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cinna-stars · 3 years

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Worth Waiting For

Uhh, okay, this is my first ever fanfic! I might continue it based on the reception, but it was a few thoughts I had in my head that I wanted down on paper.

18+! Some sexual themes and content throughout, however for those experienced smut readers, this is some mild sauce, not very much spice.

I have to credit @cyancherub for making me think about Kiri smelling like cinnamon, the thought hasn’t left my brain.

Kirishima x Fem!reader

A cool breeze whispers through the slightly ajar window of your dorm room. The sun set a little while ago; studying always seems to eat up most of your free time, so this wasn’t exactly a surprise. You lean back in your desk chair, arms up, and stretch your muscles into a big yawn. The sudden contracting muscles have your stomach gurgling. It’s definitely time to take a break, so you close your textbook and stand up from your desk. I wonder if there’s any of those expensive sounding potato chips that Momo bought back from her trip abroad left over? The thought makes you salivate as you begin towards your door. You glance to the mirror in the corner and look at your own reflection: hair pulled into a loose, messy bun, torso swallowed up by an old band shirt Denki gave you (after a conversation initiated by Mineta on what you liked to wear to bed) and bare legs sticking out from the hem. Shouldn’t be a problem, as long as Iida isn’t feeling like a stick in the mud this evening. You open your door and begin creeping your way to the kitchen, hoping to keep noise levels to a minimum as to not disturb anyone who might be sleeping already.

Your ears perk up when you hear conversation coming from the communal area.

“On a scale from 1-10, with ten being the most boring, you have exceeded my expectations and we’ve hit an 11.”

“Shut up dude, it’s an absolute cinematic masterpiece. This is why you don’t have the remote- we’d be watching Care Bears or some shit.”

You approach the seating area to see Bakugou, Kirishima, Sero and Denki. The latter two arguing over what to watch. Bakugou looks like he’s about to blow a fuse, so Kirishima chimes in,

“Hahah, okay guys, why don’t we just watch a horror movie, like Scream or something? It’s an easy watch.”

“Sounds like a good idea as long as Kaminari doesn’t shit himself.” Sero tries to start again, but this is perfect timing for you to interject.

“Sero, I’m sorry, last time I checked, you’re the one who had to ‘leave suddenly’ when we watched Halloween.” A smirk appears on your face from ear to ear as all four boys turn their head your direction. You notice an empty spot next to Kiri and take the opportunity to sit, careful not to flash anyone.

“Hey Y/N don’t be startin’ on me. I have plenty of stories about you that we could share you know? What about the Jaegerbomb incident?” Sero matched your grin, and you feign shock by slapping your hand to your heart.

“You’re breaking my heart, Hanta. Are you the only ones up?”

“Yeah Iida sort of ‘encouraged’ everyone to go to bed early because of the test tomorrow, but” Denki motions in Bakugou’s direction “the angry Pomeranian barked and he gave up with us.” Bakugou snaps his head up from his phone to stare Denki down, but realizing he’s just proving his point, sighs and goes back to scrolling on his phone.

“You okay Baku-babe?” he grunts and flips you off, but you could see the corner of his lip turn up in a weak smile at the affectionate nickname. You knew he meant well, especially after the time you had spent together over the last summer with the guys; he just had a defensive temperament.

“You wanna join us, y/n?” Kiri propositions with a wide grin. His hair was still styled into sharp points from classes today, contrasting with his relaxed clothing choice of a t-shirt, shorts and crocs. He’d also made the addition of a white bandana around his forehead. As usual, he was looking incredible.

After the time spent together as a group over the break, it was great to get to know everyone better. As Sero’s oldest friend, it was always easier to stick by him, which had ended up in your favour by meeting these clowns. You’d slowly got closer to the other three boys too, but there was something about Kirishima you couldn’t shake.

The way you felt when you were left together alone in the same room at a party, or when the other guys ended up flaking so you spent the night together at his place, there was always a feeling of excitement, in more ways than one.

You’ve never been very good at flirting and you just seem to come across as an anxious mess, but Kiri was pretty much just as bad. Meaning neither of you ever made a move. Just awkward giggles and eye contact that lasted just a little bit too long for friends.

“I actually came to steal some of Momo’s fancy chips but yeah, let me get a snack and I’ll be ready. You guys want anything?” You get up off the couch and start your way to the kitchen.

“BEER. BEER. BEER.” Denki chants, making you giggle.

“Oh I’ll come and help you carry them!” Kiri jumps up to follow behind you. You can hear Sero make a ‘wha-PISH’ whipping sound which makes Denki burst out with laughter. In their defense, it was painfully obvious you were both pining for each other.

The kitchen isn’t far but it is out of earshot of the sitting area. You open the cupboard in the corner to find Momo’s chip bag, left sat there completely empty. “Oh come ON” you sigh, picking up the bag and placing it in the trash.

“No chips left? Don’t worry I got you covered.” Kiri stretches to the gap between the top of the cupboard and the ceiling, feeling about with his hand. Your eyes fixate on the skin that is now showing just above the waistband of his shorts. You slowly move your view up the side of his torso, his shirt draping over his body in all the right places, and then to his face, one eye closed and tongue sticking out in concentration. He totally caught you checking him out and now you’re both stood there blushing like idiots. He finally located the bag he was looking for and brings his hands back down, showing off the slightly dusty bag of unopened chips.

“These are your favourites, right?” You stand in bewilderment looking at the bag and nod. “There are many bonuses to being one of the tallest in this dorm” he grins. He even remembered your favourite chips? You can’t help but smile back.

“Thank you so much. Oh let me get the beers!” you walk over to the fridge and open it up, bending over to search for the well hidden cans. You know your ass is on show, and you’re doing everything you can to make it the best view. Arching your back slightly, barely moving your hips from side to side, putting on a full show without being too obvious. “Ah I found them!” You gather them into your arms, the cold metal against your skin sending shivers up your spine and making your nipples protrude from the thin material of your shirt. You stand back up and close the fridge, turning around to a very red in the face Kirishima. You send a sweet smile his way.

“Do you mind taking a couple they’re coldddd” you whine. He composes himself and grabs the first can he can see looking ready to fall. He then proceeds to take another, slowly exposing more of your chest and your hardened nipples. You notice his eyes dart to them and then back on the beers. Are you two really going to carry on like this? Acting like the sexual tension couldn’t be cut with a knife? His wandering eyes now have you blushing and you’re quick to fill the hanging silence. “Should we really be drinking when we have a test tomorrow? I’m no NARC but you know what Denki can get like. He’ll wake up the whole house.”

“It’ll be fine. The only ones that know where the rest of the stash is are you and me. As long as you can keep a secret, we’re Gucci” he winks.

“Did you… really just use the term ‘Gucci’? like completely unironically?” You laugh, nudging his side.

“Shut upppp y/n. Come on let’s get back to them before Bakugo kills Dumb and Dumber.”

“Hoes and bros we come bearing beverages!” You walk in and pass out the three beers you held to the boys, Kiri slowly following with the chips and the last two drinks.

“Wait, who are the hoes?..... oh.” Kaminari has a moment of self-realization and stares at the beer in his hand.

“Denki don’t listen to her, she is the last one to be calling anyone a hoe” Sero hits you with another of what will be many insults of the night.

“Uhhhh says the guys who has a body count tally on his wall. If you ever get with Mina you’re going to need to take a trip to Home Depot to paint over those you know?” You counter.

“Can we watch the damn film already?! Could’ve watched half the fucking thing by now.” Bakugou finally lets off some of the pent up steam. Both you and Denki lift your arms up to your forehead in a salute. “Yes sir!”

Grabbing a blanket, you and Kiri get back into your original seats next to each other on the sofa furthest away from the TV. Sero is on the chair to Kiri’s right, sprawled over it in the most boyish way possible, legs stretched wide and arms hanging over the back. Denki and Bakugo share the sofa to your left, Bakugou reserved to the spot at the very end, finally turning his phone off, while Denki almost mimics Sero’s positioning, but one hand is wrapped around his beer chugging it a bit too fast. Sero presses play as you sit back into the sofa. Kiri’s arm is already draped over the back of the headrest, and it’s only a matter of time until his arm drapes around your shoulder and you lean into him.

You’re about ten minutes into the movie when he starts to move his fingers in little circles on your upper arm. If anyone saw you right now, they’d assume you two were together. The months you’ve both spent flirting and teasing, the light touches and the lingering cuddles. This is becoming unbearable for you, its overwhelming. How haven’t you kissed yet? You weren’t really a ‘hoe’ as Sero said, but you certainly weren’t inexperienced and have never had this trouble before, so what was stopping you now? If things continued like this, you were going to explode.

You look up at Kiri, admiring the contours of his face against the light of the TV. The way his eyebrows slightly furrow, and the way he’s chewing his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration. You inhale the mild aroma of cinnamon, which is a scent that follows him around everywhere. You’re certain he’s aware you are staring, by the light blush reforming on his cheeks, but he allows you to for just a little longer. Right up until Denki yelps aloud from a minor jump scare in the film, causing you to jolt yourself and grab onto Kiri’s shirt.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared?” he asks, voice low and husky. “Don’t worry, I got you.” He lifts his free arm and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I-I wasn’t scared. Denki made me jump” you pout.

“Aww, even worse haha” he chuckles, the vibrations flow through your body, straight to your core, making you instantly wet. If he ever really knew the affect he had, you might just die from embarrassment. You release his shirt and return your head to his shoulder; however, his hand has maneuvered itself away from your upper arm and is now placed on your hip. The large amount of warmth is slowly followed by a very light squeeze of reassurance, and you’ve never been more aware that you aren’t wearing any shorts.

His breathing has now quickened, and his hand feels like it might even be shaking a little bit. He was so nervous, which makes him even more endearing. A wave of adrenaline rushed through you as you lift your hand to rest atop of his, to give him the assurance that it is absolutely okay to have his hand there.

About three quarters of the way into the film, all drinks have been consumed, chips have been eaten, Sero pauses and gets up for a pee break. “Couldn’t your bladder have waited? There isn’t that much longer left Se-bro” Kiri teases

“Ei, I don’t think I know anyone who could wait as long as you have” he leans down and darts his eyes between the two of you. You glare with intent to BURN. You thought too long for a comeback and unfortunately, he’s already happily waltzing off to the bathroom.

Kiri turns to you with a smile and lowers his voice. “Did nobody tell tape face that anything worth having is worth waiting for?” and you swear in that moment an entire flutter of butterflies were trying to escape you. That’s the most direct he’s ever been and it’s not something easy to ignore.

“I know you both have hidden the beer and I take personal offense.” Denki bellows. “I bet it’s on top of the cupboard where Kiri keeps all the good stuff” and he gets up and skips off to the kitchen, fully convinced he’s going to find what he’s looking for.

“I’m going to bed. Gotta be up early and you extras are pissing me off.” Bakugou gets up and stretches. “Love you, Bakubro! Mwah!” both you and Kiri heckle him with air kisses and you are met with yet another middle finger as he strolls off to his dorm room, that small smirk still present.

There’s that feeling coming back again. The way you feel whenever you’re alone with Kirishima. But this is the most compromised you’ve been: you’re basically half naked, he’s got his hand on your hip and he just dropped an absolute bomb of a line thanks to Sero. You can’t help yourself and before you truly think it through,

“Ei, I think I’m done waiting.” You lift your head off his shoulder, faces only a few inches apart. You can feel both your heart rates quicken in sync and your bodies getting hotter. He raises his hand and takes your chin in his hand, urging your lips forward onto his. The anticipated contact sends electricity through your body and the kiss deepens quickly, his tongue licks your lower lip asking for entrance and you accept immediately, releasing a soft moan from the motion.

You twist your body round so that you’re straddling his thigh, his wandering hand had slipped under the fabric of your shirt in the same place, playing with the fabric of your underwear. Your hands find their way to the back of his head, pushing him further into your mouth. You both are getting sloppy as lust takes over and you find your hips involuntarily grinding on his thigh. He breaks away from the kiss, pulling at your lower lip and working his way down your jaw to your neck, nipping and sucking lightly, causing louder moans to escape you.

“So- fucking long- I’ve waited- to touch you like this” he groans out between kisses and bites, sure to leave a mark. “Sound so pretty”

“Ah- me too, I- fuck” the stimulation from his voice and touch is almost overwhelming, but clarity sets in quicker than you’d like it too. “Sero will- ah- be back any second” and you release your grip on his hair. He’s really trying to pout at you, but he can’t help let his goofy smile beam through. You stare at each other for a few seconds, both absolutely beaming with happiness. He lets out an almighty sigh,

“Uggggh, you’re right. Hey, what are you doing after this?” he asks as you settle back down next to him, making you chuckle.

“Well I was planning on going back to my dorm and sleeping. Unless you have a better offer?” you beam.

“Well…” his grin gets wider, “you know there’s a sequel to Scream, yknow? Think you might wanna… what’s it called..”

“Scream 2.”

“I can make you scream, too. Sure” and you erupt into laughter together, from his disgustingly awful pun.

Sero approaches from the corridor “Well you two sure can clear a room.”

“I’d blame it on Kiri’s terrible puns, but Bakubabe went to bed and Electabuzz is currently trying to find the rest of the beer but- oh there you are” Denki walks in, with a pout on his face, and flops back on the couch in disappointment.

“Denks, how about we throw a little party tomorrow after the test. We’ll let you in on where the secret stash is, too.” You offer, his expression immediately switching to that of delight.

Even though there was only a half hour left of the movie, it felt like hours until the end credits started rolling. Denki had managed to fall asleep and was snoring at full velocity, and the only person left paying full attention was Sero, as you couldn’t stop your brain from wandering from anticipation.

He shut the TV off and you tasked yourself with waking up Denki while Kiri cleaned up the empty beer bottles.

“Kami, come on sweetie, you need to go to bed.” You nudge him slightly causing him to stir. Sero walks over, and gives him a hard slap on the ass

‘WAKE UP ASSHOLE! Iida will kill you if you sleep on the couch”

“…I- sleep- your mom-..” he sits up and rubs his eyes

“Don’t be so rough Sero, he’s so sleepy look at hiiiimm” You say, admiring how cute he looked in such tired state. Kaminari finally gets up and all four of you head to the lift… shit.

You are Denki are on the 3rd floor, Kiri is on the 4th and Sero is on the 5th… how are you going to get to Kiri’s room without being suspicious?

A/N: Thank you if you read this in full! Please let me know what you think and if you’d be wanting to read the next part (which would include a lot more spice!)

#kirishima smut #kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x you #kirishima icons #kirishima imagine #kirishima x reader #kirishima fluff #mha x reader #mha smut #kirishima x y/n #kiribaku #denki kaminari #hanta sero

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writemekpop · 3 years

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New Rules | Lay Zhang

Pairing: Lay Zhang x Reader

Summary: Vicious, strict and sexy... your dance instructor Lay is hiding a secret.

Genre: Suggestive, Enemies to Lovers

Word Count: 1.4k

Gif: @yixing-zhang

“Again! And for god’s sake, try and look like you mean it!”

Your dance instructor Lay’s voice rings through the sweaty studio. Everyone else in the academy went home hours back. Your class struggles on into the night.

Sweat drips down the flexed muscles of Lay’s neck, disappearing into his coal black tracksuit. His ochre eyes, rough and silky all at once, hide under a low bucket hat.

You know his full, forbidden lips better than your own name.

“Hey, Y/n! Stop slacking. You’re still lagging on the turns.”

Your heart races, but not from the exercise.

Your muscles are crying out for respite, but you turn again and again. It’s useless. The harder you try, the weaker you seem to get. After fifteen minutes, you’re the only one in the class who can’t do it.

“Y/n, get up. Stop that.” Lay’s voice is like thunder. You hate how delicious your name sounds in his mouth.

You stop spinning, and stagger to the wall.

“I know you think you’re working hard, but you’re not. You are the worst in the class, and unless you get your act together very soon, you won’t be in it much longer.”

You don’t dare to look up. A lump stretches your throat, and you beg for the tears to hold.

“Are you serious about being a dancer?”

“Y-yes,” you whisper.

“Well, at this rate, you won’t make it. You hear me? You’ll walk, head hanging, out of these doors, scrape a place in a second-rate college, and spend the rest of your life watching your classmates on Inkigayo.”

His words are shards of glass, slicing you into ribbons. You know Lay’s watching you, scanning for any signs of weakness. His eyes send heat waves rippling off your skin.

“That’s all. Class dismissed.” Lay turns away, and everyone files silently out.

You choke down a sob.

----

That night, you return to the studio. Lay’s words throb in your ears, egging you on.

As you spin around and around, your turns get sloppier and wilder. Your eyes prickle, but you keep pushing yourself, keep forcing your limbs to move.

Suddenly, your ankle collapses under you. A red spike shoots up your leg, and you land hard on the floorboards.

You silence your cry.

Tears streak down your face, and you swipe them away with a sleeve. You try to pull yourself to the wall, but it’s so painful that your vision sparks white.

As you wrap your arms around your body, you let a sole whimper escape your lips.

That was your biggest mistake.

Because all of a sudden, you hear footsteps approaching the door. Cursing, you pull yourself up to standing on a ballet barre, trying not to yelp from the pain.

It’s Lay. For the first time ever, his raven-black dance uniform is gone, replaced with an open white shirt and jeans. His carved cream chest is so distracting, you almost forget that he hates you.

“What are you still doing here, Y/n? Class ended three hours ago. Get to bed!” Your lips start to quiver. The pain is bad enough. You don’t need his contempt to make it worse.

“Yes sir, I’m just packing up.” You try to step towards your bag, but fire rips up your leg. A squeak escapes your lips.

“Wait, are you hurt?”

All of a sudden, the distance between you vanishes. Strong arms are lifting you into a chair before you have the chance to protest, heat rolling off Lay’s skin and onto yours.

Your cheek is pressed against smooth muscle. The nakedness of it sends shivers through you. “You’ve sprained your ankle! Sit right there.”

Once you’re seated, Lay fetches a roll of white gauze and kneels in front of you. The thumping of your heart turns silence into cacophony. Free from its hat, you notice Lay’s hair for the first time, dishevelled curls of ebony.

You realise what’s changed. He looks… human.

“Why are you helping me? Y-you hate me.” The question leaps from your lips, uncalled for.

“I don’t hate you,” Lay murmurs, hands gently wrapping your ankle with gauze. His tenderness leaves you breathless. “I’m just harsh on you because…”

Lay’s hands drop to the ground, and he leans on them like he might collapse. You might collapse.

“Can I be honest with you?” Oaky eyes flick up to meet yours. You just nod, afraid to speak in case he changes his mind.

“I haven’t been… teaching long, and-“ He sighs. “I’m worried that if I’m not… strict, no one will take me seriously.” He looks up, and for the first time ever, he’s wearing away at his lip.

“I’m not funny, or charming… or someone you can like. I’m just someone you can fear. So that’s why I’m mean to you.”

“There.” Lay looks to the side, flashing you a wry smile. “It’s out. God, I feel like a child to say this, but- could you keep this to yourself?”

Shivers ripple down your body. You swear to keep his secret.

Lay grins, and deep dimples spring up in his smooth cheeks. You can’t believe you didn’t know they were there. “I can’t believe you thought I hated you, Y/n! It’s the opposite…you’ve got what it takes. And don’t let an idiot like me tell you don’t.”

Flutters burst in your stomach. Lay kneeling, you sitting, you sink into a breathless silence. You cling to his serious gaze, trying to peer into the man beneath the thick chocolate lashes.

Then, he lifts his hand to wipe away a dry tear, and you narrowly avoid the urge to kiss his hand. Your body throbs with your pulse.

“You were crying.” Your conversation has broken down into fragments, swirling in the silent sea of the unsaid.

You don’t answer him, eyes glued to Lay’s slightly parted lips.

You lean in closer, and he doesn’t move away. This is the moment you’ve been dreaming of. Your honey-gaze slips to his mouth. Then, you press your lips against his, and they’re warm and oh-so-soft and-

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Lay springs back, clamping his hand to his mouth as if it isn’t his.

“I-I- uh..” The back of your neck burns, and your heart pounds faster than ever. “I thought you…uh-“ Your stomach twists into a tight ball, sinking like a weight inside you.

Lay’s blank expression is like a punch to the throat. You squint at him through screwed eyes, praying for a quick exit.

Then, a frown breaks through the fog on Lay’s face. He cocks his head to the side, sizing you up. “What were you thinking?”

Your shoulders drop; you can’t be bothered to make up a lie. Taking a deep breath, you decide to go for the truth.

“I know you see me as yourself as my instructor, and me as your student. But I-I see you as a man… and me as a woman. Is that so wrong?”

There’s a silence so sharp it could break glass.

The shadow of a smile lifts Lay’s lip as he speaks. “That’s not wrong.”

And then, he leans forward once more, and you feel like you’re in a slow-motion movie. You watch Lay’s tongue flick over his lips, leaving them plump and glistening.

This time, he’s the one whose midnight eyes trail down to your mouth, but slowly, as if he’s tasting your skin with his eyes. When his firm hand grasps your thigh, you feel him shaking.

That gives you the confidence to close the gap between you. You pull Lay’s head towards you, and kiss him on the mouth. It’s a searching kiss. A kiss that needs to be returned.

He kisses you back. Softly. Safely. Then impatiently.

His fingers trail up the fabric of your T-shirt. The cold mirror pushes up against your back. You gasp at his taste. You can hear him gasping too.

You imagine how you feel to him, tear-salted. Your wayward hand feels cream muscle you’d only dreamt of feeling.

The fumble, the awkwardness of learning something unknown… that only makes it sweeter.

When you pull back, you realise you now know Lay intimately, but at the same time, you barely know him at all.

Lay makes as if to speak, but you stop him with a finger.

Sometimes, the best things can’t be expressed in words.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 years

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Day 2: Relationships / Matching

*Introducing the Perfect Pair Collection, featuring asymmetrical designs that match.* The oxymoron was not lost on her.

Time to switch to a completely different art style on day 2– 😣 Today’s prompt features the Pomefiore trio!

A harsh tug on his sleeve drew Jade to a halt. He glanced at Miss Raven, who clung to his side, pointing to a nearby shop window with her free hand. Jade followed her finger to what was on display—small boxes and racks, each displaying a glittering piece of jewelry.

“Oya, I do not believe we have baubles on the grocery list,” he tutted, teasingly wagging a finger. “To think that your interest would be so easily captured by mere shiny objects, Miss Raven... Corvids truly are simple-minded creatures. Perhaps you have more in common with the headmaster than I had initially thought.”

“I’m allowed to appreciate beauty, aren’t I?” Raven retorted, casting Jade a sideways glare. “Besides, you wear jewelry.”

“Ah, this?” He gently tapped at the earring dangling from his left earlobe. Three diamond-shaped scales cast a silvery-blue glow upon his skin. “I wouldn’t call it a piece of jewelry so much as a battle trophy.”

At this, Raven wrenched her face away from the glass display to stare at him. “Please don’t tell me you did something unsavory to get your hands on it.”

“You have such strange ideas, Miss Raven.” Jade chuckled as he slicked back his black stripe of hair behind his accessory-clad ear. “Fufu. There is nothing unsavory about victors claiming a prize for their triumph, correct? That is only the natural order of things.”

… I feel sorry for whoever the twins beat up.

She shook her head and returned her gaze to the display window--to the selection of earrings that were laid out upon velvet cloth. Introducing the Perfect Pair Collection, read a sign, featuring asymmetrical designs that match. (The oxymoron was not lost on her.)

Surrounding the sign were various pairs, as promised: a sun and a moon, a jar of jelly and another of peanut butter, a hand and a heart… but Raven felt herself drawn to earrings in the shape of a lock and a key. How peculiar that the head of the key curved into a heart and that its teeth were ribbed with pearls, and how slim yet stylish the lock was.

“My, are you interested in that pair? What an interesting choice.”

“N-No! I’m just admiring them,” Raven insisted. “You don’t normally see designs like this… I wonder how the jeweler was able to make objects so clunky and heavy into something wearable.”

“That is a fair point. The craftsmanship is indeed exquisite.” Jade’s sharp eyes carefully traced the shape of Raven’s ears--pointed, like the headmaster’s. “How unfortunate it is that you lack the piercings to wear them.”

Raven’s hands instinctively flew to her earlobes, as though trying to shield them from him. “I told you, I’m not interested in buying--”

“Why, whoever said anything about you purchasing the earrings? I was keen to pick up a new pair for myself.” Jade provided a smile and a bow. “Now then, if you would excuse me for one moment…”

Before Raven could protest, he had already vanished inside the jewelry store, leaving her stranded on the street with a list of groceries to procure.

“... Fantastic.”

The bird sighed into her palms. From past experience, she knew that it would not be a wise idea to pursue Jade and attempt to drag him away. For as skilled as Raven was at weaving words, she often found that Jade’s natural charisma, paired with his silver tongue, often gave him the advantage in disagreements.

Best to just leave it for now.

Still, she warily eyed him through the store window as he conversed with a clerk. A few vague hand gestures, a practiced smile, a polite and controlled laugh. All motions Raven had familiarized herself with.

Entranced with her eel watching, Raven didn’t register the trio approaching her until one of the group called out to her.

“Mon petit oiseau! What a coincidence it is to be running into you today.”

“Oh!” She startled at the huntsman’s voice. “Rook…!! And… Vil-senpai and Epel-san. Hello…!”

Acutely aware of Vil’s sternness, Raven quickly lowered her head in deference. This earned a slight curl of the lips from him.

He was dressed as fashionably as ever--a white, frilly top with a V-neck, paired with sunglasses propped in his hair, sleek leggings, and glove boots. Several necklaces adorned Vil’s long, milky neck, and his face was expertly painted with a sheer wash of shimmering, nude makeup.

“Good day to you, Shetland potato,” Vil replied coolly. He passed a glance to Epel, who stood behind him, struggling to carry several rolls of fabric.

“G-Good day,” Epel managed, tugging at his collar. It appeared as though Vil had dressed him, too--for he was dressed in a lacey lilac blouse, and tied off with a black bow. Instead of leggings, Epel wore puffy shorts and striped socks.

“Such a treat it is to see you out of the attic and venturing out into the world!” Rook laughed, brushing back a wisp of his golden hair. He was without his trademark feathered hat, and had traded his dormitory robes for a button-down shirt--the sleeves rolled up and a few buttons undone, army green khakis, and boating shoes.

Compared to the Pomefiore trio, Raven looked like a spaghetti stain on a square of white fabric. She nervously dusted off her skirt, hoping that Vil wouldn’t harp on how she was wearing the same outfit yet again.

“What brings you to town?” Rook inquired, dropping the bags he had been carrying and excitedly grasping Raven’s hands instead.

“Just… groceries. Uncle is away for a conference, so I am to fend for myself in his absence,” she mumbled, gingerly prying her hands away. “Well… sort of. Jade has been mother henning me for the past few days.”

“Monsieur Mastermind? Ohoh. What a dynamic duo! Two halves of the same coin, trading bitter blows with their words… forever locked in verbal combat!”

“I… I guess?”

“I trust that he is looking after you well?” Rook’s smile widened. “If not... perhaps we should kidnap you away and stow you in Pomefiore until the headmaster’s return!”

“Absolutely not,” Vil snapped. “We have our hands far too full with play preparations to be hosting the Shetland potato--or anyone else, for that matter.”

… H-He didn’t object to Rook kidnapping people. Is that a normal thing for Rook to do? Should I be concerned? She shoved her question down to change the subject to something more comfortable. “Erm… Is that what the supplies are for?”

“Oui! Roi du Poison’s club is staging a performance in the winter. These materials are to make costumes.” The huntsman’s eyes suddenly lit up with a mischievous sparkle. “Fufu. Mon roi has thrown his heart and soul into direction. It is a treat to behold!”

“Congratulations, senpai.”

“Don’t congratulate me yet,” Vil commanded, holding up a hand. “We are still in the throes of auditions. Wait until you have witnessed the show for yourself before you cheer for it.”

“Oh, well… I hope you find suitable actors, then.”

Vil’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “Hm. Now that you mention it… Shetland potato!”

Raven jumped when he barked at her. “Y-Yes?! Look, I know I’ve been wearing the same outfit every time you see me, it’s just that Uncle fills my closet with nothing but duplicate clothes…!!”

“I think you would be fitting for one of the roles in my play,” Vil declared. “Report to Pomefiore at 8 am sharp tomorrow if you are interested in auditioning.”

“Huh?! Me, in one of your… I don’t think I’m…”

“Are you doubting my eyes?” His glare sharpened, turning into a pointed dagger.

