#right after spending nine hours a day five days that week talking on the phone
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 '𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒, CHAPTER I: you finish your last lecture of the day and head to get dinner before returning to your dormitories. you stumble upon an injured figure on your way home, laying in a dimly lit alley. despite the fear in your heart, you decide to reach out towards the unknown man in need of help.
wc. 3.7k
tags. assassin!toji x female reader. sfw; fluff-ish, angst. reader's best friend oc appearance (yona). mentions of murder, blood, knives, anxiety. general warnings for all parts of the series: size difference. age gap (reader early 20's, toji early 30's).
ten seconds. you shut down your laptop and close it. nine seconds. you put your laptop in your tote bag. eight seconds. you close your books and do the same. seven seconds. you put your coat on. six seconds. you check your phone for any messages.
five seconds. you’re thinking about what to eat once you arrive home. four seconds. you decide on a pack of noodles. three seconds. you realise that you’ve ran out of them. two seconds. you make up your mind to go to your local supermarket. one second. you stand up from your seat.
“..that’s all, students. have a nice day and i’ll see you at our next lecture.”
a sigh of relief escapes your lips. you’re finally freed from the shackles of your statistics class. not like you’ve paid much attention to what your professor had been yapping about anyway. it was too boring. the daydreaming you did about your potential future boyfriend and all the cheesy romantic stuff you’d do together was all the more important.
“earth to my best friend,” your friend’s voice snaps you back into reality. you look to your side and find yourself apologising for not hearing her the first time. yona chuckles and waves her hand dismissively.
“i asked if you had any plans after the lecture,” she continues whilst scrolling through her phone. you take a peek at her screen and notice that she’s already looking up available restaurants in the area.
you’re grateful that she’s looking out for you in her own way, but you’ve already made up your mind. a pack of your favorite ramen noodles will fill you for tonight. you’re low on cash this month anyway. a fancy restaurant would have you surviving on water for the rest of the week.
“ah, i actually do. gotta go grocery shopping ‘n stuff,” you pout apologetically before buttoning up your coat. yona nods in understanding, knowing the struggles of being a college student.
“aww, all right. we’ll go next time then,” she replies with a smile.
you walk out of the building with your friend by your side, chatting about how boring the lecture was. of course, you also learn all about the recent gossip around campus. yona is practically your plug for that.
“did you hear about that one girl that allowed her boyfriend to stay with her in her dorm room for a whole month and then got snitched on by her roommate?” yona snickers, not caring if anyone around you could hear the gossip.
you raise an eyebrow in surprise. your university has strict rules about guests staying over in the dormitories. they can spend a day or two, but you’d have to sign them in. plus the resident assistants usually check the rooms for any unusual activity every other week.
to hear someone had gotten away for a whole month is quite a surprise.
“he could’ve stayed for longer if it wasn’t for the roommate snitching,” yona continues and rolls her eyes. she takes a quick snack from her bag and bites into it.
you shake your head and shrug, making sure you don’t trip and fall down the stairs whilst you’re talking, “guess the roommate got enough of the random man in their room. i mean—they pay for that room as well. not like the girl is the only one living there.”
yona nods and turns a right. you follow, your eyes scanning the busy hallways. some students are rushing between the crowd to catch their train and others are making their way to their next two hour lecture. those poor souls.
“mhm. i wouldn’t wanna live with a man i don’t know either,” yona eventually adds after swallowing the last bite of her snack, “let alone for a whole month.”
she throws the wrapper in a nearby garbage can—which is overly full already. talk about a ‘hygienic’ school.
“right,” you shiver as the thought gets put into your head. a random man living with you. . . sounds like a nightmare. you’ve heard enough stories about how dirty they can be. in both the physical and mental aspects.
after some walking - and getting annoyed by random people who block your way due to how slow they’re moving - you reach the exit of the building. yona stretches her arms and grabs her phone before turning to you.
“anyway, see you later, hun!” she enthusiastically gives you a hug. you return the affectionate gesture with a gentle smile, rubbing her back. you exchange your last words before both going your own ways.
music plays in your ears as you walk down the street. the wind blows against your face. it’s a cold day. you wouldn’t be surprised if it were to rain in a bit.
‘gotta be fast’, you think. you are not carrying an umbrella with you, so you’d have to hurry back with your groceries. your legs pick up their pace and pass all traffic as fast as they can.
it takes you quite a while to get to your destination. that’s the drawback of living in such a packed city like tokyo. there is no way to move, especially in the evening, when everyone is returning home.
you reach a crosswalk and wait for the light to turn blue. whilst you’re waiting next to a bunch of people, your eyes wander across the scenery. from the huge billboards to your right to the multiple cars to your left.
your gaze stops at one specific billboard. it’s playing some of the latest news. a recent incident had taken place just a few kilometres north from your university. three people had been found cruelly murdered in their apartments.
the definite cause of their deaths is still unknown. there wasn’t any sign of a forced entry, even when reports say that all three victims had been killed in the same way.
they speculate that the person involved must have been quite skilled—someone who’s done this multiple times before. there are absolutely zero traces of them left neither. the only reason they’re able to conclude that it is indeed a homicide, are the similar wounds left on the victims’ bodies.
another comment from the investigation team shows that there might be a survivor who’s escaped the cold blooded killer. that person is now considered missing.
the police are still thoroughly investigating the matter; that’s all you get to know before the news reporter moves on to the next subject.
you look down at your shoes. such scary stuff does make you afraid. you’re living on your own after all. you’d be less scared if you had a roommate, but you currently don’t.
some call you lucky for that since it’s a rare occurrence, yet you still wish you had someone living with you. that would make walking back home at night less stressful.
the increase of footsteps around you makes you realise that the light turned blue—a sign for you to cross the street. you eventually reach the other side. you tilt your head back, anxiously staring at the sky.
‘please don’t, please don’t, please don’t,’ you chant in your head. like the weather is going to listen to your desperate pleas. you rush inside of the supermarket.
you’ve been here often enough to know which products are in what aisle. you scurry over to the ramen, grabbing two packs. you get a few snacks along the way. unhealthy crap, that’s what you’re surviving on.
you stand in line at the cashier. you tap your shoe and bite your lip, your gaze fixated on the sky outside. you beg god to give you just a few more minutes. a few more minutes of drought.
you check your phone and go through your recent notifications to kill time. you swipe left on almost all of them—none being time sensitive or urgent anyway.
you greet the cashier politely once it’s your turn and allow him to scan your products for you. you await for him to announce your total before handing him your debit card. your eyes flicker over to the television hanging right behind the cashier’s head.
that gruesome news again. twice in a row. you shiver and try not to think about it. your mind is already overthinking the entire thing; what if you’re next?
well, that should be the least of your worries. you grab the plastic bag and walk to the exit of the supermarket, taking a deep breath. what you actually should be worried about is getting home dry.
“just my luck,” you mutter under your breath. your prayers are left unanswered as the first few drops of rain fall on your head. you kiss your teeth in annoyance.
you can’t help but silently agree as a couple walks past you, complaining about the sudden change of weather. you watch as a few more people rush past you with their bags above their head.
looking at the bright side of things, you won’t be the only one who’s running home with a bag as a shield against the rain and wind.
you take a deep breath again and mentally prepare yourself for the quick journey you’re going to make. you look to the left and then the right. when the coast is clear, you dash into the direction of your dormitory.
the rain is not letting up. you rush past a few people, those carrying umbrellas walking the slowest of them all. ‘damn them’, you think, ‘they have it the easiest right now.’
you turn a corner and nearly bump into a woman. you politely apologise before continuing your little run home. damp droplets run down your forehead. the rain is already starting to block your vision.
you tightly hug your tote bag to your chest with one arm. the last thing you want is for your laptop to get water damage. you’ve wasted tons of money on that thing to help you get through college.
you look down at the plastic bag with your food. that’ll survive. at least you think it will.
you squint. the rain is only getting worse and thus your blurry vision will as well. you try blinking the water away, but end up making it worse for yourself.
great.
your shoes are going through it. the deep puddles you’ve run through leave the material moist and you can already feel the droplets seep into your socks.
greaaat.
you turn a left. this narrow street is one you hate to be near when it’s dark. it’s a fast shortcut, but also a scary one since it’s isolated from the bustling main streets.
you think back to the cruel news you’ve heard earlier. scary images flash through your mind. your heart races a thousand miles per hour. you once again make up a doom scenario that could possibly happen.
what if the killer on the run is going after you next?
it doesn’t make sense, logically, but everything is possible now that your anxiety has overtaken your rational thoughts. you have no connections to those victims and yet you think you’re next.
you are next.
you whimper out of fear. it feels like the walls of this narrow street are closing up on you the faster you run. you look over your shoulder, excepting someone to be there—following you.
no one is there. you turn your head again and run as fast as you can. if only you had someone with you. someone who’d console you and tell you that there’s nothing to be afraid of.
that’s the worst thing about the entire situation: nobody seems to pass by this backstreet. the only things that could possibly give you any sense of comfort are the random boxes and trash laying around.
time seems to slow down once you see the end of the backstreet. there’d actually be people once you make it through. you gulp and give yourself the motivation to get over there without scaring yourself any further.
the shadows looming over you due to the lack of lightning in this alleyway creep you out. the entire atmosphere is eerie—like something or someone can jump out of those shadows and grab you by the ankles. drag you into the darkness and finish you off there.
you want to return to those vibrant lights you know so bad. you do.
your eyes are so intensely focused on the end of the streets to the point that you forget your surroundings. it’s already too late to realise that you’re tripping over something. you process that you’ve lost your balance when you’re already mid-fall.
your body lands on the wet ground with a loud thud. luckily enough, your hands touched the concrete first, softening the fall for your head. you grunt and groan; it still hurt.
your ears pick up on the sound of running water. your head lays right next to a broken pipe that’s leaking water onto the pavement. cold droplets fall in a rushed rhythm.
“ah, fuck.”
your eyes widen. the sound of a man behind you sends a shiver down your spine. is that why you tripped? did he make you trip?
‘i’m so done,’ you conclude quietly. it’s probably the killer you’ve heard about—the one who’s coming for you next. just like you had thought.
you shut your eyes tightly, awaiting the strike that would finish you. like the wounds that had finished the other victims. though, it never comes. the stabbing doesn’t happen.
the only thing you can pick up on is heavy breathing. low grunts, barely audible. the sound of cloth ripping. a man mumbling under his breath.
you sit up on your knees and look over your shoulder. slowly, little by little.
the revealed sight is like a dream. or a nightmare. you don’t know which it is. perhaps a mixture of both.
all you know is that this is the last thing you expected to see. the last thing you expected to experience today. you feel your heart drop and you freeze in place.
you’ve seen your own fair share of blood, but this is simply too much. it’s like time has stopped for you. like time has stopped inside of this backstreet.
the world outside of this alleyway continues moving. the people keep walking, chatting and living their lives. the rain keeps falling. as if nothing is occurring at the moment.
as if there is no bloodied man on the dirty ground, leaning against the wall, with crimson stained hands clutching his abdomen. his wet bangs cover his eyes which makes his identity even more mysterious.
you probably tripped over his leg that’s stretched out in front of him; also bloody. you feel bad for not noticing him earlier. your own selfish desires to get out of this alley caused you to overlook a person in need of urgent aid.
you don’t think twice before reaching out towards him. it’s like your body moves on its own command—not waiting for your brain to figure out what to do.
“oh my god,” you’re shaking badly, but your body crawls closer to the injured figure. you don’t think twice. something you have always taught yourself to do before diving into unfamiliar situations.
not right now, however. you don’t hesitate to check up on the stranger. if you didn’t see his chest moving with each shaky breath, you’d have concluded that he’s dead.
“s-sir?” you panic. what do you do? you’ve never landed in such a predicament before. you look to your left and then to your right. no one to help you nor the bloodied man.
he doesn’t reply to your voice. that further worsens your anxiety. your eyes wander down towards the man’s abdomen. the wound was deep and painful, that much you can tell from the way he’s holding tightly onto it.
a bullet wound? you’re not sure.
right—the piece of cloth he’s keeping against the wound. that’s what you do to try and stop the bleeding. the warm red liquid stains the man’s baggy pants. his black shirt is nearly ripped to shreds, the material hanging on by a thread. literally.
“uhm, uh,” you look around and spot your bag on the floor. in a puddle. you pray that your laptop has made it. you don’t recall having anything with you that could help treat wounds.
you gulp and hastily take off your scarf. you carefully kneel in front of the half-conscious man. his head is held low. you don’t know if he can even hear you.
you reach your hand out towards him, aiming for his own bloody hands that hold onto his abdomen. you cringe due to the sight, but try your best to be of assistance.
the man hisses the moment you touch the his hand. your fingers stop mid-air, not wanting to touch him if he didn’t want to.
what am i thinking?
now is not the time for that. he’s bleeding out and you have this urge to get him to safety as soon as possible. even if you’re internally panicking because of the huge responsibility that fate has suddenly assigned you.
“i’ll call an ambulance. please hold on,” you try to be reassuring, however your choked up voice betrays your true feelings. you change the old cloth with your scarf, pressing it tightly against his injury.
you fish out your phone from your pocket using your other hand. the rain makes it hard to do anything. your screen is wet, your vision blurry. you type in the first number of the emergency services.
suddenly, a bigger hand swats yours, causing your phone to go flying to the other side of the street. you watch with wide eyes as your cellphone comes to a stop right next to a big puddle of rain.
you whip your head to the direction of the injured figure in front of you. the man tries to lifts his head, slowly, so he could look you in the eye. your heart stammers in your chest.
“sir, you’re bleeding out, you need to—“
“i don’t need anythin’.”
you don’t dare to move nor let out a single breath. you can feel the tip of a sharp blade rest under your chin—nearly penetrating the flesh. one wrong move and you will lose your life.
the man had moved too fast for you to even process. you don’t know how you even ended like this. with a bloody knife to your throat and an unknown man’s face right up against yours.
“leave,” the stranger demands. you know he’s not to be messed with, even in his weakened state, “i don’t need y’r help.”
his voice sounds rough. deep and raspy. it shakes you to your core—makes you listen to what he has to say. it’s hypnotising. a gust of wind blows over the both of you.
his bangs move and your gaze finally meets his. the background noises fade for a split second. your entire focus is on those beautiful emerald orbs staring into your own eyes. they’re gorgeous.
they're gorgeous; even if they lack that sparkle of life. his eyes tell stories—the rough journeys this man probably had to endure throughout the years. you’ve never seen such a sight. it tugs at your heartstring and urges you to help him.
you don’t know where these feelings came from, but amidst your anxiety, there’s an underlying desire to take care of him.
you shake your head, showing your unexpected defiance. you’re playing with fire. you know that all too well and yet you don’t care.
“no. i won’t leave,” your breath hitches. you notice the dangerous glint in the man’s eyes. he looks like he’s going to lose consciousness any second now. though his grip on the knife tells another story, “i won’t leave you alone. not like this.”
the injured stranger grunts in annoyance, but also in pain. your persistence makes him want to shove you to the side. to leave this place already and find a way out on his own. he doesn’t want your help.
he may actually need it, but he does not want to accept it.
despite those thoughts, he’s too weak. way too weak. he doesn’t like being weak. feeling weak is not his thing. vulnerability doesn’t suit him.
“you have a fuckin’ death wish,” the man scoffs. he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto consciousness, but that is the last thing he cares about. he wants you gone. out of sight.
you stay in place. even through his chilling death threats. you can feel the blade start to invade the first layer of your skin. it hurts already. normally, you would’ve run. you want to. your mind tells you to get the hell out, but your heart and body yells at you to stay.
“i’ll give ya three seconds,” the stranger continues. he’s close. so close that you can feel his hot breath against your freezing cheeks. it’s intimidating, however not enough to scare you away.
the tighter your grip on the scarf against his abdomen, the tighter his grip on the handle of the knife. time will tell who’ll win this battle.
“three.”
the countdown starts. you swallow your own spit. the rain has you completely drenched. you catch a glimpse of the puddle underneath you both. the colour of it a light red as the man’s blood flows and mixes with the clear water.
“two.”
his voice is quieter than before. he’s losing his strength, but is stubborn enough to firmly keep the knife below your chin. you’re sure that your own blood is already trickling down the shiny metal.
the man’s lips part to announce the last number. your last chance. your final opportunity to escape and act like you have never seen him. you can go back to your normal life—continue living in your own world. the one you are familiar with.
one without this unknown man. this man with an aura of a cold hearted killer.
you fingers curl tightly against the scarf pressed against his wound. you refuse to let up. even if it means your own death. your eyes close—cold damp droplets roll down your cheeks. you don’t know if they’re your tears or if it’s just the pouring rain.
you hear a low, frustrated groan. he sounds so close yet so far from you. you can feel the man’s arm move to adjust his grip. probably to try and flawlessly puncture your jaw.
if only you accepted to eat out with your friend. if only you turned around and went back to your dorm the moment you knew it was going to rain. if only you didn’t take this shortcut today.
if only your fates hadn’t clashed.
“one.”
TO BE CONTINUED. . .
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk x you#jjk angst#jjk x y/n#toji x you#please give it lots of love 🙇🏽♀️
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you are in love | ln4
lando norris x fem!bestfriend!reader
summary: where two childhood friends start to doubt about their feelings for each other
n/a: im backkk, i missed this anyway i hope you guys like this one, i hope it makes up for the time I was missing, remember my asks are open for any request, either eras tour one shots or any type of social media au )
masterlist
Lando was finally back in England, to spend his winter break with his family and friends. The cold air hit his face as soon as he got out of his car in front of the modern apartment building his best friend lived in. A glass revolving door stood in the middle of two giant windows that revealed the inside of the building, the hall and elevators.
He impatiently waited to see her after the doors of the elevator opened, they hadn't seen each other in a while, Lando was always too busy to visit her but did try to call her at least twice a week so he could hear her voice even if it was through the phone.
— So, what time is it there in… Where is it that you are now? I forgot —
— Abu Dhabi, it's almost nine o'clock I think, what about home, it's like six right? —
— Yeah, I have to go in a bit, I have you on speaker, getting dressed for a date right now —
— A date, with? Do I know him? —
— No, I don't think so, I know him from work, his name is Derek, he is from the USA I think, anyway, he is super super sweet. You would like him —
— If you say so, anyway, where are you and this, Derek, going —
— Um, I don't know, I guess probably a pub —
— A pub, for your first date ever, could've done something a little fancier, I would've taken you to a restaurant at least —
— Well first not everyone has your economic level, do they Lando and secondly, for your information he is taking me on a date not you — she, jokingly commented
— I wish I was — Lando said, under his breath, barely a whisper, she was not able to hear him through the noise of her blow drier.
— Did you say something? —
— What? Oh no, nothing at all —
— Well, I have to leave in like ten, so, thanks for this two hours Lan, I'll see you soon, right? I hope —
— Yeah, yeah. Abu Dhabi last race of the season so, in a few days I'll fly to you —
— That is, amazing, I've missed you lots, anyway, can not wait to see you, good bye —
The call cut off, before he could get to say goodbye, Daniel who sat by his side during the final moments of their conversation laughed at him.
— Just tell her you like her mate, it ain't that hard — His teammate said smiling, he swore he saw the connection between them.
— What are you even talking about — Lando, who had denied his feelings for his best friend ever since Daniel brought it up after the Silverstone grand prix, the last time she went to one of his races and he had annoyed Lando about it after that day.
— You just keep denying your feelings mate, just don't regret it when the one who ends up with her isn't you — Daniel replied, getting up from his seat and walking out of the room after hearing Zak calling them.
— Oh shut up Daniel — Lando said walking out behind him.
✩*⋆☾⋆｡°✩
— So, how've you been — Lando asked her after hugging each other for a few minutes as soon as they saw each other.
— Great, lately everything has been going so good, and you? —
— Yeah? That's amazing, I'm good, kinda sad Danny's leaving though but I have the feeling he'll end up hanging 'round the grid anyway —
— Yeah, I saw that, It's really sad — she mentioned
— Okay stop, no sad stuff. We see each other after five months and get depressing, get in the car, I promised you a coffee date and I'm getting you that coffee. —
— Oh my god, yes, let's go, please — She said, excitedly, he opened the door to his car, letting her in.
— So, you're gonna make me listen to Taylor? — He asked after getting in the car, their tradition was listening to her favorite artist when he drove so Taylor Swift was constantly playing through his car's speakers.
— How is that a question, that's offensive Lando Norris — She said jokingly, her phone automatically connecting to his car's bluetooth.
— Before we, um, get going, I got you something in Brazil, hope you like it — He said and handed her a small box, finding a small silver necklace inside.
— You are kidding! Lando I love it, it's gorgeous, seriously — Her fingers traced over the necklace looking at it with adoration, the boy beside her looking at her with adoration that she could not notice — Thank you so much, you didn’t have to. —
— When I saw it I thought you might like it, I'm happy I was right —
— Okay, let me put it on and we can leave, seriously Lando I love it — She confessed, their hands touched for a second when she gave him the necklace so he could put it on her.
Y/N placed her hair on her shoulder, so he could access her neck more easily. His hands grazed the necklace, making shivers run down her spine, the warmness of her skin contrasting with the coldness of his hands.
— Okay, we should get going, right? — She said, washing away the moment
— Yeah, sure — The car engine started and his hands reached the maneuver.
— So, how have you and this guy, Derek, was it? How's it been? — He asked, his eyes never leaving the road.
— Amazing honestly, I told he was super sweet, I'm taking him as a date to that party Max is doing next month — She commented, his grip over the maneuver tightened
— Yeah? Great, that's great — His mind spun around the words Daniel had said to him the day before their last race of the year, but still he could not get himself to admit his feelings.
yourusername
liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, dereklambert and 72,431 others
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— So, when is it starting again? — Y/N asked, straightening her hair in front of the mirror he had in his bedroom, they had a party that night planned by a friend of theirs.
— What? the party or…? —
— No, the season, when do you have to go back to traveling around the world —
— Like march or something but I think I'm gonna like do practices and stuff so I'll leave a bit earlier —
— Oh, so in like a month and a half, I'll miss you Lan — She said looking at him through the window.
— I promise I'll get you to come to more races, send you a private plane and all — He laughed walking up to her
— We should get going — Y/N said, turning around to face her friend.
— Sure, let's go —
Once already in the car, they kept chatting, Lando's eyes leaving the role for a second to look at her again, as if he could ever forget her silhouette.
— You didn't bring a date — Lando said after speaking about the party
— You didn't either, and? —
— Well I don't have anyone else to bring but you —
— Don't even lie, you have dozens of girls lining up to date you, besides we are bringing each other as a plus one —
— Yeah but I thought you would bring that guy you were talking to —
— Oh, um, we are not really talking anymore, I didn't feel much of a connection honestly — Lando didn't answer, he just looked at her, when they stopped at a red light, thousands of thoughts running through his mind at once. He prefered to stay silent this time.
— Anyway it's not that deep, not like I thought he was the love of my life but it is kind of awkward that I have to see him at work now —
— Then we'll find a job where you don't have to see him everyday — He joked making her laugh, oh how he wished he could be the only one to make her laugh that way.
✩*⋆☾⋆｡°✩
Lando's eyes opened wide, looking at the ceiling of his room. The imaginary feeling of his bestfriends lips lingered over his as if it had happened.
He had dreamt of a confession that night, from him to her, kisses on sidewalks and an ordinary life by her side. And then he knew it, what deep down he was sure of all along, he was in love
— Hey Lando… — His friend said, looking down at him from the bed, the last letter being pronounced a little longer.
— You're my best friend — He blurted out, to her seemingly out of nowhere
— You're mine too Lando — She replied smiling at him. — Anyway, I was gonna ask if you wanted to make breakfast, I'm dying to eat something —
— Sure yeah, let's go —
Y/N got up from the bed wearing one of Lando's shirts and a pair of shorts, also his. His eyes took in the view, thinking about how he could get used to her sight every morning.
When he finally got up from the matress, he found her listening to music put on his television.
— They got burned, sorry — She said, showing the, now black, toasts she had on the plate, laughing he walked up to her and grabbed the plate, putting it back on the table.
— Don't worry, we'll make more — Lando said, grabbing his friends hand and twirling her around making her laugh.
— Grant me a dance first — He said and she nodded lifting her shirt a bit, pretending it to be a dress, Something by The Beatles heard in the background, locking them in their own little bubble.
landonorris
liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell, alex_albon, and 851,790 others
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✩*⋆☾⋆｡°✩
Bahrain, first race of the year, back in the game. He had prepared himself for a month before it ready to start the season on top, at least top 10.
Unluckily for him, the race was everything but good for him and his team, Oscar dnf'd and he, well he ended up seventeenth, and with the three dnfs that meant he ended up last, on his first race of the season he was last, someone had to be of course but he thought the place would take it a Haas or a Williams, not a Mclaren and especially not him.
Where was he now? At the hotel bar, it was probably around 1 am and in front of him he counted around four now empty glasses that once had a drink. His phone was on his hand now, the phone number of his best friend appeared on the screen.
One, two, three calls later he decided to leave her a voice mail, confessing everything, to the last bit of love he had for her he poured in that message.
— I'm in love with you Y/N, so much since we were kids I think — That's the last thing she heard, after a minute of slurred words she could barely understand that was the only phrase she could hear clearly coming out of her best friends mouth through her phone.
She wanted to cry and scream into a pillow, break everything around her and jump and shput of happiness and go running to whatever part of the world he was in right now and give him the greatest kiss in the world.
Right now, Y/N found her self infront of her bestfriends house, the message telling him she was there had been sent a few seconds ago. She played with her hands impatiently waiting for him to open the door of his home.
— Hey, come in — Lando who had also been waiting for her impatiently said as soon as he opened the door.
She walked through the door before him and sat on the couch by his side. Her eyes went from her lap to his hands and back to her lap, never once looking at his eyes, nervous.
— I don't want this to ruin our friendship Y/N, it was stupid really, I was drunk after that shitty race —
— Lando shut up — She smiled at him and her hands touched his now the contact made him stop talking — I love you too — The confession made him look up, his eyes on hers surprised
— You do, huh, um… I didn't plan what to say if that happened —
— You don't need to tell me anything, although I would like to hear you saying what you told me on that voice mail, but first — Her lips on his, like in his dream that last night they were together after the party. Lando's hands touched the end of her hair, something he knew she loved and then moved to her back
When they finally pulled away Lando spoke — I love you, so much, I dreamt of this, literally — He chuckled and moved a strand of hair that covered her face, his hand cupped the face of the girl infront of him, who smiled after his words.
— My mom is going to be so happy about this — She said laughing and resting her face on his chest
— Yeah mine too and Danny, oh my god, I think he was the first one to realize my feelings for you — He joined her laughter thinking about his friends reaction to the fact that they had told each other they were in love.
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yourusername You can see it with the lights out, lights out. You are in love, true love
landonorris childhood friends to lovers like all the books you love
lilymhe love you two ♡
danielricciardo FINALLYY GOD HEARD MY PRAYERS
user4 danny being their biggest fans, i love this.
user5 I KNEW THEY WERE IN LOVE SEEE
user6 A TAYLOR SONG IM DEAD
user7 actually my parents
taglist ;; @amayakingw @f1wh0r3 @misiafix @dan3avocado @thtbwltts @myaurorasandsadprose @qualitygiantshoepsychic @myescapefromthislife @light-23 @magical-imagination-kgp @leclercsbae @here-comes-the-moose @leclercs-posts
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#taylor swift x f1#f1 social media au#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#Spotify
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series masterlist | last part
pairing: modern!actor!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 8.1k words
warnings: explicit language, angst, fluff, smut (18+)
summary: it’s ten months of texts, phone calls, voicemails, anything to make it feel like everything isn’t too different. and for the most part, it works. until you and steve finally see each other again
EPILOGUE | ❝𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆❞
You: How’s New York so far?
Steve: Good aside from Tom trying to force me to do more press stuff than what we initially agreed on and I’ve only been here three days
You: I kinda miss that british man
Steve: That truly offends me</3
You: I’m sorry<3
You: Okay very very important question
You: Empire State of Mind or Welcome to New York?
Steve: ????
You: You’re in New York for the next month so one of them has to be your signature song (and yes this is coming from the person that has only been to New York a handful of times. shut up don’t mention it)
Steve: Can I say no to both of them?
You: No.
Steve: Okay then
Steve: The Taylor Swift one
You: Solid answer
You: Now I will start your morning right every day you’re there by sending you lyrics from that song :)
Steve: Oh god
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Steve: What was the name of that show we watched for almost five hours at your place that one night?
You: It sincerely hurts me that you forgot the name of Brooklyn Nine-Nine….
Steve: Yes, that’s it! I was thinking about this one episode we watched of it but I couldn’t remember the name
You: Are you about to watch it without me? (if the answer is yes that hurts me even more)
Steve: Yes I was… But now no way I would never watch it without you
You: A true friend. Thank you
Steve: Oh wait I’m just now realizing how late it is where you are. How are you even talking to me right now?
You: Yeah, it’s 2am but I can’t sleep. First day of real filming tomorrow. First day being AD. And yes all the pre-production stuff me and Jessie have been doing since we got to Spain two weeks ago has been perfectly leading to this moment, but now it just feels so fucking real and even though I know I’m not gonna mess up or anything I’m still nervous
Steve: You’re gonna do great and actually I think it’s impossible for you not to be really good at what you do
You: Thank you
Steve: I would suggest that I call you and we watch an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine to take your mind off things but you should sleep
You: No actually can we do that? I’m wide awake right now and I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep anytime soon
You: Also fun fact: I’m actually able to function better when I’m running on barely three hours of sleep
Steve: That’s a huge lie but okay
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“… Please leave a message after the beep.”
You listened to the all-too familiar sound of the “beep” and then began speaking. “Okay, I know it’s like three in the morning in LA right now, so it completely makes sense why you didn’t answer. But, anyway, I just landed in London last night and now it’s morning and I’m at the coffee shop that you told me I should go to while I’m here.”
“It’s really, really great, and I hate how right you are about the tea being amazing, and it actually makes me change my mind about how much I dislike tea. Oh, also, I got my first ever British scone from here and it’s so good too. I think I’ll probably be spending every day at this place while I’m here for the next month.”
“And I know you raved a lot about the breakfast sandwiches here too, so I will try that tomorrow. I think you said that the bacon one was your favorite, but please confirm that because I can’t fully remember… Oh, wait, nevermind, it’s definitely the bacon because I do remember you saying that you miss it a lot.”
“I could bring you one back if you want? No, wait, actually, that wouldn’t make sense because even when I leave London, I’m still gonna be in Europe for three more months… Wait, I see that they sell coffee mugs here, though, so I could definitely bring you back that if you wanted me to? They have some cool options.”
“Alright, I think I’m just rambling at this point so let me shut up.” You let out a small laugh. “Okay, bye.”
Call Ended
-
You: *image attached*
You: Enjoy that picture of me being the most touristy tourist in the world :)
Steve: I can’t believe you’re doing the leaning tower of pisa pose thing
You: I had to. I couldn’t come here and not do it. It feels like tradition. A rite of passage, if you will
Steve: You’re such a dork
You: Joke’s on you because I fully take that as a compliment, so thank you
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The feeling of your phone vibrating in the back pocket of the jeans you were wearing surprised you because you thought you had turned it off for the day. And then seeing Steve’s name take over your phone screen further surprised you, but you didn’t hesitate to answer the call.
“Hi,” You said. You were on a break for the first time that day, so the timing of his call was actually kind of perfect. “This is a pretty nice surprise.”
“Hey, how’s it going?” It felt really good actually hearing his voice for the first time in what felt like forever.
“Pretty good. I never thought I’d actually find myself truly missing LA, but now I kinda can’t wait to be back there in three weeks,” You answered, saying what had been on your mind for a while at this point. “How’s Vancouver?”
“Nice so far. It’s actually been snowing a lot, but I like it.”
“I hope you've been doing all of the snow and Winter activities; making snow angels, sledding down hills. Y’know, all the stuff they do in children’s Christmas movies.”
You almost immediately heard Steve laugh at your words. “The apartment I’m staying at here has a balcony, and last night after it stopped snowing I made a really small snowman.”
You smiled. “I love that. Please send me a picture of it.”
“Okay.”
Things became quiet for a moment, and it was a silence that easily felt comfortable and you didn’t mind it at all. Simply knowing that Steve was on the other end of the call felt like enough.
“This is a random thought, but we never usually talk on the phone. Mainly because our time zones are insanely different, so the timing is never right, and we’re either leaving each other voicemails or just texting, which is fine. But it’s really nice hearing your voice. It’s just… really comforting.” You let out a soft breath. “Where I am right now and where I’ve been the past five-ish months have become my makeshift “homes,” but talking to you actually feels like home, in a way… And I know exactly how disgustingly cheesy that sounds. Don’t say anything about it, or I will end this call.”
Steve laughed a bit. “No, I agree with you. We’ve talked about feeling lonely before, but even though we haven’t seen each other in what feels like a really long time, whenever we text and especially when we talk on the phone, it’s hard to feel lonely. It’s like all of these miles between us don’t really matter, which is nice. You’re my “home” too.”
You were quiet for a second, fully taking in his words and smiling at how happy they made you feel. It was the kind of happiness where you also kind of felt like crying.
You loved what you had been doing currently with your job and you wouldn’t have changed any of it, but you also really wished that you could see Steve right then; you would’ve killed for a hug.
“Okay, I think I should go before I start crying,” You said, only slightly joking with your words. “Also, I only have ten more minutes of my break, and I haven’t eaten since this morning.”
“Oh shit, I’m sorry.”
You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you. “No, don’t be sorry. Like I said, I really like when we can actually talk to each other. I like hearing your voice.”
“I like hearing yours too,” He told you and somehow it was easy to hear the smile in his tone. “Okay, I’m gonna hang up now. Go eat something.”
“Aye, aye captain,” You said with a small laugh. “Talk to you soon.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You: I just watched the final cut of Fear of Lonesome with Jessie… Enjoy this picture of me currently bawling my eyes out at the ending
You: *image attached*
Steve: Sorry for making you cry?
You: It was worth it, honestly
Steve: You’re coming to the cast and crew screening next week right?
You: Of course. I will happily cry at this movie again :)
You: It’s kinda really fucked up how good of an actor you are
Steve: Thank you? At least I think that’s a compliment
You: It is<3
You: Anyway I’ll see you next week then
You: The first time in a really really long time. Holy shit
Steve: That feels a little weird to think about. But a good kind of weird
You: Yeah definitely the good kind
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It was a moment that was ten months in the making.
Ten months of texts, voicemails, and sporadic phone calls. Ten months of being so far apart from one another, but doing so much to make it feel like you weren’t.
It was all leading here— seeing Steve in person at the small theater in West Hollywood that had been rented out for the night’s occasion. And when you saw him, talking to random members of the cast and crew, it didn’t exactly feel real, which made you not say anything.
Until he saw you and your eyes met and small smiles were quickly shared. You gave him a small nod before you got pulled into a conversation with someone.
He looked a little different, hair grown out a bit more and there was something minorly different about his stance, but overall he was still your Steve. Well, not technically yours, but close enough. You then wondered if he thought you looked any different. You personally felt a bit different, in a good way; like you’d become better over the past ten months, and in some ways, more of yourself.
It was almost amusing how, most of the time, the time seemed to move slowly over the past ten months, but now it was suddenly moving so much faster.
Everyone left the lobby area and started making their way inside the room that the screening would be happening in since it was scheduled to start in five minutes, but you and Steve lingered back, walking toward each other until there were only a few beats of space between you two.
You smiled at him again. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He stepped forward to close the rest of the distance between you and pull you in for a hug, but you stepped back.
“Oh, I don’t know if I’m allowed to hug you. Y’know given that you’re an engaged man and all.” You tried to be completely serious with your words but it was hard not to laugh at least a little bit.
According to many celebrity news outlets, Steve and his female costar of the limited series he’d been filming in Vancouver for the past five months were dating. It was a rumor that started about two months into filming, and there had been no confirmations about the said relationship but there were also no hard denials, so the speculations continued. And then there were even a handful of news outlets that went quite insane with their headlines and said that the two were secretly engaged. You both had laughed about it then when you sent that article to him, because the rumors were hilariously ridiculous, and you couldn’t not joke about it now.
“Ha ha,” He said, voice deadpan. “I didn’t even get to tell you, but Tom suggested that me and Lily actually start fake dating because, in addition to all of this giving so much more press to the show, it could also help me. If I’m dating someone it will fully “kill off the asshole image.” I immediately vetoed that idea, though.”
Although the asshole narrative that surrounded Steve still existed— not as prominent as it once was but it still lingered whenever his name was brought up by the media— it was hard to see him like that anymore.
You let out a laugh. “Of course Tom would suggest that.”
“Yeah, he’s…” Steve trailed off with a quick shake of his head. “Anyway, c’mere.”
You walked into his open arms that time, pushing up on your toes to circle your arms around his neck as his wrapped around your waist. Your eyes fell shut as he held you tight and it was then that the time felt like it started to move slow again.
“I have something for you,” You told him after a moment, words getting somewhat lost in his neck but he was still able to hear you. “A little gift. It’s in my car, I’ll give it to you after.”
“I also have something for you,” Steve whispered, and you opened your eyes at that.
You pulled back from the hug, still smiling at him. “Great minds, hm?”
He nodded and matched your smile with one of his own. Seeing him right then still didn’t entirely feel real just yet, so you went quiet once again and the two of you simply looked at each other.
During the past ten months you and him had talked pretty much all of the time, but there was something different about this moment. Feelings that you thought you had successfully pushed far away rushed right back to the surface.
“We should head inside,” He said, breaking the silence and pulling you out of your thoughts, which you were grateful for because you really didn’t want to think right then, especially not about that.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You were the one that suggested Steve come back to your place and the small gift exchange happen there.
The screening felt as if it ended too soon and the inevitability of the night itself ending started to hang in the air. However, you couldn’t allow that to happen; you wanted this night to last as long as it could.
Steve agreed with your suggestion and thirty minutes after various goodbyes were said, the two of you were sitting on your couch as a frozen pizza that you’d just bought yesterday cooked in the oven because both of you were hungry.
You were already wearing the navy blue oversized crewneck he got you that had “Vancouver” embroidered in white across the front of it. It was comfortable and perfect, and a simple gift but also the best thing you’d received in a while.
“I hope you like this,” You said as you handed him the gift you’d gotten for him; a cream colored mug with the logo of a coffee shop in brown lettering on the side. “I know you said that you were okay with not getting a mug from that coffee shop in London, but I just really wanted to get you this one.”
Steve looked at the mug for a second and then at you, a smile on his face. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” You said and your fingers started mindlessly playing with the hem of your crewneck as you continued speaking. “I’ve missed you a lot this past year. I know we talked so often and everything, but being right here, in person, feels really nice.”
“I’ve missed you too,” He said softly before he placed the mug on the coffee table barely a few feet away and then met your eyes again. “There were so many times where I wanted to just drop everything and go see you. Rearrange plans or cancel some stupid press stuff and meet up with you. Even if it would only be for barely a day or whatever. I just always wanted to see you.”
You wanted to tell him how much you related to his words. You wanted to say how there were a countless amount of times where you had yearned to do the exact same thing. However, you couldn’t find the words to tell Steve any of that, so instead you only looked at him for a bit.
It was almost funny how many times you had become at a loss of words so far that night simply because of him. But it was as if the fact that you were suppressing so much made you unable to say pretty much anything. Because you were scared of where exactly your mind would go if you didn’t immediately shut down some of your thoughts that involved you and Steve, especially now that he was right here instead of thousands of miles away and no longer solely limited to the confines of your phone.
He was your friend. Best friend. And it had been so much easier to pretend that that was where you and him solely began and ended when you both were so far away from each other— when he wasn’t right in front of you and you weren’t so easily reminded of how close you two used to be in such a different way.
Those same revived feelings from earlier that night came right back again, and they practically increased tenfold because you found yourself wanting to kiss him so fucking badly. And, of course, there was a part of your mind that immediately told you just how bad of an idea that would be. However, at that moment, you became okay with all logical thinking being pushed out of the window.
In your mind it felt like you were moving in slow motion, scooting closer to him on the couch and sliding into his lap so that your legs were on either side of him, but in reality it was happening so much quicker. However, you stopped there before you did anything else.
You could see some confusion in his eyes and also something else that you couldn’t fully decipher, maybe he was contemplating things as much as you had been before you decided to take this sort of plunge.
That look was almost enough to wake you up and remind you of what had been agreed upon all those months ago, but it wasn’t enough to make you pull away from Steve. However, instead of sliding off of his lap or moving things further, you gave the metaphorical ball to him.
You let silence hang in the air as the two of you simply looked at each other and you gave him the opportunity to push you away. To tell you that there wasn’t any part of him that wanted this to happen. That he was so far past feeling anything like that toward you anymore. That he never even thought about it.
You would’ve been okay with any of those things happening because even though it would’ve hurt, it would actually make things a thousand times easier.
But, he didn’t do or say any of that. Instead, he closed the last bit of space between you two and slotted his lips against yours.
It was an immovable and obvious fact that you had missed him so much over the past ten months, but you now realized that you had missed this just as much. A soft kiss that almost immediately turned into something more with one of Steve’s hands coming up to cup your cheek and the other finding your hip to keep you steady. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth when his tongue ran across your bottom lip making the kiss deeper, and your hands fisted themselves into his t-shirt to bring yourself impossibly closer to him.
For the time being, you effectively turned your mind off. You deliberately chose not to think about what this exactly meant or what it would come to mean. All you focused on in that moment was how fucking good doing this with Steve felt.
Your hands found the hem of your crewneck because you suddenly felt way too hot and you pulled away from Steve for a second so that you could slip it over your head, leaving you in just your black tank top and shorts.
You became so lost in the pure happiness of everything that was happening right then that you couldn’t hear anything except your heart pounding in your ears and the soft sounds Steve was managing to elicit from you due to the way he was squeezing your hips.
“The oven,” He mumbled against your lips, which slowly snapped you out of the haze you were in. “The oven is beeping.”
It was then that you heard the incessant noise; almost too loud and clear.
You abruptly pulled away from Steve and maneuvered off of his lap. “Oh, shit.”
He followed you into the kitchen as you opened up the oven and used a mitt to grab the circular pan the pizza was on and place it atop the stove.
“That was, um…” You trailed off not knowing exactly where you wanted to go with your words.
Steve shook his head. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”
“I don’t regret what just happened,” You blurted out. They were the words that pretty much mimicked what was said after the first time you two ever had sex. But, instead of those words first coming from Steve they were coming from you. “And I don’t really know what that means, and I kinda don’t wanna think about what it means right now. I kinda just don’t wanna think at all right now. Sometimes I feel like I think way too much when it comes to us.”
He was quiet for a second before he nodded at you. “Okay.”
His hands found your hips and you were softly pressed against the side of the kitchen counter. You two shared a look that felt as if it was saying a million things, none of which you particularly wanted to decipher right then.
Before things could stay silent for too long, before you accidentally let your mind fall down a spiraling rabbit hole, you nodded a bit and mimicked Steve’s previous word. “Okay.”
His hands came up to cup your face before he leaned in to kiss you again. You didn’t waste a second to push yourself onto the counter and Steve’s lips found your neck, roughly kissing and nipping at the skin. Your hands started playing with the hem of his t-shirt before circling in the loops of his jeans and pulling him flush against you. When you felt his hardness press against your inner thigh, you took in a sharp breath and let out a soft moan. You were completely certain that you would’ve let him pull off your shorts and underwear and do whatever he wanted to do to you against your kitchen counter if you weren’t reminded of something else.
“The pizza?” You mumbled, a bit unable to form the question coherently because all you could really focus on was the feeling of Steve’s mouth against you.
He pulled away from your neck and met your eyes. “We can eat it after.”
He didn’t have to specify further for you to know exactly what he meant. You smiled and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. “Yeah, after sounds perfect.”
It became a blur of movements after those words fell from your lips. His hands found the backs of your thighs and he picked you up— the abruptness of the action made you simultaneously yelp and laugh as your arms came up to circle around his neck. You were carried to your bedroom and softly placed down against the unmade bed. Clothes were quickly shed until there was nothing between you and him.
No words were said in these rushed moments where hands and mouths roamed almost everywhere on each other's bodies; the brief looks shared and breathy noises coming from both of you were enough.
It was as if one mind was being shared or a song that only you two knew the words to was playing and both of you were singing along. Your hands were in his hair, softly pulling because the groans he’d let out were probably the hottest thing you’d ever heard. And his middle finger softly teased your clit as he whispered the filthiest things in your ear because he knew just how much that would make you lose it.
It had been almost a year but neither of you forgot these little things about one another and it almost felt like second nature to be with each other in this way. There wasn’t a hint of nervousness or awkwardness, and maybe that was saying a lot more than you wanted to admit.
You were positive that if you fully thought about what was happening right then, your mind wouldn’t hesitate to yell at you that this was a bad idea; that it would only make things complicated, and start you both back at square one.
However, it would also tell you that the times in your life where you felt your happiest and most comfortable mainly consisted of moments with Steve, and that was something that felt as if it would never change.
Therefore, when he slipped inside you with a low groan that you caught with your mouth and proceeded to make you come faster than you had in such a long time, it was hard to feel anything but completely happy.
Your legs wrapped around him, coaxing him deeper inside of you and soft “pleases” fell from your lips begging him to come. And after a particularly hard thrust, he let out a loud “Fuck” and came inside of you, and you couldn’t do anything but moan at the feeling of his cum painting your walls.
The weight of him crushed you in the most comforting way possible, and you tilted your head upward a bit to meet his lips in a soft and lazy kiss. The two of you stayed just like that for a while, coming down from your highs and letting your racing hearts return to normal. Your head fell back against your pillow, eyes closing, but you didn’t feel tired.
“When those articles about you and Lily dating started coming out, I knew exactly how ridiculous the rumors were because I feel like we have the kind of… friendship where you’d tell me if you were dating someone… But, there was still a small part of me that believed it for a second, and it was actually so hard to not feel a little sad about it.” Your words came out quiet, and you actually had no idea why you had just said all of that— perhaps that confession did not make for the best post-sex pillow talk conversation. But, for some reason, you wanted to say it.
It was a thought that had weighed on you all those months ago, and you knew that you couldn’t tell that to him then because of what it implied. And you weren’t entirely sure why and what made this moment different from then.
Steve was quiet for a bit and his face was buried in your neck as he softly spoke. “I don’t really know what to say to that.”
“It’s okay,” You whispered back. “You don’t have to say anything. It was dumb of me to feel that way about it.”
He rolled off of you and the feel of his warmth against you was something that you missed almost immediately. For a second you thought that maybe you ruined this moment, whatever it was, but then he said something.
“What are you doing this weekend?” He asked, and you were grateful for the randomness of the subject change.
You let out a breath that you didn't know you’d been holding and turned on your side to face him. “For once, absolutely nothing. It’ll probably be the last time I actually have nothing to do before the documentary I’m helping out on starts filming in a month, and I have to do some pre-production stuff for it soon.”
Work was honestly the only thing in your life that felt completely certain, so it always felt easy to talk about.
“You should come to New York. I’m going tomorrow, and I'll be there until the premiere here for the movie next week. I have to do some press stuff and have a few meetings. A bunch of boring stuff, but you should come for the weekend,” Steve said, one hand finding your bare hip and softly rubbing the skin. “To make the boring stuff a lot less boring.”
You couldn’t help but smile at that, and you nodded at him, quickly deciding not to think too heavily about your answer. “Okay.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It was a little surprising that it wasn’t surprising how easy things fell back into that old place with you and Steve. Back to what sort of resembled the “arrangement” that had started during filming a year ago where you two pretty much acted like you were in a relationship, but neither of you would say the words or wholeheartedly acknowledge that fact.
There was a lot that you two would eventually have to talk about, but you decided that that would be a bridge that you’d cross once you were hours away from getting on your flight back to California. And it was a flight that kept changing because you didn’t want to leave New York just yet; you didn’t want to leave Steve yet.
So, your weekend trip extended days upon days until Wednesday came and it was agreed upon that you’d just go back to Los Angeles Friday morning when Steve was heading back there as well because that was the same day as the movie premiere.
You had a little work to do during those first few weekdays you were there, but you found it easy to respond to emails and make the phone calls you needed to from the comfort of Steve’s apartment, which was smaller than his place in LA but of course still massive and had a great view of Central Park. The dining room area became your makeshift “work from home” spot with your laptop at the table at pretty much all times. And while you did that, Steve was off doing press stuff for the movie, or he was in meetings; the things aside from filming that came along with being a famous actor.
And then when the day would change into the evening and then night, you two were together, doing everything that you both had desperately missed doing. You two still knew each other’s bodies so well, and it was as if that fact was only further and further proven every night.
It was hard not to be close to each other when for so long, you hadn’t been able to be, and because of that, things became a little different this time around in comparison to what the “arrangement” had been. There were little touches and affections— holding hands while sitting as close as you possibly could on the couch or Steve kissing you goodbye before he’d leave the apartment— that hadn’t happened before because of the lines that had been metaphorically drawn, but they felt pretty blurred now.
A sort of routine quickly and almost effortlessly formed and it gave you that glimpse into what you and him could be if the circumstances were slightly different. And it was hard not to admit that you completely adored what this “what if” looked like.
“We need snacks.” Your words were random and abrupt and Steve only looked at you amusingly.
It was Wednesday night, days before things would inevitably change, and you weren’t completely sure what they’d change into— if they’d go back to the normal you had created with Steve where the two of you were friends and nothing more, or if things changed into something else entirely. You still completely avoided thinking about it all, and it was pretty damn nice living in this fantasy world.
The two of you were on the couch in his living room. Your legs were draped over his lap and a blanket covered you both.
One of Steve’s hands was absentmindedly rubbing your leg beneath the blanket as he spoke. “There’s some stuff in the pantry.”
“If we’re about to spend the entire night watching The Hunger Games movies we need more than just the chips to keep us alive.”
His eyebrows furrowed at your words. “Am I underestimating how long these movies are?”
“You definitely are,” You said with a small laugh and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. You then pulled off the blanket that had been draped over the both of you and stood up from the couch. “I’ll go to the convenience store down the street.”
Steve got up as well. “I’ll come too.”
You quickly shook your head. “No way. It’s kinda insane how the paparazzi seem way more ruthless here. I think they’re always camping outside the building.”
Over the past few days, you had come to the conclusion that it was lucky that Steve lived in an apartment building because whenever you would leave and come back, no one could ever know that you were there for him. And you knew just how big of a field day they would have if they did know, especially because of the dating rumors that were still circling about him and Lily.
“Yeah, way too many famous people live here,” Steve said as he followed you into his bedroom.
Your small suitcase, that had only been meant for a weekend trip and was packed as such, was a haphazard mess in the corner. You slipped off the shorts you were wearing and pulled on a black pair of leggings.
“And yet, I’ve still not run into Paul Rudd on the elevator since I’ve been here,” You jokingly said and expected Steve to laugh, but instead he bypassed your statement.
“Wait, it’s raining. You sure you’re gonna be okay out there?”
You smiled at his slightly concerned face. “Okay, I know I’ve been living in LA for a long time now, but don’t worry I have in fact experienced rain before.”
Steve shook his head at you but still couldn’t help but laugh a little at your words. “Hold on.”
He almost immediately walked away, heading into his closet, before you could ask him what he was doing, and then returned moments later with a hoodie and umbrella.
“I was already planning to steal a hoodie, but thanks for the umbrella,” You told him with a smile as you put on the plain black hoodie. “What kind of candy do you want me to get?”
“Skittles.”
“Solid answer,” You responded with a nod.
The two of you headed toward the front door and you put on your shoes that were next to it. Once you were done, Steve handed you the umbrella. He then pulled the hood of the hoodie over your head and then leaned in to press a kiss on your nose. “Don’t meet Paul Rudd on the elevator.”
You laughed a bit. “I’m sorry, but I really, really hope I do.”
You didn’t meet Paul Rudd on the elevator, and you told Steve that with an over dramatic sad sigh when you came back from the store twenty minutes later, a bag full of junk food in hand, before you both settled back on the couch.
The two of you were only able to fully watch the first two Hunger Games movies before falling asleep an hour into the third one, around two in the morning. You half-woke up when the credits were rolling and then lightly poked Steve awake so that you two could go to his actual bed for the rest of the night.
“This is how it would be, y’know,” Steve said in the morning, words slightly getting lost in your hair.
