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nursegracecreates · 2 years

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Sound Effects and Overdramatics Pt Twenty Six.

I have twenty five other chapters, which you can find here!

Cw: this is a self ship fic, also EJ is here. With that comes tw: corpse, surgery, autospy, cannibalism?, body parts/organs, organ harvesting, body horror

Apparently, I dozed off while Toby drove to our last stop, Jack (the eyeless one, whatever that meant) and his clinic. I woke because the car had stopped and cracked my eyes just as Toby leaned over to wake me.

"Grace?" Toby asked gently, not noticing that I was looking at him from under my lids. He kissed my cheek and I smiled for him, opening my eyes fully. Toby's eyes found mine as he gave me a crooked smile of his own. "Ready to meet Jack? I promise you'll like him better than the clown."

I turned my attention to the building Toby had parked in front of. I was expecting an office building. What I saw was a white, two story farmhouse, with a gray roof. The windows on the ground floor bore curtains in neutral tones of gray and beige. However, the window of the upper floor were covered with sunbleached blankets and towels. And the attic window was covered in foil. A simple stoop sat at the front entrance, and I could see external stairs, like a fire escape, climbing up the side of the house. Toby started towards it and caught my hand as he passed. He led me to a second set of stairs, these going down. It finally hit me that this house had been split into three apartments, basement, ground, and second floors, maybe even a fourth in the attic. Jack must stay in the basement.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, we waited at the door after Toby punched the doorbell. Soft music was playing inside, orchestral strains with a tenor opera singer accompanying, his voice soaring over the orchestra in Italian. I recognized it as a piece from Pucchini just before it cut off and was followed by footsteps approaching. The door opened and I looked up to see a man standing there in a dark blue hoodie and jeans. He had his hood up, casting the upper half of his face in deeper than normal shadow.

He had brown hair, a little lighter than Toby's, and stood tall, maybe 6'5" with a semi muscular build. His skin was pale, ashen, but the most outstanding feature of this man were his eyes. Or, rather, the lack thereof. Dark, deep sockets, seemingly bottomless sat, empty, in his skull, well empty except for the black, tarlike goop that was welling out of them into his cheeks like tears. His clothes were smeared with what looked like the goop from his eyes, and reddish brown stains that I knew were blood.

"Jack" Toby said, his tone slightly more friendly than I'd heard it all day, "Can we come in? We need to talk."

"Of course" Jack said, his voice deep and gravelly, a much larger voice than Jack's body seemed to be able to hold. "Shoes off, though. I'm cleaning a mess that got out of hand."

Toby nodded, and Jack stepped aside, holding the door for us. Once inside, we were met by a smell unmistakable to me: bleach, orange Hibiclens, and the faint coppery scent of blood. We took our boots off, leaving them by the door to proceed in sock feet.

"It's been a while" Jack said to Toby, "I heard rumors that you were locked away in Pueblo. But that is either untrue, as you're standing here now, or you've got quite a story to tell me."

Toby confessed that, yes, Natalie had committed him into the care of the state hospital in Pueblo. He filled Jack in on how Natalie left him there, how he had started to lose hope, how we met and Slenderman's prison break. Jack led us further into the apartment, through a den/living area, a kitchenette, we passed a bathroom that also had a washer and dryer combo, and another door that was closed, and I assumed it was Jack's bedroom. It was hard to see, the lighting in the apartment very dim, most of the light coming from the end of the hall. Toby and Jack navigated it as if it were a well lit space, meanwhile, I followed Toby with my fingers of my left hand touching the small of his back, using him as my guide through the barely lit, but very clean house. There was an open door on the right. The smell of blood had been getting stronger the further we went into the house. And now, with all the bright white light, I could see why.

What started as just drops on the carpet in front of me turned into a trail that led into the lit room. Carpet turned into white tile with black grout as I passed into the room. The trail got heavier as it led to a gurney. The bright red blood got darker as it led up to and then pooled under the gurney, almost black. On the gurney, a man lay prone and stripped, a shock of curly ginger hair covered his head. He wasn't breathing. A pair of perfect, surgical incisions flanked the corpses sides, high up under the ribcage, at a forty five degree angle. They were both held open with clamps for easier access to the kidneys.

"I apologize for the mess" Jack repeated, "My dinner plans went a little... awry, and I wasn't prepared" he shook his head, "Poor fool forced me to kill him. "

Toby shook his head. He and Jack wore matching grim expressions as they looked at the corpse of the red headed man on the gurney. I wasn't really having much of a reaction to the corpse lying before us. It might have been different had Jack not spent a lot of effort and money into making this room look exactly like a small surgical suite. A glass fronted cabinet contained vials of medication and various surgical instruments. Below that was a counter with sinks that held boxes of supplies and disposable scalpels. A closet stood open to reveal Jack had a small pharamacy's worth of prescription meds. Oxygen tanks and a defibrillator stood against one wall. A surgical chandelier, the source of all the bright, white light, hung from the ceiling. The floor was tiled in a white that matched the walls, and it was slightly sloped down in the middle to allow the floor to drain. It felt like I was back at my first nursing job, a urology office, doing vasectomies and cystos with Dr. Diaz. Jack was back at the body, getting ready to finish what he was doing with it.

"Do you need any help?" I asked "I have some OR experience." The offer was out of my mouth before I could stop it, instinct taking over my thought processes.

Jack smiled and I noticed that his teeth were every bit as sharp as a shark's. They were double rowed, reminding me of seeing Slendy's mouth while he had a drink with Toby and me. "A helping hand would be appreciated. And while you help, Toby can decide whether he's ready to share his business. Sometimes he stalls so he can stick around longer." Jack smirked at Toby and Toby rolled his eyes. But then he chuckled.

"You're right, and as much as I'd love to say this is just a friendly visit, you know me too well to believe that" Toby said, and offered nothing more, leaning against the wall in stubborn silence. Toby liked to do things on his own time. You couldn't really rush him about things, that just caused him to clam up more. But I'd noticed that Toby only did this with a select few people. It was a way he showed his affection, I think.

Jack took up his scalpel and I stepped up to the gurney. He bent over the body and started widening the incision on the right side. Then he slid his hand in and the body made an unpleasant squelching sound as his hand and scalpel disappeared into the body. He made minute movements inside the space he had made and his brows furrowed in frustration as he moved a little more.

"Connective tissue's a little thick" Jack muttered, "Could you hand me a No. 22? With the long handle?"

I went to the boxes on the counter behind us and found the box of scalpel types that Jack needed. I carried one back to him and opened it before handing it to him, handle first. Jack took it and returned to his work, a black, bifurcated tongue slipping out from between Jack's lips in concentration. I wondered what his story was and stole a glance back to Toby. He was leaned against the wall, watching us work together with a content expression on his face.

Just as Jack pulled a kidney from the body, a drop of his eye goop dropped into the incision. Jack cursed to himself as he rushed to wipe the black stain away. "I hate when that happens" Jack growled, annoyance in his voice.

Regardless, Jack moved around to the other side of the body to resume his work. He took his time, there was no hurry, no life to preserve. The tar-like substance was still slowly weeping from Jack's sockets, accumulating so Jack would have a pretty big mess if he didn't attend to it. Unfortunately his hands were fully occupied, wrestling with connective tissue that was even thicker on that side. I got some paper towels from a drawer and wet it with water. Then I went back to Jack's side.

"Jack?" I asked, "May I wipe your face? You're about to drip."

Jack looked at me and nodded, thanking me kindly before sliding his hand and blade back into the incision. I turned to throw away the towels and saw Toby smiling pridefully. 'Thank you for taking care of my friend' Toby thought to me and I smiled back before turning back to the gurney.

Jack didn't meet much more resistance, and within moments, Jack pulled the second kidney from the body. It joined the first one in the silver tray Jack had set aside.

"Back on topic" Jack said, "And my apologies again. You both caught me in a situation I couldn't immediately step away from." Jack had moved to the silver tray, which was balanced on the body's shins. He was filling fat syringes with saline and reached back to grab another tray from the shelf behind him. Then he stuck the syringe into the ureter and proceeded to flush both of the kidneys out with saline, "First, introductions. I'm sure Toby's already told you, but I'm known as Eyeless Jack" Jack's voice was somehow humble sounding as he nodded his head at me, "But, just Jack will do." He turned to Toby

"Grace" I replied, "I'd shake your hand, but-" I flicked my eyes to Jack's hands, which were covered in blood.

Jack had the grace to look slightly embarrassed as he pulled his extended hand back, realizing he couldn't shake mine with all that blood and viscera on it. Jack chuckled, "I understand, no worries." He turned to look at Toby, who was still holding up his section of the wall by the door and waste basket. "So what's this business you were talking about, Toby?"

Toby was quiet for a beat, and then he joined me at the gurney as he said, "Um, Grace is technically hostage. Officially, she might be dead."

"But he didn't kidnap me or anything" I piped up, "I'm here because I want to be." I felt Toby's hand in mine and I gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Anyway, Grace has, um, medicines she needs. And I need refills too."

"I thought antidepressants and stuff messes with all of the things we can do because of Slendy."

Jack let out a short laugh, "Don't worry. I've formulated a series of specially formulated meds that cut down the mental illness symptoms, but still allows The Operator's influence." The Operator? I asked Toby mentally. He has so many names, Grace, so many it could fill books. "You won't even be able to tell the difference between these and your old ones."

I wondered why Toby had seemed so nervous bringing up the subject of meds for him and me. They were just antidepressan/anti anxiety pills, in my case. And then it hit me.

"I also have another prescription besides the antidepressants" I told Jack, who was finishing up with the kidneys, sealing away the organs in blue tinted tupperware. "I take a birth control shot? But I'm not sure due for another one until a month from now."

"We can take care of that too" Jack said, matter of factly, and I heard Toby sigh in relief, "Can you help me flip this, Toby?"

Toby let my fingers go, he'd been fidgeting with them, tapping three of his reddish fingertips against each of mine, in rapid succession. I watched as Toby and Jack teamed up to heft the man off of the gurney, and then flipping him easily so he lay on his back. The body must have weighed 250 pounds a least, this was not a small man. But Toby and Jack lifted the dead weight as if they were only putting a leaf in a table or something. Miraculously, neither man had a speck of visible blood on them. I think the body was just too drained. Surgical incisions marked the wrists and both sides of the neck. His head hung limply, a broken neck the likely cause of death. An expression of terror was frozen on his face. I joined Toby and Jack as Jack spoke, holding a plastic ID card.

"Dennis Armitage, thank you for the sacrifice of your bodily remains. Please know that your sacrifice did not need to be so great. Nonetheless, it is greatly appreciated as it sustains me."

