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#was gonna wait til tomorrow to post this one but i like how it turned out sooo >_<
bunnykitty13 · 6 months
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got paid extra to add a background to this chibi comm (somethin im trying to be more open to!) for @tenfingers-elevenpies ^_^
rlly wanted to improve my bg drawing skills w/ this one, thanks again for the support and patience!!
DO NOT REPOST/USE IF YOU ARE NOT THE COMMISSIONER.
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seeminglydark · 11 months
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Idk if this means anything to you but I'm a comic artist who's had a hard time doing art for a few years. The first four was because of life hardship and lack of time/chronic pain, but now lately I've had time but a mental block. I'm creeping up on 30 and felt bad about myself for "missing out" on my opportunity to be a comic artist. It was really validating to see you post about being 41 (correct me if I'm wrong) especially since you have such wonderful comics that I've been following for a while now. It makes me feel less like I'm wasting my time putting my things in order when I "should" be drawing.
Hopefully this doesn't come across as offensive or anything. It was just comforting and validating. Anyway, big fan! Love your characters a whole lot and hope you have a good day!
Dear Anon
I am 41 years old. I have wanted to make comics my entire life. before my dad got sick, and my childhood kinda fell apart, all i did was draw. after that, i used the stories in my head to cope. life moved on. i was convinced not to accept a partial scholarship to an art school in California. life got hard. i worked at a hotel, and after i escaped an abusive relationship at 22 i hitchhiked/bused far far away to start over. i tried to make comics again, but i had to survive, and so i got another job doing the only thing i knew how to do, hotels. and i worked. and worked. and life got harder and times got heavier and i didn't get time to draw and i worked double hours, 15 to 17 hours a day. and i went four years without drawing a single thing.
i kept working myself into the ground. i was 29 now. i picked up a pen again and drew a red haired boy. he had a hard life and no love and no friends. his problems were on the outside, for everyone to see. he ran away but his problems went with him.
i was 32. surely i was too old now. my time to be an artist was gone. i had no school. no hope. i was so far behind the younger gen i saw online. i cried. all the time. i wrote stories in my email drafts while i worked shifts. i stayed up late trying to learn how to draw again. i cried some more. the boy grew. i called him Fiach. worthy. a raven. later i renamed him Avery. he was like a bird, he had wings, he was my hope. i started writing some friends for him. the people i wished i had around me.
i started finding time and space. i got a new job, something where i was lucky enough to set my own hours. for the first time i had a partner who believed in me. things were hard. but i was drawing now. and that helped.
i went on a road trip and i started drawing pages of an unnamed story on 6 by 8 paper in a sketchbook. i drew 20 of them. 'what could i call this?' i thought. Nothing Seems as Dark...no says my partner. Seemingly Dark. he made me a logo. i was 35. i bought an ipad, i cant do this on paper, its too much story i have too much to say. so i learned how to draw digitally by tracing my own trad art pages.
I spoke to my dad for the last time on June 17th, fathers day that year. he said 'you're good. i'm proud. and you're gonna do amazing things. none of this is your fault. and we will speak again soon.' i didn't know id never hear his voice again. he died a week later.
i turned 36. i kept trying. i'm old, i don't understand the internet. how can i share this?
i stumbled across Lore Olympus. i was introduced to webcomics. id read comics online before but the thought never occurred to me. i opened an account on Tapas. and then i stared at it. what if no one likes it. what if its bad. my art isn't good. i should wait til i'm better. but will i ever really be better? or will i always believe that tomorrow is better? do it now. if even one person gets something out of this story, this story about a boy who is you, a boy who looking for hope, a boy who might make it, then that is enough isn't it.
June 17th 2018 i launched Seemingly Dark.
SD's five year anniversary is in a week. 0ver 700 pages. leaps and bounds in progress with my skills. a printed comic under my belt as of monday. i was always a storyteller. but i was always an artist too.
I am 41 years old, dear anon. I did not truly embark on this journey til i was 35. life got in the way. even now, chronic illness gets in the way. but its worth it. its never ever too late. i believe in you the way my dad believed in me. i reset my life again and again. but I was always an artist. and if thats who you are, and who you want to be, even if things dont go the way you wished they could, you're an artist too.
im 41 years old. i speak about my age, even though i often feel too old to belong in spaces, cuz really, in this case age is just a number. take care of yourself. do what you need to do. and little by little, when your able, carve out your space until it becomes more of a habit. sometimes i think about all the years i lost not drawing or creating. but there's a lot of factors that make me believe had i made my story then, it wouldn't be the story it is now, i needed to live a bit. i needed to find myself. i know this was long, but i just wanted you to see i also had to put my life in order, and getting notes like this reminds me it wasnt at all a waste. im glad i could offer you some comfort. thats honestly the best compliment i could ever receive.
TL;dR I was 35 when i sat down and seriously started making comics, because life always got in the way and so did my confidence. i always feared being too old. im 41 now, still going strong.
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woman-of-balnain · 1 year
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You Don't Form in the Wet Sand (I Do) - Part 1/2 (Alpha Rick x Omega Reader)
Masterlist | AO3 Ver. | Next Part
Pairing: Rick Grimes/Fem!Reader
Request: An omega reader who is able to handle and defend herself and how Rick would deal with that considering he just wants to protect her.
A/N:
So, this all takes place during the early period of the ‘farmer Rick’ era (between s3 and s4). I have it so that Hershel wants to get the infirmary stocked up with everything he needs to get it properly up and running (Dr S isn’t part of the community yet).
The hospital in this story isn’t the one that Dawn runs.
I’m going to write chapter 2 right after posting this, so it’ll be up soon and is just 100% smut of their first shared rut/heat.
TW: Strangulation of the Reader in an attempt to kill her (by an enemy, NOT Rick). The way it’s described might make it seem like it’s going on for longer than it is, but I intended it to be fairly minor, with no permanent or serious damage. Idk if that comes across clearly though, sorry. I also don’t know how realistic it is, because I am not a doctor, but a complete idiot…
Warnings: See the TW above, a/b/o dynamic (some non-traditional), established relationship, dominant Rick, protective Rick, killing both walkers and other people, independent omega Reader, female Reader.
Word Count: 4,576
Dividers by: @newlips + @cafekitsune
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You loved the moments when Rick didn’t realize you were looking at him. He was so cocky whenever he caught you, that you savored the times when he was completely unaware, and you could just take him in with open and unrestrained appreciation. He was tending to the crops in the prison yard alone, like he always did these days, and you realized that you missed the way he was before he’d decided to basically retire.
There had been times where he’d get too protective of you, whenever the group was in a dangerous situation, but you knew it was just his instincts as an alpha coming through. Luckily, you could handle your own, so he really didn’t have any reason to worry. That never stopped him though, and even now he hated when you went out on a supply run without him.
“Hey cowboy,” you greeted Rick, walking up to him.
He stopped what he was doing and turned to look at you, a grin curling up on his lips at the familiar nickname you always used.
“You ever gonna stop callin’ me that?” He asked, letting out a light laugh.
“Nope,” you replied playfully with a small smile of your own. “You’re just asking for it.”
You loved his southern drawl, the slight lilt his tone had with certain words. You would never admit it to him, of course, and teased him about it constantly instead. Sometimes you would mimic him, emphasizing certain syllables, like how he tended to say ‘anythang’ and he would just roll his eyes or kiss you in that way of his where he reminded you just how much you loved it.
Because, in reality his accent drove you wild and you found everything about him to be incredibly sexy. You’d never outright admitted it, but he never missed an opportunity to let you know that he was perfectly aware of it all the same.
Rick shook his head with amusement, bringing you back to the present moment.
“What’re you doing out here anyway?” He asked.
“I wanted to talk to you about something. Hershel asked if I could go on a run to get some medical supplies he needs.”
“Who’re you going with?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I just wanted to let you know in case I’m not back for a while.”
Rick frowned and you just knew that his protective instincts were kicking in.
“Baby, can’t it wait ‘til tomorrow?” He asked.
“Why?”
“I’ll go with you,” he said it so simply, like it was something he still did all the time.
“I thought you weren’t doing stuff like that anymore…”
“It’s just a supply run,” he pointed out. “And I could use a day off.”
“Okay,” you agreed. “We can head out in the morning.”
He nodded and you turned to head back up to the prison, but he stopped you. Rick wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and bent his head to give your cheek an affectionate kiss.
“Omega…” he murmured against your skin. “You’re just gonna walk off without saying goodbye?”
You melted a little from how sweet he could be at times, and the way his fingers traced light patters through the material of your shirt was undeniably tantalizing.
“Don’t you have work to do, cowboy?” You asked him playfully. “I don't want to distract you.”
“Just you being here is a distraction,” he retorted, moving his mouth down to the curve of your neck.
You pulled away slightly until you could turn to face him again. You faltered a little, seeing the look he was giving you. Rick’s gaze had become heated, and it wasn’t the first time that the intensity in his eyes had thrown you off. You hadn’t been together for very long, but he always seemed to look at you with such open desire and admiration.
Unlike you, Rick had no problems with being open about his feelings. But he was an alpha and they were supposed to be confident and strong. You, on the other hand, had never really been a typical omega. You were too independent, too headstrong, too capable of defending yourself, too much of what an omega wasn’t.
Most alphas you’d encountered in your life either found that to be a turnoff or took it as their chance to ‘fix’ you. Because of that, you’d never actually been with an alpha before Rick, always dating betas instead. While he worried and got protective over you, he was never overbearing or domineering, and it all stemmed from the genuine care he held for you.
Yet, despite all of that, the idea of being vulnerable around him still filled you with trepidation. You kept that side of you hidden, because you didn’t want to be underestimated even more than you usually were by people who didn’t know you well enough. But deep down, you liked Rick’s protectiveness and you wanted to show your more sensitive side. You just weren’t sure how to yet.
Pushing those thoughts aside, you brought your focus back to Rick and the present moment. Letting your fingers curl around the collar of his shirt, you pulled him closer and gave him exactly what he wanted by bringing his lips to yours. His hold on you tightened and he started to deepen the kiss, but you pulled away again.
“You should get back to work, cowboy,” you told him playfully, masking the inner conflict you felt.
Yet, Rick frowned, likely picking up on it through your scent anyway.
“Okay,” he said softly, apparently letting it go for now. “I’ll come find you later.”
You gave him another quick kiss before turning around again and heading back towards the infirmary, intending to tell Hershel that you wouldn’t be going out until the next day.
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The town you had picked out wasn’t exactly close to the prison, so Rick was glad that you’d both decided to head out early in the morning. Still, he couldn’t help but to feel on edge due to the fact that your destination was the local hospital. Sure, it would hopefully have everything Hershel would need, but it would also be crawling with walkers.
He had just wanted some time alone with you, away from everyone else, but now Rick was mentally kicking himself for not organizing a bigger group for the task. He knew you could handle yourself, but that didn’t stop his inner alpha from getting the urge to protect you and make sure you didn’t run into any danger. On a trip like this though, danger was inevitable.
“Hey, let’s check out that pharmacy first,” you pointed to a building further down the street. “It might have some of the stuff we need.”
Before Rick could even begin to respond, you were already jogging towards it.
“Y/N!” He called out after you, wishing you were a little more cautious about these things.
“Keep up, cowboy!” You teased him, never once slowing down.
Rick sighed when you disappeared into the building and ran to catch up. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that there were a few walkers in there with you. But as he took care of the one closest to him, you pushed one of the others away before plunging your knife into the third one’s head. After that was taken care of, you bent down to kill the second one, which had fallen over after you shoved it away from you.
Rick wanted to admonish you for not being more careful and just running in there recklessly, but ultimately, you’d had it handled. Just like you always did… You straightened back up after pulling your knife back out of the walker’s skull and wiping it clean on its tattered clothes. Then you turned to face Rick, evidently catching the annoyed look on his face as you did.
“What?” You asked.
“Nothing,” he groused, knowing it was useless to say anything.
“Okay, grumbles,” you teased him with a smile before taking in the empty shelves of the pharmacy. “Damn, this place has been wiped clean.”
Your observation was stating the obvious, as there was quite literally nothing left.
“C’mon,” Rick gestured back to the street with his head. “We shouldn’t waste any more time.”
“Do you think the hospital is still worth checking out?” You asked as you both left the store again. “It could’ve been looted by now too.”
“Maybe,” Rick agreed. “But we should at least go and see.”
He didn’t like it, because he knew it would be worse than the pharmacy and likely completely overrun by walkers. But he also knew that the trip would be a waste if you both didn’t at least find out. So, you both continued on towards the hospital, with Rick trying to ignore his growing uneasiness.
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Something was off with Rick; you’d picked it up in his scent all day and it just seemed to get worse as the hours passed you by. It was usually comforting and gave off a calm sense of confidence, but now there was an edge to it like something was bothering him at an instinctual level. The weirdest part was how it wasn’t even unpleasant – just notably different.
You tried to ignore it as you looked through your binoculars and observed the outside of the hospital from a safe distance. But his scent wrapped around you more than usual, almost like it was trying to coax some kind of reaction out of you.
“Think these are the guys who cleared out the pharmacy?” You asked Rick, scanning the front of the building.
There were two men with machine guns standing outside and talking together. You both knew there must be more of them inside, and walkers were no longer the issue you would have to deal with.
“Yeah,” Rick muttered from beside you, his scent suddenly becoming more prominent.
“Are you okay?” You questioned, turning your head to look at him. “Your scent is… I don’t know, but it’s stronger than usual.”
“I’m fine,” he frowned in response. “Let’s just work out what we’re gonna do and get out of here.”
“Okay,” you relented, deciding to drop it for now. “So, do we take them on? They don’t exactly look friendly; I doubt they’re willing to share whatever they’ve got stashed away in there.”
“We should just leave it,” Rick suggested. “We don’t have a reason to attack them. We can find the supplies somewhere else.”
You almost agreed with him, but it also seemed like these guys were just hoarding stuff because they could, while there were children and older people at the prison who likely needed it more. You weren’t ready to give up on the trip just yet, especially when you knew there had to be some good stuff inside. Maybe even more than you’d been expecting to find when you set out earlier that morning.
“Okay, you’re not gonna like this –” you started to say.
“Y/N…” Rick’s tone was full of warning as he cut you off.
“Just hear me out,” you argued. “No one’s guarding that side entrance over there, see? I can sneak in and see if I can find anything and get a feel for the place. But you need to stay here.”
“No way,” he denied you without hesitating.
“Your scent will give us away, Rick,” you pointed out. “Anyone could smell you from a mile off right now. It’s a wonder those two haven’t already.”
“You’re an omega. They’ll pick up on that too.”
“I’ll be fine,” you tried to placate him and handed over the binoculars. “Just stay here. I won’t be long.”
You were already moving away from him before Rick could retort – yet again. He groaned in frustration, briefly wondering if his scent really was that strong or if it had just been an excuse to make him stay behind. But Rick knew you would have acknowledged the fact that you’d work better together, so he begrudgingly accepted that you’d asked him to stay there for a good reason.
He looked through the binoculars, tension swirling through him as he watched you approach the unguarded entrance. You were keeping low to the ground, making sure you wouldn’t be spotted, and Rick was at least grateful that you weren’t approaching the building recklessly like you had at the pharmacy. But his relief was short lived, as you then disappeared inside, and he was left to wonder what was going on within those walls.
He became more agitated and restless as time seemed to drag on at a torturously slow pace. He was itching to just go in and make sure you were okay, but the knowledge that they might pick up on his scent and that alerting them would put you in danger was the only thing holding him back. Yet, when he heard a gunshot ring out and the two men guarding the door reacted by rushing inside, Rick’s instincts took over.
He sprinted over to the entrance, drawing his Python from his holster as he did. He was so on edge that he could hear the pounding beat of his heart drumming away in his ears. Rick pushed his back against the wall to the side of the entrance and peered inside cautiously, forcing himself to be tactical rather than just barge in like he wanted to.
He saw that the two guards were walking slowly down the hall, clearly trepidatious since they also weren’t sure what they were getting themselves into as they went to investigate the signs of a disturbance that had rung out. One of them called out a name, likely checking to see if everything inside was okay. Rick waited tensely, also wanting to see if he needed to make a move or not. Maybe you were okay, and it had just been a coincidence or the result of some trigger-happy idiot.
But then another couple of gunshots rang out and Rick’s frustration reached its boiling point. He was done guessing. He pushed his body away from the wall and turned towards the entrance, letting two of his own shots ring out, hitting both men in the backs of their heads and watching their bodies slump down onto the floor.
He didn’t care in that moment, pushing aside the fact that he’d been trying to put all the killing behind him. Because Rick had picked up on your scent after that third gunshot and it was filled with distress. He had never sensed that in you, which just made him more anxious. There had been fear and worry in the past, when things had gone wrong, but never the raw panic that was there now.
So, Rick didn’t hesitate and headed further into the building, seeking you out and hoping that he wasn’t too late.
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Things had been quiet when you first entered the hospital and it set your mind at ease, because you felt like you were correct in your suspicion that there weren’t many of them. You snuck through the halls, peering into rooms and keeping an ear out in case anyone was nearby. It disappointed you to find everything looking fairly empty, with everything useful seeming to have been ransacked.
“Do you smell that?”
You froze, sensing that the voice had come from just around the corner.
“No… what?” Another one replied.
“’Course you don’t, you’re a beta,” the first voice muttered with slight annoyance. “There’s an omega’s scent. Someone’s here.”
You panicked slightly, realizing your plan to sneak in and out unnoticed had definitely failed. There was some slight hesitation within you, as you debated between unholstering either your knife or your gun, but there were two of them, so you decided on the latter.
As you tightened your grip around the handle and raised it up in front of you, the two men finally turned the corner and paused, leaving the three of you in a standoff. The alpha had raised his gun instinctively as soon as he saw you, while the beta, who stood a little behind him, was slower to react.
“You lost or something, omega?” The alpha asked you gruffly.
“I need supplies,” you replied coldly. “I’m betting you have enough to go around.”
“Like hell we do. All the shit here’s ours, we ain’t sharin’.”
He looked you up and down then, eyeing you in a way that made your blood boil.
“Maybe we’ll take you too,” he suggested. “Ain’t many omegas around anymore.”
He took a step closer, and you cocked back the hammer of your revolver, getting ready to shoot.
“Don’t move,” you warned him.
“What’re you gonna do?” The alpha patronized you. “You ever even fired that thing?”
“Take another step and find out,” you seethed.
“Sugar, this ain’t a game,” he moved forward again. “Now, drop th–”
You pulled the trigger, getting him right between the eyes. You barely processed his body going limp before you were pointing the gun at the beta who had remained silent during your exchange with the now dead alpha.
“He was right about one thing at least,” you told the beta calmly. “This isn’t a game. Hands up.”
He reluctantly complied, raising his arms to show that he wasn’t going to act as stupidly as his friend had.
“You make any sudden moves and you’ll be the next one to get a bullet in the brain.”
The beta nodded before his eyes briefly flicked behind you. There wasn’t time to react, as you realized one of them must have snuck up on you, because you were pushed to the ground almost immediately after. The gun fell from your hands as you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you, but you were quick to try and reach it again.
It was another alpha who had now climbed on top of you, and he pulled your head back by gripping onto your hair tightly. You groaned from the pain, but never stopped trying to reach for the gun. When your fingers finally wrapped around the grip again, the alpha turned you over roughly, his hands now reaching up to your throat.
“Don’t just stand there, you idiot,” the new alpha yelled at the useless beta who still hadn’t made a move. “Get the damned gun off her!”