The two of you were cuddled in his bed, your back pressed against his front and one of his arms draped over your waist. You had just finished having a half-awake discussion about what to do for breakfast before he said that he had to leave soon for the final day of press interviews for the movie, but he told you about a bagel place nearby that you’d probably like. And then the conversation shifted to a pinky promise agreement that you and him would finish the final two Hunger Games movies that night.
Things became quiet after that, with both of you savoring the last few minutes you could spend in bed, and you found his hand, intertwining it with yours and pulling it up to kiss the back of it.
You almost shifted around to face Steve after he abruptly said his previous words, but you felt too comfortable in your current position to do so. “How what would be?”
“You and me if we decided to be something real.”
“Steve,” You said softly and then decided to shift around so that you were looking at him. His hair was a little disheveled and he looked pretty tired, but he also looked so cute. If he hadn’t just abruptly pushed open the door to the conversation that you knew needed to happen, you were certain that you would’ve kissed him right then.
“I’m just saying...” He said as his shoulders upturned in a small shrug. “Also, I’m slightly kidding. This week has been really good, and I’m glad we got to have it, but I know things will go back to… normal soon. And that’s okay.”
Hearing him say that— confirming that things would just go back to how they were, a friendship where you both seemed to just lie about what you really wanted and how you felt— made you get hit with the sudden realization that you hated the thought of going back to that.
However, for some reason, you couldn’t find the words to tell him that right then, so instead you nodded at what he had just said and plastered on a fake smile. You made your voice sound as light as possible. “Yeah.”
He left the apartment forty-minutes later and you left it twenty minutes after that, deciding to go to the bagel place he suggested because you were hungry and also because you didn’t want to be alone in his apartment with only your confusing and contradicting thoughts to keep you company.
However, somehow as you walked aimlessly around Central Park— your bag with your plain cream cheese bagel in one hand and iced coffee in the other— that was when it felt like the dam broke, and your mind started spiraling because it finally felt impossible to keep avoiding and pushing your thoughts away. You were finally facing the bridge that you had told yourself you’d eventually have to cross, and in your head, you could see that the end of it was leading in two completely different directions. And you knew the exact direction you wanted to go in.
Your friendship with Steve was supposed to be more than enough. That was what you had told yourself that night at the wrap party to convince yourself that you were completely okay with only having a friendship with him.
But now, after these past five days of getting that glimpse into what something more could look like, you knew that just being friends really wasn’t enough, and it never would be. And although a part of you still felt a little scared to risk it all, there was an even bigger part of you that didn’t want to give this up anymore.
You couldn’t give up how completely and irrevocably happy Steve made you in more ways than just friendship. It was a mixture of the butterflies you’d get in your stomach whenever he would pull you close to him to press a soft kiss against your forehead or cheek and the wide smile you’d get on your face when he’d come back to the apartment after being gone for hours. It was also how he would look at you so adoringly when you would ramble about work stuff and how he could easily manage to convince you to stay in bed for “five more minutes;” five minutes that would always turn into at least ten but you never cared.
Steve Harrington made you the happiest you’d ever been and you suddenly became tired of continuously avoiding that fact.
It was a series of quick but definitely long overdue actions that happened next.
You found yourself sitting on a park bench with the thought of eating your bagel or drinking more of your coffee long forgotten for the time being, and instead they simply sat next to you, because there was something else you needed to do at that moment. You pulled out your phone and went to Steve’s contact, pressing the call button before you could think twice about it.
It went straight to voicemail, just like you knew it would because he always kept it off during interviews, so you waited for the way too familiar “beep” sound and then started speaking.
“Hi,” Your voice came out softer than you expected it to, so you cleared your throat. “I knew that you weren’t gonna answer, and I’m kinda glad that you didn’t because I just want to get all of this out all at once. So, stay tuned for a very long-winded ramble from me.” You let out a small laugh. “Um, anyway, these past five days that I’ve been here in New York with you have been so good, like insanely good, and I’ve been avoiding thinking about what would happen after this and what would exactly change between us. And I was completely okay with not thinking about any of that because it made it easier to just live in the moment and be happy with what we’ve been doing. But then this morning, you said that it’s okay that things will go back to normal soon and that finally made me think about everything, and I realized that I don’t want us to go back to “normal.” I actually kind of hate the thought of doing so.”
You stopped for a moment, gaze becoming fixated on a group of friends that had blankets spread out in the grass and were having a picnic not that far away from you, and then you looked at a couple that was walking down one of the paths holding hands.
After taking a quick breath, you kept going. “You’re so important to me, and our friendship is so important to me too… But I love you. I’m in love with you. And because of that, I can’t just be your friend. I want more, I want us to be something real; and that’s pretty much exactly what you said that night at my apartment almost a year ago. I’m so sorry that it’s taken me this long to realize just how fucking great we are together.”
Your hand that wasn’t holding your phone to your ear began absentmindedly playing with the hem of the sweatshirt you were wearing; it was the Vancouver crewneck he got for you.
“I want us to have days like this past week forever. And I know that this week has kind of been a fluke because, for the first time in a really long time, our schedules worked out pretty well. But we can make this work. I know we can. I was an idiot to say that we don’t make sense before because we do. Yes, our lives pull us in pretty different directions most of the time, and it sucks, but it's okay because it doesn’t change how I feel about you, and it never will. And I think that's the most important thing. It's why I know we, us, can actually work.”
You leaned back against the wooden bench and let out a breath. “Okay, wow, I’m so surprised that I haven’t been cut off yet… I’m currently sitting on a park bench in Central Park, and I got a bagel and coffee from the place you mentioned. I haven’t tried the bagel yet, but the coffee’s pretty good…” You trailed off with a shake of your head and then laughed a bit. “I have no idea why I’m telling you that right now. Um, anyway, I’m gonna stop talking now, and I’ll see you back at the apartment later. Bye.”
When you ended the call and pocketed your phone away, you felt an immediate weight lift off of your shoulders and you let out a contented sigh that turned into a small laugh.
You waited for a second, though, waited for something that resembled dread or regret to suddenly hit you, but it never did. And that was what let you know that what you’d just done was fully the right thing to do.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Hours later, you still felt nothing but complete contentment with what you had done, leaving the minute and a half long voicemail that would, in fact, change everything. You wanted it to change everything.
After responding to a handful of work emails and then enduring an hour-long phone call with one of the Producer’s of the soon-to-be filming documentary, you were in the kitchen searching for some sort of a snack to eat. However, hearing the sound of the front door opening halted your rummaging.
“Hi,” You said, watching Steve enter the apartment and then close and lock the door behind him.
He met your eyes almost immediately. “I really loved that voicemail.”
You smiled at him, at how quickly he wanted to address the elephant in the room before it really even had a chance to enter. “Yeah?”
He didn’t hesitate to nod his head and he smiled back at you. “Yeah. I’m never deleting it.”
He looked so happy as he walked over to you where you were leaning against the kitchen island, and that look made your heart constrict in your chest.
“I love you,” It didn’t feel the tiniest bit scary to say the words right to him, they just felt so honest and undeniable. Your voice was soft and your arms came up to wrap around his neck, hands immediately finding home in the hair at the nape.
“Mm,” His eyes slipped shut as his arms circled around you, pulling you against him. “Say it again.”
Your mouth was right against his ear as you spoke. “I love you.”
He hummed again and then pulled back a bit, his nose brushed against yours and his lips did the same. It was all so teasing, like he wanted to take his absolute time with kissing you. However, now it didn’t have to be slow or drawn out because none of this was going to abruptly end; there was no expiration date apart of this like the arrangement you had a year ago.
“I love you too,” He said before finally slotting his lips against yours.
There was so much expressed in the soft kiss. It completely felt like the beginning of something new, something better, rather than simply a continuation of what you two had. The kiss was so certain and sure and it only further confirmed to you that everything happening was right and good and perfect. This was what you had wanted from the moment the two of you made that pinky promise during the wrap party; the one where you both said that you wouldn’t let your friendship end. Technically, it wasn’t being broken.
You pulled away when you started feeling lightheaded and you met Steve’s gaze as you allowed yourself to breathe for a bit. You were quiet for only a second.
“This will work,” You whispered.
Steve nodded and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, it will.”
The three simple words comforted you, they wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you savored the feel of them. For the first time, probably ever, your overthinking mind felt sated; it couldn’t find anything wrong about this moment. You finally felt like you could breathe so goddamn easy because there was nothing to truly worry about, and you found yourself wanting to cry at that feeling, but you didn’t. Instead, you kissed Steve’s cheek and then his other one, and then his nose and forehead.
“This is random, but I’m really, really glad that I was forced to be your assistant.”
Steve laughed a bit at that. “Sometimes it doesn’t even really feel like that's where we started.” His hands found yours, intertwining them and giving them a light squeeze. “But, I’m so fucking glad that it was you.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
author’s note: i'm gonna miss these two<333 i hope yall enjoyed this series! its been a rollercoaster fr (a good one for the most part though lol) i might do lil blurbs for these two someday because i'm way too attached to them and i have some minor ideas of some things i'd wanna do involving them.... but that probably won't happen for a while because after somehow being able to put out chapters weekly for this i do in fact need a Break lmao but anyway thank you for reading and enjoying this series🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington series#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things fic#stranger things fluff#stranger things imagine
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Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Twenty Nine.
Previous Chapters - One Two, Part One Part Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two Twenty Three Twenty Four Twenty Five Twenty Six Twenty Seven Twenty Eight
Words - 5,427
Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed
Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!
Angel's POV
"The soothing, relaxing, vibrating girlfriend," I hum softly to Edie, while she lies naked on top of me, shaking yet boiling hot. Flu is a fucker, and right now it's fucking her big time.
"Don't, don't make me laugh or I'll start coughing again!" she exclaims, before doing just that, hacking her lungs up. I reach over to the nightstand and pick up her bottle of cough syrup, which she takes a mouthful of before I stretch to return it there and continue idly stoking her nakedness. Lying against me like this is very soothing for her since she's almost permanently boiling hot, and with my body temperature being that of a stone, I work well in reducing her raging fever. She's been sick for three days now, and when I dropped the note in to Tyrell Cleaves at the CD he wasn't impressed, even questioning Charles and his worth as a doctor.
I stayed around for the phone call he made to Charles, and stood there laughing quietly when my 'father' blasted him with a barrage of accolades and then asked him if he'd like a diagnosis for his ignorance, because he'd be happy to give him one. 'The letters after my name actually mean something, you know, you dull-witted oaf!' Charles raged at him before hanging up. I was in hysterics as soon as I got outside of the building. Edie laughed too when I'd arrived home later that night and told her.
"You know, I actually wanted to book a little time off work so I could spend some time with you, but this wasn't exactly what I had planned, being so sick I can hardly fucking move," she complains, her shudders still not stopping.
"In turn, I hate seeing you like this, knowing there ain't much I can do about it," I lament, stroking her damp hair and kissing her head. She's all clammy with sweat right now.
"Isn't much you can do? Angel, you've been looking after me for the last three days, putting me first when you can around having to go to work and rest in the day. There isn't a single other thing you could be doing for me that you aren't already. Hell, you're even foregoing a full day's rest to make sure I'm okay," she tells me, moving to kiss my cheek and then groaning in pain. Even though it was over one hundred and thirty years ago, I still remember only too well how crippling having the flu is. Edie lamented that she felt like she'd been beaten all over with hammers, she ached so much, which is just how I felt when I was bedridden by it for ten days as a human.
"I suppose you're right. I forget how wonderful I am sometimes."
“Oh, such modesty.” Her joke makes me laugh quietly, reaching for the cool wash cloth and dabbing her forehead with it again. Lying here, being attentive and talking to her is about all I can do at the moment, since she's too sick for me to take her out anywhere or enjoy rolling her around the bed in the name of wild sex. I understand that she feels rotten, so I'm not going to pester her for it, although I’m horny as fuck. It’s here that I suddenly have an idea after looking at my watch and seeing I have to be at work in an hour from now. I'll go in today, but after tonight I'm cancelling my appointments for the next week, so I get to spend more time with Edie since she isn't working at the moment either.
I have all eternity to tattoo people and whatever other careers I might go into in my immortal time here, but I don't have all eternity with Edie, sadly. I want to enjoy her as much as I can, so take great pleasure in telling her of my plans upon my arrival home six hours later, finding her lying in the bath fully submerged. I just stand in the doorway and look at her for a few moments as she lies with her head under the water, before she obviously feels me right there and emerges to give me a big smile. No other human has ever captured my interest or my heart as much as Miss Bailey here.
"Are you hovering for a reason?" she asks, before puckering her lips at me. I go over to her and plant a kiss on them before beginning to undress.
"Just thinking how lovely you are while deciding to interrupt your bath or not," I tell her.
"I see you've made up your mind there then," she nods, as I remove the last of my clothes and slide into the hot water behind her.
"I have, and I also made up my mind on something else, too. I've cancelled all of my appointments for the next week so I can spend all the time I want to with you. I have all eternity to work, I don't have all eternity with you.” Wrapping her in my arms, I kiss her head, noting that she feels a little cooler now, fever wise.
"You didn't have to do that, I'm not much company anyway at the moment, and also won't it be bad for business, you just clearing your schedule for the next week? Your clients will be so disappointed," she states, turning to look at me with a little concern.
"They've all been rescheduled for later times over the next month, so no one is going to be disappointed. Besides, you should know by now that you're the only human I give a shit about," I assure her, watching her smile before she rests her head back against my shoulder. Tonight is the start of the nights to follow where Edie and I lie together, be it in the bathtub, the bed, or downstairs in the back yard when she's feeling too hot, and talk about anything and everything.
"I met Eric when Ursula visited a vampire who used to live in his former nest. I thought he was the weirdest vamp I'd encountered, but it was that difference in him that I ended up liking. I mean there's no doubt about the fact he's a vampire, but he has good human attributes too that some vampires lose forever. He's savage when he's pissed off or in combat though. One of our favourite things to do shortly after we met him was to go and kill the reanimated together. I remember one time just for fun, me, him and EZ went into the middle of Vegas with machine guns and deliberately stood there in the street firing off round after round into the air to bring out the dead, and then tore them all apart," I explain in reminiscence as we sit on the large and ornate wrought iron bench in the back yard a few more days into her sickness. She wanted to know more about how it was back when the disaster had struck.
"How did you kill them if you couldn't drain them?" she questions with interest, pulling the blanket she's wrapped in around herself a little tighter. She says she feels cold, yet her skin is like a furnace. At least she's stopped throwing up for the time, six days in now.
"We'd tear their heads off, or just punch them straight through the skull. That was the only way to kill them, a direct blow to the head. We used to make their heads explode everywhere, it was fun. Ursula came with us once and recorded it on a video camera. She said it was like her version of a normal mother filming her kids' graduation. I've no idea where the tape is now, I even looked for it earlier. What I did find, though, are my Godfather trilogy DVD’s. I remember you said you’d only seen the first one.” Immediately, her eyes light up.
"Ooooh, yes! But not until later, as right now I’m really enjoying out conversation, now that I finally feel I can concentrate better.” She's been a little out of it with the flu medicine she's been taking recently, but after Charles read the labels on the bottles and packets, he promptly put them in the bin. He told her all she needed was ibuprofen to lower her temperature and ease her physical discomfort, and tea tree oil to help with her sinus trouble, which would also help cleanse her of germs. He bought both for her himself, and I'll never forget the lecture I got when he arrived back. 'I don't know what you bought all of that highly caffeinated and sugar laden crap for! I bloody told you not to, quite specifically, too! All this modern witchcraft medicine, these pharmaceutical companies and their money-making chicanery, it's enough to make me want to spit!' he fumed while heading upstairs, leaving me laughing in his wake. I love how he denounces anything he doesn't think is beneficial to medicine as witchcraft.
"I know what we haven't done and said we'd do, look up ideas for the tattoo you want here," I suggest, moving the arm that's around her to reach down and trail my fingertips over the small scars on her chest.
"Oh yeah, I'd forgotten all about that! Let's go now, I feel better for getting some air anyway," she replies excitedly, standing up. We head back inside and up to my room, where I switch my computer on and then pull her down onto my lap to begin looking at images once it's loaded up.
"Look at the date, we've been together properly for a month today," I tell her, after noticing the time and date icon load at the lower right-hand side of the screen. Her face is a picture of surprise.
"A month, really? Is it that long already?"
"It is, happy anniversary, even though it's lame to have one for your first month," I tell her, giving her a kiss.
"Yeah, pretty lame. That's why I'm not returning the sentiment. And to think you're a vampire too. I dunno," she teases softly with an eye roll, making me laugh. I'm always amused when she mocks me, because it's good to hear. I can't have banter with humans; they're all too scared of me. Edie isn't though, and I love it.
"I'll be mean to you for a while to make up for it then," I joke, still laughing a little.
She leans to kiss my head, her nails combing through my hair. “That’s better.” We sit for an hour looking over different designs and ideas, with Edie pulling very thoughtful faces as we work through the various themes.
"What about if I did something that went down both sides of your chest, say from here to here," I suggest, trailing my finger from her collarbone to the top of her breast where the white lines run to.
"I don't know, I don't want it to be anything too big or bold, but now you're making me start to worry it'll look funny just on one side," she says, looking down at her chest.
"Well, I'll draw out two of whatever you have done and do one first, and then if you want the other, I'll have the line drawing right there. You need to decide what you want first though.” She doesn't make that decision tonight, getting a headache after looking at the computer for an hour and wanting to go to bed after that.
She falls asleep quickly, and so as not to disturb her I head downstairs and wait for Ursula to arrive home. Heading to the kitchen, I pull out some fresh cuts of meat from the fridge for Icarus and Thor, throwing them into their bowls. When I whistle for them, they come running just as I expect, but just five seconds after they've put their heads down to eat, they're startled by something none of us expected. That something is for a bloody and beaten EZ to open the kitchen door and come crashing through, swaying on his feet before falling. I catch him before he hits the floor.
"What the fuck happened to you?" I ask as I haul him up and kick out a chair at the kitchen table to sit him in.
"Ten other vampires, back there right at the bottom of the main road just before I was about to turn up to here. I knew there was about four of them lurking as soon as I turned the corner, the other six caught up pretty quickly, though. I can't talk… I need blood," he grunts, holding a hand to where he's obviously been stabbed in the lung with something silver. Knowing Edie is sick and sleeping (and selfishly I'm not willing to share my food source) but seeing that my brother needs blood quickly, I zoom out without word, traveling the two-minute walk to Ursula's human friend Angela's house in about ten seconds at my speed. Twenty seconds after that and she's standing in the kitchen with me, EZ's mouth clapped around her wrist. Just then, Charles arrives.
"I'll have the fangs of whoever did this, and I will find out who," he states vehemently, after casting his eye over EZ.
"No, you won't. You know as my creator I'd never tell you what to do, but when you hear what I have to say, you'll back off. They were anti-TVM vigilantes, and they gave me a message. Unless Ursula surrender and expose her ties with the TVM and its other figureheads, this and worse happens to Angel. I suppose they needed someone to make their point with before that happened," he reveals after feeding, sealing Angela's wrist and then kissing it as he looks up at her. I don't think she will be going home tonight. She's about the only human he can tolerate, and that is because she's a very intelligent woman, and a damn good fuck too, apparently.
"In turn to match your initial words, no, they won't. I can bet just who is behind this, and it isn't who they said they were. The vampires who attacked you were sent by Elias, no doubt. Trying to scare Ursula into confessing to something she has no involvement in by doing this to you and threatening worse for Angel," he spits bitterly. Shit, all of this just took a sharp fucking turn.
Edie's POV
"There'll be more water on the floor than there is in the bath by the time we're done," I exclaim through ragged breaths, my nails running down my boyfriend's back.
"You're mistaking me for someone who gives a shit," comes his panted reply before our lips meet again in a heated kiss, with him thrusting into me so hard, my mouth breaks away and I practically scream. I'm all better after my bout of flu last week, but this week literally as soon as I was feeling well enough for sex, what happened? I got my fucking period, that's what happened.
Usually Angel won't come near me (menstrual blood, since it isn’t fresh is kinda repelling for vampires) but when you add the fact that we haven't had sex for a week to the fact that a bath is a self-cleaning system for messy sex, well, he couldn't wait another five days for my bleeding to finish, let's put it that way. He's been so sexually wound up that I'm surprised I actually have a vagina left, to put it mildly.
I came in from work and this was the first place I wanted to go, just to relax more than anything. Hah. "Angel! Will you leave the poor girl to bathe for at least half an hour in peace before you go charging in there like some kind of crazed sex demon!" was what Ursula shouted at him when she overheard him trying to invade my bath time and me protesting it. Oh god, I laughed so hard!
I'll give him his due, I think he lasted for about twenty minutes before he came charging in with more horn than your average mountain goat. Not that I'm complaining, I at least got to relax for a little bit before I got set upon by the sexual beast that is my boyfriend. I've missed his touch in the erotic sense, and right now I don't think this is going to be over at any time soon. I think this is the perfect way to take our minds off the fact that as of nearly two weeks ago, the campaign against Ursula was reignited by EZ having seven shades of shit beaten out of him.
This happened when I was still ill, and I was sleeping when EZ apparently came home stabbed several times with silver knifes. According to his account, he was jumped by ten other vampires. He managed to throw one of them off before the other nine got to work on him, one silvering his throat with a chain while the rest beat him with silver knuckle dusters and stabbed him in the face and chest. He was okay after he'd fed, of course, and spent the rest of the evening showing his gratitude to Angela in very, very loud ways. That woman squeals like an amplified mouse at the cusp of orgasm, and he got her to that point more times than my ears want to remember. What followed that incident has been much, much worse. Everyone even remotely associated with Ursula has been targeted.
Three nights ago, what could be so classically described as an angry mob arrived here at the house, threatening to set the place on fire with all of us in it. How Ursula kept her temper with them, I'll never know. She calmly asked them exactly what evidence they had against her, asked them for just one piece. 'We know you were brought in for questioning!' the ringleader said from behind his covered face (yeah, they were so brave they covered their faces, fucking cowards) to which she asked him if there had been anything found to be implicating in that questioning, why would she still be a free woman?
He couldn't answer that. He also couldn't answer the question of why there was a human standing there next to her who she had her arm around, and was perfectly safe and happy. That human was me. 'I suggest you all get off my property at once, or I'll show you just what a one thousand plus year old vampire can do all by herself.'
That is what she told them before they and their fiery torches all moved away. She knew she shouldn't have threatened them, but Ursula will be damned to her final death before she lets anyone put the safety of her family in jeopardy. 'You are my family too' she told me, kissing my head just after we went back inside. That gesture made me beam, to be counted as family to someone. I know I am to people like Vic and Aileen too, but for Ursula to say it just made me feel extra special. I've only been with Angel for six weeks, but the way I was welcomed into the family right from the start, you'd think I'd been with him for six years.
A few days before that, there was another incident with EZ, one that was much worse than the previous one, much worse because EZ almost killed the vampire who attacked him. He'll receive no punishment for it though, because here's the twist. The vampire who attacked him was found to be affiliated with the TVM, and he attacked EZ for allegedly 'pretending' to be TVM himself. He was caught, of course. Charles felt the anger in EZ rise and zoomed to his side before EZ had chance to fatally wound the other vampire. Sadly though, when brought in for questioning, he refused to talk.
The AVA threatened him with his life and he still wouldn’t give up any names, so yesterday morning after being interrogated non-stop for eight days to no avail, he was sentenced to the final death and chained up to meet the sunrise. Angel has also had some trouble to deal with, in the form of someone trying to pin a murder of a young girl upon him and his sexual problem. Ursula discovered her body, when enjoying her garden and picking some flowers at first dark, when she smelled something coming from the manure heap at the back of the yard. Under the large heap of horse poop was the body of a naked and drained girl.
She and Charles had been away enjoying their wedding anniversary at a beautiful hotel up in California the evening before, and she knew that it'd had been left there specifically for her to uncover as soon as she arrived home and then (hopefully for them) try and better hide the body to keep Angel out of trouble. She did exactly what they didn't expect, and reported the find immediately. Of course, she and Charles (who was quite angry at Angel for leaving the house unguarded, since EZ was away running a less illegal errand for Charles at the time) were off the hook as the poor girl had died while they were away, so that just meant EZ and Angel had fingers pointed at them, and of course both of them could give concrete alibi's. EZ was in a massive vampire bar when he was seen by many who came forward and vouched for his presence, and Angel was in me over at my place, so there's his alibi.
What was worrying about this is the fact Ursula knows they were trying to pin this on Angel, and then unravel the rest of the bodies left in his wake, pin some TVM related bullcrap on him and then also succeed in putting further evidence to the case against her. This is worrying because only a handful of vampires, ones she has known for centuries and trusts with everything knows about Angel and his problem with all human women except for me.
She's now worried that whoever is working with Elias could possibly someone close to her. She told all of this to her creator, Constance, who was so perturbed by the idea that she is currently in the sky on a plane, flying out here to Nevada to assist 'before things get any worse than they are, my girl' as I overheard her word it to Ursula on the telephone a few nights ago. She and her newest offspring, a vampire by the name of John will be staying here at the house.
"Are you alright?" The lady herself asks me as I hobble into the kitchen just before 5am. I say hobble, because Angel only finally let me out from underneath him five minutes ago, and after you've had the sexual equivalent of a bull in an antique shop for the last near two hours, it's kind of hard to walk properly.
"No, I need to go and sit on a block of ice for an hour or so. Ouch," I wince, while Ursula giggles. Opening the fridge door, I locate my bottle of kiwi crush and take a few hearty swigs (since I've been with Angel and spend so much time here, there are a few more bits and pieces of human items to be found around the house) putting it away and then turning to Ursula once more. I then almost choke for laughing.
"Will this be adequate?" she says to me, holding up a massive block of ice from out of the deep freeze where she's zoomed to fetch it. We both stand there laughing heartily at her joke before composing ourselves. "You bring such joy to this house, dear child. Especially in these dark times we are facing, I thank you for being so upbeat." Walking over and smoothing my hair with her hands, she smiles widely, kissing my head. She's such a lovely lady. How could anyone hate her this much?
"I do try my best, if nothing else but to stop Angel from worrying about it all. I know he worries about your welfare more than he lets on," I confide, going to the jar on the side and pulling myself a cookie out, feeling a little peckish.
"Oh, doesn't he just. I feel that too just like you do, of course. Anyway, let me keep you no longer. I'm off to see if I have any messages waiting for me on my cell, see if any of my leads on this whole debacle have come to anything. I confess though, I feel so very clueless. I eagerly await the arrival of Constance, I feel she is my last hope, and at two thousand, six hundred and sixty-six years old, nothing at all gets past her." She explains, giving me a cheek kiss goodnight and leaving the kitchen.
I head back upstairs to Angel, for what shapes up to be round two of being fucked so hard, I’m left nothing short of dick drunk in the wake of it. He keeps me like that until 11am the next morning too, before finally he sleeps, and I more or less pass out after drinking a little blood from his wrist. I'm glad that when I wake up, my mind tricks me for a moment into thinking I have work to go to later on, until my brains kicks into gear properly and I remember it's a Saturday. Ahhh, bliss. I also remember where I'm meant to be in half an hour. Shit!
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry I overslept!" I tell Vic as I race up his driveway, with him standing there waiting for me, tapping his watch.
"Don't lie to me, you were enjoying your boyfriend, we both know that much," he teases with a snort. He actually took the news that Angel and I are in a relationship a hell of a lot better than I thought he would. 'I've been wondering just when you were going to confess that to me. The way you talk about him, well it's the way a woman talks when she likes a guy' he told me with a little knowing wink when I revealed all to him.
"That big ball of fire up there indicates otherwise," I state, pointing up at the afternoon sun. I can hardly believe it's only a week to Christmas, and Nevada is still this warm. Okay so we never really have a proper winter like the people over in Europe or on higher ground have, but it does tend to get colder and rainier in December.
"Ahhhh, I'll let you off then, just this once," Vic replies before opening his arms to me and giving me a big hug. I haven't seen him for weeks, and it feels like so much longer.
"So ,are you still coming for a drink with us later? Please say yes!" I ask as we walk inside. I'm here for an early dinner with him before we head to Vic's favourite bar in the whole world, Mackenzie's Sports bar and grill, where we'll be meeting up with Angel, who says it's high time he meets 'your father' as he worded it. Vic is the closest thing I have to a dad after all.
"Yep, I got David to cover my shift," he replies, referring to his youngest nephew.
"Good, I'm so glad because he's actually really looking forward to meeting you, and that's very telling with Angel since his interest in humans only really extends to me. He much prefers the company of his own kind," I explain as he serves up the food. Fried chicken and big, fluffy on the inside, crispy on the outside baked potatoes (he cooks them perfectly) with some collard greens. Perfect.
"In turn I look forward to meeting him, the vampire who's made you so happy. It only feels like yesterday when we were sitting at this very table, and you were spitting venom over what a nasty asshole he was. How things have changed. Oh, are you still coming to me for Christmas day? I take it you can, since Angel will be asleep," he inquires, while passing me the butter before he sits down.
"Yeah, of course, I wouldn't miss your Christmas day cook off for the world!” I've near enough always spent Christmas with Vic and his family, and I love the atmosphere in this little house so much when it's jammed full of people. All conversation then ends as we begin eating our dinner. After we're done and all the dishes have been washed and put away, we take his dog Sadie for a little walk across the big fields that back onto his street.
"So, I've been wondering, how much different is it being in a relationship with a vampire to being with a human?" he asks me as he unclips Sadie's leash and lets her run off, barking as she chases a flock of pigeons in the near distance.
"It's strange, because it really doesn't feel that different for the most part, but the reality is that it's very, very different to being with a human person. You never see them in daylight for one thing, and I actually like that since I work nights, I can see him more than if I worked in the day, I can be awake when he is and sleep with him during the day.
“Then there's the fact they don't eat, or drink anything other than blood, so sometimes places to go on a date can be limited in that respect. You also have to get used to the fact that they're wired differently to us emotionally. They're quite cold in a lot of respects, but that's the lack of life in them since they're dead. Angel is never like that with me, but of course I've seen that side of him. What else… oh yeah, the biggest difference is what they're like in bed, but we're leaving that where it is," I reply, while Vic gives me an aghast look.
"Oh come on! If I'm being truthful, that was the part I was fishing for," he exclaims, eyes wide before he roars with laughter at the look I'm currently wearing upon my face. Think startled goldfish, and you're very close.
"Vic!" I exclaim.
"What? I don't want any personal details, that'd be wrong, very wrong! But it's something I've always wondered. I mean, do they still do it like we do, or do they do it in some kind of… freaky way?" he questions curiously. When I've finished laughing at the freaky comment, I formulate my response.
"No, they still do it in the exact same way as us living people do, just with a difference. They do it faster, and for longer, and about a thousand times better than humans. They're ridiculously in tune with the person they're having sex with, and they're usually a lot older too, so they don't forget the skills, and they pick up way more than us humans ever will simply because they're lived longer," I reply, Vic nodding.
"Sounds interesting, but they scare me too much to ever try it out for myself! Those teeth, yikes," he begins, before asking me just how old Angel is.
"One hundred and thirty-six.” There's a few seconds of silence, and I turn to see him nodding before my eyes move to find Sadie towing along a big old fallen branch back in our direction, suddenly hearing a hissing noise. Oh lord, what's tickled him now?
"What's with you now?" I exclaim, trying not to laugh too. He has one of those really high-pitched laughs that automatically has me in hysterics. The noise doesn't sound like it's coming from a big guy like him.
"Your boyfriend is a hundred and eight years older than you. Ewww," he taunts, before really whooping with laughter.
"Shut up!" I protest.
"Does he smell mouldy?" I'm then asked through the hysterics.
"Vic! Stop it!" I cry, throwing him an elbow. I know he's only kidding, but I also know he won't quit teasing me now. It's the start of what promises to be a great night. If only it could remain that way all the way through, though.
#angel reyes#angel reyes fanfiction#angel reyes smut#angel reyes imagine#angel reyes x ofc#angel reyes fanfic#angel reyes fic#vampire!angel reyes#mayans mc#mayans mc fanfiction#mayans mc smut#mayans mc imagine#mayans mc fanfic#mayans mc fic
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hi !! can u write a timothee x y/n fic set in new york pls <333
⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★ Standing Reservation: Chapter 1 ★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆
✦ timothée x femme reader
✦ word count: 833
✦ warnings: 18+, mentions of sex, suggestive themes
Five nine? Sure you are. Left. Just looking for a plug? I think not. Left. Fish picture? Why even bother? Left. Abs. More abs. Abs again. Left. Left. Left. Meeting people online feels impossible these days. You sigh, halfheartedly swiping one more time as you put your phone down in defeat. Wait. You glance at the screen once more to find a picture of Timothée Chalamet staring back at you. Oh, please. Catfish, you figure.You come close, but something in you can’t bear to close the app. Still, why not humor them? It will give you something to talk about. You swipe right. It’s a match. You roll your eyes, but a slight chuckle escapes you. Whatever, you shrug. Still, you start the conversation. u really think this shit will get u bitches huh? Send. Just two minutes later, a notification. sure i do. those are my fav selfies. For God’s sake. Ok. Forget it. But you can’t forget it. You open the app once again. wanna ft? You scoff, yet you can’t help but entertain the possibility. It’s been a long week. Why not? If it’s weird, you’ll hang up.
Hours pass. You never hung up. The call ends. Holy shit. It was really him. Shaking, you go to text your best friend. i just fucking facetimed timothee chalamet for three and a half hours im deadass. “(Y/N) this sounds like you’re reading me the plot of a bad fanfic. No way this actually happened!” You spend forty-five minutes trying to convince her. Wait till she finds out you're pulling up to his apartment tomorrow.
You give the door a timid knock. Timmy greets you with a sly smile and a kiss on each cheek. He welcomes you into his home with no inhibitions, remarking on the harsh weather as he helps you take off your jacket. Anxious yet eager, you have no idea what to expect. He guides you to his kitchen and offers you wine. You graciously accept, and playfully mock his mess-of-a-kitchen. The conversation flows effortlessly and before you know it, you are lost in it. In him. The laughter slowly dies down, a smile stuck on his face as he looks directly into your eyes. He moves his hand toward you and caresses your cheek. “May I?” You can’t help but notice the slight shakiness in his voice. He goes in slowly and you start to kiss. You are lost in each other. He begins tracing his hand along the buttons on your shirt. “Is this okay?” You nod. He looks straight into your eyes, his voice a gentle whisper. “I don’t want you to nod, I want you to tell me what you want.” A beat. “Timmy, I want you.” You undo the buttons on your shirt as he kisses you madly. He guides your shirt off your shoulders, and you begin to lower the waistband on your pants. Still fully clothed, he kisses your neck. You push him away—”your turn now.” He takes off his shirt and continues to kiss you, pulling you toward him. There is no more space in between you, but he wants you closer. He picks you up and carries you to the bedroom, where he plops you onto the bed while he takes his pants off. He gets on top and you pull his head down to kiss you. He traces his hands down your body. Slowly, he inches toward your heat. He gets closer and closer until you shiver. “Do you want me to stop?” “Please don’t” Ever so gently, he traces your entrance. He slowly inserts his finger, and you gasp. “Is this okay?” “Yes,” you exhale shakily. He thrusts in and out. He inserts a second finger. “Too much,” you tell him. “Slow down.” He gently pulls out. “Only when you’re comfortable.” You adjust. “I’m ready, Timmy” He kisses your lips, inching toward your jawline. He travels down your neck, and scatters pecks across your body. He stops at your breasts, then peppers kisses down your stomach. You feel the soft plumpness of his lips touch your most sensitive area.
After you finish, you go to the restroom to pee. You notice one of his tee shirts sitting on his dresser. You pull it over yourself and he smiles, plainly enamored by you, as you get back into bed. He caresses your hair. You talk about everything and nothing.
That evening, you can’t focus on anything. Timmy’s living in your head rent free. He is adamant that he wants you to come back, however he is reluctant to start a relationship. You don’t blame him. You were granted privileged insight to Timmy's most vulnerable side. You think about how genuine he was when he articulated his bashful apprehension toward commitment. It comes from his father, he told you. You trust him—he insists it has nothing to do with his attraction to you. You know he wants you bad. Keeping it open is the right move.
#timothee chalamet#timothée chalamet#timothée x reader#timothée chalamet x reader#timothée fanfic#new york#new york city#reader insert#smut
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Journal January 5, 2023
I just left after volunteering my time at the data center the first time. The day center at my church, I arrived at nine and left at about 150 in the afternoon. Barbara is correct, you could not make up the stories if you try. No one would believe that. I can already tell that some people there are absolute characters. I heard about someone and took her son at this moment son who, they both need a walker in order to move unless they've had alcohol in which case they can move freely and completely.
I wore my boots, I need different boots. I want to say I need to open toed boots, but I think what I need is zero trough boots, that will let my toes appropriately spread out. I've worked all day on my feet
Once, I know what being on my feet should feel that I hello, my lower back hurts.
I got woken up this morning earlier at Ornish, Sucre. I pray for about an hour that I feel like I got told to go back to bed. I chose in and out of sleep until around eight. I had not set my alarm, which I will do now on. Ashley is actually one woke me up phone call at 8 AM.
– And I seem to have come to a reasonable meeting of the minds regarding money. She's going to continue paying the rents, and that technically will be my income from which I will time. That I think will actually handle most of my monthly expenses not counting taxes. I still need to check to see what my guy has said about my savings.
In the past week Ash and I had been fighting about it a lot. She got hired, but I congratulated for a number four, then five minutes later I started talking about tithing. I do not handle it well. She is understandably upset, considering that she justifiably feels that I lied to her which was not consciously intentional, but practically, for all practical measures is what happened. She proposed the solution of just continuing to pay rent, and from that I will try.
For my first day in the day center, I started off by wiping down tables, and then I spent most the day in the kitchen just serving coffee serving whatever meal people asked for. We had some soup we had some toast with the, with the options of peanut butter, jelly, butter, we also had oatmeal, soup, baked potato, baked sweet potato, those last two were microwaved., Several different kinds of bread. I currently find it striking that I am more easily able to list off the food and items I dealt with rather than the people I dealt with. I know that it used to be true. I feel like I stored a significant chunk of my brain into memorizing the names of people and their faces.
Really was there today, I also saw Pastor Heather. I wish them both a happy new year. Barbara, saw, and Donnie were there. I also saw Garrett's, who is in charge of social services. Donny and I talked a little bit about poetry, and the next poetry meeting. Barbara is a gem. She may have the attitude of being the class clown, but she also has a knack and skill, of interacting with people. Right now, I feel like a wet blanket. I don't feel like I have the skill of interacting with a lot of different people, or bringing moods up.
I'm not certain that any particular tricks for tips are going to help me with this group. I don't think trying to be or charismatic will help. I mean, it might but only to a certain extent. It still something worth looking into. But I think maybe learning this group of people will be more helpful. Just this learning people's names, I know I recognize faces from people of the church, not being afraid to just stay in the kitchen. They mentioned how on Tuesdays there are Mormon missionaries who come to spend time it be helpful.. They would worth it would be worthwhile to be there to observe and learn that.
I am beginning to realize what I have done. I left my job. I have not been without one, really, since I left school. And even that, searching for a job was my job. And before school, school was my job. I have yet to actually figure out what my job is right now, beyond writing, and obeying God. The second is it's a job, it's a joy. At least I keep telling myself that, sometimes it is not fun. I'm just realizing how much of who I am as a person, and how much my job dictated my time.
#journal#unedited audio journal#reflection#journey#prayer#unedited#audio journal#unedited journal#writer#writers on tumblr#journaling#journalling
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Little Red Dress
Pairings: Harry Lewis x fem!Reader, Callux x sister!Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: Swearing, some violence, maybe a few spelling mistakes
Request: Idk if this is a request but like a secret relationship with Harry that you hide and you like calluxs sister or something like that and when he finds out he gets really mad or something
How you had gotten here you didn't know. It was a question you had continually asked yourself for the last five or so months. You hadn't long moved to London, where your older brother Callum lived. You had wanted to be closer to him, not that you were far anyway but you were very closer to your brother.
There were quite a few years between you and the older boy, you being born when the latter was 7 years old. Now at the ages of 22 and 29, the two could not be more inseparable. Despite having different fathers - both of whom hadn't stuck around long enough for the pair to remember them - you and Cal were like peas in a pod. With no father figure for you to look up to, you naturally clung to the boy growing up, and Cal being the only male in the house, quickly took on the protector figure for both you and your mum.
As awful as you felt leaving your mum back at home, you had been missing your brother desperately since he had moved to London so long ago, having spent the latter majority of your school years without him. Now after graduating from university, you finally felt free enough to move to the city with your brother and make your own way in life.
That was nearing a year ago, which led you to now. The situation that you were currently in, sneaking around with one of your brother's best friends.
You had met Harry before you could even have been introduced by Cal in one of the most cliche ways ever. Being the clumsy git he is, he had bumped into you in the hallway of your new apartment building and had spilled the contents of the box you were carrying all over the hardwood floor. Awkwardly the man had tried to pick up the contents in a hurry, spitting out apologies to you and once again dropping things from his arms in an attempt to put them back into the box. It was something you had found very endearing and is a quality of his that you adore.
In an attempt to apologise for both spilling the box full of stuff and then dropping the contents whilst trying to pick them back up, Harry had offered to help you bring up the rest of your boxes. It was there that you both ran into your brother, who was visibly confused as to how his cumbersome best friend was talking to his baby sister like they had known each other for years.
Cal would never actually admit it to you but witnessing that interacting had a large pit forming at the bottom of his stomach. He knew how Harry could be and knew from the look in his eye that he had quickly found an attraction in you.
Any spark found in Harry's eyes quickly distinguished when he learned of your relation to Cal, knowing how protective the older boy could be of his baby sister, but nothing could stop the fluttering feeling the boy got when he was around you. Not even Cal's warnings against dating his sister. Warnings that his other friends got, to his relief, all of which assured Cal that his sister was out of bounds. Pleased with the responses, Cal never had a second thought, something you were glad for.
Something you weren't glad for however, was the feeling of uneasiness you got whenever you were with Harry. You almost felt guilty for being with him, even more so for keeping it from your brother.
Your boyfriend of five months, however, was quick to chase away that feeling with his affection. You got to see another side to the boy that many of the people in his life never got to witness. It gave you a feeling of euphoria knowing that you were the object of Harry's affections, and affectionate he was.
When the two of you got to spend time at your apartment, the boy could not remove himself from you. Whether he was lying in bed editing a video, cuddled into your side, or sprawled out on the settee with his head nestled in your lap, he always had to have some body part touching you. His hand always found yours when he was particularly anxious, something that happened quite regularly, which was one of the traits you found most endearing. It warmed your heart to know that you were able to calm him down.
Something you did a lot was steal Harry's clothing. There was just something about those jumpers, especially the sidemen merch, that was just so comfortable. Even after insisting on getting you some sidemen clothing of your own, so he could continue to make use of his own wardrobe, you still wore his. You had told him very shyly that you liked wearing his clothes because they smelled like him, and it brought you comfort when he was away visiting his own family.
Harry thought he might have broken down then and there. Not that he would say it out loud, he secretly loved it when you wore his clothes but knowing that you would wear them when you missed him? He felt like he was on cloud nine.
Which is how you found yourself right now, snuggled on your sofa, drowning in Harry's jumper and a fleece blanket, watching the TV. Harry had been away visiting his family over the new year, and wasn't due back until the following day but you missed him dearly. Your phone had been forgotten in your bedroom, your only distraction was reruns of Grey's Anatomy, a show you had already watched religiously.
You hadn't realised how much time had passed as you easily lost track of time when you got into a show. You also hadn't realised that your brother had been trying to get hold of your for over an hour. Which is why you were startled when you heard the click of the lock turning.
"Y/N?" The sound of your brother's voice filled the small apartment. "Are you in here?"
"On the sofa." You called back with a yawn. He could easily hear the drowsiness in your voice, he would put his money on you falling asleep within the next hour.
"You didn't answer my calls or texts, I was worried." He scolded gently.
"I left it in my room to charge, sorry for worrying you." You stretched causing the blanket that covered you to drop to your lap.
"Whose? Whose jumper is that?" Cal inquired, suspicion laced in his tone.
"Oh, is it not yours?" You asked, trying to cover up the fact that his best friend's jumper adorned your body and was currently the reason that you were about to be outed.
"No. You know that's not my jumper Y/N. It's too small to be mine." You winced at the hardness in his voice.
"I must've picked it up thinking it was yours. Oops." You tried to play it off coolly, and your brother seemed to be coming around to the idea that it was just a misunderstanding. Thank God, you screamed internally.
"Right." He sprawled himself out next to you and let out a groan when he noticed what you were watching. "Really? Grey's Anatomy? You know I've experienced enough hospitals in my life without having to watch this garbage."
"How dare you?" You gasped playfully, whacking the older man on the arm. "I'm not turning it off, so either accept it or leave."
"Fine."
A week later, Cal was visiting Freezy and Harry's apartment to hang out with the boys. You were meant to be coming soon though as you and Cal were going out for lunch. Cal was sprawled on the sofa and Harry was on another, whilst Freezy was in the bathroom. Cal's suspicions once again peaked as he noticed Harry wearing the jumper you were wearing just a week ago.
"I'm sure that's the jumper Y/N was wearing last week." He muttered loud enough for the younger boy to hear.
"Is it? She must've picked it up by accident and thought it was yours." Harry spoke coolly although his stomach felt like it was doing backflips.
"Hmm. That's what she said." He grumbled. The two fell back into a comfortable silence scrolling through their phones, waiting for Freezy to arrive back from the bathroom.
"Harry, I'm sure you've got some secret girlfriend you're hiding from us or something." The loud voice of Freezy echoed through the apartment.
"What?" The boy in question stumbled over his words. "Why would you say that?"
"Well, if I had to guess, I wouldn't put you down as the type of person who used Sunkissed raspberry shampoo and conditioner." He cackled.
"So, what if I did?" Harry's heart was racing, trying to play the situation off. Even if the boys found out he was seeing someone, they still wouldn't know who. That's what he was trying to tell himself anyway.
"Right, so you're telling me this dress from the washing basket is yours too?"
Harry's face dropped as Freezy held up the little red dress that you had thrown in the washing basket after a night out. A night out with your brother and his friends.
"What the fuck Harry?!" Cal seethed, gripping him by the collar of his jumper and shoving him into the wall. "My fucking sister!"
"Oh." Was the only thing that come out of Freezy's mouth once he had realised the severity of the situation. Your brother on the other hand was seeing red. What they hadn't heard was you entering the flat, having heard the shouting from the hallway. Cal raised his fist, bringing it to meet the side of Harry's face, who hadn't said a word yet.
"What the hell Cal?!" You exclaimed, marching over and pushing him away from your boyfriend.
"When were you going to tell me?" He asked you through gritted teeth.
"I don't know what you're talking about." You honestly had no idea what was happening right now, but if you had to make a guess, you'd put your money on Cal having found out about your relationship. You could count on one hand how many times you had seen your brother as angry as this. Not ever had it been directed at you though.
"Stop lying Y/N!" He roared making you cower into Harry behind you and let out a small whimper. "Come on, we're leaving."
"No!" Your brother grabbed the top of your arm and began pulling you away. You tried to shrug his hand from your arm, but he held on tightly. "I'm not leaving."
"Fine." He spat, storming out of the apartment.
"Hey." Harry whispered softly, touching your arm gently.
"I'll just leave you two." Freezy muttered awkwardly, leaving to go to his room. Harry pulled you into his chest and wiped away the tears you hadn't realised had fallen.
"It's okay." He assured you. "It'll be okay."
#sidemen imagine#sidemen#Harry Lewis#Harry Lewis x reader#Harry Lewis x fem!reader#Wroetoshaw#Wroetoshaw x reader#Wroetoshaw x fem!reader#Wroetoshaw imagine#Sidemen x reader#Callux x reader#Callux x sister!reader#Callux x platonic!reader#Harry Lewis imagine#Sidemen fanfic#w2s x reader#w2s imagine#w2s
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the babysitter’s club (1)
+ pairing: levi ackerman + (fem) reader, featuring bright-eyed but very easily intimidated interns and part-time babysitters eren and armin who are trying their best
+ genres and warnings: modern au, parents au, fluff, yes the dog’s name is captain and he’s tiny what about it
+ summary: eren and armin are good subordinates, who happen to be pretty good babysitter, too. usually.
+ word count: 2.7k
+ notes: this was just something fun i edited and reworked again, also to provide some more insight about dad levi and my oc kids; this focuses only on holden, who is the oldest of the bunch, but you’ll more about the rest as they go
It’s not that Levi doesn’t trust Holden’s babysitters, he just would rather watch over her himself. Moreover, he would rather have the time to spend with his small daughter instead of having to leave her in the care of someone else who isn’t you, but sometimes life gets busy, and babysitters come in real handy.
He still doesn’t understand why Erwin would schedule the both of you to attend such important work-related meetings on the same weekend; much less, to send you half-way around the world for yours, and then book Levi for damn near twelve hours on a Saturday. He would murder Erwin if he weren’t his direct boss, and a long-time friend. But shit happens, and while it’s a major inconvenience and pain in his ass to be working on a weekend, it’s good to know he could rely on the brats at the office to step up on such short notice.
“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that if anything happens, I won’t hesitate to dismember you,” Levi says calmly, closing his briefcase after triple-checking its contents.
“Of course,” Armin stiffens visibly, awkward laughter seeping through his words, “Eren and I would never let anything happen to Holden.”
To his left, Holden has already tugged Eren to the coffee table for a game of children’s Scrabble, determined to show off her new skills. Levi smiles slightly as he remembers playing the game with her last week, and how awe-struck she was to have seen Levi create a word bigger than “unattainable”—which is currently the longest word in her four-year-old vocabulary. But he’s certain she would have no trouble beating Eren.
He gives Armin a slight nod. He knows Holden is in good hands; or good enough hands with Armin, anyway. It’s not the first time the duo has babysat, and for as air-headed and clumsy Eren could be at the office, he seemed to be pretty damn good with kids if Holden’s attachment to the brunette was anything to go by.
Levi recounts that you’ve questioned on multiple occasions why Eren was so dedicated to being your PA when he seemed to have a potential career in taking care of, and maybe even teaching children. Not that he’s not a good assistant to you, but he’s certainly not as organized or detailed-oriented as Armin. Levi shrugs away the thought. Eren’s career choices are none of his business; his only concern is that he keeps his daughter safe and sound.
“Right. My card is on the kitchen island, you can buy lunch and dinner or whatever, I don’t think there’s much in the fridge,” Levi informs Armin. He looks briefly to the clock on the wall; he really should get going. “Remember to walk Captain at some point, and no matter what Holden says, he absolutely does need a leash on him. If Erwin isn’t being a complete asshat, I’ll be home by nine. (Y/N) will probably still be on her flight, so call me if you need anything.”
Armin nods enthusiastically, promising Levi that they would take care of everything. They’d better.
“Alright, I’m heading out,” Levi announces, pulling his keys from the table near the door, “Be good, Holden. Tell Armin and Eren if you need anything.”
Holden’s head perks up at the sound of her name. Elegantly, or as elegantly as a four-year-old can be, she stands from her seated crisscross position, to run over to Levi by the door. He should remind her that she should use walking feet inside the house, but he can’t bring himself to, instead crouching down to meet her height.
“Bye, daddy,” she tells him sweetly. Levi reaches a hand out to ruffle the top of her head, much to the small girl’s chagrin. She sports a grimace almost identical to his as he reaches up to try and smooth out the aftermath of her father’s affections, “Daddy!”
Levi can’t help but chuckle, reaching two fingers out to poke at his daughter’s forehead. “Be good. I’ll be back soon.”
“Mommy too?”
Levi sighs, “No, mommy doesn’t come back until Tuesday.”
“That’s four days away,” Holden’s doesn’t hesitate to express her dissatisfaction. Levi nods, a little proud of how quickly she’d calculated that in her head, “Can Eren stay until Tuesday?”
“No, Eren cannot.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Holden crinkles her nose. Levi really has got to do something about her fascination with Eren.
Holden looks backwards to where Eren is still seated around the coffee table, he and Armin watching the father-daughter duo. After reconciling with the fact that Eren does, in fact, have his own home to go back to at the end of the day, Holden turns back around, and holds her hand up, palm facing Levi. He does the same, bringing his larger palm to hers, so that her hand is pushed against the middle of his.