I blinked as I looked over at Toby. I hadn't expected that.

"Something tells me that this is more than just a medical visit, Toby. Are you ready to talk about it now? Or after I've finished with Dennis?"

"Can we do both? I don't want to hold you up" Toby replied. Jack nodded and bent over the body, making a Y incision in the body's torso. He was harvesting the other organs.

Toby told Jack everything. And it wasn't like with Jane, or even Brian and Tim. Toby and Jack had a very noticeable, easy rapport that told me they were more than "business associates", they were very close friends. Jack actively listened, asking questions for clarity even as Toby was explaining. Toby hadn't even finished filling Jack in before they started devising plans, gears turning in both of their heads. Jack immediately knew who Zalgo was... it seemed they had a rough history from Jack's expression.

All the while, Jack was working on the body with even, practiced movements, almost graceful. First he removed the liver, and then the stomach and heart. They all were placed in the silver tray the kidneys had gone to. Then Jack took cuts of meat from seemingly random places, until I realized he was practicing necropsy, the cutting away of dead tissue. But instead of removing damaged meat, Jack was choosing choice cuts of the corpse and setting them aside with the organs he'd harvested, all meats that could be cleaned, cooked and eaten. I controlled the eye goop situation as I listened and tried to distance myself from what was happening before me as my stomach turned slightly. It wasn't the gore, it was the thought of Jack treating himself to kidneys a la Dennis later. I pushed the thought from my mind and told myself that I was just assisting in an autopsy and Dennis was an organ donor. I saw it on his ID after Jack sat it down.

"So I told Jack, uh, LJ, that we would meet" Toby was telling Jack, who seemed to be finished with Dennis, finally. He was pulling a sheet over him.

"Where?" Jack asked, "And when?" He paused, like he was still thinking, "And who else is coming?"

"Tim and Brian are bringing some other people, Jane too. And Helen Otis said he'd come. LJ, and he mentioned bringing someone too" I told Jack, pulling out the sat phone to text both Jane and Otis the time and location. As I was typing a group text, I told Jack the same thing my thumbs were tapping out, "Old cemetery in Forest Lawn, two nights from now, 0200."

Jack nodded, "I'll be there."

Toby smiled a little, "I know."

I yawned a little, the day and night finally catching up with me. When I opened my eyes from it, Jack and Toby were both looking at me.

"Let's get those meds so you two can go" Jack said to Toby, "besides Grace's yawn, your left eye is starting to twitch. And that only happens when you're tired." He wiped the blood from his hands with the cloth I'd been using on his face and retreated into the medicine closet.

Jack was right. As I looked at my darling, his left lower eyelid was almost quivering. Toby shot me a meek grin. He pulled me into a hug and Jack found us that way when he came back from the closet, a small paper bag was in his hands.

"Okay, lovebirds" Jack announced and Toby loosened his arms enough for me to turn to face Jack, but not enough for his arms to release me completely. Jack was smiling, sharks teeth on full display. "I've got Grace's antidepressants and yours, Toby. And then your meds for your Tourette's and Grace's shot, with a syringe. I'm trusting you can give it to yourself?"

I cast a hard look Jack's way and he laughed, "Okay, point taken."

Jack led us back to the front door, and he bid us a good day. The sun was just beginning to come up. Just before we returned to the car, Toby grabbed Jack and pulled him into a huge manhug. The taller man chuckled as he hugged Toby back, clapping him on the shoulder a few times. I went ahead and got in the car and Toby joined me a few moments later, sliding into the passenger seat.

"Let's go home, sweetness" Toby said, dropping a kiss on my cheek as I started the engine, "We're both tired, but we've still got a little bit of unfinished business to attend to before passing out." He grinned at me crookedly, squeezing my thigh as I shifted into reverse and backed out.

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pinknatural · 3 years

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After a long while, Jack straightens back up, wiping away his tears.

“Sorry about your shirt,” he says again. Dean waves his hand in dismissal. What’s some snot and tears?

“It’s fine,” he says again. “I mean it, kid.”

Jack looks like he might begin to cry all over again, but he sniffs and makes a valiant effort not to. They’re in a motel room--Dean couldn’t bear the Bunker, and Sam and Eileen’s honeymoon phase. He’s happy for them, of course he is, but seeing them so in love is kind of painful, and Dean could tell Sam was trying not to be overt about it to spare Dean’s feelings, and Dean just felt that, well--he might as well remove himself from the situation, at least for a little bit.

(Plus, now he has some peace and quiet--the motel room is littered with books and research, scrolls and files and other pieces of lore--all on the afterlife, of course. All on how to get there.)

“Okay,” Jack says. “Okay.” He raises a glowing hand to his own forehead, but he pauses when his fingers are about an inch away. He swallows.

“Come on, kid, what are you waiting for?” Dean asks.

“I could bring her back,” Jack whispers. “I should bring her back.”

He lowers his hand, turns a stricken gaze to Dean.

“Who?” Dean asks. He thinks, Kelly. He thinks, Maggie. He thinks, absurdly, Charlie.

“Emma,” Jack says.

Dean feels as if he’s been hit over the head.

“What?” he says. Has he turned into a fish and been left out on the docks? Where did all the air go?

“You’ve been thinking about her,” Jack says, like a confession. “Praying.” He has, if only because he’s been wallowing in what he can’t have, the husband, the daughter. He has, if only because he’s been wondering if the way to the Empty could be through Purgatory. Would he have time to sweep the place first? Would he be able to find her, unlike the last two times he was there?

“Yeah,” Dean tries to say, but no sound comes out. He tries again. “Yeah. You could really…?”

“I can do anything,” Jack says, with a sad, bitter smile, and Dean reaches for him. Jack falls into the embrace, wrapping his arms around Dean’s back, clinging to his shirt. Dean runs a hand up his back, cups the back of his neck.

“You don’t have to,” Dean says. It’s one of the hardest things he’s ever said. “God, kid, I’d like nothing more, but you don’t have to. You gotta do what’s best for you, you hear me?”

“I know,” Jack says. He sniffles. Dean thinks he might be crying again. “And I love Claire so much but I just want my sister. Dad, I want to bring her back.”

Dean squeezes his son. He closes his eyes.

“Then bring her back,” he whispers, and one of Jack’s hands leaves Dean’s back. Golden light shines, starting behind Dean and filling up the room, making it brighter and brighter and Jack gets smaller and smaller and Dean just holds on, tighter and tighter.

The light fades.

A little boy has his face buried in Dean’s gut, arms wrapped tight around Dean. They don’t even go all the way around, anymore. Dean runs a hand through Jack’s hair, stunned even though Jack told him this was what he wanted, even though they’d talked and talked about it before Jack decided to go through with it.

“What?” a tiny voice says, and Dean turns around.

Emma is standing there, only she’s not--she’s not exactly the Emma Dean remembers. Instead of being sixteen, she’s something like eight years old, eyes wide and hair tangled with leaves. She’s splattered with blood, and wearing the same clothes she’d died in--the same clothes Dean buried her in. They’re too big for her, and she looks like she’s on the verge of tears.

“What happened?” she asks, looking around the motel room wildly. “Where am I?”

“Emma,” Dean says, untangling himself from the three year old on the bed and kneeling, reaching out gently. He stays near the bed, afraid of spooking her. “You were rescued from Purgatory. You’re safe.” He turns to Jack. “Why is she little?”

“She’s human,” Jack says, shrugging. He’s chewing on the end of his sleeve, eyes wide. His clothes, at least, are three-year-old sized. Dean wonders where he’s supposed to get Emma some clothes, but there’s a pink suitcase sitting beside Dean’s duffel. The sight of it is too much, and he looks back at his daughter.

“Safe?” Emma repeats, looking down at her hands. She flexes her tiny fingers.

“Eight years have passed,” Dean says, still holding out his hands--he’s not sure if he’s trying to soothe her or reach for her. “You’re safe, you don’t have to kill anyone, I won’t hurt you.”

Emma looks around again. She sees her suitcase and stares at it, then swings her gaze back around. “Who’s that?” She points at Jack.

“That’s Jack, that’s my son,” Dean says. “Your brother. He brought you back.”

“How?”

“He was powered up--he was God--but now he’s just a kid,” Dean says. “He, um, wanted to bring you back.”

“Dada was prayin’ for you,” Jack says, voice muffled around the sleeve he’s still chewing. Dean reaches out and gently removes it from his mouth. “He wanted you to come back. I wanted to meet you.”

“Oh,” Emma says. She looks down at her pants. “I’m all dirty.”

“Yeah,” Dean says. “The bathroom’s over there if you want to--shower. I can help you if you want.”

Emma shakes her head and reaches for her suitcase. She goes into the bathroom, turning around and looking back at Dean and Jack, eyes wide, until she shuts the door behind her. Dean collapses back onto his feet, running his hands over his face, laughing incredulously.

“I did good?” Jack asks, sliding off the bed and crawling onto Dean’s lap. “I did good?”

“Yeah, buddy,” Dean says, voice cracking. He hears the shower turn on, the water begin to run. He curls up tight over Jack. “You did great.”

The first thing Cas is aware of is big blue eyes. The rest of the features on that face sharpen into a nose and mouth, grace smearing around the small face, and although it seems impossible, it can only be--

“Jack?”

“Daddy!” Jack cries, and he throws himself onto Cas. Cas catches him easily, holds his tiny body within his arms. Oh, he’s so small. His golden wings stretch as big as they go, which is not very big, to wrap themselves around Cas, and reflexively he wraps his own around Jack as well, holding him tight, rocking slightly back and forth.

Then he remembers--everything, and that he’s supposed to be dead, and he looks up.

Green eyes. Freckles, slightly crooked nose, beloved mouth, beloved jawline.

“Cas,” Dean croaks, and he falls to his knees. Cas is on the floor, legs crossed and Jack curled up on his lap. Cas doesn’t want to let go but Jack wiggles away, and Cas is afraid to reach out but helpless to do anything else.

Dean crawls toward him, falls against him. He presses his face into Cas’ neck and breathes, in and out, and Cas thinks he might be crying. But Cas is breathing Dean in, and he smells like the Impala (home) and guns (safety) and lemon (Dean) and Cas’ eyes aren’t very dry, either.

“You dumb son of a bitch,” Dean says, voice tucked safe into the place between Cas’ neck and shoulder. “You goddamned idiot. You stupid fucker. You dumbass, you, you.”

“Dean,” Cas says, and Dean shudders out a shaky breath, breathes heavily against him. Dean is alive in Cas’ arms, and he couldn’t be happier.