His fingers started to tighten around your neck, and you began gasping for air. As the beta was brought out of his stupor, you panicked and lifted the gun up to aim it at him. The trigger was pulled before you even had time to really think about it, and the bullet hit him in the chest, causing him to stagger forward and then fall on his knees. You pulled it another time, this time getting him in the head and you briefly hoped that it had lodged into his brain. But that was the least of your worries, as you struggled with the lack of oxygen you were still experiencing.
You bent your arms to try and aim it at the alpha instead and he finally relinquished his merciless grip around your neck. Unfortunately, the action just caused you to let out a choked gasp and then a desperate inhale as air filled your lungs again. He took it as his opportunity to lean forward and try to wrestle the gun from your hands. You pulled the trigger once more in an act of desperation, fear completely overcoming you in that moment. But the bullet just went up into the roof and the alpha continued to try and overpower you.
But then by some miracle, his grip loosened, and he was pushed away from you. Turning onto your side, you coughed a few times as your throat still felt sore from the way he'd been squeezing down on it. Rick was focused on the other alpha, absolutely furious as the force of his fist brought the asshole down onto the floor. He glanced at you briefly, seeing that you were okay for the most part, but still struggling to get your breathing back to normal. Yet, when he caught sight of the discolored skin around your throat, with the imprint of the other alpha’s fingers there, he saw red.
He rounded on the other man again, bringing his fists down relentlessly while the bastard struggled to try and gain the upper hand. Rick vaguely noted the way you stood up on slightly shaky legs and closed the distance between the two of you. A final shot rang out as you fired another bullet into the alpha’s head, bringing an abrupt end to Rick’s assault on him.
“He… he’s not worth it,” you told Rick, your voice hoarse after the recent assault on your throat.
Rick stood up, clearly still fuming as he regarded you irately.
“He could have killed you, Y/N,” he yelled, gesturing to your neck and the tender skin there. “Do you have a death wish or something? I tried to tell you this was a bad idea, why don’t you ever listen?”
You had never felt so vulnerable around Rick as you did in that moment. You had truly been terrified that you wouldn’t make it through that alive. But he had come for you and while you knew that he was right about you being reckless and that his anger was coming from a place of protectiveness, you still hated that he was mad at you.
So, before he could get another word out, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him in a grateful hug. Rick hesitated for just a moment before he returned your tight embrace, his head falling to the crook of your neck as he let out a sigh of relief. For the first time, you let him see a more sensitive side of you, because if there was any alpha in the world that you felt safe around like that, it was him.
But his anger and frustration hadn't faded yet and you let out a startled gasp as he pushed you against the nearest wall. Despite his agitation, you melted into his hold as Rick turned his head and began pressing frantic kisses along your mating gland in an attempt to calm himself down. It felt so good and so right, and it caused your inner omega to feel completely and utterly content. His lips were soft against your sensitive skin and a rush of desire swept through you from how he teased all of your senses by stimulating that single spot. When his tongue darted out, licking along the entirety of the gland that was still smooth and unclaimed, you let out a desperate moan.
"You're gonna learn to listen," he practically growled out against your skin.
The underlying warning that was in his tone caused your stubborn nature to rise within you.
"Or what?" You challenged him.
Rick's teeth bit down onto your gland and you realized with surprise that you were disappointed because he didn't break into the skin. You had never even seriously considered him claiming you, but that one small action left you yearning for it.
"Don't push me, omega," he warned you again, his fingers digging into your waist through the material of your shirt.
"What're you gonna do, cowboy?" You asked him again, wanting to do exactly that.
You weren't just surprised by this new dominant side he was showing, but you were also surprised by how much you liked it. Maybe you should have been worried, because he seemed less in control of himself than usual, but your own mind and body seemed to be drifting away from any sense of logic and all you could really consider was how badly you wanted him in that moment.
Rick gave you his answer by biting down harder and it didn't matter that the skin was already sore from what had just happened. Your mating gland was one of the most sensitive parts of your body, so the action only made you feel overcome with desire. You knew it would likely leave a mark - even if it wasn't the one you suddenly craved - but you didn't care and instinct took over. You tilted your head up slightly, letting your nose rest against his own scent gland before you breathed him in, almost feeling addicted to the sense of comfort he so effortlessly gave you. But you picked up on something else there too and you suddenly became worried again.
“Oh shit,” you breathed out. “Rick, you’re going into a rut…”
It all made sense to you. How on edge he’d been all day, the way his scent had become stronger than usual and now it was just obvious with your nose pressed to his mating gland.
"I know," was all he said, because of course he knew.
What was strange though, was how suddenly it had escalated. But considering the danger he'd found you in, it wasn't really that hard to believe. The whole thing probably caused his inner alpha to become desperate to claim you as his own. Even if he didn't bite into your mating gland, just spending his rut with you would likely be enough to satiate his need to prove that you belonged to him, that you were his to protect. Rick pulled back a little to look at you and you realized that you had never seen him look that turned on before. You squeezed your legs together a little as your own desire grew.
“You’ll have to stay with me,” he pointed out.
You knew what he meant. If you stayed out of his sight, he would go crazy with worry and just come and find you anyway, due to how much an alpha’s instincts took over during their rut. More to the point, he would still be able to pick up on your scent and that alone would mean that there was no way he would be able to stay away from you.
No matter what, you were about to experience an alpha’s rut for the first time, and it made you a little nervous.
“I won’t hurt you, baby,” Rick promised, knowing about your trepidation regarding the whole thing. “Just trust me.”
You nodded and Rick looked into the room behind you before apparently deciding that it would have to do. When he stepped away from you and gave you a chance to look, you saw that that there was a simple but clean hospital bed, yet practically nothing else.
“Wait here,” you told him. “I’ll find some stuff to barricade the door.”
But he tugged on your arm as you turned to leave and brought you close to him again.
“I can’t wait that long, ‘mega,” he murmured huskily in your ear.
Your eyes widened as you felt his hardened, but covered length poking into your back and you realized again just how quickly his rut had advanced. Rick’s arms wrapped around you, holding you there against him as his lips returned to your scent gland and his hands began exploring your body.
“Baby, I need you now,” he told you insistently.
And as he continued to tease you in every possible way, you knew that it was pointless to try and resist, because not only was his rut now in full force, but a familiar sense of heated and uncontrollable desire had begun building up within you too.
--
Next Part
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94 notes · View notes
ghostalservice · 2 years
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Frenchie FuckFest!
Do YOU love Frenchie?
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We do! That’s why we’re running Frenchie FuckFest, where a group of authors (including ME!) are all giving Frenchie a chance to shine. 
Featuring works by CartoonMayor, CobaltAugust, Demolitionwoman, Foxtails, Ghostalservice, Heartroots, Skrifores, Theveriest, and Wardrobespierre! 
See what’s been posted so far below the cut, and check back or subscribe to the series to see what’s still to come (spoiler: MANY more phenomenal fics)!
Day 1: A Cook and a Musician Walk Into a Kitchen by @bonesofyourheart Frenchie/Roach. 
Roach is always up very early in the morning prepping meals for the crew of the Revenge. Frenchie suffers from insomnia. Some mornings when Frenchie wakes up earlier than he'd like, he goes down to keep Roach company in the kitchen. This is the story of one such morning when Frenchie has morning wood and he and Roach hook up.
Day 2: Give the Sea Her Due by @demolitionwoman-blog. Frenchie/Buttons/The Sea?
Buttons is basking in the moonglow. Frenchie joins him.
Day 3: Mum's the word by CobaltAugust. Frenchie/Izzy
There was a passage near the rec room that led to a small room that had, until recently, been used for storage. It was now occupied by Izzy. Frenchie ducked into the passage to wait until dinner. He’d assumed Izzy would be with his captain, but when Frenchie approached the door to Izzy’s quarters he heard a faint noise – a grunting, groaning noise.
Day 4: Fuque Non by @ghostalservice (me!). Frenchie/Stede (sort of)
Frenchie's not sure what the Captain's deal is, but he's going to give it a go.
Day 5: Easy Come, Easy Go by @skrifores. Frenchie/Fang
Frenchie, held on the Revenge after the end of Season One, misses Wee John. He finds some comfort and support in Fang.
The point is, he thought he was prepared to lose more stuff. That’s life, innit? Easy come, easy go. Fall in love with Cara for a couple of nights til it turns out she has a husband - oops - have an on-off with the boatswain til he gets demons all up in his blood - it’s a bit shitty, but. Bit of a price for freedom, and a bit of a prize too. Never know how long you’re gonna keep stuff, but you get to have it. Could be dead tomorrow anyway, so.
Day 6: Oh Yah by @zombee. Frenchie/The Swede
The Swede has never had his dick sucked. Frenchie is intrigued.
Day 7: Afterparty by wardrobespierre. Frenchie/Lucius
Lucius's plans to get railed into oblivion have fallen through; Frenchie looks good in his posh outfit.
---
“Fuck’s sake - what do you want me to say?” Lucius was giggling now, giddy with the headiness of Frenchie’s proximity. He always smelled a little like cloves, for some inexplicable reason, and it had never been as appealing as it was right now.
“Say something ridiculous, like that you want to fuck me.”
Lucius stopped laughing. Frenchie’s eyes were full of heat, and his smile was wicked.
Day 8: Vibe Check by theveriest. Jim/Frenchie
The vibes on board the Revenge after Stede leaves are absolutely rancid. Frenchie is doing his best to help.
Day 9: Life’s a Trip by @skrifores . Frenchie/Ed
Stede has an interest in watching Ed hook-up with someone else; Frenchie is happy to oblige.
Day 10: like room people do by @ratchet​  Frenchie/Wee John
"I mean, fucking isn’t room exclusive. Pete and Lucius don’t have a room—hasn’t stopped them going at it every which where."
"But it’s something that you think might be…better? If you’ve got a room to do it in?"
Frenchie shifts and rolls over, squinting through the dark and trying to pull John into focus. He’s got an inkling what this is about, and he’s never been one to shy away from saying what needs to be said.
"You know you can just ask, babes."
or: we should just fuck (like room people do)
Day 11: Mess in the Mess by @demolitionwoman-blog​ Frenchie/Ivan
Ivan surprises Frenchie in the kitchen, and then Frenchie surprises him.
Day 12: Midnight Watch by me! @ghostalservice​ Frenchie/Black Pete
Frenchie and Pete aren't invited to Spanish Jackie's.
Pete slumps a bit and joins Frenchie by the railing, elbows on the polished wood. “I hate being on watch when we’re in port,” he admits. “Boring.”
Frenchie tucks the snuffbox back in his pocket and turns slightly, shifting until his body faces Pete’s. Boredom is a luxury, and one Pete doesn’t appreciate. He shrugs, stretching his body out as he leans on the railing. “Doesn’t have to be.”
Coming up next: A few more crew members!
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I feel like it is only time I make a stoner fic🤗hope you enjoy!!
*tw*: use of marijuana, stoner thoughts(im so sorry😵‍💫), if there's any more pls lmk and I'll add them!
It was no secret amongst the school that sapnap smoked weed. He talked about, he posted on social media about ut, he even got caught once smoking it in the back parking lot.
So when my mind was desperate for a chill out moment, he was the perfect person to help. I messaged him in search of a good time.
Hey, do you think I could buy from you?
What are you looking for?
Quarter ounce
Meet me here
2848 hasbul drive
He set the date for tomorrow night at 6pm. I requested enough that I could use tomorrow as well as this weekend so when j went to the location, and saw his car I climbed in with the money.
"Hey you got the cash?" I nodded as I hand him the money in exchange for a green bag.
"Quarter ounce?" He nodded as I opened the door and returned to my vehicle. Before I could even open the door he was gone and my phone rang.
Let me know how you like it
I left the message opened and didn't bother with a reply as I got in my car and headed home.
Upon arriving I see that all the lights are off which is good because it means everyone's asleep. I soundlessly slip inside my room and pull out the bag along with my pipe. I proceed to pack it and grab my lighter.
The first hit always hits the hardest so I have to take a minute to not let my coughs get too loud.
After about 3 or 4 hits, I sit back for a minute and just stare at my lights which are colored red.
I wonder what it would feel like to be floating right now. I bet it would feel nice. I have to make sure to thank sapnap for getting me this weed.
Wow, sapnap is such a great guy, his hair is amazing, he's so fucking cute but I can't tell him that because he'd never feel the same way. I wonder what he's doing right now, I wonder if he's thinking of me.
As I continue to think about him, I just feel myself getting happier. I want to talk to him right now and be with him, I want him to be with me. He would make this experience so much better. I should call him and tell him.
I dont need to call him, I can see him right now, he's in the room with me. That's concerning how'd he get in here, oh shut up logic. Come here lover boy. And if that doesn't work.
*I was gonna wait til I was high to put genuine stoner thoughts but I have none and haven't smoked in a couple of days.*
The next day at school I'm pissed and it's known to everyone except a certain someone who can't keep his hands away from me.
"Hey, how'd you like the za?" I shoot him a side eye to which he furrows his brow.
"I bet you would know wouldn't you," I say as I shove past him.
"Why are you mad at me? I helped you out?" I scoff.
"Helped me out? Are you shitting me?" I turn my voice lower as I look around at on lookers. I grab his arm and pull him to the side of the hallway.
"You fucking laced it." His eyes go wide.
"What the fuck do you mean?" He asked bewildered.
"When I smoked it and started feeling it, all I saw was you. So what the fuck did you put in it?" He looks like he's seen a ghost or he's listening to someone speak gibberish.
"What do you mean all you saw was me?" He asks
"You, your face, your body, as if you were in the room next to me. And there was this weird feeling in my chest, my heart was pounding." He takes a breath, and then starts to... laugh.
I stare at him as if he's disappeared before my eyes.
"What the hell is so funny to you?" He chuckles a little before talking some calming breaths.
"Sorry, sorry, I'm done, I'm done" He coughs before continuing. I stare at him expectantly.
"I hate to inform you but thats not laced weed. You have a crush on me."
"Are you fucking stupid? I don't have a crush on you, you fucking laced that shit." He smirks before taking one step closer, making our bodies practically chest to chest.
"Its ok, I like you too. When you asked to buy from me I wasn't surprised but I was a little disappointed that that was all you wanted from me." I stare at him, shocked.
"No, i- I don't have- wait what? You like me?" He smiles and puts a hand on my hip.
"Yeah, I've liked you for a while and I've tried to flirt with you before." I think back to the math class I have with him.
"Wow, I'm an idiot." I look at him and he says nothing.
"You're supposed to disagree with me." He laughs.
"Sure thing, whatever you say." He smiles and we walk to class together.
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fckwritersblock · 3 years
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More Than Therapy
Bucky x black!reader
Warning: sooooo there is smut ahead. Okay like, not complete filth but it’s there! Who even knows what this is, but enjoy it!
Pic below from post by @afriendlyblackhottie
(Unedited.)
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“Look, I’m not saying that she’s not a great therapist, I’m just think that she’s not your style.”
Bucky didn’t hide his eye roll.
For the past 2 weeks, Sam had been trying to convince him he needed a second option. Ever since he had his own encounter with Bucky’s therapist, which consisted of being forcefully included in one of their sessions, he could see it wasn’t really helping Bucky at all. Not that Sam was an expert or anything, he just knew his.....friend.
“Alright Sam, fine.” Bucky sighed tossing the wrench to the side. “So what. I kick my therapist to curb, then what? You got some kind of recommendation or something?”
Sam just smirked before turning and making his way off the boat.
“Actually I do.”
Now here Bucky was, waiting on another person to come and try to break down all his walls and get in his head and help him with through his ‘issues’.
“Waste of time.” He mumbled to his self.
However, when she walked in the door, that thought quickly left.
“I’m Y/n.”
“James”
“It’s nice to meet you James.”
For the first time in a very long time Bucky felt comfortable almost immediately. The conversation didn’t feel forced, he didn’t feel pressured, it was just easy. Y/n didn’t push and pry. She simply let him answer the way he want and what he wanted. She let him sort of control the conversation. It was refreshing.
From then on, he saw her twice a week. Their first two weeks together was just them getting to know one another. Establishing trust on Buckys end. He appreciated that for once the woman so much pressure for him to be OK so soon. Finally, after about a month or so, they were doing a little exercises here and there to work through his trauma. The first assignment, it was actually pretty similar to the last psychiatrist he had seen. To get out and make at least one friend. Find an activity or something that he enjoys.
“So have you been getting out like we discussed?”
“Yeah I’ve gone out.” He nodded carelessly with a grin as he sat across the table from her.
Y/n raised an eyebrow. “To places besides the bar.”
“Yes.”
“Liar.” She said and it was her turn to grin as she held her hand out.
He sighed and rolled his eyes, handing over his phone. Bucky watched her click a few buttons knowing she was checking his contacts. This was like Deja vu.
“You have the same amount of numbers in your phone as last week Barnes.”
“Not true Doc, I have you.” He smiled sheepishly.
“I hardly count Barnes.” A small smile graced her face nonetheless.
She was quiet for a moment and he took that opportunity to study her. In deep thought. Y/n had a tell. She’d bite the corner of her bottom lip on the right side every time she was trying to figure something out. Usually before she came up with his homework before the next session.
“I have a thought but you’re not gonna like it.” She began after while.
“Lay it on Doc.”
“I don’t feel like you are actively trying to be a part of society. What you’ve been doing, trying to right your wrongs of the other guy...” she drifted for a moment. “It’s futile. You don’t need to do that. That-“
Y/n paused taking a deep breath.
“That’s not you.” She spoke softly.
“But that is me! I am winter soldier!” He yelled on his feet quickly.
Anger. He was familiar with the feeling. Angry was something he just couldn’t seem to stop feeling. Even if he didn’t show it, it was like he was angry all the time. However feeling it with her was unfamiliar. And he could feel the inner turmoil of him taking his frustrations out on her as he tried to push that anger back down.
“Were.” Y/n stated with finality, voice strong. “You were the winter Solider. And that wasn’t you. That’s just a couple of dark chapters in the book of your life. That’s it.
“You don’t know m-“
“But that is not you.” She repeated a little louder commanding forcing him to look her dead in the eyes. “That’s not who you are, James. And while I may not have known you pre-hydra, or during, but I’m knowing you now. And that’s just not you.”
Y/n leaned back in her chair.
“I know that here, Bucky.” She grinned a little placing her hand over her heart and tapped twice. “And deep down, so do you.”
“. You, James Buchanan Barnes, you are not the bad guy.
The anger he had been feeling had subsided and I was replaced with something that was completely unfamiliar to him. Something he longed for couldn’t quite the grass. Something that he didn’t even realize was in within his reach until noon.. The feeling, regardless of how unfamiliar it was with something Bucky didn’t think he wanted to go away.
The silence between them was comfortable. Y/n could tell that he was processing her words. It was a good thing, she could because he was no longer good tense and his stance was relaxed instead of defensive.
“You know what? We’re finished for today. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She declared.
“What?” Bucky snapped out of his tranced and frowned. “Doc, come on. I shouldn’t be seeing you til Thursday.”
“Yeah tomorrow,” she nodded with a smile. “I want to try something different.”
The next day but he showed up at their usual time, 11 AM. When he stopped at a reception to ask for Dr. Y/n they informed him she was out for the day. He frowned and turned to leave only to find her approaching him from the elevator.
“Hey! You ready to go?” Y/n offered a gentle smile.
“I thought we were-“ he asked went fo point back toward her office but she stopped him.
“We are. We’re just doing things differently today.” She informed him, before nodding her head toward the elevator. “Let’s go.”