“N-No, sir…”

“Good. Then I hope to see you then.” Vil spun around on his heel and waved a hand. “Rook! Epel! We’re going. Don’t dawdle, now.”

“Yes, Vil-senpai. I-I’m coming!”

Epel dashed after his Dorm Leader, Rook following suit--but not before he gave Raven one last glance over his shoulder, accompanied by a wave. Au revoir, he mouthed, the twinkle never parting from his emerald eyes.

She waved back absentmindedly, brought back from her daze only by the ringing of the jewelry store door swinging open again.

Jade emerged from within, bearing a small baby blue box with a white silk bow. “I have returned, Miss Raven. Fufu. I trust that you were not too lonely without me?”

She hastily hid her hands behind her back. “Of course not. You were only gone for a few minutes…!”

“So I was.” Jade’s eyes darted to the Pomefiore trio, whose figures were vanishing over the horizon. “Had I been absent a few moments longer, perhaps I would have had to wrangle you from the hands of an nosy huntsman.”

“As though forcing your way in and kidnapping me back would be any better!”

Jade stifled a laugh.

“In any case, I have procured the earrings I had my heart set on.” With deft fingers, he slid off the top, revealing a glittering lock and key tucked away inside. Jade plucked up the key by the head. “Miss Raven, do lend me your ear.”

“Those are yours…!”

“Correct--and therefore, I may do with these as I please.” He smiled pleasantly. “And I choose to lend you one to wear.”

“It’s not that simple! Have you forgotten already? I can’t wear it--don’t have piercings,” she protested. “You’re not going to jab it through my earlobes, are you?!”

“I will do no such thing.” Jade’s voice remained tranquil as he seized the raven by her chin and jerked her head to one side, yielding a clear opening for him to plant the earring. She squawked in surprise, flailing against him--but his grip was too strong, and she, too weak.

He sighed, continuing to speak as though he were describing the nice weather. “I assure you, this will not hurt one bit, fufufu. Now be a dear and hold still.”

It happened in an instant, despite the bird’s struggles. A slight pinch upon her earlobe, the kiss of the cool metal key on her skin, and it was over.

Jade straightened with a satisfied smirk, and patted Raven on the cheek. “There we are.”

“Eh? What? How did…” She cautiously poked at the earring. “There wasn’t a needle…?”

“I requested that the jeweler convert the key earring into a clip-on.”

“Wha…?! You… You tricked me again?!” Her face flared with a mixture of embarrassment and rage. “But why even bother with such a thing?”

“I wished to see how it would look on you. As I suspected, it is lovely on you.”

Raven gritted her teeth, praying that it would somehow help hide her flusteredness. “... And what do you plan to do with the lock earring? You didn’t also have that one converted, did you?”

“Certainly not.” Jade toyed with the lock in question, rolling it between his index finger and thumb. “I was thinking to wear it myself in lieu of my usual sturgeon scale earring, so that we may match.”

“Match?” Raven scoffed through her blush. “I didn’t know you cared so much about your accessories while grocery shopping.”

“I do not,” he confessed with a coy grin. “However, I would be remiss to pass up an opportunity to show to the world what a perfect pair we make.”

“You what--” Raven was interrupted by Jade grasping one of her hands and placing the lock earring into it.

“If you would do the honors,” he murmured, tilting his head to one side--and once more, slicking his black hair back. His tone was low and inviting, yet somehow she could hear him well and clear over the townspeople that bustled around them.

The scales suspended on his earring swung back and forth in a slow motion. Click, clack, against one another, in an almost hypnotic fashion.

His single, golden eye stared right at her. Waiting, pleading.

Raven swallowed hard. With trembling hands, she unfastened the sturgeon scale earring from his earlobe and secured the lock earring in its place. As soon as the deed was done, she rushed to wipe her hands off on her skirt.

Eel cooties, eel cooties, eel cooties…!!

“Thank you for your assistance, Miss Raven.”

“You’re… you’re welcome.” She pursed her lips, avoiding his eyes--but her traitorous gaze soon found itself lingering on the lock. “That suits you, in a way--like a lock, you guard many secrets, and it’s impossible to get you to open up.”

“Fufu. I am flattered to hear such kind words. If I may return the compliment, that key earring fits you like a glove.”

“Right. Because Uncle is adorned in keys, it would make sense for the motif to carry over to his relatives.”

“No, no, you misunderstand.” Jade held a finger to his lips, a twinkle of conspiracy in his golden eyes. “Come closer… and I shall impart one of my closely guarded secrets to you.”

“This isn’t another one of your tricks, is it?” she asked, her eyes forming suspicious slivers--but despite her curt words, the bird’s body instinctively leaned into his. She cursed her curiosity.

Jade chuckled and bent down, allowing his lips to hover by her ear. Time seemed to slow, but her heartbeat quickened. Face, hot--extremities, cold. Opposites, yet matching. One, unable to exist without the other.

And, at last, his answer came.

“It suits you well--for you hold the key to my heart, Miss Raven.”

#twst #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc week #Jade Leech #Vil Schoenheit #Raven Crowley #Epel Felmier #Rook Hunt #twst oc #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #my art

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apocalypseornaw · 3 years

Text

Open My Eyes

Apocalyptic AU.

Dean gets increasingly jealous of your bond with Gadreel and things come to a head after a misunderstanding on a run

Dean had known you for years. Long before the dead started to rise and the world as it was previously known came crashing down. He knew you inside and out, you were one of his best friends. Maybe that was why it was bothering him so deeply to see you get closer with someone who was fairly new to your group. Gadreel had come in with the Banes twins. They’d gone through Bobby’s usual line of questions without missing a beat and had fit in smoothly enough with everyone else. That had been nearly six months ago which was a lifetime nowadays.

He tried to get you out of his head as he walked across the field that stretched between the outer fence and inner fence of the compound all of you now called home. It’d started life as a high school but with some hard work and a lot of blood, sweat and tears it was now a suitable place to survive the new world. Unfortunately before he could reach the sanctuary of the building where Bobby, Sam and Jody were waiting to talk about the new run that needed to happen he heard the all too familiar sound of your laugh.

He turned and found a small smile working its way onto his face when he saw you walking with Alicia and Max. You had your arm around Alicia’s shoulder and was laughing at something Max had said. He started to call your name but before he could he heard it called from a different direction and felt his mood immediately sour when you pulled your arm from Alicia to greet Gadreel as he made it to the three of you. He watched you pull the other man down to whisper something in his ear and felt anger flick at his mind. Especially when Gadreel laughed then whispered something back to you. Dean spun on his heel, he didn’t need to see any more.

------

The door to the meeting room slammed open but luckily for the three people sitting around the table it took a lot more than that to rattle their nerves. Bobby barely glanced up from the map “Nice of you to join us Dean now how about leaving the damn door on the hinges?”

Sam watched his brother drag a chair out and flop down into it. He wanted to ask what was wrong but knew that they needed to get this meeting through and that Dean was prone to shut down if asked directly what was wrong. He always did better with letting it slip through cursing whatever had soured his mood.

“From what we can figure there’s a couple veterinarian clinics along the route as well and considering the fact that people medicine isn’t actually any different than animal medicine they may have supplies there and it wouldn’t hurt to check” Jody spoke tapping a few different places on the map. Bobby nodded then cut his eyes at Dean “You and Sam up to taking a team and checking it out? We need the supplies to winterize this place once and for all, not to mention having extra medical supplies on hand wouldn’t hurt”

“Yeah we can handle it Bobby” Dean promised although it was apparent his mind was still not focused on the meeting. “All in all it’ll probably take about a week or so considering the ground you’ll have to cover so I’d pick a good team. Take Y/N with you too she hangs out with Alex and Kaia enough she can spot anything that has medicinal usage from a mile away” Jody added with a wink to Bobby before pushing away from the table to head out. She’d be gathering supplies for whatever team was picked and wanted to get it together.

Bobby watched her leave then turned back to his surrogate sons. “So I was thinking Y/N, Alicia, Max, Gadreel and Charlie would be a decent team to take. Ain’t like any of those girls can’t handle their own in a fight. Max can get through any tight spot and Gadreel is strong as a horse” Dean scoffed at that which earned him a look from Bobby “You got an issue with any of that son?”

Dean shook his head “Nope” then pushed his chair back “I’m going to gather my gear, you two can make sure everyone is up to the run” with that he walked out leaving Bobby to throw a questioning look at Sam who simply shrugged “I don’t really know what that’s about either” “Make sure he keeps a clear head. There’s a lot of dangers out there and not just the biters got it?” Sam nodded “Yes sir”

------

You were helping Jody to gather supplies for the upcoming run after she’d come out of the meeting with Bobby, Dean and Sam. “Do you know anything that could be bothering Dean?” She asked, holding out a pack of dried meat. You took it and shook your head “Not that I know of but I could always just ask him?”

She shrugged “No he’ll tell you or Sam if whatever it is gets to bothering him too much” You would hope so anyways. You always went to Dean if anything was bothering you. He’d offer advice if that’s what you were after or simply offer comfort or a place to vent. “I’m gonna grab my jacket and go bag from my room then I’ll meet everyone by the front gate” she nodded to let you know she’d heard you so you turned to head towards the living quarters.

The halls that had been transformed to be mini dorm rooms were actually quite comfortable considering. You considered yourself lucky that you’d been close with a lot of your group before that fateful day that a widespread virus was alerted in the news. You could still remember Sam’s phone call to you “Pack just what you need. Dean will be pulling up at your place any time”

You’d hastily thrown clothes and the contents of your medicine cabinet in a bag. Before you were through grabbing what you deemed necessary you heard a heavy knock on your door followed by Dean’s voice “Come on sweetheart! We gotta go!” When you opened the door your eyes widened when Dean shoved a gun into your hand. “Dean, what’s going on?” you asked and he took a deep breath “Long story short? The dead are rising. True,blue zombies. We gotta go cause shit is hitting the fan fast”

You gripped the gun noticing the one in his own hand and nodded “Lead the way Winchester. You know I trust you”

------

You shook yourself out of thoughts of the past. You needed to focus on this run completely. You grabbed your go bag from the floor checking what ammo you had and slipping a machete at your side. You glanced at your bat leaned next to the bed but decided against it. It was better the few times you’d go out solo or with just one other person. From what Jody had said there was a full team going after the winterizing supplies.

You slipped your jacket on then slid the strap of your bag across your chest. You walked back towards the doors that led outside. The electricity that the compound ran off of came from a mixture of solar panels and generators. The good part? Bobby knew enough to be able to brew enough corn liquor that the generators had fuel for years.

The only downside was that meant the few vehicles you had could only be used in moderation. Short runs horses were used for but considering this one would take about a week and would be gathering supplies for all the black panel van that was used for such runs was parked by the front gate awaiting those going.

You walked towards the gate and smiled when you spotted Dean standing with Bobby and Sam at the front of the van. They were clearly going over the mapped out areas one more time but you knew neither of them would mind you inserting yourself into the conversation. Since Dean’s back was to you and Sam noticed you first so you raised one finger to your lips. He quickly turned his attention back to the conversation so you wouldn’t be noticed.

You quietly took a few steps forward and slid your arms around Dean’s waist and leaned your head on his shoulder even if that meant you had to stand on your tip toes and still barely reach “So where are we going?” you could see the corners of his mouth tick up and knew he was fighting a smile “We’re going to a few different places sweetheart. You wanna hang off me like a spider monkey or you want to actually look at the map?” you feigned a pout “Why can’t I hang off you like a spider monkey and look at the map?” he rolled his eyes with a laugh “Get down”

You pulled your head down from his shoulder and moved your arms from around his waist to step slightly in front of him and look at the map Bobby had laid across the hood. Sam went over the stops with you, highlighting the couple where you’d be taking the lead since you knew more about what was needed for medicinal purposes. “Sounds good to me. Who’s the rest of the crew?” you could’ve sworn you saw a look be passed among the three of them before Bobby said “Alicia, Charlie, Max and Gadreel” you nodded approvingly at the choices “All good picks”

You heard a sharp whistle and turned to see Charlie walking towards the four of you trailed by the rest of the crew. “What’s up bitches? We ready to ride?” “Of course dear” You replied meeting her halfway.

------

Dean watched as you greeted the rest of the crew going on the run. Charlie was like a sister to him, Alicia and Max were cool but spending the next week in close quarters with you and Gadreel? Yeah he may look for some biters just to have an excuse to kill something.

“Alright! Everyone load up!” he barked out and you cut your eyes up at him “Depends, can I have shotgun for the first few miles at least?” He barely glanced at Gadreel before saying “Of course sweetheart” . You shot him a wink then walked around to the passenger side of the van along with everyone else who was climbing into the back.

Sam didn’t miss the look Dean threw at Gadreel or the way his brother had bristled anytime over the last few weeks when he’d see you with the other man. Was that what the attitude was about before the meeting? Was Dean jealous? He chose not to say anything for now and instead simply walked around to sit next to Gadreel on the middle seat since Charlie had taken up the backseat along with the twins.

------

Your destination was two states over. It was a contraction warehouse that had fallen early. Bobby kept an eye on the amount of biters in it versus the prospects of anyone actually getting inside.

Considering the zombies had lightened up in that area and everything needed to finish winterizing the compound and green houses could be found there it was worth the risk to go. That way you'd have running water and fresh food no matter how severe the coming winter got.

You were curled up with your feet under you watching the road whip by as Dean drove. You had a shoebox full of cassette tapes in your lap looking over them to see if any peaked your interest. You plucked one out of the box and stuck it into the player simply to see Dean's reaction when it started playing.

When the first few notes of It's My Life started playing he cut his eyes at you "Bon Jovi really?" You grinned "Hey Bon Jovi rocks...on occasion" then started singing along and couldn't help but laugh when Sam, Charlie and Max joined in.

No matter the music or the company Dean couldn't fight the smile that worked its way onto his face. You had shifted to have your legs out in front of you and were now drumming on the dash along with the music and had everyone in the van either singing or laughing along. Why had he never realized how amazing you were before? Why had it literally taken an apocalypse to open his eyes?

He watched you turn in your seat and bump Gadreel's leg as You Give Love a Bad Name started and felt that same flicker of anger. Maybe he'd waited too long to see what had been in front of him for years, maybe Gadreel had realized it a lot sooner.

The first day on the road was pretty uneventful. There were no stops to be made marked on the map so it was filled with just driving besides stopping for everyone to find a tree.

Considering the route was figured to be about three days there and three back (giving plenty of leadway for any issues that might arise) you asked Dean once the sun started going down if he was ready to pull over somewhere for the night or if he wanted you or Sam to take over driving.

He glanced in the mirror at Sam "What do you say Sammy? Wanna take the wheel for a while?" "Sure" Sam agreed so Dean stopped dead in the center of the road..not like there was a lot of traffic.

"Well I'm gonna climb in the back and get a little sleep" you announced after realizing Charlie, Max and Alicia were all knocked out. "Yeah Gadreel you wanna hop up here man? I'm pretty wiped too" Dean suggested and Gadreel replied "Sure. I already caught my few hours"

Gadreel held the side door open so you slid under his arm with a smile "Thanks '' he smiled in return. When Dean walked around he grabbed the door "I got it. Thanks" Gadreel simply nodded and climbed into the passenger seat.

You were already slid in next to the window when Dean climbed in next to you. You waited until Sam had started driving to turn so you could curl up next to Dean. He looked down at you with a raised eyebrow "What are you doing?" You grinned "Sleeping. Now hush and be a good pillow" instead of pulling away like you half expected he raised his arm slightly to pull you closer to him "I'll be a good pillow if you be a good pillow" you smiled when you felt him lean his head over on you and whispered "Deal"

"Look alive. This is the first of two vet clinics we gotta hit on this trip" Dean spoke as he pulled the van to a stop and glanced around. "Seven people so I'm thinking three teams of two and leave one person behind the wheel in case we need a fast exit?" You suggested and he winked at you "Just what I was thinking"

You slid your gun into the holster on your thigh but grabbed the machete from your floorboard as first line of defense. Guns were loud and the last thing you wanted was a herd of amped up zombies descending on the group before you could even go through the clinic. You turned and looked at everyone then nodded to yourself “Ok so Charlie you up for setting this one out?” She shrugged “Sure but I get to help clear the next one”

You shot her a smile then said “Ok Max and Alicia, Dean and Sam then Gadreel you’re with me..everyone good with that?” Everyone nodded but Dean who just walked to the back of the van to grab the canvas bags out without so much as a look in your direction. You raised an eyebrow to Sam who shrugged so you followed behind Dean keeping an eye out to make sure all of the commotion hadn’t attracted any undue attention.

You stood slightly behind him hearing him mumble to himself before he turned around and realized you were standing there “Son of a bitch Y/N. Make some noise sweetheart, the point is to not blend in with the dead” you grinned playfully “Is that your way of asking me to bite you?” he rolled his eyes but you could see just the barest hint of a smirk trying to work its way onto his face “Just be careful in there. Sure you trust him to have your back?”

You cut your eyes over to your group where they were all watching the woods line that bordered the back parking lot of the clinic “Yeah, I’ll be ok. Not gonna lie I don’t think I’ll ever trust anyone to have my back the way I trust you or well Sam but Gadreel has proved he’s good in a tight spot”

He nodded and for a second you thought he was going to say something else but he simply held out one of the bags “Remember get in, get out” you took the bag with a small smile “Aye aye” then walked back over to the group.

Dean watched you walk over to Gadreel. You said you’d never trust anyone the way you trusted him..that meant a lot didn’t it? He shook his head then walked over himself to pass Max then Sam a bag before nodding at Charlie “We’ll be out in five”

------

The clinic had three entrances. One to the side of the building, one to the back and one to the front. You and Gadreel took the back entrance, the twins took the side leaving the front to Sam and Dean.

You touched the handle of the door then looked at Gadreel “You want me to pull and you be ready or vice versa?” “Ladies choice” he replied with a laugh. You nodded then motioned to the door “In that case you pull and I’ll be ready”

He got into position but waited until you gave him a nod to open the door. You hoisted your machete but no noise came. You leaned inside and stomped your foot a few times “Hello? Anyone home?” You cut your eyes at him and he shrugged. “Maybe no one ended up here?” “We can only hope” you replied before walking further inside.

You could hear the rest of your crew checking but it appeared the clinic was well and truly empty. You picked a room and waved to Gadreel to follow you. The moment you stepped into the room you pulled your flashlight out of the pocket of your jacket and saw that from the looks of it you’d picked the operating room.

You motioned to the wall of shelves in front of you “I hate to ask but do you think you can give me a lift to the top one so I can see what’s up there?” He laughed lightly and you could feel the short jokes coming but instead he simply pointed to the machete in your hand “Lay that down so I don’t accidentally get stabbed and I’d be glad to” you laid the machete down on the silver table that was in the middle of the room then turned back to Gadreel “Better?” he nodded “Turn around so I can give you a boost then I’ll keep one hand on your back to steady you” you turned towards the shelves like he said and felt his hands around your waist a second before he lifted you into the air.

You climbed onto the highest shelf that normally would take a step ladder to reach then smiled over your shoulder at him “Thank you.Now get ready so if I find something good”

------

Dean and Sam had cleared three different cabinets. They’d found a good amount of first aid supplies ranging from suture kits to wound cleansers. “I’m gonna check on Alicia and Max” Sam said so Dean replied “I’ll check on Y/N and Gadreel”

Sam headed towards the back of the clinic where the twins were so Dean headed towards the operating room where you and Gadreel had gone into. He could hear you laughing right before he opened the door to see Gadreel putting you back down on your feet, his hands were still on your hips and you were smiling up at him with your hands against his chest.

Dean felt that same flicker of anger but this time it was mixed with more emotions than just that. He almost felt sick with just how angry he felt, not to mention the hurt. You weren’t even kissing Gadreel but he felt as if he’d walked in on a lot more intimate moment than he had. Luckily he was able to reel it in and sounded emotionless when he waved a hand towards the two of you “Didn’t know I was interrupting something. Times up, we gotta go so whatever you two are doing, stick a damn pin in it or something” then turned and walked out without saying a word.

------

Gadreel watched Dean walk out then looked back at you “What was that about? I was just helping you down..he doesn’t think we..?” you weren’t sure what to say. To anyone else Dean would’ve sounded almost bored but you knew him well enough to know when he was blocking emotions. You weren’t sure what was going on but when Dean sounded emotionless were the times that his mind was being his worst enemy “I have no clue honestly Gadreel. Don’t worry about it though, I’ll handle it” “I’d never disrespect you or any woman for that matter. I mean well don’t get me wrong you’re a beautiful woman but I thought..” he trailed off and looked again at the door when Dean had disappeared out of then shook his head “Just know if I did anything wrong I apologize” “You didn’t Gadreel. Don’t worry Dean just gets a little antsy on runs” you explained with a strained smile.

By the time you and Gadreel made it to the parking lot everyone had loaded their bags and only Sam stood outside the van. He took the bag from Gadreel then glanced at you, You followed him to the back of the van and watched as he added your bag to the bunch. After he shut the door he turned around and leaned close to you. “What happened in there?” You groaned slightly “He didn’t make a scene did he?” he shook his head “No but I know him like you know him. Now what happened?” You took a breath running your hand down your face “I think he got the wrong idea when he saw Gadreel with his hands on me. He was helping me down off a tall shelf that was it Sam I swear! You know me I wouldn’t do anything on a run and honestly? Yeah Gadreel is a good looking guy I have eyes but that doesn’t mean I’d screw him on a run for fuck’s sake we both have sleeping quarters back at the compound..I don’t know why Dean acted like that! Nice to know one of my closest friends thinks so highly of me that he thinks I’d risk anyone's life to fool around on a run”

You were starting to move past confused onto anger the more you spoke and Sam knew that so he reached out and squeezed your shoulder “Breathe, ride in the backseat with Charlie and Alicia. I’m gonna ride up front with him and Max is riding in the middle seat. I’ll try to talk to him ok?” you nodded, not trusting your voice at the moment because you were highly conflicted.

Finally you managed “Ok” then walked back around the van to climb into the backseat with Alicia and Charlie. Charlie raised an eyebrow at you not riding upfront with Dean but welcomed you into the conversation she and Alicia were having.

The third day on the road meant clearing the second vet clinic. You were going through a list of top things to look for with Alicia. All of you had stopped a few miles from the clinic to clear the road of an overturned tree. You and her were keeping an eye out for any dead that may be attracted to the noises. So far you both had killed one a piece.

“All clear ladies!” Charlie called out so you both headed back to the van. You wanted nothing more than to ask Dean why he’d acted like he had but refused to start an argument in the middle of a run. You’d push it down until all of you got safely back to the compound then you’d confront him about it.

You climbed into the backseat silently sliding between Alicia and Max. You didn’t really want to spare a word for anyone but since Bobby had been clear the clinics were more your wheelhouse everyone was looking at you as to what to grab for human use and what could be left behind.

You finally spoke as Dean was pulling into the overgrown parking lot of the clinic “I’ve went over the list with Alicia and Sam so they both know what to look for” Dean knew you were talking to him in particular and barely cut his eyes at you in the mirror before saying “I’m staying behind the wheel this time. Charlie can go in with Sam” you nodded more to yourself than in response to him. Why was he being so damn infuriating? If he’d just talk to you then...well what exactly would you say?

You climbed out and once your feet hit the dirt you turned to Gadreel “Ready?” he nodded so you looked around to everyone for their acknowledgement that they were all set.You shot one final look at Dean before falling Gadreel across the lot.

------

“Son of a bitch that damn thing came out of nowhere” you cursed kicking the now permanently dead zombie at your feet. Gadreel pulled a bandana from his pocket and held it out “You’ve got some blood smeared across your cheek” you wiped at it and gave him a small albeit appreciative smile “Thanks and again I’m sorry about how Dean acted” he shrugged “It’s ok really. It’s understandable”

You laughed harshly “Accusing us of screwing around literally on a run? That’s understandable? You’re a little too zen” he looked at you for a moment as if there was a second meaning to what he’d said but if there was you couldn’t quite grasp it. He shook his head after a moment then held a hand out “I’ll carry the bag”

------

Dean was watching the door of the clinic closely. Max and Alicia were the first duo out followed by Sam and Charlie. You and Gadreel bought up the rear.

He tried to bite his tongue but when you started to climb in considering you were the first one in the van he couldn’t stop the words before they came out “You and Gadreel didn’t get into anymore tight spots did you?” He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth but it was too late to pull them back then. He could see the shock in your eyes when you froze halfway into the back seat and slowly turned to look at him the shock quickly turning to anger “Believe me Dean if I was to fuck Gadreel I’d wait until I had longer than a few minutes to try him out” before either of you could say anything else Sam opened the front door and Charlie stepped up to climb in behind you.

Dean was still staring at you in the mirror when he heard Alicia ask if you were ok since you were balling up what looked like a bandana in your hands. “Yeah just took out a biter so Gadreel gave it to me to clean the blood off”

------

You purposely turned to stare out the window and cursed the moment you’d agreed to come on this run. You wouldn’t cry. Hell you couldn’t afford the luxury of hurt feelings these days but knowing that didn’t exactly take the sting out of Dean’s words. You looked down at your hands as you tied Gadreel’s bandana into a loose knot then untied it and repeated the process. You just had to get this run over then you could distance yourself from Dean. You’d said the first thing that had came to mind that would hopefully hurt him the same way his words had hurt you..what had exactly become of yours and Dean’s friendship over the last few months?

Day four meant the last leg of the run before the turn around to head home to the compound. You hadn’t spoken a word to Dean and hadn’t really spoken to anyone without them saying something to you first. Dean hated that his jealousy because whether he liked it not he was jealous he hated that he’d let it put a wedge between you and him,

He had no idea what he could do to even slightly make it up to you. He spotted the turn off for the construction warehouse so he cleared his throat “Charlie you wanna be a wheelman again?” she glanced up from her spot next to you and nodded “Sure!” “Then we’ll do two teams of three that good with everyone?” he was hoping you’d say something but instead of what he wanted you to say you looked up “I’ll be on the team with Alicia and Max. I have the list you said we needed. I’ll tear it in half and hand Gadreel the other half. You, him and Sam can find that stuff”

Dean didn’t attempt to argue with you and only nodded instead “Sounds like a plan” Sam cut his eyes at his brother not really being used to him being ok with someone else calling the shots but it was you after all. “You good?” he asked quietly and Dean replied “Yeah” then pulled into the parking lot of the construction warehouse.

------

You were out of the van the moment it stopped rolling. There were two zombies shambling around the lot and you took them out in tandem. You turned to look at everyone as they climbed out of the van and managed to crack a smile when Charlie teased “My oh my someone woke up on the wrong side of the apocalypse” you shrugged “Hey beats any other stress release there was pre-z”

A small chorus of laughter went through everyone and you were glad for that. You didn’t want whatever was happening between you and Dean to affect everyone else. You winked at Alicia “Grab your brother and lets go shopping” she laughed and grabbed Max by the arm then motioned to you “Lead the way”

------

Sam could practically feel the tension in the air between Dean and Gadreel. He had thought for a while Dean’s feelings for you went deeper than friendship but it hadn’t been as blaringly apparent until Gadreel came into the picture. He was a good guy, he got along well with everyone in the compound. He respected that the women helped keep everything going and always managed to pull a smile to your face over some small joke. Dean was threatened by him because up to this point there hadn’t been any other guy that garnered any of your attention away from Dean not one anyone that you would be a possible match with.

The three of them were working in silence quickly gathering what was on their half of the list. Sam was personally just hoping no fight broke out that he’d had to break up. He noticed that Dean kept cutting his eyes at Gadreel and said a prayer under his breath that just for once Dean would let it go.

He had no such luck because although Dean didn’t say anything Gadreel cleared his throat “Dean” Dean raised his eyebrows in response to the other man “Yeah?” “Just so you know nothing happened between me and Y/N. She’s a beautiful, amazing woman but...”

Dean cut Gadreel off before he could finish speaking with a shake of his head “I was in the wrong man...to snap at either of you. You’re both grown, what you do is your business and I trust the fact that neither of you would do anything on a run to risk your lives or anyone else's”

Sam watched the both of them for a moment trying to decipher if they were actually trying to get along or mutually waving the white flag for your benefit but the moment was broken by Alicia’s scream of your name. No words had to be passed amongst the three men; they all started running towards the sound.

------

You were following behind Alicia and Max trying to keep an eye out for the last couple items on your half of the list. You glanced up at a shelf that ran nearly up to the high ceiling of the warehouse and decided to check it out. Max stopped when he saw you looking and offered “Want a hand getting up there?” you shook your head with a slight smirk “Naw I think I can handle it but stay close just in case”

You made it to the halfway point and had even grabbed a few things you knew were needed when you went to step on a board and felt it crack under you. One minute you were standing the next you felt yourself falling and only barely managed to hold onto the backpack you had been storing supplies in.