Not one for hugs, kisses, or larger displays of affection, Holden simply turns her palm so that her hand grabs around Levi’s as best as possible, hooking her thumb around his pinky finger—what Levi’s heard the young girl call a hand hug.
“Bye, daddy,” she repeats, squeezing his hand, “Come back soon.”
Levi bends his fingers to wrap around her hand, “I will.”
“Keep an eye on her,” Levi reminds Armin and Eren, after standing back up and gripping his briefcase in his hand, “Don’t cause too much trouble.”
“Holden never causes trouble,” Eren says in response, but his words are spoken in coos to the young girl, who’s already back at his side.
Levi scoffs, “I was talking to you.”
“We’ll be fine, boss, don’t worry,” Eren chuckles with an awkward blush, “We love looking after Holden.”
“I’m not your boss,” Levi deadpans, double-checking his pockets for his keys, “You’d better hope everything is fine. Call me if anything happens, I’ll be back soon.”
With one final round of good-byes, and a wave from his daughter, Levi’s out the door, and stepping into his car with a grimace. It was just one stupid day out of his life. Besides, Holden would be fine with Armin and Eren; she always is. Levi is just grumpy that he can’t be the one to spend the day with her.
He sighs, reluctantly, putting his keys in the ignition. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could come back to Holden. Everything would be fine in the meantime; for now, he had to focus on how he was going to get himself to sit through Erwin’s long-ass meeting.
“Levi! Hi! Um… okay, so don’t freak out, but Armin and I are at the hospital with Holden right now—don’t freak out—because there was a small incident at lunch—don’t freak out and fire me please—but! It’s all gonna be okay, they’re already treating her and she’s doing fine now, so don’t freak—”
“Tell me not to freak out one more fucking time and I’ll castrate Armin and feed you his balls myself.”
“You sound a little freaked out,” Eren placates, wincing and holding his phone away from his ear when Levi growls in response.
“You have five seconds to tell me what you two idiots did to my daughter and explain why I shouldn’t decapitate you immediately.”
“It’s a funny story, actually—so, um, we think Holden might be allergic to nuts…?”
“What do you mean might be, Jaeger?”
Eren can feel his heart in his throat. He eyes Armin on the other side of Holden’s hospital bed. He looks no better—color almost completely drained from his face, but Eren doesn’t think he can say much else to his boss before his knees give out from underneath him.
“Uh, well, it was a lot of technical terms, and—I—um, actually I’m going to let Armin explain!” Eren hurries, all but chucking his phone at the unsuspecting blonde.
Armin’s blue eyes look almost grey with anxiety, but before he can protest, Eren is flailing his hands and pointing fingers and reminding him that Levi will kill them both if he doesn’t start talking.
Reluctant, and terrified, Armin finally lifts the phone to his ear, stuttering out a pathetic hello, but Levi cuts him off before he can say anything else.
“Save it. Send me your location, and pray I don’t kill you when I get there.” Armin chokes out a “yes, sir,” before slowly bringing the phone down to his side.
The good news is that Holden’s allergic reaction wasn’t too severe: her throat had been irritated, and hives had emerged as a result, but it hadn’t been closing up. And luckily, Eren had the endurance to run nearly a mile and half with a four year old tucked under his arm; because with the traffic Armin observed whilst he and Captain huffed and lagged behind, it would have taken thrice as long to get Holden to the ER had they waited and called for an ambulance.
Even better was that Holden was an unnervingly calm kid, even whilst having an allergic reaction. She looked almost back to normal now, save for a few red looking blotches on her neck and upper arm; and seemed more than content to be watching a video on Eren’s phone, despite the situation. She was a little bummed out to find out that she could never eat the new ice cream she liked so much ever again, but she seemed to quickly get over it once Eren reminded her that there were lots of other flavors out there for her to try. Flavors that wouldn’t make her choke to death.
Still, Eren and Armin could probably kiss their jobs goodbye, seeing as they had nearly just poisoned their bosses’ daughter. Holden seemed to like them enough, but, unfortunately, Holden wasn’t the Ackerman who signed their checks.
At the very least, Eren doesn’t think you’ll be too upset with him. He doesn’t think you’ll be ecstatic to hear that while you were away on your already inconvenient work-trip on the other side of the globe, that he also managed to land your daughter in a hospital bed… but you were the more forgiving one. Then again, maybe not so forgiving when it comes to the health and wellbeing of your daughter.
Eren falls back against the wall in dread. You weren’t even in the same country as him and he was worried about what you might say or do to him. Levi was probably less than twenty minutes away and fully capable of beheading him.
“You… uh, you think the Interior Branch is still looking for interns?” Eren breaks the silence, looking towards Armin, who’s taken the seat next to Holden’s bed, petting Captain robotically as the dog sits in his lap.
“I don’t think it matters,” Armin responds, “They won’t hire corpses.”
Fifteen minutes, and several run red lights later, Levi is bursting through the doors to the pediatric wing of the emergency room. He doesn’t care about the old woman at the reception yelling at him for causing a ruckus, or the other parents, doctors, or visitors eyeing him for marching around like he owned the place. Holden was in there somewhere, and he was going to get to her.
“Holden—oh, god, Holden,” Levi coos, frantic, as he marches into Holden’s room, scurrying to the side of her hospital bed. A cold hand reaches up to stroke her face. Angry, red bumps litter the sides of neck, her cheeks are puffier than usual, and the perimeter of her mouth seems a bit irritated, but Levi is relieved. She’s okay, his baby girl is okay.
“’M fine, daddy,” Holden assures him. She’s almost overly-perceptive for her age, able to pick up on her father’s out of character antics, and does her best to console him. “Eren ran with me all the way here when I started coughing and itchin.’”
Levi nods, the dark grey splotches in Holden’s eyes bringing him comfort, ensuring him that she was okay. “They gave me a shot, and I don’t like needles, but I didn’t even cry at all. Ask, Armin and Eren, they saw! Captain, too.”
“Brave girl,” Levi smiles, reaching his hand up to push her hair out of her face then leans over to press a kiss to her forehead.
Levi had almost forgotten that Eren and Armin were in the room until he hears a blundering cough from behind him. The younger boys look petrified, Eren practically shaking in his shoes, while Armin doesn’t even have the confidence to look him in the eye.
“We’re really sorry, Levi,” Eren apologizes, voice scratchy and wobbly, like he’d been the one to just get a shot, “We didn’t know—and when she started coughing and saying she couldn’t breathe, I swear, I ran here as fast as I could—”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s… fine?”
Levi sighs. Maybe he’d been a little harsh with them on the phone, letting his emotions get the best of him. He’d already been pissed off enough to not have the time to spend with Holden this weekend; hearing that she’d been hurt was just the final push over the edge for him, but it wasn’t necessarily Armin or Eren’s fault.
“I didn’t know either,” Levi exhales, reaching at hand out to pet the top of Holden’s head again, the young girl now distracted once again by the phone in her hand, “She’s never had a reaction to anything before, and neither (Y/N) or I have any strong allergies.”
Armin shuffles where he’s standing. “The doctor said she might be allergic to tree nuts. We, uh, we gave her pistachio ice cream after lunch.”
If there’s anything concerning Levi, it’s that they gave Holden ice cream before dinner, but he supposes he can let it go for now.
“Eren told me to try it, and it tasted good, daddy,” Holden interjects, “Before I started coughing, it was good.”
“Ah, well, you can’t—you shouldn’t eat things that make you feel sick!” Eren stutters loudly.
“But it was good,” Holden pouts, “And you said to try new things, Eri. I won’t know if it makes me sick if I don’t try them.”
Levi holds back his laughter. He knows that Holden definitely wouldn’t want to try the same same flavor again knowing now that she was allergic to it; she was just pulling at Eren’s leg. Levi would have to keep an eye out for the stuff anyway, especially if her oh-so-precious Eren has expressed any former love for it.
“Um, Levi, sir,” Armin calls, pulling Levi’s attention towards the blonde, “We didn’t know if (Y/N) would have landed already, but do you think you should call her, to, um, let her know?”
Levi’s face pales three shades when he realizes that none of them had already informed you that your daughter was currently hospitalized with a new found allergy.
“You can call her,” Levi says, a shudder in his spine at the thought of relaying this information to you, “That’s your death sentence, not mine.”
#aot x reader#snk x reader#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#aot imagines#snk imagines#levi ackerman fluff#levi ackerman smut#eren x reader#aot fluff
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Can I request mad lady d wanting comfort from her s/o after she yeeted that vanity across the room❤️
Take A Deep Breath - Lady Dimitrescu X Reader - 1099 Words
Tags: Reader gender is not specified, Slight canon divergence but not much
Note: Okay this would've been out a week and a half ago but I accidentally deleted the whole thing and haven't had the energy to rewrite until now. Although I'm glad I've had the chance to rewrite it because this is double the length it originally was. I also went slightly off the prompt but in a good way.
On a normal day you would have no problem hanging out in the room you and Alcina share. But on this particular occasion with some random man hunting through the castle, hidden away in a giant bedroom with multiple hidden passages is the last place you want to be.
Now and again loud gunshots and yelling echoes through the castle and you want nothing more than to be out there helping Alcina and her daughters fight. But considering you're still human, you're stuck in this room while Daniela guards the main door to stop anyone getting in (or you escaping). Every half hour or so Alcina or one of her daughters will come in to check on you, but no matter how many times you ask what's happening they never give an answer.
Although things have been quiet for almost forty-five minutes. And normally no news is good news, but you can't help but wonder if it's only so quiet because the castle now has four dead vampires laying in the halls. That is until you hear Alcina storming into her dressing room attached to the bedroom.
You're about to go in and ask her for some sort of answer but before you can open the door you hear her on the phone. To none other than Mother Miranda. You haven't been told much about Mother Miranda but you have quickly learned all four vampires absolutely despise her. You listen in on the conversation but all you learn is that the intruder, Ethan Winters, has escaped and is now loose around the castle or castle grounds. You can't help but think this man is fairly talented if he can escape Heisenberg and four vampires with anger issues.
Once Alcina hangs up you hear her take a deep breath followed by a loud crash. She loudly barges into the bedroom giving you a small fright. The first thing she does is ask how you're doing.
"Well, it would be nice to know what's going on out there but no one seems willing to give me any answers." You say slightly anoyed.
"That stupid man thing outsmarted my fool of a brother and is now wreaking havoc around my castle."
Just as Alcina finishes her sentence laughter can be heard down the hall, and not a moment later Daniela throws open the door followed by a very dead looking man being dragged by Bela and Cassandra.
"He got himself stuck at a dead end." Bela deadpans. "Men are such idiots." She mumbles to herself.
"Sooooo we killed him." Cassandra says happily.
"What shall we do with the body, mother?" Daniela asks, almost bouncing with happiness.
"Throw him in a ditch and leave him to the worms for all I care." Alcina says with a dismissive wave of her hand. And just like that the daughters leave again, dragging Ethan's body with them.
"So now what?" You ask quietly.
"Now we go back to quiet castle life. I for one would not mind sleeping early tonight." Alcina sounds exhausted now that her anger is dying down. Of course she's still angry, she will be for days, but she is also clearly relieved there is no longer an intruder in her home.
You help Alcina take her makeup off, completely in awe of how beautiful she is. You personally think she is beautiful without her makeup but you understand that she must maintain a certain look of power around her servants and the lycans in the village. Every time you try to compliment Alcina she will immediately come back with how beautiful you are today, given the chance she could spend hours talking about how beautiful you are inside and out. And you could do the same with her.
You next move onto brushing her hair, slowly working your way through all the tangles that have been left behind by multiple fights with Ethan. Alcina is quiet the whole time, but you can see in her eyes she's grateful for you and how gentle you are with her despite how intimidating she can be.
Once you're done with her hair Alcina goes into her dressing room to get changed into a nightgown, you however just throw on an oversized hoodie and jump into the gigantic bed.
You always find it entertaining how careful Alcina is when getting into bed, she seems genuinely terrified of accidentally crushing you. It took weeks of sharing a bed for her to sleep beside you instead of right at the edge of the bed. And Bela always found it amusing to her mother sleeping at the edge of the bed while a small human was sprawled in the middle of it.
But now she's more than happy for you to curl up against her. Well, on her. You don't use a pillow, you always sleep using her bicep as a pillow with your head tucked under her chin. It's like an adult cuddling a baby. You fit perfectly in her arms and one thing's for sure, even though the heatingless castle is atop a snowy mountain, you will never be cold when you sleep.
But tonight, despite being exhausted, neither you nor Alcina can sleep. You can tell by Alcina's heartbeat that she's still on high alert.
Without bothering to move from your comfy spot yet you ask if she's okay. You already know the answer but you don't know what else to ask.
"What if that filthy rat wasn't alone?" She asks quietly.
"Then your stubborn daughters who refuse to sleep until the middle of the night will deal with whoever else shows up."
"If I let my guard down and something happens to you I would never be able to forgive myself." She says, her voice softer than it's been since she first heard of Ethan.
You shimmy back a little bit and are met with faintly glowing gold eyes that are dimly lit by the moonlight.
"Do you really think anyone would try to mess with me when I'm wrapped in the arms of a nine foot tall vampire?" You ask in a teasing tone.
"I would rather not take the risk."
You place your hand on her cheek and she closes her eyes, always finding comfort in your touch. "Take a deep breath and allow yourself to finally rest." you say gently.
Much to your surprise, she listens to you and it doesn't take long for her to fall asleep with you softly stroking her cheek. You carefully tuck yourself back under her chin and it doesn't take long before you're asleep peacefully too.
#lady dimitrescu x reader#lady dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu#resident evil village#resident evil 8#bela dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu#asks
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Home
this all takes place in my poly frontier universe
pairing: triple frontier guys - Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco (Frankie) “Catfish” Morales, and Ben “Benny” Miller x (f) reader
wordcount: 3k
warnings: obviously a poly relationship, which includes kissing, domestic intimacy with all of them (not just with the reader, but not in-between Will and Ben because nope), mild sexual themes
summary: scenes at the beginning of making a house with five people feel like home
<<
The manicured grass is soft where it peaked around the edges of your sandals. Hands running over the grooves of they key in your pocket, you gaze around the little front yard, mind conjuring daydreams that fit on the weathered porch of the house.
Two bathrooms will be enough right? Your thoughts are running - creating and erasing images of the future, trying to squish them like magic into the home in front of you. The yard is big enough to extend the garage and for plenty of home projects…
Across the fence and a long stretch of field, a woman is hiking her skirts up, making a beeline for you. The neighbor’s house is a considerable distance away, being out in the countryside, but she must have been watching your tour from her garden with interest.
The others had left moments before, Santi promising to come back whenever you were done. After weeks of looking at houses, it became a little ritual of yours, to spend a few minutes looking around without the clutter of wonderful distractions.
“So which one of those strapping young men is your beau?” She asks conspiringly, eyes gleaming. It catches you off guard – the lack of introduction, but she seems harmless enough.
Your smile is equally mischievous, and your head tilts a hair.
“Well, which one do you think?”
The woman considers, boot tip tapping away at her grass. You replay the moments she could’ve seen, which were few, wondering if you’d leaned in any particular direction, and wait.
“Now that I think about it, I haven’t got a clue,” her smile is wide, softer and more genuine than before - polite. “As long as you’re good neighbors,” she explains, “I guess I wouldn’t care if it was one or all of you next door.”
You smile, thanking her as salutations ring in your ears, watching with grateful eyes as she hikes back towards her home. Then you move, wandering through the empty rooms for long, quite minutes before you peak over the fence again. The woman had gone inside, and if you squint you can see who you think is her husband, sleeping with a dog on the porch.
In the other directions, there isn’t a house within a reasonable distance. A knot loosens in your chest, as an unexpected feeling of freedom from judging eyes blooms in its place.
When Santi comes back to pick you up, you take his hand across the console. His skin is warm, and his thumb automatically begins to gently move across your knuckles.
“I think it’s perfect, Pope.”
He looks at you curiously, minding his thoughts for a moment.
“Yeah, love?”
The sun was beginning to set, and you look at the peaceful little home in the rear view mirror, and smile.
“Yeah.”
-
“What?”
“We need to … break in every room.”
“I’m just saying -"
“Oh he’s talking about – wait are you really horny, right now?”
“There are boxes everywhere, idiot.”
You walk in carrying a single plant and a stack of pizzas and the conversation hushes.
“Ah – payment,” Frankie kisses your cheek, moving the plant by the window as Santi clears the table.
Someone makes a quip about it being Santi’s house and you wince, the utopia popping.
“We don’t get paid to move our own stuff, Catfish.” His dark hair is damp with sweat but he seems otherwise unaffected by the hours spent hauling. It was still surreal – that this is actually happening, that this unanimously became a long term desire.
He has the most money and Will has the best credit score, so they bought the house to save you all from questions. The movement isn’t lost on your Ironhead, and he rubs a soothing circle on your shoulder as he reaches for a plate. Of everyone, he was the one who most understood your anxiety – close proximity always led to arguments at first.
“You got lucky,” Benny takes the first slice, accepting a napkin for an additional piece. “You fell in love with a pretty good moving crew.”
“I think so,” you grin, trying to ignore your anxiety. He inhales the food, pulling you into his lap as he bickers with Will about whether or not more needed to get done today.
Eventually Frankie dictates that at the very least some cleaning should be started and the bedding should be unpacked for the evening. The agree with varying degrees of enthusiasm and after a handful of innuendos your loves begin to disperse, too dutiful to let work go unfinished. The bedframe practically builds itself, and a portable speaker makes Santi’s hips twitch as he floats through the half-barren rooms.
When Will rolls his eyes at Frankie’s choice of screw, you duck away, nerves thrumming.
And you wander around, fake cleaning, until you find your Benny clearing pizza plates. Even amongst boxes and bins and old blankets, he could be at a photo shoot. The evening light make his hair look like silk, and his eyes shine like he’s making you promises this very moment.
“I wouldn’t worry too much,” he says, drawing you into his arms as your head tilts. “We spent years in bunks and tents, and we were younger then.”
His chest was warm and you press your cheek to it, nodding. You hadn’t thought he had noticed, how anxious you’d been about the change, but you had been foolish. Even through his shirt, you can feel the thumping of his giant heart, steady as a drumbeat.
Replaying the evening in your mind, you let go of some of your worries, one by one, and he kisses the top of your head. It’s a thoughtful thing, and it never ceases to amaze you how easily he can wrap you around his finger.
“Ben?”
He makes a noise, somewhere between a hum and a grunt.
You pull his face down to yours, kissing him hard. It was a kiss that says you're grateful, and a kiss that says you love him for being… him.
He accepts it eagerly, and tiredness from the day long gone ad he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to your lips. The world spins and you feel him shove something heavy off the couch before replacing it with you.
The cushions are dusty from everything but he makes space, and you stop caring as he moves on top of you.
The others would find you soon, their instincts kicking in, but you savor it. Benny, pressing into you, kissing you in the evening light.
The beginning of their conversation from earlier blooms in your mind and you grin as his lips trailed down your neck. It suddenly didn’t seem implausible that he planned this.
“Breaking in” aside, this was the first room you where you truly felt like this could be home.
-
You feel his hands gently replace yours on the zipper and you jump a little - he stands just outside the mirror reflection as you watch the skirts around your ankles. Behind you the big bed is made neatly, there’s a ridiculously large closet, and a tangle of phone chargers.
The bedroom: the place that set apart your home from others. The room that housed five individuals, a web of relationships, a miracle of mixed bodies and minds and hearts.
It looks big, behind you.
Warm, daft fingers tie the extra strings, a neat little bow hanging just between your shoulder blades. The silence is thick, weighted with adoration, but when he breaks it, it’s as if he can’t resist.
“You’re beautiful,” he moves closer, kissing your temple and drinking you in. Turning, your heart aches.
Will is in his dress uniform, crisscrossed with crisp lines and newly shined awards. His hair is lighter after the summer, and he tried to comb it neatly to one side. Compliments catch in your throat as you stare and he smiles, turning you gently so he can kiss you properly. His mouth tastes like mint and you can smell hints of his cologne lingering on his skin.
“Look at you,” you murmur, lips still brushing over his. Letting your hands wander over his face, smoothing his eyebrows, you feel almost in awe of him. Still, he flushes, pleased at your reaction.
“Thank you.”
His chuckle is warm, almost raspy as he tries to enjoy the quietness of your conversation, and he shakes his head. Really, you were sure he was thankful that he was been the only one free for your special evening.
“Thank you,” you correct him. “You didn’t have to do any of this.” The dinner, for your job.
In the mirror, he looked like diamonds and sapphires and gold. Will was like an action figure sometimes, solid and sculpted and stoic, but… he was looking at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky.
It made you blink, his eyes sliding over you, pupils just a little more blown than the lighting required - a gentle reset demanding your attention.
Looking back in the mirror for a moment, the room didn’t seem quite as big, or quite as revealing. It was comforting, how out of place the two of you looked, dressed to the nines because… this was your place. The softness surrounded by details perfectly woven into your life.
Turning, you slip your arms around his neck, gently musing his hair, and his eyebrows draw together, accepting, but confused.
And as you tuck your hand into his elbow and step into your heels, you resist the urge to thank him again.
“I like it better like this,” you admit, and he flushes again, beaming. Looking around, you realize you’re actually looking forward to coming home more than you’re excited to leave. It’s a new feeling, in this space with the four of them and it hits you, hard in your chest. Still, the man beside you is unwavering and you let the feeling consume you, knowing that you’re safe.
-
“Frankie, what is that?”
He flinches, nervousness cutting the excitement on his face.
“Rhetorical question,” Santi says, grinning at you. “He got it from a friend who was going to toss it out.”
It’s a hot tub, taking up a decent chunk of your back porch.
“If anyone can make it work like a dream, it’s Catfish.” Will’s tone is matter-of-fact, all honesty and pride.
Your sweet Francisco drops his tool and grabs your hand, his dark eyes big. “¿Cariño, por favor? From me, to you?” You can see his laptop up, replacement parts on saved tabs, and you tiptoe to kiss his cheek. He likes to have projects, needs to have somewhere to do things, fix things, create things. Maybe at one point it was because he liked the distraction, it was a … replacement coping mechanism, if you will, but it became his pride, to use his hands to improve your lives.
It doesn’t take long, two weeks at most, between his job and his loves, and his long list of honey-dos, but he does it.
“Please and thank you,” you say, and when he kisses you, slow and deep and happy, you hear cheers and high-five and you almost can’t kiss him because he’s smiling.
And it takes awhile to fill, (Will thanking the stars that the water bill is reasonable,) and even longer to heat, and then it’s ready. The boys yank on swim trunks, thanking Frankie with enthusiasm, and you watch them sink into the steaming tub with as they sigh.
You have a bathing suit, of course you do, but you pull on one of his work shirts, knowing he won’t mind the chemicals from the water making the stains blur. And you pair of shorts you caught him watching your butt in, thinking of acknowledging his hard work in your own way.
The volume of your bodies makes it overflow, hot water sloshing onto the ground, but it’s bliss. It’s big, and they shout over the bubbles, talking excitedly about the future, and your heart feels warm in your favorite way.
The others leave early, taking loud laughter with them, and it leaves you and your Catfish. You let yourself float, moving right on top of him, and his hands grab at your hips, slipping and sliding over your skin as he kisses you once, twice. Slow.
It’s late – the stars stretch, there’s a bit of a breeze, and there’s not a light on for miles.
“You like it?” his voice is raspy, quiet, intense, but almost shy. Like if you said no it would break him in two.
“Of course I do, Frankie.” He looks pleased, hand absentmindedly running under his shirt and over your side. Even with the heat of the water, his hand feels like socks warmed in the dryer some cold winter morning. Comforting, maybe a little electric.
You let out a long, happy sigh, and settle against him, content to stay with him until you’re pruny.
“I think…. This is exactly what this house needed.” He starts a little, surprised, but it’s not an exaggeration.
There was always work to do and things to change, but it was the first time you looked out, and didn’t feel a twinge of fear, that anyone was looking in. It would’ve felt vulnerable, intimate to be so exposed, but… it was perfect, because he created it for you. Confidence and pride bubble around you, and Frankie’s eyebrows dip as he smiles – understanding.
-
“Yeah.” Its simple, not too hot, not too cold. Just… right.
It feels like… tar and lava, hot and dark and thick, bubbling and sticky and you want to punch something. Or scream, or cry.
Your Pope finds you standing rigid, smudges of flour on your skin and clothes, pans and spatulas strewn.
“Are we out of sugar?” To your credit, you try to keep your voice even, but he knows you better than that.
Santi shakes his head, plucking it from the pantry and looking guilty. Your mind pauses it’s rampage, and you wince, because you should be the one making that apologetic face, not him. Hot tears bubble in your eyes and you hate it, hate that they’re coming for what feels like no reason.
“Baby,” he says, tone pleading, setting the sugar down and reaching for you. The afternoon sun makes his eyes like rich, deep pots of gold, his hair somehow both soft and statuesque.
When he pauses, the tears fall against your will, just two thick drops down your cheeks. His hand encompasses your whole jaw, thumb gentle as it rubs away the saltwater, and he looks a tad helpless.
And there’s understanding in his eyes and through the blur you think maybe it’s pity. He stands, and your heart clenches, knowing he’ll go get Will, or someone because you’re being ridiculous but… he doesn’t.
You’re saying something about how the kitchen is wrong, how it’s been building for days, you’ve been here almost a week and you can’t fucking find anything. Panic and frustration locked horns in your chest and you couldn’t breathe and all you wanted to do was make something nice –
Instead, he’s pulling out things and piling them onto the floor in categories around you. It’s almost comical the stacks he makes but he seems determined and in your confusion the tears slow to a stop.
“Santi –” he hushes you. The cupboard doors hang open, and he guides you, lifting you up and up and into his arms. It’s solid and grounding, and he’s not as tall as the others and you needed him desperately.
And slowly, you begin to put things away where it makes sense, to you, and he helps. Not once does he argue with you, not even a moment when his dark eyebrows knit together in judgement. Dutifully he cleans and places everything just where you tell him, and you can almost feel the steam rising off of you as you begin to cool.
The final pile is a mountain of cloth, aprons and oven mitts and… something you’ve never seen before. Or actually, something you had, just not in your house. A set of hand towels you’d wistfully looked at awhile ago, before talking yourself out of the purchase. You had dozens at this point and didn’t need more but…
The man seating on the floor, folding them into perfect squares, is the answer to the question your mind produces.
You feel like you’ve been hosed down from head to toe, almost cold from the absence of frustration in your blood.
Pushing the pile to the side you climb into his lap, as determined as he was, and he looks surprised. It’s silly: sitting in your lover’s lap on the kitchen floor, but it feels more real than a movie. It’s your kitchen, yours and his, in this moment.
You kiss him, slow and purposeful and –
He knows you like the back of his hand.
-
You’re sitting on the bathroom counter distracting Santi as he shaves when Benny bursts in to tell you a story.
Will trails behind him, patiently waiting for his brother to take a breathe so he can set the record straight. Absentmindedly he weaves between them to pick up a fallen hand towel, passing it to Pope to wipe the shaving cream from his jaw. They share a moment and Benny’s story stutters out. Looking up from your nails you see Frankie leaning against the doorframe, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth.
There’s hardly room to move – and you couldn’t have it any other way.
His eyebrows are bent as he takes in the four of you, crammed into the spare bathroom, and Ben laughs.
<<
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for the poly frontier:
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#triple frontier poly fic#poly frontier#will miller x reader#santiago garcia x reader#francisco morales x reader#benny miller x reader#maybe i dont know people
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DIWK - Chapter nine: “Fuck it, I love you”
Word count: 8,2K
Summary: (Y/N) is struggling with her feelings for Spencer, and being just her friend might be harder than she thought. Spencer feels everybody but (Y/N) knows he is in love with her, and for a second, he is sure he will lose her.
Warnings: Cursing, angst frustration, mention of S03E09 (Penelope), usual Criminal Minds content.
A/N: Hello my dearest friends! hope you are having a great week, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. All feedback is welcome!
Masterlist
Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen |
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(Y/N)'s point of view
Since Rossi joined the team, we were as busy as we had been in a long time. We didn't have much free time, and most of the cases took us out of Virginia. But, it was our job, and we all liked it, which is why none of us complained much. No one but JJ, who still tried to keep her relationship with Will a secret.
On the bright side, all that traveling and working with the team got us even closer. Having Rossi there gave us a boost to be better at what we did and be even better friends. We had to spend a lot of time together, and by the look in David's eyes, you could tell he was surprised by how good we all got along. At least most of the time.
We were in Florida trying to find an unsub who kidnapped and mutilated women when it happened. After knowing them for over two years, Garcia and Morgan had a fight. A real fight.
- "Hey, how is it going with Father Marks? Any of the volunteers jumped out at him?"- I asked Morgan when I found him at the station after a long day trying to find a lead that might take us to the unsub or the victims.
- "Not yet"- my cellphone rang that second, and Garcia's voice at the other side of the line gave me more info on the case.
- "I'm still running the particulars of our homicides though vicap. Nothing so far."- she announced.
- "Ok. I just sent you the volunteer search list"- I walked from Morgan and sipped my coffee, feeling there was something off.
- "Ok. And I'm cross-checking the names against mental institution records."
- "Pay attention to individuals who were involuntarily committed in Florida. Rossi is convinced our unsub is the type that likes to stick close to home."
- "Got it. Talk to you later."
- "Wait, PG. You usually call Morgan about these kinds of things. Is everything ok?"- I whispered though I knew Morgan was paying a lot of attention to what I was talking about on the phone with Garcia.
- "God, I hate profilers"- she groaned at the other side of the line.
- "Come on, tell me."
- "Fine. I met this guy in the coffee shop I go to every day. His computer crashed, and I helped him fix it. He flirted, I flirted, and he asked for my number, and somehow I gave it to him 'cos he was incredibly hot and nice, and did I mention he was smoking hot? I didn't think he was going to call, but he did, which was surprising 'cos these things do not happen to me, sweet cheeks, never! But it did! And when I told Derek, he just told me I have to blow him off 'cos it's too weird."
- "What!?"- Penelope spoke so fast she didn't even breathe.
- "Yes! Just because he wouldn't hit on me doesn't mean another hot guy wouldn't! And he made me feel like I don't deserve anyone's attention."
- "I'm gonna kill him,"- I whispered and turned around. Derek wide opened his eyes and shrugged, not getting what was going on.
- "Don't. I'll take care of him when you guys come home."
- "Well, take care in the mid-time, and I'm here if you need to talk."
I hung down and sighed. Morgan looked at me, knowing I knew what happened between the two of them.
- "So?"
- "You fucked it up,"- I whispered and smacked his shoulder.
- "Is she furious?"
- "She's hurt. That's actually worse."- Derek sighed and shook his head.
- "What do I do?"
- "You mean, other than to apologize?"- I walked with him to get Hotch and tell him what Garcia had just informed us- "Think big, 'cos you really fucked it up."
- "What does Reid do when he fucks things up with you?"- Morgan asked, and I could sense the innuendo hidden in his words.
- "He doesn't do a thing, 'cos he never fucks up"- I answered with a pleased smile and turned to Hotch. It was time to catch a killer, not time to argue with Derek.
I always thought Morgan and Garcia were the greatest friends I had ever met. I could envy their relationship, especially 'cos they could be so flirtatious and so adorable, and at the same time, you knew their friendship was sacred.
I envied that. I don't think Penelope felt for Derek the way I felt about Spencer. That's why I was sure I had fucked it up. I didn't have to catch those kinds of feelings for my best friend, and I felt I had to find a way to get rid of them. I had to stop having a crush on Reid.
Those weeks had been challenging and yet amazing. It was awful knowing I had a crush on my best friend, but I was really enjoying all the time we were spending together. We had been sharing rooms for the last two cases, and that meant endless sleepovers with Spencer. After a long day, we would meet in our room and just share candies, ice cream, pizza, movies, whatever we needed to decompress.
If things had been too hard, I would lay with him on his bed and just cuddle for a while before going back to my bed. More than once, I fell asleep with him, feeling his fingers playing with my hair as he read. I always apologized the following day, but Spencer kept saying he didn't bother, that he had slept well and that I could always count on him whenever I felt bad.
Knowing I had never done that with Mikey or Frank more than a handful of times in all the years we had met each other made me feel like the shit. Sure, I could sleep in the same bed with them, but not the way I did with Spencer. This felt intimate. Serious. Real. Waking up in Spencer's arms was the best way to start my day, and each time it happened, it made me feel worst and worst 'cos I didn't want to ruin the best friendship I ever had over a silly, stupid, meaningless crush.
Each time it happened, I promised myself it would be the last one. And each time I did, I ended up falling into his arms again. It never meant anything sexual. It was just sharing a bed, cuddling. Holding each other. It was all the intimacy I always refused to share with other people. And I guess that's what freaked me out the most: how vulnerable I was with Reid and how much I enjoyed it for the very first time. Ever.
- "Hey,"- I heard Spencer whisper when we landed. I was curled up on his chest on the couch on the plane, as usual after a long case. I scratched my eyes, probably messing with my makeup, and smiled at him.
- "Sorry... you must have been awfully uncomfortable."
- "Not really. Besides, you looked like you needed a good nap,"- I chuckled and shook my head, sitting down correctly.
- "Next time I drool on your jacket, please wake me up,"- I collected all my things and took a look around- "What time is it?"
- "Almost midnight,"- he announced and stared at me as he held his go bag and put on his jacket- "Do you want to grab something to eat before you go home?"- and I nodded, thinking that was exactly what I had in mind.
But life had other plans, and this time it had nothing to do with us. We were about to get out of my car to catch a late dinner when I got a call from Hotch telling me Penelope was in the local hospital. Spencer's cell phone rang at the same time, and JJ announced the same. We looked at each other for a moment, scared of the worst, and all we managed to do was to get buckled up and drive to the hospital. We both needed to know Penelope would be ok, but all we knew was that she had been shot, and the doctors were doing all they could to save her life.
As soon as we reached the waiting area, we met Aaron and JJ. They looked as worried as we were.
- "She's in surgery,"- JJ announced, and I hugged her immediately- "There's no word."
- "This is crazy,"- Spencer whispered as I felt JJ's arms tighten around me.
- "I can't believe it! I talked to her before we took off."- I murmured and closed my eyes.
- "What do we know?"- Rossi asked, walking over in a hurry with Prentiss.
- "Police think it's a botched robbery,"- Aaron explained.
- "Where's Morgan?"- Emily asked, looking around the hall.
- "He's not answering his cell,"- JJ replied, and Spencer took his phone right away.
- "I'll call him again."
I looked at him as he walked away and turned to my friends. Emily and JJ were doing their best to stay strong, but it was clear they were fighting the tears back, just as badly as I was doing.
Spencer walked back and shook his head. He couldn't reach Morgan. I walked to him and rested my head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to him. It was unreal. I felt I was in a nightmare, and I couldn't wake up, no matter how much I tried.
- "They can't give me an update,"- JJ walked over to us after half an hour. She had been trying to get more info about Penelope's condition, but nothing.
- "Morgan's phone just keeps going straight to voicemail,"- Spencer added, and Prentiss's angry voice nearly made me jump.
- "Where the hell is he?!"
Nearly two hours later, Spencer finally contacted Derek, and in less than half an hour, he rushed into the hospital and found us still waiting for news about Penelope. He ran over, shocked and confused, and looked at us, waiting for an explanation.
- "She's been in surgery a couple of hours."- JJ whispered as soon as he stood by our side.
- "I was at church. My phone was off,"- he explained and mostly tried to excuse himself for not being there earlier.
- "There is nothing you could have been doing here,"- Reid whispered, trying to make him feel better. Spoiler: it didn't work. Morgan was getting more and more hyperventilated with every second he spent in that hospital.
- "The police got any leads?"
- "I spoke to the lead detective. He doesn't think we'll get anything from the scene."
Hotch spoke in the calmest voice he had. Morgan was about to say something but bit his tongue. Instead of yelling, he walked around the hall for a few minutes until a doctor approached us.
- "Penelope Garcia?"- and we all nearly yelled "Yes" as a desperate reply.
- "The bullet went into her chest and ricocheted into her abdomen. She lost a lot of blood. It was touch-and-go for a while, but we were able to repair the injuries."
- "So what are you saying?"- JJ questioned as we all held our breath.
- "One centimeter over, and it would have torn right through her heart. Instead, she could actually walk out of here in a couple of days. And I'd say that's a minor miracle."
The way we all sighed, relieved at those words, was priceless and unbeatable. The doctor smiled at us and added.
- "She needs her rest. You can see her in the morning."
- "Thank you,"- I smiled at him, and he was gone. I turned around and looked at Reid. He cut me a short smile as Hotch's voice caught our attention.
- "David and I will go to the scene. I think the rest of you should be here when she wakes up. I don't care about protocol. I don't care whether we're working this officially or not. We don't touch any new cases until we find out who did this."
We all nodded right away. No one had other plans. And after those words, Hotch and Rossi were out of the hospital, and we were left waiting for Penelope to come back from surgery.
- "How are you?"- Reid whispered and handed me a new cup of coffee.
- "Scared. You?"
- "Me too"
- "Who could ever want to hurt Penny? She is adorable,"- I murmured and shook my head.
- "We are gonna find whoever did this"- Spencer held my hand and cut me the warmest smile. I nodded and looked at Derek, who stood up from his chair for the hundredth time and walked to Penelope's room to see if she was ok.
- "In case we ever fight, I want you to know I will always forgive you,"- I murmured in Spencer's ear and rested my head on his shoulder.
- "Should I be worried?"- he asked me, and I just shook my head.
- "I just wanted you to know that you will always be my best friend, Spencer Walter Reid. No matter what happens between us."
And I meant every word back then. I had no idea what was coming ahead and how much things would change within a few months.
Spencer's point of view
The attack against Penelope hit us all hard. She had been shot by the same man who had invited her out for dinner. The one she and Derek had had a fight about.
Of course, Morgan was the one who was more affected by the whole situation. I tried to comfort him, and he nearly killed me. I knew Derek didn't mean to be mean. He was just losing it and feeling overwhelmingly guilty about everything going on. He was in hell, and you could tell. I didn't want to think what it would be like to be in his place. If anything ever happened to (Y/N) and I wasn't there to help her, I would go crazy. So I understood how Derek felt and did my best to be supportive.
Those days also made it pretty evident Rossi was still shocked we were such close friends and team members at the same time. I know he was friends with Gideon, but the fact our friendship surprised him so much made me wonder how close they really were.
It didn't get better when we were all asked to stop working on the case after Hotch found an encrypted file in Garcia's system, and she ended up suspended. That's who we found out how the FBI had recruited her.
Morgan and I were at the hospital with Penelope when Hotch gave her the news and heard the story of her hackers days. Something that I bet she didn't really want us to know about her.
- "After my parents died, I... kind of went off the rails for a while. I dropped out of Cal Tech. I lived underground, basically. But I kept teaching myself code. It was like the one thing that kept me together. In the way, the bureau decided to keep an eye on me, I guess... Did you know they keep track of hackers?"
Neither Morgan nor I opened our mouths. We couldn't, 'cos we were processing the whole information.
- "They do, of the ones who have the skill to be either extremely useful or a potential menace."
- "So they offered you a job?"- I asked her, and she simply nodded- "Like Frank Abagnale. The bureau figured if you can't beat 'em, hire 'em."
- "Yeah. Something like that."
- "Garcia, what's on the encrypted file?"- Derek crossed his arms on his chest and stared at her, waiting to hear nothing but the truth.
- "I'm required to keep a record of everything the team does. And after my system got hacked and Elle got shot, I just didn't want anyone else to be able to get at you."
- "We'll talk to the doctor, see if he'll clear you to leave,"- I whispered and left the room, just in time to get JJ's call to announce we were officially off the case. It wasn't good, and it wasn't getting any better at all.
In a way, the fact we were all such good friends wasn't as beneficial to the case as it could be. It all came clear later that night. Penelope was attacked again, this time in her own house. Unfortunately, a cop was killed in the process, and if it weren't for Morgan, who insisted on crashing her couch that night, Penelope would have been dead too.
We were all at her house at three in the morning. We wanted to take her to the BAU and keep her safe, though we all knew it would be hard to explain to the authorities, all things considered. We were all just talking about what had just happened when Garcia started remembering more details about her date with her attacker, and we decided to ask more questions about it in case she could give us more info that might lead us to him.
- "Tell us about the car,"- I told her and sat in front of her.
- "Why?"
- "Just go with him"- Morgan smiled at her and nodded, trying to reassure her everything was ok. It wasn't, not even close.
- "You said it was white, 4-door, American. What else?"- I asked Penelope, but she shook her head, confused.
- "That's it. It was just a car."
- "No, come on, think. Anything. Go back."- Morgan held her hand. We could tell she was trying her best to cooperate, and he was making his best effort to be sweet and calm, considering he was losing it to catch the asshole who hurt her.
- "The seat belt was buckled behind his back. Why does that matter?"- and that was progress.
- "It wasn't a rental. It was for surveillance,"- Derek explained to her.
- "Agents don't wear seat belts. They need to get out in a hurry"- (Y/N) added and was about to add something else when Rossi walked across the room and sat in front of Penelope.
- "All right, let's cut the crap. You need to be straight with us. Right now!"- she wide opened her eyes in shock and turned to Morgan- "Look at me, not them!"- Rossi commanded.
- "I'm not hiding anything,"- Garcia whispered, astonished.
- "You got shot. Most people get shot for a reason,"- she tried to look at Derek again- "Eyes here!"
- "Ease up, Rossi!"- Morgan shouted when David raised his voice, scaring everybody in that room.
- "You got a roomful of people here willing to believe that an FBI agent has tried to kill you. We need to know everything you do on company time that we don't know about!"
Rossi yelled on her face, pushing her to tell the truth, and Garcia nearly started crying.
- "What?"
- "Come on, man!"- I guess we were all waiting for Derek to lose it and punch him.
- "It's nothing bad!"- Penelope yelled, and every eye in the room turned to her.
- "Spit it out!"- David pushed her again.
- "It's... I counsel victims' families, and they know where I work, so sometimes they ask me to look into cases for them."
- "What does that mean?"- Rossi frowned and kept his eyes on hers.
- "It just means that the cases, the unsolved ones, I tag them, so whoever's investigating them knows that the FBI considers them a priority."
- "You're not authorized to do that"- Hotch's voice was as severe as kind, which surprised us all. Rossi the most, I guess, 'cos he stood up and turned around.
- "I know. I was just trying to help."- Garcia whispered, fighting the tears back.
- "But whoever's working those cases thinks you're watching them,"- (Y/N) said in a softer voice, probably to explain to Garcia how the whole situation had ended up with her being shot.
- "I just wanted to put pressure on them so that they don't slide,"- Penelope excused herself.
- "How many cases are we talking about?"- Hotch asked.
- "I don't know. 7, 8 maybe. I need to get into my system."
- "You can't. You're suspended,"- Hotch reminded her, though it sounded more like "you are grounded."
- "Wait a minute,"- Morgan interrupted the conversation- "Garcia, on your date, you said this guy was pressing you to find out if you were working murder cases. Hotch, we gotta look at those files."
Hotch looked at David, who was still as pissed as earlier. I don't think neither of us had ever seen him acting like it.
- "I told you, I'm sick of this jagoff being in front of us,"- Rossi said to him, and Aaron nodded.
- "Dave's right. We'll go back to the BAU. Morgan, Reid, (Y/N), Prentiss, you stay here and make sure no one forgets to log out of the system. Garcia should not have access."
We all stayed in her living room as Garcia walked to her room and hacked her own system. At the other side of the screen, Kevin Lynch, the analyst of another FBI department, was fighting back, trying to protect the files, and losing the fight after a few minutes.
Later on, (Y/N) explained to me that was how they met and finally how they fell in love. I guess everything happens for a reason, after all.
We didn't catch the bad guy that day. Instead, JJ was forced to kill him. It was the very first time she shot anyone, and surprisingly, she wasn't as shook up as we all imagined she might be.
- "You do whatever it takes to protect your family,"- she said when Penelope asked her if she was ok.
And she was right. That's how we all felt for each other at that point. And somehow, we all knew we were going to prove it, sooner or later.
(Y/N)'s point of view
I had been part of the BAU for almost three years already when it happened. And I felt so stupid 'cos we had all had a rough couple of weeks, and the last thing anyone needed was another worry. We had just gotten over the whole Penelope issue; having another member of the team injured was the worst thing that could happen.
But it did.
I got shot.
We were after our unsub. George Flemming. The bastard had killed four women in less than a month, convinced God had sent him to Earth to get rid of sin. We had been after him for two whole weeks until we finally got him. But I was stupid and reckless and didn't wait for backups. I wanted to catch that mother fucker, 'cos the way he had killed those women made me madder than I had ever been with an unsub before. That's too dangerous. You can't lose yourself in a case, 'cos you lose your objectivity. You risk your life every day in this job, but that specific day, I put mine on a silver platter.
We were supposed to wait for backup. I was just checking the perimeter, searching for the unsub. Spencer was with me, but he stayed behind for a second, trying to contact Garcia to run the plate number of a car we found hidden in a barn. I should have waited for him, but I couldn't stay still and do nothing when I heard a woman screaming for help. I had to run and try to save her. I wasn't going to let George kill yet another innocent woman and get away with it. He had to pay.
- "FBI! Freeze!"- I shouted as I walked into the last room of the house and found George holding close and pointing a gun at a woman who was covered in blood and bruises but still very much alive. Which, I must say, was a relief.
- "Stay away!! I'll shoot her!! I swear I'm gonna shoot her!!"
The unsub was sweating cold; he looked sick and weak. He looked like I could definitely take him down in a fight.
- "George! Put down the gun!"- I commanded and didn't move my eyes from him.
- "You put your gun down!"
- "I am sorry, George, but I can't do that!"- I answered- "Now let her go and put the gun down before anyone else gets hurt."
- "I don't have to listen to a whore like you! Who do you think you are? Giving me commands? You are evil!! Evil!"- he shouted, clearly losing control.
- "(Y/N), where the hell are you?!"- I heard Reid asking in the earpiece, and I just shook my head.
- "That's all you've got, George? Hiding women in the back of your house and threatening them with your gun? That makes your God proud?"
- "Shut up!! You bring disgrace to Earth! You should be punished too!!"- I took a step closer slowly and shook my head.
- "You are going to be punished, George. For killing innocent women."
- "Innocent? What makes you think they didn't deserve it?"
- "What makes you think you are the one to judge them?"
I kept my gun pointed at him, but I couldn't take a shot 'cos he grabbed the victim and kept her close to him, like a shield.
- "There's a special place in hell for whores like you!"- he announced, and suddenly, all I could feel was pain. There was a second gunshot, and George was down. I took a look around and saw Morgan still pointing his gun at him from outside the room, as Spencer and Prentiss ran inside, and he moved to me and held me close.
- "Medic!! We need a medic!!"- Reid yelled frantically through the speaker- "(Y/N)! How do you feel?"
- "I'm ok, honey bunny,"- I whispered in the most excruciating pain I had ever felt in my entire life- He just shot my shoulder, nothing important.
But the way Spencer looked at me, I swear that no one has ever looked at me the same until this day.
- "Don't move!"- he commanded, though his voice was soft and gentle. Prentiss took care of checking George's body. He was clearly dead. She liberated his last hostage and helped her to the ambulance while Reid stayed by my side until a doctor appeared.
- "Why didn't you wait for me?"- Spencer asked as they took me to the ambulance.
- "She needed help"- that was all I could say.
- "Please, try not to talk,"- the paramedic commanded and got me into the ambulance, followed closely by Reid.
- "I'm coming with her."
My best friend wasn't asking for permission. He was informing the medical team he wasn't going anywhere else. And by the tone of his voice, it was clear no one was ever going to change his mind.
- "That was so stupid, chipmunk,"- Spencer whispered and held my hand in our way to the nearest hospital. The paramedics kept pressing my shoulder to stop the bleeding, and I just closed my eyes 'cos honestly, it hurt too much to process what was going on.
- "I am so sorry I wasn't there with you, chipmunk."
- "It's ok, honey,"- I mumbled- "You are right. I was stupid. This is my fault."
- "Please, don't talk,"- the paramedic commanded again, and I just shut up 'cos the pain was too much.
Spencer stayed by my side the whole time. After we reached the hospital, the paramedics took me to the ER, where a doctor cleaned my wound and took out the bullet from my shoulder.
It was a clean wound, and luckily, no arteries were hit. I just got some stitches and a sling, plus a few painkillers I really didn't want to take, 'cos after Spencer's experience with drugs, I was scared of painkillers.
- "Thank you,"- I whispered to the nurse who helped me get dressed and walked out of the room to find Spencer filling up the medical forms and Morgan and Prentiss waiting for me
- "How are you feeling, princess?"- Derek asked and caressed my cheek.
- "Like a virgin"- I sang the Madonna song- "Shot for the very first time"- and though Emily chuckled, Spencer didn't think it was funny.
- "I can't believe you think this is something to joke about!"- Reid frowned, upset.
- "Calm down, honey. I'm ok, I'm alive. It was just a shot on the shoulder."
- "Just? Just a shot in the shoulder?"- and Spencer freaked out- "Did you know some of the larger vessels of the human body run through the shoulder? The subclavian artery and vein, which by the way, are the basic blood supply to the upper extremity."
- "I'm sorry, honey bunny. I shouldn't have said that."- I whispered and tried to calm him down, 'cos I knew precisely the kind of man Spencer could be when he was mad and stressed.
- "The brachial plexus is also located in the shoulder, and it's the primary nerve supply to the upper extremity as well,"- he added and didn't take his eyes from the form he was filling.
- "I understand,"- I added, but he didn't stop.
- "You should also know that the shoulder is a very complex spheroid joint, and if it's injured, it can lead to lifelong disability."
I stood in front of Spencer and placed my movable hand on his chest. That forced him to stop writing and look at me.
- "I'm sorry I got hurt. It was a mistake. I didn't mean to make you mad at me or worry. I am ok, I am here, and I promise I won't do something as stupid and reckless as this ever again. Ok?"
Spencer looked at me and sighed. Morgan and Prentiss were still there by our side, and I had the feeling that stopped my friend from saying what was in his mind. Instead, he nodded and cut me a short smile.
- "Good. Can we go home now?"- I asked, and Morgan grabbed my bag immediately.
- "The jet is waiting, pretty girl. Let's go."
The flight back home was too long. It was only a four hours flight from Fargo to Quantico. But it felt eternal. Besides, I kept doing my best to act cool and in zero pain, in a poor attempt not to worry Spencer. Little did I know, no matter what, he would be worried sick anyway.
- "I was on the phone with Frank,"- he announced and sat in front of me with a cup of hot chocolate.
- "Please don't tell me you called to tell him I got shot,"- Spencer stared at me and cut me a short smile. I closed my eyes and groaned- "Did he go nuts?"
- "No, I started by telling him you were alright."
- "Thank you,"- I whispered and sipped the cup he had prepared for me just the way I liked it, even with the little marshmallows.
- "Your mom went bonkers, though."
- "You called my mom?!"- I shouted, and everybody in the team turned around and looked at us- "Why did you do that?"- Spencer looked at me surprised and frowned.
- "You just got shot, chipmunk. Of course, I'm gonna tell your mom!"
- "But she is going to overreact!"
- "She won't! We already talked. She said she'd stop tomorrow by your apartment to have lunch."
- "Tomorrow, I'll be at work for lunch,"- I frowned, and I swear I wanted to cross my arms on my chest, but I couldn't, 'cos... I have been shot.
- "You won't be back to work until next week,"- Aaron announced from his seat, overhearing the conversation.
- "But Hotch! I'm ok!"
- "Spencer is correct. You just got shot. Take the rest of the week,"- I groaned and frowned at my boss.
- "I can still do my paperwork."- I can't believe I was begging not to get days off from work.
- "You do realize most people don't argue when their bosses give them a few days off, right princess?"- Derek took off his headphones and asked, frowning.
- "But I'm not injured,"- I argued, but I knew I was losing that fight.
- "Chipmunk, may I remind you, you just got shot!"- Spencer looked at me, annoyed.
- "But I'm fine! Look at me! I can dance!"- I was about to stand up and do a little dance, but Reid stopped me. He literally grabbed my good arm and kept me on my seat.
- "It's Wednesday. You just have to stay home Thursday and Friday. And I'll be there, making sure you won't do anything stupid."
