returned her focus to the TV, wanting to forget about the accident and everything surrounding it.

Clearly the universe wanted to see her suffer.

Mom called out Nova’s name from below, followed by a string of commands to Thomas in Tagalog that Nova didn’t fully catch. She could hear the pounding of her baby brother’s feet on the hardwood floor as he ran up the stairs and down the hall toward Nova’s room.

She heard him blow a raspberry at Evie, who must’ve terrorized him in some way when he passed, and then he was poking his head into her room. “Mommy said Adrian’s here,” he told her, eyes fixated on the ice pack on her side and the cast on her arm.

Nova closed her eyes and sank a little, ignoring the pain from her ribs. She hadn’t heard from him since the other day, before her crash when she had gone to his house when she had nowhere else to go. When they kissed. But she knew he was bound to show up at some point, whether or not he was angry with her. Adrian was just like that.

“Papa says you’re sad.” Thomas took a step into the room tentatively, chubby hand wrapped around the knob still. “That...that there is a lot of unhappiness in your life right now.” He worded everything slowly, trying out each syllable. Nova had to give him a supportive smile. She held out her arm, and he surged forward to climb onto the bed to give her a hug.

“I’m fine, Tommy.” She pressed a kiss on top of his curls. “Well, I’m going to be.”

“Good.” His grin was toothy. Her heart warmed. “I hate being sad.”

Nova chuckled and ruffled his hair. “There’s a lot going on right now, Tommy.” When he frowned, she continued. “It’s nothing you need to worry about, though, okay? I upset people I care about, including Mommy and Papa, and that hurts me. But things are going to be better again. Soon”

There was a soft knock on Nova’s door. She looked up and froze. Adrian stood in the doorway, eyes searching her face and lingering on the cut across her head, then down to her stomach and arm. Her cheeks flushed under his stare.

“Hey, Tommy, why don’t you see if Papa needs something downstairs.” Nova found her voice, trying to act calm despite the sudden increase in her heart rate. Tommy hopped off of her bed and skipped to the door, unbothered as all children are, and even greeted Adrian like nothing was wrong. Nova was envious of his childlike innocence sometimes.

“Your mom let me up,” Adrian explained, now looking around her room curiously. Nova could tell he was bothered, though. His posture was always stiff when something was bugging him. He avoided eye contact. “I haven’t been up here in awhile. Not since last year. But even then, I didn’t get to look around much.”

“Well, not much has changed. I’ve mostly just thrown out what I have no use for anymore.” Her laugh was awkward, ending in a slight wheeze.

“I saw your car.” She almost thought she saw him wince. It could’ve just been the meds she was on. “I guess you won’t be driving any time soon, huh?”

She could tell he was just trying to keep the mood light. At least it was something different. Her team had all come by the day before with ice cream and Get Better Soon balloons. It was sweet, especially Ramona’s bad attempt at chastising Nova for being an idiot, but Nova was beginning to go stir crazy from all the attention she was getting.

“No, but I’m more upset about the car.” She shrugged. “Edward was a good one. Gone, but not forgotten.”

A shadow of his normal, goofy self crossed his features, but only for a moment. Nova bit the inside of her cheek and patted the spot where Evie had been sitting, silently inviting him over. “How are things at Headquarters? Ramona said that since the wreck, they haven’t been given any assignments.”

“Normal,” Adrian said once he was settled beside her. He kept a safe distance from her, which stung slightly, but she understood. “Max is pissed off at you.”

A laugh escaped Nova’s lips, and she clutched her side at the sudden pain. Adrian’s eyes followed her hand, brow furrowed. Nova pretended to ignore his obvious concern. “Why? What have I done to possibly piss off the Bandit?

He looked back up at her and tried for a smile. “You haven’t been in to see him.”

Nova rolled her eyes. Whenever she was at HQ, she always tried to make a habit of visiting Max’s quarantine before leaving for the day. “Well, you can tell him I’ll be back the second my mother lets me so much as stick one limb out of this bed.”