You hit hard behind the shelf and heard a low growl.You pushed yourself to sit up and saw three biters shuffling towards you “Son of a bitch” you groaned trying to get to your feet. You went to push yourself up but felt a gush of blood from your left arm so you used your right to get to your feet just barely avoiding the chomping teeth of the zombie that was bearing down on you. You could hear Alicia scream your name but couldn’t spare a response. You had to show attention to the threat in front of you. You slammed your machete into the skull of the first one in front of you and cursed again when you realized that while you’d killed it your blade was stuck. You reached for the knife at your side knowing it was your only chance. You kicked the second one square in the stomach knocking it back long enough you could stab the last one in the eye.

You pulled your knife free and felt the one you’d kicked grab your jacket. You struggled to get out of it before the zombie sank it’s rotting teeth into the material. You slammed your knife into it’s skull then leaned heavily against the wall. The shelf slid away to show you an exit route. You ran towards the sunlight now streaming in and saw that Dean, Sam, Gadreel, Max and Alicia had all worked to get the shelf pulled out.

The moment Alicia saw you she looked at the guys “Turn around let me help her check herself out” the men all quickly obliged so you let her pull your shirt up and check across your back,stomach and both arms to assure you hadn’t been bit. “Didn’t you find a few suture kits at the last clinic?” She asked and you nodded then spoke loud enough the guys could hear “All clear boys. You can look now”

Dean’s eyes were glued to your left arm where the sleeve of your grey shirt was soaked with blood “Please tell me that’s a cut sweetheart” you smiled slightly “Bastard tried to bite me but only got my jacket” “Thank god” he breathed. You simply nodded and looked around “Did we get everything we need cause I’d really like to go home to the compound now. It’s been a long week” Sam laughed lightly and nodded “Yeah we got it all but first someone has to help stitch you up before we roll out”

------

Charlie had been nominated to help you stitch up your arm so you were sitting in the back of the van while she worked. Everyone else was keeping an eye out to ensure no more biters made their presence known. “So are we gonna talk about some of the weirdness?” You raised an eyebrow which made her nod in response whether at you or at herself “Ok then guess not” she tied off the last stitch and snipped it “I don’t have to tell you to keep it clean” you slid your shirt back on fully and gave her a small smile “I know aftercare instructions ma’am”

------

Dean watched you in the rearview mirror as he drove. You’d fallen asleep in the jacket Gadreel had given you to wear considering yours had been turned into a zombie chew toy. He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry that you were leaning against Gadreel asleep. He’d nearly lost you. Nothing else mattered. Why had he acted like he had towards you? Why couldn’t he just tell you he had feelings for you? Why hadn’t he realized it before Gadreel joined the compound? He let out a breath which made Sam look his way. “You good?” He nodded “Yeah be even better when we get home”

A few days had passed since all of you had made it back to the compound. You had barely spoken to Dean since getting back. You were still conflicted about the way he’d acted on the run.You were walking through one of the greenhouses checking the medicinal plants. You could hear someone walking behind you but didn’t have to look to know who it was. You’d know Dean’s footsteps anywhere.

“What’s this one?” He asked stopping at the plant furthest away from you “Echinacea, it helps for colds and flu” you replied barely looking in his direction. He walked a little closer to you and touched another plant. “What about this one?” You sighed loudly before answering “Ginger, it has anti-inflammatory, antibacterial,antiviral property and helps with nausea”

You finally turned to look fully at him “Can we not act like you actually give a damn about any of these plants? Why are you here Dean? You’ve avoided me for days, hell I’ve avoided you too so why are we talking now?” he took a few steps towards you stopping only a mere foot away “I miss you, you’re my best friend and I acted like an idiot..” “And practically accused me of being a whore that couldn’t even wait to get back to safety to fuck someone” you added and he chuckled lightly “That too”

“Why Dean? Why have you been pulling away from me for months and why did this run just cement the fact that our friendship is apparently broken beyond repair” you felt your voice break but didn’t try to hide it. You cared about Dean even if you’d resigned yourself to only being a friend to him because he’d never see you as more. Now you’d even lost that.

“Please, don’t say that Y/N. I was an asshole I’ll admit. I never should’ve acted like that towards you or Gadreel..it’s just..” he trailed off and you were too tired of beating around the bush by that point so this time you were the one to snap “Just what Dean?”

“I saw you getting close with him. I saw the way you two looked at each other then seeing his hands on you and the way you were smiling..I knew I’d lost any chance with you. It took me seeing you with him to open my eyes to just how much you mean to me” you were stunned into silence at his words. After a moment without you replying he laughed bitterly “Yeah and now I look like an idiot to add to it. Look I just wanted to say sorry and I hope you’ll forgive me”

He turned to walk out and only then did you find your voice “You are an idiot” he turned around to face you “Excuse me?” You crossed the space to stand in front of him “You’re an idiot Dean Winchester. I've had feelings for you for a long time. Yeah Gadreel is a good looking guy and a sweetheart. We’re good friends and I like spending time with him but as far as who I want? It’s been you, it’s always been you”

A smile slipped onto his face “Well does that mean we’re gonna give this a try?” you shrugged nonchalantly “I don’t know. Are you gonna be a jealous ass if I have male friends and hang out with them?” he laughed “No, I promise you my days of being a jealous asshole are over. If you’re sure you want me I know you only say what you mean” you tapped your chin in mock thought for a moment before saying “In that case why don’t we seal it with a kiss?” “Thought you’d never ask,” he replied, pulling you into his arms.

#spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Text

Whumptober Day 29: Emergency Room

CW: Medical whump, sick whumpee, hospital whump, brief references to past child abuse and resulting traumatic association

Immediately follows Infection and Disorientation

Chris wakes up in the middle of a sentence.

Or rather, when his brain switches back on and he is conscious on a level he can participate in, he’s already talking, and the first thing he is aware of is a woman’s face, brown-skinned and with a slightly dry smile, watching him as he is saying, “-and, and, and then I saw, um, saw towels and the, the, the colors were all wrong, so, so I fixed them.”

“Oh, did you,” The woman replies, and there is a guarded kindness in her. “That was very kind of you.” He blinks at her, his vision slowly coming into focus. Chris takes a deep breath only to wince as a hazy sort of pain ripples up his right side. She leans over, a little closer. Her hair, black and full of tightly-wound curls slips over her shoulders and forwards, just brushing her cheeks. “Are you back with us? Don’t breathe so deep yet, okay?” She tilts her head, putting a hand up to push some hair back from his face. Jake does that sometimes, and Chris turns his head to encourage the affection, closing his eyes again.

Eyes closed feels better.

In the clinic they’re always kinder to trainees, if still brusque, businesslike, getting them in and out with bandages applied, fevers broken, internal injuries healed with rest and whatever drips down the IV to make them sleep when they have done nothing but beg for sleep since they lost themselves to the Drip.

The nurses are nicer than the handlers, and this one is talking to him and touching him but only where he wants her to, and that makes her the nicest of all.

The way the world is spinning begins to settle when his eyes are closed and she lays her hand briefly against the side of his face, and he breathes a little more easily. He must not be in trouble, if she’s allowed to be so nice.

There’s something beeping nearby, and he doesn’t like the flat white light coming from the fluorescents in the ceiling laying on exposed skin - he can feel its weight on his arms where they lay on top of the scratchy rough blanket - but at least it isn’t a cold light.

He shivers, opening his eyes to look down at himself, blinking. There are blankets pulled up to just under his arms, pale blue and sort of rough and soft, both at once, pilling so badly he can pick the little balls of fabric off bit by bit with one hand. Normally trainees don’t get blankets in the clinic, they’re supposed to freeze here, too.

He must have been very good but hurt anyway. Sometimes the handlers just want to hurt you, even when you’re good, because your tears are beautiful, too.

Besides, 499, you wanted this - you signed up so we would make you cry, right? Give me your arm, a little half-dose of purple should get you nice and worked up for us.

He tries to obey, rolling his left arm slowly over to expose the marked-up space at the inside of his left elbow - bandages wrapped around his left wrist over his barcode crinkling - and then realizes something is on - is in - his left arm. There’s… there’s a needle in his arm already, with a thin tube that runs up to a stand on wheels with multiple bags hooked onto it, and he thinks there’s something down below his waist, too. A catheter.

He’s been bad, then. There’s only one reason to have a needle in his elbow and a catheter in, but when he tries to panic, he’s… he’s too tired, and too dizzy, and too foggy, to feel very scared at all. Even if they are going to take him away again, it’s too late. The Drip is already in his veins and there he goes, all of him, wiped clean all over again.

The soft throb of pain along his right side, wrapped up in the gentle blanket that covers his mind, makes it clear he’s not going anywhere very fast, not today. The handlers will have to leave him alone, and that’s good, but if he’s here and on the Drip, it means he’s back again.

Back in the Facility, here to be wiped, refurbished, and sent back to Sir or to someone new… and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

He feels his throat closing against helplessness - no, he was rescued, he was rescued and they said he’d never go back… they swore, they promised, Jake and Nat promised they wouldn’t let him go back, Jake would have fought them, he would have done something-

Tears flood Chris’s eyes and he hitches in a breath on a whimper. Jake must have gotten too hurt to save him. He must have, he might even be dead-

If it weren’t for you, she’d still be alive-

“Hey, hey, come on now.” The soft female voice is closer now, and her hand is back on his face, up to run back through his hair as he sniffles, coughs, winces as the dull pain sharpens briefly and then fades again. “It’s okay, you’re okay. It’s just the hospital, yeah? Your appendix ruptured, you had to come here in an ambulance, had some pretty serious surgery. Can you remember that?”

His eyes manage to open, blurred through his tears, and he looks at her. She’s not wearing the uniforms that handlers or even the nurses wear, but a softly floral scrub top and plain navy pants. Her smile is different than any nurse’s in the clinic that he’s ever seen. She’s looking at him, not through him.

“I d-don’t know where, where, where I am,” He whispers, and she nods, her smile still in place.

“I know. That’s why I’m the one sitting here with you right now. You’re in the county hospital. You’re okay, Chris.”

Not 223499, but Chris.

He reaches back into his own mind and finds the train track that Jake and Nat are on, remembers their faces, their names, the way it feels when they hold him. He brings up the memory of Jake pulling his shirt off, handing it to Chris, whispering, I’ll come back, I promise.

He remembers Jake carrying him up the stairs three days later.

Chris holds, for a moment, the memory of Jake looking at him as they loaded him onto the plastic-backed bed-thing in the ambulance. He can remember, clearly, Jake's voice. We’ll be right behind you, Chris. I swear to God I’ll be there. I promise you, buddy, we’ll bring you back home.

He’s awake.

Jake isn’t here.

“Um, J-Jake, my, my… my…” Chris shakes his head, like a dog shaking off water. What had Nat been saying, before the ambulance came? Talking to Jake, the two of them, going over their story. His name is Christopher Stanton. He’s my little brother, and he’s autistic. “My, my, my my my brother, my-... he p-promised, where’s-... need my, my, my brother-”

“I texted Yoder when you started talking,” The woman says gently. “They’ll be up to see you in just a minute, okay?”

He tries to believe her.

There’s a fog in his thoughts and the trains are all running, but slow, finding their way, winding around the gray clouds in his head. “I, I was talking already,” Chris whispers. “Even… though I wasn’t, um, awake.”

His throat feels a little scratchy and rough, like someone shoved something down there, but the agonizing pain he’d been in - the sharp ache that had been a knife shredding him to nothing again and again and again - is gone. In its place there’s a duller throb, and the sense of floating inside a very nice fog. Like the fog he hates, but… better, somehow, too.

“I was… was asleep, and now… ‘m talking, but, but I was still, um, asleep, and… and and and… and talking…”

“Yes, that happens. It’s coming out of sedation, you kind of wake up before you really wake up, you know? I’ve done this before, and you know, I had someone once who… came back to himself in the middle of telling me about a margarita recipe he used to make for his girlfriend. He didn’t remember it any longer when he was awake. That’s the fun of recovery, I hear all kinds of things when I’m with someone. My wife proposed to me in recovery from her own surgery, you know. She doesn’t remember it at all.”

“You… you you you said yes?” Chris looks back at her. He can focus his eyes again, and the look of her is nice. Soft, but like she’s had to be hard before. Like Nat looks, sometimes, only Nat doesn’t have a wife, or anyone at all but… but Jake, just like everyone else has Jake to help.

He moves his right hand, gingerly - he can feel the thick bandage wrapped around his left, and is never less than terribly aware of the needle in his elbow - and she takes it in both of hers.

Her hands are cool, and dry. He smiles, faintly, and lets his head fall back against a flat pillow behind him. There’s a window to his left, three panes of glass, and outside, when he turns his head, he can see some trees, a courtyard. Birds hopping around the branches, but he can’t quite see what kind they are.

The woman squeezes his hand lightly. Chris takes a breath. This isn’t the clinic, because there are no windows at WRU. You’re never allowed to see outside, not until your owner is ready for you, not until you are good enough to go home.

Going outside is a privilege a pet has to earn.

This… this must be what an actual hospital looks like. He’s seen them on TV, sometimes. The TV ones didn’t really look much like this.

The woman keeps his hand in one of hers and uses the other to check her phone. “Oh, I made her ask again when she was all the way conscious, but yes.”

“That’s, that’s that’s nice. I’m Chris.” His voice is low, and shy, and he doesn’t see her nod - he doesn’t want to stop looking out the window at the clear morning sky - but he can kind of feel it, anyway.

“I know, sweetheart. Your family will be here any second, but they wanted you to have someone when you woke up, so I’m kind of sitting in for them for a bit. Don’t worry, they’re on their way.”

“Jake-”

“Yes, I’m told there’s a man named Jake and, you know, I know Yoder pretty well by now.”

“Why… why, why why why do y’call… Nat? Yoder?”

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know. Just always have. Used to be we weren’t allowed to know each other’s first names, so I guess the habit stuck. How are you feeling?”

“Um. Weird. Am, am, am I… give m’drugs?” Fear hits, again, but it’s faded, a shadow of itself. He shifts his left arm and feels tape pull against the skin inside his elbow, looks at the tubing that runs from the needle up to a bag hanging on a metal stand. There’s a machine, too, that shows numbers he doesn’t understand. His eyebrows furrow. “Was I… bad?”

“No, sweetie, no. No. You just had to have surgery, and you have to be knocked out for that.” The woman pats his hand again, and Chris tries to relax himself. There’s a window, and if there’s a window, he’s not going back. He recites the differences like an incantation. Like a chant. Like a prayer, to keep him safe, as long as he does everything just right.

There’s a window, and so he can’t be going back. He can see outside, the sky and the sun, and so he’s not going back. There’s kindness here, compassion and warmth, and so he isn’t going back. His wrists and ankles aren’t strapped down to the bed, so he’s not going back. Her hand holds his but it doesn’t touch him anywhere he doesn’t want, so he’s not going back. “Do you know what an appendix is, Christopher?”

Chris looks back at her. She has a nice face, and warm eyes, and calls him a name and not a number, so he’s not going back.

He can remember Jake, so he’s not going back.

Jake will come find him, and he’s not going back.

“No, ma’am,” He says, softly.

She laughs, and he likes the sound of her laughing, shaking her head, her curls moving with her. “Not a ma’am, thanks. I appreciate the politeness, though. I just don’t like being ‘ma’am’d, I’m not quite that old yet, now am I?”

“Where… where, where where where Jake is from, you c-call… everybody sir or, or ma’am, if you’re… if you’re raised right.” He tries to put the hint of sarcasm, dry and cynical, that Jake always has when he says it, but it doesn’t work for him. He can tell it doesn’t quite sound the same. He is floating, in this warmly lit room, watching the sky change from grayish-pink to purplish and finally to a pale blue, going cooler and deeper at the top.

The sun is rising, warm, to wash away the cold light.

“Well, that’s not where I’m from. In any case, your appendix is this little doohickey right there along your right side, and yours got infected. So Yoder-... well, Nat, I guess - called a mutual friend of ours-”

“Am-... ambulance,” Chris whispers, thinking of the two people, moving around him. His memories are faded and terrified and full of pain, but he thinks of the gloved hand on his shoulder, the hint of a brusque, calm reassurance, cool focused expression and clear brown eyes. “Finn.”

“Right. That’d be my friend. Then you weren’t feeling super great when we got you here, your appendix burst and you sure gave Mandela a job to do cleaning out that infection, huh? Finn stuck around to help out with that, they trained as an Army medic. Did they tell you that?”

Chris just blinks at her, and slowly shakes his head.

“Yeah, way back. Signed up right out of high school, dealt with some scary shit when things got tense at the Canadian border when Canada started taking runaways… anyway, they’re good in a pinch, but so am I, I guess.” She shrugs. “We can’t trust everybody, so… they helped us get you stable, and then we got you in and out of that OR. Just between us, though? Can you keep a secret?”

Chris blinks twice, then slowly nods.

“Good. Just between us, I think they stuck around because they took a shine to you. Anyway, now you’re hooked up-... let’s see, they said you wouldn’t like the IVs, so let me tell you, it’s something for your pain and a literal ton of antibiotics, that’s all.”

“An, antibiotics-... for the, um, the the infection?”

“Right. That’s all it is, I promise, antibiotics and something to make sure your incision doesn’t hurt too badly. Mandela knows her work, you should be able to leave in the next few days. Mandela’s kind of an arrogant blowhard, but she’s also maybe the second-best surgeon I’ve ever met and she’s, you know, safe… for you. Lucky for us she was meeting someone at that Starbucks across from the hospital, huh?”

“... lucky, lucky for us,” Chris repeats, just to show he’s listening, but he doesn’t quite understand what he’s being told. He could, he thinks, if he could just wake all the way up, but the hint of fog makes the connections a little more difficult, more of a struggle. “Um, can, can I, can I ask-... are you… Tori?”

The woman blinks, and then laughs again, and Chris smiles faintly in return. He wants her to laugh again and again, it’s a nice laugh, it changes the light inside the hospital room when she laughs like that. Makes it brighter, more like sunshine and less like a cold white room with a door he can’t open.

He wonders if her wife makes her laugh.

“Oh, Finn got chatty in the ambulance, hm? Well-”

There are footsteps, and the woman turns before she can answer his question.

“Let’s see… 210, 212… 214… here it is, 216, this should be it. Jake, damn it, knock first-”

The door opens with a hard jerk of the knob, and Chris looks to the doorway. He knows the bit of blond hair before he sees the face it belongs to. The fog inside his head is familiar, but it hasn’t taken anything away from him.

They didn’t take Jake away.

He lets go of the woman and a smile stretches across his face. The throb of pain is gone, it can’t hold together under the weight of the warmth inside him. “Jake!”

Jake moves through the doorway, eyes on Chris, the bright blue focused and intense, shadowed from lack of sleep. His hair mussed, and he’s still wearing the clothing Chris saw him in last, rumpled. He drops a backpack on the floor as he moves, and he doesn’t even seem to realize he’s done it. Nat appears behind him, her braid half-undone, circles under her eyes dug in even more deeply than the ones under Jake’s.

Jake leans over him, one knee up on the bed. “Hey, buddy.”

“Hi, hi, hi, um, hi-... h-hi, Jake.” He holds out one hand. “Um, can you, could, could you please-”

“Oh, Christ, be careful, he just had surgery!”

The woman’s warning is lost, because Jake is already hugging him.

Warm, strong arms around him, and he tucks his head right under Jake’s chin and breathes in the familiar smell of him, deodorant and cologne and the laundry-smell from his shirt, the skin-smell of Jake underneath all of it. The simplest way to anchor himself, the greatest certainty he has that he isn’t going back, because Jake is here, and Jake would never let anyone take him away, not ever again.

“There were people having a fucking pizza party in the ER waiting area while you were in surgery, I thought I’d kill them with my bare hands if I had to listen to it any longer. Who the fuck orders fucking delivery pizza at the ER?” Jake’s voice is cracking, and Chris hums, twisting his right hand into Jake’s shirt, twist-and-release, then finger-twist-tap-tap-tap, and it’s solid and real and the sun is so pretty outside the window.

“Sorry I, I, I, I didn’t tell you I was, um, was sick,” Chris whispers.

“Sorry I didn’t know without you having to tell me,” Jake whispers back. “I hate hospitals, little man, you have no idea how much I hate having to tell lies in a hospital again. Fuck, I hate hospitals so fucking much.”

“Me, me, me me me, me too, but, um, but it’s okay with you here. It’s okay. It’s, it’s not-”

“It’s not the same,” Jake says softly.

“Right. Not, not, not the same. I’m, I’m, I’m not, not, not, um, not going… going back.”

“Never, Chris. Not ever. Letting you go in that ambulance without me is the second-hardest thing I’ve ever fucking done,” Jake whispers, and tears build in Chris’s eyes as he buries himself against Jake’s neck, his hands making short, jerky little flapping motions as he struggles to keep the feelings inside him from overwhelming his ability to speak.

“What, what, what was, was the hardest?”

“What?”

“What’s, um, what’s… what’s the, the, the… the-the hardest thing? You’ve, you’ve ever, um… ever done?"

Jake’s breath hitches, and there are tears in his voice as he holds on tight. “Sitting in fucking limbo knowing I couldn’t be the one to help you.”

Chris swallows back a twist inside his heart. “Y-yeah?”

“Yeah, just… having to be stuck outside while someone else did all that shit that it feels like I’m supposed to do.”

There’s a sudden rustle at the window, and Chris turns his head just enough to see a flutter of red wings disappear down towards the courtyard below.

---

Tori belongs to @whump-tr0pes and is used with permission and great love

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly, @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary

#whumptober2020 #no. 29 #emergency room #sick whumpee #hospital whump #medical whump #conditioning #trauma recovery #trauma recovery whump #recovering whumpee #surgery reference #brief child abuse reference #box boy #box boy universe #box boy multiverse #chris the strawberry blond romantic #jake the shelter guy #found family #listen let me have my heavy-handed touches okay.

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alolowrites · 4 years

Text

Everyone’s Got a Sweet Tooth!

Summary: Bakugou hates sweets. You don’t think this is true and begin a mission to discover his favorite candy. After all, you are the brilliant Candy Master who won’t stop until Bakugou’s sweet tooth is satisfied.

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! I’m so glad I was finally able to write a full fic for Bakugou; it’s been so long. Originally, this was supposed to be for the bingo event, but had trouble fleshing out the story’s direction. I really wanted to write this story since the plot was hilarious to me, idk why.

Please enjoy!

10.30.21 UPDATE: HI!!!!! I went back and edited the heck out of this baby since it’s my favorite Bakugou story I’ve written. I hope it is now decent lmao. Happy Halloween!!

Word Count: 2.4K+

“Katsuki, what is the meaning of all this?!”

“The hell are you talkin’ bout?”

“This!”

You marched with purpose and plopped down on the couch where he sat. Bakugou remained unfazed, clicking on the remote control. He mindlessly surfed through the channels with an attention span of an HR recruiter combing through a mountain pile of resumes. Stupid sitcoms, fake ass “reality” tv shows, QVC advertising their products like it's Black Friday all day, every day. Bakugou frowned—why does he pay so much for these useless channels?

His eyes teared away from the screen as the phone waved frantically on his left.

You huffed. “According to Maximus Heroes, you—and I quote—‘bleeping hate sweets!’”

Bakugou clicked his tongue. “Damn idiots censored my words.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?”

“That you hate sweets!”

You viciously smacked a pillow at him, ignoring his yells. Bakugou snatched the weapon with a growl. For a soft pillow, it felt like a firm foam roller. You stood up and paced around, arms flailing in the air.

“How can my boyfriend say such a thing?!” You pointed at your signature black top hat. “Do you know who I am? I’m the lovable Candy Master, CEO of the Candy Basket Factory!”

Bakugou shrugged. “So?”

“So, you can’t say you hate sweets!” You gripped your chest, sniffling a bit. “I feel as though I’ve been betrayed.”

“Would you sit your ass down?”

Bakugou tossed the pillow at you and crossed his arm; he was too tired to deal with this nonsense. Somehow the QVC channel looked more appealing now. You begrudgingly plopped on the couch, a small pout growing on your face. Bakugou snuck a glance and sighed, tossing the remote aside.

“Are you seriously so upset about this?” Instant regret flooded through his mind as he remembered that ridiculous day. “It was a freakin’ answer to a stupid question in a stupid celebrity article.”

“…maybe…”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. You took off your signature hat and examined it; the hat was firm yet soft and had three peppermint candies artistically attached like a beautiful brooch. You moped silently for an eternity until an exciting idea rushed into your mind. Bakugou jumped as you squealed, his mouth ready for snarl, but you beat him to the punch.

“I got it!” Two hands eagerly cupped his sharp cheeks, your whimsical eyes meeting his feral ones. They did nothing to damper your beaming smile. “You don’t hate sweets; you just haven’t found your favorite candy!”

Bakugou grabbed your wrist yet didn’t pull them away. Another giggle rang throughout the living room as you shot up from the sofa. A specific look crossed your face—one that both irked and frightened Bakugou to no end; he was through dealing with your shenanigans.

“Whatever you’re thinkin’ about, the answer is no!”

“Too late! The mind is churning,” you piped, taking a cheerful step toward the doorway. Spinning on your heel, you gave a hat tip to Bakugou and declared, “I won’t rest until that sweet tooth of yours is satisfied!”

Yup, it was too late. Bakugou had no choice but to go along with this dumb idea. Closing his eyes, he slammed a pillow over his face and screamed.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Ground Zero’s hero agency was buzzing with life. Phones rang off the hook, yet all were answered to avoid the voicemail machine. Interns carried endless stacks of papers, their dying arms begging for relief and fingers stinging from brutal paper cuts. The afternoon shift sidekicks clocked in their arrival while the morning ones yawned out the door.

Everything ran like a well-oiled machine, just how Bakugou liked it. He took great pride in this, hiring only the best and brightest. However, none of them held a candle against him—the number two pro hero. Unfortunately, being a prominent hero brought lots of reports he needed to sign.

And he was not excited about this.

“Um, sir?”

“Damnit, Small Head,” Bakugou growled, halting his pen’s movement. Fiery eyes glared at the man peeking around the ajar door. “If you bring me another paper to sign, I will stab this pen in your damn eye!”

“I-I assure you that I bring no reports, sir!” Kioshi, Bakugou’s personal assistant, waddled inside the office, fixing the tie that was strangling his neck. He slid a peculiar package toward his boss and bowed his head. “You have a special delivery from the Candy Master.”

Bakugou scrunched his eyebrows. On his desk was a white box with an orange ribbon wrapped neatly in the upper left corner. A tiny card sat underneath it, and with closer inspection, had his first name written across in gold letters. Bakugou shooed Kioshi away, waiting to hear the door close to ensure absolute privacy.

At first, Bakugou had a mini stare-down with the gift. When it didn’t burst into flames, he sucked his breath and snatched the card. Bakugou turned it around to read the following message:

Everyone knows you got a sour attitude, but only I get to see that sweet side of yours. Figured these treats might do the trick. I made them just for you!

Enjoy,

C.M

P.S. These are an ~exclusive~ batch from my top-secret collection! So hush-hush!

Bakugou snorted at your writing, tossing the card aside and opening the box. His eyes narrowed at the vibrant gumdrops nestled above the black tissue paper. White sugar lightly coated the green and orange candies, each twinkling under the natural light that shined through his large window. A smirk curled on his lips; the whole package reflected his hero costume.

“Let’s see how good these are.”

Bakugou ate the green gumdrop. It was chewy and sour, the lime flavor making him twitch a bit. The sweetness kicked in ten seconds later. Bakugou tried the orange gumdrop next, and the acid was strong too but enjoyable. He soon devoured the entire box in one sitting.

Once that was done, he marched out of the office to start his daily patrol. It didn’t take long for a stupid thug to cross his path. Bakugou slammed him against the concrete wall, hauling him up with just one hand. The man trembled in fear but stopped squirming and cocked his head to the side, dumbfounded.

Bakugou growled. “What the hell are you looking at?”

“Your tongue...it got weird colors, man.”

“Eh? The fuck are you talking ‘bout?”

Bakugou peeked at his reflection on the store’s window. He recoiled when he saw the horrible swirls of green and orange covering his tongue. A vicious scowl crossed Bakugou’s face, his iron grip tightening around the thug’s collar. The guy’s high-pitched yelps fell on deaf ears.