I looked at Spencer and groaned one more time.
- "There's no way out of this, (Y/N). You are hurt, and I'm gonna take care of you."
- "Will you cook?"- I whispered and pouted, defeated. And Spencer chuckled, blushing.
- "I will definitely call and ask for your favorite food"- I tried not to smile and shook my head.
- "Oh no, no. If you wanna take the lead and take care of me, you will have to do the whole job and cook, Spencer Walter Reid."- I teased him, and his cheeks turned blood red in less than a minute.
- "Fine,"- he whispered, narrowing his eyes.
- "I can give you my carbonara a la Rossi recipe,"- David said to Spencer from his seat- "Guaranteed to heal all wounds, and special to cheer up your girlfriend, kid."
Everybody stayed quiet at the same time. I wide opened my eyes, shocked, and looked at Spencer, whose cheeks were burning red.
- "She... (Y/N) is not my girlfriend,"- Spencer mumbled and avoided looking at me for a few seconds. Rossi chuckled and turned to us.
- "You call each other cute nicknames, you are always together, you argue like I did with my first wife..."
- "No"- I shook my head and did my best to ignore Derek's teasing comments and Emily's laughter.
- "Well, you could have fooled me,"- David smiled at me, and I didn't know what to answer. I frowned and looked at Spencer, who somehow was even more blushed than he had been a moment earlier.
- "I'm driving you, by the way,"- he whispered, and I didn't really have the strength to argue against that, so I just nodded and sighed.
Spencer's point of view
I thought I was going to die when I saw (Y/N) lying on the floor, blood coming from her shoulder. Time passed in slow motion, like a movie cliché. I ran to her, and I didn't know if the perimeter had been secured. I had no idea if the unsub was dead. I would have killed him myself if I hadn't been focused on (Y/N).
Then she smiled and assured me she was ok. But that wasn't enough for me. Her face was so pale, though her smile was shining bright. So I held her and called a medic. She was in pain, and I didn't know what to do to help her.
I held her hand the whole ride to the hospital and stayed by her side in the ER while the doctor cleaned her wound and put some stitches on it. Then I walked with her to the jet, and the whole time I made my best and biggest effort to stay calm. But once we were on the air, on our way back home, I couldn't hold it back anymore. I could feel the tears fighting their way out, no matter how much I tried to keep them inside.
So I did what seemed more logical and locked myself in the backroom. I needed a minute to put myself together again before I had to continue pretending I didn't nearly lose the woman I love that day. So I washed my face and let the water run through my fingers for a few minutes, trying to calm myself down. But I failed, and the tears started falling down my cheeks anyway.
I rested my back against the door and slowly slipped down to the floor until I was sitting, hugging my legs, crying my heart out.
I knew why I was crying. It was a weird mix of fear and relief. I was scared to lose (Y/N), and at the same time, relieved nothing terrible had happened to her. I had to convince myself it was all ok, that she was there on the plane with me, hopefully trying to get some rest.
- "Spence?"- I heard JJ's voice at the other side of the door, and I quickly stood up and washed my face saying, "In a minute." I looked at my reflex. My eyes were puffed, my cheeks were red. There was no way I could ever convince anyone I hadn't been crying.
- "Can you open the door?"
- "There's another bathroom, JJ,"- I said and closed my eyes.
- "I need to talk to you."
- "I'm kind of busy here..."
- "Spence, please"- she begged, and I gave up, only because I knew she wasn't going to leave me alone. No one at the BAU seems to understand the concept of personal space.
I opened the door and let her in. The bathroom was too small for the two of us, and I didn't want to think of all the teasing I would get from Morgan if he saw us locked in there. JJ smiled and handed me a cup of coffee. I just sipped it carefully, 'cos it was very hot, and looked at my hands, avoiding eye contact.
- "Why were you crying?"- she whispered and stood against the wall in front of me.
- "I wasn't,"- I lied, but she just raised an eyebrow, and I knew it was useless to deny it- "It was a hard day, and I needed to decompress somehow."
- "Was it because of (Y/N)?"- she simply asked, and I just nodded- "It wasn't your fault, Spence."
- "I should have been there. But I stayed behind, on the phone with Garcia checking the plate of a car that didn't even matter at the end."
- "You were doing your job, and so was she."
- "But I should have done my job better, 'cos something bad might have happened to her, and I would have never forgiven myself,"- JJ nodded and reached out for one of my hands. I tried not to look at her but failed.
- "Are you going to tell her how you feel?"
- "Telling her I feel guilty she got injured won't stop her from being reckless,"- but JJ shook her head.
- "No, Spence. I'm talking about you telling her you are in love with her."
I widened my eyes and stayed still, shocked, blushed. JJ cut me a short smile and probably tried to soothe me, 'cos I immediately got all defensive.
- "What... what are you talking about? I am not in love with (Y/N),"- I whispered and prayed no one outside that bathroom had heard her.
- "Spencer, there is nothing wrong with being in love. I actually think you two would make a cute couple."
- "No, JJ, no. I am not in love with her."
- "Spence, I'm not a profiler, but you are not that hard to read. I can see the way you look at her."
- "She is my best friend."
- "But you love her,"- JJ sentenced, and I just sighed- "It's not wrong to have feelings for someone, Spence. I am sure she feels the same way too."
- "We are just friends. That's it. Thanks for the coffee,"- I added and opened the door.
I walked out of the bathroom in a rush. To avoid talking with anyone on the plane, I called Frank and told him what had happened. I also asked him for Mrs. (Y/L/N) phone number and explained the facts too. She was so scared it took me a while to calm her down.
- "I'm going to stay with her tonight,"- I said and looked at (Y/N) at the other side of the yet. She hadn't slept at all, and I knew she had to rest.
- "Thank you, Spencer. I'll be in Virginia tomorrow. I'm visiting Phoenix in New York this week."
- "Don't worry, Mrs. (Y/L/N), I'll take care of her."
- "You are the sweetest man she could have met,"- she whispered before hanging down, and I couldn't help but wonder if she knew it too.
Apparently, I wasn't hiding my feelings for (Y/N) very well. If JJ could see it, maybe anyone else could. And after what Rossi said, I didn't know if I was busted or not. I didn't know anything. (Y/N) seemed to be as shocked as I pretended to be, so I guess I felt safe. But I knew I had to watch my back now.
Of course, planning to stay with her that night didn't make it easier for me at all.
- "I'm ok, honey bunny,"- she argued and sat carefully on her couch- "You don't have to stay here with me."
- "I'm sorry, chipmunk, but you were shot. There is nothing on Earth that's gonna make me leave you alone right now."
- "Fine, then help me take a shower,"- she simply said, and I widened my eyes. I know I even held my breath at that. I stared at her from the kitchen door, on my way to make her a cup of tea.
- "Well, in that case, I, I will do... I will do whatever you need to help you,"- I whispered and made my best not to stutter. She shook her head and sighed.
- "I was bluffing, honey. But I mean it, you don't have to stay and take care of me. I'll be fine. Just go home and rest,"- but all I could do was walk to the kitchen and put on the kettle.
- "I'm not going anywhere, so... how do you feel about that carbonara a la Rossi recipe?"
- "Spencer Walter Reid, you don't cook."
- "I do cook! Do you think I've lived on take-outs and coffee all these years?"
- "Hell yeah!"- she said and chuckled. She was right, though. I wasn't the best or more experienced cooker on Earth. But for her, I could try.
- "I tell you what. What if you take a bath and relax, I'll cook you dinner, and then we'll watch a movie? Anything you pick."
- "Anything?"- she raised an eyebrow and stared at me so sweetly and concentrated, I nearly stopped breathing. I didn't trust myself with an answer, so I just nodded and looked at her. Her cheeks were blushing, and that made me feel better. Clearly, she was relaxing at home. The color was coming back to her after being hurt. That was always a good sign.
- "Even my favorite chick flick?"- (Y/N) bit her lips and caught my full attention with that simple movement. I nodded again, not really thinking what she meant with "chick flicks." All I could think of were her lips and how incredibly soft they looked.
- "Even Pride and Prejudice?"- she added, and I nodded again.
- "It's an essential piece of literature. Jane Austen was an incredible writer,"- my voice was muffled, and her eyes were shining- "Did you know In 1802, in her late 20s, Austen briefly accepted a proposal from Harris Bigg-Wither, the younger brother of two of her close friends? She rescinded it the following day."
- "Yes, neither her nor her sister ever married"- (Y/N) added, and her eyes moved from mine, traveling around the room- "She believed that a woman shouldn't get married if she wasn't in love. She once advised her niece Fanny Knight that "anything is to be preferred or endured rather than marrying without affection."
Somehow, (Y/N)'s eyes were blurry with sadness all of a sudden. Her words stopped. I was tempted to hold her hands that rested on her lap but stopped myself. I was scared to give too much away, and that she suspected how I felt about her. I didn't want her thinking I was in love with her. Don't get me wrong, I was. I am. And I know I will always love her. But that night on that couch, I was afraid of her rejection and scared she might have stopped being my friend if she ever knew how I really felt about her.
- "Maybe you are right, honey,"- (Y/N) whispered and slowly stood up- "I'll take that bath after all."
- "Watch those stitches"- I quickly stood up too and just nodded, looking at her as she started walking towards her room- "I'll cook dinner meanwhile."
- "Thank you, honey bunny,"- she said and turned around just to cut me a small smile before disappearing into her bedroom.
I made my best effort with dinner. I followed Rossi's instructions to the letter. (Y/N) had a lot of food in her fridge. Unlike me, she actually cooked her own meals. She was right about me and the take-outs. I had never been a great cook, and I trusted my local Thai place with most of my dinners. But that night was different.
Pasta carbonara was pretty good, I must say. (Y/N) opened a bottle of wine, though I told her it was a horrible idea mixing drinking with the pain killers she was prescribed.
- "I am actually not taking them,"- she whispered and took a sip of red.
- "You had a major injure on that shoulder (Y/N)."
- "It's just five stitches, honey. I don't need those pills. I actually didn't even get them,"- she replied. I looked at her in awe, thinking she was way stronger than she even gave herself credit for.
- "In that case, you can have two glasses of wine and extra dessert,"- I stated, and she chuckled.
We ate in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. I guess the two of us were pretty tired that night. It had been a long day, a long case, and though neither of us wanted to deal with it, we knew things could have easily gone wrong.
After eating, I cleaned the dishes and prepared a tray with a cup of herbal tea for (Y/N), a coffee for me, and two bowls of ice cream, and we cuddled on the couch to watch Pride and Prejudice. She whispered most of the lines and argued against Darcy for half of the movie. But by the end, she snuggled closer to me, and I wrapped an arm around her carefully, trying not to get near her shoulder at all. Her head was resting on my chest, and I could feel her sighing with each word that Darcy spoke.
- "What is it with you and this book?"- I asked her suddenly. She huffed and looked at me with a cut, short smile.
- "I don't know, but I've been obsessing with Darcy and Lizy ever since I first read the story. I guess the classic "fools in love" story is my weakness. How couldn't they see how much they loved each other from day one?"
My mouth fell open, but I didn't say a word. She just smiled and turned to the screen again. That was good. I didn't want her to see how flustered I was.
- "Darcy knew he loved her, but he tried to fall out of love with her, and she was completely blinded by her so-called "hate" towards him to deal with her real feelings."- (Y/N) added- "I know that's not a complex and complete study of the story but in a short version of the whole plot... I guess that's what's so endearing and addictive about it. Everyone has been Darcy or Lizzy."
- "I doubt most people can relate with having four sisters and an obsessive nervous mother who keeps forcing you to get married,"- I joked, and (Y/N) giggled.
- "You'd be surprised, honey,"- she sighed and snuggled closer. My hand played with her hair for a few more minutes until the end of the movie.
- "(Y/N)?"- I whispered when we were already in bed. I wore the pajamas I kept in my go bag and crawled into bed with her as soon as she asked me to sleep with her. Ee had done it before, it wasn't weird, and we were best friends.
There was absolutely nothing friendly with how I felt, though. But I had to put all those feelings in a box and hide them deep inside of me 'cos they were no good for our relationship.
- "What happens, Spencer?"
- "I just wanted to tell you... you scared me today,"- she sighed. We were already hugged, but she snuggled closer and kissed my cheek softly.
- "I'm sorry, Spencer. I'll be more careful, I promise."
It was such a simple promise, and I knew though she meant well, the job was always going to get in the way. Our lives were always on the line working at the BAU. And no matter how much we wanted to take care of ourselves, sometimes things were out of our control.
- "Promise me you'll be careful too,"- she whispered, and I leaned over to kiss the top of her head gently.
- "I promise I'll be careful, chipmunk."
- "Will you always come home to me?"- she whispered and sighed, dozing off.
- "Always. I love you so much, (Y/N)"- that last confession fell from my lips before I could even realize what I was saying.
- "I love you too, honey,"- she answered, her voice muffled against my chest.
I stayed still, trying to burn in my memory every second of that moment, 'cos I knew it was going to be one of my most precious memories until my last day.
–
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Next update: June 9th, 2021
#Spencer Reid#Criminal Minds#Spencer Reid fanfic#spencer x reader#Criminal Minds Fanfic#Matthew Gray Gubler#Babymetaldoll writes#fluff#angst#Spencer reid fanfiction#DIWK#Series#Criminal Minds rewrite#Derek Morgan#Penelope Garcia#Aaron Hotchner#David Rossi#jeniffer jareau
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INVISOBANG - Ectoplasmic Educational Employment (Quirky Danny Fenton The Teacher? More Likely Than You Think!)
And the stellar artists that made art for this little fic o’ mine!:
lanaecomics: ART CHECK IT OUT
AND
Trash Shipper; ART CHECK IT OUT
---
Danny isn’t exactly a fresh graduate with a lot of options after Highschool. College wasn’t happening and where the Hell was going to hire him? Mr. Lancer and CasperHigh apparently.
As what? As a teacher. A teacher on the subject of ghosts, because of course everything in Danny’s life will be ghost-related. But maybe ghosts, ghost society at large, and even the goddamn Observants will actually think this is, like, a good? thing. He also, apparently, doesn’t suck at it.
He’s still weird, eccentric, partly dead, and goddamn eighteen though
Prologue: Employing The Unemployable
Danny never really expected to graduate, honest to goodness he did not, yet his chronically-tardy-randomly-disappearing-handing-shit-in-late-or-never ass has managed to get that stupid slip of paper that was nearly basic necessity to get any halfway decent job; which was, frankly, a load of horse crap. Half the shit school taught was useless and most of it he wasn’t going to remember in three days none the less a year from now; or however long it took to find a job that actually required said useless knowledge. Though really? that wasn’t something he actually had to worry about, seeing as there was basically a zero percent chance of him having anything close to something even resembling a ‘normal’ job.
He could work for his folks? Financially lucrative and everything regarding the subject of ghosts has been effectively beaten into his brain by this point. Whether it was due to being around it so often or to save his own hide from his folks' inventions. He could also arguably get a shady as shit job, he was definitely skilled at lying, hiding, sneaking around, playing a role, even stealing and fighting. Plus a subordinate who can shoot energy beams and turn invisible would probably be a mob bosses, or whatever’s, wet dream. But, uh, that was probably not the best idea in the world; especially when Amity didn’t even have mobs and drugs and shit really. And why would they? They had freaking ghosts. Also having hallucinogenics would just be fucking overkill at this point. Plus Vlad already filled the quota for ‘dangerous men in dark suits that smoke cigars and drink whiskey while planning peoples demise or manipulating them like chess pieces".
Getting a job at the Nasty Burger would be easy enough but he’d get fired so fast. Ditto for working at the town’s only hotel or the gas stations or the grocery store or literally anywhere else minimum wage. Honestly, how the fuck do any of those fictional movie heroes have non-heroing related jobs? Excluding the super-rich ones with public identities anyways. Unrealistic. Completely unrealistic.
Sighing and flopping down on his bed, at least his friends didn’t have this issue. Manson’s don’t work and Tuck’s dumbass has hacked every single security and tech company in at least their entire state so they were basically all scrambling to hire his hacker ass. Val has the Nasty Burger -not that she’d be staying there once she graduated- and not to mention having Vlad’s very very deep pockets at her disposal. Speaking of Val though... Danny chuckles up at the ceiling, “honestly it’s funny as Hell that Val got held back but I didn’t. I mean really? How the fuck did that happen?”, shaking his head and laughing quietly a little more. The rest of the Defect Quartet got a good laugh out of that. Sam and Tuck were never at risk of not graduating, it was just Val and his ass that was a worry. Eh whatever. At least Dash’s dumbass got held back too; not seeing that jocks blonde mug at graduation was goddamn euphoric. It truly, truly was.
Well for now, all Danny can really do is wait, enjoy not having to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to go to school, and hope his folks don’t start go getting on his ass to get work that’s ‘normal’ so he has the experience. To be fair, him knowing what it’s like to work at a normal job would normally be a damn good idea, if he wasn’t a literal superhero who also just so happens to be kinda dead. Dead people shouldn’t have to work in his opinion, but life and deaths not fair so whatever. At least his poor abused bed was soft as shit though, that was something.
Danny nearly jumps out of his skin when his mom knocks on the door, jerking him out of his thoughts, “sweetie! It’s Mr. Lancer! He wants to talk to you!”. Oh Ancients fuck, why? Hopefully, graduation comes with a no tack backsies rule or something because that would be just his luck. Danny swings up his legs and gets up off his bed, mildly shouting, “coming!”. Popping open his door while his mom gives him a seriously judgemental ‘you better not have done something stupid’ raised eyebrow as she hands him the phone; him smiling sheepishly as he takes the phone and re-closes his bedroom door.
Eyeballing the phone with just a mild amount of apprehension before putting it to his ear, “yeah? What’s up, Lance?”.
“Hello Daniel, how’s life as a graduate treating you?”.
Danny chuckles, “that depends on whether or not you’re about to tell me I didn't actually graduate and some kind of wild and unlikely mistake popped up”.
Lancer actually laughs lightly at that, “no nothing like that, you graduated fairly, Daniel. Though considering your poor attendance I’m not surprised you’d be suspicious”. Danny grins to himself a little at that but fuck, not his fault man. Not his fault... Technically. “I was actually wondering how job searching is treating you. Working for your parents seems... less than safe even if that seems like the obvious choice for you”.
Danny nods to himself and chuckles, too true there. Smirking a little, “oh if anyone knows how dangerous FentonWorks is, it’s me”. Sometimes he’s honestly amazed no one’s ever called CPS on him or anything. FentonWorks was a death trap waiting to happen, literally; him being walking proof and all that. Shrugging to himself, “and you know I’m not exactly suited for a nine to five, Lance”, and he’s not even going to mention the fact that Vlad would hire him in a heartbeat because that is so not happening no matter how ‘good-ish’ the man was nowadays. Working for him would be a dangerous game no matter how Danny looked at it; for both of them.
“I don’t think I could even imagine you working an office job or as a cashier. But if not nine to five, then how about noon to three?”.
Danny blinks at that, huh? “um what?”, shaking his head a little and blinking again, “short shift there but you know me, how often did I ever stay in class for the full forty minutes, or whatever?”.
“Fifty-five, Daniel, And I’m sure you could stay for an hour given the right encouragement and approach”.
Danny sighs and tilts his head back, “I don’t need money that badly, man, geez”, shaking his head, “what are you even suggesting though?”. Is Lancer seriously offering him a job? Where even? Short as shit hours though, which technically worked well-ish for him. He never has a consistent time slot where no ghosts show up though.
“Well I’m sure your parents have heard about the ecto-ology class the school board decided to pass”, Lancer grumbling seemingly to himself, “long time coming if you ask me, too long”, speaking up a bit, “your class should have had it, not that you needed it”.
Danny snorts, fair point there, “yeah I could probably have taught it better than the damn teacher”, blinking, wait a fucking minute, “Lancer what the fuck. Are you asking me to teach it???”. What the actual shit. Sure, he could do it, technically, but still. The fuck, shaking his head, “don’t you, you know, need schooling to be a teacher? And come on, I am the exact opposite of teacher material, or whatever”. Seriously, the Hell. The Ancients are probably actively mocking him right now. That or Danny’s totally wrong and making a complete ass of himself.
“You’re irresponsible and... eccentric, yes, but you’re intelligent and excitable about your interests; and really, a teacher is someone who’s hyper interested and passionate about their field of education”, Danny can almost hear a smirk in Lancer’s voice, “don’t even try to tell me you’re not passionate about ecto-ology, I’ve overheard more than enough conversations between you and your friends to know otherwise. Though yes, the number of times I’ve heard you mention ghost jail was more than a little concerning. Especially when it sounded like it was personal on-the-inside experience”.
Danny blinks, “Lance, you frighten me. Now I’m seriously wondering even more why the school never called on my folks, or whatever”. This just in, apparently a vice principal was perfectly willing to just ignore a student going to jail in an alternate dimension. Repeatedly.
“As if that would actually help. Your parents are good, if crazy and negligent, people. And I have a feeling you’re perfectly capable of getting into trouble without their involvement. So what do you say? It’s completely within my power to hire you on the spot”.
Danny pulls the phone away from his cheek and makes wild hand gestures at it, again what the fuck. Though yeah, his folks aren’t half bad, excluding the whole ectophobia thing. Scrunching up his face at his phone before returning it to his cheek, “uh thanks? You know, for not getting my folks in shit”, shaking his head and smirking a little, “so you know a lot of the trouble is just me being me and you’re inviting me to once again spend five days a week at one of the local ghost hotspots? Do you like suffering, Lance?”.
That actually gets a laugh out of the vice-principal, “the ghosts certainly keep things interesting but no, hiring you instead of your parents would reduce the chaos. Your parents are far bigger trouble makers than you ever have been”.
“That feels like a challenge”. Danny absolutely smirks to himself over the sigh that comment gets him before continuing, “though yeah, my dad plus the school five days a week sounds like you’d be actively begging the universe to blow up the entire place while simultaneously covering it in green goo and maybe accidentally teleporting it to an alternate dimension. To be fair, dad’s only managed that twice on the house so far”. And his mom still won’t let the man live down either event, understandable. Sighing, his parents being walking collateral damage machines was useful in school since it kept nearly every teacher from calling them in, but now it was mildly biting him in the ass. Though now that he’s thinking about... who else could the school call in? Val was still in school and the school didn’t officially know about her ‘extracurricular activities’ -though Danny would bet an entire model rocket that most of the teachers knew or at least had a very very good guess- so she was out. Then there was the G.I.W. which... just no. Fuck no. Super bad idea. So that just left his ass, and fine, arguably it would be a decent enough job and Lancer wasn’t exactly wrong about Danny knowing his shit and being a bit excitable about ghosts. He couldn’t help it alright? He was raised on it and actually excelled at it. Plus, he was a ghost; knowing was survival. Plus plus, having someone who isn’t ectophobic teach the ghost class would probably be a good idea. Val was better but... she tried to use the Box Ghost’s face as a battering ram because her closet door got stuck last week, ‘nough said. Sighing again, “okay fine, I think you’re inviting disaster but all your other options would also do that”.
Lancer laughs lightly and sips something, probably tea knowing the man, “agreed. So you’ve got the summer to come up with a curriculum, nothing too serious for the first semester so I’m sure you can handle it”. Danny scowls audibly, though fine how much harder could making a teaching thingy be than overthrowing corrupt ghost government/royals? Fuck him entirely. “Don’t worry, I’ll send over some useful tips and tricks, a little guide; because you are right, typically teachers go to school to learn how to teach”.
Danny gives one very sarcastic and deadpanned, “you don’t say”, in response to that. Great, now he’s got homework over summer, just really weird homework that’ll technically include creating homework for other people. Weeee. Fun. Ugh. But hey, maybe this’ll actually not suck. Shaking his head and chuckling a little, “you know, I’m starting to think you might actually like me, Lance”.
Lancer simply laughs faintly at that. “How about we meet up sometime next week and I’ll see how far you’ve gotten and your ideas”.
Danny leans his head back, “ugh fine”, grumbling to himself, “oh Ancients I’m ‘hanging out’ with my old teacher, fuck me”, and hangs up though more than a little sure that Lancer probably heard that last bit.
Danny rubs his eyes in circles after a bit, sighing again, and picks up his cellphone.
thealiveone: guess who got a job offer first? Suck it tuck
PDAxpda : bullshit, where????
thealiveone: lets just say that lance decided I needed to see things from my poor teachers persepectives
PDAxpda: oh god XD poor casperhigh
Nightshade: So youre becoming part of the ststem? Really Danny?
Nightshade: but with fhosts
PDAxpda: ha! You’re becoming your parents!
thealiveone: HEY! AM NOT!
thealiveone: ...kinda
thealiveone: but hey, ghost teachin bout ghoss. Love the irony
Nightshade: 🙄
thealiveone: ancients be happy for a guy why dontcha geez
thealiveone: even if it’s stupid
thealiveone: and I’ll totally wind up having to ditch and be late and shit
PDAxpda: typical you
thealiveone: 😢
Nightshade: fine but at least be a quirky ‘teacher’ and not some lame rule follower ass
thealiveone: me? Not be quirky? Fuckin riiiiiiiight
PDAxpda: *snort*
thealiveone: anywhay
thealiveone: think I should do a bit on ghost hunger just to make lance regret his chocoes?
Nightshade: 🤦🏻♀️
PDAxpda: YES!!!
thealiveone: 😏
Danny had ideas now, and he was about to make them EVERYBODY'S PROBLEM. As he should.
Chapter 2: Cursed From Entry Level
Today was the day, yup it certainly was; Danny side-eyes his ghost-shaped alarm clock. The first Monday of a new school year; which normally shouldn’t mean shit to him since he graduated and all that but fuck his dumbass agreed to turn around and come right back as a goddamn teacher. Why did he do that? That was stupid. Well not really but now that it’s a little past eleven and he has to actually get up, get dressed, and go do the thing that he agreed to do. Fuck. Responsibilities suck. And if anyone’s allowed to say that it’s him, superhero responsibilities kinda outclass all others so suck it. Sighing and flopping an arm over his eyes, had he been smart and bought teacher clothes? No. Or prepared an introduction speech thingy? Also no. Or even bothered to tell literally anyone other than his friends and family that he now worked at CasperHigh? Definitely no, let the fuckers be surprised. He had, however, printed out copies of the syllabus; which fine, was largely because Lancer nagged him about it so much that he did it out of spite. Danny bets being manipulative was totally something taught in teacher school; not that Danny really particularly needed to be taught that… especially when he could just go to Vlad for that kind of ‘tutoring’, not that he actually would. Regardless, he now officially had to get up.
Sighing very loudly into his arm before moving to push himself up and walk over to his closet; did any of his shit qualify as ‘professional’? Haha fuck no. But oh well, screw it. Might as well lean into this ghost teacher thing and the ’Fenton’s are eccentric weirdos’ thing. Time for a ‘I Got A Boo Boo On My Funny Bone Isn’t That Very Humerus?’ sweater and some crust punk pants that are more patches than fabric. He is so not wearing a tie or bow tie though, bandana? Shrugging he nabs up a little alien one that had only a couple small ectoplasm stains, “if anyone asks, lab accident”, and smirks to himself while tying the thing around his neck, shrugging, then heading downstairs for breakfast.
His dad looks up and grins, waving a hand while the other’s still tinkering away on some gun, “morning Danno! Heading off to school?”, tilting his head and chuckling heartily, “or to teach, I should say!”.
Danny rolls his eyes but smiles and chuckles, moving to grab out the cereal, “yup, bet it’s gonna be interesting. My poor fellow teachers”, Danny absolutely smirks at that, because damn they’re gonna hate Lancer for a while once they realise they’re stuck with him for who knows how long. Sure he’ll only be actually there for, like, what an hour or two or so? Eh something like that. He honestly hopes Lancer didn’t tell all the teachers because he absolutely wants to see all of them look at him, do a double-take, and sigh in resigned defeat and pain. Danny can’t help snickering a bit to himself as he eats his food and his dad goes back to tinkering; though with a far bigger grin on his face.
Danny actually manages to get out the door just as his mom’s coming up from the lab, her waving at him erratically, “have a good day at work, sweetie!”, she sounds more than just a little excited to be saying ‘work’ in regards to him. Did make some sense, seeing as he didn’t exactly have any kind of real job opportunities. At least neither of them tried to insist on driving him there, letting him get in a good midday fly instead; one of these days they are seriously going to wonder how the heck he gets places so fast without driving.
-
Landing behind the school in his usual spot Danny takes a few steps back and just kinda stares up at the building for a hot minute, “I don’t know whether this feels nostalgic, daunting, or just surreal”, shaking his head, “well I guess I just better get to it, everyone should be in class right now... right?”, tilting his head as he turns invisible and intangible, stepping through the wall, “how the fuck have I already forgotten the schedule? Ancients”. Thankfully there is, in fact, not a single person and/or spirit in the hallway. He even effectively avoids everyone on his way to the teachers' lounge and successfully uses the key Lancer gave him to get in. Of course, it’s not empty inside though, expected honestly.
Danny pokes his head in and immediately spots Mr. CampBell and grins wickedly, “heeeey”; and the teacher damn near jumps out of his skin before snapping his head around to the door. Mr. CampBell visually recoils, “oh god why are you here?”.
Score! Lancer absolutely did not tell the staff. Danny snickering as he waltzes in, “oh don’t you know? Lancer hired me”. Mr. CampBell turns away and sighs very loudly, Danny absolutely hearing the whispered, “why? I thought William actually liked his coworkers”. Danny only snickers meanly as Lancer walks out from around one of the corners, “we needed an ecto-ology teacher, he’s a perfectly reasonable choice, Joseph”. Huh, so that’s CampBell’s first name. Lancer then turning to Danny and handing him off a coffee cup, gesturing to the corner he just walked out around, “there’s more in the kitchen, since I’m well aware you practically live on the stuff”.
Danny blinks, grins, and moans comically, “oh my Ancients, there’s free coffee in here”.
Lancer quirks an eyebrow faintly at that, “I did tell you”.
Danny shrugs, “eh I thought you were just trying to sweeten the deal for me, Lance”, then taking a sip, “pretty weak shit though”. Lancer quirks his eyebrow further, “it’s free, Daniel”. Danny rolls his eyes, “yeah well, I think I’ll bring in some Deathwish”.
Joseph gives him one very concerned look, “is that an official real coffee or something your crazy parents made?”, he sounds more than a little hesitant for the answer there. Good. Danny smirks, “oh it’s real, and lives up to the name, drinking the cold brew might actually kill you from botulism. The regular coffee is only the world’s strongest stuff though”, then finger-gunning at the man.
Lancer shakes his head as he sits down on the couch, “you concern me some days”, pursing his lips, “most days”, then sips at his coffee. Joseph shakes his head, “I’m just going to head to my classroom”, pointing at Lancer, “you keep that demon child’s classroom consistent, I do not want that ectoplasm stuff getting mixed with Charles’s science nerd stuff”, and throws Danny a scowl before leaving.
Lancer shakes his head before looking to Danny, “your classroom is going to be consistent though, considering I know exactly how often your homework had to be put in biohazard instead of the filing cabinets”. Danny rubs his neck a bit sheepishly at that while Lancer leans forwards, arms on his knees, “do you have everything ready? I could sit in on your first few classes if you’d like”.
Danny snorts, “somehow I think that would just get me mocked, Lance”, smirking, “but that depends on how much you want to leave me unsupervised with a bunch of teens and ectoplasmic substances”.
“You’re... not bringing out ectoplasm on the first day, are you?”.
Danny snickers, “maybe...”. Lancer sighs very loudly but Danny decides to take some amount of pity on the man, “mostly I brought ecto-proofing stuff since I don’t think you want to be replacing stuff a bajillion times. Anyway, can I paint the whiteboard ectophobic green? I mean the ectophobic bit laterally”. Lancer only sighs louder but does nod while putting his face in his hand. Smart man. Danny should probably just go ahead and do that immediately though, the walls and desks and stuff can happen later or fuck he can just make it an assignment because why the fuck not?!? Danny downing the rest of the coffee, clapping his legs, and getting up, “whelp I’mma go do that then”. Lancer speaking up just before he gets to the door, “I will be checking in on you, but feel free to call or ‘text away’ if you need anything”. Danny cringes a little but nods.
Are the hallways empty this time? Nope. Does Danny’s mere presence cause a bunch of whispering as he’s heading to his assigned classroom? Absolutely. Everyone knew who the Fenton’s were, he himself might have techically been a ‘loser weirdo’ but he was also simultaneously popular in the infamous kinda way, especially at school. Most of the comments -that his wonderful ghostly hearing let’s him pick up on easily- are along the lines of ‘guess he didn’t graduate, no surprise there’ or ‘why the fuck’s he here?’, some of the freshmen react with mock horror though so that’s amusing. When Danny gets to his designated room he absolutely spends his before class time painting the board and just throws the rest of his stuff on the provided desk. He is not a tidy person and that is so not gonna change.
He was, however, so not prepared for Val to walk through the door first though. Her and Danny making eye contact, Danny blinking, “‘kay why the fuck would you be here?”. She gives him a dumb look, “hey you yourself, Danny”, then scrunches up her face and sags, “oh my Zone, you are seriously the teacher? You were serious about that? We’re all gonna die”. Danny just smirks while she slumps down in a desk, him scribbling his name on the board quickly; Ancients if anyone calls him ‘Mr. Fenton’ he’ll gag. Speaking of gagging though, putting his class right after lunch was probably not the smartest move on the principal's part. Gives him the perfect excuse to do something weird and just eat ectoplasm or something.
Valerie bangs her head on the desk before looking back up to him, putting her chin in a palm, “though I guess I am kinda curious what the heck you’ll teach with this, you’re always so tightlipped about ghost stuff”.
Danny chuckles and shakes his head a little, glancing back to her before turning around to sit down in his provided chair, not nearly enough burn holes yet to actually feel like his though. He’ll have to fix that, “with you. We don’t exactly see eye to eye on things”. She scoffs at that and rolls her eyes, but other fellow teens are coming in so she doesn’t give him any kind of actual response.
Every single teen does at least a slight pause at seeing Danny in the teacher's chair before taking seats. some say nothing, some swear lightly, others groan, and then there’s goddamn Dash??? Why was that jock taking this class? Better yet, why did it have to be Danny’s luck that Dash would even want to.
“Well if it isn’t Fenturd”. At least half the class snickers or coughs to cover laughs.
Danny glares at the jock, “I can give detentions now, don’t be stupid”, smirking, “or I can just designate you as the ‘helping hand’ and you can handle all the ectoplasmic shit I am absolutely going to bring in”. Dash takes his seat real quick after that while Val’s busy snickering at his expense.
Danny leans back in his chair as the bell goes off, “whelp, guess this is happening now”. Valerie puts her head down and laughs a little, a couple other teens laughing a little themselves while Danny continues, “okay, so obviously I’m the teacher, which honestly? more than a few of you should have seen that one coming”, nodding to himself, “now in case you somehow do not know who I am and also somehow missed Dash being an ass and calling me ‘Fenturd’, I’m Danny Fenton the youngest Fenton, and yeah I’m your teacher because literally no one else is remotely qualified or safe enough to do this”.
More than a few people mutter ‘that's fair’ or something similar. His folks being walking talking time bombs wasn’t exactly a secret and the G.I.W. were honestly more dangerous than the ghosts.
Danny chuckles to himself, digs in his backpack and gets up, “and also, in case you didn’t even bother to look at the class you agreed to take or what was written on the class schedule thingy”, Danny cups the little semi-solid ball of ectoplasm and slaps it on the whiteboard, it spattering across neon green and glowing, “welcome to Ecto-ology! And that!-”, pointing at the green splattered board, “-that’s ectoplasm!”, then shaking a jar of SignalShines -little tiny firefly-like blob ghosts- on the little tray attached to the whiteboard typically used for the markers, “and that’s some ghosts! Some very tiny ghosts”.
Valerie snorts and laughs, muttering, “oh no”, into her hand. Since she obviously figured out that Danny wasn’t going to even attempt at being a ‘normal fucking teacher’. Most of the class snickers and starts laughing after a bit, that or eyeballing the ectoplasm splatter/ghost-filled jar. Danny waving the board and everything off limply, “I ecto-proofed the whiteboard already so don’t bother calling the ecto-hazard line”, then making a point to sound ominous and mildly threatening, “they won’t come”. Which absolutely gets him more laughs and a couple shivers, seeing as he could actually legit pull off scary if he felt like it. Perks of being a ghost and ridiculously highly combative and confrontational.
Danny absolutely hands the syllabus paper stack to Dash to hand out, largely as payback for the name-calling. “So since this year this class is only an optional elective, being a trial run and all that, lets do the whole introduce-yourselves-even-though-I-already-know-who-you-all-are thing with why you took this class and, for funsies, who’s your favourite ghost”. Dash does give him a dirty look, which Danny smirks over, but what follows is people saying their names and giving reasons and shit.
Danny decides to smear around the whiteboard ectoplasm to write down ghost names and tally up how many people say that ghost. Is it mostly Phantom? Yes; even Val votes for him but that’s understandable since she actually got along with Phantom, for the most part, these days. Somehow the Box Ghost earns the second most tallies, Ember’s in third not all that surprising, and two people actually threw a vote Johnny’s way. As for why people took the class?
Well Valerie claims she wants to know more about ghosts and leaves it at that, earning some eye-rolls from the class seeing as everyone knew how she felt about the spookies. Dash took it because a Fenton was teaching, which is information Danny doesn’t know what to do with; what the fuck does that mean? And everyone else? To learn about ghosts (sure), for self-defence (good reason actually. Practical), better than the other electives (fair and probably accurate), easy grade (or so they think... maybe), because it absolutely was going to be chaotic (hundred percent yes). Danny’s content and smirking just a little bit.
Danny sits on the corner of his desk -why not?- and waves a hand around limply, “alright, semi-proper introduction of myself. I’m sure pretty much all of you are damn well aware of FentonWorks and it being basically the only ecto-tech company -besides the ever overpriced Dalvco- and that it is responsible for all the shields and ecto-weapons and all that jazz in town. Surprise surprise, I’ve worked on or outright built a lot of that stuff”, sounding incredibly sarcastic, “truly shocking, I know”, earning him a couple snickers/laughs. “Now you might think that since my folks literally invented the stuff and are some of the only published scientists in the field of ecto-ology that they’re more qualified to do this teacher thing, ignoring the fact that they would probably blow the classroom up or accidentally get everyone teleported into the ghost Zone randomly”, pointing at the class, “not an exaggeration”, before continuing properly, “but guess what? They've never actually explored the Zone or sat down and actually talked to a ghost”, putting a hand to his chest, “I, however, have. So yeah, qualified”; and snaps his fingers a bit dramatically.
James mutters, “not sure that actually means qualified”; and he’s not the only one. Expected, seeing as Danny was not actually qualified to be a teacher obviously.
Danny sticks up a finger, “I have no teacher qualifications though, but Lance decided he just does not care”, getting up and walking to the board, moving around the ectoplasm, “and as for my fav ghostie, you’ve never heard of them”, and scrawls out ‘ClockWork’ on the list of favourite ghosts. Turning back to the class, “ClockWork’s existence is mildly forbidden knowledge, so have fun with-”, Haley shrieking interrupts and most of the class going wide-eyed gets him to turn around and see the very well done drawing of ClockWork looking right at Danny with a glare, there is an ‘I’m flattered, Daniel’ written under it though so... Danny can’t help but bend over wheezing a little, “oh I so saw that coming!”, shaking his head and chuckling, “or something similar at least”. Okay he expected to get smacked over the head with an invisible staff out of nowhere, not a passive-aggressive yet still somehow fond drawing. Straightening up and turning back to the class while whipping at his eye, “y’all signed up for this, remember that”.
Danny sits down and starts going over the syllabus, because that’s what he’s supposed to do, but Jesse interrupts him halfway through, “are we just ignoring everything that just happened with the magic drawing?”. Danny looking at him and smirking, “a good rule of thumb in life is when the literal god of time chastises you, you move on immediately. Just good life advice if you want to keep doing the whole living thing”. Expectedly that gets him a lot of staring. Danny rolls his wrist around, “that Vortex ghost is also a god by the by. Same with UnderGrowth. Pandora’s a minor god technically”, tilting his head, “then there’s the whole mess of Pariah who’s pretty much just a way worse version of Hades”, smirking, “Amity’s seen some big names in the ghost world”.
“What the fuck”.
Danny just snickers at that while Valerie puts her head in her hands and shakes it.
Surprisingly the rest of the class is seemingly going normally, Lancer did stick his head in and eyeball the whiteboard which Danny gave him a ‘what did you expect from me? Honestly’ smirk for, and surprisingly no one decided to ask Danny how the actual fuck he knew the time god if they even believed him on that anyway. But maybe five minutes before class is over, Danny’s ghost sense goes off, because of fucking course, but it just feels like Boxy. So Danny, smirking, checks his phone to use as some kind of excuse for how he knows the Box Ghost’s here, gets up and goes to the window, opening it up, sticking his head out, and shouting, “HEY BOXY!”. That, of course, gets the ghost's attention immediately, who does his scary fingers thing, “YOU DARE DRAW THE ATTENTION OF THE MOST FEARSOME GHOST IN EXISTENCE! THE BOX GHOST!”. Danny just rolls his eyes, points towards the whiteboard in the classroom and shouts back, “WE DID A POLL! YOU'RE THE SECOND MOST FAVOURITE GHOST!”. The Box Ghost stares at him for a bit, goes a little wide-eyed, floats towards the ground, and starts crying. Danny pulls his head back in while cackling, looking back to the class, “congrats, we’ve just made the Box Ghost cry”; which absolutely makes everyone start laughing as the bell goes off. Danny smirking more, “I feel very accomplished with myself”.
Surprisingly most of his freaking students actually wave him goodbye, which is weird as heck but also kinda cool, Dash just scowls at him though; get fucked dick-weed. Val stays behind a bit, expected, and sits on the corner of his desk, “so this is really happening, huh?”.
“Yup. Guess so”, leaning back in his chair a little, “you gonna turn this into a debate club or?”, chuckling, “though I doubt you’ll actually learn a whole lot”. She nods at that, “I could probably teach this myself”, grumbling, “if I wasn’t still stuck as a student”, sighing, “I’m not gonna argue in class though, I know you’re ghost friendly, Danny, that’s gonna show obviously”, shrugging and smirking a little, “I just might need a little bit more proof before I take your word on something”.
“Just for that I’m going to bring in Cujo next class”.
“You wouldn’t”.
Danny smirks, “try me. He’ll really liven up the lesson on classifications of ghost types. Truly he is one of the best examples of an animal ghost”. She sounds downright offended, “then bring in a freaking ectopuss! Not the life-ruining dog!”.
“But everyone loves dogs, Val”, Danny smirks, “besides, ectopusses aren’t proper animal ghosts, they’re a type of blob ghost”. She grumbles a bit incoherently before muttering, “dick”, and leaving for her next class; leaving Danny chuckling.
(And Valerie absolutely spent the next day’s class glaring bloody murder at a tiny green puppy, inspiring slight fear and concern in her classmates; Danny just looked progressively more smug which only made his students more concerned).
-
Before Danny actually managed to leave the school, since he didn’t actually have to be there outside of his one class though something tells him that if the ecto-ology trial run works out then he’ll be stuck ‘teaching’ it two or three times a day. Ugh but also so much potential chaos. Anyway, Lancer catches up to him, sounding just slightly out of breath, “your first teaching experience go well, Daniel?”.
Danny smirks, “brought a ghost to tears, only made one mild ecto-hazard, and possibly annoyed a few thousand ghost cops; so good day actually”. Lancer stares at him a little, “should I be concerned”. Reasonable question.
“Maybe”, Danny chuckles, “to be fair, me teaching people about ghosts was absolutely going to piss off the eyeballs, said eyeballs are some ghost cops, it’s complicated”, chuckling a little though sounding/being a bit serious, “technically I really am the best choice for this, I know more than my folks or the G.I.W. do by miles”, smiling softly and a bit pitying a little, “and I know somethings that the living aren’t exactly supposed to”.
Lancer eyes him and shakes his head slightly, “I know, Daniel. I know”. Danny absolutely quirks an eyebrow at that because what the Hell does Lancer mean by that? So he just gives a simple, “oh?”, for a response; weak as shit but it’ll have to do. Lancer nods, “I’m not as oblivious as I let the students think, so yes I know. Though try to keep your, ghost activities let’s say, outside of the classroom? Don’t bring students into your spat with ghost cops”.
Danny actually coughs, again what the fuck. Shaking his head a little bug-eyed, “again, you scare me, Lance”, shaking his head again, “though no, their problem with me is the fact that I exist, so”, and shrugs; Danny is still a little goddamn thrown here. Lancer sighs, “I guess I should have expected that. And I’ll admit to having some questions about that, but-”, putting a hand on Danny’s shoulder, “-I don’t truly need an answer there”. Danny, for a lack of knowing what else to do, finger guns; Lancer looks less than impressed.
Chapter 3: Ghosts In The Know
It takes a total of three days for a ghost to actually show up during Danny’s designated class time -the Box Ghost and ClockWork’s sudden appearances don’t count- and while Danny’s fairly certain Lancer at least has some kind of guess about the whole Phantom thing Danny’s not going to just go ghost in goddamn class; that would have been dumb when he was a student and it would only be dumber to do as a freaking teacher. At least as a student he didn’t have a class worth of people somewhat staring at him. But hey at least he had just been facing the whiteboard when his breath decided to be all icy fog, that was something; him watching it frost up the board for a couple of seconds and attempting to verbally steamroll right over the random sudden pause in his speaking. He also absolutely can hear Val’s scanner do its little proximity warning beep.
“-but we’re not talking about Cores today even if that’s unique to proper ghosts, so not getting into that right now”. Turning around and putting down the marker, seeing as he can’t exactly just let Skulker go running around. “Now I’ll be right back”, he almost says ‘bathroom’ but as a teacher he doesn’t need to do that shit anymore, he doesn’t have to justify himself to fucking nobody. But just before he gets to the door he points at Val, who’s mouth is slightly open and is definitely absolutely about to ask if she can go, so he smirks, “and no. You can’t”. She looks so confused and a bit freaked out that he can’t help laughing. He does catch James mutter, “did he just pull his bathroom thing? Seriously?”; which just makes Danny laugh to himself even more as he ducks off around a corner to transform.
He doesn’t have to go very far seeing as Skulker was practically directly outside of the area where his classroom was, looking supremely confused and quirking a robotic eyebrow with his arms crossed at Danny, “really, whelp?”. Danny flips him off and shoots him one in the face pretty well immediately, which starts off their standard combat. Skulker shooting off a rocket with a snide and definitely meant to be insulting comment of, “never would have pegged you for teaching or for telling humans our secrets”.
Danny near shouting back with a snort, “secrets my ass! Shove a floppy disk in it!”. That very predictably gets him a more well-aimed rocket to the face.
-
Meanwhile, in the classroom, Jesse glances around, “should we even be surprised?”.
“No but since he’s, you know, the teacher, I’m pretty sure he shouldn’t be playing hooky or whatever”.
Valerie snorts, “oh as if Lancer didn’t know what he was getting into here. Besides Danny was never going to be a normal anything”. Dash smirks and laughs meanly, “no shit, damn freak”. Valerie absolutely throws an eraser at him for that.
“I’m more curious how he predicted Valerie pulling her own bathroom thing”.
“Obvious answer there, he does it so he knows it”.
“Damn, got a point”.
Valerie grumbles and crosses her arms, “and here I thought he’d be totally cool with that”. Emilie laughing, “yeah you’d think, especially if he was going to keep doing it”. Todd pushes himself to stand up with a smirk, “Well I vote we go through his desk, this is Danny after all”; more than a few people look curious, some look cautious though.
Valerie blinking, before smirking and laughing to herself, “yes, go right ahead, do that, see what happens”. That earns even more cautious looks. Valerie knew Danny, had been in his house and room, she knew exactly what kind of state those two places were in. His desk drawers were absolutely boobytrapped. Todd, however, doesn’t give a shit, and just shrugs while moving up to said desk.
Valerie isn’t even slightly surprised when a bunch of snakes-in-a-can pop out of the very first drawer Todd opens, they’re all green because of course they are. Todd mutters a slightly startled, “fuck”, and kicks one of the snakes.
“HA! Suck it, Todd”.
James shakes his head, eyeing the green fake snakes, “I have a feeling that everything in this class is going to be ghost-themed”. Valerie rolls her eyes, “obviously, have you somehow missed the ghost-themed clothing? Or the fact that Danny is, and has always been, a damn pun machine?”. Over half the class groans or chuckles. Valerie rolling her hand and leaning back, “pretty sure he was wearing a pair of Sam’s platforms today, the ones with little plastic green ghosts shaking around inside”. Dash mutters almost absently, “huh, so that’s why he seems taller today”.
“Dash... why are you noticing his freaking height”.
“Shut up, Jesse. I can’t physically shove him in lockers anymore but I sure as shit can imagine it”.
Valerie sighs very loudly at that, but at least Dash wasn’t quite stupid enough to try bullying a teacher. Even if that teacher was Danny and the same age as him. Which, talk about wild. She honestly did not believe Danny for a second when he said he would be teaching at CasperHigh and yet here he was. Teaching. It was definitely weird, but at least nothing had blown up yet. Hopefully Phantom went and dealt with Skulker though, she’d think Danny would be one who let people leave whenever, guess not. Her scowling a little over that. Todd opening up another drawer and a black and white ghost popping their head out jerks her right out of her head though. Todd falling on his ass and scrambling back, “holy shit! What the fuck!”.
James blinks and wheezes, standing up like basically everyone else, “Danny had a whole ass ghost in his desk, what?!?”. Said ghost floats up, looks around, and waves; while the entire class just stands there, many with ecto-pistols drawn at this point.
“I’m picking up a lot of hostility here, busters”.
Todd grumbles, “you have got to be shitting me”. The ghost tilts their head, “I don’t think Phantom would like that very much. Totally not tubular”. Valerie facepalms and lowers her small blaster, “you’re that old ghost that haunts one of Danny’s old lockers, aren’t you”. The ghost gives her a thumbs up, “that’s the dealio!”.
“... and why were you just in his desk drawer?”.
The ghost crosses their skinny arms and huffs, “when I picked up on the Ha-Danny being here again I had to make sure that buster wasn’t up to his bully ways again”. Dash actually burst out laughing and drops back into his seat at that, “Fenton?!? A bully?!? Man what are you smoking?!?”; which the ghost gives him a very strange look for.
“Poindexter, by the Ancients, how many times do I have to tell you that I wasn’t being a bully, I was getting back at one. Geez”. The entire class goes still and snaps their heads around to Danny, who’s just casually walking in. Dash muttering, “I knew that twerp was the one screwing with me”.
Poindexter rolls his eyes, “like I believe that, buster. Someone would have to be a real dummy to do that to you”. Danny very obviously glares at the ghost, “I said that Dash is a bully, not that he’s smart”. Dash scowls very audibly, “I’ll make you eat those words, Fentit”. Danny instantly holds up a pink detention slip and smirks, while Dash very obviously holds back shouting expletives at him. The ghost just looks confused. Danny turning to the ghost, having to look up a little as he takes his seat, “like I said, not smart”. Dash just scowls while Danny continues speaking but while looking at the class instead of the ghost, “so where were we?”.
Amber blinks, “are we just ignoring the ghost that popped out of your desk?”; while everyone starts sitting back down slowly.
Danny quirking an eyebrow at the ghost, “why, man?”. While Amber tosses up her hands and sits back down too.
“I was looking for anything suspicious. Never know with you”.
Emilie chuckles to herself, “I like how ghosts apparently find him as suspicious as people do”. Earning her a few nods.
Dash rolls his eyes, “oh like what, ghost-themed pencils? A change of underwear in case his own class scares him?”. Danny starting to hold up another pink slip shuts the jock up real quick. Poindexter looks genuinely surprised and turns to Danny, “hold the phone, you sayin’ that rumour that everyone thinks you’re afraid of ghosts is actually the real deal???”. Danny just sighs, “it was a very good and effective way out of my folks trying to make a hunter of me”. While practically half the class shouts, “THAT WAS FAKE!”, including one stunned Dash who had thought he was being so smart and cruel by taking full advantage of Danny’s ‘fear’.
Danny chuckles and looks around, “yup. Sorry not sorry”. Lancer picks that very moment to stick his head in, looking at the ghost then Danny, “Daniel...”.