Their day together was eventful to say the least. Their first stop was her favorite coffee spot. It was actually a little hole in the wall called Hippies Brew in the downtown area. A cool modern place full of friendly and eccentric individuals. It was comfortable. Homey. It wasnt one she’d typically recommend clients, but she would recommend it to friends. After that they were too the aquarium followed by the park where they sat on a park bench for lunch. Lunch being tacos from the El Gordo’s taco truck parked near by. Well a lot of the time at the park or spit in silence, it was still comfortable as a people watched together. While Bucky hated to admit it, this is the first time he really just felt at peace. There was no one looking over him with some unrealistic expectation of him to be Steve, and become so hero he wasn’t. There was no pressure to get his shit together right then and there. He was just simply allowed to be Bucky. Unapologetically.
“Walk with me?” He asked.
Y/n raised an eyebrow, surprised he initiated doing something together, but agreed with a smile.
Soon enough they easily fell into conversation of as they began to walk the lake.
Before they knew it, the sun was beginning to set. Their time together lasted longer than Y/n planned but either was it was nice. She enjoyed today, as did he. Bucky’s offered to walk her back to her car, savoring their last few moments together.
“Are you sure I can’t give you a ride home?” Y/n asked as they got closer to her car in the now empty lot.
“Yeah, Doc, lm sure.” He smiled back at her, her smile and laugh being infectious. “I like walking. It gives me time to think. it’s peaceful. Kind of like today.”
Y/n’s smile widened at his confession. So her idea did work. He was making progress.
“ That’s what you deserve James peace. I can’t promise every day is gonna be like this.” She turned away approaching the driver side door. “I mean, it is life there are going to be some bad days. But you do deserve some peace. Some happiness.
She turned to see that he was a lot closer than she thought saying that he was preparing to open the door for her. She swallowed, suddenly feel in the air around them shift. As she ran her tongue over her lips, Bucky’s eyes zeroed in on the action.
“You just have to let yourself have it.” She said softly.
It was in that exact moment where James decided he was going to do just that; let himself have happiness. And without thinking, he leaned forward and connected his lips with her.
He pulled away almost as soon as it happened eyes wide.
“James…” y/n finger tips traced her lips as she stared at him.
“I am, i, I don’t know-“ Bucky stuttered.
He went to take a step back but was stopped. This time it was her who initiated the kiss.
What started off as gentle, turned into her fisting a handful of his shirt put him closer with his hands wrapped around her waist. The heat that washed over them both, was like a moth to a flame. The passion poured into the kiss from both ends quickly consuming them both. The two fighting for a dominance, it wasn’t until they both harshly pushed against her car setting the alarm off that they snapped out of it.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry wh-“ Y/n’s eyes were wide as she looked around anxiously.
Bucky could sense her panicking.
“y/n-“
“ I am so sorry. That was highly inappropriate of me-“
“Breathe for me doll-“ he reached for her but she pulled her hand away shaking her head vigorously.
“I can’t, we can’t, I have never.” She took a deep breath, her next words still coming out shaky. “I’m so sorry. To take a vantage of you like that-“
“I was the one who-“ he attempted once more to no avail.
“I have to go. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” She rushed out, flinging her door open and getting in the car.
All Bucky could do was watch as she wasted no time peeling out of the parking lot.
That was the last he had seen or heard of her. It had been almost two weeks and she had canceled both his weekly sessions and hadn’t answered any of his calls or returned any of the messages he left both at the office and on her cell phone.
And boy, was he stressed about it.
He had never felt that kind of passion before. To be honest it was something he didn’t think he was capable of feeling. He had been consumed by anger for so long, he wanted to cling onto whatever else, anything else. Bucky would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel the chemistry between them. He came to the conclusion he’d been falling for her for a while, and was clearly in denial until that day they spent the day together. It’s not like he was trying to fall for his therapist. But now that he had...Ge had to at least try. Make sure what he was feeling wasn’t one sided.That spark. It was a feeling, a high he had never felt. One he knew he’d forever be chasing and he wanted it again and again and again. So when the third week approached he decided to take matters into his own hands.
A knock her door tore her away from Grey’s Anatomy.
“Coming!”
Pulling her dress down, she went and answered the door.
“Bucky.” She said his name breathlessly.
“Y/n.” He breathed out, happy to be in her presence even though it hurt slightly to hear her suddenly calling him Bucky.
He quite liked when she called him James. He liked the way she said his name.
“What are you-, how.” She tried to control her breathing. “You can’t be here.”
“I need you,” he signed. “To hear me out.”
“Bucky-“
“James.” He corrected her. “Look, I know this totally inappropriate but I-“
James paused taking in her appearance, noticing the purple bruising around her lower right eye above her cheekbone.
“Who?” He questioned through gritted teeth.
“Huh?”
He huffed pushing past her and moving in and around the apartment as if someone would come out and confess. He turned toward her a wild look in his eye.
“Give me. A name, Y/n.”
“James....” she signed.
While he knew she was talking seeing as her lips were moving, It was like he could hear her but he wasn’t hearing her. Bucky couldn’t focus on anything other than a bruise on the side of Y/n’s beautiful face. It had been along time since Bucky had thought of actually hurting somebody, save for John Walker last week which was another story entirely, whoever did this to her face though, he wanted to hurt them bad and he was going to enjoy it. His eyes traveled down toward her lips and he still couldn’t hear her. All he could hear was his fist repeated smashing into said individuals face. Over, and over, over-
“James!”
The sound of her voice finally resonated and he finally focused on her words.
“Come back to me James.” Her voice was gently. Inviting.
Everything he noticed both her hands on the side of his face, her thumb rubbing soothingly.
“It’s fine.” She said slowly removing her hands away as she explained. “There’s no need to hunt anyone down. Just a regular 50150 patient and things got out of hand. It happens.”
“No one should touch you.” He stated with seriousness.
Y/n stared at him for a moment, the right side of her lip pulled between her teeth, eyes pooling with something he hadn’t seen in her before. She shrugged nonchalantly.
“I kind of like it when you touch me.”
Her voice was barely above a whisper but he heard her loud and clear.
Just like before, it started off with light kisses, which soon turned into a bit of teasing, a little lip nipping, before things got extremely heated. Both his shirt had been discarded while the straps of her dress were pulled down revealing her black Savage Fenty bra. They had somehow moved from the living room to the kitchen island. Bucky stood between her legs one hand tangled in her braids while her hands held the sides of her face, gently caressing the stubble. Her legs were wrapped around his middles as she began grinding her hips into him. He pulled her closer, the both of them on a high from the friction. Bucky’s metal hand traveled up her bare back giving her goosebumps. They broke apart for air and as soon as Y/n had enough oxygen in her lungs, she went back to licking, kissing and sucking on his neck.
"Shit, Y/n.” Bucky unconsciously tilted his head back giving her better access, his hands palming her ass as his hips bucked into her.
"James." Y/n pulled back panting, lips swollen. " I want you. Now."
Bucky made quick work of removing her panties that coated in her juices , and in return y/n quickly unbuckled his pants using her feet to aid her in pushing them down.
“Shit.” He groaned immediately as she whimpered slightly at the feel of him sliding into her.
Her arms were wound around his neck while his hand gripped the top of her ass to keep her in place as he begin to slowly thrust in and out of her.
Bucky was on a high. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this level of intimacy. Euphoria. He was sure this feeling should be illegal.
The way she were wrapped around him, he knew if he didn’t take it semi slow he wasn’t going to last.
“James,” she moaned, clawing at his back, walls clenching.
He wasn’t sure what sounded sweeter; her moaning or his name leaving her lips.
“Doll?” He responded, kissing the at the base of her neck.
I’m clos-“ Y/n sucked in a breath of air. “Right there.”
“There?” He asked spreading her ass cheeks apart so he could go deeper.
“Yes! Right there!”
It was a bit sloppy from there as Bucky shifted for a better angle. Her ass halfway off the table as he picked up the pace bit her her closer to the edge. He was bouncing her up and down on his shaft effortlessly. Her arms wrapped right around his neck, kiss sloppy as she bit her lip to keep her moans at bay.
“No,” he breathed out, reaching up with one hand forcing her to kissing him, her moans filling his mouth instead. “I want to hear you.”
“James, I’m-“
“I know.”
The sight of Y/n coming undone before him was a glorious one . He couldn’t wait to make her cum again.
Once she came down from her orgasm, she placed her lips back on his, tightening her legs around him once more. He shifted their position a bit and begin again when suddenly the front door opened and in walked Sam.
“Oh shit!” Bucky pulled out of her and struggled to pull up his pants and turned to shield her half naked frame.
“Sam!” Y/n squealed pulling her dress up to her chest as best she could.
“What in the entire fuck!” Sam screamed while covering his eyes.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” Y/n yelled.
“You told me toy were off!”
“I’m am off!”
“Well I thought I’d bring you dinner! I didn’t know id find this!” Sam said exasperatedly.
Y/n and Bucky were decent informing Sam he no longer had to cover his eyes. Immediately he pointed an accusatory finger at Bucky.
“You! What the fuck did I tell you about my sister?”
Bucky stared at him confused.
“You said not to flirt with your sister.” He repeated Sam’s words. “Sarah’s not..”
He then turned toward Y/n, things finally clicking.
“You’re Sam’s sister.” Bucky concluded.
“Baby sister.” Sam. added.
“I’m grown as hell Samuel!” Y/n fussed.
“Really bruh, my baby sister?!”
“Well how i suppose to know you only refer to her as baby!”
“Once again! I’m grown as fuck-“ she stopped hearing the front door creek open again.
“Who’s that?!” The woman’s eyes were wide with horror as she whispered.
“The boys!” Sam exclaimed in a whisper.
“Why didn’t you say they were here-“ she began frantically washing her hands.
“I’m sorry I was a little fuckin preoccupied with the fact my sister is fucking an assassin-
“Former assassin!” Bucky corrected.
“Hey TT!” Sarah’s boys greeted simultaneously with smiles as they bent the corner.
“Hey my babies!” Y/n instantly put a smile on her face pulling them each into her arms.
“Hey Bucky!” Cass waved
“Hey Bucky!” AJ addressed the solider as well before turning back toward his brother, “Cass , come on.”
“Wait let me put the pizza on the counter-“
“No!” The three adults exclaimed together.
“No boo, I’ll take it.” Y/n smiled again at her nephew taking the pizza.
“why don’t yall go in the living room and get the game set up?” Sam suggested.
“Yes! Let’s take the pizza in there while they bleach the kitchen?” Y/n hinted at the men while telling the kids to follow her.
“Oh yeah! TT, Uncle Sam got us two new video games!”,AJ informed her. “He also said we can watch a scary movie tonight since moms not here.
“Yeah! Andddd, he said we can door dash ice cream!” Cass added as the two kids followed their aunt into the living room.
Though he was silent, throughout the entire interaction but he couldn’t help but want you living room interact with the two kids. Back in the day, if you would’ve asked him if he believed in love at first site he would’ve said no. But he was pretty sure he was in love with Y/n already.
Once out of sight, Bucky took that opportunity to speak after a beat.
“Have I ever told you I’m glad you treat your nephew’s so well, Sam?” He asked after clearing his throat.
Sam sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah? Why’s that?” Bucky turned to him with a huge grin on his face.
“Cuz I’m gonna give you another one.”
Slowly Sam began to laugh, albeit one full of sarcasm, Bucky joined in sincerely. They laughed together for a moment before Sam ceased, his face expressionless.
“Bucky?”
“Yeah Sam?”
“I’m going to kill you.”
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kouomi · 3 years
Text
Family Secrets
Summary: How long would you be able to keep your relationship with your brothers’ best friend a secret? (F!reader x Suna Rintarō)
Warnings: slight jealously (basically none!)
Word Count: 3,813
A/N: the beginning of this is a little rocky sorry about that(it’s explaining a lil background I didn’t know where to put it)! This is also my first fic for Haikyuu and on this account so sorry if anything is off!
Posted: March 3rd, 2021 6:26 am EST
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Having two older brothers isn’t easy for any girl. Especially if those older brothers are twins and especially if you were all in the same year at school.
Everyone at your school knew you as the Miya twins little sister and while you hated the title it was one that you’d had since you were born so overtime you grew used to it. You constantly lived in their shadow, especially when they started playing volleyball so in an attempt to gain your own title you started playing as well. You’re a setter for the girls team at Inarizaki, set to take the position of captain next year once your current third year captain is out of high school.
Your practice had just ended and after taking a quick shower in the locker room you headed to the other gym where the boys team was still practicing, silently slipping in the door and sitting on the bench.
“Little Miya is here!” Akagi exclaims, a few heads turning to face you. You give a small wave without looking up from your phone, rolling your eyes at the familiar sound of your brothers starting a fight.
“Why are you here?” Osamu asks on one of their water breaks, staring down at you from where he stood.
“Mom won’t let me walk home alone after practice and Yaku wasn’t here today.” You explain with a sigh, “So I have to wait for you two.”
“I forgot we’re going home today.” Atsumu groans, “She’s gonna kill me.”
“Why?”
“He failed the maths test.”
You can’t help the laugh that bubbles past your lips, Atsumu glaring at you and your other brother as you laugh at his expense. He starts going on about how it wasn’t his fault but you don’t pay much attention, instead your gaze meeting another a few meters behind him. Almost as soon as you lock eyes they look away and you do the same, resisting the blush that tries to rise up your face.
After another thirty minutes of their practice they’re finally let go, everyone else on the team heading towards the dorms while you, Atsumu, and Osamu make your way towards the front gate.
“There’s at least two girls on my team that have a crush on you guys.” You add to their conversation after listening in on them talking about their fan girls for the past ten minutes.
“Eh? Why would someone like ‘Samu?” Atsumu asks.
“You literally have the same face.” You blink, watching as he goes to argue but can’t seem to find any words that work in his favor.
While the twins on either side of you kept talking you pulled out your phone, a small smile crossing your face as your fingers danced across the screen to reply to a text. You’d turned down your brightness and tilted your phone closer to your face so your brothers wouldn’t be able to read anything but they still eyed you suspiciously, silently sharing their questions with each other over your head.
“Y/n? What’re ya doin?” Atsumu asks, making you turn off your phone and shove it in your pocket.
“Texting my team.” You answer coolly, “Some of us actually have to put work in outside of practice.”
“Oi it’s not my fault yer a vice captain and we’re not!”
“What about organizing makes you smile like that?” Osamu asks. You cringe at his words; of course he’d be the one to pick up on that.
“When did this turn into twenty questions?” You ask, voice slight squeaking as you spoke.
“Does our baby sister have a boyfriend?” Atsumu grins, resting his arm on your shoulder.
“No, and don’t call me that! You’re not even a year older than me!” You exclaim, shoving his arm off and picking up your pace so you walked ahead of them instead of between.
“Hey, get back here!”
After dinner with your family you sat in your room, repeatedly setting a volleyball into the air above you and occasionally groaning as you hear your brothers through the thin walls of your home. While you were practicing your mind wandered to how close you’d come to being found out by the duo all because of a stupid smile. You’d managed to hide your relationship for nearly five months now but it was getting harder and harder, especially considering your boyfriend was one of your brothers close friends and teammate. You’d wanted to tell them before but it would just cause unnecessary awkwardness and maybe even distrust among the four of you so you decided to keep it secret. It did make things more interesting sometimes but also immensely difficult to find places you could go on dates without risk of being caught, as things as simple as texting nearly exposed your relationship.
Your train of thought is interrupted by a knock on your window, the volleyball above you coming crashing down on to your face when you turn to look at the source of the noise. Rubbing your nose you stood up and crossed the room, gasping lightly when you see the main topic of your thoughts standing on the branch of the tree outside your window.
“Rin?!” You whisper yell after pushing open the glass, sticking your head outside.
He flashes you a small smile as you reach out to help him inside, leaving the window open behind him in case he needed to use it as a quick escape route.
“What’re you doing here?”
“Thought I’d stop by.” He responds, reaching out and pulling you towards him with one of your hands before his arms snake around your waist, “We haven’t hung out in a while.”
“Ya could’ve just waited til tomorrow.” You say though find yourself melting into him, “‘Tsumu and ‘Samu are literally on the other side of that wall.”
“Well I was on my way to the store and thought I’d stop by.”
You shake your head with a sigh as your arms move around his back, one of your hands between his shoulder blades and the other on the back of his neck. He leans down, face hovering in front of yours for a moment before you close the space between you and press your lips to his.
“You really can’t stay.” You mumble, pulling apart momentarily to talk.
“Just for a little bit.” He says, pecking your lips again before lowering his head to the crook of your neck.
“Rin.” You warn though your words lose any authority when he presses a delicate kiss to your jaw making you subconsciously lean closer into his grasp with a slight intake of breath.
“Okay, maybe just a bit.”
You feel him smile before he peppers your neck in kisses, one of his hands moving up to lightly hold the side as his thumb gently pushes up your chin. You turn and press a kiss to his temple before you angle your head up and to the side, giving him more access as you both take a few unstable steps back until the back of your legs hit your bed. Slowly you fall back on to the mattress, Suna following and hovering over you with one of his hands hooked under your lower back.
“Hey Y/n?” He asks quietly, thin eyes baring into your own.
You hum, eyes flickering away for a moment to brush some of his hair out of his face.
“Can we take a nap?”
Your face falls at his question before a small laugh bubbles past your lips, “We can’t, my brothers might walk in.”
The middle blocker gives a disappointed groan before he lays down on top of you, his head resting on your chest as his arms encircle your waist.
“Just five minutes.” He mumbles.
Before you could respond you heard a loud crash from the wall next to you followed by shouting and a yell of your name. The color drained from your face as footsteps approached your room, Suna quickly jumping up and scanning the room for some where to hide. You jester towards the window and he narrows his eyes before climbing out, nearly slipping as he steps on the branches of the tree.
“Y/n!” Atsumu yells as he throws open your door, “Help!”
“What do you-“ Before you could finish your sentence the boy in front of you is tackled to the ground by a flash of grey hair, the two rolling around on the ground of your room.
“Give it back ya asshole!”
“I can’t! I already ate it!”
“What?!”
You watch with wide eyes as they fight, neither paying much attention to you as they carry whatever they’d started on in your room. Even being their sister you had a hard time distinguishing between them with how fast they were moving around, flashes of grey and blonde the only indicator of who was who.
“Stop! You’re gonna knock me over-!” Your words are cut off by the heavy sound of you being sent to the floor, yelling as you’re unwillingly dragged into their fight.
“What is wrong with you two?!”
“He ate my Onigiri!” Osamu exclaims, narrowly missing a punch to the gut, “I spent two hours making that!”
“It’s not my fault ya left it out!” His twin yells back, using his knee to keep down one of his opponent’s legs.
“You’re fighting over food?” You ask exasperatedly, hissing when your hair is violently yanked to the side. As you tried to pull yourself free from their tangle of limbs a swift fist swings into your eye, a yelp of pain leaving you as you reach up to cradle your face.
“Look what ya did now!” Osamu says, reluctantly pulling away from your brother and kneeling in front of you.
“Yer both stupid ya know that?” You hiss, cowering away when a hand reaches out towards you.
“Shit- Y/n I’m sorry, are you okay?” Atsumu asks, any previous fight now long forgotten as they both crouch in front of you with concerned looks.
“Is it bad?” You question, lowering your hand and cringing when you notice their eyes widen.
“Ya think you could pull off purple eyeshadow?”
You groan before taking his hand and letting him pull you up, walking towards the small mirror on your desk and withering at the sight. The area around your right eye was already red and starting to turn purple and swell, reminding all three of you of the strength the brothers had that they often forgot about.
“‘Tsumu, stop eating everything you see, ‘Samu it’s kind of your fault for leaving it out.” You sigh, watching them both deflate and go to argue with you before looking back at your eye, “Now get out.”