“Noted.” His smile became a bit more genuine, much to Nova’s delight. And then it disappeared again. He scanned the minor cuts across her face and the larger one on her forehead, glanced over the tiny bruises here and there. “Nova, I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

She blinked at him. “You’re sorry? This was my fault, Adrian. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“No, I...I was wrong for kissing you when you were vulnerable like that.” He shook his head. “You needed a friend, and I was an ass.”

Her mind immediately went to the other day. Their kiss. The closeness. His lips on her neck and all over her face. She was still mentally kicking herself for initiating it in the first place. Every day, she had wondered what Adrian must think of her, yet here he was now, apologizing for no reason. This was Adrian, of course. He always apologized, even if he wasn’t at fault. That’s just who he was. But if he thought that there had been something wrong with the kiss (like Nova suspected) which caused her to push him away that day, then it truly was a mistake. She didn’t know what she was thinking. While she had been setting herself up for heartbreak since then, hearing his apology now was still a blow to her feelings for him. She should never have put him to sleep. Instead, she should’ve apologized before things went too far and hoped for forgiveness. Well, it was too late now.

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. Damn her racing heart. “I was the one who kissed you, remember? I should be apologizing.” She looked down at the covers. “For that, and for putting you to sleep. You were only trying to help me. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m really sorry.”

He let out a slow sigh. “It seems like we both fucked up then, huh?” Nova stared at him blankly. “Can we just...pretend that the kiss didn’t happen? Go back to how things were before?” Though it pained her to do so, Nova nodded and forced a smile. She was lucky enough to still have his friendship, after fearing he wouldn’t want anything to do with her after she revealed her true feelings for him.

“I’d like that very much.” Perhaps her biggest lie to date.

“Good.” He nodded hesitantly, as if something was still bothering him. “And what you told me? The Anarchists and the messages?” Thank every star above he changed the subject before Nova could dwell too much on her rejection. Not the best topic, though.

Nova clenched her teeth. “My parents are still mad about that, but I think they’re waiting until I’m a little better before they lay into me.” She paused. “Can we not talk about the rest of that right now? I’ll...I’ll tell you more later, but my head is throbbing right now and I don’t know if I could handle that.”

“Of course,” he responded, perhaps a little too enthusiastic. Their hands were still clasped together. She tried not to think about it too much. “But you need to address that soon, Nova. And tell the Council. It’s too serious not to. You could be in danger.” After a moment, he added quietly, “And I can’t lose you, too.”

“Hey.” She sat up a little. “I won’t let that happen. I’ll make this right. I promise.” And that’s all she chose to say for the rest of the subject. Things were too complicated right now. It would be too hard to tell Adrian that she was beginning to lose faith in the Renegades and the Council and their system, that while the Anarchists were terrible people, their beliefs weren’t all bad. Not now. Maybe one day.

His posture relaxed a little. “Thank you.”

A small weight seemed to lift from her shoulders, but there was still more holding her down. She didn’t want to worry about that right now. Reaching for the remote, she turned to a movie channel that often played some of her and Adrian’s favorites. “Want to stay a while? I’m sure I could bribe Evie into making us some popcorn.”

She half expected him to say no, to laugh at her for even suggesting it. But he smiled and nodded, scooting further onto the bed until his back was against her headboard and he was inches away.

Nova was still plagued by his words from earlier, even as they sat in silence watching the movie. It was a good one, set in a far away universe, but Nova could barely pay attention. How could they move on as though what happened between them was nothing? Did Adrian think that she had only been acting in the moment, and not from her true feelings? Is that why he wanted to forget it, for her sake? Or was he embarrassed for her? That wasn’t necessarily like Adrian, Nova knew that, but she couldn’t rule out any possibilities. Ever since they started hanging out again, Nova’s baby crush had grown into something much more. Before, it had been merely admiring how handsome Adrian was, or checking him out when his back was turned, or playful flirting passed off as banter, or entertaining the idea of going on a date with him late at night when she was alone. Now, well, it was indescribable. He was her best friend. The very thought of him brought a smile to her face. Everything about him was endearing, even the way he snored softly while asleep or forgot to wipe off toothpaste from that one spot on his chin in the mornings and Nova would have to point it out to him at HQ or how he completely zoned out when drawing.