Danny sighs and waves him off, “I know, it’s just Poindexter though. He’s here somewhere in the school almost every day and has been for, like, decades. Longer than I’ve been alive at least. He’s just seldom visible. Here’s his haunt”. Lancer sighs, “very well”, and just leaves; clearly not wanting to deal with all of that.
James blinks, “so, uh, is he going to stay or? And how the heck did you, but not the school, know about him?”. Poindexter huffs, crosses his arms, and seemingly vanishes; Danny, however, watches the transparent teen ghost just sort of float to the back of the class while making ‘I’ve got my eyes on you’ finger motions at Danny. Danny rolling his eyes while responding, “maybe, maybe not. And you know that locker that’s rumoured to be haunted that I was randomly assigned to for a while? Yeah that’s totally true. We’ll talk about lair cores later. There was also a mild body-swapping incident”.
“Excuse me?”.
Danny points at James, “I have been through some shit, man. Body swapping with a ghost was less weird and more annoying though”. The entire class just stares at him which he takes as a chance to get back to the lesson plan. “So as I was saying...”.
-
Valerie winds up approaching him after the bell, “you know one of these days I’m going to figure out what the Zone that nickname that ghosts have for you is”. Danny quirks an eyebrow, because of course Poindexter probably nearly called him ‘the halfa’ since that’s what Poindexter literally always called him. Smirking at her, “I don’t doubt that, Val. Just like someday you’ll be fully honest about your, ahem, extracurricular activities”, and chuckles while she rolls her eyes. Her muttering, “oh whatever. Anyway, wanna go to a movie after school or are you too busy with teacher duties”.
Danny huffs, “as if. I only do one class you know, so sure why not”. Lancer picks that moment to stick his head in again, “actually you need to finalise that first assignment, also you do realise that as a teacher you are supposed to watch your language?”.
Danny gives an awkward, “uuuuhhhhh”, before scrunching up his face in a pout, leaning back in his chair dramatically, and whining loudly while Val laughs at him, “do I haaaaavvvvveeee toooooo?”. Lancer’s sigh is a pained one.
(Danny absolutely starts out the next class with, “so one of you s̴͜͝h̴i̶t̡̨͡s snitched on me so prepare for some slight language changes, b͘͘itc͜͝he͢͝ş̛”. Which earned a mixture of confused looks, laughs, and a couple glares at Todd, Dash, and Brittney; who were the most likely suspects. And really no one was actually surprised in the slightest that Danny seemingly knew GhostSpeak, it just tracked honestly).
---
Was Danny looking forward to this first assignment thingy? Haha fuck no. He’s just going to assume marking is Hell but he already established that he wasn’t the kind of sick freak that makes the very first assignment the one required oral presentation or some shitty quiz; and fine he already put down ‘research assignment on an unusual ghost theory you have’ in the syllabus but what the actual crap was he supposed to do for the guild lines of this to avoid getting the kind of ridiculous shit that he himself would write. Because as funny as getting twenty-odd papers about Plasmius’s clear attempts at making up for his fragile masculinity or about Phantom’s fashion choices would be, Danny’d rather not. Well he could just be like: y’all can either do all your papers on Phantom or none, vote now. At least then he would either be prepared to read a bunch of wild shit about himself or go in knowing he won’t have to read any about himself.
Rolling over in bed and sighing, “well I guess I could just limited the second option to known frequently seen ghosts?”, blinking, “oh and none can be on Boxy because I see too much of that problem man as it is”. Speaking of problems, he also has to figure out how he’s going to spend an hour getting stared at by most of his students (fuck that was still super weird) sans an entire hand; because sure the rest of his arm will have reformed by noon, but the hand will still an issue. Too bad he didn’t manage to find the chopped-off limb before it dissipated into free-floating ectoplasm. While he does appreciate that no one’s going to just stumble across his severed limb, getting it back would have been way better. Eh fuck it, super long sleeves day it is, Jazz did attempt at dark humour once and gifted him a straightjacket so what the heck time to look like a crazy person the legit way.
Of course it’s currently three am so he is not getting dressed right now, not a chance.
-
Does he get to fall back asleep and actually stay asleep till eleven or so? No, when does he ever? Fuck ghosts and their lack of caring about his shitty sleep schedule. It’s now five am, his ghost sense has got him mostly shivering awake, and his blankets don’t even qualify as actually still on his bed. Him letting himself slump onto the floor while transforming and starting to float up in the air before only slightly lazily flying out his window. If anyone asks about his eye-bags, he bought them off the black market. Does that make sense? Not really no. Does he care? Also no.
Him floating up on Ember smashing up a street sign with her guitar, pinching his nose while otherwise hanging limply in the air, “Ember, why?”. He’s too tired for this shit, Ancients.
“Anarchy”. She hits the sign again.
Danny sighs, “well could you go be ‘anarchy’ when said anarchy doesn’t result in my sleep becoming anarchy too? I really don’t feel like having the R.E.M. sleep government centres of my brain overthrown today”. That actually gets her to pause and look up at him, smirking and snickering after a bit, “you do look like shit”, then very pointedly looking to his half reformed arm; hey at least he had a proper elbow again! Shove a dick in it, goddamn. He absolutely flips her off before shooting her guitar, “go home, Ember. I have class”.
She gives him a pitying look like an absolute ass, “oh did they not let you graduate from that indoctrinating soul-crushing suffering?”, then grinning almost manically, “let’s burn it down!”.
“Jesus Ancients no, I work there”.
“Oh so you’ve become a cog in the machine for the man”.
Danny sighs very loudly, “okay what capitalist crawled up your ass and died, fuck. And if anything my mere presence is causing chaos”, chuckling hollowly, “one of the other teachers drank my coffee accidentally and was absolutely losing their beans half the day. And only one person’s gotten a mild case of ecto-poisoning”, sighing, “Ancients, Todd’s a dumbass. I mean-”, gesturing vaguely with his intact hand, “-I knew that, but next time he wants to ‘prove he can bend steel’ with a bar of ectoplasm I’m just going to let him break his arm and get full-blown contamination”.
Ember shakes her head, “I say let him. And so you are teaching humans ghost stuff”. Danny just shrugs kinda noncommittally at that. She smirks, “teaching death is more punk rock I guess, babypop”, while attempting to give him a boot kick to the face since she apparently couldn’t leave without causing him some level of bodily harm. He, of course, grabs her ankle and just flips her over him. Hand-to-hand combat was not her strong suit. She does successfully get him one with a laser drumstick though. Which hooray for a burnt hip. Fun. At least he knows she’ll just head back to her lair now, no real need for the capture and release thing; most ghosts pretty firmly decided they’d rather just go home after a Phantom ass beat down than getting sucked into the thermos, so they left immediately. Others were fine to just leave to their business. Some were true bad time problems. And then there was the Box Ghost... fucking moron. Ancients he is going the fuck back to bed.
-
Annnnnndddd now he’s late. Fuck. It’s a little past noon. FUCK. He sighs very loudly while practically scrambling out of bed, getting tangled in the sheets, phasing through the sheets when he remembers he can do shit like that, grabbing random ass shit from his closet and phasing that on. Quick mirror check... and yup, he looks like a dumbass and his sweaters backwards. At least he actually grabbed a sweater, he, however, did not grab pants. But fuck it, shorts it is. Shorts that are shorter on one side than the other because they got burnt and said burn marks are super noticeable on the neon green fabric.
He’s hopping out his window when he tries to grab the frame and just face-plants instead because, fuck, right, no goddamn hand dumbass. Quickly scrambling back and phasing off his sweater while also tripping backwards over the first aid kit he left haphazardly on the floor like a complete lazy idiot. Landing on his floor with an oof and sighing very loudly, just laying there half-naked for a couple of seconds, “why me?”. When he does get up he successfully grabs that straightjacket and makes it out the window, flying off to school while pulling it on.
Danny doesn’t even bother with walking into school, just smacks into the side of the building below the window to his classroom -honestly him having his own classroom still feels slightly surreal but he’s kinda used to it at this point. At least a little anyways- and a quick glance around plus transforming back human and visible and he knows he’s good, his singular hand holding onto the windowsill. Is he cheating by still defying gravity a little? Yes. But one Danny Fenton absolutely does not feel like falling to the ground and making an ass of himself yet again today. Huffing he lifts himself up, head-butts open the window -which can only open both ways because it’s an added safety feature in case a student got phased outside and was trying to get back inside through a closed window. His folks really did think of everything. Well almost everything- and scrambles in while his class freaks out a little. A couple fellow teens even scream/shriek and Ashley -who sits near the windows- actually fell out of her desk. Danny doesn’t even need to look up to hear Val’s extremely audible sigh though.
“What the fuck, Fenton?”.
“Danny!?!”.
“What the Hell?!?”.
“FUCK! Oh Zone thank everything, I thought he was a ghost for a second”.
“You’re late”.
“We’re on the second story, how the Hell did you get up here? And wait, did you head butt a window?? WHY ARE YOU WEARING A STRAIGHTJACKET??
“What????”.
“It’s a look though...”.
“Okay Danny being late isn’t all that weird, but you’d think... Like this is exactly why this class is after noon”.
“Is there a reason your top half and bottom half look like they came from two totally different fashion lines?”.
“Why couldn’t you have been five minutes later? We could have left then”.
“Are you okay?”.
“Danny.... what did you do?”.
“Wait, were you the thump on the wall just now?”.
Danny shuffles to stand up straight and brushes himself off with the long floppy arm-sleeves of the straightjacket, waltzing to the front of the classroom. Fuck he forgot his backpack. Damn. Guess he’ll just have to talk about the assignment instead of handing out the sheet things. Oh well. Turning to the class and gesturing them to shut up by waving his hand around which really just makes the sleeve flap around ridiculously.
Pretty much the entire class bursts out laughing at him after a couple seconds of silence.
Danny sighing, “okay okay, yes I’m late, but class or whatever begins now. Also y’all need to vote on whether your research c̷͝r͟a͘p҉͜ will all be on Phantom or none will be on Phantom. It’s all or nothing, you mǫ͡t̨͘h̴̛e͠r̷͞f̸u̴c̕k̨e͠r͢s̴”. That earns both groans and slight laughs, eh Danny’s cool with that.
Val doesn’t even give him a chance to ask for hand voting when she blinks down at his feet, “Danny... how did you even manage that???”. Danny quirking an eyebrow, “huh?”, then looking down... looking down at his laced-up socks. Fucking damnit. He thought he had phased on shoes, even laced them up; guess he just phased random shoelaces tying around threw his goddamn socks and laced up the socks. Danny sighs and slumps a little, “well okay then, guess today’s a no shoes kinda day”, and sighs again before looking up and shrugging at Val, who huffs disbelievingly at him. Fair.
Todd jerks up his hand, “can we go shoeless too then? Otherwise, unfair”. Danny sighs and waves him off, “go nuts, f̵̧͢uc̴̨ķ̴̕ if I care today”. That earns him a round of blinking and snickering; some people do actually take him up on his apathy and take off their shoes. Dash snapping, “not that I care, but what the Hell happened to you?”. Danny smirks at him, “I decide your grade so you kinda have to care”, and sticks his tongue out him like a petulant brat purely because he can. “I got hit in the head by an ectoplasmicly infused guitar at five am and didn’t regain consciousness till-”, glancing at the clock, “-however many minutes ago”.
Jesse blinks, “I can’t tell if that’s a creative lie... or not”. Danny finger guns before turning to the board and scribbling on it, “alright, voting hand time. Left for no Phantom, right for all Phantom...”.
Annnnnnnd, glancing around at the hands, looks like he’s receiving twenty-odd papers on himself. Wonderful. Whelp hopefully this’ll at least be interesting and mildly creative. Danny nodding with his hand and stump wrist on his hips at the board then turning around to face everyone with a huff, “alright then, now if anyone sends their research to the G.I.W. you automatically fail. I don’t want them getting any more funny ideas and having Phantom around is at least marginally a good thing. Honestly”. Earning him some snickers.
“Just marginally? He’s better than your parents”.
Danny glares at Todd, “hush, y͜ou͟҉ ̵s͞a̸l̴ţ͠y͘̕ ̢w̡͞et̷͡ ̡͠n͟͟ơ̢͝o͏d̡҉le”. Putting his intact hand back on his hips, “my folks aside, assignments. It’s on the syllabus and really you already know what to do so yeah. I’ll give you guys the papers for it tomorrow because, like my shoes apparently, I forgot them”. More than one teen gives him a really weird look and James mutters, “honestly? I think I prefer this, uh, ‘teaching’ style? He’s just so done”.
“More like one of us”.
“He is literally my age, he is one of us”.
“Oh yeah”.
Danny glances up at the ceiling, sighs, and talks slightly louder than necessary, “as for actual lesson plans, more ghost history slash lore, yay-”.
“At least he didn’t forget where he left off”.
Danny points at Todd, because come on man, seriously, “I will steal all your number two pencils, Todd”. James blinking, “why does that work as a legit threat?”. Danny points at him, “because then the scantrons will f̵̨̢u̵c̨͜͡k̶̵ up so he can’t take tests and he’ll have to ask the teacher for one embarrassing himself because no fellow teen would give him theirs because h͘e ̸s̨͢u̸̧̡c̷̡ks̕͠”.
“The fact that that is even slightly thought out and remotely realistic is actually worse”.
Dash actually looks legit slightly concerned and weirded out. Maybe he finally realised Danny’s kinda a whole ass nightmare when he feels like it. That’s without adding in the whole half-ghost clusterfuck he’s got going on.
-
Danny gets about halfway through his class when Charles just straight up opens the door. Danny should booby trap that sometime. “Okay I can’t believe I’m asking you this but tell me you have a spare stapler... what am I looking at here?”.
Danny had been gesturing a bit exaggeratedly at the whiteboard that had a doodle of a couple of Ancients on it, him dropping his arms and turning to the science teacher, “what, in any world, would make you think I have a spare of anything other than coffee, guns, thermoses, and maybe food; though the last one may or may not be inedible. Also, today was a crazy person day so yes this is, in fact, a straightjacket”. The fellow teacher smirks, “get that from the asylum you stayed at?”. Danny rolls his eyes, “oh har har, dickweed”, and chuckles; Charles was one of the teachers he got on better with even if the guy had zero sense of boundaries and sticks his nose in just about anything he found interesting, and Danny was basically a walking ball of interesting. Danny snaps his fingers and turns to the class, “oh I have actually been to an asylum before though”.
Ashley coughs, “Danny, you could make a living off of surprising people with random life bits. Get a tv show”.
Danny’s ghost sense goes off at the exact moment that an echoing voice says, “oh I quite agree”, from the direction of the window.
Charles goes wide-eyed and blurts out, “wellsinceyouclearlydon’thaveastaplerI’mgoingtogofindonebye”, and promptly shuts the door with a slam. Danny, meanwhile, snaps his head to the window and watches the Ghost Writer cross his legs while floating a bit above the windowsill. Danny blinks, “what and why”, and sounding stern enough to make a couple students jump/jerk in their seats. Valerie, Emilie, and a few others have weapons drawn already; expected and good really. The Ghost Writer rolls his eyes faintly and tosses his scarf over one shoulder dramatically while Danny slowly scoots over to his desk, not that the Ghost Writer seems to care, pursing his lips at Danny, “curious. Here I thought you had a hatred for literature and education”.
Danny rolls his eyes harshly, “no. Just Christmas”, pooping open one of the drawers. The class just watching tensely in the background.
“Christmas books”.
Danny rolls his eyes again, “Ancients fuck, man”, smirking a little, “here have some-”, jerking up an orange -that he, yes, had in his desk purely to spite this very specific ghost even though the Ghost Writer basically never came to the Mortal Realm- and stabbing it with his nails to make its juices leak down his hand/arm and makes the room smell noticeably citrusy, “-vitamin C for cannonball so you can shoot on outta here”. Valerie side-eyes Danny with a slightly dumbfounded look before dropping her arms, and her gun, down and turning to him, “seriously?”. Danny just shrugs loosely and bites a chunk out of the orange earning a lot of disgusted looks. Fair, he hadn’t exactly peeled off the skin or anything. But hey, the Ghost Writer looks thoroughly and deeply offended; so that’s a point for Danny.
The Ghost Writer audibly sighs, pushes up his glasses, and closes his eyes for a second before speaking up, “as I’m sure you know, The GhostWriters Manor has a fairly high and active patronage”, glaring a little, “regardless of men of a certain sort being unwelcome“.
Brittney leans over to Ashley, who’s shaking and a little stiff, “oooo I wonder what the heck Danny did. Boy’s banned from a library”. Dash scoffs weakly and a little wide-eyed, “o-oh please, getting banned from a library is, ah, is weak sauce”. Todd smirking at the jock, “smooooth”; and gets flipped off for the comment.
Danny shrugs and bites the orange with emphasis, speaking through a mouthful, “‘ell maye searaint ‘en ould ave ettr tases”, and swallows harshly. The Ghost Writer scowls. Danny quirking an eyebrow after a bit, “soooo?”. Making the ghost shake his head and mutter, “I truly can’t believe this”, then looking to Danny, “as a man of the written word there is a level of... respect, even begrudging respect, for those that teach it”, digging into his satchel and pulling out a card, “you may have a card again”; the Ghost Writer sounds almost physically pained to be saying that. Which of course means Danny absolutely has to bug the guy and the windows being phase-proof gives Danny ample time to do so.
Danny smirks, “and here I thought I was never even granted one in the first place”, and dramatically puts a hand to his chest, sounding overly sarcastic, “iMaGiNe HoW bLeSsEd I mUsT fEeL tO bE rEcEiViNg SuCh A tRuLy SpLeNdId GiFt SuCh As ThIs”, sauntering over in the most fruity and dramatic way he possibly can, popping open the window seductively, and snatching away the card, “ThAnKs BaBe”, and winks like an absolute ass.
Emilie collapses to the floor and starts wheeze laughing.
The Ghost Writer jerks away from him, scowls, and adjusts his glasses while trying to compose himself. Huffing a little, “consider the libraries resources yours, do be at least slightly decent and use them educationally”, the vanishing from sight; Danny following the flying off transparent ghost with his eyes before pulling his front half back into his classroom fully. Huh. Will he actually take up the ghosts offer? Might actually be a good idea also, fuck the gov he now has even more access to information they could only ever salivate over in dreamland.
Turning back to the class, “whelp, that happened”, humming and tilting his head, “too bad I definitely can’t get approval for an impromptu field trip to a ghost library”.
Valerie throws up her hands, slumps back into her desk, shoves her gun back into her bag, and glares at Danny. Todd bursts out laughing while Jesse blinks, “did that just happen?”. Dash screws up his face a little, “the Hell you little wimp?”. Danny’s just going to assume the guy never realised that Danny kinda had a pair of brass balls.
Danny smirks at the class, smacking the whiteboard, “I’m tougher than you, deal with it or eat a pink slip. Now class is basically over so I’m not even going to bother continuing with this, but in case any of y’all are wondering The Ghost Writer gains power from the influence, importance, and popularity of any form of writing that was written by a ghostwriter or anonymously. Totally in charge of basically the biggest library in the Zone, which yes I was banned from apparently due to blowing up a book”. Todd scoffs at that and rolls his eyes, clearly trying to seem unimpressed.
Ashley sticks up a hand and speaks anyway, “did you really not know you were banned?”. Danny waves her off with his handless arm, okay he’s got a palm again but stilll, “do you know just how many places have banned me or my entire family”, tilting his head, “or just my dad at least”, which earns him some chucking before the bell goes off and he starts shooing everyone out loosely. Emilie goes right up to his desk though, grinning almost meanly, “tell me you are going to bring ghost books”. Valerie goes wide-eyed a little and glares at the back of Emilie’s head, then at Danny when he smirks and shrugs, “oh I don’t see why not, heck let’s make that the reading requirement. Read a book written by ghosts”. Val makes a series of faces, likely torn between curiosity and being completely done with his general shit. Emile smirks and fist bumps before leaving.
Danny quirking an eyebrow at Valerie getting her to finally speak up, “you are unbelievable, Danny”, shaking her head and walking closer, “so about this assignment thing-”.
Danny groans dramatically, “oh Ancients, way to make me feel like a teacher”. She smacks him over the head for that, “better?”. Danny just smirks and nods curtly, giving a cheery, “yup”. Valerie rolls her eyes, “anyway, I know it’s been decided everyone’s doing Phantom-”, rolling her eyes a little, “-but could I maybe do mine on the other Phantom”, and stares at him.
Oh she is so totally trying to gauge if he knows shit, not that that was remotely subtle. Eyeing her a little, “if you don’t save that kind of subject to your computer then sure, I guess I didn’t specify Danny with a y Phantom. But-”, squinting just a little, “-if, say, the G.I.W. manage to hack things and find out some things that might be dangerous”. Valerie blinks before shaking her head in disbelief, “how the Zone”, sighing, “I’m pretty good with tech these days, but yeah okay”, and gives him a bit of a weird look before rushing off at the warning bell.
---
Does Danny decide to take up the Ghost Writers offer? Yes, yes he does. Barging in and walking around like he owns the place, the Ghost Writer blatantly massaging his temples while Danny walks up to the guys little counter thingy, “so got any twelve odd copies of the same fiction book? That a bunch of teens who may or may not wreck them can have? Also could totally use some lore and historical books, you know, for reasons”.
The Ghost Writer sighs, pours himself some tea, gets up and nods, “yes, do attempt to see them returned though”.
“I make no promises”.
That gets him another sigh but Danny follows the ghost around anyway. The Ghost Writer winds up getting a bit excited and gives him an honestly excessive amount of books at the end of the day. Danny also learns that apparently it was Ember who was a blabbermouth and told the writing ghost when she was checking out, or something, a musician's after-death memoir. Figures a singer couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
-
The Ghost Writer patting the stack almost affectionately, “a happy book is a read book and I have a lot here, so enjoy”, and gives Danny a ‘come back’ look that’s just slightly threatening which Danny’s just going to assume is because the guy had vaguely forgotten who he’s talking to, that or the Ghost Writer hated him a lot less than he thought. The ghost holding up a finger, “ah yes, since you were proactive and showed at least some genuine care for the craft, here”, and plops a little green writing quill down on the stack. Danny is oddly genuinely touched.
Danny blushing and rubbing his neck a bit, “uh, appreciated?”. This honestly said more than it seemed, sure they clearly were bickering and were not exactly fond of each other but it seemed that the Ghost Writer was yet another once-antagonistic ghost that was now at least somewhat on team Phantom’s side.
“Yes, now if you’re done loitering”, the Ghost Writer makes shooing motions at Danny, “be on your way”. Danny rolls his eyes but does, in fact, leave... with an unnecessary amount of books in tow.
Chapter 4: An Education In Fashion
So apparently someone went and threw a little complaint about Danny’s straightjacket stunt, him wearing a near-floor-length parka the next day with shorts probably didn’t help though, and now Danny’s at the mall for reasons other than having fun or fighting some ghost. How does Danny know someone complained? Well a little conversation with Lancer that went a little something like this: “Daniel, I know the school’s a little... lax, but we do actually have a dress code. Which again, you are supposed to actually be marginally following unless it’s for safety reasons”. Which he had of course responded to with, “technically a straightjacket is a restraining device sooooo...”, which got him glared at. In short, Danny now had to buy new clothing. New clothing meant for teaching, which was weird as fuck.
Was he doing this alone? Zone no! He had absolutely recruited Sam and Tuck to wander around with him. Which, speaking of...
“Sup, dude!”.
Danny grins to himself before turning to his friends, “hey, Tuck man”, looking to Sam and nodding, “look at you slumming it like a mall goth”. Sam rolls her eyes at him and flips him off aggressively. Tuck smacks his arm, “more like look at you actually buying clothing new instead of digging through used stores for cheap shit. What? Did Casperhigh finally develop standards?”, and smirks.
Sam scowls at the techno-geek, “it’s better that he doesn’t support corporate-run stores and name brand garbage. What with all the slave labour, animal abuse, and terrible worker treatment”. Danny looks down very pointedly at her plaid T.U.K creepers that are 100% not bought from a used store; Sam shoves him, making him stagger a little with a laugh.
Him looking to Tucker, “Lance asked kinda nice-ishly so I’m being nice to the poor man”, smirking, “and maybe this’ll make up for me sorta kinda being responsible for one of the water fountains spewing out black water for a bit there”. Both of them stare at him for a bit before laughing, Tucker patting his back after a bit with a smile, “they hired you, what did they expect”.
Danny sticks his arms out exaggeratedly while the trio start walking, “I keep telling them that!”. Sam shaking her head with a smile, “well trying to appease the man or not, don’t you dare say we’re suit shopping”. Danny screwing his face up at her before gesturing around, “do you see Vladdie around? Because I fucking guarantee you he’d have some kind of sensor or informant for if I so much as stepped into a suit store or tailor, and he’d immediately show up to at least stare at my choices judgingly or offer to pay by flashing around a fancy credit card”. Tucker snorting, “that shouldn’t feel as accurate as it does”; making everyone laugh as they head into one of the ‘teen’ oriented stores. Danny was buying new passable clothing, not high-class ‘adult’ clothing.
The first thing Danny sees is bandanas, MORE FUCKING BANDANAS! Yes, he’s so here for this. Well not this specifically but you know. He grabs a new alien one, one that looks like a white dragons mouth (Tuck muttered something about seeing one just like that at a furry con which really just encouraged Danny to take it but with a shit-eating grin), two ghost ones because of course and if one of them is pink and glittery and has sequins then that’s his business and no one else’s shut up, another that looks like bloody tie-dye, and one that reads ‘SATAN just do it’ with a Nike checkmark; the last one might just get him in trouble but he’s pretty sure just the existence of his class/him already pisses off Christianity so why not go for a home run.
Sam eyes the SATAN bandana as she walks back over from another store, her smirking, “nice. Anyway, shoes”, and shoves a bag at him. Danny quirking an eyebrow while digging inside and chuckling at the white doc martins, snorting, “I thought I was the only one here supposed to be making jokes about my suit while also blatantly hinting at my shit”.
Sam scowls and crosses her arms, “they’re not sneakers and they’re mildly ‘professional’, deal with it”. Danny just chuckles as he pays for his bandanas and the dress-shirt with frowning depressed bananas all over it that Tuck threw at him.
Walking out and looking around before all three share a Look, breaking out in matching grins and speaking in unison, “HotTopic”, and then march off with determination written across their faces; which yes, gets them actively avoided by everyone who knew who they were, which was basically all of Amity these days.
Danny’s got crushed velvet straight cut pants that marginally resemble dress pants -Lancer will so not let him get away with freezer burnt crust pants or grey sweat pants at an assembly or whatever- folded over an arm while he’s shoving around some of the angsty and anime-themed hoodies when Kitty finally decides to approach him. Did he know she was here? Yes, obviously. Be weird and concerning if he didn’t. But she was generally well behaved so he let her be. The biggest risk her and Johnny usually posed was traffic violations. So not his problem.
Anyway, Kitty pokes the pants, quirks an eyebrow and hums a little, “nice choice there, Danny”, humming a little more before grabbing up a hoodie with a plague doctor on it and the words ‘there is no cure only infection, and I’m patient zero’, and shoving it at him, “that’s more your style”.
Danny blinks, “I see you’re trying to cut me with edge now, geez. But technically-”, holding up a finger from his unoccupied hand, “-anything that sheds ectoplasm is ‘contagious’ sooooooo”, and rolls his wrist. She gives him a pouty look, “I don’t know what I expected”.
Sam walks up, eyes the punk ghost before looking to Danny, “you’re getting a dress tailcoat, it says ‘dead boy’ on it”; making Danny wheeze a little and nod with a stupid grin. Kitty smiles a little bit before waving the goth off and starts walking away, “looks like you’ve already got a lady friend clinging around so I’ll be going”. Sam chucks a necklace at her while Danny coughs.
Regardless he gets the sweater because now he kinda has to. The tailcoat too though, because of course.
-
Sam and Tuck already have their supersized order of fries and respective meat and veggie burgers while Danny’s ordering his go-to coffee from his go-to coffee shop, gotta get in that dose of judgemental and mildly fearful staring. But Charles -yes Charles, not Lancer. Why the fuck?- winds up calling and Danny picks up feeling just mildly confused and curious, “uh, why? Also, how?”.
“So Danny, you’re an adult, a perfectly responsible adult-”. That tone is ominous as fuck, damnit. “-a responsible adult who does absolutely know how to safely handle ectoplasm-”. Oh Ancients.
Danny cuts him off, “what did you do to my classroom?”.
“Wh-what? I- nothing. Better question is what and why did you, honestly really, have a bomb-rigged drawer? Also, how does someone... convince a chunk of ectoplasm to get out of your closet and stop eating your ties? I mean, I think it might have eyes but I might also be wrong and it keeps squirming away from the microscope, which why would it do that?”.
Danny gives a pained smile, looks to the barista who’s now holding his venti cup filled with around thirty espresso shots, Danny sighing, “if I give you a fifty, could I convince you to add five more to that?”.
“What?”. Danny absolutely ignores Charles.
The barista looks down at the cup like she’s debating if potential manslaughter due to willful negligence was worth fifty dollars. Apparently yes, yes it is. She adds five more shots and Danny’s down fifty more bucks.
He absolutely catches her squatting down staring vacantly at the fifty muttering, “but was it worth it”, though. He cringes just a little bit; then he gets back to the phone call. Sighing, “blob ghosts typically have eyes, Charles, and the little guy’s eating your ties because you constantly let the things dangle down into your samples and don’t fucking wash them in an ectophobic solution. Gosh”, and rolls his eyes as he sits back down with his friends; who just quirk their eyebrows at him while he keeps talking away, “and of course my desk is bobby-trapped, man. If the G.I.W. activates that they’d be so bothered by the cleanliness breach that they’d just go home”. Tuck chokes and smacks the table comically a couple of times, making loud thumping noises.
Charles actually laughs, “true! So what can you do about the blob, buddy?”.
Danny screws up his face, pulls the phone away from his ear and stares down at it. Glancing to his friends, “a teacher just called me ‘buddy’???”, Danny’s not quite sure how to react to that, them laughing at him doesn’t help. Shaking his head he returns the phone to his ear and gives a cheery, “nope! Enjoy your new pet!”, and hangs up on the guy.
“Wha-”.
Danny starts eating the fries.
Tucker points his second burger at him, “you know...”. Danny pointing right back at him with a fry, “hush you”. He knows he’s a teacher himself alright, geez.
(Charles seemingly took Danny up on that pet comment and actually called FentonWorks for a containment unit and to ask about ‘ghost pet care’, Danny’s mom gave him the phone with a truly dumbfounded expression).
---
Alright, today’s the day. What day? Why the day to get paper assignments for the first goddamn time ever and try not to lose, destroy, contaminate, or otherwise ruin them. He’s fucked. Solidly fucked. But hey, at least it’s also the day to show off his shit fashion choices as well, little ray of sunshine there. Some light in the darkness.
He should probably attempt to win some points with Lancer and wear the dress shirt, honestly. So that’s what he’s gonna do. Depressed banana dress shirt, sequin alien bandana, crushed velvet pants, and what the heck the ‘dead boy’ tailcoat too why not; this boy is getting DRESSED UP today! And fine, yes he looks good based on his mirror's reflection; but his mirror is definitely ecto-contaminated so it might not be entirely trustworthy.
His dad also whistling at him as he heads downstairs for breakfast isn’t trustworthy either, considering the man’s fashion style was less of a ‘style’ and more of a scientific protective mess of orange and the occasional tie. Danny rolls his eyes and waves his dad off, “oh whatever, needed ‘proper attire’”, shrugging loosly, “whatever that means”. Jack beams, “just wear a jumpsuit! That’s always proper!”. Maddie looks away from the microwave she’s nuking some noodles in to glare at him, “not at a reunion, dear”; making Danny chuckle to himself while Jack rubs his neck. She still waves cheerily at Danny as he leaves though so...
-
This is one of those days he actually leaves early enough for a few quick patrol laps around his town, two ectopusses, the Box Ghost (because of course), all followed by him literally tripping into one of Skulker’s traps; hence why he was now peeling a basic ass bear trap -be more creative, tinman- off his leg. At least he had the sense to wipe off the ectoplasm with one of his random shit handkerchiefs before walking to the classroom and loudly dropping said beartrap on his desk in what was probably a slightly terrifying alpha move.
Is he early now? Haha no. At least three people jumped from the sudden loud noise. But fuck, Danny was NOT waiting around for Skulker to show his ass for longer than three minutes. Danny had shit to do, man. And apparently the local poacher can’t bother to be punctual when his traps go off. Fuck.
James blinks, “what the fuck?”. While Valerie just sighs and rolls her eyes, leaning back against her chair, “you stumbled on one of Skulker’s traps, didn’t you?”. Danny waves a hand around limply, “yeah? Yer point?”; making her roll her eyes at him very hard.
Danny doesn’t even get a chance to pick up the whiteboard marker before he’s pausing as his throat ices up, him holding up a finger, and just turning to walk right back out the classroom door. Fucking Skulker, goddamnit. But hey, his tailcoat whipping/fluttering about in the air in a way that was actually kinda badass was probably cool looking. He doesn’t have attendance points but he does have style points today motherfuckers.
Dale blinking, “did he just walk in only to leave again?”, slapping the desk, “well I guess he did drop off a bear trap from a ghost so... samples count as teaching?”. Todd snorting and rolling his eyes, “that doesn’t count for shit”; Valerie just chucks a pencil at him.
“I’m more interested in his whole get up. Who pairs a fucking tailcoat with sequin anything?”.
“Oh shut it, Amber. At least he didn’t come in wit a tie or a freaking suit”.
Dash snorts and actually laughs a little, “oh imagine that little twink in a suit! Ha!”. Which just makes Valerie smirk and turn to the jock, “he looks better in one than you do, Dash”.
“Oh fuck you, reject”. That comment was the only excuse Valerie felt she needed for proceeding to kick him in the chin, which might have started up a minor brawl by the time Danny got back.
Danny’s mildly attempting to fix his hair when he hip-checks his way back into his classroom, pausing with his hand stuck halfway through his hair at Valerie just having Dash in a headlock on the floor. Danny blinking, “mmmmm’ ‘kay”. Which fine, the class starts laughing at him for. Danny talks right over said chuckling, “so once somebody’s done with their little vice grip, or whatever, on another person everyone can relinquish their vice grip on their assignment shit and gimme gimme”. Val flips him off but hey, at least she lets Dash start breathing again. It’s something. And everyone does, in fact, start getting up to give him their work. Valerie trying to quietly and subtly ask him if ‘he’s okay’ when she hands hers over though. Danny sighing and shrugging limply, “eh I’m good, Skulker’s gonna be hearing from my lawyers though”, and smirks; resulting in Val smacking him over the head with a scowl.
-
Lancer showing up just after the bell, looking Danny up and down, and nodding with a, “good”, is weirdly chastising and awkwardly awkward. Ashley giggling to herself, “oh I get it, boy got in trouble for his clothing ‘choices’”. Danny points at her aggressively, “hush you”. Lancer leaves without choosing to comment on that.
---
Does Danny basically use the next couple of school days to make the school/his class his own personal fashion runway? Yes, yes he does. Did he also decide to melt some glue on the end of his tailcoat and file it to be sharp and blade-like? Yup. Was that very thing why Millie was currently done with his shit and arguing with him? Also yes.
“He cut the case lock for the microscope and ruined an entire three hundred dollar machine! We’re allowed to be armed but not wear literal blades as clothing!”.
Lancer is very clearly restraining a sigh.
Charles shrugs from the couch, “hey buddy, it was my machine and you don’t see me complaining”, looking to Danny, “I’m more curious about the how honestly”. Which fucking tracks for the man. Millie gestures at Charles, garish bangle bracelets clinking around in the process, “it’s the schools”, turning to Lancer, “at least fine the child”.
Danny crosses his arms, “hey, I’m eighteen not a ‘child’”, he was still considered a child ghost but that was besides the point.
Lancer pinches his nose and holds up a hand, which Millie actually listens too thank fuck for that. Danny’s pretty sure Lancer is literally the only person that lady respects even slightly. “While I’m certain it was an accident-”, glancing at Danny which Danny rubs his neck sheepishly over before Lancer continues, “-and the school could certainly just add this onto the Fenton tab, I doubt that would pose much of a solution for the fact that you simply don’t like Daniel very much, Millie”.
Millie huffs and crosses her arms, “he’s a menace-”. Danny can’t even argue against that. “-is barely older than most of the students-”. Also true. “-and couldn’t we have literally anyone else, anyone who’s a competent decent respectable person, teach his elective”. Oh this woman just loved mocking and treating non-core classes as lesser.
Danny smirks, “be careful or Remi’s gonna put paint in your pencil drawer again”. She scowls at him for that, pointing at him aggressively, “I know you helped her with that”. Danny will neither confirm nor deny that, “oh but how could I possibly remember when your nasty yellow fake nails are being way too distracting”.
“Why I never-”.
Lancer interjects at this point, Danny’s surprised the man even let him finish his witty comeback/insult. “That’s enough, you two clearly need some bonding time so-”, looking to the math teacher, “-Millie, you’ll be sitting in on Daniel’s class, I know you don’t have any scheduled class during that time and that you’re all caught up on grading, so don’t give me that excuse”; she scowls at him. Lancer looking to Danny, “and Daniel, you’ll sit in on her second block grade twelves”, glaring, “and no bathroom breaks”. Danny sags and whines very dramatically and very petulantly; Charles just starts snickering while attempting -and failing- to cover up said snickering with his hand.
Danny is so not impressed. Neither is Millie but that’s not Danny’s problem now is it. But now that Danny thinks about it, this is the perfect excuse to talk about ghost hunger and force someone who didn’t sign up for this shit to listen to/deal with his shit. Danny might just give Millie a more than slightly malicious smirk as he shoves Charles out of the way enough to sit on the couch; the man just rolling with it while trying not to laugh at his expense any further.
Danny only came early today for the cookies Remi said she’d drop off in the lounge, look how hard that bit him in the ass. Doesn’t even have time to sit and enjoy more than one cup of coffee now. Fuck. Wearing his SATAN bandana was probably asking for it a bit though. Flipping out his phone while nibbling on a cookie and blatantly ignoring Millie storming out in a huff.
thealiveone: so guess who just jacked up the tab AND pissed off mille
PDAxpda: millies the math teach right?
Nightshade: nice
thealiveone: yup! she like always hates me nothing new there
thealiveone: she no happy about recent bought of destruction of property
PDAXpda: someone needs to chill that’s what you do
thealiveone: ouch but yes and now have excuse to force her to hear out ghost hunger
Nightshade: you cruel cruel man I apporv
Nightshade: that bitch gave me so much shit about my ‘satanic’ fashion
thealiveone: ahhh yes I remever that
thealiveone: from back when we were young
thealiveone: our youthful days
PDAXpda: *pfffft*
thealiveone: anyone any one want cookies?
Nightshade: 😆🙃 sure Danny
-
By the time it’s time for Danny to head to his shit he has consumed three cookies and stuffed around eight intangibly inside his body for safekeeping; not like Sam and Tuck gave a shit about eating/using stuff from inside him.
Is Millie waiting judgementally outside of his classroom? Yes. Does he care? No. The class absolutely eyes him and the math teacher as he waltz’s in though. Todd snickering, “ooooo someone needs a babysitter do they?”. Danny just smirks, “oh no Lance-y’s just punishing his problem children. Anyway today’s subject will be light cannibalism”, and smirks wickedly.
Millie glares while taking a seat off to the side, “I’m not the child here”.
“I’m not the one being petty”.
“You broke a three hundred dollar machine”.
“And? Your point?”.
At this point most of the class is snickering, Valerie shakes her head, “you never change, Danny”. Danny finger-gunning, “and never plan to”. Millie’s scowl deepens.
Danny rummages through his desk muttering, “where’d I put it, where’d I put it”, all the while. Because fine, maybe he was saving this subject for when he thought it would be the most impactful, so sue him. Grinning when he actually finds and starts digging out the little habitat with around five or six blob ghosts in it. Well technically they were blebs, a subspecies of blobs, but whatever. These would have probably been a lot easier to find if he hadn’t modified the bottom drawer to be connected to a slight pocket dimension… but then they wouldn’t have even fit in the drawer in the first place. You win some you lose some.
James blinking as Danny puts the container on his desk somewhat loudly, “huh, guess it’s ‘live’ specimens again. Neat”. Emilie grins, “awww they’re cute”, then glares/smirks at Valerie daring the girl to argue. Valerie just rolls her eyes. Danny also pulling out a blender makes everyone go awkwardly and cautiously silent though. Danny’s just busy cursing while he tries to plug the stupid thing in, “why the f̴̢uc̸̢k is it all bent up?”. No one elects to point out any obvious answers to that one.
Danny walking back over to his desk and popping open the bleb containment unit, “so anyone wanna taste test some basic b̴̡i҉̧t͟͟ch̕͠ ghost food?”, and proceeds to drop the bleb into the blender while simultaneously turning it on; does he get ecto splattered on his face because he forgot the blender lid? Oh absolutely and he’s cool with that. At least half the class jerks back and/or screws up their faces. Millie looks deeply offended; success! Danny licks a bit off of his cheek while staring at the class just to be extra. Dash and Val are the only ones who look completely unphased -though Todd’s trying to look unphased- seeing as both of them had seen him straight-up eat a ghost before.
Ashley squeaks, “um, no?”. Which Danny busts out laughing over and losses his composure, sitting on the edge of his desk, “I’m not serious, Ashley. And don’t worry about the little guy, as we’ve discussed, non-cored ghosts basically respawn”, holding up a finger, “plus! Bleb’s like being eaten”, at that he takes a swig straight from the blender and winks at Millie.
Jasper mutters, “oh Zone he’s doing this to fuck with Ms. Felmer”.
“Mood”.
“Understandable”.
Dale chuckles, “I knew Danny was a menace but damn”. Dash looks a little freaked out, “did I mess his taste buds up by making him eat my underwear?”. Danny absolutely has to address that, pointing at him with the blender slightly, “you are not nearly that influential on my life, Dash”.
“Whatever, Fentaco”.
Millie actually snaps, “Mr. Baxter”, over that jab; making the jock roll his eyes and huff. Her voice sounding a wee bit strained pleases Danny greatly though. Truly.
Danny taps the containment container, “now remember I have a really bloody weird ecto-contamination so do not try that at home. Anyway, ghost hunger involves the eating of ghosts. Surprise surprise, I know. And if none of you leave this class today without losing your lunch I will feel personally offended…”. Again, why did the principal think putting this class directly after lunch was a good idea? Oh well, the janitor's problem now.
-
Did anyone actually wind up throwing up? Yes actually. Not Millie though, much to Danny’s dismay. She did look close multiple times though. And fine, maybe, maybe, Danny went into far more detail than really necessary. Which absolutely explains Brittney sticking up a hand and asking, “how do you even know this this well”, while looking more than a little sick. A few other teens nodding their agreement and mutual curiosity.
Danny snickers, “I have walked in on Technus showering and brushing his teeth, do you really think I haven’t walked in repeatedly on a ghost eating another ghost. Especially when all our local blobs and whisps are totally smitten with Phantom’s stomach?”. That earns him a very loud round of gagging, and Val’s staring at her desk like she’s having a mild crisis. Ah today’s been a good day.
“Forget I asked. What the Hell”.
That just makes Danny smirk as the bell goes off. That makes Danny jolt out of his seat, summon his green quill out of his hair, and start wildly scribbling on the board, “oh! Oh! Before you go, grab your assignment şh͘͜i҉͞t̶͝ and to the person who wrote about the theory that Phantom’s a parasitic species and that’s why he can stay here so long -you know who you are- I hate you. Your little quizzes are in there too, I realise I was lazy about marking şh͘͜i҉͞t̶͝ don’t at me. Also also, this-”, tapping the board, “-is the room I’ll be in for the parent-teacher thingy ma jiggy not this room, for reasons”. Which gets him more than a little snickering and some pointed glances at the -now empty- blender, while everyone takes their graded shit. Danny’s just glad he managed to not lose or destroy anyone’s shit. Though Emilie’s quiz did have a mysterious new ectoplasm stain that he… attempted… to get out. He tried okay?
Millie glares at him as she gets up last to leave, “you, boy, are an affront to humanity”, then promptly leaves. Danny puts a hand to his chest and very loudly says, “why thank you”.
Unfortunately, he is now stuck staying here ‘till her shitty math class. Fuck. Sighing loudly at his ceiling before smirking and chuckling a little, “time to do some sketchy shit, do da, do da”. He could use some ghost summoning practice.
-
Needless to say half an hour later the schools been evacuated and there’s a pissed off dragon ghost -not from Dora’s kingdom which kinda shocked Danny- flying around. Most of the teachers are glaring at him, Lancer included. At least he’s got a duplicate of himself in Phantom form off throwing fist-a-cuffs; well… more like arguing aggressively about not meaning to summon the one goddamn dragon that wasn’t from the Draconic's kingdom.
Lancer sighs at grounded human form him, “you’re still sitting in on Millie’s math class”.
“Awwwww”. Danny smirks a little, “also, I need a new desk chair”. Lancer puts his head in his hands and shakes his head faintly.
Danny (as Phantom) and the goddamn dragon pause as Red flys up on her hoverboard. Danny waving goofily, “sup Red”, pointing at the dragon, “he’s just upsetti spaghetti, not a real problemo”. He can feel Red’s annoyance and disapproval. The dragon just growls and attempts to breathe fire at her; which she obviously dodges.
Danny gestures at the dragon while she basically unloads on them, “blame your teacher of ghost things!”, and then resumes attempting to capture the dragon. He can easily hear Red mutter, “Zone damn it, Danny”; which fine, he chuckles at.
Eventually, Danny does manage to get the dragon into his thermos. There’s probably one more ghost out there with a bone to pick with him though. Oops. He’s not even slightly surprised to get a chat message from Val a little later.
Robin: whhhhhhhyyyyyyyyy
thealiveone: 😏
thealiveone: are you not entertained
Robin: 😑🖕🏻
thealiveone: *snicker*
(Danny still does, in fact, have to sit through math, which was just as torturous as he remembers. Millie made it even more awful of course. Though unlike him she didn’t change her class plan just to fuck with his day, she did treat him like a student and called on him to answer questions constantly though… that got him so much subtle mocking).
---
The parent-teacher thing comes up way quicker than he would have liked. Lancer giving him a shoulder pat as Danny slumps down into this room's chair, “I’m sure this will go just fine”. Danny rolls his eyes, “I’m a literal teen, Lance. Adult-y folks aren’t known for respecting teens or whatever”.
Lancer deadpans, “somehow, Daniel, I doubt you actually care”. Making Danny snort, “true true. I do still have a point though”.
“Which is exactly why I’ll be staying here and supervising”.
Danny actively groans at that. But fine, understandable.
Of course the first parents, fuck this is weird Ancients, show up while Danny’s partway through spinning around in his chair. It’s Emilie and she is smirking, telling Danny that they absolutely don’t know this random teen is the teacher. Hell yeah time to fuck with them.
Emilie’s mom looks around, “oh is the teacher not here yet?”, looking to Lancer, “I doubt you’re also the ecto-ology teacher”. Lancer actually chuckles a little at that before shaking his head.
Danny snorts and stands up a bit dramatically, “sorry to say but… he died. Totally dead”. Emilie snickers into her hand. Val picks that exact moment to barge in herself with her dad, “Danny, stop telling people you’re dead. You walking problem”.
Mr. Gray quirks an eyebrow at Danny, “ah so my Valerie was telling the truth, somehow I’m both surprised and not”, then walks right up to Danny, claps him on the shoulder, and says, “good for you, lad”. Which Danny rubs his neck a bit sheepishly over. Both Val’s dad and Tuck’s folks worried about his ass, usually more than his own folks did; which, yes, was kinda a bit fucking wild.
Emilie’s mom blinks and looks to her husband then back to Danny, “you’re? the teacher?”. Lancer takes that moment to actually speak up, “indeed Daniel is. Arguably he’s the most qualified for the position, and excluding some… incidences… his performance is more than acceptable”.
Danny snorts, “complimenting and insulting me all in one go, nice”, and finger-guns at the man. Lancer just gives him a fond but exasperated look.
Emilie’s mom purses her lips before shrugging after a bit. Her and her husband both walking over and sitting down, Emilie lounging behind. “Well alright then, though you are certainly a little young to be in such a position of power-”. Danny has to seriously resist throwing his head back, cackling, and saying ‘you have no idea’ at that because fuck saying he had too much power was a goddamn fucking understatement. “-but how is she doing?”, looking over her shoulder to eyeball Emilie slightly, “not being too much of a distraction”.
Danny snorts, “ma’am, being a distraction is basically my job in class. I guess you could say I encourage active discussion and pretty much ignore the ‘put up your hand before speaking’ rule altogether”. Emilie snorts, “considering you blew up the classroom a few days ago…”.
Her dad sighs, “well I guess that’s still better than Jack”. Which fine, Danny snorts at.
Danny pointing at the man, “to be fair, I’ve taken plenty protective measures and do, in fact, know what I’m doing. The accidental wrong dragon summoning was just a miscalculation and wasn’t even during class time”.
Lancer glares at him a little, “yes, and now you’re banned from unapproved experimentation”. Danny just pouts at him before actually doing the class talking stuff he’s supposed to be doing. Val and her dad are just ‘waiting’ off to the side and chuckling at him faintly.
When it is Mr. Gray’s turn the man immediately asks, “she’s not letting outside interests interfere with your class, is she?”. Danny can practically feel the threat of grounding coming off of that question, holy shit. Lancer dutifully pretends to not be listening, Danny is goddamn postivite Lancer knows about Val since she’s way easier to figure out than him.
Danny chuckles, “naw, in fact I can say that my class is the only one she doesn’t ditch”, and gives a very cocky proud grin. Like a preening peacock. Val glares at him a little, “that’s because you boobytrapped the door. No one can leave unless you let them”. Danny just smirks more, “what can I say? I know how to hold a hostage or two”. Val clearly can’t help snorting/laughing at that. Mr. Gray actually looks a little pleased and impressed.
From there pretty much all the meetings are boring and pretty typical. Granted he did tell Todd’s folks that ‘Todd’s a real dick’, which Lancer apologised for on Danny’s behalf. Todd’s dad saying ‘oh we know’ threw Lancer through a bit of a loop though. And apparently Danny calling their son a dick made him more trustable in their eyes, who knew? Dash’s dad made a joke about how ‘hey aren't you that boy my son whipped into shape?!?’ and laughed heartily. Which lead to Lancer going off on a tangent about Mrs. Testlauf’s unhealthy teaching methods, which is how Danny learned that there is a serious beef between the two.
But then came Sophia with her parents, Sophia was one of the freshmen whose family moved here somewhat recently. Girl basically never talked and always seemed cautious. She did perk up a little whenever anything really dark or gory came up -can’t exactly talk about dead people without speaking of brutal horrid violent death- so Danny thinks she’s, like, a closet Goth or Emo or something. Sam would love to introduce her to the ookie spookie side.
Mrs. Holly comes in walking like she’s a judgmental holier-than-thou know it all with some serious entitlement issues, so Danny’s pretty sure this is just going to be so fun. Sophia looks a little more meek and sheepish than usual too. Mrs. Holly huffs, “I truly can’t believe they’d have such a garish class nonetheless let a child from such a proper family take it”, and huffs for a second time. Mr. Holly shaking his head, “truly unbelievable”. Ahhh Danny can see where this is going, even Lancer's frowning a little. Now Danny could either be ‘responsible’ and handle this ‘like an adult’ or he could just choose violence. He’s a combative motherfucker so one option is much more appetising.
Lancer speaks up first, “if you ask me, this class should be, and in the future will be, mandatory. A core subject. It’s a matter of safety after all”. Danny points at him, “and the general knowledge is way more useful than social or math”. Lancer gives him one unimpressed look at that. Danny shrugs and waves him off, “what? Everyone has calculators in their pockets, there isn’t an app for ghosts”.
The parents decide to speak up at that. Mr. Holly scoffing sarcastically, “ah yes, this ‘ghosts’ thing”. Which tells Danny exactly what kind of head-stuck-in-the-sand motherfuckers these guys are. Mrs. Holly nods and scowls at Danny, “yes, we didn’t expect this town to be a satanic cult stronghold”. Which makes Danny cough because that was not quite what he was expecting. Even Lancer coughs and goes a little bug-eyed.