“Are you sure? I can getchya an ice pack or somethin?” Atsumu asks but you shake your head.
“Just go, I’ll be fine.”
They reluctantly walk out of your room, flashing you an apologetic look as you trail behind them and close the door with a heavy sigh.
After inspecting your eye a little while longer you pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts for a moment before finding Sunas.
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You roll your eyes but still do so, cringing at the sight of the ugly purple that’d started to develop before you hit send.
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-
The next day you after you’d gone back to campus you’d gotten a lot of questions about your eye, especially once you went to your morning classes. You’d started to grow annoyed with the persistent, never ending same question over and over and by the time your free period rolled around you were ready to spend the rest of your day in your dorm. On your way to the front of the building you stopped at your locker, unable to resist the smile that pulled at the corners of your lips when you saw your favorite food sitting in a bag next to your books, a small note attached to the top.
Hope you can see this with one eye
-Rintarō
You tuck the note in your pocket before pulling the food out of your locker, making your way towards where you and your friends always met up for lunch. They seemed surprised about your black eye and thankfully didn’t bring up the topic after you explained the story behind the ugly mark.
“You know, some of the boys on the boys volleyball team are pretty cute.” You hear one of the girls say, effectively gaining your attention.
“Especially the second years.” The girl next to you say, “No wonder the twins have so many fan girls.”
“You guys are gonna make me throw up.” You groan, wrinkling your nose at the thought of seeing your brothers in that light.
“Hey, you can’t deny that they’re cute!” She giggles, shoulder bumping into yours as she does so, “Maybe you could set me up with one of them.”
“In your dreams.” You scoff and she frowns.
“What about Suna?” Your other teammates speaks up. You have to resist the urge to shut down the conversation, not wanting to hear other girls talk about how attractive they found your boyfriend.
“Hm, now that you mention it he is pretty handsome.” Another girl weighs in, “His eyes are kind of hypnotizing.”
“What do you think Y/n?”
“I guess he’s cute.” You shrug, trying to seem nonchalant as you refused to make eye contact.
“We should go to the boy’s practice after ours.” Your friend suggests, “We can just watch for pointers.”
“Kori is trying to pick up a new boyfriend!”
As the rest of your team continues laughing and talking about the boys team you find yourself pulled into your own thoughts, worries and insecurities already working their way into the confidence you had in your relationship. What if one of the other girls made a move on Suna? Would he play along with it just to keep the guise of being single? How far would he let her go? Would he realize that he wants to be with someone other than you? Perhaps someone prettier?
By the time you were brought back to reality everyone else was already packing up their things, forcing you to shove the thoughts in the back of your mind though they whispered to you through out the rest of your classes.
-
“Alright you girls can pack up, we’re done for the day!” Your coach announces. You walk with the rest of your team towards the locker rooms with a towel wrapped loosely around your neck, your breathing heavy from the effort from practice. You were excited for it to finally be over and be able to spend the rest of the night with your boyfriend, though your plans are quickly thrown off when someone calls your name from the other side of the gym.
“Y/n, I need you to stay behind with the third years.” Your coach says making you inwardly groan though you still nod and jog towards the small group.
“You know where we’ll be Y/n!” Your friends call out, waving as they close the door to the gym behind them.
The extra practice goes by painstakingly slow, another half hour passing before you were allowed to shower and leave. You practically ran to the other gym, internally panicking at the thought of what you might walk into when you pushed open the doors.
Finally you made it, wasting no time in stepping into the familiar room and quickly scanning the people littered through out. You notice a few groups split off talking to each other, rolling your eyes as you see Atsumu flirting with the girls around him while Osamu stood next to him with an unamused expression. Moving on from them you looked on the other side of the gym, finding your boyfriend standing on the corner of the court.
Relief floods you as you begin to approach him though it’s short lived when you see the girl standing a little too close for comfort. Suna had his signature neutral expression as he spoke to her, not even flinching when she lays a hand on his bicep and steps closer, looking up at him with a coy grin. A sick feeling makes it’s home in your stomach as you watch them and how unbothered he seemed by it all, even giving her one of his rare smiles. You find it harder to believe it’s all an act, that his actions weren’t genuine and he wasn’t actually entertaining her advances. Maybe he was thinking about other options; he had to be tired of how secretive and sneaky he had to be with you and was looking for someone else, someone he could be public with. Maybe you were losing him.
The final straw for you is when you see her hand trail up to hold his face, the action chilling you to the bone and sending you across the room. You’re quickly within range of the two as you approached from behind the girl, Sunas eyes meeting yours and lighting up slightly.
“Oh hey Y/n, I didn’t know if you were going to make it.” Your teammate smiles, her hand still resting on Sunas arm as she turned around to talk to you.
“Yeah. So, what’s going on?” You respond, getting straight to the point as you shift your weight uncomfortably.
“Just having a little chat with Suna here.” She responds, turning towards the man in question so she was practically shoved against him now. You not so subtly cringed at the action which he took notice to, finally taking the opportunity to throw the girl off.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” Suna says, peeling himself away from your teammate and stepping closer to you, “Ready to go?”
He tightly loops an arm around your waist, his thumb running up and down on your uniform clad hip. You’re caught off guard by his sudden public display but quickly cover it with a smile, feeling relief flow through you as he distances himself from the girl.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting.” You say as your arm goes behind his back, “Coach had me do extra practice with the third years.”
“It’s fine, Kori was here to keep me company.” He responds, both of your gazes flickering to the girl who stood almost dumbfounded next to you.
“Wait are you two...?” She asks, neither of you quite answering though the answer was heavily implied, “Miya? With someone like you as a boyfriend? Either you’re lying or-“
You notice Suna roll his eyes before he pulls you flush against himself, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours in one swift motion. You melt into him as your hand reaches up to cup his face, pulling away with an ethereal smile.
“Or you’re really good at lying.” Kori finishes, blinking at you both as if she’s trying to catch up to the sequence of events. After a few moments of the three of you intensely staring at each other she gives a smile and walks off to your other teammates by the door, a rapid conversation bursting out amongst them complete with constant glances and gasps.
“Y/n?!”
You cringe at the sudden, all too familiar yell of your brothers as they quickly push through the girls around them and rush over to where you stood. Suna tenses slightly and turns towards them, his arm loosening so you could stand beside him though it still stays comfortably wrapped around your body.
“What was that?!” Atsumu exclaims, eyes dancing back and forth between you and his friend, “The two of you just...”
“Are you... dating?” Osamu asks, narrowing his eyes slightly as he spoke.
“Yeah.” Suna answers, watching as their expressions fall and they look at each other before back at you.
“How long?” The blonde questions.
“Five months.” You respond this time.
“What?!”
“Well it was great talking to you but we better get going.” You say, gently pushing Suna towards the door in an attempt to escape your brothers.
“Hold on a minute,” Osamu says, as they work their way between you and your boyfriend, “Suna, do ya really think ya can get off that easy datin our precious little sister?”
“Didn’t you give her a black eye?”
“That’s besides the point! Ya know if ya do anythin to hurt her I’m gonna-“
“Why would I hurt her?” Suna interrupts, the three Miyas turning to face him, “She’s my girlfriend, I care about her.”
It’s silent for a moment as your brothers stare in surprise, their minds finally catching up as they search for something else to say.
“Tsumu if you keep this up I’m gonna tell em about your little crush.” You say before they can start again, watching as his face loses color and his expression falls, “And ‘Samu I’ll take all of your cookbooks.”
“... Yer safe for now Suna.” Atsumu says quietly, giving his friend a soft glare.
You take this as an opportunity to escape the twins, wasting no time in quickly making your way across the gym and out the double doors. A breath you didn’t realize you were holding finally leaves your lungs, Suna looking down at you and noticing how exhausted physically and mentally you seemed. Silently he laces your fingers together and gives your hand a gentle squeeze in an effort to help you relax even if it were only slightly.
“We don’t have to hide anymore.” You say quietly though it’s loud in both of your ears, the sentence one you’ve been wanting to say for a long time. Suna responds by pulling your hand up to his face and pressing a kiss to your knuckles before letting your interlaced hands dangle between you. It was a luxury you hadn’t yet been able to experience, holding his hand out in public. Something about the simple action made your heart flutter, your eyes flickering towards Suna momentarily before back towards the path. It was as if you were confirming your relationship, announcing to the world and more importantly your brothers that Suna was your boyfriend.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Suna asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Just admiring.” You answer, smiling as he gives you a weird look before squeezing your hand.
“I think I’m gonna like this.” He mumbles, abruptly pulling you into himself by your hand.
You stumble for a moment before relaxing against him, your arms finding their place wrapped loosely around his neck while his hold you firmly in place by your waist. Your hand cups his cheek as you lean closer, stopped centimeters away close enough for his breath to dance on your face and lips to barely graze your own.
“Me too.”
339 notes · View notes
strayinvelvet · 3 years
Text
[what a fool in love]
Jisung thinks you couldn’t get any cuter when you have your cheeks all pink because of your tiny crush on him
pairing: han jisung x reader
genre: fluff, high school au, jisung is babo but cute
wc: 1.5k (this was supposed to be around 500 only but  got carried away)
warning: swear words, improper capitalization because i wrote this in tumblr drafts but just hit up my ask if this annoys you!
a/n: finally posting something after bouncing so many times! hopefully i can post consistently :(
Jisung thinks you couldn’t get any cuter when you have your cheeks flushed, especially when it’s because of him.
he has been observing you for months now and he notices. he notices how you would always stutter when you talk to him. you never do that when you talk to hyunjin or seungmin. he notices how your cheeks would turn a bright shade of pink when he calls you first. sometimes it would even reach your nose.
it’s not like he has been watching you. there was just this one time when he felt like eyes are on him. the bugging feeling was present for most of the day 'til he looked around and there you were, staring right at him. now jisung isn’t really one to boast, but he knows he’s one of the “handsome princes” of the school. he is not oblivious to the number of girls and boys that have a puppy to huge crush on him, thanks to the letters and free lunches he receives every once in a while. 
so from then on, he knows. you’ve been showing signs of your secret crush towards him and he finds it absolutely adorable. the silent yet friendly fella of the class who never finds a struggle in having a conversation with someone despite being a stranger to her, except with him. he wouldn’t say he doesn’t enjoy watching it. 
During lunch last time, when your friends abandoned you to go do their unfinished homework, you asked him, with the most shy and the most adorable look, if you can sit with him in his table. of course, the gentleman that he is, he let you sit. how could he let you possibly spend the whole lunch time looking for a seat? he swear he was only doing you a favor. well, he wouldn’t deny finding you stealing a few short glances at him amusing.
there was also this time when your biology teacher assigned the two of you to be “homework buddies.” it must have taken you a lot of courage to start the conversation. he would’ve pinched your cheeks that time if it weren’t for his self control: hey han jisung, she still hasn’t confessed to you. don’t make her uncomfortable. ah! and what was that you asked him? if he understand how the heart works? and then you went to full on nerd mode in explaining to him how it pumps blood and all the science-y stuff. how its beats depend on different factors, including external ones such as thoughts and feelings towards others. he’s pretty sure you were trying to convey something to him. dropping hints, i see. ahh, if only he could physically coo at you. 
now the reason why he enjoys your actions the most is your subtleness. he can tell that you have no plans to tell him how you feel, save for your natural reaction when you see him, unlike the others who basically throw themselves at him. he can see your efforts to not make the two of you uncomfortable. and all it told him was how considerate you are. you’ve probably noticed how the confessions annoy him sometimes, especially when it was given to him at a bad timing. like the person just wanted to let it out with no regards if he’s in the mood to hear it or not. but you, you have always checked on him silently before doing something. not until today.
your classmates have gone to their respective homes. he just finished practicing with the dance club and was just on his way to the school gates when you called his name hastily. you stopped speed-walking in front of him and took a deep breath as if you just ran out of air. you were holding a folded piece of paper in your hand- wait. piece of paper? is that a letter? a love letter?! oh no...
“hey jisung. i have something to say. actually it’s-”
“no! wait!” he hastily said to stop you.
 startled, you looked at him with a puzzled look, “hm..?”
no, you weren’t supposed to confess today. where did you get the sudden courage? is it from hyunjin? that man always encourage people to confess just to piss him off. tsk, that dick.
he looked at you with hesitation. are you nervous? he really didn’t want to leave you heart broken, tho.
he sighed, “how do i say this...” he gulped an imaginary lump in his throat before continuing, “ yn, you’re cute, i admit. but you see i’m not ready for a relationship yet. you’ve seen me turn down other confessions, i think, but i don’t want to do that to you because, well, you’re simply kind and... pure?” shit how do i really say this?
while he’s thinking of nice synonyms he can say instead as a replacement for what he’s about to say, you on the other hand, were left dumbfounded.
what is this guy on...?
when he finally seemed to quiet down, you didn’t even try to comprehend what he said (there’s no need to try honestly it’s impossible) before finally saying what you really needed to say. 
“jisung...” you paused for a while blinking at him, “i- i was gonna say ms. kim wants you in her office tomorrow during self-study hour. it’s about your biology grades,” you gave him the paper you were holding - his biology test marked with a big red, “you failed your preliminary quiz again and she’s afraid you’re going to fail the final quiz. she wanted me to say it because we’ve been partners for this subject.”
and then the most awkward silence ensued. not until he spoke with the most “huh?” tone.
“what?”
“Ms. Kim-”
“no wait i heard that. just... what?”
at this point you didn’t know what to say. your eyes travel from one point to another except to his eyes just because he’s clearly unfathomable right now.
“you weren’t-” he stopped to swallow the lump in his throat that now actually exists, “you weren’t going to confess?” he asked (with a bit of a hope that you actually were on the way to do so just to save him from humiliation).
however, he’s hopeless from his mess.
with a furrowed brows you finally answered, “no...? where’d you get that?”
well shit.
“i mean- don’t you like... have a crush on me?”
“where is this coming from?” you kind of dragged the where part because part of you hoped to understand where he’s coming from.
“you were all blushy with me!!” he is currently on his mission to prove that you liked him.
“when?!”
“last week! it even reached your nose and you were so cu-”
“han jisung! it’s winter! i had colds last week!”
“what about that time in the cafeteria when you were all shy?! and that time when you were explaining to me, OUT OF THE BLUE, about how liking someone makes your heart beat and stuff? or when i would catch your eyes on me?!”
“when were those even?! and you totally took that biology thing out of context!” you crossed your arms in front of your chest. you are so into this argument now.
the both of you went through this banter with your voices going higher the further the banter gets for as long as your memory (or jisung’s. he’s racking up his brain to save himself) could allow. however, as the banter got stretched, the more he realized that he really did misunderstand you and your adorable actions. by a lot. so when it finally donned him that he has such a thick face for thinking like that, plus assuming that you would confess, he finally kept quiet and let himself absorb the stupidity he has done.
for you, however, you find this whole strange exchange hilarious. normally, if it was other guys, you’d have slapped him across the street for assuming things. but it is han jisung. he never rubbed it on anyone’s faces that he has a lot of admirers. he never gets cocky about his popularity. he gets shy over small praises (he loves praises). he also managed to teach the whole class one lesson in calculus minutes before an exam just because his friends asked him to teach them a crash course, until the whole class joined their little tutorial.
“soo...” you tried to start.
“wait don’t talk anymore this is kinda embarrassing for me,” he closed his eyes shut as if he's trying to convince himself to wake up from this embarrassing nightmare.
you giggled, well isn't he adorably clumsy? he's weird but you'd just take it as another opportunity to gain a close friend. “do you still need help in biology? i kinda need help in calculus...”
“alright, let’s head down the diner” he answered immediately before walking straight forward without looking at you.
"jisung!” he stopped on his tracks but without looking at you. “it’s this way!" you pointed at the opposite direction of where he was going. he turned towards you and fast-walked in that direction until you told him to wait for you in which he slowed down his steps by tenfold until you were right beside him. still not letting your eyes meet. he’s that embarrassed.
little did you both know a close friend is not only thing you'd gain from this.
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emeralddaydream · 3 years
Text
𝙱𝚊𝚋𝚢, 𝙸'𝚖 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜
Kit x Fem!Reader
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Rating: General
Word Count: 940
Warnings: anxiety mention (nothing detailed)
requested by @thatspookyagent: Maybe some Kit Walker fluff with a pregnant reader, where he's consoling them because their anxious about the baby and he gives the baby bump and reader some good night kisses? :3
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You cherish nights like these; just you and Kit lying together, limbs tangling in the peace and quiet of your bedroom. You’re occupied with some light reading, head reclined against the downy pillows while Kit’s rests on your shoulder; he places soft kisses along your neck every once in a while, making you squirm, much to his amusement.
“Y’know,” he begins, moving a hand down to your swollen belly; a smile grows on your face as he gently runs it back and forth, and you melt into his touch with a tiny sigh. “I was thinkin’, since I’m free tomorrow, we could stop over at that department store, the one by the post office? Maybe pick up a crib?” You turn to face him, nodding thoughtfully.
“Yeah, I guess it’s time we figure all that out, huh?”
“The little one’s gonna be here before we know it. He moves in to place a sweet kiss to your lips.
As if on cue, you there’s a faint fluttering against your stomach. You giggle and Kit grins, having felt it, too.
“Seems like they know who we’re talkin’ about,” he muses, pulling back with a toothy grin. “God, I can’t wait ‘til they’re here.”
“Neither can I,” you agree, and it’s the truth… Though you can’t deny the wave of doubt that briefly washes over you. Not doubt that you won’t love your baby. You already love them with your whole heart. But thoughts that you won’t be a good parent, ones that have been plaguing you on and off, are at the forefront of your mind once again. “Kit...” you whisper, half hoping he doesn’t hear you.
But he does, of course. “Hey... What’s the matter?”
“N-nothing, really… I just…” Rubbing a hand along the back of your neck, you exhale deeply. “I guess it’s just starting to hit me. Kit, this kid’s gonna be here in three months. Three months. I dunno, it feels so soon, I’m just not sure I’m ready.” Your husband’s face begins to blur as tears well in your eyes. You let out a shaky breath, reaching a hand up to wipe them away with a short laugh. “Sorry,” you whisper, shaking your head. “I just… I don’t wanna screw this up, Kit. I wanna be a good mom.”
“Honey…” He pulls you as close to him as your belly will allow, one of his hands still running over it slowly while the other reaches out to cup your face. “You’re already the most amazing mother I’ve ever seen. You do so much for our baby. You’ve given ‘em a home, and I know you love ‘em more than anything in the world.” You can’t stop a small smile from spreading across your face at his words, and you nod; it’s the truth. “I love you so much, I’m gonna do everything I can to take care of you both, okay? And I know you’ll do the same.” When you look into your husband’s brown eyes then, you can’t help but wonder if your baby will have have them as well... And despite the nervousness that still lingers within you, you can’t wait to find out. You wrap your arms around Kit’s neck, pulling him into a tight embrace, silently thanking the universe for bringing the two of you together.
A small yawn escapes you then, and Kit chuckles as your eyes begin to droop. “You ready for bed?”
“Seems that way,” you reply with a laugh, marking your spot in the book in your lap, before setting it on the nightstand. You lie back against the sheets, adjusting slightly to face Kit again, who has warm smile on his face. “You’re gonna be a great dad,” you murmur, and his smile widens further.