“Fuckin’ gumdrops!”

They were crossed off the list.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

“I don’t want it.”

“But, sir, the gift—”

“I know who it’s from, and I’m telling you no.”

“Sir,” Kioshi gripped the massive, cherry red treat in his hand. A black ribbon with long strings almost reached the floor. The assistant sighed. “It’s just a lollipop.”

“Do I look like a fuckin’ baby to ya?” Bakugou crossed his arms, refusing to budge on his childish decision. The irony made Kioshi roll his eyes mentally. “Give it away or something. Now get out.”

“Yes, sir…”

Lollipops were crossed off the list.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Another day, another gift Bakugou received from you.

They came sporadically and kept the hero on his toes. He never understood why you sent the gifts directly to his office; you both lived in the same apartment for crying out loud! Worst of all, he could never get a single hint on what candy he would receive next. Every time he asked—or more accurately, demanded—you shot him a coy smile and purred, “Ah, ah, ah! It’s a surprise!”

Bakugou wanted to rip his eyeballs out.

However, he reluctantly played along with your stupid game. Whenever Kioshi entered his office, Bakugou masked his slight interest with the usual scowl. If the assistant didn’t bring candy, then Bakugou blamed him for interrupting his private time. The anger was worse if Kioshi brought more reports for him to sign.

Kioshi was thankful for the days when a new candy gift arrived.

Unfortunately, the last three gifts were complete failures. The first was the strawberry licorice, which dangled in Bakugou’s hand. He took a few bites and complained that he was eating a rubber wheel. Next was a bag of colorful gummy worms. Bakugou shoved a couple in his mouth and swore he felt one of them move on its own. Finally, there was the lemon green jawbreaker; it was the size of a baseball. One look and Bakugou shouted over the phone: “You tryna give me dentures?!”

All three candies were crossed off the list. Still, you didn’t give up and sent another gift to Bakugou. He read the simple message on the card:

Chew and blow to your heart’s content, babe!

Love,

C.M

P.S. I promise this won’t change the color on your tongue, haha!

Bakugou opened the sleek, rectangular box and found a bubble gum packet inside; there were three thin pieces. He slipped one in his mouth, surprisingly pleased with the bold raspberry flavor hitting his taste buds. Bakugou skimmed the card again and did as instructed—he chewed.

Typically, an ordinary bubble gum would lose its flavor after five minutes. But the flavor in your gum only got juicier; it encouraged Bakugou to continue chewing. He then blew a tiny bubble before popping it in his mouth. Not bad, he thought as another bubble expanded in front of him. His chews became more aggressive, and the bubbles more prominent than the previous ones. Stupidly, he puffed out a massive bubble, and it grew…

…and grew…and grew until there was a loud pop.

Bakugou’s roars shook the entire building, spilling cold tea all over Kioshi’s shirt.

Bubble gum was crossed off the list.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Everything was going well down at the Candy Basket Factory. People lined up outside for the magical tours that ran every hour. Kids bounced off the walls as if they were on a sugar rush while their parents felt a migraine pounding on their heads. Inside the factory, the ceilings were high, and the walls were vibrant like the sun. Laughter rang from every corner as employees chit-chatted about their daily lives; they were relaxed yet efficiently worked to the same drumbeat.

A soft smile crept on your face. You were glad everyone was happy; it was the driving force behind your factory’s joyful spirit. Eventually, that spirit would leave these doors and touch billions of people’s hearts with your precious candies.

Just as you closed your eyes, someone barged into your office and barked your name. You chuckled, spinning the leather chair around to meet a furious Bakugou. His nostrils flared like a bull, and his menacing eyes looked ready to kill. However, the gum’s blobs stuck on his porcupine blonde hair squashed the pro hero’s intimidating aura.

“You—”

“—I’m so sorry, boss!” Nozomi panted into the room, hands on her knees as she caught her breath. “I tried stopping him, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“It’s quite alright, Zomi!” You chirped without breaking Bakugou’s intense eye contact. “I can handle him. Please let everyone know I’ll be busy with an important meeting.”

Nozomi bowed and closed the door behind her. Bakugou wasted no time complaining, his hands slamming on your desk.

“Quit sending me your cavity-infested garbage! I’ve had it with this fuckin’ game.”

“Oh, come on, babe!” You rolled forward and rested your chin on your gloved hand palm. “Can’t I just send my dashing boyfriend some sweet gifts? Get it!” You jokingly slapped his forearm. “Because candies are sweet? Man, I crack myself up at times…”

“You’re insufferable.”

You winked at him. “But that’s what you love about me!”

Bakugou gritted his teeth and looked away. A light blush tainted his cheeks; he hated how right you were. You walked around the desk and stood beside him, wiping off the fairy sugar dust on his shirt. He probably barged through the sample stand near the entrance, scaring off the poor intern.

“Alright, alright.” You gave a gentle pat. “Sorry for going a little overboard with the gifts. I was just excited about finding your favorite candy! I don’t want you hating them.”

Bakugou’s anger subsided. “Why is this so damn important to you?”

“Because I love spreading endless joy through sweets.”

The answer was simple and innocent. Bakugou blinked and was taken aback by the gentleness in your eyes.

“Candy makes everyone happy,” you chirped. “Knowing someone’s favorite candy helps me bring their smile back whenever they’re upset or lost. Can’t have the world be all mopey now, can we?”

Your fingers hovered above Bakugou’s head. The gum moved under your command and floated in the air. You flicked it into the trash bin with ease, and Bakugou murmured a quick ‘thanks’ under his breath. After ruffling his hair, you suddenly remembered something sitting on your shelf. Bakugou stared at the small pyramid of chocolate truffles coming toward him.

“I made these babies a few minutes ago,” you said, eying the plate with a proud grin. “Normally, I do a taste test and then send the gift if it satisfies my expectations. But, I got a feeling you’ll love them.”

Bakugou’s face was unreadable. You gave him a gentle nudge and encouraged him to take one. He sighed before picking a chocolate truffle; it was warm and soft, the cocoa powder dusting his fingertips. After suspiciously staring at the truffle, he ate the entire thing in one go. His eyes widened as all the flavors exploded at once. The crushed red pepper flakes, the hints of rich cinnamon and orange zest, and the bittersweet dark chocolate made from the finest quality found on Earth all danced perfectly together with every bite.

“So…” You placed the plate on the desk, watching Bakugou swallow the truffle down. “What do you think? Give me your honest opinion! Don’t sugarcoat it, haha! I’m on fire today!”

Bakugou turned away. “I’m leaving.”

“No, wait!” You hugged his bicep with a pout. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop. Just tell me if you liked the chocolate truffles.”

“They’re good.”

Your smile grew. “Good enough to be your favorite?”

“Sure,” he smirked, shoving another truffle into his mouth. You cheered on the spot after weeks of constant failures. Of course, some of the complaints were nonsense which didn’t surprise you. Bakugou was a picky bastard; the lollipop fiasco served as a great example. You were glad he thoroughly enjoyed the chocolate truffles.

Before you walked away, Bakugou pulled you close to him and crushed his lips on yours. He caught you off guard, but the surprise was certainly welcomed. You soon melted into the kiss after tasting the rich dark chocolate and spices on his lips. Bakugou’s arms snaked around your waist as your hands gripped his broad shoulders.

“You know,” Bakugou’s hot breath tickled your right ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I think I got a new favorite candy.”

“Is that so?” You hummed, a coy smile plastered on your face.

“Let’s hope it satisfies your sweet tooth then, Ground Zero.”

“Oh, it will.”

After all, you were the one and only Candy Master.

As always, thanks for reading!

10.18.20 UPDATE: Story’s sequel, Gold Coins and a Gold Heart now uploaded.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha imagines

215 notes · View notes

moccahobi · 3 years

Text

A Spark in the Commons [Yugyeom x Reader]

Pairing: Got7 Yugyeom x GN Reader

Genre: Fluff, Hybrid au, College au, 13+

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Mentions of a panic attack

A/N: This was done for @got7writerscollective‘s flightlog project! It’s my first official got7 fic! So please enjoy!

Summery: You help an anxious deer shifter in the shifter union commons and a friendship buds.

The Shifter Union commons of Seoul University was empty aside from you and the occasional guard who would sweep through to make sure that nothing amiss was happening. Of course nothing ever was on evenings like these where the only person in the commons was an employee getting paid to make sure any shifter in need had someone. Some nights were more wild and full of shifters who were in various states of shifting, but you didn’t like to work those nights. You prefered staffing the less crowded times when there were next to no one in the commons and you could work on homework while getting paid. Even with the occasional person who would come in, the quieter nights were best in your personal opinion.

This evening was one of those quiet nights. You’d been alone in the common space for almost an hour, the last shifter having left after the two of you had a conversation about a class they were taking. It was just as you finished writing your tenth page of your peace studies essay that you felt the strung and pungent smell of burnt toast and something more bitter made you look up to see an anxious deer shifter, his antlers parting his hair as he approached the open common’s room.

“Hello! Welcome to the Seoul University’s shifter union!” You said cautiously, your eyes meeting his large, blown out ones with worry as he finally entered the commons.

The man stopped stiffly, tightly gripping his bag and not breaking eye contact with you, his nose flaring as he sniffed the room. Breaking eye contact first, you gave him a once over, struck by how still he was. You were glad that you took blockers this morning, your predatory raccoon pheromones not filling the room this moment and making the poor shifter feel more anxious and he didn’t need that. Poor man was working himself up enough already.

“How can I help you?”

He didn’t move, a small squeak leaving him.

“Would you like a private room to shift in?” You pointed to a door to the right of you that led to some small rooms sterile for shifters who needed to engage with their animal form privately for a little, “The union has some rooms for people right over there.”

He lowered his eyes which were looking more and more deer-like by the second and quickly walked over to the door that led to the private rooms, closing loudly behind him. A sigh left you as you tried to return to your paper. Many times shifters needed space when their stress and anxiety forced them to shift, but you knew that before the man left you’d need to talk to him.

Part of your job at the shifter union required you to record his use of the room, check in to make sure that he was ok, and that the emergency need of the space wasn’t due to any issues on campus. You worried about him trying to run off the second he calmed down enough to return to his human form, having dealt with many shifters who feared using the union for its help or felt like they had to return to class immediately after a forced shift. They never had to. The union worked out a deal with the school to make sure forced shifts were seen as excused absences if filed through the union. You loved this job and how it allowed you to help your fellow shifters. You’d be damned if you didn’t take your work seriously.

In fact, part of the reason you got on pheromone blockers was to make prey shifters more comfortable around you (the other part simply due to you not enjoying the feeling of heat and regular blockers kept your heat at bay). At the thought of pheromones, you got up, opened one of the windows and lit a candle in an attempt to start breaking up the stress pheromones that hung in the air.

What sounded like a constant clatter of hooves made it hard to focus on your paper. It wasn’t like you could look at what was happening, the rooms had windows high up to allow light in but not let people see what those who were decompressing were doing. Somehow, the noise of the anxious shifter became background clatter and you managed to carve out a good chunk of your essay before you started to hear more… human-like movements in the back space.

Your mind drifted to how you could get his attention without scaring him when he finally exited. There was a chance that he was informed about the processes the commons tries to have when the rooms are used but there is also a chance that he is completely unaware of them. There were many shifters who didn’t know the protocol. Plus, if you did need to get his attention, you didn’t want to startle him or make it look like he was in trouble for using the space for three hours. The decompression rooms were here for moments like this after all. You heard the telltale click of the door opening but before you had time to try to get his attention, he spoke.

“I… thank you for letting me use the room for so long.” His voice was soft and smooth and, unlike last time, you were the one whose eyes widened and felt frozen in place.

He was good looking and smelling when he wasn’t sending off stress pheramones every which way, and his voice… it was so soft.

You floundered for a second before coughing, “N-No problem. They’re here for all shifters. Which room did you end up using? I will want to tell the next person working the union commons to make sure it gets cleaned.”

“I used the room number… 3,” He said while leaning back to verify.

A silence hung in the air after he spoke, he was clearly waiting for you to speak but you were still frozen. He hesitated before slowly walking past you, his eyes trained on you as if waiting to see if you kept talking or if he was free to go.

“Before you go… may I ask…”

You froze… you knew how you were supposed to go about getting the information. You needed to ask for his student ID, name, and why they needed the room… but something about this man was making words hard for you. Your mind was blanking and stuttering as it tried to function.

“Yes?”

“I-If you have time, we like to keep a record of who uses the rooms and why. Mostly just to keep track… but also if you were using it because of…”

Come on, Y/n! You knew this stuff! Why were you struggling so much now?

You sighed, “If it was caused by a staff member or a fellow student, the union can take action to protect your rights as a shifter. There are also options to message professors or coaches to excuse possible absences if the room was used for a stress shift. Also… I, as a worker, um… I work here and part of my job is to be an ear for venting and… all that… I am not a mandatory reporter too so if that is a worry… uhh… don’t.”

He nodded slowly, “Uhh… I have a class… now,” He mumbled and pointed back to the entrance of the commons, “was on my way to it when I got a little… overwhelmed…”

Did he not check his phone yet? Any evening class was going to be done at this time you thought, checking the clock on your computer just to verify.

“Sir, you were in the room for three hours.”

“What?!” His eyes widened and you noticed his pupils grow once again.

Quickly, you jumped up and walked over to where he was standing, “Don’t worry about it! If you give me a list of your professors, I can email them! This can count as an excused absence! There’s no need to worry.”

His eyes seemed to gloss over as he stumbled back slightly, his breaths coming out shift and fast. Quickly, you moved to guide him back to one of the nearest chairs that was only a few steps away and plush, gently rubbing his arm as he took a sharp intake of air and collapsed onto the chair, his horns slowly growing again and pushing some hair back.You got up and locked the door to the union entrance before returning to help. While it was normally policy to keep the door open and unlocked all times a staff member was in, you could risk making sure no one interrupted this moment to make sure this student felt safe (especially since you were a fairly small school and there were only 1000 shifters… out of 5000 students in the school and it was dinner rush).

By the time you did make it back to him, he was starting to hyperventilate, his eyes distant and his antlers growing by the second. At this point, his distress pheromones were making the air heavy and hard to breath in and you were thankful that the window was open. You simply sat next to him and waited. At this point, if you tried to touch him, he would likely feel even more panicked and you didn’t want to do anything that could possibly harm him. Panic attacks were hard enough without any extra stressors.

The panic attack came in waves and you sat with him through it until he was able to speak some, but instead of letting him even think about apologizing, you simply started to ask him about the room. How many grey items were there? Purple? Green? And so forth until his breathing was calmer and you stopped being showered in his stress pheromones.

“My name’s Yugyeom, by the way.” He said after a minute of silence when he finally calmed down more.

“Nice to meet you Yugyeom, I’m Y/n.”

As it turned out, Yugyeom was a transfer just a year below you and had just declared his major the day he came in. You could easily see how the stress of being a transfer, with a human roommate (who didn’t want him to shift), delaring, and the start of a seven week night course could compound. That night, the two of you talked until Yejin, one of your coworkers came for her shift and forced you out so that you could get some sleep. The two of you left in a fit of laughs and then walked around campus and talked even more until you barely had enough money to drive back to your apartment. Despite how the night started, it was probably the best night of your whole week and you were hoping to talk to Yugyeom whenever you saw him next to get his number and hopefully hang out… Although you were tempted to try to pursue a romantic relationship as well.

The thing was, that after that night you didn’t see him for a whole week! You’d see his name on the record of people who used the shifting rooms, would sometimes have to clean up after him, and even saw him around campus some. Sadly, it seemed as if your schedules never matched up to see eachother again and despite all the near meet-ups, you didn’t have a chance to talk to him again. You wanted to as well… you were worried about the anxious transfer student and wanted to make sure that he was doing ok.

Part of you wanted to seek him out. The campus was small and you were fairly positive that the two of you saw glimpses of each other (and just didn’t realize) so seeking him out wouldn’t be too hard to do. That part of you was overshadowed by a worry that he didn’t want to try to have a friendship with you or the little flirting you did near the end of the night was too much and now he never wanted to talk to you again. Of course it was a mostly irrational fear (hopefully), but it kept you from trying to find Yugyeom.

. Just as you were starting to give up hope of seeing him again, you were proven wrong. It was another late shift at the shifter union and since you didn’t have any dier work that needed to be done, you simply sat one one of the couches and read.You were still present in case anyone wanted to be in the space, but you were trying to relax. It was somewhat hard though as you were also very aware of the security guard who was slowly meandering around the unions commons and making sure that everything was ok. As the guard spent more and more time slowly walking around the commons, you started paying less and less attention to your book, instead your senses honing in on the guard. It was likely due to your raccoon part that you felt so cautious around the guard but the longer he stuck in the union commons, the worse you felt about him.

He was taking glances at you. Maybe he was just double checking to make sure all was alright but your mind started to wander. You hadn’t had issues with this guard but you knew that some of the security guards were iffy around the shifters they thought they could dominere. Part of you wished that you weren’t on pheromone blockers so you could show him that you were not a shifter to be messed with. That you could be intimidating and a force to be reckoned with. Technically raccoons were apex predators.

Before your mind started to wander further about how you could intimidate or protect yourself against the guard, the union door opened and the smell of Yugyeom filled your senses. Almost as soon as it hit your nostrils, you felt yourself relax. Part of you told yourself that it was simply due to having another person in the room and a male shifter at that (another part of you swooned when you caught a glimpse of Yugyeom in all his glory).

The guard huffed and, as Yugyeom started to settle into a seat somewhat near you, the guard left the room. As he left, you wondered what he was thinking and if he actually wanted to try something or if your anxiety was all in your head. You really hoped it was all in your head.

Slowly, you relaxed in your seat, part of your brain still focusing on Yugyeom while you tried to continue reading. His smell comforted you. You didn’t know why, but you didn’t feel the need to question it. Instead, you simply settled further into your chair and focused on your book again, taking deep breaths all the while.

As the night dragged on, you occasionally checked on Yugyeom to make sure that he was ok (and maybe see if he was looking at you. During all your “sneaky” glances, you were once again struck by how handsome he was. Even as his brows furrowed in confusion and got ink on his nose, he was so good looking. No one should look as good as he looked while doing school work.

At one point, you had to stifle a small laugh when you saw him reach for some drink he brought with him only to realize that it was empty. The shocked face he made when he realized made you want to swoon and get him another drink as well, but you didn’t want to speak and further break the delicate silence. Apparently Yugyeom must have heard your laugh because he looked up and met your eyes. Both of you simply stared at each other in awkward silence.

Fuck.

“Uh… what were you drinking?” You asked, cringing as each word was spoken.

A sinkhole would be wonderful at this point. You really didn’t want to answer and yet he was simply looking even more confused as the silence festered, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of what to say in response.

Fuck.

Without even giving him time to answer, you excused yourself hastily, embarrassment filling you to the brim as you practically ran out of the commons. Now you had another issue to worry about as well… what would be your excuse for leaving?

You were such a dumbass for leaving.

Fuck.

Yugyeom was surely going to answer if you hadn’t left, and now that you suddenly left he probably thought you were rude and most definitely wouldn’t want to be your friend. All your stuff was still in the commons as well and you still had another two hours that you were supposed to be working the commons before your shift was done. It wasn’t like you could just leave and not return for the night.

The only plus you could see was that you had your lanyard with you. At least you could get something at a vending machine or something. It wasn’t the most acceptable reason to walk out of the commons before he could answer but at least it was something.

At that thought, you briskly walked to the closest vending machine, hoping no one who was still working late in the building wouldn’t look at you or try to talk to you. It was just down the hall so it wouldn’t take you too long to get something and return as long as no one talked to you.

Before you punched in a number for one of the foods in the machine though, you found yourself realizing that you had no idea what he liked to eat. As if tonight couldn’t get any more embarrassing. It was like part of you was dying as you stared angrily at the vending machine for help (not like it was sentient and could suddenly shout “This is the food Yugyeom gets every time!”).

In the end, you settled for getting him one of your favorite snacks from the vending machine and praying that Yugyeom had some sense in food. As you slowly walked back to the commons, different scenarios played through your mind depending on how he reacted. It wasn’t until you almost entered that you wondered if he was even still in the commons.

He was, thankfully.

When you entered, you stopped at the door though, suddenly worried about going up to Yugyeom and giving him the snack… It wasn’t a big deal… but what if he was allergic to what you got? Or what if he…

“Are you just going to stand by the door?” His voice cut through your thoughts.

You coughed awkwardly, “No… Sorry for leaving so suddenly earlier… I… uh… I had to pee. Badly. To make it up though…” You shuffled to him and quickly set the snack in front of him, “Here’s a snack. I didn’t know what to get you so I got my favorite.”

He looked shocked, “Thank you! I love this snack! I was drinking a matcha latte by the way. The cafe downstairs makes a really good latte. I’m addicted.”

“They are so amazing.” You laughed and nodded, quickly sitting in your seat again as relief filled you, “I remember having like five a day until I ran out of swipes for it on my card and had to struggle without them for the rest of the semester… which had like two months left.”

Yugyeom snorted and you felt a jolt of excitement at hearing it, “Yeah. One of my friends is that way with their coldbrews. Loves their honey and vanilla one.” He scrunched up his nose cutely, “It doesn’t taste good to me though.”

“You know… if you want really good matcha stuff. There’s a cafe off campus near the town’s library that is all matcha themed. They have some other stuff but almost everything uses matcha in it and it’s amazing.”

“That sounds amazing… I’d love to go sometime… maybe…” Yugyeom stopped and you noticed a deep blush grow on his face, “Maybe we could go together sometime.”

“I’d like that a lot.”

You felt positively giddy as you waited for Yugyeom outside of the union commons the following day, your mind racing as you tried to look calm and collected. Of course, almost every shifter in the room could smell the anxiety wafting off of you as you waited but all of them had the decency to act like you weren’t anxious… well except for Yejin who was another shifter who worked at the union and was probably your closest friend that you also worked with.

As soon as she saw you show up with nothing but a small backpack that only held a few things and smelled your anxiety, she knew right away that you weren’t in the commons to relax. When you told her that you were meeting with a… a friend, she got all excited (even more excited when you confessed that you were here earlier than needed). You weren’t normally someone who was overly worried about time, especially when it came to hanging out, but Yugyeom made you nervous and you wanted to impress.

While Yejin started to complain about you not telling her sooner, you felt thankful that you hadn’t. She was amazing and you loved her, but you knew that if you told her that you were hanging with a guy you had a crush on, she would try to style you up. You didn’t think that this was the type of occasion for that. Besides, Yugyeom probably meant it as a friendship hang out and not a date hangout. Your gay ass never knew how to handle good looking people who wanted to be friends… especially when they were as sweet and good looking as Yugyeom.

You so had a crush on the guy.

Fuck.

“Haha. Looks like we both had the idea of arriving early.” Yugyeom’s laugh broke you from your train of thoughts.

You looked up to see him enter the commons and make a b-line to you, and you were struck with how handsome he was. Not that he wasn’t normally. He always looked good, but he looked amazing in the large blue sweater and skinny jeans. What topped it off was that his hair was swept back in a graceful windblown manner, unlike the past few times where it rested in a simple bowl cut that still managed to make him look amazing.

Like you, there was also a smell of nervousness that radiated off of him, but neither of you mentioned the nervous smells. If anything, his anxiousness made you feel more excited and comforted. Maybe Yugyeom thought of this as something more than two potential friends hanging out… just like you did.

You tried to smile as naturally as possible (although, it probably looked slightly pained), “Yeah! I mean… I had a shift here just before this.”

“Oh.” Yugyeom’s smile faltered slightly and you immediately knew you messed up.

“Not like I wouldn’t have arrived early if I didn’t have a shift,” You laughed awkwardly, the two of you now walking to your car to go to the matcha shop, “Honestly, I am so bad with time, if it wasn’t’ for my shift, I would have probably been here two hours early instead of just thirty minutes early.”

“I thought you just got off of a shift?” Yugyeom smirked and you blushed.

“I… Yeah. I mean… I got off two hours ago, went to get ready, and then I returned… not…”

Yugyeom laughed loudly and shook his head, effectively cutting you off. Before either of you had time to respond, you made it to your car and in a somewhat awkward silence, the two of you got in and drove to the matcha place. The actual time in the cafe was… amazing.

Laughter and amicable conversation filled the whole evening as the two of you tried multiple foods and drinks together. Before you knew it, the sun set and you had to drop Yugyeom off at campus before returning to your apartment for the night, a pile of reading waiting for you to work on the next day. All throughout the next day, you felt as if you were floating on cloud nine, a dazed smile stuck on your face when you thought back on the time at the cafe.

It was only after not seeing Yugyeom around for a few days that you started to feel anxiety pool and bubble in you once again.

Did you do something wrong?

You’d given him your number… he knew where he could find you… why hadn’t you two talked since?

Suddenly, you started to feel jumpy and worried, reliving the moments at the cafe over and over again so see if there was something you possibly did wrong to make Yugyeom not want to associate with you again. Maybe it was because the two if you barely talked about shifters… You weren’t a common shifter and people often had trouble guessing normally but you are now on pheromone blockers as well and that adds a whole extra layer of befuddlement, but what type of shifter you were shouldn’t matter… unless was Yugyeom one of those shifters that didn’t like associating with predators?

No. Surely he couldn’t be that way.

Prey shifters didn’t often use pheromone blockers in the first place… he had to have known that you were some sort of predator… so that couldn’t be it… right?

Surly…

You sighed and shook your head to try to release some of the anxiety you were holding. It wasn’t good for you to hold it all in like this. There was barely any time for you to shift and relax lately and at this point. It would probably give you less stress to just find Yugyeom yourself and ask instead of dwelling on why the man hasn’t messaged you yet. You didn’t need people stress along with the regular school and shifter stress. But damn, you couldn’t stop dwelling on how stupid you were for not asking for his number in return.

Tiredly, you picked at the dinner in front of you, your body feeling the stress building. This wasn’t how you wanted to spend your Friday. You planned to go out later in your racoon form and run around for hours on end, but now that you were thinking more about it, maybe it would be good for you to spend more time in your shifter form this weekend. You didn’t want to return home yet. The apartment was empty and while normally you enjoyed the alone time, you felt the need to be around people today.

Maybe you could put your stuff in the shifter commons and wander around campus… although many humans didn’t enjoy seeing raccoons around so maybe it would be better if you stayed in the shifter commons so that no one got too startled by you. Most people wouldn’t bat an eye at an animal in the commons.

After picking at some more of your food, you put your dishes in a bin for the cafeteria staff and walked off, each step making you more excited for spending some time in your animal form. Inside the shifter commons there were probably a handful of people, some half-shifted and some chilling around in their animal forms.

“Hey Yejin!” You said with a smile as you made your way to Yejin (who was staffing the common today).

“Omg! Y/n! It’s so good to see you here today! I was meaning to ask, do you think you could take my shift Monday? Jisoo asked me out and Monday works best for them.” Yejin was smiling broadly as she spoke.

“Sure. Can you watch over my stuff? I want to shift and while I can still watch over it myself, with you here, I can wander more.”

“It’s a deal!” You responded eagerly, already putting your bag under her desk, your ears excitedly popping out.

Fairly painlessly, you shifted, your clothes falling around you as you grew smaller and smaller. As soon as you fully shifted, you felt relief flood you. In the back of your mind, there was still stress to worry about, but right now, you felt relaxed and relieved. You weazled out of your heap of clothes excitedly and watched as Yejin nudged them under the table with the rest of your stuff before running off to explore the commons. In your human form, the commons were a usual gathering place but as a raccoon, it was a jungle of excitement. Soon enough, you found yourself following your nose which had locked onto some tasty smelling food somewhere in the room. You weren’t likely going to get to eat the food but you’d be damned if you weren’t going to try. The smell led to someone you didn’t expect to see in the commons.

Yugyeom.

He hadn’t noticed you yet though and you had half the mind to turn around and explore elsewhere when someone he was next to pointed at you and started excitedly shouting.

“A trash panda! Omg! I’ve never seen a raccoon shifter before! Omg! This is so cool!” The man kept gushing as he stood up and looked at you closely, his eyes wide.

You got a strong dog wiff coming off of him and his intensity made you freeze. The man must have gotten the hint because the next second he was whimpering and closing his eyes slowly. Part of you wanted to laugh because most shifters still understood what people were saying but another part of you was comforted at how he tried to communicate with you. Slowly you closed your eyes as well before making grabby motions with your hands. You wanted to sniff him more.

He extended one of his hands, clearly understanding what you were saying, and you sniffed him slowly.