He tilts his gaze up, looking for Jack, and he finds instead a little girl with brown-blonde hair. She’s wearing a pink t-shirt and denim shorts and one of Dean’s flannels. She’s practically swimming in it, but her sleeves are rolled up and her eyes are the same apple-green as Dean’s, and Cas holds Dean tighter.

“Emma?” he asks. She nods and looks away uncomfortably.

“Emmie, Emmie, my daddy’s back,” Jack says, bouncing over to her and dancing around, wings flapping madly.

“Yeah,” Emma says.

Dean clears his throat and finally leans back from Cas. He reaches out an arm and Emma comes over to him, sitting on the floor beside him and tucking herself against his side. Dean wipes away tears with his other hand as Jack barrels back around, throwing himself into Cas’ lap. Cas holds him and looks around.

They’re in a motel room, two queen beds, identical to the countless ones Sam and Dean have stayed in over the years. But there’s a pink suitcase next to the TV and a blue duffel with sharks on it beside it. On one of the beds there’s a pair of stuffed rabbits, one pink and one yellow. There are various books and scrolls piled on the little table beside the couch and also piled onto the couch itself. Spell ingredients are on the floor, spread out over a placemat.

“Daddy,” Emma says, and Cas looks at her, tugging on Dean’s overshirt. His heart melts. Dean deserves nothing less, of course, but he knows what toll gaining then losing a daughter has had on Dean. He’s so glad that Dean can have her back, that she can have Dean, too, that she can have another chance. She deserves it, and already Cas looks at her and sees her hair in a careful braid and her Wonder Woman socks and he knows he would die for her. “If me and Jack are siblings and you’re Jack’s dad and that’s Jack’s dad, too, then. Um.”

She looks at Cas nervously. Dean squeezes her shoulders.

“Me and Cas have to talk about all that,” Dean says. Cas is astounded that it’s not an instant denial.

“We do?” he asks, and Dean meets his gaze head on.

“Yeah,” he says. “We got a lotta stuff to talk about, you and me. Kids, why don’t you watch some TV and Cas and I’ll go outside.”

Jack scrambles off of Cas’ lap and turns around, presses a wet kiss to Cas’ cheek, then he climbs onto the bed with the stuffed animals. He grabs onto the yellow bunny and Emma crawls beside him, putting the pink bunny on her lap and pointing the remote at the TV. Cas stands and offers his hand to Dean, who takes it, lets Cas pull him up.

Dean goes outside and Cas follows, of course he does. They don’t let go of each other’s hands.

“Why are we in a motel?” Cas asks. Dean shrugs.

“Needed some space,” he says. “Then I wasn’t sure how big of a house to get.”

“A house?”

“Yeah,” Dean says. He rubs at the back of his neck with his free hand. “Can’t raise kids in a bunker, come on man.”

“What about Sam?”

“He’s fine,” Dean says. “On a hunt with Eileen.”

“Oh,” Cas says, slightly confused.

“Yeah, I dunno,” Dean says. “Salt-and-burn in Orlando, I think. So, um, listen, man…”

“Thank you for getting me out of the Empty,” Cas blurts, afraid Dean is about to reject him. He has always known Dean would do so, but he thinks to hear it would be--upsetting.

“Of course,” Dean says. “You’re, um. I couldn’t just leave you there, you’re--”

“Family?” Cas suggests.

“Yeah,” Dean says. He takes a step forward. “Though, you know, I’ve been thinkin’ about what we are to each other.”

“You have?” Cas takes a step back when Dean takes another step forward.

“Yeah,” Dean breathes. “Living together, raising a kid together, dying for each other. Never wanting to be apart.”

“Oh?” Cas says, and his back hits the wall. Dean stands over him, caging him in with only one hand--the other still wrapped around Cas’ palm, their fingers intertwined.

“You know what that sounds like?” Dean asks, breath ghosting along Cas’ jaw, and Cas can’t really think. Why is Dean standing so close to him?

“Family?” Cas croaks, brain stuck on the word. Family, they’re family.

“I was thinking it sounded like husbands, Cas,” Dean says, and then Cas doesn’t have to worry about why Dean is standing so close anymore, because Dean kisses him, and Cas’ brain ceases functioning--but it’s okay, because if Dean says they’re husbands, who is Cas to argue?

Sam pulls up to the motel after dropping Eileen off at the Bunker. She was tired from driving all night and Sam doesn’t blame her, but he can’t believe he’s missed everything while he went to one measly salt-and-burn.

He parks the car and gets out, crossing the parking lot. He knocks on the door and Claire opens it. She looks the same as always, except she has a purple stuffed bunny peeking out of her jacket pocket. Sam is smart enough not to comment on this.

She steps aside and lets him in, and Emma squeaks and practically climbs up Dean when she sees him. It’s a work in progress, with her, and Sam feels terrible but he’s not sure what he can do besides give her time, so he looks away and instead turns to Cas, who smiles when he sees him.

“Sam!” he says, and he stands up from the couch, crosses the room and hugs him.

“It’s good to see you,” Sam says, clapping Cas on the back.

“Sam!” Jack says, and he barrels towards Sam’s legs with the determination of a battering ram, and Sam intercepts him before he can make contact, picking him up and swinging him over his shoulder. Jack laughs and laughs, and Kaia waves at Sam from her spot curled up on the couch.

“This motel room is very full,” Sam says, looking around, and Dean grins at him.

“That’s why we’re shopping, Sammy,” he says, and he points at his laptop.

“Find anything good?” Sam asks, crossing the room to sit on the couch so he can see the computer. He deposits Jack into Cas’ arms, and Dean comes to sit on his other side. Emma stays on the bed, hiding behind Claire, who’s obviously taking guard-duty pretty seriously since she’s half-glaring at Sam.

Sam looks away and turns his gaze toward the computer.

“We weren’t finding any good listings so we’re looking for some land, now,” Dean says.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay in the Bunker? We’ve got a lotta room,” Sam says.

“Nah,” Dean says. He slings his arm around Cas, who’s perched on the arm of the couch. “We need a house.”

“Windows,” Cas says solemnly, tangling his and Dean’s fingers, and Sam notes the movement with a pleased smile.

“But if we build a house we can add-in wards and stuff, right into the foundations,” Dean says. “We can make sure it’s safe, and good.”

“Will you build it?” Sam asks, even though he knows the answer.

“Damn straight,” Dean says. The silver band on his ring finger flashes as he shuts the laptop. Jack crawls into Kaia’s lap, and she wraps her arms around him.

“I think it’s a good idea,” she says.

“Yeah,” Sam says. He meets his brother’s eyes. “Me too.”

(ao3)

#girl this got so much longer than i thought it would be #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #emmanatural #jack kline #emma winchester #sam winchester #claire novak #kaia neives #i hope u guys like that all i do is write emma or cas gets rescued over and over again with slightly different variations #writingtag

396 notes · View notes

x-reader-theater · 3 years

Note

We know that Spencer wants kids like he says so in the serie so I was think a Spencer x male reader where the reader work at the bau with him and Spencer got a crush on him and one day the reader's kid come and the team met them and Spencer like '' you have a kid? '' and I don't know but I know that he will be such a good dad and a lot of fluff and sweet Spencer

I really hope you like this one! I always get really mad at the writers whenever they mention that Spencer can't have kinds but like, he can, just not biological ones. Like, he can adopt or find a partner that has a kid and he'll still be a great dad. I poured a lot of that frustration into making this as cute as possible. @mystic-writes edited this, as well as everything else that I write I just like @ing her every time loll. Also, I'm running out of gifsssssssss

"Hey, Spence!" you exclaim, sitting at the desk across from his.

His cheeks flare up red and he whispers, "Hey, [Y/N]."

You smile at him. "Have a good weekend?"

He nods. "Yeah, I watched a couple documentaries, read some new books I just got-"

"Oh!" you exclaim, making Spencer jump in his seat. You rummage around in your backpack before pulling out a book, and handing it to him. "I got you this. I don't know if you already have it, or have read it, but, I thought you might like it," you say, holding the book out to him.

He grabs it and reads the title. “Timechart History of the World: 6000 Years of World History Unfolding.” It's a thick book, with more than 500 pages at least, and a smile lights up Spencer's face.

"Where did you find this?" he asks and you shrug.

"Got an ad for something similar online, but it didn't look too credible. So, I did some digging, and found this," you say, gesturing to the book in Spencer's hands.

He grins at you and says, "Thank you, so much! I-I'm sorry I don't have anything for you…"

You wave him off, saying, "Really, it's no big deal. It's a gift." He nods, but doesn't seem convinced until you say, "Happy Birthday, Spencer."

You were the only one who remembered.

–

"Hotch, I really need to talk to you," you say, gripping your son's hand tightly, but not enough to hurt. Looking from your son to you, he nods and motions for you to follow him into his office, where he closes the door and shuts the blinds. He sits down in his chair and you motion for Harry to sit on the couch, pulling out a children's book for him to read while you talk with Hotch.

"Who's this?" he asks and you smile as you sit down.

"My son, Harrison. Most people just call him Harry," you explain and Hotch nods, but doesn't speak. "I'm so sorry to have to ask this, but Harry's school has a day off and he's too young to stay at home alone, and his normal sitter works during the day and I don't have family out here and I don't trust another sitter and-"

"[L/N]. It's okay. I get it," Hotch says and you suck in a deep breath. "Strauss says we're not getting any cases after our last one went so wrong. As long as he doesn't get in the way or distract too much, it's okay."

You sigh and smile gratefully, yet tiredly, and say quietly, "Thank you so much for this. I owe you, big time."

Hotch shakes his head. "I know what it's like to be a single parent. I'm just lucky I have Jessica," he says and you nod. "If a case comes up, you can go home and take care of your son. We'll call you if we need anything." You nod and get up out of the chair, and turn towards Harry when Hotch says, "Oh, and [L/N]?" You turn around and face him. "Maybe Harry can meet Jack sometime? I would have asked sooner if I knew…"

You smile. "I think that would be a lot of fun. They're roughly the same age."

Hotch nods and you hold your hand out to Harry, who takes it, and you lead him to your desk in the bullpen. You set up a blanket and some toys and books underneath your desk, and Harry makes himself very happy by your feet as you crack open a few case files and start working on some extra work.

A couple of hours later, the bullpen is filled with your colleagues, chatting idly, pawning work off onto Spencer, which you take some of to lighten his workload, and people grabbing each other coffee. You haven't gotten up once, instead staying seated, unintentionally hiding your son underneath your desk.

But, that wouldn't last forever.

"Papa?" you hear Harry call from underneath you, quietly.

Spencer's head snaps up, as well as JJ's, and you pull your chair back to look at your son and say, "Yes, sweetheart?"