“I’m gonna do my best. It’s what you both deserve…” Suddenly, he’s crawling down your body until he’s face to face with your bump and you laugh contentedly when he cradles it in his hands gently. “Hey there, squirt,” he whispers, and you immediately feel tears welling in your eyes again, though this time, for a completely different reason. “I just want you to know how much your mom and I love you. You’ll have the most amazing life, I promise.” He places a kiss just about your belly button, laughing delightedly when the baby begins kicking again. “Yeah, I know! We’re gonna make sure you’re taken care of, okay? That’s one thing you’ll never have to worry about. I love you so much, honey.” The baby begins kicking a bit harder, and the tears are falling freely from your eyes now as you beam down at Kit, who places several small kisses all across your trembling stomach. “Now, try to let your mom get some sleep, huh? We’ll see you in the morning.” He pats your belly gently before making his way to lay beside you once more, both of you shifting so that you’re able to rest your head on his chest, your favorite way to fall asleep, especially since you’ve been pregnant.
“Get some rest,” he whispers. “I love you, sweetheart.” Hips soft lips meet yours again and your adoration for him in this moment is unlike anything you’ve ever known.
“I love you,” you breath, not only to Kit, but to the beautiful little human growing inside you; the one who, despite all of your fears, you’re excited to meet. You know it’s going to be a long road ahead, but knowing how much you love this baby, knowing that you’ll have Kit by your side…
You end up with the best night’s sleep you’ve had in weeks.
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taglist: @therenlover, @ladyfogg, @kitwalker02, @liandav, @kitwalkerangel, @elaineygrace, @milly-louise, @thecountessesglove @americxn, @tatestripedsweater, @mossybank (please feel free to fill this out to be added/removed here!!)
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heelbucks · 3 years
Note
You said send in birthday sex headcannons so HERE WE ARE. I’ve never done this before so cut me some slack. Birthday sex with Drew McIntyre?
welcome to the circus !! also i got carried away this is more like a drabble 👀👀 not that i think y’all would complain
okay so, if it’s the night of a ppv (like moi) drew would feel god awful that he couldn’t take you out like he originally planned too. “my love, i’m so sorry. i’ll make it up to you tonight. i promise.” he’d say hugging you while backstage. he’d work his hardest to put on a good show, not only for the fans, but for his girl as well. when he comes out, you two have a lil secret gesture and he does it during his entrance.
post match, you’re the first person he wants to see, and he just picks you up and kisses you like no one else is there. “i’m so proud of you baby.” you smile up at him. he does his post match interviews and promos and then he’s dragging you back to your hotel.
“you’re too good to me dove. let me show you how much you mean to me. happy birthday sweet girl.”
he gently walks over to the bed and lays you down, kissing all over your body. “my perfect girl. god, i love you.” he removes your shirt, his merch of course, and keeps moving so slow it hurts.
“drewwww.... please...” you’d whine out, tired of his teasing. he smirks as he kisses the apex of your thighs, moving to pull your leggings down, but then deciding to rip them. “anything for you, birthday girl.”
he pulls your panties to the side, and drags a finger up and down your slit. “always so ready for me huh dove?” drew smirks and plunges his finger into you. despite how many times you two have had sex, he’s always so big, the stretch burning in the best possible way.
he spends about a half hour just eating you out and teasing you. he loves being between your thighs, nipping, biting, licking and sucking to make you tremble and grab his hair. he knows he’s getting you close when you start bucking your hips into his face, his beard leaving a delicious burn on your thighs.
“such a sweet cunt, love. can’t wait ‘til it’s wrapped round my cock, turn around, face down ass up. daddy’s gonna make sure ya can’t walk tomorrow.”
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spookysmujer · 4 years
Text
Simple Things, O. Diaz
Summary: Oscar get jealous upon seeing you enjoying a conversation with another guy.
warnings: angst, Jealous!Oscar, cute s h e t /ending😋
word count: 1.2K
requested by: @roury66​
A/N: Thank you for sending in a request! And also showing me love by getting random messages that y’all enjoy my content really does make me feel so good. So keep them coming, hehe. As of right now, REQUESTS ARE CLOSED! Became so fluffy, I can’t e v e n, LOL. But please consider following my blog, heart/comment/reblog my content as well as turning on notifs for what I post something new!!
taglist: @clemmingstylins0n​ @princesstiffxoxo​ @fairygardenss​ @firebenderwolf​ @spookysnena​ @mbaku-babygirl​ @chellybear98​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @i-just-wanna-live-gc​ @roury66​ (please let me know if you wanna be added or removed!)
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(Gif belongs to @merakiaes 💐)
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“Hey, have you seen Spooky?”
Sad Eyes briefly looks at you then around the bustling backyard of a summer bash. He shrugs his shoulder, “He was here, think he dipped because he saw you warming up the pendejo.”
You close your eyes for a brief moment to scratch the back of your head. He only chuckles and steps away from you. Tonight was suppose to be a fun and chill. The Santos love to hit up summer parties around the block, usually to hit up the now legal hynas fresh outta high school. Not for Oscar though because he has you. 
The relationship between you and Oscar has been complicated from the get go. It didn’t start off simple and definitely had you questioning your ability to hold a decent relationship especially in moments like these. Oscar’s insecurities getting the best of him. Not to mention, he is horrible at opening up about his feelings.
You’re checking your phone for any messages and missed calls from him but nothing. As you squeeze your way past the alcohol infested teens to the front yard, you stand to check for his cherry red impala. And just as it was when you rolled up, parked against the curb a few houses down with a smoking Oscar leaning against it.
“Hey, you.” He looks up from his phone and tucks it away as you approach him. His gaze averts from you as you are now besides him, leaning into his side, “Why’d you dip?”
Oscar clears his throat and sits up off of his car, “Thought you had all the company you needed, looks like you did with Bryan or whatever his fuckin’ name is.”
You huff and cross your arms over your chest, moving off him and in front of him. He looks down at you then takes a drag of his cigarette. You form a face of disgust, “When you gonna stop smoking those cancer sticks, hm?”
An amused expression forms on his face as he places it between his lips to take another drag, “When you stop hanging with other guys. I’ll probably be waiting forever with that one.”
“Really? You’re gonna act like this? The one night we can hang out with no shit to handle tomorrow but you want to be a dick instead.” You face and voice carry much frustration. You huff and begin to walk away when not even a second later, “Don’t walk away from me.”
Your hold your middle finger in the air with your back to him.
Suddenly, his hand is gripping your upper arm and pulling you back. You stumble and pull your arm away as he looks down at you with that signature Spooky look.
“I’ll walk away if I please. I don’t know why you get so jealous. All I was doing was talking to guy about school and stuff. Is that so bad or are you the only specimen of the opposite sex that I can have contact with?”
He cracks a smile, looking away for a brief moment then back to you, “You don’t think it looked like something to everyone else around you? Laughing and doing the cute punch shit. If it looks like something to me, it looks like something to others.”
“And you started caring about other’s opinion when? Tonight? I’m sorry people have wronged you in the past, Oscar. I really am, I despise them for doing it to you but I am not one of them. I wouldn’t do that to you. If I was interested in someone else, I’d have the decency to tell you that. It’s not what I was doing that’s the problem here. It’s you and the way you think.”
Oscar looks down and you see his adam’s apple bob.He’s probably feeling guilty right about now, “Can’t help I much I feel for you, seeing you like that pisses me off.”
“You can control the way you think of me though. You really believe I would be that kind of girl with you? Hm? We’ve been through hell together. We’ve got through a lot of your issues together, it took you nearly a year to label me as your novia. I stuck around even then when you’d push me away and treat me like a random hyna. But I did it because I love you.” You sigh as you let out the frustrations.
You rub circles into your forehead and blink away an tears that threaten to spill over. Whenever you get upset, your emotions try to overrun, He looks around for a brief moment and scratches the back of his head, a small smile creeping onto his lips. You see the smug look on his face and cross your arms over your chest, “I’m serious!”
He finally lets off a laugh and licks his lips to peer down at you, his hands in pockets. Oscar tilts his head to the side and peers at you, truly fascinated that he got a girl who loves him with such passion and continues to stick around even when the going gets rough,
“I love you too, mamas. That’s why I act this way. Because in some fucked up way, the universe said that you could be mine. And I still disbelieve it to this day. You’re way out of my league. I just.. I know if a guy comes along and is that much better than me then I’m out.” He confesses, the smug look disappearing and his face now saturated with discomfort.
It’s your turn to form a smug look on your face. Oscar is a man of a few words but it’s not like he doesn’t get mushy sometimes. When he does though, it’s like you’re fire. You’re heart is set ablaze with intense feelings that you feel like you’ve never felt before. And in moments like this, his insecurities give you a soft spot for his irritating ass.
“Oscar, I can promise you. If a richer, more... toned man has woo’d me and given me everything I have ever dreamed. Promised me a home in LA or got me my dream car? I wouldn’t be happy. Because you’re the one for me. You are it. I want things with you. I want to build a life with you, a home and someday a family. Doesn’t have to be in the order, “You both laugh, nerves obvious as you inhale a deep breath.
“You’re it for me. I can’t tell you in words how much I want you and will want you til i’m wrinkling and ugly. I’ve wanted you then and I want you now.”
He takes a deep breath in and steps closer to you. You instinctively wrap your arms around his waist, tipping your head back to get a look up at him. He puckers his lips and you press yours against him, breathing him in.
When you break the kiss apart, he remove his hands from his pockets and steps back, you squeal as his lifts you off your feet and onto his shoulder “Osc- babe!”
“Gotta get started on that family, not in order remember?” He jogs down the sidewalk towards his house, abandoning his car all at once. Laughter erupting from the both of you.
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tobesolonely · 4 years
Text
braided
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a/n: hello everyone, this is my first ever piece of work im posting on here!! i’m a lil nervous to post it, but the idea came to me while i was taking a shower and i really wanted to write it so here it is <333 the concept is kinda personal to me as a Black woman but i really wanted to share my feelings and also make it a lil fluffy (kinda?? hopefully?) anyway please enjoy and leave feedback i would really appreciate it!
word count: ~1k
warnings: none! a lil fluffy <33
my ko-fi! thank you :)
“Still up for the farmer’s market tomorrow, darling? We should get there early before the crowds form.” Harry suggests, walking back into his bathroom to finish up his extensive, nightly skincare routine.
You look up from your phone, about to voice your confirmation when you suddenly remember what you have planned for tomorrow. You made an appointment with your hair braider nearly two weeks ago but she was so booked with summer starting that tomorrow was the soonest appointment you could get. “I can’t,” you sigh, locking your phone and setting it down next to you on Harry’s bed. “I’m getting my hair done tomorrow at eleven.”
Harry pokes his head out of his bathroom, face gleaming from the serum he just rubbed all over it. “S’no problem darling, farmer’s market doesn’t close ‘til one. We’ll make it.”
At this statement, you can’t help but to throw your head back and laugh. Harry’s certainty that your hair would be done within two hours, given your hairstylist was actually ready for you by 11, was laughable. Yours and Harry’s relationship was still fairly new and since he had never been in a relationship with a Black woman, he was still learning all about your hair-- what hair products work best, why you can’t just use his shampoo when you run out of the bottle you keep in his shower, why you don’t just wake up, run your fingers through your hair, and waltz out the door, why you don’t wash your hair every day, and so much more. However, he did not know how long it took for protective styles to be installed in your hair, and he certainly wouldn’t guess it’s an all-day affair.
“Heyyyyy,” he drawls, walking over to his bed and flopping next to you. “Yeh laughin’ at me? What’s so funny?” Harry has a genuine look of confusion on his face, poking you in your side.
You pull your body up from your lounging position and turn to face him, crossing your legs. “It’s just,” you start. “I think we’d do best to go to the farmer’s market next weekend. It’s just that my hair will take more than a couple hours, s’all.”
At this information, Harry's eyes widen. He looks at your hair, still obviously very confused. “More than a couple of hours? How? What are yeh gettin’ done to it?” The fact that your hair could take so long to do is just beyond him. He doesn’t understand at all and you giggle at his genuine curiosity.
“I’m getting box braids done. They’re a protective style, so that means you won’t have to wait 45 minutes for me to do my hair every time we go somewhere now!” He laughs at this, causing you to poke his dimple.
“I’ve seen those before! They look like they hurt. Do they hurt?” Harry is still extremely curious seeing as you haven’t explained anything to him. “Where are yeh goin’ to get them done? Can I come?”
You laugh again, amazed at how invested in your hair Harry is. “It kinda hurts a little if she installs them too tight but if she doesn’t, it’s fine,” you pause for a little bit, wondering if you should allow Harry to come with you. You didn’t want to just invite him to sit there tomorrow and take up space, especially because it might be a busy day. Also, your boyfriend, as you were slowly learning from the five months you’ve been together, could get extremely restless when he got bored. “I’m afraid you’ll be bored if you tag along.”
Harry shakes his head, getting up from the bed to turn off the overhead light. “None o’ that, lovie. You know I’m never bored when I’m with yeh. Would love to go and see what the process is like if ya don’t mind me being there.”
Your heart swells at the fact that Harry wants to put in the effort to understand more about your hair. As a Black woman, your hair was one part of you that you’ve struggled to love your entire life and are still learning to love. The way you care for your hair and all the work that goes into it is not something you talk about with everyone, not even all of your girlfriends. “I’ll text my stylist tomorrow morning and make sure it won’t be a problem to have an extra body there.”
Harry climbs back into bed and pulls back the covers, snuggling up to you. “Can’t wait.”
⋆⋆⋆
“Harry please c’mon, you know I don’t like being late for things!” You call up the steps of his flat, looking at the time on your phone that read 10:47 a.m.
“‘M comin’, lovie,” he yells down at you. “Lookin’ for my book. Yeh seen it?”
You think for a moment before remembering you saw it on the floor of the bathroom last, assuming he left it there after his bath last night. “Bathroom. I’m gonna wait in your car, okay?” Harry tells you again that he’s coming and you grab his keys from the counter, make sure you have your braiding hair, and go outside. He comes out shortly after, sunglasses on and hood up.
“Sorry, love. I’ll get us there, don’t worry,” he grabs your hand and places a kiss to it. “How do I get there?”
You direct Harry to your hair shop and get there quicker than you anticipated, not realizing that Harry’s place was a little closer to it than yours. He parks the car and scrambles out, quickly walking around to your side to open the door for you. “C’mon babe, didn’t mean to make you late. It’s a few past 11.” His urgency is so cute that you don’t tell him that your hairstylist most likely isn’t even ready for you yet.
Upon walking in, your hairstylist greets you and Harry excitedly. “Hey, girl! Have a seat, I’m almost done with her.” You and Harry look at the client she has in her chair, seeing she’s also getting box braids and isn’t even halfway done.
“See,” you lean over and whisper. “I told you it would be best to go to the farmer’s market next weekend.”
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honey-dewey · 3 years
Text
When I’m Older and I’m Wiser
Pairing: Marcus Moreno/ Dentist Reader
Word Count: 4,262
Warnings: General medical fic involving dentistry and recovering from wisdom tooth surgery. Mentions of pills, blood, needles, and Marcus being very high. Some use of (F/N) (L/N), but not much.
How the hell Marcus Moreno has gotten this far in his life without getting his wisdom teeth removed is beyond you. But that fateful day comes, and honestly you really should just quit being the Heroic’s dentist because it’s probably taking years off your life. Mostly because your current patient is very cute, very high, and in your care for the next 24 hours, which is a dangerous combination.
“Ow.” 
Missy looked over from where she’d been getting a second glass of milk, turning her attention to her dad. Marcus was staring at the eggs on his plate, seemingly frozen. The look on his face could only be described as offended, as if the eggs had just bit him back. 
“What’s wrong?” She asked, sitting back down and nudging Marcus with her foot. 
“Hurts,” Marcus mumbled, putting a hand to his cheek. The last thing he had expected was pain upon eating scrambled eggs, but it was there. 
Missy shrugged, digging into her own eggs. “Could it be a cavity?” 
Marcus shook his head, moving his hand to his other cheek. “Both sides.” 
“Two cavities?” 
Giving Missy a playful dirty look, Marcus took another bite of eggs, face scrunching when the pain persisted. 
Missy raised an eyebrow, and Marcus suddenly regretted having a tiny powerhouse of a daughter. “When was the last time you saw Dr. (L/N)?”
“Uh,” Marcus squirmed a bit under her judgmental gaze, thinking back. “I made an appointment right before your mother passed, but then she died and we were in mourning, and then I quit actively hero-ing full time, and then I took a while off to raise you, and then I started my new job, and then I was kidnapped by aliens, so I dunno. A few years?” 
“A few years?” Missy said, cocking her head slightly. “You make me go every six months!” 
“You’re still growing!” Marcus defended. “I’d be an awful parent if I didn’t keep up with your health.” 
Missy sighed. “Please tell me you’ve seen an actual doctor recently.” 
Marcus nodded. “Saw my GP last month.” 
“Good,” Missy said. “Can you see Dr. (L/N) today please?” 
Again, Marcus nodded. “Y’know, sometimes I wonder just who’s running this household.” 
“It’s me.” 
“I know kiddo. I know.”
Their drive to Heroic headquarters was silent, but comfortable, as it usually was. Marcus parked, the throbbing in his jaw just getting worse as he and Missy got on the bus into headquarters. Missy broke off in the reception area, heading down the hall with a wave. Marcus waved back, smiling at her as she disappeared. 
Wiping his hands on his shirt, Marcus walked up to the receptionist, who gave him a friendly smile. “Hello Marcus, what can I do for you?” 
“Hey Rhea,” Marcus said, leaning slightly on the counter. “When’s my first meeting?” 
Rhea hummed, putting his name into the computer and clicking a few times. “Looks like your earliest meeting is at 2:30.” 
“Awesome,” Marcus groaned. “Does Dr. (L/N) have any available appointments in the morning?” 
“Has someone been skipping out on the dentist?” Rhea said jokingly, moving to a different computer screen. “Was it Missy who made you go?” 
“Yeah.” 
Rhea laughed. “That kid,” she said softly. “And you’re in luck. Dr. (L/N) has an available appointment in half an hour, at nine. I’ll get you set up with it, okay?” 
Marcus sighed. “Yeah, that works. Thank you Rhea. I’ll see you later.” 
He waited for his appointment in the hero lounge, reading a book and chewing absently on his thumb nail. When his watch read ten 'til nine, he put his book in his bag and began to make his way down to the medical wing of the building. 
The medical wing was not one Marcus was in frequently. He knew some of the staff, but not all of them. But he waved to them all the same, eventually reaching the dentist’s section with five minutes to spare. 
“Mr. Moreno!” The nurse behind the reception counter said cheerily. “I thought it had to be a mistake when I saw you had an appointment.” 
“Please,” Marcus said. “Just Marcus will do.” 
The nurse nodded. “Of course. The doctor will be right out. You’re her first of the day, and honestly, I think she thought your name was a typo too. It’s been too long.” 
Marcus sighed. “Yeah. Missy chewed me out about that earlier.” 
“I’ll bet.” The nurse gestured to a row of chairs. “Take a seat. I’ll go see if the doc is ready.” 
Marcus sat down, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs in an effort to calm his nerves. 
“Moreno?” 
He looked up, heart suddenly beating fast. Standing in the doorway that separated the waiting room from the actual office was Dr. (L/N), looking very expectant and a tiny bit disappointed. 
———
Marcus stood, following you back into the office. His steps behind you were nervous, a high contrast to the confident clicking of your shoes. 
“Long time no see,” you said, pushing open a door and gesturing Marcus into the exam room. “What finally brought you back?” 
“Aside from Missy?” Marcus asked, sitting in the chair and rocking his left foot back and forth on the ankle. “I woke up this morning and it hurt to eat breakfast.” 
You nodded, washing your hands and donning a pair of gloves. “And there wasn’t any pain last night?” 