“Yugyeom! Come introduce yourself! It’s rude to just stare!” The man said, ushering Yugyeom to join the both of you in the ground.

Yugyeom slowly blinked at you and extended his hand which you happily sniffed, enjoying the comfort that washed over you with his smell. At this point, you were fairly positive that he knew who you were but he didn’t say anything.

“Oh! Would you be willing to at some point tonight, we will be here all night,” The man shot Yugyeom a look at that addition, “Come talk to us in your human form? I’d love to be friends with you!”

“Their name is Y/n, Jackson. We’re… we’re friends.” You relished as blush spread across his face as he spoke and nodded.

“Omg! This is the person that you were telling me--”

“Nope! Don’t continue!”

“That you want to ask on a date?”

Your world stopped and you felt your eyes widen in shock and excitement.

He wanted to ask you out.

You started to jump around and made excited squeaking noises, before you could stop yourself you jumped onto Yugyeom, excitedly scenting his arm.

Jackson started laughing happily, “I guess that means they want to go on a date with you too dude!

#got7writerscollective #wkcnet #got7 #got7 yugyeom #got7 x reader #got7 hybrid au #got7 fluff #got7 college au #yugyeom fluff #yugyeom x reader #yugyeom hybrid au #yugyeom college au #got7 angst #yugyeom angst #w: panic attack #flightlogproject

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yepiamthesmileyface · 3 years

Text

Just Friends(?)

[Image description: screenshot of an ask sent by @nemesis-is-my-middle-name reading “38 - Everyone thinks we’re already dating, but we’re just best friends- oh wait? (if ur taking prompts idk)” end image description]

Read it on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28347906

Going to a Denny’s after a case was always a gamble. On one hand, there was hot, cheap junk food at whatever ungodly time they wrapped up their investigation; but on the other, sometimes the Denny’s had specimens like this. Vivi sighed, shoving a huge bite of her pancakes in her mouth and trying to tune out the ravings of the old white man who had stormed up to their booth — at three in the morning, mind you — and started screeching about how you should be ashamed of yourselves, displaying such perversions in public!! and three people living in sin!!

Normally, Vivi would have at least been making snarky comments, if not actually challenging him to a fight for insulting her and her boys like that, but...she was tucked comfortably under Lewis’s arm, the hand that wasn’t holding her fork reached across and resting on Arthur’s thigh. Also, it was literally three in the morning, she was covered in mud and slime from chasing a giant frog-creature around in a nearby river, and she had been awake for twenty-one consecutive hours. She took another bite. The pancakes tasted extra good for the exhaustion and ache sunk into her bones, strawberry topping and whipped cream and thick fluffy pancakes and maple syrup...it was almost enough to get her to forget about the man shrieking at them. She glanced back over at him, idly noting that his face was turning an interesting shade of puce.

The waiter walked back over with the same jaded, unfazed look he wore when the three of them had staggered into the Denny’s, soaked to the bone and absolutely covered in muck. He folded his arms and stared at the old man. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re disturbing the other guests.” The old man turned to look at the waiter, puffing up not unlike the giant frog the Mystery Skulls had captured and returned to its actual habitat not half an hour ago, and rapidly deflating as he took in the completely impassive, almost dead-eyed stare of the late-night Denny’s waiter. He hurried out of the building, spitting one last insult about how they were all going to hell for living in sin. Given that he had used that particular phrase about nineteen times, it had kind of lost its fire, as far as Vivi was concerned.

Vivi felt some of the tension drain out of Lewis, and she turned her head, looking over at her boys. Lewis looked relieved and tired, catching her eye and smiling at her, soft and warm and completely unguarded. There was a streak of mud high on his cheek, almost matting in his no-longer-pristine hair. She smiled back, the expression billowing up like a balloon on a current of love, and reached up to wipe the smear away. Lewis leaned into her touch, and she cupped his cheek for a moment before wiping her hand on her skirt and leaning forward a little to peer around Lewis’s chest in order to check on Arthur. In contrast, Arthur looked like a live wire of tension, like he would either shatter or vault over the table and sprint away if anything else happened. Her smile dropped.

The waiter turned to them, ready with a scripted apology that actually carried a note of sincerity that Lewis quickly waved off. As he took care of talking to the waiter, Vivi leaned across him, patting Arthur’s leg quickly to get his attention.

Arthur jumped, nearly hitting his knees on the table. Vivi felt a little guilty, but quickly pushed through. “Hey. It’s alright. He’s gone.”

Arthur met her gaze, eyes wide and grin forced. His hair hung limp around his face, framing him beautifully in dark gold. “Y-yeah. Plus — plu-plus, h-he — was, wasn’t even may-making any, any, any se-sen-se.”

She bit her lip. If his stutter was coming out that strong, he was either much more anxious or much more tired than she thought. Probably a combination of both. Pulling up a warm, playful grin from the depths of her chilled bones, she said, “Yeah. I mean, his argument was both really painfully dumb and also really Christian-centric! I mean, hello, not everyone is Christian, I’m definitely not, so, like…”

Arthur continued on like he hadn’t even heard her, leg starting to bounce under the hand she just realized she never moved. “I me-mean, I mean, he — h-he — we, we’re — I mean, we’re jus-just, just friends. Wh— I do-don’t kno— I dunno why h-he tho-thougth we we-were —”

Vivi felt Lewis freeze under her, and she wasn’t far behind. She felt breathless, like she had been punched in the gut, like he had slapped her in the face instead of saying those three little words bouncing around her head. We’re just friends?! “Wait. Wait, what?!” The words came out closer to a whine than she would have liked them to, but she was too stunned to really care.

At the same time, Lewis gasped like he had been shot. “You’re — are you breaking up with us?!” He sounded like he was two seconds away from bursting into loud sobs in the middle of this Denny’s.

Arthur’s mouth dropped open, and he stared at them with eyes the size of dinner plates. A stunned silence fell over their booth, broken only by the wavering sound of Lewis’s breathing.

Before any more drama could happen, Vivi held up her hand, forcing the words out past the cold spot that had taken up residence between her lungs. “No. Nuh-uh. Arthur, one word answer, and we’ll talk about this all when it’s tomorrow. Are you breaking up with us?”

Arthur opened and closed his mouth a few times before volunteering a tentative, “N-no…?”

Her shoulders slumped as she let out an explosive sigh. “Alright. Let’s — tomorrow? Tomorrow, when we’re not all so tired, we’re gonna talk about this, yes?”

Arthur nodded slowly, still boggling at them for some reason. Vivi was too tired to puzzle his behavior over properly, so she just glanced up at Lewis, who also nodded, unwinding his arm from around her to wipe at his face.

The rest of the night seemed to pass in snapshots to Vivi’s tired mind. Their dinner being boxed up. Walking back to the motel, just across the parking lot. Patting Mystery on the head and telling him he’s a good boy yes he is. Collapsing face first into the delicious crisp coolness of the starched motel bed. Lewis’s deep, tired chuckle as he took her glasses off her face. The weight of another body next to hers, but not the two she had become accustomed to after countless nights on the futon in the van.

The next morning, she woke up slowly to the smell of coffee, and made to roll over so she could sit up. Instead, the world plummeted around her as she rolled right off the bed with a sharp, panicked yelp, caught in a devious trap of tangled blankets and sheets. A soft, almost stifled snort came from her left, and a pair of hands reached into the gordian knot of fabric, deftly untangling her. She squinted up at the blur of color and fuzz, the pale yellow-orange blur instantly recognizable as Arthur.

Vivi huffed, knowing full well he was smirking at her, the bastard. “Oh, like you’ve never rolled off the bed before.” She flailed her hand towards the bedside table, groping around blindly and not finding her quarry. “Where the hell’re —” A yawn interrupted her, wide enough to make her jaw crack.

The Arthur-blur disappeared for a second, and when he came back, he slipped her glasses into her hands, his hands nice and warm where they made contact with hers. “Lew had ‘em over on his side of the bed for some reason.”

She slipped her glasses on, and the world came into rose-tinted focus. “Thanks, Artie.” She looked around the motel room, noting a distinct lack of giant purple-headed fops and talking dogs, and frowned. “Speaking of, where is he?”

“He’s grabbing all our meds from the van, I think. At least, I’m hoping he’s grabbing all of ours, he just said he’d get the meds, but I didn’t —” Arthur cut himself off with a swig from his travel mug. “Oh, and Mystery took himself out for a walk a couple’a minutes ago.”

Vivi laughed. “He’s probably definitely grabbing all of our meds. Did he make coffee, or did you?”

“It’s from the breakfast buffet, actually. Burnt, but not horrible. Better than that place in Staccatto, anyway,” Arthur shrugged, walking over to sprawl on the couch. “I grabbed you a cup, too, don’t worry.”

“The mud we were wading around in yesterday woulda been better coffee than that place in Staccatto,” Vivi grumbled, picking herself up and making a beeline for the coffee. “I’m pretty sure it was dirt. At least fifty percent dirt.” Leaning against the wall as she drank, she picked at the feeling that she was forgetting something. Something important, not just the fact that she forgot to shower last night and as such was still covered in itchy, flaky mud and sweat and her socks were sagging down without fresh sock glue — she shook her head to clear it. She was forgetting something important, something that had happened the night before. The case had gone well, they were paid half upfront and they would get the other half later that day, Lewis was getting their meds, breakfast was either the buffet or leftovers...leftovers. Wait. Her eyes widened as the whole Denny’s escapade came back to her in a flash. The bigoted old man who had practically burst a vein yelling at them, Arthur’s comment about them being just friends — but he wasn’t breaking up with them, apparently???

Downing the rest of the coffee in one gulp, she glanced towards the door, then back to Arthur. She should wait, Vivi told herself sternly. She should wait for Lewis, because Lewis was an important part of their relationship, and he should not be left out of serious relationship discussions.

Luckily, she was saved from the antsy feeling creeping around under her shoulder blades by the sound of the door opening. Lewis ducked in, a tote bag bearing the logo of a kitschy tourist trap in his hand. He beamed as he noticed her, walking up and giving her a good morning kiss.

Vivi laughed, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him away lightly. “Lew, I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet! No morning breath kisses, we all agreed those were the worst.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Arthur start, but Lewis just laughed, walking over to the table and setting the bag down on it. He started to unpack, first his own rainbow pill caddy, then Vivi’s cylindrical one, and finally Arthur’s loose assortment of orange bottles. “Fine, fine. Meds, everybody, come and get it.”

Once they had all taken their various medications, and Arthur had been chided into using his coffee to take his meds instead of taking them dry, Vivi took a deep breath. “Okay. Boys, I think we need to have a serious conversation now.” Arthur stiffened, and his eyes darted towards the windows. Vivi immediately strode forward, sitting down on the couch next to him. “I will sit on you if I have to, Artie,” she warned him, only half joking.

Arthur sighed and slumped against the couch, covering his face with his hands. His ears were cherry-red, and Vivi couldn’t help but find it cute.

Despite the cuteness, she shared a worried glance with Lewis as he settled down on the bed across from the couch. Lewis shook his head, a worried frown pulling at his face. She took another deep, grounding breath, setting her shoulders and sitting up straight before she looked at Arthur. “Okay. Arthur. What was that last night? You — you said we were just friends,” and those words still stung like a winter wind, “But then you say you’re not breaking up with us?”

It came out a touch more accusatory than she wanted it to, and Lewis took over with a gentle, “We’re not mad, Arthur. Not disappointed, either, but — if you don’t want us to even say we’re dating when we’re in public, I wish you’d told us earlier. It’s okay if you don’t! It really is, I get it, but…”

Arthur went impossibly redder, and curled in on himself, drawing his knees up towards his chest. “I dndwrdn…” he whined, muffled by his hands.

“I didn’t catch that, sorry,” Vivi said, wrapping her hands lightly around his wrists and tugging gently, trying to get him to lower them.

Arthur took a deep breath, dropped his hands, and half yelled, “I didn’t know we were dating!!!” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, his hands shot back up so fast he practically slapped himself in the face.

Vivi sat back, stunned. He...didn’t know? How could he possibly not know?!

“I — I, I, you — you never asked!” Arthur yelped.

Oh, she had said that out loud. “What do you — Arthur, we asked you out two months ago!”

Lewis raised his hands in a T, using the same tone he used on his sisters when they were getting too rowdy. “Okay, you two, time out!”

They both fell silent, turning to face Lewis.

Lewis tilted his head, looking at their boyfriend. Who...apparently didn’t know that he was their boyfriend. “Arthur...do you really not remember? We asked you out when we were back home, almost two months ago.”

“Okay, yes, it was a month, four weeks, and five days, not two months, but I don’t think semantic arguments are gonna be a big help here, babe,” Vivi grumbled.

Arthur shook his head wordlessly, still hiding his cherry-red face.

A month, four weeks, five days, and a handful of hours ago…

“It honestly feels so weird not living out of the van, doesn’t it?” Vivi mused, taking a bite of pizza.

“It really does. I’d completely forgotten what it was like to be woken up in the morning by forty pounds of overenthusiastic child launched directly at my sternum,” Lewis laughed, rubbing at his chest.

“Lew, we’ve only been road tripping for three months. That’s a bit quick, big guy,” Arthur snickered, pausing to shove half a slice of his weird oyster pizza in his mouth.

“It was so nice, though! The most I had to deal with while living with y’all is your pointy elbows!” Lewis leaned over and mussed Arthur’s hair. A laugh bubbled out of Arthur as he batted at Lewis’s hand futilely, trying to save his cone of hair gel. Laughing, Lewis subsided, pulling back. “But, yeah, I woke up this morning with a Cayenne-shaped bruise right on my sternum.”

Vivi winced sympathetically, shaking her head. “Ouch. Did she mean to?”

“Nah. Just excited.” Lewis’s smile turned fond. “They missed me. Demanded souvenirs and made me sit down and be their personal giant teddy bear as they watched Moana for the eighth time. Then Paprika gave me about twenty bead bracelets. When y’all come to the Paradiso, she’s got your piles waiting.”

“She’s still doing bead bracelets?” Vivi asked, a note of excitement in her voice. The last time they had all gotten bead bracelets from Paprika, it was right after the Peppers had explained what transgender meant, and the three of them had all gotten a bead bracelet with the word transgender wildly misspelled, the pink, white, and blue of the flag slapped randomly on there. It was the best piece of jewelry she owned — hers said “trasgenner”, Arthur’s said “trainsgandr”, and Lewis’s said “trasgeneer”. Paprika had been very determined to do it on her own, and had just gone with her best guess on each one.

“Yep! She’s got one for both of you that has your favorite animal as a charm,” Lewis revealed, grinning.

“Perfect!” Vivi did a very restrained fist pump.

Arthur hummed, staring at the pizza boxes on the table. It was almost a full twenty seconds before he grabbed another slice. “That actually sounds really nice. Both the, the bracelets and the personal teddy bear Moana thing.”

“Honestly, it wasn’t bad at all.”

Silence descended on their table, comfortable and companionable. Vivi shut her pizza box, setting her elbows on the table and propping her head on her hands, studying the two in front of her. Butterflies were building in her stomach — they were just both so beautiful, the warm noonday sunlight making both her boys glow in different ways. Arthur looked like he was wreathed in gold, his hair and eyes shining the same color as the sunlight. On the other hand, the warm light brought out the full richness of Lewis’s skin tone and made his hair gleam like the satin of his ascot, as well as glinting off his sparkly magenta nail polish. She made eye contact with Lewis, jerking her chin towards Arthur and wiggling her eyebrows.

Lewis blushed, glancing at Arthur nervously. Arthur, completely oblivious, simply leaned back in his chair, eyes drifting closed. He didn’t look tired, or, at least, not drop dead exhausted, just relaxed, happy, and full, so Vivi took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders.

“So, Artie...there’s something we’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Arthur opened his eyes, meeting her gaze curiously. There was no undercurrent of nervousness in his eyes, and Vivi was warmed to the core by his trust in them — she had asked an extremely open-ended question. “Huh? What’s up?”

Lewis cleared his throat. “We want to ask you if...Arthur, would you like to go out with us?”

“I thought that’s what we’re already doing right now…?” Arthur looked adorably confused, brow furrowed as he looked between them.

Vivi shook her head. “No, like, as a date. Will you go on a date with us, and-or be our boyfriend?”

Arthur sat very still for a long moment (she wasn’t even sure he was breathing) before a grin unfolded across his face, as resplendent as the sun itself. “Yeah. I’d — I’d really love that. I — yeah. Yeah, I’ll go out with you and be your boyfriend.”

“Oh, perfect!” Vivi squealed, barely restraining herself from launching across the table and kissing him until he was more lipstick-mark than man. “When works best for you? Should we go somewhere in town, or wait til we’re on the road again? There’s this sushi place in Tremolo that I’ve just been dying to try, we should go there, if we’re waiting til we’re on the road again. Or just in general, it seems really good and I haven’t had good sushi in ages.”

Arthur tilted his head, clearly considering her words. His smile took on a wistful edge. “...y’know...I don’t really need all the fancy date stuff. Just...I’m happy to do what we’ve been doing, just...together. Having you guys be — being with you guys, romantically — that...that would be enough for me,” he said softly.

Lewis grinned over at him, soft and sappy, and opened his mouth. Before he could say anything, his phone rang in his pocket, and he pulled it out, grimacing a little as he checked the caller ID. “It’s Papá. Hold on, I gotta take this.” He stood up, stepping a bit away. Not a minute later, he stepped back, regretful smile firmly in place. “...sorry, guys. I’m needed back at the Paradiso for free childcare,” he joked.

“Aww…” Vivi was really only half disappointed. They had pretty much finished up lunch, only a few slices left between the three of them (none of them hers), and she had a shift at the Tome Tomb coming up soon, anyway. And, more importantly, they had asked Arthur out and he said yes! Their couple was now officially a polycule!

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. “I can — give you a ride. I gotta get back to Uncle Lance’s place anyway, I’m...” he trailed off, and Vivi waited maybe ten seconds for him to finish his sentence before accepting that he had lost his train of thought.

“Well, then...the Tome Tomb ain’t far, I can walk. I guess this is the end of our first date,” Vivi sighed. She stood up, standing on her tiptoes and pulling Lewis down for a chaste kiss before walking over and pressing a kiss to Arthur’s stubble-roughened cheek — familiar territory that should have been safe enough, she did that in the post-case exhilaration at least half the time.

Arthur blushed bright red anyway, and she left with a bright laugh, walking on clouds with the universe held in her hands.

A month, four weeks, five days, and a handful of hours after that…

Arthur groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Really?! I — guys, I had been awake for, like, two solid days at that point!”

“So you — you don’t remember us asking you out at all?” Lewis asked, shocked.

“No! Or — well — ki-kinda? I — kinda thought I was dreaming…” Arthur trailed off into muttering, fidgeting with his bracelets and not making eye contact.

Vivi paused for a moment, eyebrows creeping up. “Wow. Way to inflate our egos, there, Artie,” she joked.

“Wh— how am I inflating your ego?!” Arthur jerked his head up to look at her.

“We asked you out and you literally thought you were dreaming. We’re literally your dream partners!” She cackled.

Instead of laughing, Arthur rubbed the back of his neck, looking down, his words spilling out in a jumble. “Um. Y-yeah, actually...I — didn’t think it was — I, I mean, I’d, um I’d had dreams...like that...before. And...uh. Since then if I’m being honest.”

Vivi felt a blush rising in her cheeks, and she covered her mouth.

“That’s...that’s incredibly sweet, Artie…” Lewis managed, blushing harder than she was.

Vivi cleared her throat. “Sap,” she managed, shaking her head fondly.

Arthur took a deep, shaky breath. “So, um. Can...can we start over? On dating? I do — I really, really do want to date you guys, for real, I just...didn’t...know?”

“Of course!” Vivi and Lewis exclaimed in accidental unison.

“And this time you’ve definitely slept enough to be lucid,” Lewis added on lightheartedly. “You were snoring before I fell asleep.”

“Well…” Arthur smiled, lopsided. “I’m pretty sure I am, anyway. Lucid, that is — and how could you hear me snoring over Vivi’s, anyway? But, uh —”

“— Hey!” Vivi interrupted. “I don’t snore that loud!”

“You sound like a train, Vivs,” Arthur teased, before clearing his throat. “But, uh. Anyway. Wanna...wanna pinch me so I’m sure I’m not dreaming this time?”

Vivi smirked at him. “I’ll do you one better, actually.”

Before he could respond, Vivi leaned over, pressing a kiss to his lips. It took him a moment to react, startled, but he hesitantly started to kiss back after a second or two. There weren’t any fireworks, at least for her; if anything, it felt like being electrocuted, but in a good way, sparks shooting through her whole body, curling her toes and making her fingertips tingle. Arthur’s hand came up to grip at her sweater. Vivi kept the kiss chaste, and pulled back after a moment, glancing at Lewis.

Lewis pouted at her, a smile tugging at his lips and his voice. “Aww, I wanted to kiss him first, you got to do it at the restaurant.”

Arthur licked his lips, breath coming out a little funny, and swallowed hard before he got up and stepped towards Lewis, grinning crookedly. “W-well...consolation prize?”

Lewis let out a bark of laughter, startling Arthur into jumping a little, and pulled Arthur close with a gentle hand. “I can live with that,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss him.

Vivi settled back, watching her boys kiss from the lumpy motel couch. It felt like coming home, like kicking off her shoes and shedding her stress as easily as taking off her scarf. She ran her tongue over her teeth absentmindedly, and grimaced. “Whoops. Sorry, Artie, didn’t mean for our first kiss to be a morning breath kiss.”

Arthur broke away from the kiss he was sharing with Lewis to blink at her, swaying a little bit. “...huh?” he managed, brain visibly rebooting. “Oh! Uh. It’s okay, I don’t think I...noticed?”

“Still, it’s the principle of the matter,” Vivi wrinkled her nose, standing up. “I’ll be right back, you two keep doing what you’re doing.” She tossed in a wink for good measure, and made her way to the bathroom with the accompaniment of Arthur’s flustered squeak and Lewis’s deep, rich laughter.

#msa #mystery skulls #mystery skulls animated #lewvithur #vivi msa #vivi yukino #lewis msa #lewis pepper #arthur msa #arthur kingsmen #they're stupid your honor #aaaa sorry it's been like 8 kajillion years since you requested this #people talk to me #my writing #nemesis-is-my-middle-name

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kylorengarbagedump · 4 years

Text

Little Bird: Chapter 39 (NSFW)

Read on AO3. Part 38 here. Part 40 here.

Summary: The WHO probably doesn't recommend you do any of these things while pregnant.

Words: 9900

Warnings: tw: graphic depictions of big time violence, both physical AND sexual, DUBIOUS consent, voyeurism

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Hello, welcome back to my horror show! Hahaha.

Thank you very much for your patience in me waiting to get this chapter out. As you can tell, it is a beast. I genuinely hope you enjoyed it as apology for the long wait.

Cannot thank everyone's kindness and thoughtfulness enough. Your comments always, always brighten my day. I love y'all with my whole heart.

“So the plan is to flank them.”

“We’ll flank them here--Kuruk, Ap’lek, and you will take the east side. Cardo, Trudgen, and myself will take the west.”

“Where do we pull over, then? We won’t be able to get the Buzzard that close.”

The Night Buzzard was split into three sections--the front third was dedicated to food and supplies storage and an imitation of livable seating, the second third designated entirely for weaponry. The rear of the bus consisted of four stony, stripped bunks, beds in function only.

The Knights Templar--save for one, who was driving--had spent the past hour out of the six-hour journey at the front. They crowded over a map, debating their strategy while you watched, perched on the tiny couch across from them. Your Commander loomed beside you, silent, the knife of his gaze occasionally slipping over you, so sharp it slit you through his mask. He had hardly spoken a word since you’d boarded; the quick, piercing glances were the only evidence you had that he remembered you were there--a feat while stuck in close proximity on an armored bus.

“A five-hundred foot perimeter is typical.”

“Five-hundred feet gives them too much opportunity. The Buzzard has jammers.”

“Jammers don’t mask the sound of the engine, ‘Shar.”

“All right then, Vic, but the more space we give them, the greater chance they have of escape.”

Kylo Ren turned to them. “The primary objective is to destroy the subversives. Flank the encampment, salvage what documentation you can, kill any that cross your path.” He paused. “Leave Pryde to me.”

His voice was cold, even through the modulation. You sulked into the corner of the couch, anxiety knitting in your chest. To be near your Commander brought you a sense of peace, but the unanswered question of your future--your child’s future--left you lurching. You longed for a moment, two moments alone with him, an opportunity to search his eyes and find liberty in his response. Perhaps in a hormonal, pregnant haze, you’d imagined it like a prophecy: his large hands, curling around yours, his lip trembling with fear, his silence a concession. And you’d imagined the words swirling into your ears, granting you everything you’d grown to need.

I’m choosing you, he’d breathe.We’re free.

But staring at him now, hidden under a helmet, armored, toting a rifle and pistol, you weren’t sure where the man in your prophecy might be. You weren’t sure if that particular man had ever existed at all.

The bus shuddered, striking into rough terrain; beyond the tinted windows, you could make out a field blanched under the quarter-moon, wild maize exploding through the grasses.

“We’re about half a mile out,” called the driver--Kuruk, you thought.

At this, Kylo opened a cabinet and grabbed two devices--they beeped and hissed when he turned them on, and he fiddled with them both in a sort of calibration before crouching to be level with you. He pushed one into your hands, stowing the other one on his hip.

“This frequency is full-duplex. We will hear each other at all times. If someone unfamiliar to you even glances at the Night Buzzard, you will call for me.” He pinched your chin between leather fingers, angling your eyes into the void of his mask. “Do you understand?”

Your cheeks burned. You swallowed. “Yes, Commander.”

He huffed--static in the mask--and patted your cheek. “Good girl.”

As you blushed, he stood and crossed to the Knights. They steeped themselves in hushed discussion until the driver signaled their arrival. With a rumble, the Buzzard slowed, coasting to a stop behind a smattering of trees, and through the darkness, you could spy a collection of distant glowing lights, cold and artificial. One of the Knights murmured something about cutting a generator, and Kylo nodded. A brief, mustered agreement, and the doors opened, the soldiers filing out, leaving their leader behind. He turned to you a final time.

“The exterior is bulletproof. The door will lock.” His presence was heavy. You wished you could touch him. “At even a glance.”

“I know.” You gazed at the transceiver, its power light blinking like a heartbeat. “I will.”

Kylo held you under his stare for a lingering second before stomping down the steps and exiting the Buzzard. With everyone now gone, the air seemed stale. Empty. Sighing, you rose to your feet, dragging yourself to the driver’s seat and plopping into it, cradling the radio in your lap. The only noise filtering through the speaker was muffled static.

Though you could only see from several hundred feet away, the camp seemed unassuming, composed of a couple dozen military vehicles and a bunch of pitched tents that appeared half-packed away. They’d said the encampment was moving tonight--the Buzzard’s dash read 10:42 PM. Bodies bustled under the lights, Angels in black uniforms and armed with rifles carting indiscernible armfuls to store them on trucks. You scanned the fields, searching for your Commander, but found nothing. Kylo Ren and his men had disintegrated into the dark.

It started with a flicker--the camp’s lights fluttered like a flame--and a black veil swallowed the outer ring of the perimeter. The men in your sight seemed confused, not concerned, spinning to examine the issue, creeping forward. And then one dropped with a crack, the items in his arms tumbling free, his body folding into itself as it hit the ground. With firecracker panic, the camp erupted, soldiers revealing their rifles and whirling in sloppy formation, only to watch other comrades smack the dirt, shot dead in random, bloody heaps.

A coordinated effort was abandoned, and the Angels scattered, rifled roaches under dying halogen lights. But their attempts to hide were futile--the second they found shelter, another layer of lighting winked out, and they scuttled to the center, shooting volleys of gunfire in no particular direction. It was only then you caught them--the Knights, cutting through the camp like raven razors, collapsing tents and impaling bodies as they passed. A pair was back to back, twirling as one clotheslined two Angels and the other emptied a clip into an approaching squad. A third covered those two, winding around them and unleashing a full automatic round into the camp.

Then a sharp bang, white fire--you winced--the men in the camp stiffening in temporary paralysis. In their stupor, the other three Knights descended, sharks consuming a helpless meal, rending their prey into paper shreds. One Knight slit a man’s face from ear to ear, a crest of blood in the dirt, and twisted his knife into the back of his mouth. The man screamed into the sky, so loud you heard it from the Buzzard, and then through the transceiver, followed by echoes of furious voices demanding order in new, terrible chaos.