"I'm hungry," he says, and you nod, reaching into your bag and pulling out a little Iron Man lunch box.

You place it on your desk and hold your arms out, saying, "You have to eat at the desk, but you can sit in my lap."

He nods and crawls up into your lap, and you see now everyone's looking at you as Harry hides his face in your chest. "It's okay, sweetie. They're Papa's friends," you say quietly, and Harry turns around enough to open his lunch box, pull out a packet of goldfish, and turn back into your chest, opening it and eating. You smile and kiss his head.

"Who's this?" JJ asks and you smile when Harry presses his face even further into your chest.

"This is Harrison. But, you can call him Harry," you say, rubbing one of your hands up and down his back. "He's my son."

"Son?" Morgan says, frowning. "I didn't know you were married."

You shake your head. "I'm not. Never was. It was a one night stand. Didn't realize that the condom broke. She died shortly after she had him, and I was given custody. I was a twenty-something just starting with the FBI, who now had a four-week-old living with him," you say, and everyone looks at you, shocked. Even Harry is looking at you like you haven't told him this a million times before. "But, I wouldn't change it for the world. He's the best thing to ever happen to me."

Emily and JJ both "Aw!" and Derek smiles. Spencer's still looking at you, shocked.

"Did you know that male emperor penguins exhibit a feature unique among penguins. If the chick hatches before the female returns, the male, despite his fasting, is able to produce and secrete a curd-like substance from his esophagus to feed the chick, allowing for survival and growth for up to two weeks," Spencer explains. "Which makes them one of the best fathers in the animal kingdom."

You smile and hug Harry closer to you, saying, "My little penguin."

He laughs and moves his face away from your chest and says, "Papa really likes seahorses."

"Yes! Seahorses are also great father's. In fact.."

Spencer rambles about anything Harry asks about, and eventually, the boy gets up from your lap and settles in Spencer's, just listening to him talk about nothing and everything. You actually manage to get all your work done, as well as some of Spencer's to make sure he isn’t seen as slacking off, though you don't know how he could ever be seen that way.

Eventually, the end of the day comes, and you gather up all of your things from underneath and on top of your desk, putting them away in your bag, and you go around the desks to hold your arms out to Harry.

"Alright, sweetheart. Time to go home," you say, and in protest he just wraps his arms tighter around Spencer's neck. You sigh. "Honey, Spencer probably has things to do. We should let him go home."

Harry whimpers and Spencer actually wraps an arm around him. "I don't mind. Honestly. I can come home with you and then walk home. It's not a big deal."

You shake your head. "If you're coming home with us, you're not leaving without dinner." Spencer nods and you grab his satchel for him, slinging it around your shoulders as he carries Harry out, still talking about nothing.

You cook Spencer a good, home cooked meal, and when you drive him home that night, you kiss him.

Six months later, Harry calls him "Dad" and you realize that, before this moment, you've never seen Spencer cry tears of joy before.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x male reader #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #my work #my writing

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Text

Always You | JJK (Three)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?),oc and jungkook being adorable bffs, shady tae, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, mentions of sex, vaginal intercourse, hickeys, orgasms,

Notes: I actually really enjoyed writing this part! Where’s my bff for bff bubble bath? Lmaaoo. Anyway, thanks again for taking the time to read. Don’t forget to send me an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or if you just want to chat about the story!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredescarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @jkslachimolala

Previous----Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You want me to what now?” your voice is unnecessarily high pitched.

“Meet my parents.” Taehyung gives you that awkward Chrissy Teigen meme smile. “Listen—I know it sounds crazy and horrifying but they’re really nice…”

“But why?”

“It’s my fault…I didn’t consider having my sister on social media…and I keep posting you and she told my parents and they’re real excited about me having a girlfriend…and I don’t want to crush them.”

You and Taehyung are seated on your living room couch, enjoying a lazy Thursday afternoon after classes. He brings his cup of water to his lips and takes some generous gulps.

“Listen, y/n I will literally pay another month’s worth of coffee…please just think about it.”

More free coffee? Fuck, that’s kind of a steal considering how expensive that shit is and you no doubt have an addiction.

“…fine…” you say hesitantly, “when?”

“Really?” Taehyung lights up like a spot light, “Well, I was thinking this weekend?”

“T-This weekend? That soon? Which day?”

Taehyung showcases a sheepish grin as he rubs the back of his neck, a habit of his no doubt.

“Like, the whole weekend.”

Your eyebrows crawl to the top of your head as you gape at him, “What do you mean?”

“Like, we would get there in time for dinner on Friday, then stay all day Saturday and leave Sunday morning before they leave for church. Unless you wanna go to church with th—”

“No, not really.” You run your fingers through your long strands, “Holy shit, okay we are doing this.” You nod to yourself, “What’s our story? You know they’re going to ask.”

“Huh? Uh…just the truth. I met you through Jungkook and we hit it off and we started dating.”

You sigh to yourself, wishing that were actually true.

“Just be yourself, y/n.” Taehyung smiles at you. You beam back at him, and his boxy smile only grows wider. “They’ll like you, it’s not that hard to…” his hand reaches for yours, your palms are a bit sweaty since you are feeling like a nervous wreck at the thought of meeting his parents.

Suddenly, the front door swings open and in comes your best friend (who is still mad at you). He walks in slowly eyeing the two of you on the sofa. He notices Taehyungs hand wrapped around yours and Taehyung quickly pulls away. Jungkook takes a look at your face, you’re lost in thought, nibbling on your bottom lip.

Jungkook is yes, still mad at you but also, since he jacked it to your face he is being a little nicer. But as much as he has tried not to have those type of thoughts of you before, it’s not like he hasn’t. So, he’s gotten good at pretending all is well.

“What’s with her?” Jungkook pries, walking closer to the sofa.

“Noth—”

“I’m meeting Tae’s parents.” You cut in to say.

Jungkook’s brows crease as he looks between you and Taehyung. He shakes his head in disbelief, stepping closer to the two of you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jungkook mutters under his breath. “You’re going this far?” now Jungkook’s face is tilted towards Taehyung. “Why are you going this far dude?” Taehyung stands to his feet, “I—”

“No man, you’ve already dragged her into your shit and now you want her to what, meet your parents?” Jungkook’s voice rises in volume and you start to feel uneasy. Taehyung shakes his head, “Jungkook—”

“End this.” Jungkook spits out, getting in Taehyungs face. “How is this fair for her…”

You stand up too, your hand pulling him back by the shoulder. “Jungkook stop.” Your voice is unusually calm.

“I’m helping Tae out because we’re friends and also, ya know, free coffee.” Jungkook turns to face you, his teeth gritting in frustration.

“You have no idea what you’re doing.” Jungkook whispers. And with that he takes one more look at Taehyung, shakes his head in disapproval and walks off towards his room.

You and Taehyung continue to stand there in silence, you feel embarrassed because of Jungkook’s actions and ashamed you didn’t do more to stop him. Taehyung on the other hand looks completely defeated.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook I don’t know why he—”

“I should go,” Taehyung cuts you off, he gives you a weak smile before grabbing his things and heading towards the door.

“Are we still on for this weekend?” you sway from side to side, feeling as awkward as you probably look.

Taehyung doesn’t answer right away, instead he rubs the back of his neck with a frown decorating his face. Finally, he meets your eyes and offers another weak smile.

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up at 4 tomorrow.” He doesn’t wait for a response as he is already walking out the door, closing it softly behind him.

You’re left alone in the living room with nothing but a cold, empty couch and your million racing thoughts. Why is Jungkook so against you and Tae? Maybe Jungkook is afraid that you’ll become so close with Tae that he thinks you’ll replace him…but you know in your heart of hearts Jungkook is irreplaceable. Why can’t Jungkook understand that? You haven’t been spending as much time with him lately and maybe that’s the problem. What can’t a drunken slumber party not solve?

You knock on his door, waiting for a ‘come in’ but it never comes. So you knock again. And again. Until finally Jungkook swings open the door with a frustrated sigh and pained look on his face.

“Look, before you scold me—”

“Actually, I had an idea.” You say quickly.

“Oh?” Jungkook’s features relax.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had one of our BFF slumber parties.” You slant your head to the side, a sly smile forming on your lips.

Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds before his eyes fill with something interesting.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “it’s been a while.”

“What do you say? Tonight? Me and you? Wine? Anime? Video games? BFF bubble bath?”

“Wow, you want the works.” Jungkook grins. “But you realize I’m still…” he takes a deep breath when he notices your worried, pleading eyes. “Step into my office and we can discuss the details.” He says, opening his door wider, inviting you inside.

His room looks clean besides the few articles of clothing scattered on the ground. He has a scented candle going and LoFi music playing lowly on his speakers. Lofi and candle? He only has that combo when he’s stressed and trying to calm down.

You take a seat on the edge of his made bed, and Jungkook follows you, also taking a seat on his bed next to you.

“14% and up only for the wine.” He states.

“Agreed. Action or horror for the anime.” You pitch in.

“Agreed. Mario Kart for the video game.”

“Agreed. Life altering secrets only for BFF Bubble Bath.”

Jungkook chews on his lips as he thinks of your request. “Okay.”