“Maybe a tiny bit.” Marcus watched you sit on a rolling stool, moving so you were just at his side. “But nothing I was worried about.” 
You crossed your legs, thinking. “Did you do any intense training in the past 24 hours?”
“Nothing involving my head.” 
“Well then it’s probably just a cavity or two,” you decided, rolling closer to Marcus’s head and putting both feet on the floor. “Let’s take a look, get some x-rays, and see if we can’t have you feeling better soon.” 
You adjusted the chair so Marcus was staring up at the ceiling, and at a large space mobile you’d hung ages ago. “Ready?” 
“As I’ll ever be.” 
You smiled, pulling a mask up over your nose. “Relax Marcus. I’m not gonna hurt you on purpose.” 
Marcus still squirmed a bit as you examined his mouth, your brows knitting tighter and tighter as you realized this wasn’t a simple case of a few cavities. 
“Marcus,” you said slowly, sitting him up and tugging your mask down under your chin. “You’re in your forties, right?”
“Yeah?” 
“Please tell me you don’t still have your wisdom teeth.” 
Marcus shrugged. “I don’t know. Why? Is that a bad thing?” 
“Most people have theirs removed when they’re teenagers,” you explained, pulling down the x-ray machine. “That way, there’s less risk of nerve damage. It’s not a bad thing to have them removed later in life, but it does come with higher risks.” 
“Oh.” The reassurance didn’t comfort Marcus much as you softly directed him through the various x-rays. 
You pulled the piece of plastic out of his mouth as the final x-ray hit your computer. “Sorry about that,” you said, watching Marcus rub his face. “I know it sucks. But, good news, I have an answer for you.” 
You let Marcus turn so he was facing your computer. “It’s definitely your wisdom teeth,” you said, tugging your gloves off and pointing at the computer screen. “See? All four of them are coming in, which is impressive. I can probably take them out tomorrow, honestly. Those suckers can get really painful really fast, so we’re gonna want to take care of it as soon as possible.” 
Marcus paled. “Tomorrow?” 
“That would be best.” You put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’ll be okay. I do one of these surgeries like, once a month. I know what I’m doing, and you’re going to be just fine.” 
“Okay,” Marcus said, nodding and staring at you. “I believe you.” 
You smiled. “Perfect. So I can schedule your surgery for super early tomorrow, I’m thinking around seven, maybe seven thirty. We wanna get it out of the way early because you can’t eat anything for twelve hours beforehand.” As you explained, you gathered some papers from a desk drawer. “I assume you want general anesthesia.” 
“Is that the option where I sleep through it all?” 
“Yep,” you said, stapling the papers together and handing them to Marcus. “As per protocol, we’re going to need reassurance you’ll be with a responsible adult guardian for at least forty eight, if not seventy two hours post surgery. The first twelve to twenty hour can be brutal, so you definitely want someone there during that.”
Marcus shook his head. “I haven’t got anyone besides my mom, who I assumed would be taking Missy while I healed.” 
“That’s okay,” you promised. “We can get someone here to care for you for two days. You’d have to stay here at headquarters, but you’d be comfortable and cared for. Whatever you do, I’ll call in some pain prescriptions and the like for you to pick up after work today. Just see the pharmacy out front and they’ll give the pills to you.” 
You stood, gesturing Marcus up. “So, to recap. Get here early tomorrow, no food after seven tonight, and wear comfy clothes. Most patients go with sweatpants, but you go with whatever is most comfortable to you. Bring a change of pyjamas and your prescriptions if you’re staying with us, and I’ll see you tomorrow Mr. Moreno,” you said as you led him back to the lobby. 
Tomorrow came faster than anticipated, and before you knew it, it was seven AM and you were waiting for Marcus with your nurse beside you. 
“Damn his mouth is messed up,” the nurse mumbled, looking over the x-rays. “All four?” 
“All four,” you agreed, smiling as the lobby door opened. “Mr. Moreno! Follow me. I assume you stuck with the rules I gave you yesterday?” 
“Yeah,” Marcus said, handing you the paper bag with his prescriptions and a small drawstring bag that presumably had clothes in it. “I’m gonna be staying here.” 
“Perfect,” you said, pushing open the operating room door. “I see we’re dressed for the occasion.” 
Marcus turned red, looking down at his soft black sleep pants and a worn out Fleetwood Mac shirt. “Yeah.” 
You put Marcus’s stuff down on the counter, handing him a small white cup. “That is a super powerful mouthwash,” you explained. “Take it, and do try and keep it in your mouth for a minute. I know it tastes horrible.” 
Marcus did try, but he only made it to thirty seconds before he had to spit out the disgustingly bitter mouthwash. 
You laughed at his face, pulling on your gloves. “Alright Marcus, that works.” 
He smiled softly, relaxing a tiny bit. “Thanks.” 
“I wouldn’t thank anyone who made me take that stuff,” you said, grabbing a thin tube and holding it out. “That goes under your nose and over your ears, just like that,” you praised as Marcus threaded the tube over his ears. “Now, can I see your hand?” 
Marcus let you clip a heart rate monitor to his right index finger, watching as you walked to his other side and held up the final thing. “And last, but not least.” 
Immediately, Marcus looked extremely nervous again. You put down the IV line and rubbed his shoulder, trying to work away some of the tension. “Hey. Look at me. Just a pinch, and then you can take a nice long nap, okay? Deep breaths Marcus, deep breaths.” 
Marcus took a breath, and you carefully took your hand off his shoulder. You slowly directed his head onto the chair’s headrest, still murmuring reassurances. “That’s it. Count the stars on my mobile out loud. I can’t remember how many there are.” 
“Okay.” Marcus looked up, slowly counting out loud as you found his vein and stuck him with the IV line as quickly as you could. You administered some of the anesthesia, smiling as Marcus’s numbers began to slip and slide, until he wasn’t even counting as much as he was just mumbling out random mushy words. 
“Goodnight Marcus.” 
You gestured the nurse in, and she smiled, taking Marcus’s glasses and setting them on top of his other things. You finished off the anesthesia, watching Marcus’s eyes close. 
When he woke again, it was to you pulling the IV line out and taping a cotton ball to his arm. “Wa’s happ’nin’?” He slurred around the cotton and the drugs. 
“The surgery was a success,” you explained softly, despite Marcus not really understanding you. “All four teeth came out with no issue, and we’re about to take you to recovery. Oh, Marcus, keep your head up.” 
Marcus struggled to keep his head upright, and you giggled, holding your hands out. “C’mon. Let’s get you into a real bed.” 
You’d been through this with many patients before Marcus, but he seemed to be a stand-out, as you had some trouble getting him in the wheelchair and down the hallways into the recovery wing. He definitely fell under the ever entertaining category of ‘toddler high’ patients. His slurred words and puppy dog eyes made you laugh more than once on your way to his room. You actually had to stop and pause to laugh when he slurred out that he thought you were an Angel. He simply watched you with an exaggerated worried expression, half his words getting lost as he tried to mumble something out. 
“What was that Marcus?” You asked, wiping your eyes and continuing down the hall with him. 
“You’re tho prethy.” He said, head tipping down. 
“Head up,” you coaxed softly, smiling despite yourself. “Look, there’s your room.” 
Getting him in the room, which was more of a small, one person condo space, was thankfully the hardest part. But once you were in, he was very sleepy putty in your hands. 
“Okay Marcus,” you said gently, helping him out of the wheelchair and onto the couch, piling a few pillows beneath his head “Do you want anything before you go to sleep?” 
Marcus looked up at you. Between his cotton stuffed cheeks and his wide doe eyes, he looked a tiny bit ridiculous. You smiled, pulling out your phone and snapping a quick picture while he was still drugged as hell. “Marcus?” 
“Mittenth.” 
“What?” 
Marcus pointed to his bag. “Mittenth.” 
You walked over to the bag, opening it up and finding a black and white stuffed cat right on top. “Oh. Mittens.” 
You handed the cat to Marcus, who immediately snuggled it to his chest and rolled over a bit, falling asleep instantly. 
Again, you couldn’t help but stare. He looked so innocent like this, all curled up and sleeping. You hesitated to call him adorable, but if the shoe fit.
You sighed, picking up your phone and trailing into the single bedroom. Changing quickly into your leisure clothes, you texted one of the people at the pharmacy and requested a few ice packs and a wisdom tooth slushee. Both things were delivered in a matter of minutes, and you placed them securely in the small freezer to wait for Marcus. 
When he woke up, he was significantly less high. Looking around, Marcus poked his cheeks and made a face. “I can’t feel my nose.” 
“The entire bottom half of your face is numb,” you pointed out from your position at the two person table in the kitchen. “And believe me, you’re gonna want it to stay that way.” 
Marcus sat up, looking over at you. “I’m hungry.” 
“No solids for a while,” you told him, standing and grabbing his slushee. “But you can have this. And before you ask, yes you have to use the spoon.” 
Marcus pouted, but took the slushee. “But the cotton.” 
You nodded, settling on the couch next to him. “Open wide.” 
Marcus did, allowing you to shove two fingers into his mouth and fish out the cotton. “Still bleeding,” you mumbled to yourself. “We’ll shove more in there when you’re done. For now,” You tipped the slushee at him. “Eat up.” 
You turned your attention to the TV while Marcus ate slowly, taking tiny bites and occasionally sticking his tongue out. “It’s really numb.” 
“That’ll fade by tomorrow morning,” you promised. “At noon I want you to take your first pills. Then you get more at one.” 
Again, Marcus pouted, but simply sank lower into the couch cushions and mindlessly watched whatever was on TV. “Is my face swelling?” 
You shrugged. “No more than other patients. But yeah, just a bit.” 
“Do I look stupid?” 
The question made you laugh. “Marcus, I’ve had so many ridiculous patients. You’re no worse than some of my other ones, I promise.” 
Marcus accepted this and continued to take small bites of his slushee. “Why’s it gotta be blue?” 
“Because blue isn’t even remotely close to red.” You didn’t even look up as you answered. “Same goes for when little kids get teeth pulled. You want something that’s soft, easy to swallow, and isn’t the color of blood.” 
“Oh.” 
You nodded. “Yeah. How’s your mouth feeling?” 
Marcus mulled it over, eventually deciding on saying “Kinda achy.” 
“I’ll give you those pills soon,” you said. “It’s gonna be tricky, considering any kind of anything touching those holes in your mouth is gonna hurt like a bitch.” 
“Even water?” 
“Even water.” 
Marcus groaned, and you shrugged. “Sorry. But you’re the one who waited until now to do this.” 
When Marcus finished his slushee, you grabbed a pill bottle off the kitchen counter, quickly glancing at the label and nodding. “Two of these,” you said, opening a cabinet and taking out a glass. “Come here.” 
Marcus trudged over, leaning heavily against the counter’s edge. You put the two round pills on the counter, along with the glass of water. “Best to do it quickly. And one at a time.”  
Picking up one of the pills, Marcus carefully put it on his tongue, taking the glass with a hesitant hand. He took a sip, swallowing quickly and audibly. “Can’t I use a straw?” 
“Yeah,” you said sarcastically. “If you want dry socket, go ahead.” 
“Do I want to know what that is?” 
“Nope.” You pushed the second pill towards Marcus. “Take that, then you can lay back down.” 
Marcus sighed, mirroring his previous action. However, instead of simply swallowing with a tight face, Marcus started, eyes filling with tears as he spit the water into the sink, the pill clattering against the metal. 
You immediately began to worry as Marcus cried. It wasn’t a small tear or two either. He was full on sobbing, gripping the edges of the sink so tight his knuckles went white. 
“Marcus,” you murmured, putting a hand on his arm. He looked up at you, and you put on your most comforting smile. “Hey, it’s okay.” You picked up a towel and slowly wiped the residual water off his face. “C’mere.” 
He collapsed into your arms, going limp and continuing to cry. You rubbed his back, heart tightening whenever he let out a whimper of “hurts.” 
“I know,” you said softly. “I know it hurts. But you have to take the pills.” 
“Can’t,” Marcus hiccuped, burying himself deeper into your sweater. 
“Marcus,” you said firmly, slowly untangling him from you. “I know it hurts. But you’ll be in more pain from not taking the pills. Please, for me?” 
He took a breath. “Can we watch TV afterwards?” 
You smiled. “Of course. I can give you ice for the swelling too.” 
Marcus nodded, looking into the sink. “Do I take that one?” 
“No,” you said, fishing a new pill out of the container. “It’s in the sink, I’m not gonna take that risk. Here.” 
Marcus stared at the unassuming white pill in his hand. “Which one is this?” 
“The acetaminophen.” 
“The what?” 
“Tylenol.” 
Marcus nodded, popping the pill into his mouth and quickly gulping down the water. This time, he avoided hitting his stitches and simply handed you the glass. “I’m not doing that again.” 
You took the glass, putting it in the sink. “You have more pills to take in an hour.” 
Marcus groaned. “TV?” 
“Of course,” you said, walking to the couch and smiling as Marcus fell onto it. “What do you wanna watch?” 
Marcus turned his red rimmed puppy dog eyes on you. “Say Yes to the Dress?” 
You laughed. “Are you serious? We can, but that’s not what I expected at all.” 
“I like trash TV when I feel terrible.” Marcus grabbed Mittens and cuddled the stuffed cat to his chest. 
You found the show, setting it up and standing. “More cotton. You're probably still bleeding, and we definitely don’t want that. Open.” 
It took some finessing to get two more wads of cotton into Marcus’s mouth, but you succeeded, despite his complaints of feeling like a cartoon chipmunk. 
 “I’m gonna go start on dinner,” you said.  “Are you gonna be okay here?” 
Marcus pouted. “Do you have to start now?” 
“Yeah.” You gestured to the kitchen. “Don’t worry, I’ll only be gone for twenty minutes. Soup just needs to sit for a while.” 
Slightly consoled, Marcus zoned out at the TV while you got to work making a simple chicken noodle soup. 
“Done,” you said, wiping your hands and walking back to the couch twenty minutes later. “Marcus, are you still awake?” 
Marcus grumbled, holding his hands out. “C’mere.” 
You passed him an ice pack, and he made a face. “Not what I want.” 
“What do you want?” 
As if somehow knowing they were your kryptonite, Marcus gave you his puppy dog eyes. “Wanna hold you.” 
You sighed, but crawled into his arms anyway. When you finally settled, he was on his back, head and neck propped up on the arm of the couch, and you were on your side between the back of the couch and Marcus. He was warm, wrapping one arm loosely over your waist and using the other hand to press the ice into his cheek. 
You quickly slid into a nice comfortable headspace, occasionally smiling when Marcus commented on the wedding dresses on screen. 
“You dropped Mittens,” you realized after a while, shuffling to grab the discarded toy from the floor. 
Marcus took Mittens, gently placing the cat on his chest, so that it was secure on his sternum. 
“Does Mittens belong to Missy?” 
“Belonged to Clara.” 
“Oh.” You saw the change in demeanor, noticed how Marcus’s face steeled when he said her name. He rarely talked about Clara, especially at work. “I’m-“ 
“Nah,” Marcus said, shaking his head. “It’s the past. I’m happy now, and so is Mittens.” 
You nestled deeper into his chest. “Happy right now?” 
“Definitely happy right now,” Marcus said softly. “Very happy, even though I can’t feel my face.” 
“Even if you could,” you mumbled, knowing where this was headed. “You can’t kiss anyone for a while.” 
Marcus grinned. “I guess we’ll just have to wait then, won’t we?” 
You mirrored his mischievous smile. “You can’t kiss,” you said, scooting upwards, until you were laying on top of Marcus, your belly on his ribs. “But I can.” 
You lay gentle kisses across his cheeks, smiling when he laughed at your insistence upon kissing his nose. His cheeks were cold from the ice and tender from the swelling, but Marcus never tried to stop you, so you continued downwards, kissing the pulse points on his neck. 
“You’re a damn tease,”  Marcus huffed. 
You simply smiled into his skin and tugged the collar of his shirt down, pressing firm kisses into the points of his collarbones.
“Hey,” Marcus nudged your head. “Can we finish this when I don’t have a mouth of stitches? I still can’t feel my tongue.” 
“Of course,” you said, pushing his shirt collar back up and laying your head on his sternum. “How long?” 
“Hm?” 
You shrugged, watching a woman try on a stunning wedding dress on the TV. “How long have you wanted to kiss me?” 
Marcus thought it over. “Last year,” he finally decided. “When Missy had three teeth out. You were so kind, and I just melted.” 
“But you didn’t fall in love hard enough to ever pay me a visit,” you teased, tracing the faded symbol on his shirt. 
“Didn’t ever want to go under and realize I’d spilled everything,” Marcus confessed. 
You smiled. “Too late. You said I looked like an Angel in the hallway.” 
Marcus turned bright red, and you laughed at him. “It’s okay,” you promised, kissing his cheek that didn’t have the ice pack. “I think you’re pretty handsome yourself.” 
That night, after dinner and more pills and ice cream for dessert, you and Marcus settled down in the only bedroom, clinging to each other as if your lives depended on it. 
Waking up was hard. Marcus was well enough to go home, most of the swelling gone and the numbness completely faded. 
“So,” you clicked down the halls of the dentist’s office, Marcus behind you. “No really hot liquids for another few days, and try not to do solids until then either. That antibacterial mouthwash should be used twice a day, and you can start brushing your teeth again in two days. Remember, no straws, take your pills, keep icing your cheeks, and if I see you in this office before this time next week, I will be calling your mother.” 
Marcus nodded as you pulled open the lobby door, where Anita and Missy were waiting. “Anything else Doctor?” 
You shook your head. “You should be all clear Mr. Moreno. I’ll be seeing you for your check-up next week. Don’t you go skipping out on me now.” 
Marcus smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he promised, leaning a bit closer to you. “And I cannot wait to kiss you for real.” 
He pulled away, leaving you flushed and dizzy. “See you next week Doctor.” 
“See you next week Mr. Moreno.”
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anthropwashere · 4 years
Text
deadfic: Bang Babies got nothin’ on the Ghost Kid
More deadfic for @goodintentionswipfest! There was a post circulating on here once upon a time riffing on how OP Danny is compared to regular superheroes, so here’s about 4k of a Static Shock/Danny Phantom crossover that didn’t end up going anywhere.
=
The first time they see him, he’s just a black and white streak that nearly knocks them both out of the sky.
“Who—what was that?” Static gapes once he’s regained his balance. Green data splashes across Gear’s visor, obscuring his own incredulous expression.
“No idea, but they just clocked 154 miles per hour.”
“Well the speed limit here is only 45. Wanna pull ‘em over?”
Gear snorts. “If we can catch ‘em, sure.”
But whoever or whatever it was is long gone. After a week with no other sightings of ‘Flash Noir’ as they call the stranger, they let it go. Whatever it is will turn up, or it won’t. So long as no one’s getting hurt by it, it’s not really their problem, right?
=
The second time they see him is a week after that, and he’s hovering over the school roof just… watching. Other people see him too, and they all point and stare at the figure all in stark black and white, a teenage boy from the waist up and a ribbon of black from the waist down. 
Virgil and Richie share a mutual look of relief. They’d started to think they’d imagined him, never mind what Backpack had recorded. But when they look up at the roof again the kid is gone.
=
The third time they see him, he’s just a black speck barely glimpsed in the streaky post-rain evening sky. They only realize it’s him—and that he’s there at all—because Backpack catches him on the edge of its radar. He’s too high up, way too high up. The air’s just too thin for normal people—or normal bang babies, for what that’s worth. They try to get as close as they can anyway, but he blinks out of existence long before they can make out any details.