The horror picked up the pace of your heart--this was different than the times you’d watched Kylo. Their savagery was almost sadistic; a thought confirmed when two Knights paused their spree to watch an Angel wriggle like a split worm, kicking him as his blood clumped mud under his chest. You swallowed, tearing your eyes away as another section of lights died, plunging the entire camp into darkness. Shouting choruses of strained voices ripped through the radio, the only sign of activity the sparks of muzzle fire and shifting shadows under the moon.

Staccato pops pierced the speaker, and you jumped, focus darting between the device and the absolute nothing you could see beyond the bus. And then a voice, familiar--the man you remembered as Pryde.

“Took you long enough, Ren.” Another round of gunshots. “Three weeks to pin us down?”

Two shots, louder, closer. “Easier to find rats when they have nowhere to hide.”

“You’re willing to bet on that.” A single pop.

“Betting implies faith in the outcome.” A pause. “I don’t have faith. I have knowledge.”

A cacophony of shots staticked the speaker, and you clapped your hands over your mouth, silencing your squeals. You glanced out the window, still seeing nothing but the twinkles of the Knights’ massacre. Like dust, the exchange settled, someone panting over the channel. From the clarity of breath, it didn’t sound like Kylo.

“Impossible,” said Pryde. “There are cells that you can’t possibly--won’t possibly ever know about.”

“You’re willing to bet on that.”

Something crossed through a shaft of starlight, moving toward the Buzzard. You blinked, inching toward the dashboard. It was difficult to see in the darkness.

“You pushed Gilead too far.”

“I’m improving it.”

“Your improvements are borderline treason.”

“You’re heading a coup.”

Explosions of noise through the radio, a growling scrape--your throat tightened. The shadow was definitely human. It was definitely coming closer. Running.

You grabbed the transceiver, holding it to your mouth. “Um. Commander?”

The only response was static, a party of bullets through the speaker. Fear stabbed your chest, your pulse in your ears.

“It will never be treason to restore Gilead to God’s word.” Another crackle. “I’m righting your mistakes.” More gunfire. “This isn’t a coup, it’s retribution.”

“Commander,” you said, a little louder. “Sir.”

“You’ll need the support of the Council.”

It was an Angel. He was rushing the Buzzard with something, some sort of bag in his hand. It looked, maybe, wiry. It looked, in your mind, like a bomb.

Your heart careened--why wasn’t he listening, why wasn’t he answering--and you fumbled the radio, sending it tumbling onto the floor of the bus and under your feet. The light stopped blinking.

“Fuck.” You tried to kick it toward you, managing only to knock it under the seat. “Fuck! Kylo! Kylo!”

Of course, there was no response.

“You think you have the support of the Council? You’re no Snoke. You never will be.”

You scrambled to the floor, knees scratching metal. Reached for the transceiver.

“I killed Snoke.” A clatter of metal--you snagged the device and flung it toward you. “This is my destiny.”

Turning it on, you screeched, “Kylo please there’s someone running with a bag please help!”

The sound of a gunshot. An inhuman snarl. And the radio went dead.

“Kylo?” you said. “Commander? Sir?”

A shriek of fire erupted in the camp, spewing dirt and smoke into the air, and you screamed, shouting nonsense into the transceiver, as if this would summon him to your side. The explosion guttered in seconds, flames trickling to death, fog fading. There was no sign of the Knights. Or your Commander.

Your heart thudded. Something could’ve happened to him. He could be dead. But there was no time to process or consider it. You were alone in the Buzzard. With the Angel only coming closer. One hundred possibilities reeled through your mind--he could be escaping, defecting, taking this chance to denounce his chains--yet the only one you could consider was the one that involved him blowing you and the bus to whichever afterlife actually existed. Running wasn’t an option, if he did blow up the bus, with you being in the middle of nowhere and with no places to hide. There was only one other choice. Before anything and everything else, you needed to survive.

Steeling your jaw, you scrambled toward the second third of the bus, threw open the weaponry cabinets and stared at the assembly of rifles, shotguns, pistols, and other deathbringers. There was no leisure to figure out how to use a new type of gun--you barely knew how to use one. You snatched a pistol, testing its weight in your palm before fussing to find the safety. Your fingers found the magazine release instead--it popped out, revealing a full clip, and you silently thanked whatever divine being allowed that to happen, because there was no way you would’ve checked to see if the stupid thing had bullets. The safety was already disengaged. Swallowing, you wiped your palms on your robe and tramped to the exit, chin quaking while you flipped the lock and opened the door.

The summer air stuffed your lungs, and you wheezed through it, stumbling into the dirt. Holding your breath, you sidled up to the Buzzard, spying the Angel sprinting through the grass. Your hands shook, stomach churned. There was no way you’d nail this shot. Unfortunately, you had to try.

Teeth gnashing, you tugged back the slide and raised your arms, elbows locked, fixing the sight of the pistol on the shifting shade. To account for delay, you led the barrel in front of his path, following him for one second, and two. You pulled the trigger.

Rattled by force, the bullet went wide, whizzing into space, and you gulped, watching as the Angel paused, searching for its origin. You hunted for oxygen, but the air was thick, ears shrill with terror. Adrenaline drunk, you threw your arms forward, aiming again. Fuck it. He still wasn’t moving. This time, you wouldn’t miss.

Lip curling, you fired, wrists flung back, and the Angel yelped, dropping a knee. You had only seconds to celebrate before he turned straight toward you, and your blood froze. He struggled to his feet, hand moving at his waist--you panted, unable to stop the rapid vibration wracking your joints as you tried to aim again. In a zombie shuffle, he leveled his own pistol and sent off a shot, pinging the steel next to your head.

“Fuck!”

You clung to the side of the Buzzard, heaving now, clenching the gun in your hands. You wanted to get it together. He still had that bag in his arms, and now he knew you were here. You needed to get it together. With his injury, he was holding his gun one-handed--the recoil recovery would be your chance. Every pulse of your heart clouded your sight--you drew in a slow, deep inhale through your nose, ignoring the flighty feather of thought in the back of your mind:

Where the hell was your Commander?

Shaking it off, you adjusted your grasp and spun the corner, moving to aim--another shot glanced off the bus, and you shrieked, falling to your knees. Growling, fight-or-flight flaring, you tracked the Angel, determined to win, and pulled the trigger.

And nothing happened.

“What the fuck,” you said, and smacked the gun, like this would help. You tried to shoot again, but nothing. “What the fuck!”

Your failure was the Angel’s opportunity--you glanced up, his arm already raised.

Pop.

Wincing, you waited for the pain. But none came. You blinked, peering into the grasses, and spotted the Angel, crumpled to the ground.

Commander Kylo Ren broke through the night, a cyclone through the fields--relief flooded you, fleeing your lungs--he was alive. He was here. And he was charging you like a tank.

“Kylo,” you breathed, and clambered to your feet, pulling your lips in over your teeth. But he didn’t respond. Your fight-or-flight stalled in his approach.

Palms wet, your grip slipped and the gun smacked the dirt, shooting a round into the grass. You flinched, neck hot, made to grab it, but before you could reach, a gloved hand gnarled your hair and whipped you back, hauling you onto the Buzzard.

You yipped in pain. “Kylo!” Tugging at his fingers, you tried to pry free as he yanked you up the steps, but he tightened his grip, wrenching you forward and tossing you onto the couch. “Will you--”

His mask snapped with static--he seized your face, pinching your cheeks. “You seem to have a penchant for bullets,” he said. “If you’re so interested, I’ll put another one in you myself.”

You glared at him, pushing him off. “Are you kidding?” you said. “I thought he had a bomb!”

Kylo grabbed your face again. “He was carrying documents. And your solution was to begin a shooting match.”

“Who cares?” you spat. “You’re the one who didn’t respond to the radio!”

He growled. “You may care little for your own life, but you are--”

In the distance, tires squealed, a vehicle spinning into the field--his head snapped toward the front, and he pushed you free, striding to the driver’s seat.

Without a word, he revved the engine and threw it into gear, slamming on the gas and peeling through the grass, speeding in the other vehicle’s direction. You jolted with the terrain, seeking purchase on the couch, but he jerked the shift into low gear, motor wailing as he plowed through the plains. Thrown forward, you grappled with the table across from you, peering through the windshield, watching Kylo barrel into the night.

You knew that he was in pursuit of Pryde. But your conversation didn’t feel finished. In the back of your mind, alarms blared: evidence, evidence of your inevitable fate. The man in your prophecy was a stranger. The one in your reality hadn’t come when you’d called him. He seemed reluctant to choose you at all.

The Buzzard roared, its acceleration impressive for its size, chasing the speeding sedan, catching its rear in its headlights. Focused, Kylo shoved the gearshift forward, and the engine howled, flinging you back to the couch with a yelp.

“Stop moving.”

You frowned. “It’s not like there are seatbelts back here.”

The sedan cut to the left, zooming toward a highway, and Kylo growled. “Get up here.”

Gripping the sides of the aisle, you pulled yourself toward the driver’s seat, and when you met the back of the chair, Kylo reached around, wound an arm around your waist, and dragged you on his lap. You squeaked--before you could adjust, he hit the brakes and jerked the wheel; the Buzzard whined, teetering in protest, and Kylo tugged you to his frame, shifting under you to keep you both from hitting the floor.

Your face burned--despite your frustration with him, he was large and warm underneath you, his chest steady at your back. Swallowing, you grabbed his thighs, hoping to steady yourself, and if he noticed, he didn’t care, letting you cling while he focused on the hunt. The sedan bumbled across pavement, sliced through the highway, back into the fields--Kylo smashed the gas, and the Buzzard flew over the asphalt with a smack, bouncing you on his lap, sending heat to your cheeks. The distance from his prey was negligible, now; the car was some type of black Volkswagen, the license plate glinting in the glare of headlights.

Kylo stiffened and lowered the window, buffeting you with gusts of syrupy air, and grabbed your hands, tacking them to the wheel. “Steer.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait--”

He brandished his pistol and stretched out--you jostled over his thighs--lining up a shot as you bore down on the car. Gritting your teeth, you kept the Buzzard straight as it rumbled over the dirt, and he tensed, firing two shots, blowing out his target’s rear tires. The Volkswagen whirled, a tornado in the grass spiraling toward you, set to collide with your front-end; you thought to do nothing else but swerve and spin the wheel. The sharp curve pitched the bus off of its side, and you cursed, the both of you thrown toward the steps.

A strong arm barred your waist, catching you and wresting you back, and a leather hand encompassed yours--Kylo slammed the brakes, righting the tires as the bus screeched to a stop feet away from the car, rocking you both into the driver’s side, his hold buffering you from injury. You panted, face and flesh hot, head airy; in the grass, Pryde scrambled from the Volkwagen into blinding light, a crimson streak through his scalp. He ducked, took cover behind his car and drew his pistol, lodging two shots in the windshield. You yelped--there was no chance to speak before Kylo pushed you off, his own pistol in hand as he shouldered his way through the bus door and into the glow of the Buzzard’s headlamps.

Pop, pop--the fire stalled your Commander’s advance, and he shielded himself with the bus’s body. Emblazoned with righteous furor, Pryde shot again, burying a bullet in the frame.

“You’re an idiot, Ren. You’ll do this forever. I won’t be the last.” From your height, you could see Pryde fussing with something. He must not have known you were there. “As long as you go against God’s plan, you’ll never win.”

Then he tossed whatever was in his hand, covering his eyes--a stabbing flash eclipsed your sight, its detonation drowning your ears, and you gasped, seething, curling at the waist. When the noise died, you groaned, rubbing the artifacts from your vision, peering into the field. In the seconds you’d been stymied, Pryde had disappeared. Your Commander shot into the car--nothing--and crept through the grass, head on a swivel.

Spits of gunfire from the driver’s side of the Buzzard, and Kylo juked back, landing them on opposite sides of the bus in a stand-off. You chewed your lip. Pryde definitely didn’t know you were there. And there was still a cache of guns in the cabinets. Turning, you snuck through the aisle--but when you reached the storage, a hail of bullets crackled from the Buzzard’s rear. Despite being inside, you bowed, heart in your stomach, pulse pounding with fear. You needed to keep going.

Swallowing, you threw open the door to the cache, plucking another pistol from its hook. You remembered your near-follies earlier: magazine, check. Safety, check. Slide pulled back, check. More sweat on your palms. Cursing to yourself, you wiped them on your robes again, shuffling to the front--and then another blast, another searing light. You hissed, knees buckling, gunshots echoing through your ringing ears. A grunt escaped you, your jaw tense, and you shook off the pain, forcing yourself to look through the windshield. Your eyes adjusted, unfuzzing, just in time to see Enric Pryde raise his gun and shoot your Commander twice in the chest.

It happened in split seconds. Kylo staggered, impact hampered by his bulletproof vest, his gun falling into the grass; you trapped a scream, your muscles burst with adrenaline. Bungling the pistol in your grip, you scaled the driver’s seat, blood soaring, brain baffled--you were doing this again you were seriously doing this again--and leaned out the window. Pryde approached, raised his weapon, training it on Kylo, and in that instant, your mind cleared, annoyance and worry and terror swallowed with rage, all of it coalescing into a single, solitary thought:

That’s my child’s father, asshole.

You steadied your arms, pulled the trigger--your ears trilled, elbows bowed--and Pryde howled, knee slamming the dirt. Pinching your lips together, you fought the urge to tremble, preparing to shoot again, but Kylo had already recovered. He lunged, tackling Pryde to ground, the other man’s pistol sailing into the air and disappearing into the dark.

Pryde twisted underneath your Commander’s weight, trying and failing to throw him off. “God doesn’t make exceptions, Ren!” Kylo clocked him in the jaw, and he choked, sputtered. “Gilead will never accept you making a whore your--”

Kylo’s fist clobbered his face, striking him over and over and over, blood spewing from his mouth, his nose, over his chin. You couldn’t sit down, something strange tingling your neck under the knowledge that the mention of you made him snap: a sick glimmer of affection, of hope. A disgusting delusion that, perhaps, he really could choose you. Bone cracked, Pryde’s cheek collapsed, and Kylo stopped, heaving, arm reeled back.

The older man wheezed, skull pulverized to a mess of meat. “Go ahead and kill me, Ren. But there’s no such thing as destiny. The longer you try to fight God’s design, the greater you’ll lose.”

“Interesting theory. But God doesn’t design Gilead.” Kylo glanced at you, still bent out of the Buzzard. Your heart fluttered--without him having to say it, you knew what he was asking. With an underhand, you lobbed him the gun, and he snatched it from the air, jammed it against Pryde’s broken chin. “I do.”

Pryde gagged, red drool dribbling from his lips. “You’re the devil.”

“Yes.” Kylo’s voice was mechanized malevolence. “I am.”

Pop. Blood spattered his visor, Pryde’s head lolled in the grass. At the same time you exhaled, slumping into the driver’s seat, your Commander’s shoulders bunched, then fell. He hung there, hovering over his victim. Silent, he stared for a moment before he rose, pistol in hold, and crossed to the bus.

You should have felt relief as the door opened and he stepped onto the Buzzard--his enemies vanquished, a victorious soldier, your body the spoils--but when he towered over you, your ribcage constricted with dread. Pryde’s words looped through your mind.

You’ll do this forever. I won’t be the last. The longer you try to fight... the greater you’ll lose.

They nagged you, clawed at the wrinkles of your brain. Because despite their origin, you knew--despite not wanting to know--that they were very, unfortunately, true. And if you knew that, then part of Kylo had to know that, too. Part of him had to know how shallow this victory was.

He flicked a switch on the dashboard, and picked up a wired transmitter, spinning a knob until static fizzed from the Buzzard’s radio. “Target eliminated,” he said, and reported a pair of coordinates. “Your status.”

Another voice came through the speaker--one of the Knights. “Documentation obtained. Encampment neutralized. En route shortly.”

Without a word, he flicked the switch and replaced the transmitter.

“Um. So.” Shifting in the seat, you gazed at him, seeking his eyes through the visor. “Will this ever stop?”

A tired hm was all he offered.

You sighed, pulling the robe closed over your chest. “I mean, will you always be fighting just so we can be together?”

He stood, solid, staring. Or not staring. It was too difficult to tell. Either way, he said nothing.

“I know that’s what you want.” You shrugged. It was easier to look at him when you didn’t know if he was looking back. “For us to be together. But this isn’t going to work.”

His head tilted a single millimeter. “Work.” It was more of a question than a statement.

“If this is what it’s going to be, then it won’t work.” The words hung, heavy in the air, and you paused, waiting for his response. You received none. So you continued. “There’s another way, though.” Leveling him with your gaze, you held your breath. “We can just leave.”

Kylo snorted, turning into the aisle. “We don’t need to leave.”

“We do.” You shook your head. “He’s right, Kylo.” You crossed your arms. “I hate to say it, but he’s right. You have to realize that you can’t make this perfect. It’s broken.”

“Of course it is.” He returned the pistol to the weapons rack. “It’s broken because I’m not finished.”

You frowned. “Well, it really doesn’t matter what you do,” you replied, “if it involves Gilead at all, then I don’t want it.”

He spun on his heel. “You don’t want it?” he asked, voice rising. “Is this not enough?”

Raising a brow, you caught a laugh in your chest. “Of course it’s not enough! How could it be? I told you--I’ll always want more.”

“More? More than what?” Kylo stalked through the aisle, heel-ball-toe. “Haven’t I kept you safe?” He was a black condor, cornering you in the driver’s seat. “Fucked you well?”

Heat seared your face. “It was because of you that I was in danger anyway!” Shaking your head again, you allowed your chest to puff out in indignance. “None of it is enough when you’re free, and I’m not.”

“No,” he said, “you were in danger because of imperfection. People assigned to the wrong roles. People failing to fulfill the roles they were meant to fill.” He edged closer. “Freedom is inconsequential under perfect design.”

“Your design is bullshit, your roles are bullshit!” You jumped to your feet, bumping his breast, and his shoulders tensed--but you ignored it, and pushed past him into the aisle. “As long as you try to force things on people, they’ll never be happy.” Flustered, you gestured toward him. “Hell, you’re not even happy! I know you aren’t!”

The prophecy seemed distant and comical, now. But the inevitability of this reality was almost too painful to admit--the fact that despite your pregnancy, he was still unwilling to forgo his stance. The facts were that you would never be with Kylo Ren, he would never know his child, you would never be allowed to have him, and he would never understand your needs.

Dozens, hundreds, thousands of nevers welled in your throat, flooded your eyes, nevers that never should have been, and nevers that never would be. Never whispering his name, never waking up in his arms, never seeing him cradle his child, and never falling asleep next to him in a future where he was your home and your family, a future where you would feel his lips on yours, naked in your shared bed, feeling safe, feeling secure, feeling loved.

Your throat was tight. “I’m… I’m pregnant, Kylo. I don’t want to raise my child in a world where it can’t know choice. I don’t want to fulfill whatever you believe my role is!” Scanning him, you stiffened your jaw, and his fists tightened, his leather gloves squelched. “I want to be with you. I do. But it can’t be like this.” Steel sharpened your tone. “As long as you have Gilead, you’ll never have me.”

You pivoted, stepping toward the back of the bus--but a leather-bound hand grasped your neck and whipped you back, curled you against his chest, a metal muzzle at your face. Frowning, you squirmed, and he halted you with ease, subsuming you in his strength.

“That’s where you’re mistaken.” The sound coming from the mask was not one you recognized. “I already have you.” His free hand skated down your stomach. “I’ve already won.”

“Get off of me, Kylo.” You moved again, but he shook you in his hold.

“You said it yourself,” he replied. “You wanted this. You wanted my child.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Your skin tingled from his proximity, from the electric silk in his voice. “You have my body. That doesn’t mean you have my mind.”

“So you say. Yet you pulled a gun on Pryde. You helped me end his life.” He huffed, a human rumble in his throat. “Who would do that other than someone who wanted what I wanted, too?”

You tried to shake your head, stuck in his grasp. “I don’t want what you want.” Something flickered low in your abdomen. “I don’t want to fulfill a role.”

Kylo shifted, his hand sliding from your neck into your hair, coiling around it. “You already are fulfilling your role.” Every word forced you to resist the urge to whimper. “You want to be mine. And you want it so badly that you’re willing to forsake everything to have it.”

Shame streaked through you, hotter than hell itself, and you cried out, shoving him back, only for him to grapple you and flatten you along the pantry chest first, smothering you, stoking horrified heat under your flesh. He wrenched your arm behind your back with ease, his boots framing your feet, his hips pinning your backside.

“Don’t deny it,” he said. “You know I’m right.”

“No.” Most of you was sure he wasn’t right. But the tiny twinkle that shivered at the thought of forever being his, no matter the cost, agreed. Your chin trembled. “You’re wrong.”

Another rumble, deep in his chest. “Am I?” His pelvis pressed against you. “You’re willing to deceive Johana. Manipulate the Resistance.” One hand wagged your scalp, the other holding your hip as you wiggled under him. “You’re willing to watch others die. You’re even willing to kill.”

“Stop.” You panted, hating the rush of excitement to your thighs, hating that his words were making sense. “That’s not--that’s not how it is.”

“But this is how it works.” A slow exhale left him. “Neither of us have ever had choices. You realize that, now. This is who we’re meant to be.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m not.” Kylo’s fingers dug into your hip. “You’re meant to be mine. And I’m meant to own you, to own all of this.” He inhaled, the noise hollow in his helmet. “You’re never escaping me.” His weight compressed you along the cabinet, shortened your breath. “And I’m never letting you leave.”

Terror exploded into wrath. It couldn’t be true. “No!” You writhed underneath him, but he weighed on you like a boulder. “Fuck! Get off of me!”

A low, quiet noise of amusement knocked in his throat. “Poor thing. You want to avoid it. But this is what you want.”

“No, it’s not!”

“It is.” He nuzzled his helmet against your head. “You’re as much me as you ever were. The only difference…” He hummed, hand at your hip massaging the flesh. “I admit who I am.”

Desire thickened your throat, your heart crumpled in despair. How dare he, how dare he make you believe he cared for you--then reveal it was a ploy to land you exactly where he’d wanted. And nothing he said had been wrong. Despite your best intentions, your earnest efforts, there was still no one’s life you cared to save--outside of your own--other than his. You tried to steady your lungs, ignoring the rising urge to have him even closer.

“I know who you are,” you said. “I know you’re better than this.”

“You do?” Kylo Ren snickered. “You’re mistaken, angel. Didn’t you hear what he said?” His muzzle, cold carbon, met your ear. “I’m the devil.”

A surge of lust swirled in your belly, and you screamed, thrashing, trying to throw him off. He ceded an inch, and you shouldered him back, only for him to wrap his hand around your throat and spin you, back smacking the cabinet. One arm framed your head, the other driving into your chest, and you swallowed against him. Scowling, you stared into the empty facade of his mask.

Even in his assuredness, you would never tell him how deep you’d fallen--it was the final thing he couldn’t take. After all, every other line you’d meant to draw had long been washed by the waves of your selfish hunger. Hunger that, even in this moment, barked with greed.

His mask tilted, dipping over your figure--your robe was askew, revealing half of your breast, your stomach peeking through the gap--and his grip on your neck tightened, fuzzing your pulse. Your knees weakened, even as you hoped to raze him to the floor with your eyes. Kylo huffed with restrained excitement.

“Mm. You’re trembling.” His thumb stroked your wild heartbeat. “You’re hot.”

“Fuck you,” you said. “You’re disgusting.”

“Perhaps I am.” The hand above your head slipped under your robe, leather skimming your skin. “But we both know how you love to revel in filth.”

Air caught in your chest--this bastard--you rolled your tongue in your mouth, jaw tense, and you sucked in a breath, spitting a fat glob straight onto his mask.

Kylo hissed, lifting you by the neck until your feet dangled, slamming your skull into the cabinet. You grunted, digging the heels of your palms into his shoulders, kicking his stomach--but he was a mountain, immune to your timid storm. His sheer size neutralized your effort, and he leaned close, flattening you along the pantry, paralyzing your limbs.

“If you know what’s good for you,” he purred, deadly soft in the mask, “you’ll clean that up.”

Hunger wasn’t barking, now. It was howling. And you wanted to stoke its appetite.

“You’re right,” you replied. “How rude of me.”

Smirking, you gathered another wad of spit at the top of your palate--and after a long, obvious scrape of your throat, you hocked it at his eyes.

Hurled through the air, you crashed into the aisle, feeling footsteps quake the floor. You spun onto your ass, scurrying backwards on your palms, Kylo chasing you in long, livid strides. You heaved, heart pounding, crawling until your back connected with a metal frame. One of the beds. Before you could think to dodge, he ripped you up by your hair and onto your knees, slapping you hard across the face.

“Nasty little bitch.” His grip curled at your scalp, his other hand groping his now-obvious arousal. “You must have forgotten what your mouth is for.”

You sneered. “I’m fairly certain it’s for cursing you.”

White pain whacked your cheek, and he shook you back to reality, your vision swimming. He’d undone his belt, and pulled free his angry, erect cock. “Drop your jaw, little bird,” he murmured. “Before I break it off.”

When you hesitated, Kylo drove his thumb into your mouth and hooked it behind your teeth, tugging it down to receive his length. You stared at him, contempt simmering in your eyes, exhilaration careening through your blood. Of course you were infuriated with him, but this only seemed to incense your passion, rather than dampen it--perhaps, in that way, you were like him, too. As his cock slipped over your tongue, you let loose a soft moan, and he released you, allowing you to seal your lips around his thick, heavy shaft.

Both hands shot into your hair, holding you still while he rocked into your mouth, and you hummed, gazing into his visor, wondering what he looked like behind the mask. Your tongue pressed to the underside of his dick, earning a growl from his chest, and he jerked your neck back, sliding in deeper.

“Use your hands,” he said. “Unless you want me to fuck your throat.”

You rolled your eyes--but encircled the base anyway, struggling to fully wrap around his girth. Groaning, your lids fluttered while you drooled onto him, slicking your saliva down his length, bobbing your head while you struggled to keep your attention trained on his face. His cock filled your mouth, the tip poking your soft palate, and you sucked, revealing in his sharp intake of air as you tightened your grip. Even if you never did this again, having him in your mouth was a feeling you’d take to your grave--the hot silk skin at your lips, the pulsing on your tongue, the sore stretch to your jaw--all of it made you throb, made you ache for more.

“Mm, that’s right.” He adjusted his grasp, urging you back and forth on his cock, making you gag. “Much better than hearing you speak.”

Narrowing your lids, you pulled your lips back, letting your teeth catch on his shaft--Kylo grunted and jerked out of you, backhanding you in the jaw. You wailed, your sight spun with pain, but your cunt was soaked, dripping and clenching with your escalating need.

“Fuck y--” you began, before he yanked your head back and shoved his dick down your throat.

You retched, choked, vision flooding with tears, but with him handling your hair like reins, he trapped you there, your mouth a helpless hole for him to fuck. He snapped his hips, his dick bulging in your neck, his breath labored with the pace of his thrusts. Sweat spilled down your back, and you retched again as his cock twitched on your tongue, cranked your jaw wide, plunged in and out of your throat.

“You pretend to fight.” The words were husky under modulation. “But you love it. You’re a slut for my cock.”

Under the noise of your groaned assent, you heard it: beyond the perimeter of the Buzzard, an unmuffled motor, advancing fast. The Knights had arrived. A thrill lit up your spine; perhaps it was the anger with your Commander--a spiteful need to make him jealous--or the fact you were more aroused than you’d been in weeks, but the thought of being caught by them, just like this, flashed fire at your neck and between your legs. You whimpered with anticipation.

But if Kylo had noticed, he didn’t seem to care--he clutched your head, reveling in the wet warmth of your throat as you swallowed around him. Voices echoed in the stark night air outside of the bus, growing closer, and you imagined them seeing you as they walked in fresh from battle: a moaning, wanton whore on her knees, sucking their leader’s cock.

It was too much--your fingers dipped between your legs, and you teased your clit, sobbing in pleasure. Your Commander growled and pulled out, tucking himself away, and you sputtered, both hands bracing the floor while you gulped down oxygen.

“Dirty fucking slut.” He crouched, elbows on his knees, and grabbed your face. “You want them to watch me fuck you.” His thumb traced your swollen lower lip. “Don’t you?”

The doors to the bus opened. And your smirk drew up in a sneer.

“If you think you can handle other men looking at your property.”

Kylo Ren seized you by your hair again. “I can do more than handle it.” Standing, he hoisted you to your feet. “I’ll order it.” He tossed you into the aisle with such force that you stumbled, knees scraping the floor.