You clap your hands excitedly for tonight, your chest bubbling with happiness. This is what you and Jungkook need.

~~~~~~

Jungkook is even more excited for BFF slumber party night than you are. He’s missed you. There’s been a real disconnect with the two of you lately and thinks tonight is exactly what the two of you need. He is just coming home from buying 4 bottles of 16% wine and lots of snacks. He got the salty, the sweet and the sour. Feeling proud of his choices, he sets the groceries down and calls for you.

You walk out from the bathroom with a facemask glued to your face with another packet in your hand,

“For you, sir.”

Jungkook chuckles as he grabs the pack from your hands, “Okay, I’ll go put this on, while you pour us some wine.” He nods towards the bottles.

You happily oblige. You grab the cork screw from its designated place in the kitchen drawer and begin to open the first bottle of wine. It opens smoothly, without a hitch.

“Wow…engineering is amazing.” You whisper to yourself in awe.

“What’s amazing?” Jungkook walks into the kitchen, you take a long look at his appearance. The white facemask making him look like a ghost.

“Your face.” You chuckle, a finger going up to touch the material on his skin.

You twirl to face the kitchen cabinets and pull out two wine glasses for you and your BFF and poor a gracious amount of wine in each. You hand him the glass and you clank the glasses together in cheers.

“To us.” You chirp happily, chugging back a gulp of your drink.

Jungkook just watches as you wince at the disgusting flavor and cackles to himself before taking a sip of his own drink.

The two of you grab the bottle of wine and your glasses and make your way into the living room.

“Alright we go by the normal house rules, whichever place you get is how many seconds you chug your drink.” You explain.

“Are you talking to an imaginary audience y/n? I already know the rules.” Jungkook teases.

“I was just trying to get the competitive mood going.” You poke your tongue out, Jungkook is quick to try to grab it between his fingers.

“Ugh, you are so gross.” You groan.

“You love it.” Jungkook smiles so wide his eyes begin to disappear. “Well, let’s play!”

One thing you absolutely can’t stand but also completely adore about Jungkook is that he is a sore loser. And also an ungracious fucking winner.

“You SUCK!” Jungkook cackles obnoxiously in your face, “Like I hope you enjoy chugging for five—no, SIX seconds you mother fuckin loser.” He continues to laugh loudly much to your annoyance but a part of you feels warm that he is having so much fun. You haven’t seen him laugh like this in weeks.

“Okay I get it.” You roll your eyes so far back into your head all you see is whites.

This was the 3rd time in a row you’re getting 6th place, your vision is started to blur at the amount of alcohol you’ve chugged. But only a little, nothing you can’t handle.

“Okay y/n let’s stop now, we can watch some anime while we order some pizza?” he grins your way. “I vote Tokyo ghoul. And the rule is we drink every time Kaneki is fucking cry baby.”

“Well damn, guess we’re getting fucked up.” You declare. You and Jungkook laugh to yourselves at the thought.

The show is on, pizza has been ordered. Life is good. You sneak a glance at Jungkook as he pays attention to the show on screen. You smile when he smiles, you smile when he laughs, you smile when he pouts. Jungkook finally manages to notice you staring at him and snaps his head to you.

“What?” he asks with a toothy grin.

“Nothing…” you sing, your bright smile rivaling the light coming from the TV.

It’s been several hours, two medium pizzas have been demolished, 4 wine bottles have been drank and lots of anime has been watched. You and Jungkook sit on the sofa wrapped in blankets, neither one of you wanting to get up to turn the fan off.

“So cold.” You slur.

“Come closer.” Jungkook slurs back.

“Or we can warm up with BFF Bubble Bath?” you offer, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Jungkook zones out for a second, thinking of your request.

“Been a while since we had one of those, huh?” he finally says something.

“yeah, which is a real shame, isn’t it? I mean, we literally get into our swim suits, draw a hot bubble bath, get in sitting opposite of each other and tell each other our secrets, our hopes and dreams. Then we make a wish that the other person HAS to support and we can’t tell anyone else or else it won’t come true.” You mumble mostly to yourself.

“y/n…once again are you speaking to an imaginary audience?” he chuckles, “I know what a BFF Bubble Bath is.”

“Then hurry up and draw that bubble bath mister know it all.”

Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror, he’s got on his red swim trunks. His hair is a fucking mess, and his eyes are giving away how intoxicated he is but he’s got this dopey smile on his face that he decides is a good look on him. He looks happy. He feels happy.

You walk into the bathroom and eye your best friend. You can’t help but drop your gaze to his thighs, God, you love when he wears tight pants or shorts.

“What’s up buff guy?” you tease, grabbing a hold of his bicep.

“Shut up” Jungkook shudders from your touch. Then he takes one long look at you and he wants to faint. You’re also wearing a red swim suit, it’s one of those strapless kind. The two of you eye each other up and down, observing your matching swim suits and shoot each other some finger guns.

“hehe…well, shall we?” you say, gesturing towards the bubble filled tub.

Jungkook nods his head yes and motions for you to step in first.

The water is hotter than you are expecting, your toes wet with lava. But it’s just how you like it, you have both legs in as you begin to sink deeper into the bubbled water.

“come on in” you wave Jungkook over, he drunkenly stumbles forward until he’s wincing at the hot water that meets his skin.

“You’re really the queen of Hell if this temperature is enjoyable to you.” He deadpans.

“Why thank you, does that make you my loyal servant?”

“ha-ha.”

You and Jungkook stare at each other for a while, enjoying the drunken haze.

“So anything new going on with you?” you begin to pry.

You prying is never a good thing but you can never help yourself. His past is such a mystery to you and it drives you nuts. You’re supposed to be best friends yet he can’t even tell you about his parents without it getting real awkward. He knows all about your family history, but all you know about his is that his dad cheated the whole marriage and his mom finally left him for it—leaving Jungkook behind as well. You understand why it must be hard to talk about but...doesn’t he want to confide in you? You of all people?

“Not really.” Jungkook fingers play with the bubbles at his chest.

“Any girls? Like not just hookups but—”

“Don’t worry about that.”

Such a fucking Jungkook thing to say, it’s always ‘don’t worry about that y/n’ and never ‘let me actually tell you some real information y/n’.

“Jungkook,” you wine into the bubbles.

“Hm?”

“Don’t you have a girl you like???” and suddenly drunk y/n doesn’t want to know this answer. Would sober you?

Jungkook looks down at his wrinkling hands and doesn’t know what to say. Does he?

“No.” is the answer he settles for. And suddenly relief is washed over you.

You want to ask him the thing you are most curious about—his family. But he has said it a million times to you every time he’s asked—its ‘a touchy subject’.

“Ask about it.” He suddenly says, “I know you want to.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, yes indeed I have no clue.” You slur.

“Y/N.” he warns.

“Fine…when’s the last time you talked to your dad? I know he made mistakes…but I also know he has tried reaching out to you over and over. He calls almost every day Jungkook! Maybe he’s changed. I know your mom left because of everything and you blame your d—”

“Mom…” he begins to cut you off. You notice his eyes gloss over and you feel your heart drop. Jungkook rarely cries and rarely cries in front of anyone. Then he’s clearing his throat, “You’re right. Moms not in the picture anymore and I do blame dad.”

“I hate that your mom left you Jungkook…” you say softly. “She’s the worst for that,”

“You have no idea.” Jungkook breathes out. “Let’s change the subject, please.”

“But—”

“Please, y/n.” his eyes are pleading and you feel your heart drop again. You wonder if he will ever be ready to talk about it.

“Actually…” he awkwardly plays with the bubbles in front of his chest, “There’s something I want to say.”

“What is it?” you can’t help but feel anxious all the sudden.

Jungkook avoids your eyes as he plays with the bubbles, he takes a few deep breaths before lifting his head.

“I’m sorry.”

You tilt your head, “Sorry for what?”

“I’ve…” Jungkook scrunches his face up, contemplating what to say. “I’ve been really unfair to you. I should of never treated you this way…I don’t know what came over me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was hurt, yes, that you chose Taehyung over me but since the beginning I’ve been such an asshole. Fuck, y/n…” his voice cracks, “I’m so sorry. I just wish I could…” he pauses, shaking his head. “No, it’s nothing. I just hope you’ll be careful with Taehyung.” He shakes his head again, “Oh my god, I am so selfish.” He laughs pathetically. “I’m sorry…”

You stay quiet for several moments, you want to agree with him. Yeah it was fucked up what you did, but he wasn’t any better this whole time.

“Why were you such an asshole?” you finally ask.

“Don’t worry about it y/n.” GOD DAMN. You are tired of that response!

You scoff, “And why are you so wary of Taehyung? I don’t get it!”

“Can you just trust me? Please?”

“I’ll just trust my own judgment for now…”

“y/n…” then he is looking into your eyes more seriously, “I’m sorry.”

You bite your lip as you think about his apology. Is he sorry? By the looks of it, yes. But he was so childish…you decide to grab his hand and play with his fingers. He stares down at your hands and smiles softly.

“Will you behave?” you tease lightly. Your fingers weaving through his. He looks up at you with his big doe eyes and nods his head slowly.

“Yes.”

“Then I will forgive you for now but you’re on thin fucking ice, buddy.”

Jungkook can’t help but laugh a little. “Yes mam.”

“Fine!” you say clasping your hands together, “Secret time!”

“Oh great,” Jungkook chuckles. “You first”

“Okay, hmmmmm.” You hold your chin up in deep thought. “Okay I got one I have never told you.” You grin mischievously.

“Okay, go for it.”

“When I was really drunk I most definitely made out with Trina.”

“Yeah, I was there. I’m the one who told you that you should kiss her. I said kiss though, like a peck. But your ass added tongue and all.”

“Wait what? Why would you tell me to do that!”

“I thought it would be hot.” He shrugs.

“Wack.” You slap his hand, “Your turn.”

“Ummm…” Jungkook leans back in the tub, “I’m the one who told Jimin to dare me to kiss you our freshmen year.” Jungkook says just above a whisper. He’s been holding in that secret for 3 years.

“Wait, what?” you ask, totally off guard.

“Yeah.” Is all he responds with.

“You wanted to kiss me back then?”

“Wasn’t it obvious considering how things escalated…”

Your eyes expand in size, the memory of that night flashing in your mind.

“We agreed to never talk about it, ya know, to save our friendship and what not.” You point out.

The bubbles cover your bathing suit perfectly so little was left to the imagination. Jungkook keeps eyeing the swell of your breasts and the pop of your collarbones, you look naked if he has to be honest. And if he has to be honest it was starting to turn him on. Should that be a secret he shares?

“Jungkook?” you say for the 4th time trying to get him out of whatever drunken daze he was in.

“Huh?” he comes back down to earth. “What did you say?”

“I said, what are your dreams?”

“You know them already,” he shrugs.

“Video editor still?”

“Yeah. Maybe Director.” He smiles timidly, “What about yours?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re in school for marketing. So something with that?”

“I just chose that because I know I can find a job in the field.” You sigh.

Jungkook studies your features, you look troubled. He leans forward to grab your hands again and says , “Whatever you wanna do, you’ll be great at it,”

You crease your brows together and a pout forms on your lips, “You think so?”

“I know so.”

The two of you smile at one another until you break the silence, “Its getting too hot we should get out soon.”

“Agreed.” Jungkook nods his head.

“Alright let’s make our wishes that we MUST support.” You stick your pinky out for Jungkook to take, “I’ll go first.” Then you become shy with your next words, “I wish Taehyung would feel the same way about me I do about him.”

Jungkook’s smile falters but he takes your pinky anyway.

“My turn…I just…I wish you will be happy.”

You widen your eyes, “Wow,” you say, “What a selfless wish. You shouldn’t waste it on me!”

“It’s my greatest wish right now though…” he slurs his words.

You can’t help but smile as you take his pinky in promise.

Now in some fresh pajamas, you and Jungkook both stand in front of his bedroom door. The two of you are pretty damn drunk but holding it together quite nicely. He sways from side to side with that bunny smile and you can’t help but lean in for a hug. He takes a moment but he hugs you back. You pull away much too quickly for his liking.

“Hey y/n…”

“Yeah?”

Jungkook clears his throat a few times, his eyes darting all around the place, “Could you ever…hate me?”

“Never.” You answer quickly.

Jungkook is hit with a wave of guilt, a wave so big it comes crashing and knocking him down.

“Would if…no, never mind.”

“Never.” You say again.

Jungkook’s smiles fades a bit before a new smile takes over.

“I understand. Goodnight y/n.” and he leans down and places a kiss on your cheek. “sleep well.”

Fire. You feel the burn of fire. His kiss lingered for a second too long because you are burning. His kiss was scorching hot and you can’t help but melt from the heat. You are left speechless. From a kiss on the cheek.How did a kiss on the mother fucking cheek have you reacting this way?

“G-Goodnight Jung—” but the door is already softly closing in your face before you can finish your sentence.