=
The fourth time they see him, he’s got a minivan and a corolla balanced in each hand like gravity’s got better things to do than pay him any mind. He’s holding them by the bumpers. Gear promptly loses his mind trying to figure out the physics behind such a feat, so it’s only Static that sees the guy toss a grin their way as he sets the two vehicles down on a stretch of road aways away from the car accident he’d apparently saved them from joining.
The strange kid waves at the families he’d saved, then takes off before Static and Gear can get near him. Backpack helpfully informs Gear that this mysterious guy encroaching on their hero turf clocked 60 miles in two seconds flat.
=
The fifth time they see him, he’s waiting for them in the junkyard looking infuriatingly smug. Static and Gear gape, then jump for him. It’s been starting to feel like chasing a mirage, but this time the guy stays put.
“Relax,” he tells them with a laugh and a lazy grin. “I’m not a bad guy.”
This close they can see he’s not any older than they are. He’d look like any normal kid, except for the glowing green eyes and shock of white hair fluttering in a breeze that isn’t there. 
“Then why are you stalkin’ us?” Static challenges.
“I wouldn’t say ‘stalk,’” the guy replies, defensive. “I’ve just never seen any other superheroes before. I was curious, that’s all.”
“I guess you don’t watch the news much,” Gear says, unimpressed. “You can go a day without hearing about a super making headlines somewhere.”
The kid’s grin turns uneasy. “I’m, uh, not actually from around here. Superheroes are a bit thin on the ground, where I’m from.”
“And where’s that, the North Pole?” Static asks.
The kid rolls his eyes. “Through an interdimensional rift in space four blocks from here. Hang a right past the Lovecraft reference and straight on ‘til morning.”
Static and Gear share an exasperated look.
“Look, kid,” Gear begins heatedly, only to be cut off.
“Oh no, no fair. You guys look like you’re still in high school too, so cut it out with the ‘kid’ stuff. The name is Phantom.”
Gear huffs. “Fine, Phantom. Point is we appreciate the help. You’re doing good work. But the superhero thing’s dangerous. You can’t just, y’know, jump into it.”
As if the two of them hadn’t done just that. But, y’know. It felt right to warn the guy, at least.
“It’s not a matter of ‘if’ you’ll get hurt if you stick with it,” Static adds. “And, okay, you might be new in town, so maybe you don’t know, but the two of us have got Dakota covered just fine.”
Phantom rolls his eyes, bouncing into the air. Gravity really doesn’t pay him any mind at all. How does he fly? Telekinesis? He does it like he’s so used to it the switch from standing to hovering is as natural as breathing. “Trust me, this city’s a walk in the park compared to what I deal with. Forgive me for seeing a chance to lend a hand to a couple of kids who clearly needed the help.”
“Now wait a minute—”
He drifts higher. “Oh, and by the way, there’s a guy calling himself Hotstreak waiting for you on ice by the community center. You’re welcome.”
“Wait—!”
But he blinks out of sight just like his name would suggest he could. There’s a pause as they both stare stupidly at thin air, then Gear swears. “‘On ice?’ Don’t tell me he’s got ice powers too.”
Phantom does, in fact, have ice powers too. Talk about overkill.
=
The sixth time Phantom makes an appearance, Virgil Hawkins is eating dinner with his dad and sister. He happens to glance out the window only to see a pair of neon green eyes staring back at him. Virgil drops his glass, yelping when milk splashes his mostly empty plate and spills into his lap.
“What’s the matter with you?” His sister asks.
“Uh. I—nothing! Nothing at all! I just—remembered that I, uh. Book report! I left my book report at Richie’s and I need to go get it!”
“Can’t it wait until school tomorrow?” His dad asks.
“No—no, it can’t, because I, uh, I still need to type it up and—and it’s due first period!” 
He runs out of the kitchen and out the front door before either of them can yell at him to clean up the mess he’d made. He stands on the stoop, panting and trying not to panic, and Phantom swoops into view upside down with that smug grin on his face again.
“Well hey there, sparky,” he says.
Virgil thinks he maybe has a heart attack, a little bit, before he finds the strength to speak. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!” He yells in a furious stage whisper, grabbing the kid out of the air to drag him closer. “The first rule of superheroes is minding the secret identity thing, especially around family, and you just blew that right out of the water!”
Virgil’s hand goes briefly numb and Phantom slips out of his grasp. “I wouldn’t say ‘just,’” he replies, looking guilty.
Virgil’s gonna strangle him, he really is. “How long have you known who I am?”
“Wwwwwell, a couple weeks back I saw local heroes Static and Gear walk into an abandoned gas station and two normal teenagers walk out. I don’t know your real names and I didn’t know you lived here, I swear. I was just flying by and recognized your hair out of the corner of my eye. I swear,” he repeats hastily at Virgil’s murderous expression.
Virgil counts to five, then back down again, and is still just as pissed. “Fine. Okay. C’mon.”
He starts walking towards Richie’s house, because no way is he doing this on his own. Behind him Phantom asks, “Uh, where are you going?”
“We are going to R—Gear’s place. The three of us are gonna sort this out, and don’t you even think of pulling another one of your disappearing acts to get out of it!”
Phantom scoffs. “Oh yeah, because I’m so inconspicuous otherwise. Here, hold still.” He grabs Virgil’s shoulder and a chill washes over him. He startles, trying to pull away, but Phantom may as well have steel rebar for bones. Virgil looks down and yelps even louder than when he’d spilled milk all over himself; the ground has fallen away without even a rusty, trusty trash can lid underfoot. And speaking of feet, where are his feet?
“Augh, what? Whoa, no, let me go!”
“Quit squirming.”
Oh, no. He’s not getting the evil grunt orders fifty feet in the air. He grabs the hand he can’t see and sends a warning bolt. Phantom grunts, twitching. 
“Augh, easy sparky! Which way is Gear’s house?”
“How is this less inconspicuous you maniac? Put me down—and don’t drop me!”
“Oh, for—you’re invisible right now.” He looks up and there’s nobody above him, but he can hear Phantom all the same. “I pulled a disappearing act and brought you along. Seriously, man, I know I’ve been goofing off and setting you on edge, but I really didn’t mean to spy. You wanna talk to Gear about the blown cover thing—I really don’t know your names still, by the way—and I wanna come to an agreement.”
Virgil sighs. These bang babies all gotta stop being so crazy. But hey, at least this one doesn’t seem like he’s about to rob any banks. “Hang a right at this light.”
=
It is officially too weird to watch your own body reappear before your own eyes. Virgil shudders.
“First time with invisibility?” Phantom waggles his eyebrows. “How do you feel?”
“...Tingly. Warn me before you do that again, alright?”
“You just gave me blanket permission to do it again basically whenever, you realize that, right?” 
“Wh—I did not!”
Phantom rolls his eyes and phases through the roof. Seriously, there’s got to be a limit to how many spooky ooky poltergeist powers a guy can have, right? A moment later Virgil hears Richie yowling, and Phantom reappears with Richie in tow. He sets Richie down, gentle as you please, then promptly explodes.
Virgil recoils, blinking white light out of his vision. When he can see clearly again, Phantom is gone and there’s a regular teenager standing in his place, black-haired and fresh out of glowing green eyes. One forearm is bandaged from wrist to elbow.
“Wh-what?” Richie asks for the both of them.
The kid smiles, waving his uninjured hand. “Danny Fenton. It’s nice to see you without the visor.”
=
Turns out, Danny wasn’t kidding about being from a different dimension. He shows them the door he pops in and out of and everything. It’s an emergency exit of an old theater downtown, perfectly normal to Virgil’s eyes. Richie opens it. Rusty hinges squeal and Virgil can glimpse the vague suggestion of chairs in the dark.
“It only works if you’re focusing on the Ghost Zone,” Danny says.
“The what now?”
Richie shakes his head. “Oh no, no way. Please don’t tell me I’m talking to a dead guy.”
Danny laughs. “Nah, I’m basically as normal as either of you when I’m like this.”
Considering Virgil can do exactly as much damage as he can wearing his superhero gear, that’s not exactly comforting.
Danny nudges Richie aside, shuts the door and opens it up again. Just like that the theater’s interior is gone. There’s a hole in the world instead, bleeding radioactive green into the alleyway. There are hundreds—no, thousands—of violet doors floating in a green void that twists in dizzying shapes before his eyes. There’s no ground, no sky, it goes on forever in all directions.
“That—” Richie swallows. “That’s where you’re from?”
Danny shuts the door. Virgil tries to ignore the relief that makes jelly out of his knees, but dang, that really needed a better warning. “No, of course not. I’m from Earth, same as you. Just a, well, a slightly different one, I guess. A parallel one. That place is where ghosts come from. I only ended up here by mistake.”
“Take a left at the Lovecraft reference?” Virgil asks, rubbing his eyes. 
“Ha, pretty much. I was trying to escape the Lovecraft reference. That’s, uh, not what it’s name probably is? My friend Sam called it that and I can’t understand it, so, that’s kind of stuck. It’s got enough teeth to deserve being called ‘Lovecraft reference,’ anyway.”
“Sam?” Richie asks. “Is that someone else, uh, on your team?”
“It’s not really a team. She doesn’t have super powers or anything, if that’s what you mean.”
“That’s right, you said superheroes are thin on the ground where you’re from,” Virgil says. “So I guess it’s just you dealing with the big and toothy?” 
“Basically, yeah. Not a lot of opportunity to do what I did to get my powers.”
“What’d you—”
Danny holds up both hands. “Nope, nuh-uh. You’ve got your secrets, I’ve got mine.”
=
The seventh time they see Phantom, they finally see him in proper action. Ebon’s gang has struck a bank—Virgil’s big mouth and bad luck strikes a home run, as usual—and by the time Static and Gear arrive on the scene they’ve stolen a truck and are two blocks from the bank. Talon is flying overhead, keeping an eye out for cops or goody-good superheroes, while the rest of the gang’s inside.
They don’t stop to see who’s hurt. They’d passed an ambulance on the way, and it’s not like either of them are good for more than getting the injured to emergency care. They take chase, and the armored truck doesn’t make it another block before Gear’s knocked Talon out of the sky and Static has netted the truck in a web of electricity. It’s heavy though, too heavy for him to do more than keep its tires squealing in place and hoping Gear can gimmick up something to slow it down a little more. Ebon’s smart though. He’s not gonna pick a fight here, and Static will burn himself out long before the tires do.
“Gear!” He yells desperately.
“Working on it!”
But it’s Phantom that swoops in from nowhere, soaring down in front of the truck. He, impossibly, lifts the wheels off the street one-handed. It’s enough help to let Static focus his attention on popping the wheels off before releasing his net. He sinks to his knees, disc wobbling dangerously beneath him, catching his breath.
“I—hate—armored trucks,” he wheezes.
“Static!” Phantom calls out, startled, which means breaktime is over. He stretches his hand out and ties Shiv up with a nearby stop sign before he gets to his feet again. Phantom’s rushed off to help Gear with Talon who’s back in the air, which just leaves Ebon to Static.
Ebon slides out of the truck, an inky, glowering smear. “Who’s the new guy?”
“Friend from out of town. Why, you feelin’ like we’re not bondin’ like we used to?”
Ebon doesn’t reply, just slaps Static away. The air gets knocked out of him and he lands in a sprawl halfway down the street. Before he can recover he hears Talon scream. He slams his hands to his ears reflexively, but luckily she wasn’t aiming at him. Not so luckily, Gear and Phantom hit asphalt a few yards away.
“You okay?” Static calls out.
“I hate when she does that,” Gear complains too loudly, shaking his head like a dog and looking nauseous. Yeah, Static hates it too. He’d take getting slapped around by Ebon over having his hearing scrambled any day. 
Phantom springs up quicker than either of them, grinning madly. “She wants a screaming match, huh?” 
Gear looks as aggrieved as Static feels. “Do not tell me you can do that too.”
Phantom’s grin widens, eyes blazing, as Talon rejoins Ebon and Shiv at the armored truck. Shiv must’ve cut himself free of the stop sign at some point. Static makes a mental note to use two stop signs next time. The three of them are hauling bags out of the back, clearly planning on Ebon’s easy getaway trick to get at least some of the cash they’d stolen.
Static gets to his feet, zapping his disc underfoot again as he considers a half dozen strategies to take them out and not liking any of them. Ebon’s always been too slippery; it’s likely he’ll get away no matter what—
A hand claps down on his shoulder. 
“Stay behind me,” Phantom says.
“What are you—”
But there’s no time to finish asking what because Phantom takes a deep breath and wails. There’s waves of concentric neon green energy bursting from his mouth, radiating out and down to Ebon’s gang. The armored car, down two tires, goes shrieking and sparking down the street. Two parked cars follow after, their windows shattering, their frames buckling. Ebon, Talon, and Shiv don’t even have time to grab at their ears; they go down like bowling pins, and don’t get up again.
The click of Phantom’s teeth when he finally stops wailing seems awfully loud. Static feels like he just walked out of a concert he’d been too near the speakers at for; his ears are ringing, his hands and feet are tingling, and his chest hurts vaguely. He swallows, looks back at Gear who’s just shaking his head a little. He looks at Phantom; the kid’s got beads of green on his forehead and he’s breathing hard.
“Sorry,” his voice cracks a little, “That one’s kinda hard to put a lid on.”
=
After sorting out things with the police—which Phantom vanished for, literally—they invite him back to the gas station for what is, in essence, dinner and an interrogation. Richie declares he’s had enough surprises and Virgil agrees. So they stop to grab a couple of pizzas and manhandle Danny to the gas station. Danny lets himself be manhandled with no shortage of eye rolling.
“Sit,” Richie orders, shoving a paper plate laden with three slices of pepperoni into Danny’s hands. “Explain.”
Danny sits obediently, raising his eyebrows like he’s trying not to grin. “Uh, explain what?”
“You! Your ridiculous collection of powers, where you come from, why you’re not strutting around your weird parallel Earth or whatever as Grand High Emperor of—of everything!”
Danny can’t help the grin. Virgil’s hiding one behind a can of soda too though, so he can’t judge. “Grand High—what? Do you have one of those here?”
“Danny.”
“C’mon. We agreed on no details, didn’t we? This wouldn’t even be a conversation we’d have if you were the ones coming to my city.”
“We agreed to that when it seemed like you were just another souped up Bang Baby,” Virgil cuts in, “but this is getting ridiculous. I’m not sure I like the idea of Superman’s ghost charging through Dakota any time he feels like it, especially since supers tend to bring their problems along with ‘em.”
“If you want me gone, I’ll leave. I was just trying to give you guys a hand when things were slow in Am—my city.”
“We never asked your overpowered butt for help in the first place!” Richie snaps.
Danny opens his mouth to snap something back but his phone goes off instead. He glares at them both as he pulls it out of his jeans pocket, flipping it open. His eyes widen at whatever the text reads, he fires off a quick reply, then drops his uneaten pizza on the table. “Look, here I am, going. All right?”
“Trouble in paradise?” Virgil quips.
Danny ignores it, but stops halfway to the door to look back over his shoulder. His eyes are bright green, which Virgil’s learning means more trouble than it’s worth. “You know what? How about you come visit Amity Park with me?”
=
The Ghost Zone is just as dizzying as Static thought it would be, and in no time at all he’s hopelessly lost and he has a monster of a headache. It’s like he’d put his face right up against a neon sign no matter where he looks; just bright green smears and the odd clutter of purple doors. “Man, you sure you’re not lost?”
Phantom throws a grin over his shoulder. “Relax, I’ve done this plenty of times.”
“Is it even safe for, uh, regular people to be here?” Richie asks nervously. “I’m getting some bizarre readings here that Backpack can’t make heads or tails of. I feel like I should have nabbed a HAZMAT suit too.”
“My parents and friends have been in and out of the Ghost Zone dozens of times, and they’re totally fine.”
“Radiation poisoning can take decades to affect people,” Gear points out.
“Eh, so maybe they’ll glow in the dark or something twenty years from now. Ectology is kind of in its infancy. Anyway, we’re here.”
There’s a circular hole of swirling green, lighter than the fog around them and suspended in a solid looking riveted steel frame. Phantom holds up one hand to stop them, sticking his head through. “We’re good,” he says when he’s popped back out. “C’mon.”
Gear and Static share one last nervous look before following after.
They find themselves in some kind of high-tech basement done all out in sleek chrome, like a mad scientist’s lab out of a Saturday morning cartoon. There are beakers and flasks bubbling with syrupy neon green stuff, barrels with CAUTION stamped on the sides, and the kind of tables that wouldn’t look out of place in a flashy investigation show morgue. Static breaks out in goosebumps and can’t even pretend to play it off on it being a little chilly in here. 
“My parents built the Ghost Portal,” Phantom says, pointing back at the circle of green light still swirling behind them. “But I’m the one who made it work.”
Seeing the Portal on this side makes Gear’s breath hitch, and Static breathes out a stunned, “Whoa.” It’s an octagon framed by fat black and yellow caution stripes, easily fifteen feet in diameter. The Portal itself is identical to how it appeared on the Ghost Zone’s side, a constant dizzying swirl of toxic greens staining the enormous lab like some kind of mutant aquarium.
“Is this thing open all the time?” Gear stutters. “How is your family not dead? Heck, the whole city? This thing’s pouring out energy on a—I need to invent a new scale to quantify these readings just so I can make sense of them!”
Phantom laughs, grabbing a chrome cylinder glittering with green designs. “Don’t worry about it, seriously. My mom would know if it was, like, properly dangerous. Now c’mon, I want you to meet a regular of mine.”
=
Two more teenagers are waiting for them outside an evacuated post office. The girl, white with a distinctly Goth taste in clothes, gives Phantom a look that plainly states she thinks he’s nuts. “You didn’t mention you’d be bringing them through,” she says flatly.
The guy, black with thick-rimmed glasses and dressed like he can’t decide if he’s going for ‘frequents Starbucks’ or ‘military surplus’, rolls his eyes and waves. “Hi, I’m Tucker. That’s Sam. Don’t mind her, she’s just pissed the Box Ghost got the jump on her.”
“The one time I leave the house without a Thermos,” she huffs, crossing her arms.
“Sorry about the wait.” Phantom says. “Guys, this is Static and Gear.”
“Charmed,” Static says automatically. Gear just grunts.
“Don’t need three guesses to guess who,” Tucker grins. “We can catch up later. You wanna do the honors, Danny?”
“Nah.” Phantom looks at Static and Gear, looking worryingly pleased. “I helped you out with the, what’s it, Ebon and Friends. Why don’t you take a crack at one of mine?”
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yespolkadotkitty · 4 years
Note
PLEASE pluck Ricky from obscurity like you did Zach!!!
Right so you are all fairly keen on this guy because I also got these:
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Pick You Up
Ricky Hauk x reader
Word count: 1700 ~ Warnings: None really. Light angst. Kissing.
Lovely gif by @ithinkwehitametaphor
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i
You’ve not lived in this town long. The first time you use the gas station, the tall, skinny guy behind the counter glances at you from under his ball cap, the red brim only serving to bring out the slices of amber in his soulful brown eyes. There’s a crease in his cupid’s bow, the thumb print of a God proud of his work. He rings up your service, gives you a collection time.
When you park up back at home, you see it. A note under your unused windscreen wiper.
Autumn in her eyes
Her hair ropes of burnished gold,
Kissed by corners of the
Falling leaves. Will seasons pass
Before I look upon her
Once more?
ii 
The poem was from him. You know it. You know it because the next time you bring your car back, when winter’s starting to bite chunks out of the temperature, you see him write something on your receipt in the same loopy scrawl. He sees you looking. Ricky is embroidered on his navy blue overalls. A flush creeps up his cheeks, and you wonder how old he is. Twenty? You could cry over his perfect cheekbones. 