The Knights ascended the steps, stopping mid-board. Humiliation scorched your nerves, you strangled a moan at the thought of how you must appear--robe splayed open to reveal your underwear, your face moist, hair mussed--and how obvious it would be to them what you’d just been doing. You swallowed your desire as the half that had climbed onto the bus now stood in silence observing you, a broken-wing bird, at the mercy of her ravenous Commander.

“Get on. Sit down.” Kylo’s voice was eerily calm behind you--the Knights filed in, stuffing themselves together around the tiny table and couch. “This is your entertainment, tonight.” His boots resonated with his approach. “If there’s even an inch of movement toward her, I will bleed you dry on the Buzzard and leave your body for worms.”

They nodded, but did not reply.

“Now.” He wove his fingers through your hair again, and you winced, scalp tender. But he whirled you around anyway, shoving your nose into his crotch. His cock strained against his pants. “Where were we?”

You bit your lip, sliding your hands up his strong thighs. “I don’t remember, Commander.” What you were doing was incredibly devious, and certifiably insane. But the thought of embarrassing him in front of his men was a small salve on your fury. And the temptation of the consequences had your body demanding more. “It must not have been very... impressive.”

Kylo snarled and slammed your back to the weapon cabinet, grinding his covered cock into your face. “What was that?” he said. “Answer carefully.”

Heartbeat in your ears, you mouthed at the fabric of his pants, gazing at him. “I said,” you replied, nuzzling the bulge with your cheek, “that it must not have been very--” you dragged your tongue along the length, “--impressive.”

“Hm.” His hand drifted from your head to your throat. “That’s what I thought.” He clamped down, knocking your skull on the cabinet and compressing your artery, and you wheezed, pressing your thighs together. “Strip.”

You stared into his mask, blood beating at your temples--you wanted to speak, but found no words.

“Hurry,” he said, “before you pass out.” The pressure increased. “Or I’ll have to do it for you.”

Now woozy, the back of your brain dared you to let him do it, but you figured passing out wouldn’t be smart to do while pregnant (getting slapped, thrown, and choked, however, apparently fine). You shuffled your robe down your shoulders, vision blurring while you unlatched the hooks on your bra and shimmied it onto the floor. The last articles were your boots and underwear, which required you to wriggle in his hold, the movement eating the edges of your sight--and then they were gone, and he released you, waiting as you collapsed, naked, against the storage.

The Knights’ heads were aimed toward you--and to your surprise, at least two were already rubbing themselves through their pants. Your cunt pulsed.

“Now.” A gloved hand slid into your hair again, leather tugging at the strands, while his other hand wrestled free his hard cock, the tip gleaming with pre-cum. “Where were we?”

He rammed into your mouth, and you shuddered, ignoring the urge to vomit, your delighted moans hiccuped by the vigor of his strokes. Drool doused your chin, coated your lips, and your bleary focus wandered to his soldiers, one of whom had leaned back, his chest rising, another palming himself faster. They were watching you, watching you get throat-fucked by the man who owned you, watching as you bloomed a film of sweat, watching as you loved it, your pleading, wretched face begging to be abused.

“See how badly they want you,” he muttered. “But you’re mine. It’s all--fuck--all for me…”

Another reminder--Kylo Ren was going to keep you, he did not want to let you go, and would never, ever see you as you saw him--but you ignored it, choosing to suffocate yourself in desire instead, to stave off this stupid fucking reality where you were a stupid fucking slave in stupid fucking love with her stupid fucking Commander.

Eager to dust away the cobwebs of your misery, your hand snuck between your legs, ghosting over your folds to tease your clit, and you groaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Kylo snickered.

“Look at you,” he said. “Such a whore for me. Willing to--to make yourself cum in front of a group of masked men.” He jammed his dick deep, pressing your nose to his pubic bone, and you flailed, choking on him. “Is that what you want, slut? For everyone to know what you look like when you cum?”

You tried to nod, or to agree in any way--because yes, fuck yes, you wanted his men to watch you cum for him, to have them envy you and him and have them stroke their cocks and spill their seed while they dreamed of fucking your pussy and--

Perhaps pregnancy hormones were more powerful than you’d initially thought.

Kylo slipped out of you again, and you gasped, panting, wiping the sheen of sweat from your forehead, smearing the spit from your mouth. It had already dribbled onto your tits. Every part of your body felt swollen, and every part of your body wanted release. A leather finger tilted your chin toward his visor.

“Then we’ll make you cum.”

He laid you out on the aisle and spread your legs, and you craned your neck back, meeting a wall of the Knights, seated in a half-circle, all focused on you. You licked your lips, hoping to entice them--and then two gloved fingers pried open your folds, and before you could brace, they drove in, filling your pussy. Crying out, you shivered, clenching around him, hips gyrating to seek more of his touch.

Kylo’s breath quickened, his thumb circled your stiff clit, pleasure sweeping over you, and you twisted your neck, wanting a better view of the front of the bus. One of the Knights was guiding two digits up and down his shaft, another working himself free, the rest now prepping themselves, waiting to touch their cocks. The sight shuddered you, made you writhe, made your core throb and your flesh burn.

“Desperate whore.” He swirled your nub faster--you throttled a moan. “See what I do to you.” His fingers curled and twisted inside of you, petting your walls. “You’re ready to cum for faces you’ve never even seen.”

“Jesus.” Three of the Knights were stroking themselves, now, one of them fully fisting his shaft, pumping it in rhythm with Kylo’s hand. Heat blazed your thighs, forcing you toward ecstasy. “Fuck. Commander…”

Kylo grunted, a needy noise in his throat. “There we go,” he said. “Who else can make you cum like this?” He snapped his wrist, a third gloved finger pushing inside of you, his thumb tracing your clit, and you whined, back arching, air cycling faster in your lungs. “Tell me you want to stay.” You heard a soft shuffle beyond your waist--you knew he was jerking off. “Tell me, and I’ll let you cum.”

Flames flicked your neck, ire popping your bubble of bliss. Did he think he was winning? You swiveled to meet his vacant gaze. “I can cum whenever I want.”

Switching motions, he scissored you wide, drawing zig-zags on your throbbing clit. “Don’t test me.”

You snarled and rolled, his hand pulling out when you staggered to your feet. It didn’t matter, in that moment, that you were naked and he had the capability to pulverize you under his heel--you wanted to piss him off, wanted him to feel even a fraction of the frustration that you felt, wanted him to destroy you as desperately as you wanted to destroy him.

Kylo stood, his arm shooting toward you, and you slapped him away, spitting at him again--he snagged your wrist and thwacked your cheek, and you howled, daggering your knee into his thigh. A feral noise tore through the mask; he clasped the back of your neck, lifting and smashing you into the weapons cabinet, massive chest pinning you there.

“Get off!” You pounded your fist into the helmet, pain echoing to your elbow. “Fuck!”

He grunted, collected your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head, the other shoving two fingers into your mouth until he reached the back of your tongue. “Be good,” he said, “or I’ll do whatever I need to do to make you.”

You leered at him, steeled your jaw, and bit down on his hand.

Before you could breathe, that hand crushed your throat, and he knocked your thighs apart with his knee, impaling your cunt on his cock. He drove into the hilt with a growl, and you sobbed in pleasure-pain against his grip, a sharp sting, your pussy stretching for his thick, hard length. Kylo pumped into you, ruthless, primal, his chest swelling with rapid air, as if he was possessed, every thrust pushing shaky noise from your lungs.

“That’s right.” His hips collided with yours, thumb toying with your pulse, his voice ragged with desire. “Now you’ll behave, won’t you?”

Whimpering, you gasped, the unsteady bloodflow buzzing your lips and cheeks. He flattened your wrists to the cabinet, grinding your joints to the aluminum, his weight compressing your ribcage, his strength holding you still. The drag of his dick inside of you was enough to make you wail, but the ferocity, the animalistic savagery in his thrusts had your cunt throbbing, spasming, ready to cum without him touching your clit. In seconds, he’d tamed you, drenched you in sweat, submerged you in ecstasy, dangling you at the edge of submitting to his authority.

Kylo eased off your neck. “Look at them.”

Straining, trembling, you did--and met six men, all huffing, all enraptured. Two had stood, hunched as they stroked their cocks, others leaned back, fucking into their fists, another one trailing his palm up and down his shaft. You ruptured with lust and groaned in satisfaction, throwing your legs around Kylo’s waist, taking the brunt of his fast, vicious thrusts.

“Fuck, yes.” He brutalized your cunt, hammering into it. “They want you. They want what I have.” Like a spark, you felt it--his gaze meeting yours from behind the mask. "They envy me. Am I not enough?”

You wheezed, drawing in quickened air. “N-no,” you said. “And you--you alone n-never will be.”

His fingers bit your flesh--he lifted you from the wall, supporting your ass and cradling your skull before he crushed you onto the aisle, sliding his cock deep into your wet cunt. Kylo hissed in pleasure as you sheathed him to the base, gliding out and driving in, skin smacking while he tugged you into his heaving, rabid frame.

“Fucking whore,” he muttered, burying the muzzle of his mask in your neck. “Why do you want to leave?” The words were pins through his teeth. “Why do you always want to leave?”

You wanted to respond, but the pace of his hips stole your breath, your words, your jaw dropped with pathetic whines. All you could do was let him fuck you into the floor, body bouncing with his force, elated to exist as a loyal, greedy hole.

“I’m going to destroy you,” he growled. “I’m going to split this pussy wide, and I’m going to pump you full of cum.” He groaned, shivering from his own words. “And when I’m done, my men will cover you in it, bathe you in it--fuck--like the filthy, vile slut you are.” The hand at your head grasped your hair, scraped your scalp, the other slipping between your legs, expertly rubbing the engorged bundle of nerves. “Now beg to cum.”

“God!” You squirmed in delight, orgasm swelling inside of you, begging to gush out over your flesh. But you wanted, needed just a little, tiny bit more. “Fuck you!”

Kylo leaned up, bolted one hand to your waist, while the other reeled back and cracked you like lightning across the face--your mind went black, your eyes went white, and inside of your mouth, your teeth went red.

“Beg for it!” He pummeled your pussy, stroking your clit, jerking you into each snap of his hips. “Fucking beg!”

“Christ!” At the edge of your sight, you could see the Knights, their cocks pink and throbbing, all ready to cum, all ready to shower you with it. “Please, please Commander, please make me cum!”

His hand shifted, a gloved seam skated your nub--you shattered, back lifting from the aisle, limbs trembling as euphoria burst into your blood. The pain, the violence, the passion, all of it needled into your climax, stretching it through your skin, crumbling into powerful aftershocks as Kylo pounded you through it. Then his hips stuttered, a low, bellowing sound escaping his mask; he thrust once, twice, three times, cock twitching at your core as he came, spilling his seed inside.

Through his panting breath, he pulled out, barked an order. “Cum on her face. Paint her like a whore deserves.”

Still floating to reality, your gaze strayed from the floor, only to be met with six men tromping to encircle you, jerking their dicks with feverish focus. You blinked, whined, biting your lip--and they broke, cursing and choking in bliss as they splattered your face with load after load of cum. Hot, sticky streams roped over your forehead, your nose, your mouth, a particularly hard shot splashing down your neck and across your tits. They gasped as their climaxes left them, cocks bobbing with the tail-ends of pleasure, viscous drops dripping onto your skin.

With the final adornment of seed, they collected themselves, muttering under their masks--likely for their own benefit, rather than yours--as they tucked themselves away and meandered back to the front. In the death throes of your exhibition, you were quaking, overcome with a sudden, desperate need to sleep. Your mind plummeted into a hole, exhaustion overcoming you, actual, real-life ramifications trickling into your consciousness.

Your scalp throbbed, your face burned, you ached at every exposed joint. You swallowed--your mouth had bled, too, a bit. Making to move, you winced, finding it too difficult, resigning yourself to curl up on the Buzzard’s floor. To any observer--and perhaps, in a way, even to you--Kylo Ren had just beaten and fucked the shit out of you. And yet you couldn’t imagine, in just this single moment, being any more sated or satisfied.

Large leather hands lifting you up tore you from your reverie, and you grunted out a sigh, adjusting as your Commander gathered you in his arms. The latent pain in your heart rejected this--you didn’t want his faux-affection, didn’t want him to pretend he cared. Not when you knew he refused to let you go.

Yet you could barely summon the energy to move yourself, and the drying globs of cum were wearing out their novelty. So you relaxed, plopping your head onto his shoulder.

Kylo carried you to one of the beds and sat, supporting you on his lap, shifting until his back was along the wall and your legs splayed over the mattress. He grabbed a towel that was folded over the bunk divider and wiped you clean, guiding the thin cloth over your semen-stained face. The movements were slow, tentative, swiping away the drool, sweat and cum, pausing when he passed a tender point of tissue. His breath was steady and even, the mask offering you nothing but an empty, vacant, stare.

Kylo Ren’s eyes had been the only way you had been able to know, or begin to guess, what was rolling through his mind. Now they were shielded, a barrier cleaving your connection in half. And denied his eyes, you were blinded, blinded from hope and joy and the open door to shared escape, left with a mockery of the man you knew.

You were going to fight the tears--there would be no crying now, not tonight or in future nights, for someone who did not want to see you free. But his strength was soothing, his hands a comfort, his presence more intoxicating than any other substance you’d known. He maddened you, pitted you, shimmered in your mind like a faraway star; he was your monster and your warrior, the eye of his own typhoon.

Every thread of your being was sewn irrevocably into his skin. And you when you shredded them clean, the both of you would bleed, pouring from patterned holes until you drowned in the pools of your own foolish dream.

Once he was finished, he sighed, that knife-stare slitting through you a final time before he rolled you off of his lap, leaving the bed while he guided you onto the mattress. You laid there, gazing at him in the dim bus light, one thousand heartbeats in your flesh. Kylo stepped away to grab your robe, and then returned, draping it over your tired frame before stopping to stare again. You wished he would hold you. You knew that he couldn’t.

“You’re not keeping me,” you whispered, “or our child.” You met his invisible eyes, unafraid. “I’m going to find a way to leave.”

Kylo tilted his head and crouched low, tucking away a lock of hair that had stuck to your forehead. He studied you, cupped your cheek in his palm, thumb caressing the bone, before releasing you, rising to his feet.

“We’ll see, little bird.” His voice was quiet, wickedly certain. “We’ll see.”

As he returned to the front, your lids fluttered shut, the night sweeping you into its embrace. Your cheek tingled, glittering with the ghost of his affection, your mouth fighting the smile that was sneaking onto your face.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #kylo trash #little bird #fanfiction problems #handmaid au #tw: violence #tw: dubious consent

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hddnone · 4 years

Text

Sir Poke

Commission for @monobuu who asked for green thumb Bucky and black thumb Tony and a little cactus friend!! Thanks! <3

Also on AO3 here

“Oh, hey! I didn’t realize you were home!” Tony exclaimed as he wandered into the living room.

Bucky was sneaky and usually ended up startling Tony - sometimes on purpose and sometimes not - but it looked like this time Tony had startled him. Tony was putting it down for the record books.

Then he saw the bags that Bucky was trying to hide behind his back. There was only one thing that Bucky would try to hide buying from him, and the leaves poking out of the top confirmed it.

“Oh no. No, no, no,” Tony started because he wasn’t one to give up the fight even though he knew he was going to lose. It was all in the way that Bucky’s face went sad and Bucky’s eyes went big and pleading. “No,” Tony tried to stress. “There’s no room!”

Tony gestured around their place.

Plants were everywhere. Vines snaking up and down and around, with leaves that stretched and tickled Tony’s arms as he tried to pass by. Pots of plants were everywhere pots could possibly be, both floor and tables. He’d designed baskets to hang from the ceiling, with greenery draping down over the sides.

Whatever color the walls were, Tony honestly couldn’t remember because mostly all he could see was green. Though there were pops of color, with something always blooming or about to bloom. And it was a good thing Tony didn’t have allergies because the orange flowers - Tony’d forgotten what Bucky had called them - were scattering pollen everywhere, leaving a nice coating of yellow dust over everything.

There was no room for the blooming orange flowers out on their deck area, of course. The only space there was a little walkway for Bucky to toe along and reach all the pots to be able to water and prune.

The only fight Tony had managed to win so far was the fight over putting plants in front of the sliding glass door that led to the deck. Bucky had wanted more plants in the better lighting, but Tony had wanted to keep his view of a shirtless Bucky caressing and crooning to the plants while Tony sat on the couch, sipping his coffee and enjoying the view.

Tony had won, because that was way too important a battle to let plants block that scenery.

“I’ll find a space,” Bucky promised. “You won’t even notice!”

Tony raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Bucky had made that promise before, and that had led to Tony tripping over plants too many mornings and getting blamed for not noticing Bucky’s rearrangement that hadn’t been there the night before.

Though Tony had almost killed something, so Bucky’s sad face had been a little bit warranted.

“They were dying from lack of attention in that nursery.” Bucky pouted. He went for the full effect, with the eyes and the lips and even the shoulder droop. “I couldn’t leave them there.”

Tony rubbed his face. That was the thing. He was never going to actually say no, just like Bucky was never going to be able to say no to a plant whose leaves were turning brown and getting passed over at whatever shop Bucky had stopped by today.

Tony sighed as loudly as he could, but Bucky knew what that meant.

Bucky’s lips quirked up into a smile. “I got you something.”

Tony’s exasperation flipped to excitement like a switch. “Really?” He bounced on his toes. “You did? What? Gimme gimme.” Tony held out his hands for his present. “Next time lead with that.”

Bucky shrugged, sheepish. “I mean, I know that I’m particular about most of these guys we have-”

Tony snorted. That was an understatement. If Bucky was out of town, even for just a day or two, then Bucky had Natasha come over and take care of the plants. Tony wasn’t allowed to touch them.

Given that Tony knew he had a black thumb - sometimes literally, with the oil stains - he wasn’t upset about it. His mom had had an extensive garden growing up, but her advice had always been to hire gardeners rather than any tips on actually how to grow things.

Bucky pulled out a small pot, and in the pot was a tiny cactus. A small, round stump with spikes running up its sides. The entire plant couldn’t me more than three inches tall.

“It’s yours,” Bucky said as he held the pot out for Tony.

Tony slowly reached out and cupped the pot between his hands. “For me?”

Something in Tony’s chest went all liquid and hot as he stared down at the little spiky green stub.

“Yup.” Bucky beamed. “I can help you take care of it, but it’s not too involved. A little water when the soil gets dry and you’re good to go.”

Tony brought the plant to his chest. “Really? He’s for me? You know I kill plants, I mean -”

“I think you’ll do a great job,” Bucky assured. “I’ll help, but I think you’ll be fine.”

Tony sniffed. “Really?”

“Really.”

Tony whirled around and went to go find his computer. He had research he needed to do on how to best take care of this little guy. As he settled at the table, laptop in front of him, he carefully set his new friend beside the keyboard.

“How do you feel about ‘Sir Poke’?” Tony asked the plant as he pulled up a browser. “You look like a knightly kind of fellow. Very distinguished.”

Tony heard Bucky’s attempt at muffling his laughter, but Tony ignored him. He waited for a moment, wondering if the spikes would curl in displeasure if that was an unacceptable name.

“Sir Poke it is,” Tony declared since he saw no form of protest.

Bucky walked by and kissed the top of his head. “You’re adorable.”

“Of course I am,” Tony agreed and then he started researching.

***

Tony took to carrying Sir Poke around the house to make sure that he got the best sunlight over the course of the day. He had a brief fight with Bucky over the moving of other plants - which Bucky argued shouldn’t have been moved - in Tony’s quest to give Sir Poke the very best light, but Tony apologized to Bucky’s plants and Bucky apologized to Sir Poke and they found a way for all the plants to happily share the space while Bucky and Tony did their own apologies to each other in the bedroom.

Sir Poke shouldn’t see such acts, Tony claimed, even if the light in the bedroom was great at that hour.

He set up reminders for when Sir Poke should be watered. Tony even found he could stroke the spikes very very carefully and he wouldn’t draw his own blood.

Bucky was very firm that blood would not help Sir Poke grow better, even if there were more nutrients then just water alone. He repeated this advice at many of the weekly checkups that Tony made Bucky give to Sir Poke.

Tony wanted to see Sir Poke flourish, not just scrape by on surviving Tony’s care. If the nutrients in blood would help, he would’ve been glad to donate.

“He’s doing great,” Bucky said as he set Sir Poke carefully back on the cleared space for him in the direct sunlight. It was one of the times where Sir Poke had to share with some of Bucky’s plants, but Bucky made sure to position him in a good spot.

Tony gave a sigh of relief. Things were going well, but there was always that little knot of anxiety that this time Bucky would find something horribly wrong with Sir Poke.

Yes, Tony knew how hardy cacti could be, but this wasn’t Sir Poke’s natural environment. Sir Poke was allowed to be high maintenance so far from his usual home.

“And you’re doing great.” Bucky rewarded Tony with a deep, thorough kiss.

Tony hummed, eyes fluttering open again when Bucky pulled back.

“You want another knight in Sir Poke’s army?” Bucky asked. “Or maybe he wants a squire?”

Tony eyed Bucky. “You didn’t already get him a friend, did you?” Tony peered around for a bag that Bucky might have sneaked by him.

Bucky laughed. “No, I don’t have any more plant surprises for you. Not this time.”

“Ah,” Tony said with no small amount of relief. “Then maybe not yet.”

“Okay,” Bucky said agreeably and kissed the corner of Tony’s lips. “No pressure, just wanted to ask. Only one of us needs to fill the entire place with plants.”

“Exactly! Or, well, kind of exactly,” Tony said. He hurried over to his computer and brought up the design schematics. “I mean, Sir Poke is a cactus. He deserves a desert climate to fully thrive, doesn’t he?”

“Doll -”

Tony shoved his laptop into Bucky’s face. “So I’m thinking - I mean, we don’t want to kill your plants all for Sir Poke. But maybe on the roof I could build a greenhouse. An arid one, which are specifically for cacti! Then Sir Poke could have his army and -”

“You want to build -”

“-we could get all the cacti! I mean, how many of those poor plants are suffering in too humid climates? Or are over watered because they don’t have soil that drains properly? This is a plant crisis!”

Bucky face was twisted, torn between concern and amusement as he looked over Tony’s schematics. “You know, most people build up their plant family a bit slower than skipping ahead to a whole greenhouse.”

“An arid greenhouse.”

Bucky’s face settled fully on amusement as he handed the laptop back to Tony. “Well, I’m certainly not going to stop you.”

“Of course not.” Tony snorted and set the laptop aside. “You’re going to help me build the thing. No shirts allowed, by the way.”

Bucky laughed. “I created a monster,” he teased as his arms circled Tony’s waist.

“What can I say? You handed me Sir Poke and it was love at first sight.”

“Do I need to be jealous?” Bucky nuzzled at Tony’s neck.

Tony smirked. “Maybe a little.”

Bucky gave a playful growl.

“I am building a whole arid greenhouse for him,” Tony mused. He gave Bucky a sharp grin. “I suppose I could think of building one for you and you could get some more plants.” Tony swiped at a leafy front that was dangling nearby. “But you might have to convince me.”

In one swift motion, Bucky had Tony slung over his shoulder and was headed to the bedroom.

“Tell Sir Poke to avert his eyes,” Bucky warned.

#winteriron #tony x bucky #fluff and humor

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boomjohnny · 4 years

Text

i like that dummy. Like crazy. You can’t even imagine, dude. [sequel]

*this is pt 1, pls read that before this one if u haven’t!

**sorry this took 5 years also y’all are seniors in this dont worry they arent like freshman or sophomores and like thirsty like that lol

pairing - jock!jaehyun x fem!reader

word count - 2.3k

genre - soft sheep fluff, if u squint i guess it’s might be suggestive at one part(?)

[ 10:32 A.M ] To say that the first minute of the walk outside with Jaehyun was not awkward as hell would be a horrible, horrible lie. Your eyes seemed to dart everywhere but the jock next to you, who stayed surprisingly silent. You wonder if this was a joke; some sick bet that the basketball team set him up to.

They were infamous for their ruthless pranks, with their victims ranging from babies fresh from middle school to the most ancient of teachers. You shudder at a junior year memory of seeing Mr. Dong’s boxers for the first time.

Yeah, they pantsed him not once, not twice, but three times before the poor guy ran out screaming.

You remember Jaehyun laughing and doing stupid handshakes with his friends when they found out he resigned the next day. Your feet pull to a halt.

Is he going to laugh at you like that too?

A pair of weathered checker Vans appear in front of your hi-tops. “What’s wrong? Are you actually sick?”

The concern in his voice was even more concerning for you. This wasn’t what you expected. You inhale sharply, before looking him in the eye.

“I should be asking you that! Did you take some mind altering drug this morning? How can you-” You grab the crumpled confession from your pocket and fling it at his chest. It falls limply between the two of you. “-throw this thing at me?”

“I mean, I’ve been throwing things at you all year,” He says coolly, picking the ball up. “You just happened to finally open one. Pity you didn’t catch my paper planes. Those had little hearts on it. Or my paper cranes, those had-”

“It isn’t funny, you know.”

Jaehyun puts his hands in his pockets. “What isn’t?”

“Playing with other people’s feelings,” You bite the inside of your cheek. “I know you and your little basketball team think it’s the fucking BALLS to make other people feel like shit and I don’t know what stupid bet this was, but-”

“So you’re sad about it?”

“…what?”

“You’re sad at the possibility that I might not like you?” He takes a step closer. “That this all might just be a bet?”

“I-”

With one firm tug on your wrist, he pulls you closer. His breath feels warm on your forehead. Your heart pounds so hard in your chest you wouldn’t be surprised if it just pops out onto the floor.

“Well, you’re wrong.” His arm snakes around your waist so suddenly and so firmly that you wonder if you’ll go into cardiac arrest. “This isn’t a bet.”

You’re so close to him now you can see the little snow-like freckles on his nose from summer. The warmth around your waist feels electrifying.

“Jaehyun, what-”

“I said it in the letter, said it in class and I’ll say it again. I like you, Y/N. And I like you a lot. And I also get the feeling that-” He gives you a shit eating grin. “-you feel the same way.”

“…maybe.” You mumble, eyes fixated on a piece of lint on the ground.

“Maybe?” He grabs your chin so you’re facing him. “You gonna break my heart, Y/N?”

You see yourself in his eyes, and for a moment, you wonder if he can see himself in yours.

“Jaehyun…” Your start, but inaudible words come out of your lips again. Jaehyun puts a teasing hand up to his ear and lean over.

“I can’t hear you, Y/N. Speak loud-”

“-okay you know what, fuck it-” You inhale sharply. “-you’re too CLOSE, Jaehyun. I CAN’T THINK PROPERLY BECAUSE YOU’RE TOO CLOSE TO ME AND MY HEART IS BEATING TOO FAST.”

Your face feels hot and you’re certain you look like a tomato again. You look away, the cringe from the words that came out of your mouth sinking in.

WHY DID I SAY THAT? ARE WE IN WATTPAD? WHAT WAS THAT, Y/N? You internally scream at yourself, wondering why he wasn’t saying anything.

There’s a pause where the warmth around your waist disappears. An unconscious pout appears on your lips from the absence of his touch, an action that he most definitely notices.

“That was a good enough answer for me, ma'am.”

And suddenly, your back is against the lockers with Jung Jaehyun’s lips on yours.

He tastes like the pink lemonade from the cafeteria, a little too sweet, a little too artificial, but you don’t feel yourself pulling away anytime soon. His arm finds its way around your waist again and his fingers draw soft circles down the small of your back. Your hands go down from his hair to his neck when he brings your body even closer. It’s only when you nibble on his lower lip that he pulls away, his cheeks dusted a very warm pink. For a moment, it seems like he’s going to kiss you again, but instead he takes a step back and turns around.

As he fixes his hair, the tips of his ears peek out of his locks. They’re scarlet red like syrup on shaved ice.

How cute.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jaehyun blush before - or embarrassed, for that matter. To be frank, you wondered if that was even possible, since his smug face seemed to be the only thing he ever wore when he strode down the school hallways during lunch or when he sat at your dining table during neighbourhood parties.

“Where did you…” He says slowly, lips slightly red and swollen. “Where did you learn that?”

“Learn what?” You say innocently, slightly proud of yourself for making The Jung Jaehyun flustered for once.

“You’re a good kisser Y/N,” He shakes his head, taking a step towards you again. “So who have you been kissing?”

A surge of confidence flows through you from the compliment.

“Sorry Jaehyun but-” You smirk up at him. “-I don’t kiss and tell.”

He raises an eyebrow, inching in again and placing hand next to your head, trapping you. You look at his lips and back at him again, with a gaze that almost dared him to come to you again, almost challenged him to capture your lips in his again and not pull away so fast this time.