~~~~~

The sun is coming through the blinds in the most offending way, you want to open your eyes and start the day but you just cannot. You have a raging headache from all the wine you quickly drank and you come to accept your fate—you’re hungover. As hell. You crack one eye open to see the time on the clock: 1:52pm

Immediately you sit up in bed, realizing you have slept way too long. How late did you and Jungkook stay up last night? Oh, last night. You smile softly at the memories of the night before. It was a perfect BFF slumber party. You haven’t seen Jungkook that happy in a while and you wonder if the same goes for you.

But then reality sets in—Taehyung is going to be here in 2 hours and you haven’t even thought about what you’re packing for your trip. You still need to eat, shower and get ready. You begin to mentally pack for your trip when you hear a single knock on your door before its opening up and a wild Jungkook appears.

“Morning sleepyhead.” He says with his signature bunny grin on his face.

“Jungkook! Help me pack!” you jump out of bed and walk to your closet, dragging out an oversized overnight bag.

“Like, parent appropriate clothes—I am freaking out by the way. I am meeting Tae’s parents and would if they don’t like me?”

“Relax, relax.” Jungkook walks inside your closet, bringing out a few clothing options. “They’re going to love you.”

“Do you…” you chew on your bottom lip, “Do you think your parents would have loved me?” you ask cautiously.

Jungkook freezes. He is silent for several long moments, making you believe you should not have asked that. But then he turns to face you with a strange smile, “Mom and dad would have adored you.” Then he pats your shoulder. “I put in some good options by the way.” He says pointing to the bag.

“Oh thanks.” You say totally caught off guard. “Okay I’m going to shower can you please, pretty please make me something to eat? I will love you forever.”

“You already love me forever.” Jungkook states matter of fact. “But sure, but don’t blame me if you don’t like what I make.”

“Oh god, you’re making me instant ramen aren’t you?”