Danny blinks, “excuse me? Do you not believe in ghosts and just think this town is under the delusions of a cult?”. This was actually a new one for Danny. What the fuck.
“We believe in Jesus. Sad to say you clearly don’t, doing the devil's work. ‘Ghosts’ ‘from the afterlife’. As if those are not other words for ‘demon’ and ‘Hell’. And I am not impressed that my little girl is being allowed to be indoctrinated like this. This is why we need more support for proper Christian homeschooling”, she nods to herself with a huff. Mr. Holly nodding readily as well.
This is actually the first time Danny’s ever been called a literal demon actually. He’s been called a demon child or little devil but not literally a demon. Like, a ‘from Hell’ type demon. Should he be flattered? Maybe? Oh whatever. But choosing violence would be the ‘demonic’ thing to do right? So Danny snorts, “I mean if you wanna raise your kid badly and mess them up for adult life, go right ahead. But when your kid doesn’t know what to do during a ghost attack when we get randomly assaulted by a sentient tornado or invaded by another dragon, don’t come complaining to me. Also don’t come complaining to me when your kid moves out at seventeen and refuses to talk to you for twenty-three years”. Lancer looks like he wants to stop him and make him shut up but also really doesn’t want to. Danny’s probably a bad influence on the man. “If you don’t want to believe in ghosts, something very explicitly real unlike your unproven book god, that’s your dealio. But come on and have some decency and let your kid make up their own mind, yeah?”.
Mr. Holly blinks at him, “how old are you?”. Making Danny laugh, “physically? eighteen. Mentally? A lot older than you, clearly”. Both adults look suitably offended by that and Sophia has a tiny smile though also seems more than a little nervous. Her folks are probably the ‘my house, my rules’ and ‘I brought you into this world I can bring you out’ and ‘this is the way this family does things, so you have to as well’ types.
Mrs. Holly scoffs, “this is unbelievable”, turning around to Sophia -who has a good Poker face, which is actually kind of concerning/depressing- and snapping, “to think you’d even select such a class”. Sophia muttering, “I find it interesting”, chewing her lip a little, “and he did bring proof of them day one”. Mrs. Holly rolls her eyes, “oh yeah? What proof?”, and actively looks like she just won this conversation; which Danny is so not having.
So Danny, being Danny and the undead gremlin child that he is, shouts, “this proof!”, and proceeds to grab an ecto-apple from inside his tailcoat, smashing it down on the desk hard enough to make it explode, and grins slightly manically while the green ectoplasm juice and chunks bubble, start moving, develop eyes and mouths, start sticking up like deadman’s finger fungus, and then start shrieking.
Lancer chokes. The parents jerk and jump back, having gotten splattered slightly. Sophia just blinks wide-eyed, taking a slight step back; she was, after all, slightly more used to Danny and his general wackiness.
Danny sticks his finger in the coagulated mass of screaming green horror and starts swirling it/his finger around, grinning manically still, “proof enough fer ya?”. He does pull out a thermos and suck the stuff up when the desk starts steaming though.
The parents say nothing for a bit before Mr. Holly stammers, “we-we will n-not be deceive-deceived by a w-witch”. Which Danny snorts at, “I’ve got a friend who’s a witch, but naw, not really my thing. I prefer to chill it with the dead rather than pagan gods”, tilting his head, “though I guess some pagan gods are also ghosts so eh”, and shrugs.
Mrs. Holly scowls, turns on her heels, and leaves. Snapping, “come on Sophia”. Her husband scampering after her. Danny waves in the most fruity way he can, speaking singsong,“🎵bbbyyyyeeeeee🎵“, looking to Sophia, “see you on Monday, yeah?”. She just nods at him with a slight smile.
Mr. Lancer blinks after a bit, “Daniel… I almost feel like I need to write you up for that entire stunt”, holding up a finger while pinching his nose and leaning back in his chair, “but. You probably did the right thing”. Danny can’t help chuckling at that, “I mean, I would say I did the right thing but my opinion on my own behaviour is absolutely super-duper biased”. Lancer glares at him while he continues, “and really? not believing in ghosts is a good way to wind up dead. Better to bite that bullshit in the ass than let them think throwing holy water at Johnny would be a good idea”.
Lancer blinks, “they would likely have bad luck for the rest of their lives”. Danny nods immediately, “understatement. Kitty would send that man to her alternate kiss dimension in a heartbeat”. Lancer just stares at him a little bit, “has… has that happened to you?”.
“Happened to all of Amity’s men slash boys once”.
Lancer chooses to not respond to that.
---
“Hmmmm. I see. He is rather handling it well. Fulfilling the proper and respective duties”.
“Ah yes indeed. As… begrudging as that is to admit”.
“We’ll have to have a… conversation”.
“But of course”.
“Most unfortunate”.
“Indeed”.
“But he will accept what he’s due”.
“As he should”.
“However, we can never be sure with… that one”.
“Truly unfortunate”.
“Time and her overseer favour that one far too much”.
“And yet they are right, which is also quite unfortunate”.
“Yes. Quite”.
“Well shall we get to it?”.
“Hmmmm no. Let four nine eight and four nine one deal with that one, they are unwise yet”.
“Very well. Watcher”.
Chapter 5: I Am The Guardian Of The Knowledge! The Knowledge Guardian!
Danny is having a morning alright? Sure he had a good-ish sleep, seeing as he apparently did decently well with the parent/teacher thingy excluding the fact that the school had now acquired a religious discrimination complaint (not that the school cared). And also sure, maybe he got out of genuinely fighting Technus by humble bragging since that ghost was ‘a man of science’ and thus was a sucker for any gossip involving someone taking the piss out of religious folks. Also also, he got waffles this morning. Big plus there.
So you’d think with all that he’d be about to have an awesome morning but nope. Instead, he is currently actively running away from his consequences. Well okay, mostly flying but he can’t exactly do that once he got to school.
Danny walks briskly into the classroom and shuts the door very firmly, even going so far as to lock it a bit dramatically before turning around and giving the class an awkward smile. Heading up to the board, “alright f͜ư͘ck҉͘ę͏r͡s̛-”.
He absolutely ignores the, “Open up”, from outside the door. Chuckling very awkwardly while the class glances at the door then back to him. Danny clearing his throat, “so now that the parent-teacher stuff is outta the way and y’all proved you’re not totally stupid with the quiz and mini lab thing. Why don’t we move on to lairs and contamination-”.
“Daniel James Janus Fenton”.
Danny sighs very audibly and stares up at the ceiling for a second, everyone else quirking eyebrows, snickering, or talking at each other.
“Uhhhh, I feel like he’s using us somehow”.
“Does he seriously have two middle names?”.
Valerie grumbles to herself a bit about how she didn’t even know Danny had a second middle name.
“Better yet one of them is ‘Janus’? The Hell?”.
“Ha, serves the freak right”.
Danny clears his throat a little, “anyway, the Eyes Of Ovi Colosseum is a perfect example of a really stupid specified lair for some mouthless d͏͜į͡ck҉̸͞s҉ nitpicking over laws who think they somehow have the right to control other peoples existences”, and throws a mild glare at the door. Bunch of floating cloaked dicks.
Emilie snorts and laughs into her hand, “oooh someone’s trying to throw a little shade”.
A couple of people chuckle at the, “we have responsibilities, Daniel. Now will you allow us an attendance with you”, that speaks up from the other side of the door.
James quirks an eyebrow, “that sounded more like a threat than a ‘please let me in, dickhead’”. Earning some nods and more chuckles.
“I’m more curious who Danny pissed off enough to stand angrily outside of the ghost-proofed door”.
Danny holds up a finger, “technically, they’re cops”. Earning him a round of shocked gasps and scandalised looks of horror. Rolling his wrist, “anyway, their lair is, like, the biggest standing prison. Vortex’s in it”, shrugging, “they might have tried assassinating me once…”, Danny continues without acknowledging or explaining on that one. And yes, he mentioned it purely to piss off the Observants and rub it in just a little bit more that they failed at ending his ass.
Once the class over bell rings though… he looks around awkwardly and with a level of fake pleading, “anyone suddenly feel like staying after class?”.
Val actually humours him (which he one hundred percent expected), ditto with Emilie actually. Todd just wants any excuse to skip class that doesn’t require him doing anything legitimately bad like leaving school property. Everyone else opting to get up and head to the door, though flashing him apologetic shrugs… or smirking meanly. You’d think they’d be nicer to a guy that can affect their grades. Fucking jerks. However it is Danny who gets to smirk meanly when there is -surprise surprise- two Observants floating outside his door that all of them have to skirt around very cautiously. The Observants, for their part, completely ignore all of his fellow teens/students; instead they just stare -if eyelidless giant eyes even can stare- at him intensely. Danny waves cheekily; they feel like they’re glaring. And pretty much all the other teens that see the Observants just kind of hide around corners and observe instead of heading to their next class. Nosy shits, Danny would do the exact same. He probably shouldn’t feel proud over their want for gossip outweighing the requirement to go to class or to practice self-preservation, but he totally does.
One of the Observants lifts up a boney green hand and points at him, “we need to speak with you”. Making Danny snort, cross his arms, and lean against his desk, “yeah I think I got that one after the multi-hour stalking session”. Valerie snorts at that though she is eyeballing the Hell out of the fucking ghosts.
“Alone”.
Danny puts a hand to his chest, “aawwwww, confessing your love for me in private? How scandalous”.
The Observant on the left looks to the one on the right, “I now understand why the elders didn’t want to deal with him”. Which fine, makes Danny feel exceptionally proud of himself. Emilie laughs, “oooo, I so want to know what Danny did to hurt these poor elders' feelings or whatever”. Danny side-eyes and smirks at her, “oh only colluded with a god to break the laws of temporal displacement”.
“I can’t even tell if you’re serious”.
Danny’s smirk grows malicious, “good”, then sighing and sagging, looking back to the two Observants, “fiiiiiiine. But no, I don’t know who jailbroke whatever prisoner out. Or where Plasmius has hidden whatever artifact of rare and overwhelming power. Or-”
The Observant on the right actually has the gall to interrupt him, “you are not to blame for anything”. The left one adding on, “currently”; making Danny snort. Him then gesturing at his three ‘students’, “but can’t you see that I am busy? I mean really. Some of us actually have work to do these days”; all three teens chuckling to themselves over that while also mildly pretending to be taking notes or some shit. But with another heftily sigh Danny moves to pack his shit… very slowly. Because technically legitimately snuffing the Observants was a recipe for disaster and Lancer probably wouldn’t appreciate the school getting beset by an army of eyeball assholes purely because Danny felt like being a bastard. That… and it might actually be something mildly important; which, arguably, he shouldn’t just ignore.
Today’s turned into real shit.
Valerie quirks an eyebrow at him when he throws his backpack over his shoulder, making the tailcoat flare out a little, “are you seriously going along with a pair of ghosts”, then glaring at Danny when he rolls his eyes at her.
“Val, it’s perfectly fine. Annoying, but arguably fine”, him shrugging, “it’s not like they can harm me”, looking to the Observants and smirking meanly, “seeing as they are incapable of doing harm”, snorting, “pfffft, fucking pacifists, am I right?”. A couple of people in the hallway are noticeably stifling snickers. The Observants, for their part, just ‘stare’ silently.
Joshep shouts from the hallway, “what are all you kids doing out here?!? Get to class!”. Danny’s pretty sure that he -and the Observants- is the only one who can hear Joshep muttering, “what the Hell did that Fenton kid do now? Why does my classes have to be so close to his? Just why?”.
Danny picks that moment to walk out of his classroom, look at Joshep, and laugh very loudly and sarcastically. Joshep grimaces deeply at him, eyes the two FUCKING GHOSTS, and grimaces deeper but also with slight fear. Val, Todd, and Emilie all slip out behind Danny; Val whispering at him, “I hope you know what you’re doing, Danny”. Making him smirk, “when do I ever”; earning him some major glaring. He’d bet money on her not actually going to class and instead trying to secretively follow him ‘for his safety’.
The hallway gets real empty real fast as soon as Danny walks off with the Observants following him a bit unnecessarily close; that really only encourages him to walk slower though so HA!
Just before exiting the building Danny quickly throws Lancer a text, you know, in case the man tries to go looking for him or some shit. Joshep will probably tattle on him for ‘having pet eyeball ghosts’. Though making a pet of an Observant would be one Hell of a power move, goddamn.
Danny : 🚓🚔🚓
Let his sorta boss think of that what he will, for now, Danny’s gotta go and deal with his problems. Apparently anyways. Kinda hard to skirt ‘the law’ when said ‘law’ were ‘all-seeing’. Fuck him.
-
By the time Danny and his two personal shadows get to the Colosseum he thinks the two Observants might just be starting to get close to overdosing on puns. Probably helps that Danny’s using the shittiest, corniest, dumbest ones he can possibly think of. And to think he only got halfway through his stockpiled eyeball-themed ones!
Him glancing around the Colosseum full of Observants, and apparently ClockWork? off to the side cleaning their staff lazily. Stupid Clocky, Danny so could have used a heads up; throwing them a quick pout -which they smirk slightly over- before looking up at Watcher, the head Observant. Putting his hands in his pockets, “soooooo? The fucks up, extra-large eyeball”.
Watcher leaves him hanging for a little bit before speaking up and Danny can practically hear the reluctance and regret in their voice, “Daniel James Janus Fenton Phantom, I’m certain it should come as no surprise to you that we are well aware of your recently acquired… position, as well as how your performance has tracked”.
Danny snorts, “so what? You fucks care about mortal realm teaching now? Isn’t that shit, you know, beneath you or whatever? Not that I actually care. Go ahead and get your knickers in knots about whatever the fuck you wanna. But this?-”, gesturing around lazily, “-seems a little excessive as retaliation for educating mortals. Dramatic as fuck, which mild props there I guess, but still-”.
Watcher cutting him off, “this is not a punishment, as you’ve already been made aware-”. Danny flips him off for that jab. “-rather your… position makes you qualified and befitted of another”.
What.
No seriously, what the fuck?
Danny blinks and tilts his head, “are you trying to also give me a job offer?”; the fuck is wrong with people and springing sudden surprise job offers for shit he is almost definitely largely not qualified for. Though fine, Danny as Phantom had a fuck tone of qualifications here in the Zone. Fuck, he even technically had right to claim the High Throne!
Watcher almost sighs and glances up for a split second, “the answer to your question is neither affirmative nor contradicting. You have taken actions no other has and doing so with more than just marginal success. As such you are the only being fulfilling the role of educating mortals and working through those means to ease the strained and threatening relationship between our realms-”.
Danny jumps in at that, throwing his hands out to the side, “you’re only now just noticing that?!? I’ve been pretty well doing that since the beginning!”. ClockWork holds up a finger, “but was that out of choice or necessity? And were any instances of you actually being educational simply accidents while you were doing what you do best?”, nodding to themselves almost smugly, “I think we both know the answer there, Daniel”; Danny rolls his eyes though blushes a little. Damn it, Clocky.
Watcher doesn’t actively acknowledge ClockWork -which he’s sure ClockWork’s gonna use as an excuse to fuck with them later. Fuck, they might be fucking with them right now- instead continuing to speak at Danny, “you are being granted a position of Ambassador and Sovereign Wisdom, Guardian of the passing of wisdom between the two realms”.
Danny blinks, oh my Ancients. Okay yes ClockWork was absolutely involved in this and the Observants are absolutely not happy about this. Guardians were BIG FUCKING DEALS. The High Sovereign was basically the only one above Guardians. Well and technically the Observants, but that was debatable. Danny snorts, “wow you guys must really hate yourselves. Here I thought you didn’t want me having more power?”. He can feel multiple glares.
Watcher themselves seemingly glares, “while that still stands, what is earned is earned and what is due is due. And while a Guardian of this variety is not necessary, it is beneficial to the realm and future. And, begrudgingly, you do it well”. Danny has to roll his eyes at that, the Observants and their ‘for the betterment of the future’, that got old before he even met them. He does actually put on his more serious face/posture when Watcher floats down to be more on level with him. “so will you accept?”.
“What, in any world, would make you think I’d say no? You don’t have to beg me, you bunch of eyeball crybabies?”. Like really? HE WAS ALREADY DOING THE ‘JOB’. The only reason he didn’t take the High Throne was the added boatloads of responsibilities; that, and he’d have to spend so much time here that he might as well just live in the Zone… not happening anytime soon.
“Very well”. Watcher raises a hand and waves it, a sceptre forming next to their hand floating in the air before it starts moving towards him slowly. Danny decides to leave Watcher hanging and mildly admire the black Arbutus wood with glowing blue carvings across it, legit looked pretty hecking cool. Clocky’s stiff pinstriped staff design wouldn’t exactly suit Danny’s quirkiness. The prehnite crystal on top was a definitively spooky pale opac green with green glowing falling feathers inside; at least the green in green didn’t look weird.
Danny shrugging after a bit and reach out to grab it, the three little silver bells secured by blue leather rope surrounding the crystal chiming slightly from the jostling. Danny furrowing his brows a little and sniffing at said bells; ignoring the twitching in his limbs from connecting to the artifact. Huh, well that smells a heck of a lot like sandalwood and frankincense; eh there was probably some inside. Danny is absolutely blaming the dangling red and green feathers on Ghost Writer giving him a fucking quill though.
Shrugging Danny leans the thing lazily on his shoulder and pointedly makes a point to not react even slightly to the weird pulsing come from in towards his core. Little uncomfortable but not nearly as uncomfortable as being impaled by a giant fishhook. Or mauled by a tiger. Or watching his dad disco dance in public. Little more uncomfortable than Lancer’s attempts to be ‘hip’ and ‘cool’ and ‘relatable’.
Danny thinks he’s being glared at again. ClockWork is absolutely smirking in the stands. Danny also not reacting to a cloak magically poofing into existence attached to his neck is probably annoying the Observants even more. Ha, suck on that. He is the unphaseable one! Phased by nothing! Who is also apparently king of knowledge! Lord of knowing! Yet stupid enough to show up with his clothes backwards more than once (how the fuck did he accidentally wear a jacket backwards and not notice it? Seriously self. Gosh). He does glance at the cloak though, lifting up one side judgingly. Chuckling, “black with blue stitching? What? No green to accent my eyes?”.
“We do not choose the appearance”.
Danny rolls his eyes, “yeah no fucking shit. Blue’s an educational, or whatever the fuck, colour”, tilting his head, “and Lancer’s why I even know that. Huh”. Poetry symbolism was useful for something he guesses. Oh and the clasp is a quill, goddamn that Ghost Writer. Fuck. He’s definitely ignoring whatever symbolism might be behind the slightly bondage harness-looking triple straps going across his chest, he doesn’t want to know honestly. The hood tip zig-zagging like a lightning bolt is supremely obvious though. Like, painfully obvious. patting it a little and looking back to the Observant, “so this all the shit? Don’t feel like fucking with my half-life any further?”.
Watcher almost audibly sighs, turns to borderline glare at ClockWork, “dress your child, ClockWork”. ClockWork grins and pretends not to hear them for a second before floating down.
Danny is perfectly content to let his ClockPops ruffle up his hair, both of them side-eyeing Watcher with mean smirks while ClockWork boops Danny on the cheek with their staff; Danny letting their energy mess with his appearance more than willingly. Suddenly his tailcoat is on him in ghost form, which yeah feels a little weird. An (ecto-ha) green frilled poet blouse underneath with little cufflinks that have ghost pipes (ha!) on them. Crushed black velvet trousers, straight cut and wide/baggy. Silver armoured boots and gloves, which fine, he’s a combative motherfucker. He can also feel some shit going on with his hair, a quick pat-down proving that apparently ClockWork decided he needed some flowers in his hair. Goddamn better be ghost pipes. Danny chuckling, “nice, Clocky”; they smirk lightly and fondly at him.
“But of course, Daniel”.
Watcher does their little hand-wavey glittery thingy taking an in-time ‘photo’ of him to send out through the realm, because bitch there be a new Guardian. Danny just chuckles, “can I go now?”.
“We’d prefer you did”.
Danny snorts, throws a peace sign and finger guns before just fucking off entirely. Him turning away to stalk off making the cloak swish in the air which reveals that the end is, like, curled up into something resembling a scroll. Fucking symbolism, Ancients.
-
Turning human when he gets back reveals the cloak changes to light blue with black stitching, well that’s convenient. Seeing as technically he’s supposed to wear the thing whenever he’s doing his ‘job’ so it changing with his forms is probably for the best. Phantom’s the Ambassador, Fenton’s the Sovereign Wisdom. Plus wearing a cloak to school is totally a weird quirky thing to do, which is perfectly up his alley. Sick as shit too. He’s gonna wear the hood down while human, up and tucked right behind his ears while Phantom; just for that little added difference. Danny had some sense of self-preservation. His clothing is still exactly what his ClockPops gave him… well okay the shoes look slightly more dress shoey than like straight-up knight's boots; eh that’s probably for the best too. Less noisy. And a head pat-down shows that the flowers have gone, good seeing as Sam would mock him relentlessly otherwise.
Whelp, he’s going home now. Because fuck doing anything else. Seriously. A quick check of his phone, however, reveals that Lancer actually got back to him.
Lance: for future reference, Daniel, please reframe from ‘getting ghost arrested’ during school hours.
Lance: I would appreciate a call, after hours of course.
Danny chuckles and shakes his head a little, eh might as well do that on his walk home. “Sup, Lance. I do not have another arrest on my record and I also did not destroy another jail”.
“I do hope that is not sarcastic, but I’m glad you’re alright from the sounds of it”.
Danny snorts, kicking a rock down the road, “nope. No sarcasm here. Perfectly fine. Just had to stand and talk in front of an entire colosseum of ghost cops slash judges and get my sentence”, snickering to himself, “now see that was sarcastic. Well, mostly. Really it was just me getting acknowledgement, or whatever, for basically teaching ‘the mortals’”.
That actually gets Lancer laughing a little, “well my job offer was never meant to get you in trouble or cause you hassle, though I doubt you mind much”.
Danny huffs and rolls his eyes, glaring at the stoplight to hurry the fuck up, “considering this let me annoy the absolute fuck out of the Observants? Zone no I don’t mind. Also I have a cloak now, that I am required to wear. So have fun with that school uniform upgrade”.
“Oh? I can’t wait to see, Daniel. I’m sure you’ll make the appearance work, so long as you don’t show up in a hazmat jumpsuit”.
Okay that one Danny has to laugh at, loudly, “yeah, no, that’ll never happen!”. He might love his suit but wearing anything remotely similar while human was just begging for trouble. Actively and explicitly.
“Good, good. Now I’m sure after all that excitement you’ve got work to do, so since I know you’re fine I’ll let you go”.
Danny smirks, “oh Ancients no, I’m going to bed and napping like the dead”.
“Bye, Daniel”.
Danny chuckles as the man hangs up, got ‘em with the death jokes.
---
Sam snickers and pokes Danny on the cheek, him flipping around in the air to avoid her prodding fingers, pouting at her, “meanie”. Now some may wonder why is she pestering him? well because an early morning flight revealed that the flower hair was still a thing and was likely to be a permanent thing at that. Fun. And he can’t even really be mad, because it’s basically a gift from Clocky. Ever rare and always cherished… by him at least.
Tucker goes and flicks one, “at least they’re ghostly”. Earning an eyeroll from Danny, “har har har, though fully agreed”, looking to Sam, “I am so looking forward to a confused and panicked call from Vlad. Because this-”, gesturing to his entire body, which while is back to his jumpsuit, he is still rocking the cloak and the staff’s stuck in a little solid prehnite ring, “-is not ‘standard halfa physical changes’ and we know how Vlad pays waaaaaaay too much attention to my physical appearance”.
Sam barks a laugh, “he pays more attention than you do”.
“In my defence, Vladdie’s got all the time in the world to be a weird nosey bastard. I, however, am a busy busy man”.
Tucker puts a hand to his chest, “if only you could work from home like me”; earning him a smack over the head from Sam. Danny just chuckles, transforming back human and planting his one good foot on the ground, “that’s only because they decided you’d be too much of a security and safety threat otherwise”.
“That changes nothing”.
Danny throwing his arms around their shoulders as they walk into the school. The administration just ignores them and doesn’t even try to force his two friends to get visitors badges, knew a lost cause when they saw one. Danny glances from one to another, “so you two just sitting in for funsies?”.
Sam rolls her eyes while Tucker chuckles, “Hell yeah why not”. Which Danny just laughs at while using their shoulders as support to lift himself off the ground, swing his legs up, and double kicks open his classroom door.
Ashley jumps, startled, and joins the rest of the class in staring at him before muttering, “Uh, how is it that we’re almost always here slightly before you”.
Danny scoffs, “because I’m chill like that”, while his friends carry him to and drop him into his seat before wandering to the back of the classroom. Danny holds up a finger, “also-”, throwing his one leg up onto the desk, gesturing at his armoured ‘dress shoes’ because yes, he’s still wearing Clocky’s gifts, “-I broke my leg in three separate places this morning. Fun, I know, no need to be jealous. Also got in a little light stabbing because I may have put a little too much effort into sassing someone”.
Valerie sighs very audibly and painfully, “Danny, why? Just why?”, she has long since learned to not care all that much about his injuries. His contamination whisked them away like magic anyway.
Emilie snorts, “I’m more interested in the fucking cloak”. Which Amber absolutely chimes in on, “talk about a fashion don't”. Danny points at her, “hey f̵̶uc̡k̶͝͞ you”; earning more than a couple laughs. Danny shrugging, “anyway, cloaky grants me special knowledge powers so I am officially ‘wise’”. That gets him an eraser to the head, which Danny ignores as he keeps talking, “the ghosties decided that teaching you ghost thingies is officially my job”.
Valerie stares at him, “… but that’s already your job”. Danny shrugs, “eh ghosts like to feel superior”.
Dash throws his hands out, completely derailing the conversation, “what? Are you not going to pink slip Jesse for the eraser?”. Danny smirks at his former bully, “nope. I do have one with your name on it if you’d like though”. Dash scowls at him and Tucker’s laughter is absolutely a bit loud. Which gets James’s attention, him turning to the two, “and what about you two? Why are you here?”. Sam smirks, “living crutches”. Which really should have been the obvious answer to everyone.
Danny beams, “yup! Waaaaay better than some s͟h̴̛it҉t̛y̵̧͜ wood. And yes I got hired by ghosts to do the thing that I already got hired by humans to do, am I changing the lesson plans because of that? Haha f͞u̴͜͟c͏͝k no. Now as for class, we’re gonna talk forbidden knowledge because I am feeling petty”. Which yes, people laugh at.
-
Barely halfway through Charles just kind of barges in, fuck Danny needs to redo his booby traps. Charles looking him up and down, smirking, “oh I so had to see this. Tell me you are starting a cult without telling me you’re starting a cult”. Danny blinks hard at that before bursting out laughing, pointing at him and deadpanning, “yes”.
Emilie beams and sits up straight, “oh we should absolutely all wear cloaks now, Hell yeah”. Amber glares at her, “I’d rather drop out”. Valerie just rolls her eyes at the preppy girl.
Danny looks to the girls, “a couple Christians have already made it their mission to report me daily for satanic indoctrination so that would have some interesting end results”. Charles chuckles, “oh this so is a cult, and if you were a spawn of satan I wouldn’t even be surprised”, then quickly closes the door.
Dale chuckles awkwardly, “I think one thing this class has taught me is that Mr. Trent is way weirder than I thought”. Danny snorts, “oh you have no idea, the things that man has asked me”. He also had a feeling the man tried to break into his house/bedroom once because he got over-excited about some curiosity of his. Shrugging, “back to illegal dealings with guardians and how our mayors a d̶̢i̶͠c̶̨͝k҉͏w͢e̷͟a͏şl̛͘e͘…”.
He doesn’t even get to speak for ten minutes before fucking Vlad bursts in. Danny really needs to re-booby trap that fucking door. Damn. Too bad Vladdie wasn’t in ghost form, then the anti-ghost coating on the door would have at least done something to keep out the rich nutter.
“Daniel, what the Gouda have you gotten yourself involved in now?”.
Danny looks to him slowly, gestures to his class dramatically, “excuse you, frootloop? I mean, timing. But Ancients, chill your tits. Could this not wait twenty f͜͟u̶̕c̸̢͝kin̸g̢̨ minutes? f͞u̴͜͟c͏͝k”. Vlad just glares at him.
Dash leans over to Dale, “the Zone is the mayor doing here?”. Dale just shrugs. Todd snickers meanly, “maybe Danny pissed him off too, because the mayor sure as shit isn’t here to see your shitty ass, Dash”.
“Fuck you”.
“Screw off, Todd”.
Todd just smirks smugly to himself instead of responding to either jock.
Emilie snickers, “maybe he felt Danny talking about him and was summoned”.
Sam smirks to herself, inspects her nails, and deadpans, “it’s cult powers”. Which lots of people actually make ‘ahhh’ and ‘hmmm’ and other understanding agreeing sounds at.
Vlad scowls at the goth, “oh nothing so drab or petty”, actually walking up to Danny and lifting up the cloak, “I am talking of this”. Looking to Danny, “butter biscuits, Daniel”.
Danny snorts, “no I will not butter your biscuits”. Vlad absolutely subtly shoots him with an ecto-beam in his good legs knee. Fucker. Danny rolling his eyes, “the Observants are occasionally tolerable… tolerable-ish. And are occasionally capable of being mildly decent… decent-ish”. Vlad stares at him for a bit before shaking his head, “your desire to be tortured out of existence truly amazes me”, smirking, “if you wanted to suffer you could just fill out a request and I’d be happy to appease you”.
Valerie coughs and actively spits out some water. Dale quirks an eyebrow, “did… did the mayor just threaten to torture Danny?”.
Emilie starts cackling, “yes, yes he did!”.
Danny waves everyone off, “oh please, this is tame and lame”, looking back to Vlad, “I would but only if I could get payment in the form of feeding your internal organs to your cat”. Vlad actually chuckles faintly at that and shakes his head almost fondly. Pulling on his suit jacket to straighten it, “well I guess you’re perfectly well, albeit stupid, but well. I’ll leave you to your… duties”.
“It’s only a duty if I make someone crap their pants”.
Vlad actually stops with his hand on the doorknob at that, looking back, “a poop joke, Daniel? Really?”. Danny just smirks and finger guns while Vlad leaves.
Danny glancing at the clock, “whelp, continuing this class is pointless”, shrugging and looking around at everyone, “I’m honestly amazed this hasn’t already come up yet but me and Vladdie have a very interesting family dynamic”.
Which results in multiple shouted, “FAMILY!?!?!?!?”, comments from everyone.
Valerie rolls her eyes and glances around, “he’s Danny’s godfather”. Danny beams and nods, “yup! And that I’m his chosen heir”.
Dash stares and mutters, “what the fuck”, at that; which, fair. Danny just chuckles meanly at him while the bell rings.
Amber walks up to him through, twirling her hair a little, “so are you, like, rich?”. Danny can absolutely tell people are taking their time to leave class just to hear his response. So Danny smirks, “whole fam is. FentonWorks makes a lot of money. Plus! the government pays us”.
Dale looks almost horrified and Dash is just muttering, “what the fuck”, to himself repeatedly. Amber shaking her head, “well you coulda said something”. Which Danny tolls his eyes at.
Sam doesn’t let him respond though, her snapping, “and what? Have all you people liking and ‘befriending’ him purely because of something so goddamn shallow? As if. Danny -Ancients we are better than that”. Amber, Dash, and Dale all make offended noises; Emilie and Todd can be heard laughing out in the hall. Fuck, Danny’s pretty sure he even hears Hanna loudly cackling out there and she’s not even in his class or even still in school still. Here to hang out with Emilie perhaps? Danny just keeps on smirking as everyone finally leaves and his door clicks shut.
Is he surprised when Vlad suddenly regains visibility next to his desk with crossed arms? Ancients no, fully fucking expected. Even Tuck and Sam are unphased, though they do chuckle to themselves a little while glaring mistrustfully at the man. Danny sighs and looks to the man, “Vlad, I’m fine”, gesturing around at the empty classroom, “all of this just apparently made me qualified to become a Guardian, a Guardian of knowledge”.
Vlad scowls at that.
“And also apparently I’m the ambassador of ghosts now?”.
Now that makes Vlad blink, “and you weren’t already?”.
“That’s what I said!”, waving a hand dismissively at Vlad, “it’s not like you were going to do that”.
Vlad shakes his head, “indeed”, frowning, “but ‘Guardian’? Really, Daniel”. Tucker coughs into his hand, “oooh someone's jealous”. Vlad barely dignifies that with a quick glare.
Danny shrugs, “eh it is what it is”, finger gunning, “but don’t you worry, Vladdie, I’ve still got that claim to the High Throne”.
“Unfortunate”.
Danny laughs, “to you maybe”, summoning out his staff from the ring and holding it lazily behind his neck to rest his head on it, “but for now I do the shitty duty of teaching”. Vlad glares at him for that repeat joke/joke reference. It was pretty crappy, ha ha.
Vlad purses his lips after a second, “well I could lend my expertise in that regard-”.
Danny snorts and cuts him off, “trying to ‘get in the good graces of a Guardian’ will not get you out of the very bad graces of the Observants”.
Vlad rolls his eyes though seems slightly disappointed, “as if my reasons would be so people-pleasing. You know I’m not the type”.
Sam audibly scowls, “oh we know”.
Danny, however, grins meanly, “now you can certainly be a guest speaker just to piss them off”, holding up a finger, “let’s make it about ghost portals and the effect they’ve had between realms”.
Vlad smirks at him, “you are playing with fire, dear boy”. Danny knows the man’s going to make his folks look bad, but honestly? hurting his parents' reputation was impossible and no one would be even slightly surprised. Also yes, he’s aware that basically having the two halfas discuss the very thing that made them halfas was actively asking for it. Sam and Tuck shake their heads in the background while halfa and halfa shake hands.
(Informing Lancer of this resulted in him genuinely questioning if Danny and Vlad were getting along these days, so guess Lancer also noticed his hostility towards the mayor, not that that was hard. Lancer was a bit confused by the fact that the town mayor was into the ecto-sciences though).
---
Apparently Charles, and maybe Danny’s entire class, took the ‘cult’ thing a little too seriously or maybe just had a little too much fun with the idea over the next week because now he’s been called into Lancer’s office to talk about starting a cult. Fuck.
Danny poking his head in and waving awkwardly, “heeeeeeey Lance-y”. Lancer just glares at him and sighs deeply, so Danny goes and takes a seat, “soooooo, I swear I didn’t actually start a cult this time”.
Lancer quirks an eyebrow, “‘this time’?”.
“Eh, it’s happened”. At Lancer’s pained expression Danny adds on, “hey, you knew full well what you were getting into. I keep reminding you of this”.
“And yet you keep one-upping yourself”. Danny finger guns and winks at that. Lancer shakes his head, “regardless, yes I’ve been getting a lot of concerned calls regarding cult behaviour. Though some are clearly just taking any excuse to complain about you specifically”.
“Yeah a lot of adult adults really hate my guts for some reason”.
“I couldn’t imagine why that would be, Daniel”. Lancer shakes his head again before digging in his desk and pulling out some papers, “so now you and I are going to be making up letters addressing this and sending them out to all the parents”.
Danny’s sags back in his chair and groans, “ah come on, man! This is Charles’s fault! Not mine!”.
“I’m sure you encouraged it”.
Danny gives a very petulant and pouty, “…maybe”, perking up a little, “but so did literally everyone else”.
“Students can get away with it, you, as a teacher, can not”.
Danny pouts at him again, “boo. Boo to you”. Which gets him glared at before Lancer hands him letters to work on. This is gonna suck ass. Fuck him.
-
Did writing up letters suck? YES. MAJORLY. But Danny was honestly cackling now seeing as Lancer let him read all the complaint letters. Some claiming he was certainly coding classes with hidden satanic messages of murder to increase the ghost population. Others claiming he was teaching them to torture people; which wasn’t entirely wrong, how to harm a ghost could be also used to torture them or a human technically. And a couple claiming he WAS a ghost, which was just straight-up true. There was two insisting that a priest needs to be present for his classes, which fuck no; he’s already had one too many run-ins with holy-water-rosary-clutching types.
Danny leaning back and chuckling, “people are crazy”.
“Coming from you?”.
Danny points at Lancer, “hey, crazy knows crazy”. Lancer puts his hands up in surrender.
---
Did Danny feel like having a guy who arguably could have actually become a cult leader if he wanted to guest speak the day after the letters went out was actively being spiteful? Yes. Though the fact that this happened on the day that Walker curb stomped his throat also felt spiteful. (Was Danny wearing crust punk pants again today? Absolutely, purely because of the multiple anti-cop patches on it). Danny clearing his throat painfully and using his quill to write on the board, ‘cheese head will be doing the talkie walkie today. Don’t play with portals kids’, and draws an arrow pointing at Vlad before sticking the thing back into his hair.
At least half the class quirks their eyebrows at him so he croaks out, “got throat curb-stomped by the po-po”. Vlad chuckles, “your timing is impeccable”. Danny flips him off while putting a little triangle of paper on the side of his desk reading ‘return books here ditto with the essay thingies on them’. Surprisingly almost all of them were undamaged. Val’s was a little singed and stained, Dash’s had a coffee ring on the cover, and Dale’s looked like it had been burned on a stove element; but Todd’s literally had the pages all torn out of the hardcover, it was obviously intentional.
Vlad eyes the stack for a second before actually addressing everyone, while the class tries not to be weird -or actively tries to murder him with her mind in Valerie’s case- over the mayor freaking Vlad Master, near richest man on the planet, teaching their freaking class. “For those of you that don’t know, which I imagine is all of you, I worked with Daniel’s parents in the ecto-field back in college”. That earns the man a round of coughs and disbelieving staring. Danny just nods to confirm the man’s statement.
Vlad speaks sounding truly pained, “Jack couldn’t make anything that didn’t go horribly wrong if his life depended on it, and that’s how he got me sent to the hospital for seven years with ecto-acne and didn’t even bother to visit”. Danny has to try really hard not to laugh at him. “I will find and force-fed you nails if you say anything, Daniel”. Which honestly just makes it harder not to mock the man relentlessly.
Todd speaks up for him though, “wow sounds like someone’s pissy, bet it was your fault actually”. Vlad glares at him, “coming from a child who’s going to get abducted by a man who wears glasses and a ratty scarf tonight”. Everyone gives Vlad some very confused looks and Danny has to put his head down and wheeze slightly painfully into his desk. This was a good idea. Also a horrible one, but whatever.
Vlad shakes his head, “Jack was the one who decided to power up a prototype ghost portal in my face, I will have you know”. Danny sticks up a finger and mutters, “diet pop in filtrator”. Earning a glance from Vlad, “that fudging imbecile”.
Emilie snickers, “I think the mayor hates Danny’s dad just a little bit”. More than a couple fellow teens nod.
Vlad then goes and erases Danny’s whiteboard writing and draws out an over detailed diagram of a man made protal and a natural one. Danny rolls his eyes at the overkill, but Vlad was nothing if not highly excessive. Who shows up to ‘teach’ in a fucking Armenian suit? Danny’s pretty sure the buttons are solid rubies, like, for Ancients sake.
“Natural or artificial some basic rules, that even the simple-minded can follow, are the same. Don’t create a portal in front of someone’s face. Don’t walk inside of one and then activate it-”. Danny doesn’t so much as move when Vlad smacks the side of his head, ever since Vlad found out that that was how Danny half-died the crazy nutter has given him shit for it at every opportunity. So he saw the head smack coming a mile away.
Dale chuckles, “looks like Danny’s a dumbass”. Dash snickering meanly, “what’s new”. Danny absolutely holds up a pink slip over that. “Oh come on!”, Dash sags in his desk grumpily; you’d think the guy would learn. Vlad’s just smirking faintly before continuing, “don’t walk through randomly. And don’t tie a string to it and another person in an attempt to make the portal follow them”, Vlad smacks Danny over the head again. Danny has a feeling Vlad’s annoyed with him today for some reason. It couldn't possibly be that Danny replaced the water in his water bed with wet cement just before he went to bed two days ago, could it? Never mind, Danny knows that is exactly why. Fuck that was funny.
“Hey, it worked”.
“It really should not have, Daniel”.
“Cloning also shouldn’t work yet here we are”.
Vlad glares at him but continues talking at everyone, “another basic rule is that if the portal is any colour other than green, leave it alone; the town and I will not cover whatever happens if you don’t…”.
Vlad actually manages to get to go on for a while without being actively petty towards Danny or starting a mild bickering match with him. Danny’s honestly a little impressed. Vlad also gets almost overexcited repeatedly, very much proving he’s a scientist at heart while also clearly forgetting he’s talking to teenagers; more than a few things clearly go over everyone’s head. Val still looks like she’s plotting murder though; Danny can admire the tenacity.
But when Danny straightens out a bit from his ghost sense going off Vlad sighs, picks him up by his cloak collar and just walks him to stick out the window, unceremoniously dropping him. Danny screaming, “WHAT THE FU̢C̶͞҉K͟! FU̢C̶͞҉K͟ YOU!”, as he falls and hits the bushes below with a thud. Vlad leaning his head out to reply, “you were going to leave anyways, thought I would simply hurry the whole process up. I do know how lazy and tardy you can be”.
“I WILL PISS IN YOUR FRIDGES FANCY ICE-MAKING COMPARTMENT!”.
Vlad doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead turning back to the class with a smirk, “so on how to topple the ghost government…”. The class stares at him in shock and amusement at the sudden subject change. Valerie just stares with even more hatred now knowing full well he set her up during the Pariah incident when he gave her that ring. She does throw an ‘are you okay’ text to Danny though, which he responded with ‘I smell like bush’ to.
What’s really sad is that Danny got dropped in a bush from the second story of a building because the Box Ghost was having a lovers quarrel with The Lunch Lady in the park. By the time Danny got there it had descended into a full-blown food fight involving boxed-only foods. More than a few townsfolk had even joined in, and honestly? Danny said fuck it -not out loud ‘cause fuck his throat still hurt- and just joined in the chaos.
Vlad could handle a class of teenagers and if the man tried anything then Val wouldn’t hesitate to outright commit attempted murder.
Did Boxy win the food fight? No, obviously not. The Lunch Lady wasn’t super powerful but she still outclassed The Box Ghost’s ass. Danny finger gunning at the box-themed man who’s currently covered in crackers, “I’d buy her something nice before she decides to fill all your boxes with enough meat to make them rounded”. The Box Ghost looks completely scandalised and insulted, “you don’t think she would”.
“Oh she would, Boxy. She absolutely would”. Considering that women caused a meat tsunami purely because Sam wouldn’t eat meat…
The Box Ghost flies off in a hurry and Danny gets to back to his class with literal armfuls of boxed goods. He also got to discover that Vlad could not handle a class of teens who were now discussing how to overthrow Vlad from the mayoral office to the mains dismay and insult. Vlad looking at him, “your students are demons. Suiting”. Danny just chucked a box of frootloops at him.
(Apparently and according to the Ghost Writer, the Observants went and gave Walker shit for interfering with his Guardian duties. Danny was absolutely tickled green by this news. The Ghost Writer, however, was not happy about Todd’s apparent intentional destruction of a book; Danny doesn’t envy Todd who did, in fact, get abducted that night).
Chapter 6: Feather Quills And ‘Tests’ To Fill
“Danny, you’re overthinking this”.
Danny sighs and leans back in his chair, groaning very loudly at his bedroom ceiling before looking to his sister, who was, as per usual, attempting to be helpful… helpful-ish. “But this is the final, it’s kinda a big fucking deal. And considering how fucking splendidly I usually did on those things, how the FUCK am I writing one up? Plus, like, how do I condense this shit? Do you know how many subjects I wound up covering? Too fucking many!”.
Jazz hums encouragingly at him so he just keeps on ranting, which was probably exactly what she wanted.
Danny gesturing a hand around wildly, “ecto-biology, ecto-linguistics, ecto-medicare, ecto-history slash ecto-culture, ecto-psychology slash ecto-behaviouralism, ecto-literature, ecto-mechanics… Too fucking many”, sighing and sagging, “also pretty sure I just made up, like, all those names”.
Jazz giggles a little, “ecto-Medicare is accurate, though I have a feeling you explained far more than just treating ecto-burns or regular ecto-contamination”. Danny snaps his fingers at her, “well obviously, might as well teach the fuckers how to treat a ghost and not just humans affected by ecto stuff”.
“A roundabout way to achieve self-preservation. Should any of them stumble across an injured Phantom”.
Danny pointing aggressively at her, “hey, none of that”. Jazz just could not chill it with the psychoanalysing. She just grins at him like she’s done nothing wrong. Him sighing again and just staring up at his ceiling, randomly mentally drawing out the constellations his glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars made.
Jazz getting up and ruffling his head jerks him out of his ceiling watching though, “hey!”, him flailing his hands around to shoo her off which, as per usual, just makes her giggle at him fondly; which he absolutely pouts at her over. Her speaking up after a bit, “you know, if you find a proper written test so annoying you could just simply do something more unconventional”, her beaming a bit smugly, “my advanced abnormal psychology prof didn’t even make a final at all”.
Danny rolls his eyes, “yeah but that’s university, they can do that. And as awesome as it is that you got to start break early, they should have kept you”, and smirks while she shoves him one.
“Now that was just mean, Danny”. Shaking her head and going back to sitting on his bed, “but I am serious. Do a final project, or just an essay”.
Danny glares slightly, “essays as finals are the goddamn worst, I would never”; she rolls her eyes at that.
“I prefer them actually”, nodding to herself, “far more room for exploring ideas and showing your prof your personality”.
Danny grumbling, “more like how to really rub it in when someone doesn’t know everything perfectly”. Sighing after a bit, because she did have a point. Tests were fucking bullshit and did a shitty ass job of doing literally anything other than telling how good someone’s short-term memory was. Becoming more opinionated about how schools do schooling is one side-effect of this teacher thing that he so did not see coming. Eh whatever, not like he isn’t right. But what the fuck else can he even do? What could even qualify as ‘finals’ worthy? He sure as shit isn’t doing oral presentations, those things were like a mild form of torture… unless you were a drama kid, which Danny was not. Sure he didn’t have to worry about whatever the fuck being an absolute clusterfuck because a regular-ass test would be a clusterfuck anyway since he basically covered the ghostly version of EVERYTHING, EVERY SUBJECT AVAILABLE IN SCHOOL… except math. Fuck math. What kind of nightmare test jumps from laws of an alternate death dimension to ghostly art? Ghost hunger followed right up by portal safety? Plus, does he even remember everything he taught? Ha ha FUCK NO! What, in any world, would make anyone think otherwise. A ‘project’ would totally help deal with that issue. Grumbling, “how would I even have a project that covers everything?”.
Jazz humming to herself and tapping her chin, “well you could have them go fishing for blob ghosts through a portal?”.
Danny blinks a bit harshly, what the fuck? Looking to her, “Jazz… what the Zone kind of Uni friends have you been making?”. Though he guesses that anything involving blob ghosts would cover a tone of shit. And it’s not like he hasn’t talked a literal fuck ton about blob ghosts. They were like a go-to example/comparison tool.
Jazz shrugs, “my dorm-mate likes to fish dangerous fish”. Danny just blinks, well that sorta? explained it. Sorta.
“What kinda fish”.
“She kept a displayed piranha”.
Danny whistles at that, damn, “guess Amity’s not the only land of crazies”. She laughs a little at that and nods with slightly crinkled eyes.
Danny uses his foot to push himself around in his chair, grumbling incoherently to himself. He did kinda like the idea of dragging blob ghosts into his problems, but taking people portal fishing -snort- was just ridiculous even by his standards. Not that Charles hadn’t ‘gone fishing’ in his desk to get his hands on one; yes Danny’s still a little miffed about that, but hey, at least the man kept his grubby hands out of his desk ever since.
Blinking, wait a fucking minute…
Grinning, Danny stops spinning and loudly slams his hands down on his desk repeatedly, “HA! Pet ghosts!”. Jazz shakes her head good-naturedly, “not sure the school will go for an adopt-a-ghost program as a final”.
Danny points at her and snaps his fingers repeatedly and a bit excitedly, “no no no no no no. Blob ghosts. Catch your own blob ghost. Keeping It ‘alive’ would cover almost everything, catching It would cover most else, and naming It, like, a ghost name in ghost speak could be the whipped cream on top!”.
“Danny, how are you going to get all the parents to even agree to that?”. Glaring at him when he smirks, “without abusing overshadowing”. Danny actively pouts at that. He does have an actual answer though, “oddly most of them take me seriously or respect me some. Weird, I know”, sighing slightly and tilting his head, “Sophia’s still hate my guts though”.
Jazz laughs at him, “so what you’re saying is that they are not going to approve”.
“When does everyone ever approve of the shit I do? Get the majority vote and everyone else can just suck it up”.
“See that is likely part of why they apparently hate you”.
Danny flips her off for that one.
Jazz shaking her head and getting up, “regardless, feel like treating your very proud big sister to dinner?”. Danny rolls his eyes fondly and sighs like this is just so much effort and such a massive hassle while getting up, “fine. But we’re going to the Soup And Ham Can because their coffee’s good”. That earns him an eye roll right back as they head out of his room.
---
Now see Danny wasn't stupid or mean, he damn well looked around town to make sure that a bunch of teens could feasibly capture some blob ghosts… without ghostly superpowers. And yeah he also did the responsible thing of actually doing the proper paperwork which made him feel super old and simultaneously like he was too young to do this kind of shit. He’s eighteen and ‘doing paperwork’? Fuck. It so didn’t help that he accidentally complained about paperwork around Vlad, which turned into the elder halfa complaining about his own paperwork; which both of them got just mildly weirded out by. Vlad still thought of him as a child after all, and Vlad was absolutely an old man in Danny’s eyes. It was fucking weird. Vlad did get a little smug about Danny ‘being like him because there’s no way that fool Jack did any paperwork’, which did cause the entire encounter to turn into a minor fistfight. Regardless of the man being right or not.
At least Danny was stronger than the man these days, and both of them were well aware of that. Which honestly? might be part of why Vlad chilled the fuck out.
Anyway, said paperwork that’s making him feel old is absolutely why he’s getting an early morning Lancer call. Has to be. Unless Danny absentmindedly destroyed something without knowing it… which was always a fair possibility.
“Daniel, I’ll admit this is probably the most interesting request I’ve ever received as a finals alternative and I can’t say I’m particularly surprised that you’d rather forgo a formal written final”.
Danny snickering and leaning against the park's water fountain, “hey you know me, I like to keep things lively in the deadly kinda way”.
“And so long as blob ghosts aren’t capable of being deadly then I don’t see a reason to deny this. But this can not interfere with other classes, as in, they can not bring ‘awesome pet ghosties’ to their other classes”.
Danny snorts at that, yeah no fucking shit, “well duh, Lance. That would be asking for trouble especially with Charles”.
Lancer audibly sighs, nearly groans actually, on the other end, “now I don’t doubt that. And because I don't want any possibly ecto-contaminated paper from FentonWorks making its way into the students' homes, I already sent out the permission slips”.
Danny blinks, well damn, appreciated he guesses? Blinking again, “huh, well ah, thanks, Lance, I guess. I’m taking it that you just mailed them out though and that I still have to actually tell my own class of fellow teens that they have mandatory pets now?”. That gets a chuckle out of the man.
“You requested this, Daniel, now you have to deal with it. Though somehow I think you’ll be getting ‘thank you’s rather than annoyed groaning and complaining”.
Danny chuckles, “hey if you want everyone to like you more you shouldn’t assign so much work”.
“I’d be doing you teens a disservice”.
Danny rolls his eyes at that one, the man was dedicated he’ll give him that much. “Not ‘fully grasping literary genius’ isn’t really gonna affect anyone negatively, Lance. I’d definitely rather sleep than brush up on your beloved Shakespeare”.
“It’s good for the mind”.
“So’s sleep”, snorting, “and I missed enough of that as it is”.
“Now that I can agree and attest to, considering your class habits. I’ll let you go”.
Danny blinks at his phone, well that was abrupt. Fucking rude. Eh, it’s not like Danny didn’t fuck off randomly all the time. Oh well. Sighing and pushing off of the fountain, “whelp, guess I know what I’m stuck doing tomorrow… or the day after tomorrow? Fuck, what day even is it?”.
Hint: it was Friday. And Danny, like a dumbass, forgot to even attempt to show up for class.
“Ah well. Fuck”.