“It should be more than that?” you ask when he rings you up.
The corner of his mouth curves up. “Returning customer discount. No one will miss a few quarts of gas.”
There’s a worn, tattered book propping up a wonky corner of the cash register. A Poem for Every Day of the Year.
And when you arrive home, there’s another scrap of paper under your windscreen wiper.
Winter’s grasp is far-reaching
Fingers dug in tight
But footprints thaw frozen ground,
A smile melts frostbite
Inch by Inch
You fold the paper carefully, tuck it under a magnet on your fridge, next to the one you already have. Wonder what it means. If he writes poetry for all his customers.
iii 
Before Winter ends, your exhaust pipe crashes off the end of your car and you narrowly miss swerving off the road in shock at the huge bang it makes. You drive right to the service station, and like a dream, there he is, the huge roller door of the workshop open, and he’s bent over another car, his ball cap on backwards, overalls half-unzipped. Heat is pumping out of the workshop interior and you park your car. As you shut the door, Ricky looks up, and his face goes slack for a second, before he plasters a polite query on the handsome canvas. “Uh, hey. Can I help you?”
“Exhaust pipe fell off on the highway,” you sigh. “I know she’s a hunk of junk, but I just can’t afford to replace her, not yet.”
“I’ll give it my best shot.” Ricky holds out his hand for the keys, a smear of grease on his thumb, and you stare at his palm for a moment, wondering what his hands would feel like on your skin. If he’d leave a fingerprint of grease behind.
You wouldn’t mind much, if he did.
iv
You have to leave the car overnight, eventually. Ricky comes into the tiny office with the noisy watercooler and tiny wall-mounted TV that only shows one God-awful news channel. His hands are shoved into his overall pockets and there’s a streak of engine grease on his cheek.
“Uh, I’m sorry, but she’s gonna have to stay in until tomorrow. My boss has gotta check the weld, and he’s stuck in the snowstorm one state over.”
“Okay.” You’re not cross with him. What would be the point?
Ricky looks from the clock to you. He probably has a hot date you’re keeping him from, you think with a little sadness. “Um, I’ve gotta lock up now. I can drive you home. If you want.” He jerks his thumb at the window to his right. A beaten up red truck sits outside.
“Thank you. That’d be great.”
The snow has started to fall in earnest. Ricky locks up the gas station and pockets the keys as the shutter finally closes up tight. He opens the passenger door for you, waits until you’re safely strapped in before he gets in on his side and starts the engine. “You’ll have to direct me.” He tugs off the ball cap and stuffs it in the glove box.
“Wait,” you say, as his hand hovers over the stick.
He glances at you with an eyebrow raised, that poet’s mouth set solemnly, his tiger iron eyes so large in his face, larger somehow with his thick hair sticking up at all angles, and he looks so young but like he has an old soul. Like he’s seen so much; too much, and he is so tired.
“Why did you write me those poems?”
Ricky looks away, chewing his bottom lip.
“You did, didn’t you?”
“So what?” he throws back, still not looking at you. “I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you wanna hear?”
Your heart cracks down the middle. “No, it isn’t. They were beautiful. I kept them.”
His gaze shoots to yours. “You are beautiful,” he says, very soberly. 
And you lift your hand to his cheek and then he’s kissing you, earnestly, his lips soft and sweet and unpracticed. Not that you’re experienced, but you estimate yourself as perhaps half a decade older than him. He groans into your mouth and desire skitters through you. You part your lips for him and he finally touches you, just a hand on your thigh, his palm warm through your worn, old jeans.
The drive to your house is full of thick, syrupy tension. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice the way Ricky subtly adjusts himself during the ten minute trip.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to help him out with that.
He parks outside your building, and you kiss him again before you leave, nipping at his tempting lower lip, making him curse, low and sweet in that sinful, husky voice, still a little thready with youth.
“I’ll work on your car first thing tomorrow?” he half asks, half informs you, as you open the passenger door. The cold wind arcs in, biting at your skin. “I could pick you up. Early. If you want.”
You nod. “Okay. Thanks.”
Ricky catches your hand, tangles your fingers. “Guys like me write poetry about girls like you because it’s the only way we’ll be with you,” he mutters, and there’s something so sad and resigned in the depths of his butterscotch gaze.
You don’t know what to say, and if you kiss him again you run the serious risk of being arrested for indecent behaviour in his truck.
v
He’s early the next morning. You’re not ready. 
“Come up,” you say through the buzzer, and in a matter of moments you’re opening your apartment door to him. He holds the service station ball cap in his hands, wringing it nervously, and his overalls are half-unzipped to reveal a plain white t-shirt. He smells of cheap cologne and minty toothpaste, and his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“Want a coffee?” you ask. “I’ll be five minutes.”
“No, thanks. Uh, I’m fine.” He stands by the door, like he needs permission to sit down. 
You rush around, calling your boss to remind him about your car situation. He’s stuck at home anyway due to a snowdrift, so he doesn’t chew you out.
Pulling on your winter boots - hopefully they’ll see you through to March - you step out of the bedroom. Ricky’s leaning over your kitchen counter, scrawling something on a post-it note. He jerks up, guilt sketched on his angular face.
“Sorry.”
“Not at all.”
He folds the paper over. “Don’t read it.. Til later.”
He turns to face you, hesitates, wariness and want and need laid bare in those gorgeous hazelnut eyes.
“Could I… kiss you? Maybe?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, and Ricky cups your face in his broad, callused hands, and lowers his mouth to yours, and the kiss starts soft and sweet, explorative, and then you slide your hands up his shoulders and tangle your fingers in his thick, tattered-silk hair, and he backs you into the wall, his lips urgent on yours, licking into your mouth, and you drink him in like you’re starved for the taste of him. He groans against your lips, one hand slipping down your back to palm your ass, and-
And your phone rings shrilly from your bag. Your work mobile.
You and Ricky spring apart. 
“I’d better get that.”
It turns out to be a shitty sales call, but the moment’s been broken. You mostly manage to ignore the distended shape of Ricky’s jeans, but his face is red the whole drive to the garage.
When you arrive, a man who you guess to be Ricky’s boss is already there, opening the shutter. Ricky turns to you, his hand hesitant on your thigh. “Maybe…. Maybe you’d wanna see me again? 
You cover his hand with yours, link your fingers. “I’d love to see you again, Ricky.”
His smile lights up the dreary winter day.
*****
Special thanks to @dornish-queen without whose watchlist, this fic would never have happened.
Tagging the Pedro pals! @gamingaquarius @a-seeker-of-imagination @songsformonkeys @alldatalost @dornish-queen @lackofhonor @alienprincesspoop @beccaplaying @cryptkeepersoul @keeper0fthestars @winters-buck @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @jaime1110 @nelba @heatherbel @thewayofthemandalorian @agirllovespasta @seawhisperer @holographic-carmen @mrschiltoncat @mourningbirds1 @emmy-dandiliom918 @trippedmetaldetector @starlight-starwrites @oloreaa @thegreenkid @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @buckstaposition @pedropascallion @pajamasecrets @knittingqueen13 @skdubbs @opheliaelysia
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hurricanery · 3 years
Text
all to myself
A/N: This is a quick thing I wrote completely as a result of re-watching season 15 Amelink moments. Kinda a throwback. The next story I post will either be some domestic amelink/scout stuff orrrr a multi-chapter AU featuring amelink as interns together w/ some other original characters. Let me know what you wanna read next! Feedback is always appreciated!
_______
Floating on a high, and I feel ya
Got an ache inside, and I need ya
Ooh, I desperately wanna be lost with you
'Til all of our energy crosses
_______
They slept together. Once. Two weeks ago. Rather impulsively at a work conference.
And Amelia knows it was more than just an impulsive move, or a soon-to-be repressed mistake. God, she doesn’t see it as a mistake.
She’s been thinking about it basically 24/7 since she returned back to Seattle. She doesn’t remember finally being able to fall asleep that night, but she does remember waking up the next morning with a start.
Because something was different. Good different.
She had sat up in the hotel bed, instantly reaching for her own lips, running her fingertips over them, as if she’d actually feel proof of what happened.
And then she had registered that distinct taste on her lips and vaguely in the back of her throat. Kind of like the burning sensation of a kiss you’ll never not think of. It was a bold presence in her morning. And it was so refreshing.
Her heart had clenched as she let the hazy memories resurface.  
If asked whether she anticipated sleeping with Atticus Lincoln on that night, she would’ve burst out into stunned laughter. Because, no. Of course not. Right?
She’d just ended a long-term relationship. She’d been in a bit of a weird place lately. Not totally herself. And probably not ready. So, this definitely wasn’t going to become anything serious.
But somehow, something had changed that night. And in that moment, after a brief argument that had surprisingly ended in a dinner invite, looking into a pair of pleading blue eyes that she wished didn’t mirror her own, she knew what her next move was.
And it was the way he had gazed back at her, that finally pushed her over the edge. Deciding dinner wasn’t truly what she wanted in that moment, she murmured a quick ‘no’ before stepping forward and capturing his soft lips in her own.
She remembers the way he had instantly kissed her back, and the way his breath felt against her own. Her hands went to the buttons on his shirt, and the noise that she had made in the back of her throat, a mix between a whine and a full-fledged moan. As if to say, finally.
She likes to think it was Link who took control then, slipping his tongue into her mouth and pulling his own shirt the rest of the way off. Pushing her toward the bed and lifting her onto it. Pushing down a wall she’d had up for some time now. Making her feel.
Alternative pain relief.
Finally. Feeling.
_______
Two weeks later and Amelia’s still feeling. A lot.
But her mind is clouded mostly with confusion. Because she hasn’t heard anything from Link since that night. And she hopes to god that he doesn’t regret it. But she’d totally understand if he did. She’s the one in a weird place. The one who needs alternative pain relief.
Part of her feels guilty. The inexplicable doubt weighs on her, the fact that she’s basically using him. Just because she needs it, doesn’t mean he does, too. And so Amelia suppresses any urge she has to bring it up; suppresses any urge she has to just jump his bones right then and there, when the two of them are hopping on a private plane to New York for a surgery. Basically forced into each other’s company.
She’ll act cool, calm, collected….all of it.
She’ll disregard the fact that she’s been ‘in a weird place these days,’ because she’s just grateful that she’s feeling, again.
_______
Amelia steps onto the small plane and all of her anxieties about seeing Link again wash away as soon as she locks eyes with him.
He turns to her, from where he has already taken his seat, and awkwardly kind of shrugs, with a sheepish smile on his face.
“Hey, stranger,” she mumbles, in a mock-serious tone, before she realizes she can’t keep up the facade. And she starts laughing. “Long time, no see.”
Link laughs in agreement, and it looks like his shoulders relax a little. Amelia takes her seat across from him, smirking the whole time.
_______
It happens again.
Amelia doesn’t mean for it to happen again, but it does.
And now she’s slipping out of Link’s bed and pulling on his shirt in one swift movement. Her ‘no sleepovers’ policy at the forefront of her mind as she makes her way to the door between their adjoining hotel rooms.
“Wait, how about we order pizza?”
Amelia glances at Link incredulously. “We have a very important surgery early tomorrow. Sleep time.”
“Or room service?” He continues, persistent. “Room service in bed and then we sleep?”
“No,” Amelia laughs. “No sleepovers, remember?”
Link pouts at her, collapsing back against the bed dramatically. “Let’s forget the rules for a night. I’m hungry.”
“Nope!” Amelia states matter-of-factly. “No complications. We both agreed. My life is already complicated enough.” She laughs.
Link sighs again dramatically, accepting defeat.
“Goodnight, Link.” She smirks at him as he lays back against the bed. “See you tomorrow.”
There’s brief silence as she turns around in her doorway, beginning to push the door shut.
“Goodnight, Amelia.”
_______
The following evening, after a successful surgery, Amelia and Link return to their hotel. As they enter the lobby, the receptionist at the front desk waves in their direction. Amelia simply waves back before she realizes that the receptionist is trying to wave her over.
“I’ll go see what’s up. Hold the elevator for me.” Amelia mumbles.
Link presses the button to call the elevator down and watches from across the lobby as Amelia chats briefly with the staff. A minute later, Amelia returns with a weird look on her face.
“What was that about?” Link asks.
“There’s a problem with the rooms,” she explains. She looks riddled with uncertainty. “Well, with my room.”
“Huh?”
“Apparently my hotel room is reserved for another guest starting early tomorrow. They offered to upgrade me starting tonight.”
Link frowns.
“I didn’t want to have to move all my luggage to another floor so….” She pauses briefly as they step onto the elevator. The next sentence comes out in a nervous mumble. “I said we only needed one room.”
Link slowly breaks out into a smile. “We can work with that,” He says calmly. “Good idea to not have to move your stuff.”
The elevator door opens to their floor and Amelia just stands there for a second, watching Link exit.
She swears she can hear him laughing at her sudden awkwardness as he makes his way down the hallway.
Once Amelia gets all of her luggage settled into Link’s room, she returns to the lobby briefly to return the key card to her previous room.
She re-enters their now shared hotel room and watches as Link sighs tiredly, leaning toward the bed before dramatically sprawling out on it.
Amelia laughs loudly at his action. “You were great today.” She sits on the chair in the corner to remove her ankle boots and jacket. “In surgery I mean.”
“As were you.” Link responds, picking his head up to glance at her. “Very few people in this world can do what you did today.”
Amelia smiles sheepishly at the wholeheartedness of his words, then suddenly stands up.
“I’m gonna shower.” She states, “I’ll just be a few.”
Link tries not to pass out on top of the covers before she returns. He can hear her humming slightly to herself from inside the bathroom, and Link stifles the urge to mock her in any way.
Link changes into some sweatpants and a t-shirt before he hears the water turn off.
“Ah, shit,” he hears Amelia hiss through the thin walls.
“Amelia?” he calls, almost too quickly, cursing himself for being too attentive.
There’s a moment of silence.
“Uh, yeah? Yeah, Hi. Everything’s cool in here. Yep. Don’t worry.” And then she laughs.
“Uhhhh,” he draws out his response. “You sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah, I’m just…..clumsy. Dammit.” She laughs again breathlessly. “I, uh. I cut my shin…. shaving….I thought it stopped bleeding, but…”
Silence falls between them again and Amelia can’t help but laugh at the situation she’s gotten herself in.
“Do you need my help?”
“Uh, no. I don’t think so.” She knows she doesn’t sound convincing.
“…Amelia?”
“Actually, do you have a bandaid? …..Or like six?”
There’s another pause before Amelia can hear some shuffling around in the other room.
“There’s got to be a first aid kit in here somewhere.” Link responds, making his way to the closet “Got it!”
He walks over to the bathroom but pauses with his hand on the door knob. “Should I come in?”
“Yeah, yeah. Please.” Comes a muffled reply.
Link opens the door and is met with an unexpected sight. Not entirely sure what to expect, but Amelia, wrapped up in a white towel, sitting on the lid of the closed toilet seat, leg propped up on the edge of the bathtub, was not it.
He bursts out laughing.
“This is not funny!” But she’s laughing, too. And rolling her eyes at him. “I need those bandages!”
“Wait, no. Amelia. You can’t just put a bandaid on there. You’re bleeding, like, a lot.” He kneels down next to her, and Amelia instinctively pulls her towel tighter underneath her arms. Link gives her a look, as if to say, 'It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before. Now please let me assess your injury.’
And Amelia just relaxes her shoulders, nodding to herself and to him.
“And you’re soaking wet, no bandaid is gonna stay on your skin like this,” he mutters, pushing the ropes of her wet hair back past her shoulders, in hopes that it would help her dry faster.
He grabs a roll of toilet paper from under the sink and goes to work at stopping the bleeding, holding it there for a while until he thinks it’s okay to wrap up.
“Now six bandaids seems a little excessive there, Amelia. How about two?”
“I think I deserve at least four,” she bargains, endearing smirk on her face.
“Fine,” Link gives in, gently placing each bandaid on her shin one at a time. “There. Good as new,” he smiles, patting her leg.
Amelia rolls her eyes, blushing. “Thanks.”
And then Link stands, not sure what to do with himself now.
“I’m going to change now,” Amelia laughs.
And now Link’s blushing. “Yeah, yep. I’ll get out of your way,” he mumbles, exiting the tiny bathroom.
_______
When Amelia enters the room a few minutes later in an oversized t-shirt, which is what she normally wears to bed, she swears she sees Link do a double take. He’s now dressed in sweats standing near his open luggage in the opposite corner of the room. His stare lingers for a second too long and Amelia looks down at herself. She doesn’t understand the sudden awkwardness between them. But the air feels different.
“I know. Sorry, this is all I have,” she mumbles. “And I thought I’d have my own room tonight so-”
“What? No, you’re fine,” Link responds quickly.
She grins at him, clearly amused by him.
Link shakes his head at himself and turns to grab a couple pillows off of the bed, tossing them on to the floor.
“What are you doing?” Amelia interrupts him.
“Making a bed for myself on the floor?” It comes out as a question. “No sleepovers, remember?” He laughs, knowingly.
Amelia looks stunned, but only for a moment.
“No you’re not,” Amelia laughs. “Just get in here,” she adds, as she crawls under the covers on one side of the bed.
Link gratefully tosses the pillows back, getting into bed beside Amelia, sitting against the headboard as he pulls on the covers.
He reaches across and switches off the light on his bedside table, and the whole room goes dark. Amelia rolls onto her side and listens to Link shuffle around until he gets comfortable.
“Goodnight, Link. Thanks again for today,” Amelia whispers in his general direction, not really sure of his current position.
“'Night, Amelia.” Amelia is surprised by the vicinity of his voice, closer than she expected.
A couple minutes later and Amelia needs to readjust herself. She gasps when her face collides with something surprisingly hard. She reaches out her hand and quickly realizes she’s touching Link’s chest, now with her hand, and leaning against him with her face pressed up to it.
“Oops,” she mutters, and Link laughs under his breath.
But she doesn’t move away.
And Link takes the initiative of pulling her in closer at her hips, and then keeping his hands there, squeezing at her waist.
“Amelia, I-”
“Link-”
They both pause. And Link squeezes at her waist again, encouraging her to talk first.
She clears her throat. “Link, I-” She pauses again, working herself up to what she wants to say.
Their eyes are adjusting to the light it seems, and Amelia can just make out Link’s eyes, staring intently back at her. Maybe he can sense her worry.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Link offers.
Amelia nods. “Right,” she mumbles quietly.
Their faces are just inches apart. And Amelia knows she wants to kiss him. She wants to have him again. She wants to keep feeling. Keep falling.
Maybe she wants the complications.
Maybe she just wants to kiss him.
So she does. And Link shivers as her lips gently brush his. Amelia feels Link move one of his hands up in response, so that it’s cupping her cheek, while the other remains on her hip.
Link leans forwards and presses his lips against Amelia’s. He opens his mouth to her and Amelia does the same, catching his top lip between hers. It’s slow, and it’s lovely. And this time it’s not impulsive.
But it still feels so right.
They pull apart, smiling through the darkness. And Amelia rolls over so that her back lines up against Link’s front. His arm goes possessively around her waist, pulling her in closer than they’ve ever been.
Amelia can feel her breath start to even out, as well as hear Link’s. Both on the verge of sleep. She just barely whispers into the quiet of the room, “I kind of like sleepovers."
_______
And I want you all to myself
Just keep me caught in your spell
You stop my breathing, but keep my heart breathing
You're bringing me outta hell
Oh, I want you all to myself
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