“Love you.” He says, walking out of your room.

~~~~~~

“I made a playlist for our drive.” Taehyung hands you his phone, “It’s called ‘Meet the Parents’” he laughs to himself, pointing at the playlist on the screen for you to click.

“The first song is called ‘Please love me’ by Colde” you chuckle, “You think you are funny, don’t you?”

“Maybe a little” he smirks. “But really, relax. My parents are chill, they’re gonna like you, I promise.

“Well, we have a 2 hour drive Tae Tae.” Taehyung blushes hard at the nickname and for once it does not go unnoticed by you.

“I have a question for you y/n…”

You quirk a brow at his curiosity, “What is it?”

“How do you have the opportunity to fake date me? Like, don’t you have someone you like or guys chasing after you?”

“Oh I don’t have much luck with that.” You answer honestly. “With dating and such.”

“And why’s that?” he pries deeper.

“To be honest most guys I have dated end up dumping me if I don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

You grip your purse in your lap, your hold so tight your fingers become sore.

“Dump Jungkook.” You breathe out, “They were always so jealous of him…and… gave me a choice. Them or him,” you pick at the material of your purse, “I always chose Jungkook.” You huff, “Besides I didn’t like those guys that much anyway.”

Taehyung is quietly listening to you, nodding his head at your words. Once at a stop light he turns to face you,

“Yet when I asked you to dump Jungkook, you did.” He points out in a hushed tone.

“I…” you pause, thinking carefully on what to say. “I guess I did.”

Taehyung smiles. But it isn’t his boxy grin, it’s an odd smile. You become anxious, “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“Right.” Taehyung says before facing the road again, accelerating through the green light.

“How did you and Jungkook becomes so close anyway?”

You can’t help but simper.

“Well, we met at a frat party but ended up at a 24 diner until like 9 the next morning. We just—we just really hit it off. I felt like I could say or be anything in front of Jungkook and he would always just give me a silly look and accept whatever it is, whatever I am. You know when you just vibe with someone so well?” you ask, not really expecting an answer.

“Well that was us. We could say anything and still always want to continue the conversation. We ended up taking some of the same classes and studied together then that turned into regular hang outs and then it was like bam—I was with him almost every day.” You smile fondly at the memories.

Taehyung glances at you, he wears a sad smile as he asks, “Have either of you ever caught feelings for the other?”

You choke on the air around you, “What?” then that night from freshmen year flashes in your mind, “No…no.” you say trying to convince him, or is it to convince yourself?

The next few minutes are pretty quiet during the drive, but nothing awkward. You unzip your purse to pull out your phone to see you have unread messages from Jimin.

Jimin 5:30pm

Hey babe, heard you were going to meet Tae’s parents

Jimin 5:31pm

How is Jungkook feeling?

y/n 5:44pm

what do u mean

Jimin 5:45pm

y/n…nothing girl

y/n 5:45pm

????

Jimin 5:46pm

It’s really nothing. Anyway

Jimin 5:46pm

You and tae huh

Jimin 5:46pm

I am happy for you and tae…if that’s what you really want

You stare down at the phone in your hands, contemplating whether to tell Jimin the truth. He is one of your best friends after all.

y/n 5:55pm

tbh with u jimin…im not really dating tae..were just pretending to get this girl off his back

Jimin 5:56pm

What???? Really?? Wait, what girl?

y/n 5:57pm

Some chick named Anna

Jimin 5:57pm

Wait…Anna…?

Incoming call: Jimin

“Are you going to answer that?” Taehyung asks from beside you.

You want to but you two are pulling into his parents drive way and you don’t want your first impression to be that you were on your phone, so you send Jimin a quick text that you can’t talk.

You and Taehyung step out of the car and his parents are already standing outside on the porch. His father has his wife in his arms, they look happy to see Taehyung—they look happy in general.

“Oh! My baby bear!” his mother strides forward until Taehyung is wrapped in her loving arms. She sways their bodies back and forth as she smiles and laughs, the joy of having her son with her evident.

Taehyungs dad is about the same, he pulls him in for a tight hug and scolds him for not visiting more. Then it is your turn. You stand there awkwardly but not for long because Taehyungs mother is embracing you all the same.

“I have seen lots of pictures of you! But you are even prettier in person!” she gushes, her hands holding yours. You can’t help the blush that creeps up on your face as she speaks to you.

“Why don’t you two come inside?” his father gestures towards the house, “We got dinner nice and hot.”

Taehyung blushes as he watches his parents interact with you, he knew they would warm up to you fast but still it makes his heart race.

Dinner goes by quickly, his parents talking a storm. They begin sharing childhood stories about Taehyung and show you baby pictures as he sits there protesting. His pouting face is so cute you could die.

“And here he is with just a towel!” his mom squeals. “But I am sure you have seen that view already.”

“mom…” Taehyung draws out the word in a whine. You just giggle as she continues to show you pictures of baby Tae Tae.

Finally, Taehyungs sister joins the party and she teases him just as much as their parents. You feel right at home with the Kim’s. They are warm and inviting and make you feel so…at peace.

“Oh!” Mrs. Kim pauses, “look at the time!” she points down at her watch that rests on her left wrist.

“It’s gotten so late, my my. Well, us old folks are heading to bed. You two should get some rest as well.” She motions towards you and Taehyung. “Taehyung can show you the room you two will be staying in.”

“Room? As in singular?” you sputter out.

“Well, we only have one room open. One bed.” She juts her lip out innocently. “I figure you two are a couple so…”

“Yeah, we will be fine.” Taehyung cuts in. “Get some rest mom…dad.” He nods towards his father.

One room? One bed? With The Kim Taehyung. Granted that yes, you have become like, friends with Tae so you are more comfortable. But to share a room? Share a bed?

You follow Tae up the stairs and down the hall to a bedroom. It has a single queen size bed in the middle of the room against the wall. You feel flustered like it’s the first time you spoke to him.

“I can sleep on the floor if you want.” Taehyung offers with a shy smile and all your worries vanish. That’s right, Taehyung is a gentlemen and you have nothing to worry about.

“No, it’s fine” you assure him, “We are adults Tae, we can share a bed.”

Your hangover still lingers and the drive is starting to take its toll, your eyes feeling heavy as sleep invites you to visit.

“Let’s sleep.” You yawn out.

Taehyung nods his head with a smile and walks towards the bathroom, “I’ll get ready for bed in here,” he motions towards the bathroom, “and you can change in here. Just let me know when you’re done.”

“Alrighty”

You fall asleep quickly, letting your dreams take over for the night.

Winter break just started and you are supposed to go see your parents but when you found out your new friend Jungkook was going to be spending the holidays alone in his dorm you just could not let that slide.

“It’s not a big deal, y/n. I’m used to it.” He states in a plain fashion.

“it IS a big deal JK. My parents can handle one Christmas without me, but I am afraid you cannot.” You say with a smirk.

“Why are you doing this for me?” Jungkook is typing away on his laptop working on a last minute assignment his professor is letting him turn in late.

“Because even though I’ve only known you for like, 4 months, you’re like my closest friend here.”

“Don’t act like you have a closer friend somewhere else”

“Why do you have to call me out like that?”

Jungkook snickers, click clacking away on his keyboard, “Finally, I’m finished.” He says closing the laptop. Jungkook looks up at you.

“Go catch your flight y/n.” he says with a soft smile.

“Not happening.” You say more seriously.

Jungkook just stares at you for a long while and you stare right back. When the two of you look into one another’s eyes it’s never weird or awkward. You always relish in it.

“You’re something else aren’t you?” he breaks into a toothy grin. “What would we do anyway?”

“We can have a slumber party? And call it BFF slumber party.”

“Sounds fun” Jungkook stands from his rolling chair and sits on the edge of his bed with you.

“You know, you might be the best friend I have ever had.” He whispers.

Christmas passes by in a flash and NYE’s is right around the corner. Your friends are going to be back for NYE’s because of all the parties that required all of your attendances.

New Year’s eve has arrived and you sit in your dorm with Trina as the two of you get ready for the night.

“I hope Stephanie is going to be there tonight…” Trina mumbles under her breath, “If not this outfit is a complete waste.”

You giggle as you apply your red lipstick in the mirror. You get a text from Jimin that he and Jungkook are already headed to the party so you rush Trina to get ready to go.

The party is booming. There are decorations everywhere, people everywhere, and drinks everywhere. You sip on a few beers, wanting to stay at least a little sober so you remember the night, and you hope Jungkook isn’t too trashed either.

Hours pass, lots of dancing goes down and more drinks go down…your throat. It was all fun and games until Jimin called for your group of friends to head to a bedroom to play an innocent game of truth or dare.

You stick to Jungkook’s side as the two of you stumble up the stairs, laughing loudly and holding hands to keep each other stable.

You all sat in a circle in the room, talking and laughing until Jimin clanked a glass with a spoon like a fancy bitch to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay first, lets start with Trina! Truth or Dare?” Jimin smirks.

“Dare, obviously.”

“Okay,” Jimin thinks for a few moments, “I dare you to flash everyone your tits.”

“Oh? Is that all?” Trina says as she quickly lifts her shirt. She was already braless. You and Jungkook cackle at the scene unfolding.

“Okay, Hobi…truth or dare?”

“Dare.” He says with an excited grin.

“Dare you to take 3 shots in a row.”

And the night went on like this until it was Jimins turn again,

“Jungkook, truth or dare?” Jimin had an evil glint in his eye, you should of known he was up to no good.

“Dare.” Jungkook says with a cocky smile.

“I dare you to kiss y/n.”

“y/n?” Taehyung shakes you a bit more, “y/n?”

“Huh?” you begin to open your eyes and take in your view. You are in a small bedroom, there are posters on the wall and a small desk next to the bedroom door. And most importantly a Kim Taehyung in front of your face.

“What…What time is it?” you ask, sleep still evident in your voice.

“9:00” he grins down at you. “We’re going strawberry picking today, get dressed!”

You rub your eyes, trying to rid yourself of the sleep that crusted them but it is no use, you are still exhausted.

“I dare you to kiss y/n.”

Why? Why did you dream that memory? You shake your head trying to rid yourself of the lingering dream in your mind. That was a long time ago, time to move on.

You quickly shower and get dressed and meet Taehyung and his parents for breakfast.

“Wow, smells good!” you inhale the air, while smiling sweetly to Mrs. Kim.

“Do you cook y/n?” she asks, looking eager to know.

“Yeah, I do. Well, sometimes.” You laugh to yourself “My roommate is useless in the kitchen so someone has to cook.”

“That’s great!” Mrs. Kim exclaims, nodding approvingly to her husband. “Taehyungs last girlfriend couldn’t even toast a poptart.” She rolls her eyes but then smiles at you again.

Last girlfriend? You don’t recall Taehyung ever having a girlfriend in the time you have known him. Must have been a while.

“Mom…” Taehyung warns,

“Oh alright, we aren’t talking about her. What was her name again?”

“Mom.”

“Okay okay.”

You awkwardly play with your fingers at their back and forth. Who was his girlfriend? Were they dating more recently? Why has the energy shifted so much in the kitchen?

“So you two are going strawberry picking huh? That’ll be fun. Be sure you bring back the reddest, juiciest ones you can find!” Mr. Kim chimes in.

You and Taehyung arrive at the strawberry farm a couple hours later, you two are some of the only people there.

“Small town.” Taehyung explains.

“More for us.” You poke your tongue out. “You must really like strawberries Tae.”

“Actually, no. I’m tired of them.” His laughter fills your ears, you watch as he sways into your side “But it’s still fun and we can take some cute pics here.”

“Yeah, true.” You try to smile brightly but fall short. “Well I’m glad we’re getting some because Jungkook eats all the damn strawberries at home!” Taehyung watches as you giggle and he frowns.

You spend time walking side by side, taking lots of photos, and enjoying one another’s company. The wonderful breeze rushes through you, making you feel alive and well.

“No way! Trina did not do that!” Taehyung laughs so hard, shaking his whole body.

“I swear! I told her she was going to get caught but that bitch does not listen to me.” You laugh alongside him.

“And I swear to you, I was not about to get caught with her so me and Jungkook ran for it. I would rather fucking die.” You laugh again.

“You don’t say that type of stuff in front of Jungkook, do you?” Taehyungs tone becomes serious, surprising you.

“What stuff?” you tilt you head in confusion.

“You know ‘wanting to die’ bullshit. He really hates that because well, you know.”

“Oh yeah, I don’t say that around him, he’s real sensitive about that for some reason.” You laugh awkwardly, swinging your arms side to side as you two walk.

“Well for good reason. Right?”

“Huh?”

“It’s nothing…” Taehyung releases a shaky breath. “It’s not my place to tell you.”

“If it’s about my best friend—”

“Sorry. Not my place.” Taehyung says more harshly. “Let’s just change the subject.”

Your mind begins racing…why is Jungkook so sensitive about that? What isn’t he telling you?

“Don’t think too much about it y/n.” Taehyung says softly. “He will tell you eventually.”

“Oh…” you bow your head down, “Okay…”

“Well, tell me more about you Tae.”

“what do you want to know?”

“let’s start with the basics! What’s your favorite color?”

Taehyung looks up at the sky and hums to himself, “I don’t have one but today maybe it’s blue.”

“You don’t have a favorite color? Why blue today?”

“The sky. It’s so pretty. I wish I could find this exact shade of blue and recreate this sky…” he sighs to himself, “But then again maybe today it’s green.” He gestures towards your top. “Because it brings out the color in your eyes.”

You pause mid walk, tilting your head up at him. “You like green today because I…I’m wearing it?”

“Is that strange?” he stops walking as well, “Because your eyes—”

“Why not choose the color of my eyes?” you tease.

“Because I like what wearing green does to them specifically.” He rubs your shoulder, “Come on, let’s keep going.”

You nod your head and the two of you continue your walk, he takes your hand in his and you smile to yourself. This feels like a real date.

“What are you most afraid of?” you feel his hand grow sweaty in your palm. “Like, for example, Jungkook doesn’t like spiders or…”

“Being left.” He blurts out. “But yeah, not a fan of spiders either.” He chuckles.

“Being left?”

Taehyung walks towards a bench and sits down, you follow his lead taking a seat close to him. He takes a few deep breaths and lowers his head.

“Imagine a parent or a significant other or even a friend…they say they love you and stuff…but then change their mind or something happens and they end up leaving. That’s what I’m most afraid of. Being left alone.”

You bite your lip, you realize he and Jungkook have this in common. Your hand rushes to find his, you gently stroke your thumb over his golden skin. “Someone would be absolutely crazy to abandon you, Taehyung.”

Surprising you, he scoffs.

“I’m serious…you are…just amazing. You’re sweet, funny, caring and kind and you make great art and you have great taste in movies…you also know the best pizza…” you continue to stroke his skin as you ramble, “You have the most genuine heart, Taehyung.”

Taehyung lifts his head to face you, he looks pained.

“y/n…”

“You don’t have to say anything, I’m here for you, you know?” you scoot closer to him on the bench and Taehyung leans into you.

“You’re too good to me…” Taehyung whispers so quietly you barely hear him. “You really think that of me?”

“Of course, I do. You make me feel…” the words die on your tongue when you feel Taehyung cup your jaw with his hand.

“You make me feel….too.” he whispers just loud enough that you hear him loud and clear.

Then Taehyung leans back, his hand dropping from your face, “I have to tell you something.”

“No.” you cut in. Whatever it is it can wait. Because…because you know it’s not something that will make you happy and you don’t want this weekend to be ruined. You just know.

“Tell me another time?” you lean into him, your fingers intertwining with his. “Please…”

Taehyung exhales deeply, frustration written all over his face. He turns in his seat to face you.

“Soon.” He promises.

“Ha, you sound like Jungkook.”

“Do you always find a way to talk about Jungkook?” Taehyung lifts your chin with his fingers.

“W-What?”

Taehyung looks serious for a second before he cracks a smile and laughs, “I’m just teasing you.”

~~~~~

“Wait, wait. So you’re telling me you ALSO love museums?!” Taehyung squeezes your hand in excitement.

“Yeah, they’re really interesting.” You smile.

“Oh my god, all our friends think they’re so boring. Well, Namjoon likes them. Anyway, why haven’t we gone on a museum date? I want to take you so bad now!” His eyes are shining like a child, you can’t help but adore him.

“Then let’s go sometime Tae.”

Taehyung lowers the basket he’s holding to the ground and takes your basket and sets it on the ground as well.

“I really…” Taehyung pauses, reaching his hand to grab yours. “Really had a nice time with you today.

You look down at your joined hands and smile. “Me too, Tae Tae.”

Taehyung leans over and pecks your cheek. It makes you smile.

“What was that for?” you ask shyly. “There’s no people around.” You chuckle a bit bitterly.

“Just felt like it,” his soft smile making you swoon. “Should we head back? My parents will probably be in bed by the time we make it back home.”