It probably says a lot that Lancer didn’t even bother cussing him out for that. Should he feel ashamed? embarrassed? at least a little guilty? Probably. Does he? Honestly, no. He stopped feeling guilty about that kind of shit a long ass time ago. Being a little half-dead hero that has to tap out constantly and lie all the time kinda does that to you after a hot minute or two. Which probably wasn’t exactly healthy. But also, it’s not like ‘healthy’ was really a thing he was familiar with these days. Eh, whatever.
Anyway, time for a night fly/patrol.
---
So now it was Monday and Danny officially has to ‘face the music’ or whatever the fuck.
To bad Technus got fancy with the house's microwave and basically destroyed half of Danny’s bedroom. Meaning he couldn’t even look good… good-ish. He absolutely gets some smug pride from the fact that him going to his ‘professional job’ in tattered clothes would piss Vlad off something fierce though. Actually deciding to stick with wearing a pair of pants with one leg torn off so badly that his boxers were able to be seen probably wasn’t the world's smartest idea. At least his shitty Antichrist button-up t-shirt was intact! … More or less anyways. (It was missing a pocket and maybe the bottom wasn’t quite the same shape it once was but he’s not too sure about that bit). The cloaks perfectly fine of course, being ghostly clothing and all.
Pushing the classroom door open with his foot, “alright little ectoplasm knowledge nuggets, we actually have some housekeeping s̷͞h̷i͞ţ̧ to see to so…”.
Val doesn’t even let him actually get to the whiteboard, “so what was up with Friday?”.
Emilie leans back in her seat, “yeah, the only class that’s actually neat is also the one class with a tardy teach”.
Danny points at her, “hey, I resent that statement of truth”, finishing his walk to the board and smacking it, “honestly? I forgot”. Val just stares at him so he winks at her, earning him a scowl and a thrown pencil; which he lets just bounce off his head. Pulling out his quill and striking it all the way down the board, the words ‘FINAL ASSIGNMENT’ magically forming.
Jesse shakes his head, “I still don’t understand that stupid quill”.
Brittney scoffing, “whatever, it’s not like he’ll give us one”. Danny snorts over his shoulder at that, “yeah, no s̷͞h̷i͞ţ̧”. Turning around dramatically enough to make the cloak fan out, “what’s also no s̷͞h̷i͞ţ̧ is that finals are a thing and that I also -like any sane teen- hate written exam s̷͞h̷i͞ţ̧, so we’re not doing that”.
To no ones surprise that announcement results in some smiles, some cheers, one or two fist pumps/high fives, and multiple relieved sighs.
Val chuckles and leans her chin on a palm, “yeah I was wondering how you were going to write some test that covered everything”. Danny absolutely chuckles and nods at that.
Plopping down onto the side of his desk, “so hear me out, since I’m obviously not writing some written thingamajig out and I’m not nearly enough of a sadist to make oral presentations a thing that’s happening”, clapping his hands together cheerily, “so instead y’all are gonna be ghost hunters for a bit”, shrugging, “or for however long it takes you to catch a blob ghost in our town”, tilting his head and tapping his chin, “which honestly shouldn’t take that long all things considered”.
The class just blinks at him for a bit before most burst out laughing.
Emilie wheezes a little, “you are one quirky fucker”. Valerie shaking her head, “here I thought you were about to ask us to catch a proper ghost”, smirking, “which I’m down for”.
Danny rolls his eyes, “as fun as it would be to torment Boxy by making fifteen odd teens repeatedly catch him, I doubt that would accomplish much”.
Todd puts his hands behind his head, “we can totally still do that”. Dale laughing, “HA! Yeah! That could be fun!”, and elbows Dash a couple of times which turns into a mild dude-bro shoving match. Todd snickers meanly at that before looking back at Danny, “and what’s up with the lame-ass underwear? Becoming a bad stripper or something”.
Danny rolls his eyes at the jab, “Technus got a little friendly with a microwave”.
“They’re green”. Apparently, Todd doesn’t give a flaming fuck about the ‘why’, just the colour. Figures.
Valerie rolls her eyes at the fake ass ‘bad boy’, “Danny’s a joke, of course they’re ecto-green”. Danny nodding and rolling his hand about in the air, “and besides, sleeping in phase-proof underwear is a pretty solid idea, all things considered”. That earns some understanding cringing from the class. Danny sticking up a finger, “just like having you lot bring me some captured but not destroyed-”, giving Val a meaningful look, “-spookies makes perfect sense for an ecto-ology final!”.
A couple of people shrug, Ashley muttering, “oh what the Hell”, toying with her fingers a little, “but does it have to be a big one?”.
Danny waves her off, “naw, so long as it’s in the blob family I don’t care”.
James sighs, leaning on a palm, “but why can’t we just do something normal? An essay?”.
Danny puts a hand to his chest in mock offence, “why I never! I just said I’m not a sadist”, waving a hand around, “and because, I am the true multimedia teacher of spooky academia, just handing out knowledge like a new kind of haemophilia. So I am creating g̵͡o͝d̶͡d͠҉am̛n͘҉ new educational finals criteria. Just don’t go getting into necrophilia on me”, and winks as everyone else groans.
Dustan muttering, “so much for not being a sadist”. Sophia sticks up a hand.
“Yes?”.
She plays with her fingers a little, “well, um, what about our parents?”.
James jumps in, “hey yeah, are we just supposed to keep a ghost in our rooms till finals week?”.
Dash scoffs, “aww is some scared of a little blob ghost”. James just rolls his eyes at that.
Danny shrugs, “eh Lance already sent out permission stuff so parent stuff’s already covered. And naw, catch one by…”, humming to himself, “… oh let’s say next Monday. Bring me proof”, holding up a finger, “but also don’t let the little bugger go. Because if you think all I’m asking is ghost capture then ho boy you’re wrong”. Let them make of that what they want. More than a few look slightly disturbed and he absolutely hears Ashley mutter something about dissection. Danny’s pretty sure Lancer wouldn’t let him get away with that. The blender stunt had been pushing it already, apparently there was a such thing as detention for teachers. Shudder.
Jesse glares at Danny then Valerie, “you better not be marking this on time because some of us have unfair advantages”.
Dash jumps in, “yeah! Little miss anti-ghost psycho probably fantasises about this!”.
Todd rolling his eyes, “as if you need to worry about that, you’d piss yourself before catching one anyway”.
“FUCK YOU!”.
Danny chuckles, his class was probably the only one where anyone could shout ‘FUCK YOU’ and not get in shit. Though Dash being ‘star football star McGee’ probably wouldn’t get in trouble for it in any class. Tch. “Now now, just g̵͡o͝d̶͡d͠҉am̛n͘҉ catch one”, shrugging, “don’t care how or when or colour or whatever the f̵̛u̕͞c̴̶̡k̶̨͠. Ancients, go climb a crane and fish one out of the bucket for all I care. But if you die, don’t haunt me”.
Val sighs, giving him an exasperated look, “great, now someone’s going to do exactly that”. Emilie laughing, “I call dibs!”. Making Val thump her head on her desk. Danny does at least give her an apologetic shrug, hey not his fault that people like to take him up on his bullshit to fuck around and find out.
(Did someone actually take him up on the crane idea? According to the news, yes, yes someone did. Danny’s personal bets are not on Emilie even if she did ‘dibs it’, it was probably one of the quiet kids honestly. At least they were smart enough to wear a disguise. So long as Lancer doesn’t find out…).
---
Danny groans face down in his bed, Lancer was in his bedroom. WHY?!?!?!? Well okay, he knew exactly why. Lancer specifically asked for Danny’s makeshift final to not interfere with other classes and what happened? Well apparently a blob ghost ate the cord to the old school projector that Joshep loved so much. BECAUSE OF COURSE THAT HAPPENED! Danny had some truly shit luck. Groaning again, “I didn’t ask them to randomly bring them to school!”, mumbling, “at least not until next week”. What dumbass caused his problem? Probably Todd honestly. Dash might want to shit kick him but the jock was not nearly petty/sneaky enough to ‘get Fenturd’ in this kind of roundabout way. Todd, however, was the definition of petty. Though Danny was a lot more petty; but he’s a ghost! He’s allowed to be!
Lancer sighs faintly, “you’re still the reason ultimately. Even if Joshep has little room to talk, considering how his class law experiment went”.
“You’re talking about the one that was a recreation of that prison psychology excitement thing? Because yeah, that was bad even by my standards and my experience with jailers involved a lot more tasers”.
“… Daniel, I explicitly remember you tasing people at that time even though you weren’t even in his class”. Danny can practically hear his technical boss shaking his head, “that doesn’t change that you owe Joshep a new projector, and I am not putting it on the FentonWorks tab”. Danny groans very loudly over that. Fuck.
Danny rolling over in his bed and just staring at the ceiling, “forcing me to spend the paycheck you give me on stuff for the school, smarmy shit”.
“That word doesn’t mean what I think you believe it does”.
Danny shrugs, “eh. And besides, Lance”, turning his head to actually look at the man, who quirks an eyebrow before Danny continues, “lords of knowledge, or whatever, should be allowed to ban finals because reasons”, putting a hand very egotistically to his own chest and trying to bleed ego, “a lord like me specifically”.
Lancer chuckles and shakes his head slowly, “I’m sure you would ban them if Id let you”.
“Oh yeah, no shit. In a frickin’ heartbeat-”.
Both of them pause and glance at the floor when a very loud explosion sounds and actually makes the floor shake a little. Not for the first time Danny’s glad he’s nailed/screwed down a large majority of the shit in his room. He even got those weird suction drinking cups that even he, with his ghostly strength, couldn’t slap over.
Barely seconds later his mom pushes open his door, smiling quickly at Lancer, “sweetie, Mr. Lancer, you may what to head outside”, rolling her eyes a bit fondly, “Jack, the dear, might have blown up the photon carbon ecto-endaton”.
Danny blinks, “you mean that new bomb thing? You guys actually blew up something that was supposed to blow up?”. His mom actually has the fucking balls to nod sheepishly. Lancer, however, is sweating unpleasantly.
They absolutely head outside.
Danny patting Lancer on the shoulder while they stand from the sidewalk watching smoke pour out the door/windows, “I’m guessing this’ll be the last time you make an unexpected house visit?”.
“… your home life worries still… this has not helped”.
“‘Life’! HA! Good one!… so will you not dying today count as payment enough?”.
“No, Daniel. Just no”.
“Damn. Was getting my hopes up for a second”.
Lancer glares at Danny a little before heading home; Danny cackles to himself a little. He may be paying for Joshep’s stupid projector love out of his own pocket, but at least he got to make someone -Lancer- regret their life choices in the process. His ghost sense going off tells him that he’s also going to get someone to regret their death choices. Nice. Two for one coupon.
---
Thankfully there were no other blob ghost-related incidences, that Danny heard about, before Monday.
“So did everyone catch a blob ghost?”. That question gets Danny a pretty solid round of ‘yes’s and people holding up blobs in jars or just waving around their phones to show pictures of their particular blob. Danny nodding to himself, “good good”, sounding ominous, “now your final can begin”.
Earning lots of concerned staring and worried glances at the present blob ghosts. Which makes sense, ominous-ness deserves at least some worry. Especially considering the things that usually followed Danny specifically being ominous.
Danny, content with his mild terrorising, actually explains himself while staring down his class like he’s some kind of government agency boss, “your assignment is thus, you will keep that blob ghost ‘alive’ until the twentieth. One full month. And you bet your knickers I’m gonna be tagging your suckers so I will know if you f̵̛u̕͞c̴̶̡k̶̨͠ it up and try to replace them”, glaring at the class comically, “you can keep it trucking however you see fit, use that knowledge! Bring It to hang around Cored ghost! Give It ecto food! Ecto-water! Use your imagination”, chuckling, “just don’t try creating a ghost portal to throw It in the Zone. That’s a real good way to die”.
Jasper grumbles, “yeah the freaking mayor was pretty clear about that”.
Amber purses her bubblegum pink lips, “and how do you plan to ‘tag them’? Half of us didn’t even bring ours!”, and huffs to herself. Danny smirks almost meanly and flops backwards in his chair to spin around more lazily in it, “I’m a teacher not a cop, meaning I don’t have any jobly standards against breaking and entering”.
Emilie snorts and starts snickering while Dash half shouts, “there’s no way a twerp like you has the guts!”. Dale shrugging, “well his freak folks do bust down walls all the time”.
“Still! Fenton’s a wimp!”, Dash grumbling to himself a little, “even if he’s manned up a little”, grumbling even quieter to himself, “… and some of the wimpiness was faked”.
Danny rolls his eyes, toying with yet another pink slip, “pinky pinky someone should keep their lips zippy zippy”. Earning death glares from Dash. Danny chuckling, “anyway, considering my lack of giving a s̛hi̸t̡ about school rules and whatnot you'd think me also lacking in the s̛hi̸t̡ giving department towards general laws would be some kind of a given”, shrugging, “eh whatever. I’ll tag your suckers and I’ll tag ‘em just right”, and smirks, turning back to face the whiteboard.
Valerie rolls her eyes and coughs a little, “well that wasn’t creepy at all, Danny”. Which really only makes Danny smirk more as he shoves himself out of his chair before going about writing up what in all this ‘final assignment’ even involved with his funky little quill. And while everyone goes about reading that shit he’ll walk around and ‘mark’ all the little blob ghosts, which sit all pretty and proper for him; being that he’s the strong ghosty here and being that they all ‘live’ in his wonderful little lair.
Brittney scowls at her blob, “why does It listen to you? Every time I touch It, It tries to bite me”, her attempting to pet It and getting almost bit in response feels like emphasis, and more than a few people nod at that. Danny just chuckles meanly, “because they fear me”, and moves on without explaining that at all.
Dash scowls and grumbles down at his desk, “as if anything fears him”. Which really just makes Danny smirk. Oh how wrong that was, in more ways than one. Which he wasn’t exactly always happy about. Danny did like certain fear, he was a ghost after all, and he definitely liked it if it was The Observants or Boxy’s fear. Just not genuine fear from the general population of humanity, Amity, the Zone, etcetera.
Danny popping back over to the board, “ookily dookily, now that that’s done and over with”, glancing at the class meanly, “I will get the rest of you later”, then back to the board, “now for actual class class s̛hi̸t̡. Which yeah sure fine, this has nothing to do with the final so technically you could just ignore my a̡̡s͢͞s̸ or f̢̡u͞c҉k͡ off entirely if you think you can sneak out for a half hour-ish without getting caught. But hey! My s̛hi̸t̡ might be useful s̛hi̸t̡”, shrugging, “or at least interesting. Unlike most stupid classes”. That gets him some snickers and laughs. Success. He’s also not surprised no one takes him up on the ‘fucking off and leaving’ option; most people took this class because they actually wanted to hear some nut job yammer on about ghosts… or at this point they just wanted to bear witness to whatever shit might happen to or be done by Danny. Perfectly understandable.
---
“You did what?”.
Danny shoves another mouthful of the noodle dish in his mouth before looking up to his mom, “uhhhh, it seemed like a better idea than some useless info dump regurgitation required test”. Okay so maybe it was stupid of him to think that his folks, oblivious as they often are, would just… not notice? people running around after blob ghosts.
She gives him a worried look, “but Danny, they’re still ghosts. Still dangerous”. Danny makes a point not to roll his eyes. Sure her genuine worry was ludicrously misplaced and steeped in ectophobia but it was still genuine… and while Danny is indeed a little shit, he’s not an utter dick.
He does still wave her off though, “i’s’ine”, swallowing his food, “it’s not like they haven’t spent an entire semester learning about this shit. Ghost shit”. She frowns at him, “still”.
His dad waves her off goofily, “oh I'm sure the kids have some idea what they’re doing, Mads!”, laughing loudly, “especially with Danno over here!”, and smacks Danny one on the back hard enough to make him cough. Danny appreciates the confidence but does he really have to get mildly assaulted at the same time? Not that he really minded but still.
Danny sticking up a finger, “and besides, Lance did approve it soooooooo…”, and waves his hand around limply. He’s honestly a little amazed by that fact still. Either Lancer trusted him a wee bit too much or didn’t want to see what else he might request if denied. It worked out mighty fine if you ask Danny. So far everyone seemed to be doing fine, sure Val had called and asked if she’d lose marks if she ‘used It as a pin cushion’; Danny said ‘yes’, of course… she was definitely disappointed. And both Dash and Dale were trying to teach theirs to fetch footballs. He might have to go give Todd a talking to about trying to turn his into some kind of feudal warlord over the other ‘wild’ blobs though.
She sighs and picks at her food a little, “it’s not that I don’t trust Danny”, actually looking at Danny, “but couldn’t you have just had them catch and release or even track Phantom down and hand them off to him?”. Danny sighs a little, “but that would have hardly covered anything. How’s that supposed to test their understanding of low-level behaviouralism or stuff like ghost hunger”. She actually blinks at him, sounding slightly confused, “ghost… hunger…”.
Ah
Shit
Right
Sometimes he forgets he actually knows -and teaches- shit his folks don’t actually know. Which is weird all alone. But hey, ectophobes don’t deserve to know. So Danny just shrugs and elects not to even attempt to explain himself. They’re -or at least his mom, based on his dad going back to chowing down food- are probably just slightly worried about what he’s teaching his fellow teens.
His mom, of course, presses the issue, “…Danny…”. Which Danny takes as the perfect time to get up and head towards the door, “whelp, guess I should go and stop someone from establishing tyrannical blobby rule”, waving his folks off as he actually heads out said door, “Todd’s kinda a dick… and moron”. He doesn’t miss his mom frowning or her muttering, “maybe this job wasn’t the best idea… and is he implying someone’s trying to teach leadership to a blob?”. His dad laughing a little, “yeah so weird! Those things can’t even be trained not to bite! HA!”.
Danny rolling his eyes as he looks up at the sky, “oh they’re easily trainable”, and chuckling to himself a little.
-
It’s a simple ten-minute flight before he’s got himself perched on his ankles on Todd’s bedroom windowsill. Apparently the guy keeps his bed right next to the window… which is street-facing. Fuck that’s stupid and reckless. How has he never gotten rudely awakened by Phantom him or some other ghost getting throw into/threw this wall. Fucking Ancients, mild death wish much. But hey, it gives Danny the opportunity to be a creepy little bastard gremlin. Aka, Danny absolutely leans ominously down over Todd before speaking, “looks like sleeping beauty’s been naughty”. Todd, like Danny wanted, gets jolted awake, yelps, shuffles backwards, smacks his head on his headboard, and just stares at Danny in shock. Danny snickers meanly, “trying to establish tyrannical rule, tsk tsk tsk, can’t have that now can we”.
Todd gulps and musters up some -clearly fake- bravado, “what the Hell man”.
“Not from Hell but I’m sure Satan would be touched that you think I’m his handy work. Real compliment right there”.
Danny hops off the windowsill, over Todd/his bed, and lands in the guy's room; cloak fluttering in the air faintly all the while, he was technically doing his job right now after all. “So as I was saying, trying to make a merciless authoritative ruler out of your blobby is not part of the final and is honestly quite objectionable”.
“You broke into my room”.
“And you sleep right next to a street-facing window, so clearly I’m not the one making stupid life decisions here, buddy”, turning around and smirking at his fellow teen, “you’re practically begging for a break and enter, be glad it’s just your quirky teacher taking you up on that offer”. Granted he was also basically the most powerful ghost around town, but hey right now he was just teacher. Shrugging, “granted breaking in here isn’t apparently all that entertaining, considering all you’ve done so far is wake up and stare at me from your bed like a brain-dead monkey”.
Todd jerks and glares at him, “aww am I boring you. Get out of my room”.
Danny shrugs again, “ah naw, I’m good right where I am”. Snapping his fingers and sending out a bit of his energy to call over the little blob ghost that Todd’s SUPPOSED TO JUST BE TAKING CARE OF BUT IS INSTEAD GROOMING INTO A WAR MONGER. The blob ghost of course listens and immediately zips over and rolls around under Danny’s raised palm. Danny turns his attention to the little guy, speaking like one does to a small child or kitten who’s being misled by a miscreant, “now you listen here little one, don’t let this jackass fill your head with silly little thoughts of blob world domination”, staring at It meaningfully, “Phantom’s the more peace-seeking type”. The blob actually shudders slightly over the prospect of being rejected by Phantom.
Todd screws up his face and mutters disbelievingly when the blob turns to him and hisses. Danny smirking at the teen, “have fun taking care of them now”, and throws a very cheeky peace sign before strutting smugly over to the window and dropping out it down to the sidewalk.
Danny’s not even slightly surprised to get a bunch of empty energy cans thrown out the window at him along with a very loud, “FUCK YOU”… and a slightly shrieked, “YOU BIT ME!”. Hahahahaha have fun with that Todd, serves him right.
---
Todd had glared at him angrily and was more of a nuisance than usual for multiple days, not that Danny gave a shit. He also ‘reported’ Danny as a ‘peeping Tom’ to Lancer which did result in a ‘conversation’ with the man but Danny’s counter of outing Todd as attempting to turn the general blob community in harbingers of war -which fine was a major exaggeration but whatever- resulted in Lancer sighing exhaustedly and basically throwing out the report. One of these days Danny’s going to run out of ways to make Lancer slightly regret ever offering him a job but that day has yet to come.
Danny smacks a hand on the whiteboard a couple of times, “alrighty alrighty alrighty, test results time!”, turning around and smirking at the class, “you get that s̛h͜i̕͟t͠ now since no one has to waste time grading a bunch of stupid paper scanner thingies and then rechecking them for fu̕͝c͟k̛͜ ̧u͝p̸̨s”, and smacks the board again. Though pausing at the cracking sound and snapping his head around to the board. There’s a decent-sized crack/dent in it, making Danny grin like an idiot, throw his hands up, and cheer, “YES! FINALLY!”. He has cracked the board! It has happened! Turning back to the class, actually tearing up a little and wiping his eyes, “I’m truly overjoyed. Blessed really”.
James blinking and muttering, “is he crying?”. Dash snorting, “ha loser”. Val actually turning around to the jock while Danny holds up a pink slip, “do you never learn?”.
“I’m collecting them at this point”.
Val blinks at that, “now you sound like Danny”. Dash looks genuinely offended and like he’s seconds away from starting a brawl right then and there, “you take that back!”.
“Make me!”.
Danny just laughs and waves a hand dismissively, “now now children, no fighting”. Earning him eye-rolls and scowls, Val laughs though so it’s a win in his books. Summoning out his staff and pointing it rather aggressively at the class, only Ashley jumps so clearly they’ve gotten too used to his shit by now, “now present to me your blob pets for grading!”.
Everyone dutifully pulls out their jarred blob ghosts and places them on their desks. Maple sticking up a hand, “do we have to release them or?”.
Danny chuckles, “you can keep ‘em if you wanna, wouldn’t exactly recommend it but hey Charles’s -that he so rudely stole from me- is doing cool so”, shrugging, making his staffs bell jingle. Danny pushing his energy into his staff making the feathers multiply and extend out to ‘assess’ the blobs. It was fucking weird that his staff could basically do anything so long as it had to do with his ‘role’ as Wisdom Guardian.
Jesse shakes his head at his blob attempting to nibble the feathers, “I’m just going to pretend this makes sense. This class is almost weirder than the ghosts are”. Danny simply smirks at that.
Danny nodding to himself after a bit, feathers retracting, gesturing the staff over the board making the results magically appear. Danny nodding smugly at his handy work/his students' results, fists on his hips, “Ancients the G.I.W. would hate me so much”.
“You say that as if you don’t already”.
Danny ignores that, turning around grinning and gesturing grandly at the board, “behold! Crack or no, your results!”. Walking to his desk and flopping down into his chair, “of course no one failed”, leaning back and feigning being utterly desolate, “oh how disgraceful that would be. To think my pupils would even consider bringing such shame upon me, after everything I have bestowed upon them”.
Val gets up and slams a cup of coffee on his desk, “will you stop being overdramatic now?”. Danny snagging it up eagerly, “oh why thank you”, gesturing dramatically, “my beloved emergency caffeine maid, how I thank yo-”, Val promptly cuts him off by punching his head into his desk.
“Call me ‘Maid’ again and I’ll make you a ghost”.
Danny just grumbles incoherently into his desk while the class goes about looking at the results.
“Oh Hell yeah! Guess who’s average is going up!”.
“Honestly I thought I did worse. Wow”.
“The bastard seriously docked me marks. Jerk”.
“You deserved it, Todd”.
“I’m honestly actually kinda proud of this. Doesn’t feel as meaningless as tests usually do”.
“High five bro!”.
“Heck yeah bro!”.
“That’s enough ‘bro’ing. Fuck”.
“Shove it, pipsqueak”.
“Is it sad that I care more about this result than my math results?”.
“Now if only uni gave a shit about this class…”.
Danny lifts his head up off his desk and rests his chin in a palm, “good for all of you”, sipping his coffee, “granted I’d got all happy go lucky if I ever got decent grades”. Val actually gives him a slightly sympathetic look at that, even if she says, “well maybe if you didn’t skip constantly”. Danny just takes another sip of his drink before standing up, “so who wants to do a blob release party in the field? Like releasing balloons into the sky”.
Maple practically skips back to her desk and actually hugs the jar her blobs in, “not mine”. Danny waves her off, “that’s perfectly fine”, standing up, swinging the staff behind his head to rest on his neck/shoulder. Wandering over to the window and just falling out of it, “see you out there!”.
James blinks, “we’re… not following him, are we”.
Valerie shrugs, “yup”, and basically jumps out of it.
“There’s a lot wrong with the two of them”.
“That’s nothing new”.
“I’m taking the stairs, this is ridiculous”.
“Well it is Danny for you”.
“I love this class”.
-
Danny just grins at everyone with their jars, nodding at them all before pointing his staff up at the sky for no real reason other than dramatics, more than a few classrooms have teens staring out at them while everyone -well almost everyone anyway, a small handful opting out- opening their jars and letting out the random blobs.
Some of the blobs just start zipping around or floating off, a couple nuzzle their particular caretakers, one or two just straight up stay and take naps on the grass. It was all kinda cute actually.
Amber crouching down on her ankles petting one of the grass sleeping blobs, “yeah I guess we kind of put you guys through the wringer, huh”. Danny chuckling, “oh yeah, for the most part, blobs do perfectly well living on their own in the wild-”.
Half the class basically speaks in unison and in time with him, “so long as there’s enough ectoplasm around”, followed by, “we know”.
Danny pouts at everyone, “well at least y’all remembered”. He has been successful at this teaching thing. Hurray. Good for him. Guess for now he’ll just enjoy the view of the healthy blob ghosts running around. Todd’s is apparently still somewhat ticked at him, taking the time to naw on his pants before fucking off. Hopefully, that one doesn’t cause problems in the future.
---
“So how was it? I saw that everyone passed”.
“Surprisingly enjoyable”.
“Really now”.
Sigh. “Fine I’ll admit it, you were right about this being a good option for me”.
“Good. So you’re up for doing this again next semester I take it”.
“At this point? No shit. Though I think my folks are going to interrogate me about my ‘usual’ and ‘forbidden’ and ‘impossible’ and ‘can’t possibly be true’ knowledge at this point, all things considered”.
Slight chuckle. “Good, it might do them some good. Their bigotry only seems to grow more concerning”.
“Heh, nice to hear it called bigotry honestly”.
“You’d be the one to say that”.
“Yeah, I guess so”.
“You know you’ve got one more thing to do now though”.
“Oh yeah? What?”.
“Get Christmas gifts from your students”.
“FUCK”.
“We also have a staff holiday party”.
“…oh I hate you so much”.
Chapter 7: Probably Utterly Unnecessary Overly Wordy Self-Imposed And Unintentional Obligatory Closing Chapter (But Christmas-Themed) Because I Knee-Jerk Hate Christmas And Will Take Any Given Opportunity To Take A Piss On The Season So In The Words Of Danny Fenton ‘Dude, I Am *Sick* Of Christmas!’… ‘I Know! (Puts Down Walker’s Arm And Grabs The Orange) How ‘Bout *This*!’
🎵All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth🎵
🎵My two front teeth🎵
🎵See my two front teeth🎵
🎵Gee, if I could only have my two front teeth🎵
🎵Then I could wish you, "Merry Christmas"🎵
…
….
…..
🎵What a bright time, it’s the right time🎵
🎵To rock the night away🎵
🎵Jingle bell time is a swell time🎵
🎵To go gliding in a one-horse sleigh 🎵
Danny’s grumbling almost aggressively and marching to class looking like he actively wanted to murder someone… slowly and violently. Repeatedly. Scowling up at the ceiling, nearly snarling at the speakers, “swell time my ass”, before basically kicking in his classroom door. Was he wearing an anti-Christmas sweater? Yes. Only because apparently teachers were ‘highly encouraged’ to show ‘holiday spirit’ with their clothing. Fuck Christmas. Fuck Christmas cheer. Goddamnit. His shirt said ‘sleigher’ -because Danny will pun regardless of how shitty or not his mood may be. And currently, it was quite shitty indeed- with a murdered reindeer. A graphically murdered reindeer. He’s pretty sure no teacher has tried to dress code him because of the fear of throat punching based off his facial expression.
Anyway…. door kicking. Ancients he wishes the stupid thing wasn’t built fucking solid o that his goddamn foot would have just smashed a nice little hole in the bottom. But hey, at least the door bangs against the wall hard enough to shake and bounce back enough that he has to kick it again to get it out of his way. And fine maybe he has to do that repeatedly. And sure maybe he just gets more violent about it. And okay he absolutely broke one of the hinges. Whatever. Fuck that door.
Valerie just sighs and shakes her head, well aware of Danny’s hatred for Christmas and well used to him turning into an angry chihuahua this time of year. Dash also rolls his eyes, even if he’s slightly intimidated. The rest of the class just looks on concerned as Danny walks over to the whiteboard, him smacking it hard enough to make the cracking spread, “alright so the next fucker who asks if I’m going to decorate this room will get stabbed and I will use your blood as the decoration to make this place look like Satan’s personal spa retreat, including something demonic-looking getting summoned into the corner to stare at you all menacingly”, glaring at a couple of people in particular, “and the next person to give me a bag of feathers as a present is spending the holidays with Boxy in a warehouse. Got it. Good. Anyways, since we don’t need no stinking stupid-ass review periods because we’re already done with that shit, what the fuck do ya wanna talk about and preferably loud enough to block out the crappy Christmas music”.
Todd blinks, “what crawled up your ass and died”. Danny snapping at him immediately, “my will to live in this god-forsaken time of year”.
🎵Who doesn’t love to sing We Wish You A Merry Christmas?🎵
Danny’s rye twitches, him half shouting towards the ajar door, “I fucking don’t!”.
🎵Good tidings we bring🎵
🎵To you and your kin🎵
🎵Good tidings for Christmas🎵
“Take those ‘tidings’ and shove them up your ass!”.
🎵And a happy New Year!🎵
Scowling and looking at the class, “y’all better start talking or I’m going to get in trouble for vandalism and destruction of school property”. Now that gets the class chuckling at him a little, making him roll his eyes somewhat fondly.
James shakes his head, “so I take it you don’t exactly like Christmas”. Valerie turning to him, “understatement. Danny hates Christmas more than the Box Ghost hates circles”.
“Well damn, that’s actually impressive”.
Danny sighs and glares at the ceiling, “and I actually hate it less than I used to”. That gets him some disbelieving staring. Whatever. Yes his hatred might be excessive but he’s a ghost goddamnit, excess is the name of the game; fuck off.
Amber purses her lips, “soooo… you don’t want presents then. Or any more anyway”. Danny sighs, “it’s fine. But make them Christmas-themed at your own peril”. The class absolutely laughs at him, not that he gives a shit. So long as no one gives him Christmas socks they can laugh all they want.
(Does basically everyone eventually give him something? Yes. Was it mostly ghost-themed/related? Also yes. Did at least one person be a complete jackass and give him something Christmas-themed? Definitely; but no one else did after he dumped ectoplasm-infused eggnog on that particular teen's head)
“Ignoring Danny’s hate boner, I vote we talk about Phantom”.
Dash grinning, “well duh!”.
Danny chuckles and shakes his head a little, “I swear this town has a mass obsession or something”, shrugging, “eh what the heck why not”. Val rolls her eyes which makes him smirk, even if his mood’s still shit. He pretty much just lets everyone chat amongst themselves; him flopping down in his chair and pretty much zoning out.
By the time class is coming to an end Danny’s got his feet up on the whiteboard ledge, Danny glancing at the clock, “whelp this has been fun”, lifting his feet off and spinning his chair around to face everyone, “guess this whole teaching thing was, like, an actually good idea. Dealing with you people wasn't terribly horrible”. He’s amazed the whole Phantom thing never got caught.
“Yeah fuck you too, teach”.
Danny grins and finger guns. Emilie getting up and tilting the door to get it open graces his ears with more fucking Christmas music though.
🎵Let’s sing Merry Christmas and a happy holiday🎵
🎵This season may we never forget the love we have for *bell sounds*🎵
Danny snags his quill and flicks it at the speakers, shorting it out and making it smoke worryingly. Then blinking, “wait did they censor ‘jesus’? Haha nice”, smirking a little, that was probably Sam’s handiwork. Whelp anything that defaces a Christmas song is a plus in his book. Val shakes her head at him, “you going to wreck the other door hinge?”. Danny just gives her a thumbs up, gets up, and kicks the bottom hinge hard enough to bust it apart; the door falling with a thump to the ground. Danny nods, satisfied, to himself with crossed arms. Val rolls her eyes at him and gives him a friendly shove on the shoulder. Normally that would boost his mood entirely but his ghostly ears means he’s still able to hear the stupid fucking music from the other intact speakers.
Fuck this time of year.
(Though fine some of the presents he wound up getting were actually pretty neat. The ectoplasm lava lamp even impressed his folks, even if they were none too pleased about the ‘team ghost’ flag).
---
By the time the staff holiday party rolled around Danny had warned Lancer that if there was Christmas music playing the whole time or -Ancients help him- carollers, then he was going to invite Technus. Needless to say, said party did not have Christmas music.
Lancer shaking his head at Danny, “you can be quite intimidating when you want”. Danny just scowls at him, “you have never seen me legit piss off, Lance”. Even Danny knew angry Danny was a scary -and dangerous- Danny. The man simply chuckles, handing off a cup of punch to Danny. Who mutters down at it, “I could totally spike this with ectoplasm”.
“Don’t even think about it, Daniel. As it is we already had to put a cage over the noodles you brought for the pot luck”.
Danny snickers and side-eyes the writhing noddles with teeth gnawing on the bars. Unsurprisingly he was the only one willing to eat them. Frankly… they were delicious. “I like my food thank you very much”, and nods smugly. He can practically feel Millie glaring at him from across the room; she’s not exactly alone in said glaring. Not that Danny actually gives a shit.
Remi grins at him mischievously, practically slapping a reindeer headband on his head, “at least you made things more interesting, Mr. Grinch”. Danny scowls and subtly sets the antlers on fire. A couple teachers jerk away from him, but Charles laughs loudly, “you’re on fire!”. Danny smirks, “and? I happen to think it’s very friendly fire”. Remi giggles at him while Xander dumps some of the punch on Danny’s head. Rude. Understandable, but still rude.
“Whelp. Now my hair’s wet”.
“And that’s not better than being on fire?”.
Danny grins and nods smugly, “nope”.
Things go on for a while and there’s even a few shitty party games and a little dance thing which honestly just makes Danny think he’s going to die from mortification. What is it with full-blown adults and bad/embarrassing dancing? And pin the nose on the snowman? What the fuck, man. A certain purple cloaked figure distracts him from wincing over Mainers attempt at what appears to be some kind of shuffle? Eh whatever.
Danny grins at the blonde-haired man, honestly it still surprises him sometimes that his Guardian had a human form… well illusion would be more accurate. Not that that should really be surprising, considering their strength. “ClockWork”.
“Daniel”.
Lancer -who has apparently wandered back over for more punch- chokes a little, eyeballing the currently human-looking ghost. Right, he’s pretty sure he explained his Guardian to Lancer; possibly more than once actually. Lancer eyeballing Danny, “… Daniel”, with more than a little worry and warning in his voice.
Danny waves the man off, “it’s fine. ClockWork’s the last one you’d have to worry about”.
The ‘blonde’ nods, cloak moving slightly in a nonexistent wind, “indeed. Not that any would claim me harmless”.
“Nope, just legless”. ClockWork cuffs Danny one over the head for that. Danny pouting and rubbing his head, feigning injury. “Meanie”. ClockWork gives him an almost invisible fond smile.
Lancer blinks a bit harshly, “well… this is still for teachers”. Danny smirks, “and they ‘teach’ me. So there”.
ClockWork shakes their head, “I’m not here to partake, rather to remind someone that he has places to be”. Danny pouts at that, speaking incredibly sarcastically, “but I’m just hAvInG sO mUcH fUn. CaN’t YoU sEe?”, putting a hand to his chest dramatically, “BuT oH hOw NiCe Of My ClOaK bUdDy To CoMe FeTcH mE. oH hOw GrAtEfUl I aM”. ClockWork actually glares at him for that.
“Someone will come to fetch you”.
“Oh I know. But this party is just begging to be crashed”.
Lancer sighs, “for the love of Shakespeare, Daniel”. Putting on some obviously fake bravado and glaring at the ghost, “and where are you trying to take him”.
Danny sighs and sags a little, “Ancients fuck, Lance. Ghosts just so happen to have truce parties and maybe some of them get a little aggressive about me going to one”. More than a few of the other teachers are eyeballing Danny at this point.
Joshep glaring, “of course the ghosts actually like him”.
“Honestly isn’t he a little biased to be teaching about ghosts then?”.
Danny rolls his eyes, muttering, “having someone who dislikes ghosts would be what’s biased. Geez, been over this much”. Lancer claps Danny on the shoulder, avoiding ClockWork though, “for what it’s worth I agree with you, and my opinion just so happens to matter more”. Danny does smile over that, but eh, it’s probably a good idea that he skedaddles at this point.
Danny shrugs at Lancer before turning to ClockWork, “alright, cloak buddy, I’m sure Johnny’s already challenged someone to an unfair race and I’d rather a place get trashed after I’m there than before. But first…”, Danny turns around to grab up one of the Christmas oranges and lobs it through the ajar doorway. Resulting in the now more familiar than he’d like sound of Ghost Writers voice in the form of a shriek.
Lancer grimaces a little as Danny heads to the door, a few people watching awkwardly/cautiously, “I still don’t approve of you tormenting a poet with fruit”. That just makes Danny grin meanly at Lancer, then at the Ghost Writer who’s around the door and glaring at him.
Millie shouts after him, “you could at least dispose of the abomination that you call ‘food’!”. Danny shouting back, “naw! Why would I deny everyone the joy of such yummy friendly food!”, then snickering meanly to himself. Both ClockWork and Ghost Writer shake their heads at him, though ClockWork looks a lot more fond… and amused.
-
So what’s the first thing that greets Danny when he actually gets to Dora’s kingdom -which is apparently the place hosting, for his particular group anyway, this year- why it’s Skulker with a slice of pie in hand of course. Always was, probably always would be. Danny shaking his head fondly at the robotic ghost, “so what’s the flavour this year, my determined little poacher”.
“Berry and fish”.
Danny stares at him a little, “… okay yeah fuck you”, but takes the pie anyway. Like always it’s freaking delicious, but come on? Seriously? Berry and fish? Ghosts are weird, man. Not that he isn’t totally here for said weird.
It takes not even five minutes for Dora to practically skip up to him, putting a dainty hand on his shoulder lightly, “you look well, nest-mate mine”.
“You as well, Aurora”. Danny liked his nicknames, including for ghosties he actually liked. Danny smirking, putting a hand to his chest as she takes a step back, “in fact, I’m wonderfully well off. Got a group of teens to entertain most days, then there’s the Guardian thing I’ve got going for me, oh and all these fuckers-”, jabbing a thumb towards the random crowd of ghosts, “-actually somewhat respect my human job”.
Ember scowls and snarks, “messing with a Guardian’s duties is just asking for trouble”.
“And you don’t actively want trouble? Huh, guess I misread you”. Ember flips Danny off for that. Dora, however, giggles lightly, hand over her mouth, “trouble-seeking as she maybe, there is a difference”.
Danny rolls his eyes, waving her off, “yeah yeah yeah, I know. Still fun to poke fun at everyone though”, and sticks his tongue out in Ember’s general direction; she throws a guitar pick at him, though she does look a little amused at least.
That was the nice thing about ghosts, they liked picking fights and poking fun at each other… and they liked others doing that back to them. Unlike humans, who usually got pissed off if you snapped back at them regardless of if they snapped at you first *cough cough* Dash *cough cough*.
Dora hums and nods to herself, “well you enjoy the party and may the truce for you be bless-ed, nest-mate”.
“May it be bless-ed for you as well, nest-mate”.
Dora was a nice sorta sister to have, and considering the Queen/mother fucking DRAGON thing he didn’t really have to worry about anyone picking fights with his little -even though she’s legit older than him- sister.
YoungBlood zips over and whisper laughs into Danny’s ear, “you should totally go bug that nasty Aragon about your boring adult stuff”, snicker, “he so doesn’t know”.
Danny grins wickedly, “oh Hell yeah”.
The kid -that Danny’s pretty sure he can only still see because he was absolutely still immature and because of the right to the High Throne thing- laughs and gets overexcited, “can I come! Can I come! Can I come! I’ll bring grapes”.
“Does everyone just know that I throw grapes at that bastard”.
“Yup!”.
“Fuck you, yes you can come”, smirking at the child ghost, “but make sure they’re extra squishy”. YoungBlood giving him a goofy thumbs-up before getting distracted by the sweets table.
Kitty giggles from the side at him, “here I thought teachers weren’t supposed to swear around children”.
“I resent that”, putting a hand to his chest, “why I in fact taught them to”, sticking up a finger, “in ghost speak specifically”. They had totally been taking advantage of that to get away with swearing in their other classes. Which Danny one hundred percent supports wholeheartedly. Kitty laughs at that and Danny’s going to take a guess that Johnny’s off hitting on some other girls here. Kitty speaking up again, “you know…. The flowers are kind of cute”, and giggles, leaning over to fiddle with one of the ghost pipes. Well that feels like proof to him.
Unsurprisingly Johnny comes out of nowhere, scowling at him then smirking attractively at Kitty, “come on babe, whatcha doing with him”.
She just huffs at him; Danny taking the opportunity to subtly slink away from the pair while they go about having one of their typical lovers quarrels. Danny damn near crashes into Desiree in the process through.
She scowls at him a little before shaking her head, “and that is why I absolutely do not ‘want a man’”. Danny chuckling awkwardly, “ah come on now, some of us are at least fun to mess with”. That gets a smirk out of the genie ghost, “true. Still not worth the trouble”. Danny just chooses to shrug before wandering off to the little appetiser table, Desiree’s tolerance for him was minimal at best… especially because he was a guy.
-
Danny barely gets to spend ten minutes demolishing the appetiser table before Walker is there being a pick and shoving a present at his chest unnecessarily hard. Danny letting out a little oof followed by a not so eloquent, “jerk”, in the prison wardens general direction.
The skull-faced ghost scowls at him, “I hope you are teaching those delinquents the law”. Danny rolling his eyes so hard it almost hurt, “of course, Whitey. I might be lazy and have a complete disregard for law but when I have responsibilities I actually tend to do them”, shrugging, “with the occasional shortcut”, smirking meanly at the ghost, “besides, the best ways to break the law require knowing it”, and winks. If it wasn’t the truce Danny is a-hundred-percent positive Walker would assault him right now.
Walker sneering, “you’re lucky it’s the truce, punk”, and stalking off feels like proof in Danny’s books.
Walker taking the initiative with the present giving basically results in everyone else following suit. Which of course means Danny gets pelted by boxes, which the exception of the occasional one that’s actually handed to him. They were all combative motherfuckers alright? Danny laughing probably doesn’t discourage it though.
Like always most would prove to be useless or even slightly insulting. Not that the gifts he chucks back won’t be equally offensive/pointless. He’s pretty sure his gift for Boxy is literally just a shit ton of marbles with square shapes inside them to really bug the guy. ClockWorks was a little touching though, being a gear cog accessory for his staff, and fine maybe Danny also gave ClockWork staff accessories. Like minds think in kind. Too bad FrostBite and Pandora have their own kingdoms truce celebrations to see to. Eh, he’ll visit them at some point. Besides, they all took turns hosting his group's truce celebrations. Technically he could go to those parties too but Danny’s not putting himself through three to six ‘Christmas’/‘Yule’/truce parties every year. He’s not a fucking masochist, regardless of what anyone might say.
Eventually, everyone gets all well and done with their present-based assault of each other. Dora nodding to herself and raising her chalice, “to a blessed and successful-”, everyone glancing judgingly at the Ghost Writer, “-truce!”. Danny, and more than a few others, chuckling at the Ghost Writers expense before sipping their prospective drinks. Was Danny’s the most disgusting horrid-looking concoction he could come up with based on what ingredients he had at his disposal? Abso-fucking-lutely. He even stuck in an orange wedge for the fuck of it. The smell was truly atrocious and the mild glaring that causes only makes Danny feel all the more smug. Drinking what’s effectively consumable battery acid with a devilish smirk as the party begins to draw to an end.
-
And boom bada boom, another year's festivities over. Guess the class shit’s over for another year too, so a nice little two-for-one ending there. Nice. Now to do it all over again in, like, a month. Well okay, a year for the truce crap. Oh whatever. Class starts again in January…
Eh at least Lancer had the decency to put Danny’s ecto-ology class in the afternoon again. Hopefully, that will never change. Though the fact that Danny still managed to show up late would probably cement that afternoon time slot. Ancients Danny might not show up at all out of spite if the man scheduled it any sooner. Lancer probably knew that too, the man had proven he understood waaaaaaay more than Danny ever thought/knew.
At least no one was treating him different due to the Guardian/teacher thing. Much anyways. Goes to show that Danny could probably change into infinitely stranger things and people would probably still go ‘eh that’s just Danny for you’. No one, ghost nor human, should have expected he’d become a freaking teacher (except ClockWork anyway… and the stupid fucking Observants) and yet everything went more or less fine.
But still, fuck Christmas.
And fuck the Observants for good measure.
What the heck, fuck the educational system too.
Throw in a ‘fuck his half-life’ for bonus points and to complete the nonexistent list of things to flip off before he goes to bed.
End.
#Danny Phantom#phandom#invisobang#danny#sam#tucker#dash#valerie#mr. lancer#technus#skulker#kitty#johnny#box ghost#clockwork#observants#teacher! danny#danny's a little shit#danny fenton the teacher#danny gets a job#your teachers dead shenanigins#fan fic#phan phic#my writing#have a fic suck my dick#phantomphangphucker#slight religous mocking#invisobang 2021
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My Favorite Kind Of Night - 1.
Camboy!Bucky x CEO!Reader
Part 1 of this series
Run-through: On Friday nights, you are punctual to your virtual meet-up with your favorite camboy over a streaming platform, for your private stream session. You’ve known him for a couple of months now. He goes by the alias of ‘Winter Soldier’ on the platform, which is perfect for the kind of man he is; brawny and drop dead gorgeous. Over the past few months, he has become your favorite kind of night. And secretly, you became his as well. You two get closer over time, and things get interesting when your real, professional lives gets intertwined.
Themes throughout the series: sex worker!bucky, smut, phone sex, fluff, language, dirty talk,
Half past five.
You glance down at your watch and settle into the backseat of your car. You mentally planned the evening ahead of you.
By six, your driver would’ve dropped you home. By six thirty you’d be in the bathtub, soaking in warm water and getting rid of the week’s tiredness because being the owner of your own company did come with perks, but also a shit load of stress. By seven thirty you’d be making yourself a quick dinner. Watch some TV all while answering some emails by nine. Go upstairs to your study and do some reading for an hour or so. And then after that, onto your favorite part of the entire week.
At around ten thirty, each Friday, you logged onto this streaming platform – where you spent the next 1-2 hours with the only man you knew who could make your knees weak, make your body throb in desire and make your heart flutter just by the sound of his voice and his phenomenal physique. Your favorite camboy, Bucky.
That’s all you knew about him, just his nickname. On the website he went by ‘Winter Soldier’ and many of his fans just called him ‘Soldier’ and you did too. But then when you began paying him for private sessions, he told you could call him by his nickname. And you liked it much better than the alias.
He was truly the best part of your week. Him and his impeccable body and his toys; fleshlights and vibrators, his foul, sinful mouth and his charm – truly your favorite kind of night.
Through video, he never showed the entirety of his face at once, it was always just half of it. Whenever he performed in bed, where all of his glorious, naked body would show he always wore a mask; showing just his eyes and his luscious hair. But whenever he sat closer to the camera, talking to his fans or during private sessions, then he always made sure that just the lower half of his clean shaved face showed along with the rest of his body. None of his fans knew what he truly looked like, including you, but you were all convinced that he has a beautifully crafted face
The fact that he never truly revealed his whole face never bothered you. Mainly because the mere sight of his body was enough to get you going, and whenever you got glimpses of his partially hidden face; his sinfully pink and plump lips, or his pretty eyes – then those were just bonus. Besides, if you were to see all of him, you knew you would never know peace again. Because if you knew what he looked like, then you would spend all your time looking for him in every crowd. And that would suck all the fun out of it, because this mysteriousness of his was thrilling.
Ten thirty-five found you in your room, on your bed, wearing just a dark red silk robe with your computer right in front of you.
Then he showed up.
And your heart fluttered at the sight of his bare body. His boxers showing off his round ass and his semi erected bulge. Bucky took his time in putting up a show; pushing his chair aside and standing up, allowing you all the time you needed to drink him in. Fuck he was gorgeous. You couldn’t help but smile as soon as he came in view.
“Like what you see, doll?” you heard his usual, playful voice come through the other side. You giggled, trying to hide just how much effect his voice had on you, despite knowing he couldn’t hear you. His voice just did things to you. Deep and velvety and smooth, it sent chills down your back.
Always do, Soldier. You typed, and watched how his lips curved into a semi smirk as he read your reply. How have you been? you asked again and watched how he licked his lips, purposely, before answering.
“Without you? Desperate.” He purred, “And needy.” He inched closer, his body taking up almost all of your screen. His perfect mouth, clean shaved face, his long dark hair falling almost to his broad shoulders. His defined abs which made you want to trace them with your tongue. And his boxers worn low enough to give you a good view of that well-crafted Adonis belt. He looked mouthwatering and he knew it.
You smirked. Oh yeah? You missed me, huh? You typed, sitting up straighter.
He chuckled upon reading your message. “Of course I did, doll. You’re my favorite part of the week.” His hand dropped to cup himself through his tight, black boxers. “Besides, I didn’t touch myself at all since last night. I waited because I wanted to cum for you. Only you.”
Fuck… the man had a way with his words.
Hmm. You typed, smirking and knowing that you had him all to yourself for the next hour and a half at least. Did you get what I asked you to?
He chuckled again as he read your reply and reached over for something. “Eager little thing, aren’t you?” he teased and held up what you asked for up to the camera for you to see. “Just what you asked for, doll.”
The sight of the vibrating cock ring in his hand excited you. You were giddy almost as you thought of all the way you could play with him had you been there in his room with him, physically.
Good. Now put it on for me. You typed and reached over for your own vibrator, sighing in delight and excitement because this was the perfect way to wrap up a stressful week.
Bucky knew just what you liked, and how you liked it. He would make a mental note of what he did whenever he received a large tip from you; which gave away what you enjoyed. So far, no one paid him as much as you did. And that was one of the many reasons why you were his favorite to interact with. The other reasons had to do with how nice, and polite and patient you were. And how you two often just talked without anything sexual going down and you still paid him the same. He liked how playful you were, and the right amount of cute and sassy. Fuck, the things he would do just to have a glimpse of what you looked like.
Over the past months, you had tipped him so much that he was finally able to enjoy the finer things in life, as well as make significant savings. And he was more than grateful. He just wished he could maybe one day return the favor, properly.
Tease. Came your message after he deliberately took his time in lowering his underwear and putting up a show for you.
He laughed looking at the screen where your replies would pop up often. “Oh shut up, you like it.” That damn laugh of his definitely made you even wetter than earlier. And something told you he knew because of the smirk he had on.
Bucky took his time, slowly lowering down the waistband of his underwear. Stepping a little closer to give you a better look when he heard the sound of a notification – which signaled that you dropped him a tip already.