“Adrian.” He turned his head to look at her, eyebrows raised. They had only been watching the movie for about twenty minutes. Nova licked her lips before continuing. “I lied...about earlier.” When he frowned, Nova pressed on before she could be interrupted. “I don’t want to forget about the kiss.”

“What do you mean?”

She inhaled a shaky breath. “I understand if you want to go back to how things were, but I can’t just forget the kiss. Maybe you can but…” She searched for the proper words, “It meant too much to me. You mean too much to me.”

Her heart pounded in her chest as she waited for an answer. “I thought...after that, and what happened last year, you weren’t interested in me like that.”

She would have laughed if it didn’t hurt. “I thought my feelings were made pretty clear the other day. I was convinced you were the one who didn’t want that.”

He searched her face, shifting his body just a bit toward her. “You’re joking. Nova, I’ve-I’ve had the biggest crush on you since we were twelve. I thought you knew.”

It was Nova’s turn to be surprised. “I had no idea.”

“Well, you’re the one who’s always pushed me away.” He shook his head. “Skies, Nova, you put me to sleep mid-kiss. I don’t know about whatever world you’re from, but here, that usually means not interested.”

Her cheeks lit up. “I’m sorry about that, and every time before. I just…” she sighed, eyelids falling closed, “I don’t know. Being scared isn’t an excuse, but I was terrified that you would reject me.” She shrugged meekly. “We have so much history, and...and I don’t want to ruin that. You’re my best friend, Adrian.”

She nearly jumped when he grabbed her hand and interlaced their fingers. His palms were sweaty, but she didn’t care. “No, I-I understand. I’ve felt the same way.”

“I’m not good at this kind of thing.” She gestured between them awkwardly with her head.

His laugh helped ease her nerves, his words even more so. “I know.”

She bit her bottom lip and avoided his gaze when she said, in a quiet voice, “Could we maybe try again?”

He bent his head down to look at her, and the look she got nearly made her slap him with a pillow. “You’re not going to put me asleep again, are you?” If it weren’t for the dorky smile on his lips, she definitely would’ve hit him.

“I don’t know. If it makes that shit eating grin disappear, I just might.”

“That’s more like it,” he said, and before she could retort with something snarky, he leaned forward and kissed her. After a short moment, he pulled back, smile gone and eyes a question. Only when she nodded did he kiss her again, this time a bit longer.

Nova sighed against his lips and leaned into him as much as she could without it being painful. She let go of his hand and let her fingers trail up until they came to rest on his neck . She felt him curl his hand into her hair, pulling out her braids, before bringing both palms to rest on her cheeks. The feeling of his gentle caresses sent chills down her spine. His fingers traced a path around her face, as though he were trying to create a map to remember every curve and feature. Their last kiss had been frantic and needy, more passionate than perhaps meaningful. Nova supposed it was due to the circumstances, of course, but also from years of tension and misunderstandings. Now that she was aware of Adrian’s feelings, she was able to fully let go and kiss him without worry.

He broke away, and Nova opened her mouth to protest. He silenced her by gently pressing kisses on her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her eyelids, all while murmuring her name and how much he adored her. Her heart swelled in her chest, and she brought his lips back to hers one last time before separating.

“I’m so glad you’re okay so we were able to redo that,” he breathed, mouth brushing hers as he spoke.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled and giggled. She let her forehead rest against his, closing her eyes. “Yeah. Me too.”

They spent the rest of the evening watching movies and cuddling, and even got Evie to bring them snacks, who may have expressed her disgust at the two of them. But Nova didn’t care. Not one bit.

#renegades #archenemies #supernova #au #nova artino #adrian everhart #nodrian #oscar silva #ruby tucker #osby #tuckva #danna bell #narcissa cronin #daniss #my writing #anarchists

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