“Y/N,” He growled under his breath. His eyes suddenly looked very hungry. “If we weren’t in school I swear-”

As if it knew that words that were not fit for a school were at the tip of Jaehyun’s tongue, the bell rang. Students poured out of classrooms, some groaning about their classes, some excitedly talking about the weekend, some looking like plain zombies who lost their taste for human brains.

You saw Doyoung come out of a hallway with Mark and Yuta who, although you thought you were quick enough to push Jaehyun away without anyone seeing, were quite sharp.

“Well…I guess I’ll go to Chem now.” You clear your throat, slinging your bag (fell off your back when you were making out) over your shoulder.

As you start to walk away to catch up with Doyoung (who walked past the two of you secretly with a devilish smile), Jaehyun catches your wrist again, in an almost panicked way that a child might do when their parents leave them at a kindergarten for the first time.

“Wait! Uh…will I see you again today?”

You look at his wrist, smiling. “If you want to.”

His grip relaxes, and he puts his hands in his pockets again. “Today, 6:30 at the quad?”

“So late?”

“Why? Think you’ll miss me too much?”

You roll your eyes, turning away again.

“Just joking, just joking,” He pulls you back. “I have practice. Oh! You could come watch if you want. Straight after school, at the courts. You know, I’m known to be pretty sexy when I play basketball. Sweaty, glistening, sometimes my shirt comes up-”

You put a hand in front of his face, covering his dumb wiggling eyebrows.

“Sure, sure I’ll come,” You wave a hand as you begin walking away. He doesn’t stop you again but instead his dimples go back on full display. “I’ll probably be watching Taeyong though, he’s really handsome-”

The second bell rings, the only people left in the hallway are the two of you, an amused Doyoung and Yuta and Mark who are eavesdropping at the back.

“Y/N!”

You run before he can catch you again, and stop hastily when you reach Doyoung at the end of the hallway. The look he’s giving you makes you want to punch him.

“Did. I. Not. Tell. You. That. Boy. Likes. You.” He says, each time he claps after a word making you groan more. ‘What. Did. I. Say. You. Clown.”

“Yes, yes, you were right.” You sigh as the two of you enter the class and settle down in your lab seats.

“So, what happened exactly?”

“Well,” Your hand stops shuffling your backpack for your textbook. The image of Jaehyun pinning you to the lockers flashes in your mind, his hand on your waist… “Nothing much.” You say, rather unconvincingly.

“Boo, don’t lie,” Doyoung says, flicking on his horn-rimmed glasses when the teacher begins to give a rather boring presentation on acids. “It was a trick question, I saw y’all nasty asses kissing.”

“How did you-”

“When I told you that you were lewd, I didn’t mean to act on it! And to think! In this holy educational institute, where a fourteen year old freshman baby could’ve seen, y’all nasties were-”

“DOYOUNG!”

Suddenly, the class is quiet, and the teacher, a very weathered man who was apparently a retired scientist called Mr. Yang casted you a very offended glance. You can see Doyoung trying his best not to laugh and you pinch him on the leg.

“Is there a problem, Y/N? Or rather-” His eyes narrow on Doyoung, who was now biting his cheek to prevent a smile. “-a problem with Doyoung? Do you want me to move you?”

“No, no. Ah Doyoung was just-” You peek quickly at the presentation behind him. “-telling me a fun fact about hydronium! It was so shocking, I couldn’t hold back… Yes, I could not. Sorry about that, sir.”

Though unconvinced, he let out a grunt and continued on, the class going back to normal. You let out a deep breath and tried to focus on the moving dots on the screen that were supposed to be particles.

“You know, I was lying earlier. I only saw the two of you talking. But wow. Did you actually kiss him? Was he good? Did he do tongue?”

You bite your lip to stop another shout from erupting from your lips. Something told you this time Mr. Yang would kick you out for the rest of the year if you interrupted him again.

You resorted stepping on Doyoung’s foot very, very hard.

- and back to somewhere not so far away, in the past -

“Y/N!” Jaehyun shouts, a smile on his lips at the girl’s retreating figure. He shook his head, still in a slight daze from what just happened. However, he had no time to recover as two slaps on his back and a very loud “DUDE” sounded in his ear.

“MARK! You scared me, oh my god,” Jaehyun says, rubbing his ear as Yuta slings his arm around his shoulder.

“So,” Yuta says, exchanging mischievous grins with Mark. “how was the nurse’s office?”

“Huh?” Jaehyun says in confusion, before retracting almost immediately. “OH! Yeah, you know…Y/N put some ice to her forehead…”

A snort came from Yuta and Mark started giddy laughing like he inhaled some helium gas.

“STOP LYING, DUDE. We saw you, alright? Acting all mushy by the lockers and looking into each other’s eyes like you were Romeo and Juliet or something.”

“What the-weren’t you in class?”

Yuta rolled his eyes. “Do you really think we would actually do self-study? You have severely underestimated us, Jeffrey.”

The three of them began walking towards the courts for P.E. It was Jaehyun’s favourite subject but the only thing that he thought about the entire time was you. Your awkward but adorable confession, your flushed cheeks when he confessed to you, the feeling of your lips against his…

For the first time in his four years of high school, his P.E classmates found him utterly useless during a game of sports.

“Is something wrong with Jeffrey today?” Someone said from the showers after the lesson as Jaehyun was changing his shirt.

“I’m fine!” He shouted back, even though he wasn’t really. Very soon he would be going back to the courts but there would be one small difference. You would be there, watching him, and something about that got his heart pounding very hard, indeed.

“Yeah, right.” Someone else chimed in, also from the showers. “Jaehyun’s got himself a girlfriend.”

“Yeah they were smooching-”

“Yuta, Mark, if you don’t want to run ten laps, you’ll shut up now,” Jaehyun says, quickly swiping on some cologne on his wrist. Taeyong, the basketball team’s forward raised an eyebrow at this.

“Cologne? Jaehyun do you actually-”

Jaehyun was too engrossed in shoving his stuff into his Superdry as quick as possible to notice Taeyong had been talking to him. It was only when the bag was over his shoulder that Jaehyun turned to him, with a look that Taeyong could only describe as determination.

“Taeyong, bro, if a crazy girl wearing a denim skirt and red hi-tops stares at you later during practice, tell her to back off, and that she needs to stop looking at you, okay?”

Jaehyun pats the older boy’s shoulder and begins to walk away, a spring already forming in his step at the thought of seeing you.

Taeyong blinks. “What? Who’s that?”

“Some dummy who made me miss class. But you know what?”

He turns back again, a twinkle in his eyes.

“I like that dummy. Like crazy. You can’t even imagine, dude.”

fin.

#nct #jaehyun #nct scenarios #nct imagines #jaehyun scenarios #nct fluff #jaehyun imagines #nct 127 #nct jaehyun #nct 127 jaehyun #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fluff #jaehyun fluff #neo culture technology #nct 127 scenarios #yes i know i took wayyy more than a few days but y'all #mobile tumblr decided to eat all my work the last time i made it so it really killed my vibe lol #hope u guys like this as much as the first one

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deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth · 4 years

Text

I’m Gonna Crawl

Chapter One July 20 1973 - Boston, MA

“Cali, where have you been?” My boss, Jonathon – clearly irritated by my lack of responsibility and ability to answer his non-stop phone calls since last Tuesday – harped into the telephone. I had been on a bedridden binge since my last fight with my long-time boyfriend, Daniel.

“Been under the weather.” I groaned into the receiver.

“I’ve been calling for a week. It’s Monday. You were supposed to be at the new client meeting on Friday. You know I don’t tolerate no-shows. I don’t care how good you are at your job.”

“Are you firing me Jonathan?” My tone unmoved. At this point I honestly didn’t care about the job. I had worked hard for years to get to the position I’m in but my situational depression had made me completely uninterested in the job I had loved and cared so much for. All the love and passion I had for anything and anyone had completely diminished the moment I stepped into Daniel’s dank office.

Jonathan sighed loudly. “No, Cali. I’m not firing you. But you need to show up to work. We have new clients waiting for your go ahead. If you can’t make it, I’m sure Stu can fill in for you.” He was baiting me. Stu was an idiot and he knew it and knew that I knew it.

“When’s the next meeting?” I took the bait, unwillingly.

“Tomorrow morning. Some big-time band wants their concert filmed.” He paused and sucked in a large breath. “These are important clients. Willing to pay big and we need the business so please, please, please don’t fuck this up, kid.”

I rolled my eyes at the assumption that I would fuck it up. “Have I ever fucked anything up since I’ve worked for you?”

“Not yet, but I can see you snowballing down a big hill… What’s going o-”

“Nothing personal here, Jon, but I really don’t want to talk about it. Let’s keep things professional.” I cut him off. I liked Jonathan; he was a good boss but he always tried to pry. I didn’t like people who pried.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, right?” He dropped it. “Nine-thirty A.M.” He emphasized.

“Yes, sir.” I breathed then placed the phone back on the receiver.

I laid my head on my pillow, sinking further into the comforts of the fluffy mattress. Not even thirty seconds after I hung up with Jon the phone rang again. I sat up and wretched the phone from its cradle. “I said I would be there Jon!” I murmured impatiently into the phone.

“Cali…” His voice was raw and rough. “Why have you been ignoring my calls?”

I clenched my jaw and took a deep breath through my nose, exhaling loudly through my mouth. “Daniel.” I murmured with quiet irritation. “I’ve been busy.” I lied.

“Busy with what?” His tone was sharp and accusatory. “Where have you been? With Jon? Is he the guy you’ve been fucking around with?”

“Excuse me?” The audacity. “You have no right to accuse me of anything.”

“No right?” He yelled. “I have every right. You belong to me. You don’t have the right-”

“I’m sorry, but I’m pretty sure that you’re the one fucking around with random skanks you meet at that dingy bar you call a business.” I retorted.

He was quiet. For a minute he didn’t say anything. He knew I was right. I had a million reasons not to be with this man but for the life of me I wasn’t strong enough to let him go. “I’m coming over.” He stated.

I looked over at the clock, it read 7:45 p.m. “No. I have to be at work early in the morning and I’m really not in the mood to continue this right now. I’ll call you tomorrow.” I hung up the phone before he could protest.

I dropped heavily back onto the pillow with a sigh. When I closed my eyes, I could see last Monday night. I had gotten off work and decided I would surprise him at the bar he managed. We had both been so busy with work we had only seen each other for a few hours in the evening four times in the past two weeks. He was cold and sometimes demeaning but he loved me, cared for me. This was no Romeo and Juliet. We were both damaged goods, maybe that’s why I loved him too.

Monday evening, I had rushed home, donned Daniels favorite little black dress and drove to the bar, The Tam. When I arrived, I walked in confident, greeted the bartender, Tim, grabbed a bottle of Southern Comfort and headed to the manager’s office, ignoring the odd look Tim had on his face. When I opened the door the liquor bottle slipped from my hand and shattered around my feet. Behind the desk was Karen, another bartender I had only met a couple of times, sitting on Daniels lap, skirt hiked up around her waist, Daniel’s jeans at his ankles.

“Jesus.” I muttered.

Karen looked at me like she was a deer caught in the headlights and under her I could see the smug tone underneath Daniel’s faux apologetic gaze.

As hard as I tried to fight them, I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. I refused to let him see them. I turned on my heels and left the bar in silence. I held myself together as I drove back to my apartment. When I finally made it, I closed the door, locked it, and leaned my body weight against it. With my fists in balls, I slid down the door and finally let go. The tears welled and rained down my cheeks. I sat there on the floor, unable to move, unable to see what I needed to forget. An hour later I heard the clumsy footsteps approaching my door.

My breath hitched, I started taking quiet and shallow breaths. I flinched when his fist hit the door. “Cal!” He groaned through the wood.

I stayed silent. I didn’t dare speak knowing full well my voice would betray me. I sat at the door for another thirty minutes listening to him begging and pleading then banging and cursing. When he had finally left, I poured myself a drink. And that was the beginning of everything.

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. I let out a deep breath and shook the memory from my head. I had no more tears left. I had been crying for over a week and was tired of it.

“Shower.” I exhaled. I definitely needed one. I didn’t have enough strength or energy to stand so I started the shower, removed my clothes then sat down in the tub and let the water rain over me. After I had cleaned myself thoroughly, I got out and stared at myself in the mirror. I was thin before but now I could see I was getting even more thin. Food had not been on my mind lately and when it was it was quickly dismissed by the memory in my head and put on hold until I could regain my appetite. My cheeks were hollow and the bags under my eyes made me look washed out. I was beginning to look like my mother. Unhappy, unhealthy and colorless.

I knew that if I decided to stay up, I would only do no good to myself so I slid into a pair of panties, an old t-shirt and climbed into bed.

The morning was hard. I dragged myself out of bed and did my best to look presentable for the meeting with the new client’s. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep forever but I knew that if I didn’t show up Stu would steal the client from me and I would probably slip further into myself creating a hole of despair.

Before I left the house I self-medicated. Jonathan would not approve, he detested marijuana but I didn’t care. It was something I had been doing more of over the past week, some may think a little too much. But again, I didn’t care.

I made it to work with only minutes to spare. I lit a cigarette and ran through the lobby not bothering to greet the lady behind the front desk who’s name always seemed to escape me. I made it to the conference room just as Jonathan was greeting the clients.

There were four men standing in the room. A large brick wall of a man shaking Jon’s hand looked up at me through the glass door and nodded toward me. Jon turned around with a look of relief.

I entered the room and put my cigarette out in an ashtray.

“You’re late.” Jon mumbled at me.

“Thanks, Jon. I can read a clock.” I retorted quietly; my sarcasm heavy.

“Can you?” He murmured barely audibly. He looked at the men and gestured to me,

“This is Cali, she will be taking care of scheduling, equipment, set up and photography on tour with you.”

“Pleased to meet you.” I nodded. And with that Jon left the room to me.

The big man extended his hand to me. “Peter Grant. Manager of the band.” He smiled, taking my hand and shaking it. “This is Robert, Jonesy, and John.” He pointed to each member of the band.

“Very nice to meet you.” I smiled back.

Robert, a bouncing blonde skipped over to me and took my hand in his, kissing the back of it. His smile was sweet and comforting. Before he let go of my hand, he sniffed around it, his smile grew wider. He raised an eyebrow “By the smell of it, you’ll be quite fun to have around.” He winked. “I was afraid we’d end up with a stingy old man with no sense of adventure.”

“I am very sorry,” I blushed, embarrassed. “Had a rough night.” More like a rough week. “I usually don’t smoke right before a meeting with clients.”

“Who’s smoking what?” John the mustached man bounded over, excitement in his eyes.

“Calm down Bonzo.” Jonesy put a firm hand on his shoulder.

“So, we would love to get down to the nitty-gritty and tell you what it is we are looking for from you but we apologetically are one man short. He too had a rough night.” Robert gave a look as though he was a child about to be scolded. “Fortunately, we can tell you what we…” He gestures to himself and the other two band members. “… want. Unfortunately, we cannot speak for Jimmy. I would try but he would no doubt complain.”

“Okay.” I smiled. “So, should we meet at another time?”

“Well,” Peter rubbed his chin in thought. “We have a show tonight at the Boston Garden. Then we set out for Providence. The boys have the 22nd off then we head over to Baltimore for the 23rd and Pittsburgh on the 24th.”

“Then two glorious days off!” Robert chimed.

“We’ll be in New York on the 27th for three shows at Madison Square Garden and that’s where you will come in handy.” Peter finished.

“So, we will be filming the three shows there?” I made the conclusion. “Why start filming at the end of your tour?”

Robert sat in a chair at the round table and put his feet up, crossing his ankles. “Ask Jimmy.” He murmured bitterly.

I got the feeling Jimmy was the one who called the shots. I was starting to have a bad feeling about him already.

“What Jimmy wants; Jimmy gets.” Peter confirmed.

Yep. I thought to myself. This is going to be a long three days. “So, I’ll be meeting you in New York on the 27th?” I assumed.

Peter and the boys looked at each other. Peter chuckled and shook his head. ��No, lovey, you’ll be joining us today.”

“Oh.” I pursed my lips. “So, we will be filming more than just the three shows in NY?” I was slightly taken aback.

“No.” Peter smirked amused. “Jimmy,” He sighed heavily. “Would like you and your team to get a feel of the band and what they’re about before we start filming. He likes to be very…” He chose his words carefully. “thorough.”

“Fair enough.” I agreed. “I get the feeling I should be meeting with Jimmy to fully understand his vision.”

“Yes, he definitely wants to meet with the head of filming. Said he has lots to discuss.” Peter smiled warmly.

“Shall I set up a meeting for just him and I to go over everything?” I wondered.

Jonesy scoffed loudly. “Trust me, darling. You don’t want to be alone with good Ol’ Pagey.”

“Don’t scare her off Jonesy!” Peter scolded

Robert turned in his chair to look at Peter. “You know full well how he is.” He looked at me then back at Peter. “Especially around someone of her caliber.”

He gave Robert a look of warning. “He’ll be on his best behavior.” Peter assured me. “I’ll make sure of it.” His tone was menacing. Peter was definitely not someone you wanted to fuck with.

#I'm Gonna Crawl #Jimmy Page #Jimmy Page Fanfiction #Led Zeppelin Fanfiction #Robert Plant #John Paul Jones #John Bonham #Jimmy Page fan fic #how-many-more-times-blog

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hailbop1701 · 4 years

Text

25 Days of FicMas

December 6th prompt: Fake Date for Christmas

Word count: 2,380

He's my...boyfriend?

Well here it is! I love this trope...we need more of this. This was pretty damn fun to write and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!

-H❤🖖

You tossed your phone onto the noodle shop counter with a scowl before sitting back down with John and Dorian. “You okay?” Dorian asked concerned as he pushed a bowl of noodles towards you. John looked at you expectantly mouth full, you practically hissed at Dorian’s inquiry. “Just a joyous call with my mother,” you muttered violently cracking your chopsticks apart so you could use them. Both officers eyed you cautiously, “I take it that Christmas is going to be a bust?” Kennex asked taking a swig of soda. “That’s an understatement,” you muttered sourly looking at your food suddenly not hungry anymore. “She wants to set me up again!”

Both Dorian and John were silent before they burst out laughing, you glared at them heatedly. “Come on it’s not funny!” you whined hurling your unused chopsticks at them out of frustration. Dorian snickered but calmed down out of respect to you, John, however, thought it was one of the funniest things he has heard in a while. You smacked him on the arm repeatedly until he stopped, “alright, alright!” he cried scooting away from you in order to protect himself. “What are you going to do?” he asked in all seriousness now. You sighed and slumped in your seat, “I have to go. My brothers would be upset if I skipped out and my dad would be disappointed,” you grumbled pushing your cooled-down bowl of noodles towards Kennex. He dug in the moment your hand left the porcelain. Rolling your eyes you hopped down from your stool grabbing your EMS-issued jacket, “I guess I have to suffer through unless I get a boyfriend in the next forty-eight hours,” you said dryly. Waving your goodbyes you were out the door and into the cold snowy city.

Dorian hit Kennex on the shoulder lightly, “Is it whack Kennex day or something?” the man asked incredulously. The DRN rolled his eyes, “did you hear what she said John?” he asked smirking. John huffed finishing his second meal, “Yes, Dorian I’m not deaf. Sounds like she’s gonna have an unwanted guest this Christmas,” he said taking out his phone to pay the man behind the counter. Dorian gave his partner a look, “and you’re not the least bit jealous?” he asked unconvinced. John snorted, “not in the slightest. Why would I be?” he asked yanking on his coat avoiding eye contact. “Well, it could be because you like (Y/N) a lot. I can tell by numerous readings to your-” John cut Dorian off by shutting the door of the noodle shop in his face. “Real mature,” the android muttered before following his human to the car.

“All I’m saying is that maybe you should offer to be her date for Christmas so she’s not miserable,” Dorian said after they got done with a crime scene. John stopped and looked at the android like he had suddenly sprouted wings and a second head. “You’ve got to be joking. This isn’t some RomCom Dorian!” Kennex hissed quietly as they got back into the car to go to the station. Dorian mumbled under his breath and blew out an unnecessary breath multiple times. Kennex groaned a headache starting to form over his left eye, “besides she’d never go for it,” he whispered almost to himself. The DRN grinned, “you could always offer and find out. I mean you practically see each other every day. It's like you're already dating,” he pointed out feeling giddy. John tapped the steering wheel with his thumb actually thinking over what he said, “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered making up his mind.

You sat behind the wheel of your car in somewhat comfortable silence with John Kennex in the passenger seat, ‘I can’t believe I agreed to this’ you thought anxiously. You white-knuckled the wheel as you pulled down a long drive, “It’s going to be a packed house,” you warned sheepishly glancing over to the man next to you. John smirked, “this should be interesting,” he murmured leaning forward as the house came into view. It was old in style but well kept; the ivory paint looked as if it needed a new coat or two and the navy blue shudders were dusted with snow. Christmas lights twinkled in the dusk and the windows of the house glowed inviting people in from the cold. John gave a low whistle, “big place,” he breathed taking note of the large amount of land your family home was on. You smiled, “big family,” you said parking off to the side almost on the front lawn. Snow crunched under your boots as you got out of the warm car, shivering you slammed the car door shut. You looked around and smiled, everything was the same. John closed the passenger side door and quickly moved to the trunk for your bags; the faster he got inside the faster he got warm. The front door of the (Y/L/N) homestead opened and there were shouts of excitement; then suddenly you were tackled. Giving a very undignified screech you flew back into a snowbank with your four rambunctious brothers on top of you. It didn’t matter if the older of the four was at least three years older than you.

“Ugh get off me you mouth breathers!” you grunted flailing around until you could breathe properly. John watched from the side; he was torn between laughing and wanting to be concerned. He snorted doing his best to keep quiet. “But we missed you!” the youngest of the boys said enthusiastically. His front tooth was missing and he was grinning from ear to ear. “I know Matty but I can’t breathe with Luka's fat butt on top of me,” you groaned. The little boy Matty hopped up hoping to ease the burden; like the little hero he was, he shoved the biggest of boys off of your abdomen. “Luka you butt move!” Matty shouted tackling the unsuspecting high school-aged boy into the snow. Now that the biggest was off of you you practically flung the other two boys into the snow along with him. “Ah, (Y/N)” one of them howled shaking the snow from his hair. You got up brushing off your coat, “heathens,” you murmured affectionately. The boys got off the ground eyeing John up and down like they were trying to decide if he were a threat. “Guys, this is John my...boyfriend,” you said the lie slipping off your tongue easily. Your siblings narrowed their eyes at the officer in scrutiny and John almost wanted to shuffle his feet. Eventually, they smiled and introduced themselves from top to bottom. Jamie, Luka, Parker, and Matty. John smiled and shook each one’s hand, even little Matty. You grinned happily when you saw that they got on okay, quickly moving forward you took one of the bags from John’s hands. “You all comin’ inside or are you gonna sleep out here tonight?” a voice boomed from the front porch. Your grin widened when you heard your father’s call; flinging the duffle over your shoulder you broke out into a jog up to the porch. You flung your arms around your fathers gleefully making the older man stumble back; he chuckled as he hugged you tightly. “How’s my girl?” he asked pulling back so he could take a proper look at you.

You smiled sweetly, “I’m doing alright, I uh brought company with me like I said I would,” you mumbled nervously. Your father’s smile brightened when he saw John walk up the porch steps talking to your brothers about something or other. They seemed to be really into it, “John if you stick a knife in your prosthetic I will have to hurt you,” you warned somewhat teasingly. Your brothers choked back laughter when John made the “uh oh,” face, “how do you do that?” he wondered openmouthed. Sighing you crossed your arms, “because I know you and I know them,” you said dryly. Your brothers snickered filing into the house to get out of the cold; your father laughed and took John’s hand in his when he offered it, “It’s nice to meet you, Sir,” John greeted respectfully. “It’s nice to finally meet you, son. I’m Henry, ”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

It had taken you and John a good hour before you made it to your childhood room, sighing you gently placed the duffle you were lugging around onto the queen-sized bed. “My mother was way too happy to meet you I think,” you said making a face. Kennex snorted from where he was being nosy, “mother’s love me,” he said cockily. You watched as he examined your giant collection of books he pulled one out and smirked, “well that’s nostalgic,” he murmured reading the back. You chuckled walking over and plucked your copy of Harry Potter from his hands, “I’m surprised John, you a reader?” you asked feigning shock. “I read...in school,” he mumbled scrunching up his nose slightly. It was the cutest damn thing you ever saw. Putting the book back in its place you eyed the bed with trepidation, “I didn’t’ think about this part,” you muttered scratching your head. “Nervous to share a bed with me?” John joked as he flipped through one of your old journals. Squeaking you yanked it from his hands, glaring you smacked him with it, “no I just picture you being a bed hog,” you said placing the book back where he found it. You turned back to face him biting your lip, “ I can-” you stopped noticing suddenly how close the two of you were. John gently tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, fingers stroking along your cheek. Electricity buzzed around you and after a moment you both leaned in.

A sudden bout of screaming made you abruptly pull apart; running past your door was Matty with a bucket on his head being chased by two of your cousins. The screaming continued until you heard a crash from the end of the hallway followed by a long drawn-out “I’m okay!” you put a hand to your mouth trying to suppress your giggles. “No Matty, the stairs are that way!” a distant voice called. Your eyes widened and you were out your bedroom door within seconds. John huffed a laugh, “I’m not even mad,” he whispered following you out the door. He stopped short when he saw you, your foot braced against the hallway wall pulling on the bucket that was stuck to your brother’s dome; with another sharp tug it popped off making you stumble back arms windmilling. “Thanks (Y/N)!” Matty cheered and raced down the stairs with your two cousins following behind. John plucked the bucket from your hands and hooked its handle over a nearby doorknob; with your hands-free, he moved in again only to stop when a voice shouted up the stairs, “dinner’s ready!” Kennex laughed humorously. “I can’t win,” he sighed running a hand through his hair. You gave him a sympathetic look pink dusting your cheeks, “Yeah that’s going to happen a lot,” you said grimacing. John threw his hands up in the air and moved around you to get to the stairs, smirking you stopped the man by grabbing the front of his shirt dragging him down to you, “so you have to seize the moment,” you whispered inches from his lips.

A camera flash made you growl and pull back, at the bottom of the stairs stood one of your brothers. An old vintage polaroid camera in his hands, he grinned pulling the picture from the bottom and started shaking it. “Oh you are a dead man,” you hissed. Luka’s eyes widened, you impressively jumped from the top step just as he bolted. Landing nimbly on your feet you twisted and sprinted after him, “mom told me to do it!” Luka tried to plead with you terror in his voice. “I don’t care if the Pope told you to do it!” you called back. John casually walked down the stairs and peered around the corner in the direction of all the noise. He winced when he saw you catch your brother. You curled an arm around the boy, who was twice your size, and brought him crashing to the floor. The house shook and nobody seemed to bat an eye at the disturbance. “Festive,” John muttered and looked over when he heard Henry start laughing into his whiskey. “You don’t even know the half of it, John,” he said offering a second glass. They watched as you placed a knee on his back and pluck the picture from his limp hand. The boy groaned pitifully, “and that’s why I don’t need to give you the talk,” Henry said with a nod and silent cheers before striding into the dining room. “I think I’m in love,” John downed the whiskey quickly and moved towards you. Taking your wrist he pulled you into a little room that housed the washer and dryer, “sorry about-” you began but was cut off by John’s lips on yours. Breaking it off gently needing the chance to breathe you gaped, “what was that for?” you asked blushing beet red. John grinned eyes glowing, “I think we failed at this whole fake relationship thing. Why don’t we try a real relationship this time,” he suggested. You choked on a laugh, “why detective, are you asking me out?” John smirked, “I’m asking for way more than that sweetheart,” he whispered placing a sweet kiss on your forehead and moved out the door towards the promise of food. Your face grew even redder, “I - uh-okay,” you spluttered as you walked out of the laundry room. Your mom stopped by you and leaned up against the wall arms crossed a dish towel hung loosely in her hand. “I’m quite impressed by him sweetie,” she complimented making you roll your eyes. “He’s smart, has a good job, handsome,” she sang and made a grabbing motion with her hands at the level where his butt would have been. “Mom!” you hissed mortified. She laughed and winked as she too moved to the dining room, “I don’t know how I’m going to last until new years,” you laughed nervously following her.

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#almost human #john kennex/reader #john kennex x reader #john kennex #Dorian #reader insert #25 days of ficmas #Hailey the queen of typos

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