You watched his mouth curve into a smile which could end wars. “Thank you, babygirl.” He said and stepped away and began stripping again. And when he was finally naked, he received another notification, and yet another tip from you. He chuckled and turned to his side, shamelessly showing off his voluptuous butt cheeks.
Nice ass, soldier ;). Another message from you popped up and he smirked.
“All yours.” His voice was raspy and deep. He stepped closer again, letting his hands roam his body; and making you wish it was you touching him instead. He let his fingertips trace his abs, down to his abdomen where he gently trailed his fingers down till he wrapped his hand around his glorious cock. He was big, and long and thick and perfect in every way.
The sight of his cock with his fist wrapped around it made you clench your thighs together. Fuck…
He slowly stroked himself up and down, whimpering softly and moaning. You touched yourself, watching him, soft whines escaped your lips as your finger slipped inside your entrance with ease given that you were dripping already. Your other hand toyed with your nipple, twisting and tugging.
You watched him slip the cock ring on. He moaned once the metal toy rested around the base of his cock; sending vibrations all along his cock and down to his balls. He groaned and let his body grow accustomed to the pleasant feeling.
You noticed how his cock stood taller once the ring was on, and how Bucky moaned wantonly just leisurely feeling the vibrations reverberate within him. He wrapped his hand around his cock again and hissed in pleasure. “Fuck… I wish you were here with me right now, doll…” he moaned.
I wish so too. Your message was followed by another generous tip.
Money could make anyone horny. But Bucky especially felt more free and dirty whenever he had sessions with you. He was much more comfortable in showing his body off to you compared to his other viewers. It began after that one day during a private session with you a month or two ago. And while chatting he sensed that something was off with you and sat down at his desk and asked you about it.
Nothing sexual happened that day. You had a long conversation, and along with occasional tips, he got to know quite a lot about you as a person. Not your name, or your job, or anything like that. But he felt a connection, one he had never felt before. And since then, he always gave you his all. And you became his favorite girl to talk to.
“The things I would do to you if you were here babygirl…” Bucky moaned as he stoked himself so slowly that you whimpered sinfully on the other side of the screen; you whined as you fingered yourself as you watched him. “I could fuck you for hours… I could just-,” he hissed and threw his head back, fighting back the pressing need to cum. “Could just spread you open and fuck you all night…” he trailed off, his voice dying out in a whimper.
You gasped when you saw him getting closer to the camera, your heart raced as you watched him lower and adjust his camera so he could film himself sat in his chair. You were still just a little bummed that you couldn’t see his face but that didn’t matter because now you got a perfect view of the rest of his body.
Legs spread apart, one hand resting on his muscular, smooth thigh while the other wrapped around his cock. He looked majestic, just sat there in his seat. Perfect body on display all for you. “I wish I could fill you up with my big, glistening cock.”
Another notification signaled that he received another tip from you. Much more than he expected. Followed by another message. I wish I was in between those legs, sucking you off hard and fast and making you cum even harder.
He took a brief second to read your message and groaned with a slight smirk on. “Fuck… I’m so hard for you, doll.” he stoked himself again, the cock ring pressed down on his balls and he was really having to fight off the need to cum right away.
You watched his perfect lips parted as he whimpered, touching himself for you. Oh the things you’d do to just be there with him in that moment. You were hot, burning with desire, and needy.
“Touch yourself.” he spoke again, speeding up the pace at which his hand moved up and down his erected cock. “I want you to cum with me.” He panted.
Talk to me Bucky. Make me cum… You typed and moaned quietly under your breath, imagining it was one of his long fingers that was inside you, touching you instead of your own. You could tell he let out that loud growl once he read your message. The sound made you tingle and whimper as your finger brushed against that sensitive spot inside you.
“God damn it, babygirl!” he gasped, licking his lips as he stroked himself faster. “I know you’re wet for me, with your pretty little fingers deep inside you. Touching yourself as you watch me.” His words made you tremble and moan. “Fuck… you have no idea how bad I want to be the one in between your legs, touching you, eating you out and tasting your pretty little cunt for hours.”
He moaned but it ended in a dark chuckle once he heard the notification go off again. Another tip. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You dirty little girl…” He stroked himself faster, and faster. You sped up as well, keeping your eyes on him and his movements.
You noticed how his cock twitched in his grasp, how his thighs moved as he thrust into his own grip and his abs flexed as he took himself higher. Your body trembled too as you slipped your finger in and out of your wet hole rapidly. Your own touch took you higher…and higher… and you were on the edge just like he was.
“Faster… faster, doll.” he whispered. “Fuck, I wish I could feel you squirm under me. I wish I could press my body down on yours.” He chuckled. “Just so you could feel how big my cock is, and how hard I am for you.”
God damn it. Your message popped up on his screen.
He let out an adorable laugh, even in this filthy situation.
“Cum for me!” he growled as he sped up, fisting his cock and stroking himself faster than earlier, chasing his release.
Your moans were wanton, and loud. It echoed around your large bedroom. You tilted your head back and moaned loudly when you touched a sensitive spot. You slipped your finger in and out of you rather rapidly, whimpering and moaning at the familiar sensation.
Your back arches off the headboard again, as you whine in pleasure. You fucked yourself faster and faster as you watched Bucky to the same. You could hear him as he stroked himself, and you could hear your own fingers slipping in and out of you as well. The wet sounds which were heard were obscene, especially the moans escaping his sinfully pink lips.
“Cum for me.” He growled again and you watched how he ejaculated all over his lower abdomen. You were gasping and moaning and taking yourself higher and higher… and a second later, you came as well. Hard and fast, you felt your orgasm wash over you deliciously.
Your body was hot. And your heartbeats rang in your ears as you watched Bucky panting just like you, trying to calm his heartbeats as well. “Fuck…” he swore and looked down at his body. “If you were here, I’m sure you’d help me clean up. Right, doll? You’d get on your knees and lick me clean like my good girl, wouldn’t you?”
You’re gonna be the death of me. Your message made him laugh.
-
Almost two hours and many orgasms later, it was time to say goodbye to your favorite camboy.
“Nooo,” he whined, smiling. “Don’t go yet.”
You watched how his lips pushed forward into an adorable pout. Time’s up, baby boy. You typed.
He chuckled at the nickname. “I wish I could talk to you all the time. Not just Friday nights.” He confessed finally. He’s been thinking about it for weeks now.
Trying to drain me, huh? You typed with a smirk on, worn-out, exhausted and ready for bed, but still wanting to see where he was taking this.
He chuckled. And ran a hand through his hair, his muscles flexing wonderfully and making you want to lick them. “Not at all, babygirl. But I would love to be friends.” He sounded hopeful. And your heart skipped a beat. And you were lucky he couldn’t see you because you had a foolish, giddy smile on.
Friends? Wow, you’re breaking my heart.
He laughed again as he read your message. “Maybe we could be text friends and see where that goes.” That hopeful tone was back again.
Hmm, that does sound interesting. Will I get good morning texts and sexy shirtless pics often?
He laughed and his laughter sent pleasant chills down your spine. “You can have whatever you want, doll.”
Doll… the nickname made you feel some kind of ways every time.
Okay then. Your message was followed by your phone number. Good night Bucky.
He smiled when he saw your number on his screen. “Good night, doll.” he spoke and ended the stream. He sat back in his chair and stared at the number on his computer. Should he send you a message right now, or should he wait?
No. He should wait, right? He didn’t want to seem too clingy or annoying.
---
Monday morning, you woke up to your phone buzzing. Expecting it to be a text from Bucky, you woke up quickly and felt around for your phone under your covers. And yes, you were disappointed to see that it wasn’t him, but it was a text from your assistant asking you if she could call you.
You sighed and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and called her yourself.
The call lasted a few short minutes. Basically she wanted to let you know that you had to be early at work this morning because you had to interview a few people regarding the new position available at your office. You groaned when you heard it but oh well, boss duties.
You lazily got out of bed and went about your morning routine. You kept checking your phone constantly though, finding it surprising that it was already eight in the morning, but you still didn’t receive a single message from Bucky.
You instantly smiled upon thinking of him. This past weekend had been… interesting. You two texted nonstop and you felt like you were back in high school or uni again, texting boys all the time. Bucky was funny, his messages could make you laugh throughout the whole day. And his occasional selfies from the gym or being shirtless in bed made your boring weekend much better.
You sent him some back as well, carefully avoiding showing your face. And within the first day, you both were addicted to each other. So now that he didn’t send his usual good morning text, you were a little disheartened to be honest. It’s crazy how you can get used to talking to someone and then when they don’t text you for a couple of hours, you feel all empty and incomplete.
Had you been too needy and annoying? Or maybe he’s just sleeping in, or sick or doing something important. Right?
It was crazy how the thoughts of a man whose whole face you hadn’t seen yet, who probably lived miles and miles away from you, was making feel all crazy.
Before leaving for work, you quickly snapped a photo of you in your lacy underwear set and sent it to Bucky. You two had been teasing each other with naughty pictures all weekend long.
You tried to push all thoughts of Bucky out of your head as your driver drove you to work. Quarter to nine and you were already in your office. Your assistant came in to tell you that the first candidate was here already.
You tried to focus on work, ignoring Bucky. For now.
4 candidates later, you were so done with the interviews; none of the candidates were cut out for the position as office manager – since your last one resigned because she moved. You needed someone dynamic. Someone who’s not too nervous, quiet or grumpy and who would contribute to the calm, fun and pleasing atmosphere you had managed to create at work.
When your assistant walked in to tell you that there’s just one last candidate left, you groaned loudly.
“Please. I can’t.” you whined, feeling a little moody. And you knew for a fact that you wouldn’t be moody if Bucky had just texted you this morning, like he had this past weekend. You were a bit of a brat, you’d admit. But then again, who isn’t?
Your assistant gave you an apologetic smile. “Come on, boss. Just a last one left.”
You groaned and pouted, checking your phone again. No messages from the hottie. Not even after a mirror selfie in lingerie?
“Alright,” you moved some papers around to clear your desk a little. “Who’s the next one?” you asked about the candidate who would walk into your cabin next. “Send them in quickly and let’s get this over with.”
“Sure.” Right before she walked out, your assistant spoke up. “And your next one is uh…” she trailed off as she looked down at her notepad and read the name. “It’s a James Buchanan Barnes.”
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes au#camboy!bucky#marvel au#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes imagine#sebastian stan#bucky barnes series#bucky barnes
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Carnival
AN: Bet y’all thought I was going to miss it, hunh? Well I made it with two hours to spare, and I actually really like this one! What other characters would you like to see appear in the challenge?
Prompt: Stuffed animal Valentines Day
“I’m sorry, I know this probably isn’t how you wanted to spend Valentine’s Day.”
Your eyes flick over to your boyfriend. Instead of his usual suit he was dressed in jeans and a button down which was tucked in. The gun that usually sat at his hip was also missing. It was nice, seeing him outside the role of agent.
“Aaron, I seriously don’t mind. This is, after all, a Valentine’s Day fair.” You motion to the chaos surrounding you of booths, rides, and sugary treats.
He smiles, “Yes, it is a Valentine’s Day fair . . . put on by Jack’s elementary school. It’s just . . .”
You take his arm and smush up next to him, “Perfectly fine. Plus . . .look.” You nod in the direction of Jack who is animatedly talking to a girl in his class. He’s smiling, and you can see a hint of a blush. It’s possibly the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.
Aaron threads his fingers through yours and the two you watch the two seven years olds exchange handmade Valentine’s cards. You pull your phone out and take a picture, while Aaron watches in amusement. You glance up at him, “Trust me, you’re going to want this picture down the road when he’s older and starts seriously dating.”
“Please don’t go there. We’ve hopefully still got years until that happens. College, if we’re lucky.”
You smirk, “For a lawyer and profiler you sure can be dumb sometimes.”
He laughs, “I know that’s not a likely scenario, but still, a man can dream.”
Your arm snakes around his back as his goes around your shoulders. The two of you stay like that, off to the side, and watching Jack until the boy runs back to you. He’s all smiles and wide eyes, “She liked the car I made!”
You kneel down to his level and hug him, “That is awesome Jack!”
Aaron holds out his hand for a high five, “That’s great buddy.”
“Can we play games now?”
Aaron shoots you a look that says, ‘see we still have years,’ before saying, “Absolutely.”
The next several hours are spent playing on bumper cars, riding the teacups, going up on the ferris wheel, playing every game you can get your hands on, and consuming copious amounts of junk food. By nine o’clock Jack is passed out on your back.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry him.”
You readjust the boy gently, “No. Your side is still recovering from that shot last week.”
“It hit my vest.”
“And you have a bruise the size of a pomegranate. I’ve got him. It’s not that far to the car.”
Aaron gets a mischievous look in his eye, “We’re not going to the car.”
“We’re not?”
“Nope.”
He stops right in front of the booth where you have to knock down the bottles with a ball. You give him a look, “You know this is rigged, right?”
“I think I can handle it.”
Forty-three dollars and ten minutes later Aaron does succeed. And when does, he picks out a love bug. It’s cheaply made, and he probably could have bought the same thing at a drugstore for ten bucks, but it’s the thought that counts. He holds it up for you to inspect, “What do you think.”
“He’s very cute, but we’ll need to disinfect him when we get home.”
Aaron smiles, “I just hope he holds up in the washer.”
You laugh, and you make it to the car in record time. You transfer Jack to his carseat, with the boy still fast asleep, and you close the door. Before you can go to the passenger seat though Aaron grabs your hand and tags you to him, before you know it you’re in a lip lock. You respond immediately with your arms going around his neck so your fingers can tangle in his hair.
When you pull apart he’s slightly breathless, and you’re really proud of yourself for it. His hands settle on your hips, “Next weekend we’ll go out and celebrate properly.”
You step back and bite your lip, “And here I thought that’s what we were going to do when we got home?”
You wink at him and climb into the passenger's seat, and you swear you’ve never seen the man move as fast as he does to the driver’s side. You can just laugh.
#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#hotch x reader#jack hotchner#criminal minds#criminal minds reader insert#criminal minds fanfic
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Fire on Fire - Chapter Six
this is finally going somewhere! i had to cut this chapter in two otherwise it would have been six thousand words so… sorry for the cut😬
Warning for sucidal thoughts in this chapter.
chapter five // chapter seven
“She did not!” Aelin laughed loudly, still in her nightclothes. “Why do we always miss that?”
“Miss what?” Sam asked as he entered the room, two bowls of cereals in his hands. He gave one to Lysandra and brought two spoons so Aelin could eat in his bowl. Lysandra and Aelin just woke up, it was four in the afternoon and Aelin didn’t eat anything since last night, so she was starving.
Aelin, Lysandra, Nehemia, and Sam might have partied a little too hard last night. So this morning, Aelin and Lysandra decided to stay home. Sam didn’t look happy about Aelin missing class but he didn’t say anything, knowing Aelin’s mind was made. He came back from school an hour ago and woke them up.“Gods, I love these cereals,” she moaned at the taste. Aelin loved food, and it showed on her body. The only good thing about her injury is that now she didn’t have to pay attention to everything she ate to fit in stupid costumes. She might miss dancing but she loved food more.
“I finished the last box, by the way.”
Aelin nodded, making a mental note she’ll have to ask Quinn to go grocery shopping as soon as she could.
“Leave me some, Lys,” Nehemia said as she threw herself on Aelin’s bed. She was glad to have a gigantic bed when the four of them were home, which is almost all the time lately. Nehemia threw her hair behind her shoulder, silently asking her friends to pay attention to them.
“That color suits you, Mia,” Aelin smiled and it was genuine. Nehemia had fresh new braids, they started black but ended in a deep ocean blue. The girl never wanted boring colors in her hair and almost everything suited her. Lysandra and Sam agreed with her, making Nehemia smile arrogantly. But Aelin knew that Nehemia was hiding a real smile behind that.
“Might dye my hair blue to match you,” Aelin said and Nehemia looked thrilled.
“Don’t you dare!” Sam said, turning to Aelin and almost spilling the cereals and milk on her bed. “Your hair is so pretty. Buy a wig but don’t you dare dye it.”
“Excuse me?”
He pouted, “Please?” Even with this ridiculous face, he stayed beautiful. She loved the twinkle of mischief, the hint of exasperation at her, and the kindness that made her feel good, the kindness that made her want to be the best person she could be.
“Okay,” She sighed and he had a victorious smile drawn on his face. “Let’s go for the wig.”
He smiled and kissed her, pout-ring all his love for her in it. She could spend years kissing him. “You two are gross,” Lysandra complained, Sam and Aelin pulled apart and Aelin sent her best friend a vulgar gesture.
“Anyway, Lys, what did we miss?” Sam asked again, this boy was the most curious of the four. He liked to hear gossip about everyone.
“Ansel was high at Nox’s party two days ago.” Aelin was sad they missed a party just to be at a Gala, but her parents were home for once and demanded that she was with them.
“You’re joking?” Nehemia asked and laughed as she took Lysandra’s spoon to eat some cereals. The brunette threw the dark-skinned girl a look that promised violence.
“You’ll never see me taking drugs, that’s for sure,” Aelin sighed and rested her head on Sam’s shoulder. “God, I already regret drinking twice in a week.”
“Good,” Sam said and she rolled her eyes.
The four friends spent hours talking and laughing together. They practically all lived at her home, anyway. Sam and Lysandra’s families were fucked up enough, so they spent their time here. Nehemia’s parents worked too much to notice that she didn’t come home most nights. Aelin’s parents were never here either, so she welcomed the company.
When it started getting dark outside, Aelin’s phone rang. She had no idea who called her but it could be one of her parents, calling her from wherever they were now or even Aedion who had a habit to lose his phone.
“Hello?”
“Aelin?” A deep voice asked and Aelin thought she recognized it in the back of her brain but she couldn’t put a name on who it belonged to.
“I’m not trying to be rude but, who are you?”
The man laughed and the sound gave her chills. “It’s Arobynn Hamel. Your mother was supposed to give you my phone number but I guess she forgot.”
Her body froze. Arobynnn Hamel. Of course, she knew that voice, she had watched enough interviews of him to become familiar with it, she even met him two days ago. She sat straighter in her bed, attracting the worried gaze of her three friends. With a more serious face than they had ever seen, Aelin motioned for them to remain silent.
“Oh gods, I’m sorry, Mister Hamel. She didn’t give me your number, I’m very sorry.” She was so embarrassed, Mala knew how much Aelin would be mad at her mom for it. Her friends looked surprised at who called her.
“Calm down, Aelin. It’s okay.” He comforted her as he laughed softly. “And call me Arobynn.”
“Alright.” She said and waited for him to explain why he was calling her, not that she wasn’t happy about it because she was. She just knew she would embarrass herself if she opened her mouth and started talking.
“Are you doing anything tomorrow night?” He asked and Aelin furrowed her brows. That was weird but exciting at the same time.
“No, I am free. Why?”
“We didn’t have a lot of time to talk Saturday and I think it’s a shame. I am still in Orynth for two days and would like to talk with you. Your mother told me you wanted to be an author or work in the publishing industry, is it true?”
“Yes,” it was the fastest answer of her life. Yes, she had always dreamed of working around books.
“From what I’ve heard, Aelin Galathynius, you are special. I’d like to see that by myself. Allow me to take you out for dinner tomorrow and we can talk about your future.”
If Arobynn Hamel helped her… She could become a successful author. She could picture it, a small house, Sam at her side, a study full of books she wrote, a life away from the spotlight, a happy life. It’s exactly what she wanted. Special, he thought she was special.
“Dress code?”
He laughed again and Aelin couldn’t help but smile. “Something like the dress you had on Saturday should be good. I’ll pick you up at seven, is it good for you?”
“Perfect.”
They hung up and she looked at her friend, still surprised, and smile. She was thoughtfully happy.
“Aelin?” Aedion asked, tearing her from her daydream. “You there?”
“Sorry. What is it?” She was tired and hungover, she didn’t get lots of sleep last night and she was feeling the effects. Dorian had left early this morning, long before anyone woke up. It was better than having to face Aedion’s judgmental looks.
“I asked if your scholarship got renewed for next year, Lysandra got the answer in the mail yesterday so you’re supposed to have yours too, right?” She looked up from her bowl of cereals, confused for a second. When she met Rowan Whitethorn’s face, with the same confused expression as her, she remembered.
Lysandra, Aedion, and everyone else believed she got a scholarship, frankly, she had no idea how they believed her. But they never had a reason to distrust her, that’s probably the reason.
Most of her relation with Arobynn was secret and the money he spent on her was part of the lie.
“Yeah, everything is taken care of.” She smiled, it was the truth in a way. She dared to look at Rowan and she didn’t why, didn’t know how, but she knew he didn’t believe her. She could see it in his frown and eyes.
“Good,” her cousin smiled as he drank his coffee.
She smiled back, he was worried for her, she knew it. It’s exactly why she didn’t tell him anything, he didn’t need the stress. “I’ve got everything under control.”
---------
“What are you still doing here?” Arobynn asked, startling Aelin. She had been too busy on her computer to hear him coming. “It’s past nine, we finished hours ago.”
They both had worked for hours today and she was tired. “What are you still doing here?” She asked.
“I asked first, darling.” He sat in his chair in front of her. She was still in her seat, the chair almost belonged to her for all the time she spent on it. She wanted to be annoyed at him but today had been different. He had been different. He wasn’t the Arobynn she had known years ago but he was close, closer than he usually was lately. Aelin was pretty sure he hadn’t had a drink all day, which could explain his mood. That was a good thing.
“I’m writing and waiting for my cousin to check his damn phone so he can pick me up.”
“Where’s your car?”
“Broken,” she grilled through her teeth. The damn truck had decided not to work this morning, causing Aelin to have a nervous breakdown. “A friend of mine had a look at it and told me it would cost me more to repair it than to buy a new one, so here I am, depending on my cousin.” She hated it, hated to depend on someone. But it seemed to happen a lot lately, so she might have to get used to it. “What are you doing here?” She repeated.
“My meeting lasted two hours,” he said, his voice hard.
“Ah, sucks when you have to actually do your job, right?” She remarked and didn’t know if it was a reproach for the way he over-worked her or a teasing. Maybe both, she didn’t want to wonder about it too much.
“Someone’s feisty today,” he joked and she fought a small smile. “Ready for Monday?”
“I already told you no, Arobynn.”
“Why not? You finish the school year in four days.”
“I have a job, Arobynn. I can’t just-”
“Everything’s taken care of.” He cut her off with a smile. It was the kind of smile that told her he had done something and was feeling rather proud of it.
“What.”
“Did you know Rofle was my friend? After a drink or two, he agreed to let you come back in September, right after your internship at Hamel Publishing.”
“And you did that after I told you no?” Her tone was rising. “And are you friends with everyone here?”
He rose from his seat to stand right before her. She had to raise her head to look him in the eye. One of his calloused hands rested on her cheek, caressing her cheekbone. "You know how powerful I am." She did, Arobynn wasn’t just a successful author or the CEO of a publishing company, those were just hobbies for him. He had grown up in a rich family, had been raised to be like every rich people. He had learned how fake smiles and words were weapons, how to manipulate people. He had a way to manipulate everyone he called his friends, whether it was a picture, a video, or a letter. He had something on everyone. “I once promised you I would make you shine, Aelin. I won’t let a shitty job ruin that promise.” For years he had told her she was special, he had told her she could reach the stars should she just let him help her. And for years she had believed him, so she decided to do it again. She only nodded and it seemed to be enough for him.“I’m calling a cab for you.”
“No.”
“No?” His voice was surprised. “Is it because of the money?”
“For fuck sake Arobynn I can afford a cab ride,” that was a total lie, but he didn’t need to know that. “I just… can’t.”
Understanding and pity flashed on Arobynn’s face and she had to keep herself from yelling at him for it. “You still can’t?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” She said voice hard that didn’t let room for questions.
“Pack your things, I’ll drive you.” This was what Arobynn from four years ago would have said, what the Arobynn she had come to know would have said. In a flicker of hope, she said yes. Hope that she could erase what happened between them, that she would forget like Arobynn repeatedly asked her to, and just start again because she didn’t know how to survive another person leaving her.
-----------------------------
It was the middle of the night when Rowan heard her cries.
At first, he had ignored them, trying to give her privacy. It was unusual of her to let someone hear her, so Rowan thought it might be very bad. But after five minutes of cries, he couldn’t stay in his bed anymore.
When he walked into her room, his heart broke a little. She was in bed, sleeping, trashing against the sheets, crying, and trying to talk. Even with only the light from the bathroom, he could see the pain written all over her face.
He couldn’t take it, he couldn’t just walk back to his room and ignore her. So, he shook her shoulder, trying to wake her up but it didn’t work. She kept jerking in her bed as if she was fighting with the pillows and her blanket.
“Aelin,” he said, using both his hands to shake her. “Aelin,” he repeated louder. Her eyes jerked open, she turned her head several times, trying to figure out where she was. Her whole body shook and a second later she leaned over the bed and vomited her guts out. Rowan held her hair back, avoiding touching her directly so as not to overwhelm her.
When she lay back down in bed, she was still crying, her limbs shaking as if she were hypothermic even though Rowan could see the sweat glistening on her skin.
Rowan had only seen one person look so wrecked in his entire life, himself. He saw it every time he woke up and looked into the mirror. It was worse ten years ago because he had no idea how to hide it, in a decade he learned how to conceal everything. How to recognize which night was most likely to give him a nightmare, learned how to stay quiet while he felt like dying inside.
“You should take a shower,” Rowan said, voice softer than he has ever used with her. He had been wrong, so wrong.
“I don’t think I have the strength.”
“To shower?” He asked but there was no judgment, he only wanted to make sure.
“To live.” Her small voice broke and his heart did too. When she looked up at him, eyes filled with tears, Rowan didn’t see anything but desperation and loathing. He knew it wasn’t directed at him but at herself.
“Come here,” he said as he slid his arms under her body. “We’re gonna clean you up, okay?” He lifted her up from her bed, avoiding the content of her stomach on the floor as her weak arms curled around his neck and he guided her to the bathroom.
————
@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy
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WHAT BENNY DOESN’T KNOW | Chapter 5
A TRIPLE FRONTIER STORY
Summary: One good night out turns into a two month affair.
Warnings: Mature 18+ ONLY!! Drug use, relationship abuse, mental manipulation, drinking, cheating, angst, language, smut, praise, fingering, slightly rough sex, squirting, unprotected sex (you know the phrase kids...).
Word Count: 6335
A/N- This is a heavy chapter so I have done a longer authors note here. Please read before continuing if you haven’t already read it. Events in this chapter take place 11 months before Italy and a couple weeks after Will’s chapter.
PART FIVE| 11 MONTHS AGO
'Hey Will said you were back. Want to go grab a drink tonight?'
'Yea, sure. Who else is gonna be there?'
'No one else, unless you want to invite others. I kinda just wanted to spend some time with you and catch up.'
'Okay, sounds good to me.'
Frankie had run into Will as he was coming out of a bar earlier that afternoon. He was grateful that Will hadn't notice him coming out through the doors of the establishment, allowing him the chance to pretend like he was just in the neighbourhood; and the fact they had run into each other outside a bar was just coincidence. When Will had casually dropped into conversation that you were home and that he had seen you, that had triggered something in Frankie. Whether it was just his slightly drugged up and alcohol riddled mind or something else, Frankie couldn't tell, but he knew he couldn't get you out of his head.
Frankie had always had a thing for you, ever since Benny first brought you home with him after your last tour together and introduced you to everyone. You were gorgeous, deadly and had a wicked sense of humour, you were everything he wanted in a woman and that's why he had been absolutely terrified to make a move. As time went on and you found your place amongst the group, Frankie came to appreciate how lucky he was just to have you in his life and as a friend and as time moved on further still, it became clear to him that he'd completely missed his chance.
He had started dating Laura just over a year ago now. She was nice, pretty, sassy. She reminded him of a slightly watered down version of you and believing he had fully missed his chance with you and would never get the real you, he figured he could do a lot worse than settling for Laura.
Around month nine of the relationship Frankie started to recognise he wasn't happy. He soon found himself relapsing into old habits he'd fallen into after he'd first come home for good and the PTSD had settled in. It started off as sneaking a bump off someone in the bathroom of a bar one night when they had gone out for drinks with some of Laura's friends. Just a little something to get him through the rest of the evening. A couple of days later it had happened again. It was only when Frankie had dug out his old burner phone from a lock box in the garage and contacted his old dealer, did he realise he was no longer in control anymore, but he didn't care. That's how he had ended up drunk texting you at half past three on a Tuesday afternoon asking you to go out with him for the evening so he didn't have to be at home with 'her'.
---------------------------
“Hey.” you said getting up from the booth you had commandeered as you waited for him to arrive.
“Hey.” he grinned as he wrapped you up into his arms, his head burying into your hair. It was so soft and smelt amazing, like coming home. “You been waiting here long?” he asked as he reluctantly pulled away from you, both of you sitting yourselves back in the booth. Frankie had taken a moment longer than he should have to get out of his truck when he had first arrived, prioritising snorting another line of coke up his nose off his dashboard, instead of coming straight in to you. A slight panic fogged his brain as he feared he'd taken longer than he had and made you wait ages for him.
“Nah, I only got here like 5 minutes ago or something like that.” You confessed and Frankie relaxed a bit. “Do you want me to go get the first round?” you asked, pointing towards the bar.
“No, its alright, I'll get it.” Frankie said hopping up from the seat. “What do you want?”
“I'll just take a beer.” you replied. You really were a girl after his own heart.
Frankie came back with two bottles of beer a few minutes later, handing one over to you as he tried to manoeuvre himself back into the booth without using his hands. “So when did you get back?” he asked casually, a typical conversation starter.
“Nearly two weeks ago.” you said, taking a sip of your beer.
“Where did you go again?” Frankie asked, his memory of where you'd been the last 6 months hazy.
“Colombia.” you said.
“Ahh, te dio la oportunidad de trabajar en tu español.” Ahh, gave you an opportunity to work on your Spanish.
“Cállate, mi español es muy bueno. Después de todo, aprendí de los mejores.” Shut up, my Spanish is great. I did learn from the best after all, you said stroking his ego and making him blush slightly.
“So what were you doing down there?”
You looked down at your bottle, unable to meet his eyes. “A whole load of stuff that, probably wasn't very legal.” you said, giving him as vague an answer as you possibly could. You looked up, expecting him to have a judgemental look on his face, but instead you were met with one of sympathy. You'd all landed yourselves in some form of shit or another since leaving active service and Frankie was the last person who could pass judgement.
You sat there for almost an hour just talking, drinking your first beers slowly. “You want another one?” Frankie asked, motioning to the empty bottle in your hands that you were now peeling the label off of.
“Yeah, sure.” you said with a smile. You looked to your left to find the pool table had also just become free. “Do you want a game?” you said motioning to the table where the last occupants were throwing the cues on top of it.
“Yeah sure. I'll go get the beers, you go rack ‘em up.” he said, hopping out of the booth with a smile.
You made your way over to the pool table, reaching your hand into the pocket of your jeans, searching for loose change. You took the quarters out, slotting them into the machine. The balls dropped like thunder as they were released, rolling towards the end of the table so you could pull them out the hole in the side. You rolled the discarded pool cues to the side of the table as you reached for the triangle, placing it on the top near you. You bent down to pull out the balls, dropping them blindly inside the triangle above your head. When you had pulled out the last one you stood and was met with Frankie's still smiling face making his way back over to you.
He handed you the beer and you took a sip before placing it on the edge of the table so you could use both your hands to pick out the balls, moving them into their correct spots within the triangle, then sliding them all into place. “Who's going first?” you asked Frankie who had put the pool cues that had been on the table, back into the rack on the wall, choosing his own to play with in the process.
“Well that depends, you get any better at breaking.” you screwed up your mouth at the cheap shot he'd just taken. You were a decent pool player but you were awful at getting the game started.
“Fine Morales, looks like you're going first.”
“Thank you.” he said, jokingly tipping his head at you as he put himself in position at the end of the table.
There was a loud crack as Frankie hit the triangle, the balls bouncing off each other in different directions. You winced in disbelief as he managed to pot two balls with just one shot. He flashed his eyebrows at you, showing off. “You know I think that was one of each.” you taunted him, bringing him back to earth. “You can only chose one, what's it gonna be?”
“Just because I know how much you love playing stripes...” he said leaving the sentence open with a shrug before moving himself around the table to pot one of the solid coloured balls. For a moment, both of you watched eagerly expecting it to go in, but it leaned to the right at the last second and bounced back, away from the hole.
You took a quick sip of your beer before placing it back on the side. “Ready to see how it's done.” you teased, dancing around the table sizing up your first shot. You started out with an easy shot, potting it with not much trouble. Frankie gave you a small nod of acknowledgment before you began circling the table again, working out your next move. You saw it near the corner. You lined up your shot and... clunk, you sank another ball into the hole.
You stood back from the table grinning as you looked over to him, ready to taunt. “That's two.” you said, a faint giggle at the end of the sentence. You danced around the table again looking for the next one. You decided to try your luck but ultimately missed.
“Hey, you can’t get them all in one go.” he said, pushing himself off the wall where he had been leaning. He handed you his beer to hold as he took his go. He fumbled his shot and you were soon handing his drink back to him to take your next go.
It had ended up being a quick game. You had won, easily potting ball after ball, much to Frankie's amazement. “Okay, you had to have been cheating. I want a rematch.” Frankie said, playfully challenging you.
“I mean, I am more than happy to give you one... then beat your ass again and then again and again.” you laughed.
“Okay, okay, I get it. Just rack 'em up again. I gotta go to the restroom.” he said backing away towards the door to the toilets.
When Frankie came back from the toilet he carried himself differently. He seemed both a little bit shinier but also spacey. It was a look you had recognised in people around you many times and had even, on occasion, experienced yourself. You had experimented with drugs a few times over the years, sometimes to keep your cover when trying to get intelligence out of a contact, other times just because it was a night out and you wanted to let your hair down. You never made a habit of it though. You never would have pegged Frankie of making a habit of it either, but it was becoming clearer and clearer to you, as you thought back on his behaviour at the start of the night, that it was.
“Hey, you ready?” he said as he picked his pool cue back up, snapping you away from your internal monologue. 'He's a grown man, he knows what he's doing' you berated yourself, shrugging off his actions. “You wanna break this time?” he asked you, raising his eyebrows encouragingly.
You pulled a face of discomfort. “Uhh.”
“Come on, I'll help you. You'll never get better if you don't practice.”
“Fine.” you said rolling your eyes, your footsteps falling heavier, stomping, mocking a stroppy teenager. He laughed.
“Come here.” He said ushering you to the table and taking a stance behind you. “You're problem is you doubt yourself and then get shaky on your follow through.” He said as you leant forward and lined your cue up with the ball. He leaned over with you, one hand on your left arm, helping hold it steady, the other finding a home over your hand on the cue.
He helped guide it back and you relaxed into his touch as you let him manipulate the shot. It was a gentle, yet forceful, nudge of the cue that sent the white ball careening quickly towards the waiting triangle of balls at the other end of the table. You turned back to him, smiling in triumph at the clack of balls as they scattered across the table. That's when you realised how close the two of you were. You couldn't help but look directly into his eyes. His pupils were blown wide, somehow they were both bright and glassy at the same time.
You weren't sure why you were doing it, but you found your fingers reaching for the front pocket of his jeans, hooking just the tips of them in slightly, nudging the bag of blow. His eyes grew panicked as you began to pull the small baggy from his pocket, curling it into your fingers. You bit your lower lip, trying to search his eyes for how he was going to react, if he was going to react. He didn't move. A part of you thought about just getting rid of it, just tossing it out, but you were having a good time with Frankie, he was having a good time with you. You felt safe and it had been so long since you'd had a good night out you thought 'fuck it'.
Neither of you said anything as you began to creep away, bag still firmly scrunched into your fingers. Frankie tried to act casual, attempting to go back to focusing on the game as you snuck off to the toilet. He assumed you had gone to get rid of the coke, he never imagined you'd have some yourself.
You rushed into one of the stalls, quickly assessing how best to go about this. You decided that none of the surfaces were sanitary enough to do this properly. You sighed, half excited, half still berating yourself for stooping to this, as you took a seat on top of the toilet lid. You tucked your hair out of the way before opening up the baggy and tapping only a small amount of the white powder onto the back of your hand. You listened a second, making sure there was no one else in the bathroom with you. Silence. You quickly lifted the back of your hand to your nose, closing off one of the nasal passages and then sucking in all of the powder, with your intake of air, with the other.
You'd forgotten how awful it felt in that first moment, your nose burning. You coughed and continued sniffing as you attempted to clear the passage, waiting for the initial pain and discomfort to subside. It only took a moment for the rush of euphoria to set in. You resealed the bag, then wiped off any remaining remnants on your hands, before tucking the baggy back into your clutched fingers, hiding it, as you left the stall. You quickly checked yourself over in the mirror, self consciously wiping underneath your nose, then fixing any stray hairs.
As you went back out into the bar, the effects of the drug really started to settle in. Everything seemed shinier and brighter, happier. You made your way back over to Frankie who was stood leaning against his pool cue, awaiting your return.
He stared at you intensely, trying to work out what it was that you had done with the drugs. It was only when you came to a stop directly in front of him and he got a look at your eyes did he realised what you'd truly done. He found himself breaking out into a small smile of adoration, impressed by your courageousness, but it carried with it this underlining guilt in the pit of his stomach. That feeling of guilt though was quickly quashed altogether by another feeling as you pressed yourself close to him once again so you could discreetly put the little bag back in his pocket. You gave him a sly smile and that was it. That was the moment Frankie knew he was completely in love with you. You gave him a coy grin before reaching for your pool cue and continuing the game.
Watching the coloured balls dance across the table top when you hit them, felt so much more satisfying now. You didn't even care if you were losing as long as you got to keep watching the balls of colour roll back and forth across the table. You enjoyed your beer and your company, you and Frankie nudging each other and taking any chance possible to touch one another now you were both happy and relaxed. “Come on Morales.” you said as you placed your hands over his shoulders, giving them an over exaggerated massage like he was about to go into a fight. He tried to shrug you off so he could concentrate and sink his last ball. You stopped your movements but didn't take your hands away and both of you froze watching the ball intently as he took the shot. Clunk.
He stood up straight and whirled around, wrapping you in his arms, a big grin on his face. “You know I let you win right?” you teased him.
“Sure you did.” he said placing a kiss on top of your head before leaning back slightly so he could get a better look at your smile, his arm still firmly around your shoulder. He leaned back against the table, his legs spread apart slightly so you could rest between them. You were both smiling content in the embrace, neither one of you wanting to pull away.
Frankie moved his hands to rest against your hips as he began to wrestle with the idea that had just popped into his head. He looked longingly to your lips, wanting to kiss them. Your smile faded as you scanned his face, realising what he was thinking. It was probably only 3 or 4 seconds but it felt so much longer due to the pace at which your next thoughts flooded your head. 'Oh my gosh, are we gonna kiss? What about Laura? Maybe they broke up? Oh I really want to kiss him.' then his lips were on yours and it was like someone had just set off a bunch of fireworks in your brain. Your head felt like it was fizzing and tingling, you couldn't help but smile as you melted into the kiss.
Frankie felt your lips pull tight against his as your smile burst from your lips and it only encouraged his own. He pulled away only briefly so you could both acknowledge how happy you were right then in that moment, but you quickly closed the gap again, practically throwing yourself into him, desperate to feel that tingling feeling in your brain again. At your enthusiasm, Frankie wasted no time deepening the kiss, his hands snaking down to your ass and pulling you tighter to him. This was everything he ever wanted, what he'd dreamed about for years now and it was finally happening. It felt better than he could have ever imagined it to be. Your kisses were powerful and hungry and for a moment you both almost forgot where you were.
Frankie quickly broke the kiss. You were about to protest when he took hold of your hand and started leading you to the door.
Neither of you said anything as he lead you to his truck. He gave you one more quick passionate kiss before opening the passenger side door to you and encouraging you to get in. You happily hopped in before turning back to give him another kiss as he closed the door.
He drove you both back to your place, using his spare key to let you both into the apartment. You had given each of the boys a spare key to your place just in case of emergencies but this was the first time you'd ever seen Frankie use his and it made you happy. The image of it felt so natural to you, like you were both coming home together after a long day.
You didn't have time to revel in the domesticity of it though as Frankie pulled you inside, rapidly closing the door before latching his lips back onto yours. You felt him lift you up into his arms and he carried you to your bedroom.
Your feet dropped back to the floor as you both made it through the doorway, Frankie wasting no time to start undressing you and himself between hungry kisses, both of your tongues fighting to pull each other back together after every break.
When you were both completely naked Frankie wrapped his arms tightly around your middle, lifting you slightly, walking you both towards the bed which you collapsed onto together, Frankie coming to lay on top of you. You reached your hands up into his hair as he covered your naked body with his own. It was only in that moment that you fully realised he hadn't been wearing his trademark hat this evening. You made a mental note of the actions significance and happily kept smiling and giggling into his kisses.
A sudden feeling took over in the pit of your stomach as you watched Frankie's gaze darken, his lust for you taking over at your joyful sounds and the way your naked body moved underneath him. You felt his hands move to your hips and he suddenly flipped you over onto your stomach before guiding your hips up so you were resting on your knees, your ass and pussy on full display for him. “Oh god.” Frankie groaned at the sight. “Hold it there baby, there's something I wanna do.”
You felt him get off the bed and heard him shuffle around on the floor for something. It took you a moment for your brain to realise what he was doing. He was rooting back into his pocket for the cocaine. You thought about saying something but decided not to for fear it would ruin the moment and this would all stop. This was Frankie. You had wanted this for so long and you were willing to put up with anything just to have his love and attention all to yourself.
You felt his hand smooth over your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh, giving it a squeeze before he let go. You shifted your head slightly so you could look back and watch him as he opened the little baggy and began gently patting the powder out of it, leaving a line of it across your right cheek. The dark look in his eyes as he stared at the sight made your knees want to go weak. He could sense the slight tremble within you, “Hold still for me baby.” he said as he took hold of you again, his hands firmly placed either side of your ass, holding you still. You closed your eyes, thinking if you didn't see what was about to happen, maybe you could act like it never did.
It all happened so quickly you didn't even have time to really take it in. Frankie quickly leant down, taking the powder up his nose, his tongue coming out to lick up any remaining powder before he thrust his face between your folds. You let out a startled squeal of pleasure as you felt Frankie's tongue dive straight in, catching you completely off guard. His patchy facial hair tickled your skin and you jerked back further towards his face, Frankie moaning in pleasure at the feeling.
He quickly pulled his mouth away, thrusting two fingers inside you instead, stretching you out and making sure you were ready. His fingers took a moment to explore your heat and you moaned as this thick fingers stroked your inner walls. You let out a groan when he took his fingers out and you were about to lift your head to turn and whine pathetically about it when he suddenly thrust his cock inside you.
“Oh fuck.” you cried out as you attempted to adjust to his size. He leant over you, his arm wrapping around your upper chest, pulling you to your hands. His head nuzzled into your neck, trying to get you to turn your head so he could kiss you. As you began to turn it towards him, his hand that had been holding your chest moved up to grasp your jaw, forcing your lips to his. He felt you clench around him as you reacted to the power move and he gently rolled his hips into you, your back arching, trying to encourage him even deeper.
He began pounding into you rapidly as he straightened himself up again. His grip on your hips was firm, holding you steady, pulling you back into him with every thrust. The feeling was overwhelming and the lingering effects of the cocaine only heightened everything more. “Oh my god baby, you feel so fucking good.” he praised you as your moans of pleasure rang out through the room.
You felt him lean forward again and you turned your head, seeking out his lips once more. “I've wanted this for so fucking long.” he grunted out between kisses. He almost melted when you moaned back into his lips in response to his words. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling your back into his chest again, making his rapid thrusts even deeper. He was hitting a certain spot inside you and it was devastating, your eyes wanting to roll back into your head as you relaxed it against his shoulder.
A feeling began to rise inside you. It felt so overwhelming and rapid you weren't even sure what was happening until it had already happened. Frankie felt your walls pushing back against him and when he thrust back he was forced out of you completely, your release gushing all over his cock and the bed. “Jesus fucking Christ did you just-” he couldn't even say the word. He was so fucking happy and impressed, but he saw the look of surprise on your face. He quickly crashed his lips into yours as he tried to reassure you that what had happened was a good thing. No a great thing. “Fucking do it again for me baby.” he said as he lined himself back up with your entrance and thrusted himself inside you once more.
You couldn't help but cry out, your mouth falling open against his. You felt so sensitive between your legs it didn't take much time at all before Frankie had you squirting again. “That's it, that's my girl. You're so fucking beautiful when you do that baby.” he said as he turned you around to face him. He could tell your eyes were unfocussed, completely blissed out from each devastating orgasm he was pulling from you.
He placed his hands either side of your head, smoothing your hair out of your face as he kissed it. He sat himself back on the bed, trying to avoid the wet patch on the sheets, pulling you to sit on top of him. He held you close as he pulled you back down onto his erection and you relaxed your head against his shoulder as he continued to smooth your hair. He began rocking you gently on top of him, letting you have a small break, both of you enjoying the moment of being close.
When you felt your strength coming back to you, you lifted your head from his shoulder, fixing your lips to his again. He lifted you in his arms, laying you back on the bed. He lifted your legs back, allowing him to push himself deeper inside you as his thrust began to pick up again.
You placed your hands either side of his head, forcing your eyes to focus on one another. “Fuck, you're so fucking beautiful.” he said, his forehead pressing into yours. You're mouth hung open again, your breaths coming out fast inbetween his thrusts, your moans stuttering wordlessly from your lips. He could tell your eyes were starting to become unfocussed again as your next orgasm built inside you.
He placed his hands under your hips, lifting them slightly allowing his thrusts to reach deeper still. The feeling inside you was devastating and your hand reached to rub circles over your clit, encouraging your release to come even faster. Once again Frankie felt himself being forced out from inside you as you once again gushed all over him and the bed, only this time he had a much better view. He was getting so close to his own climax and this only spurred him on even more. He barely gave you a moment to recover before he was thrusting himself back deep inside you.
His thrust were rapid as he chased his own finish and your fingers clawed at his back as you tried to ground yourself. Frankie let out a deep growl as he buried his head into the crook of your neck. His thrusts became sporadic, stuttering as he lifted his head to capture your lips in his own as he finished inside you. He stilled inside you and you relaxed into his arms as you felt every pulse of his cock inside you. It was a feeling that made you feel proud.
You looked up into his eyes. They were ones of complete bliss and adoration. You wanted to tell him you loved him but the words caught in your mouth so you settled for kissing him once more. This time the kiss was tender and not just because you were both exhausted. It said everything you both didn't feel like you could say. A silent acknowledgment of love.
------------------
“Hey where are you going?” you asked him as he climbed from the bed an hour later and began pulling on his clothes.
“I gotta go.” he said as he shrugged on his t-shirt, unable to meet your eyes,
“Oh, okay.” you said, sitting up and curling your knees up to your chest. You watched him silently as your racing thoughts from the bar slowly started coming back to you. They were more prominent now in this post sex quiet. “Frankie.” your voice said tentatively. It was half broken as the reality of the situation set in and an ache began to form in your chest, along with a churning feeling in your stomach. He looked back at you, eyes sorrowful.
Frankie felt like he had just been punched in the gut. He could see the hurt behind your eyes and it killed him. He knew his love for you was so great and he hated that he was hurting you in this moment. He made his way across the room to you, his arms leaning on the bed either side of you as he leant down to kiss you. “I'm gonna make this right, I promise.” he said as you dipped your head away from him. He gave you a tender kiss on your fore head. “I'll text you in the morning.” he said before placing a hand under your chin, encouraging you to lift your head once more so he could give you a final kiss goodbye. You could only watch silently and helplessly from your bed as he turned and walked away. You practically flinched as you heard the front door close behind him, the sound echoing around your quiet apartment, the reality of your actions setting in. What the fuck had you done.
---------------------
True to his word, Frankie had indeed messaged you the following morning. There was no mention of Laura just an 'I really want to see you. Can I come over later.' You had of course said yes and you had both had a repeat of the night before, just this time with pizza and TV. You had wanted him to stay, but you also understood why he couldn't. He promised you he would soon though.
You had both carried on that way, the days turning into weeks. Wild nights turning into wild afternoons, always with the promise that at some point Frankie would break up with Laura and you would be together properly soon.
One week turned into two months and with every passing day your feelings for Frankie were growing stronger and stronger. You didn't care if he hadn't left Laura yet. You didn't care about the drugs, mostly because you could see he was using less and less when he was around you. You could see he was getting better. He was happier and shinier and you knew when he was ready he would end things with her and move in with you.
It was a Saturday evening when he turned up on your doorstep drunk and high and unable to get his key into the lock to let himself in. When you finally opened the door to him there were tears in his eyes. “Frankie?” his name fell from your lips as a question as he stumbled through the door. He made a beeline for your kitchen, searching the cupboards for more alcohol to drink.
You rushed over to him as you saw him pull a half full bottle of whiskey from the cupboard. He didn't even bother to get himself a glass, just started sipping it straight from the bottle. “Frankie, what the fuck is going on?” you asked as you snatched the bottle from his grasp.
“She's pregnant.” he choked out. Your face dropped, complete shock taking over.
“What?” your voice was barely louder than a whisper.
“Laura, she's pregnant.” he said again. His gaze wouldn't lift from a spot on the floor. There was silence between you as you both let the information settle in.
“What are you going to do?” you asked him tentatively.
“I love you.”
“What?”
“I love you.” he said again, finally looking up to meet your eyes.
“No-”
“I don't want to be with her-”
“Frankie she's carrying your kid.”
“I don't want to be with her, I want to be with you.” he said again stepping towards you, his hands outstretched reaching for you. You remained frozen to the spot as his hands rested either side of your face. “I love you. I don't love her, I want to be with you.”
“How long have you know?” you asked him, your voice cold. He was silent. “How long have you known?” you asked him again, your voice rising, becoming desperate.
“About a week.” he finally admitted. You stepped backwards, away from his touch, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. “Please baby, please-” he began to beg, trying to step forward and close the distance between you again but you kept stepping away, shaking your head in disbelief. “Please, you make me better. I'm better when I'm with you.” You turned away from him, leaving the room in an attempt to get away, panic rising up inside you.
“I'll tell her everything, I'll get help, I promise just please-”
“FRANKIE STOP!” you shouted, rounding on him. He finally fell silent, allowing you a moment to breathe, to think. “I can't do this anymore.” your voice said broken. “If you really loved me, if you were actually going to leave her you would have done it weeks ago when you said you would. If you didn't want to be with her, why were you still sleeping with her, why did you get her pregnant-”
“I don't even remember it.” his voice came back broken and his knees gave way, his back leaning against the open kitchen door. He was sobbing now.
“Frankie, you need help.” you said to him tenderly as you made your way towards him. You sat on the floor beside him, your head leaning on his shoulder. His head slumped against yours in defeat.
“How did I fuck this up so bad?” he asked you. You didn't answer. You didn't need to. “I wish I had a time machine, like that car in that movie, back to the future,,, or that hot tub in that stupid movie Benny made me watch.” he started, his voice calming. “I wish I could go back to when I first met you and tell you how I felt about you. I wish I had told you I loved you the moment I saw you. I wish I'd never let Will or Santiago have the chance to fuck you before I did. Maybe then you would be the one carrying my child right now and not her.”
You let his words hang in the air. You wished more than anything that things could be different right now but they weren't. Frankie had a drug addiction. He had cheated on his girlfriend with you. He had promised you he would leave her but he didn't. Instead he had gotten her pregnant. You had been willing to over look so much for Frankie but for your own sake you couldn't do it anymore. There was a child involved now and there was no way you were gonna hang around and make this situation more difficult for everyone. “I'm gonna go to Italy.” you told him. He looked at you lost.
You had gotten the call that morning. You had been wondering all day whether or not you should take the job but now you saw it as the only option you had. You both needed space. Frankie needed to be there for Laura, for his kid and you couldn't be here as a temptation for him. “My supervisor called this morning about a job in Italy. I think I'm gonna go. I think we both just need some space away from each other to clear our heads.”
“How long?”
“I don't know. Could be a couple of months, could be longer.”
“I love you.” he said again after a moments silence, hoping it would change your mind, hoping it would make you stay.
“Promise me you'll get help Frankie.” was all you said. You were on the next flight to Italy the following morning.
------------------------------------------
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