“Sure.”

~~~~~

The house is dark and quiet when you enter through the front door. Only the sound of the ceiling fan rotating in cold, noisy circles could be heard. It was oddly calming and made the long day catch up to you.

“Let’s get ready for bed.” Tae whispers into your ear and it tickles.

The two of you head up the flight of stairs and enter the bedroom. You take turns using the bathroom to get ready for bed, once all done you make your way under the covers and slowly close your eyes.

“y/n?”

You turn over in bed to face Taehyung, your faces just inches apart.

“Yes?” you whisper.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this.” The guilt in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you, as usual. “I wish there was something more I could do for you…”

“You’re already buying me coffee.” You giggle.

“I want to do more,” Taehyung gulps “I want to…” he scoots even closer to you, his hot breath fanning your face. You can smell the mint from his toothpaste and his natural scent. It fills your nostrils and you suck in a sharp breath.

“You want to what?” you say with a shaky voice.

Taehyungs breathing begins to quicken, you can feel each rushed breath and you wonder what’s gotten into him.

“What do you want to do, Tae?” you ask again.

You can see Taehyungs tongue dart out to wet his lips and you can’t help but stare. His lips look so plump and delicious, you want a bite.

“I…I don’t know…” he turns to lay on his back. “Can I tell you a secret?” he whispers.

“Sure.”

“I wanted to kiss more than your cheek today.” He turns back over to his side to face you again. “Is that wrong?”

Taehyung wanted to kiss you? Like, kiss you kiss you? You feel happy, yes. But do you feel your heart racing in excitement? You don’t know.

“Tae—”

“Even now, I still want to…kiss you…” his hand brushes against the skin of your cheek and you start to feel your heart beat just a little faster. Finally…

“But,” he pulls backs, “It’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“Why would it be wrong?”

“Because…y/n…I have to tell you some—”

You quickly lean over to seal his lips with yours. Usually your kisses are short and sweet and tender but this time you use more force as you press your lips over his mouth, the kiss sloppy and heated. He instantly kisses you back with fervor, your tongue prodding its way into his mouth and he obliges in seconds, his tongue playing with yours. You moan into his mouth and Taehyungs hands are all over you, they travel into your hair, down your back, grabbing your hips and rubbing your ass.

“Tae…” you whine out

Taehyungs fingers play with the hem of your shorts and you push your hips into his.

“Please.” You beg for more.

“But wait—”

“Please.” You repeat.

Taehyung stares at you for several long moments, thinking of what to do…he wants to devour you, if he had to be honest. But is this right? But he…

Then his eyes go dark, his gaze piercing.

“I’m going to taste you.” He says in voice so deep you even question that its him.

Next thing you know your shorts are pulled down along with your panties and Taehyungs mouth is an inch away from devouring you.

“Gonna make you feel so good.” He groans into your heat, his tongue licking a strip from your hole to your clit. And again and again. You quietly whimper into the pillow as his tongue fucks you.

“More Taehyung, more…” you moan, your hands gripping his hair.

Taehyung smirks up at you and inserts two fingers into your greedy cunt, he curls and scissors them inside you making you weep pathetically.

“That feel good sweetheart?”

Then he’s diving back in, his tongue assaulting your clit until you feel the buildup of your inevitable orgasm—you mean, it is Kim Taehyung.

He gives your clit one last good suck before you are reaching your high, pulling on his locks and moaning at a higher pitch. Fuck, that was good.

“You sound so fucking hot when you come…” Taehyung moves back up the bed as you lay there breathless. “Next time I want you coming on my—”

Taehyung stops himself from finishing that sentence. You watch as he groans into his hands, “I mean, if you want there to be a next time.”

“Of course I do, Tae.” You flip to your side and find his lips. You give him a long kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. “How could I not?”

Taehyung savors your lips on his, he finds his hands in your hair again as he deepens it. He should feel like shit but somehow he feels…good. And he’s confused as hell for it.

~~~~~

The next morning comes by quickly, you are saying your goodbyes to the Kim’s with promises that you will return soon. And you secretly hope you do.

The drive back to Uni is a slow one, you and Taehyung listen to his playlist and chat every now and then while he holds your hand. You smile like an idiot the whole time.

Taehyungs phone is in your hand as you slide through the music options, you’re about to choose a song when he receives an incoming text.

Anna 10:08am

You think that will work, Taehyung? Try harder.

You slide the message up, trying to ignore it. You don’t want some stalker to ruin the good mood you’re in. But you can’t help but wonder what she is talking about. And why hasn’t he blocked her? You don’t say anything to Taehyung, he is also in a good mood and you don’t want to ruin it. He’s humming the tune from the car speakers and lifts his hand that holds yours and kisses it.

Another hour passes and you and Taehyung are in front of your apartment.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you up?” Taehyung questions sweetly.

“I’m sure!” you stand on your tip toes to kiss his cheek and turn around to walk away.

“Oh no you don’t.” Taehyung chuckles as he pulls you in for a kiss on the lips. Then another kiss and then another. “Now you can go.” He teases.

You break out in a wide grin, and tilt your head up to kiss him one last time.

You walk up the steps to your apartment, and walk towards your front door. What an amazing weekend, you think. You got to know Taehyung a lot better, you met his parents and you two shared an unforgettable night—at least for you. Oh no. Should you have returned the favor? Instead of worrying about it you decide it’s okay, he owes you after all. You chuckle to yourself as you unlock the front door.

You step inside your apartment with a an idiotic, dopey ass smile plastered on your face.

“What’s with you?” Jungkook asks from the living room couch.

“Oh nothing,” You sing, “Just had a really good weekend.”

“Oh? So I guess meeting his parents went well?” Jungkook stands to meet you at the entrance, he takes your bag for you and sets it down.

“That too.” You giggle.

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, “I’m serious, what’s up with you?” he can’t help but smile. You look so happy.

“Nothing we just… we just…” you bite your lip, contemplating on what to tell Jungkook.

“You… just?” his smile begins to fade as realization hits him. Then his face hardens. “Did he fuck you?” Jungkook’s voice is lower than you have ever heard it.

“What?” you choke out.

“I asked if this asshole fucked you?”

“Okay, one: he’s not an asshole. Two: no, he did not fuck me.”

Jungkook visibly relaxes.

Telling Jungkook the truth will probably only upset him for some reason so you decide against it. You don’t need his negativity right now. Finally, fucking finally, Taehyung is crossing a line with you…on the side where friendship is beginning to become blurred and nothing makes you more excited. You have been waiting for this, you have spent so much time with him and and… you need this.

“Okay…” Jungkook leans down and picks up your bag and heads to your room. You watch as he swings the bedroom door open and set the bag inside.

“Wanna order some food?” he calls out, walking towards you again.

“Honestly we got up pretty early this morning so I think I’ll take a quick nap. But after? If you’re willing to wait a couple hours?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Get some rest.” He smiles, jumping back on the couch and pressing play on whatever show he was watching.

Your bed is so unbelievably soft and warm that as soon as you sink in the sheets your eyes are already closing in exhaustion. But your mind stays awake…you think about the weekend you just had with Taehyung and all the progress you have made. You like him so much, you want nothing more than for him to feel the same way. At least you think you…anyway. You recall his lips kissing down your body, his tongue teasing your thighs, his hands gripping your hips.

Taehyungs dark eyes as he stares up from you is without a doubt one of the sexiest things you have had the pleasure of witnessing. Wait—why one of? Why can’t it be the sexiest thing you have ever seen? Then different images bombard your brain but you’re quick to throw them away. Only Taehyung lives in your mind rent free, god damn it. He ain’t gotta pay a penny.

You think about the light, teasing kisses he left on your neck…you think about his fingers and how they fucked you, god they felt so fucking good. You smile as you think about what else he could do for you…your lazy smile widens at the thought.

Your eyes are still closed and images of Taehyung run wild in your mind as you start to doze off. Yes, you can fall asleep with him in your thoughts. Your body feels heavier and heavier as sleep finally takes over, you welcome Taehyung in your dreams as well. At least you hope you dream of him.

The bed creaks beneath you as Jungkook guides you further up the mattress, his body hovering your own. His hands come to slide up your arms as you shiver under his touch.

“I’m giving you goosebumps.” He says while lightly stroking your arm, feeling each bump under his fingertips. “What else do I do to you?”

“So many things Jungkook…” you heavily breathe out, your chest is heaving at this point. The anticipation of his touch is driving you nuts.

“Need to find out.” He simply states, his head lowering down to the crook of your neck. He breathes you in and lowers himself between your spread legs.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes, please.” You don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do.

Jungkook’s slender fingers make their way skimming across your bare stomach until he reaches the hem of your panties. He lifts the band up and slaps it against your skin.

“I want these off, is that okay?”

You only nod your head.

“Words y/n. When you’re with me you use your words okay baby?” His fingers begin lowering your panties down. “Lift yourself for me.” And you obey. Jungkook slides your panties down your legs and you’re left completely naked underneath him.

“God, I can just see how wet you are.” You immediately force your legs shut, feeling embarrassed at his words.

“Not uh, I don’t think so. You got this wet for me? I want to see it. Open for me, baby.” Very hesitantly you begin to move your legs apart, the blush on your face deepening.

The rest is almost a blur. You can recall his fingers spreading your folds, you whining for him to touch more of you. You can recall his mouth hovering your pussy, his tongue swirling around your clit. You can recall his fingers stretching you out and moaning out his name. It’s what came next that is very clear in your mind. Its him kissing your lips, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and his cock sliding between your folds. The desire you feel for him is very real and he can feel that.

“Please, Jungkook!” You gasp out, as he teases his cock at your entrance.

Jungkook slides his gorgeous cock into you inch by glorious inch. His cock twitching inside your pulsating pussy, his harsh breaths fanning your face. Jungkook slams his eyes shut, his teeth gritting in anticipation as he waits for you to give the ok. You only gasp for air as he bottoms out, his dick reaching places no one ever has before, you slowly nod your head giving him permission to fuck you into oblivion. He says he could, so you’ll believe him. .

Jungkook opens an eye to look at you carefully, your face contorted in pleasure showing him how you are indeed okay to go on. Jungkook’s hand massages your hips, his touch setting your skin on fire. He begins to slowly ease out of you until just the tip remains then he slams his hips into yours. His body falls forward and he lifts your head up with his free hand and brings you closer for a wild kiss. He grinds himself into you deliciously, his hips rocking back and forth causing you to moan out for him over and over.

“Please…please.” You pant, rolling your hips into his as you meet his desperate thrusts.

“Please what, princess?” he breathes out heavily, “Told you that when you’re with—” He begins fucking into you faster, “When you’re with me…to use your words.” His pace is bruising, causing you to choke on the air around you.

“Please, harder.” You manage to get out while gripping on to his wide shoulders, your finger nails digging into his soft skin.

Jungkook smirks down at you, his eyes shining with something you can’t quite describe.

“Harder?” he questions, his lips coming down to suck bruises into your neck. “Deeper too?” he bites a particular spot that makes you groan.

“Just—just need more of you…” you grab his hair by the handful and yank his head back and bring his face to yours. Your lips meeting his.

His tongue slips past your lips, tongues dancing to the beat of his thrusts. His cock is buried so deep within you that you feel you are no longer a single person but now a person merged with another. You have never felt more connected.

Jungkook whines at the sight of you—your lips apart and eyes barely open. Your head is thrown back showing Jungkook all the pretty blooming bruises on your skin.

“So fucking pretty.” He grits out, eyes lit on fire.

You’re barely able to respond as he thrusts into you even harder, your tits bouncing with each movement.

“Gonna come soon…” he says between heavy breaths, his pace becoming sloppy.

“Gonna come inside me?” you cry out, your fingernails digging into his back.

“Need you to come with me baby”

You could of came from his cock alone, that you are sure of but when his fingers meet your sensitive clit, you are seeing stars. He’s rubbing messy circles, easily sliding around from how wet you are, his fingers getting drenched.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly his fingers bring you to orgasm.

You gasp out, voice hoarse from all the moaning and screaming he’s drawn from your body. “Fuuuuuucckk.” You whine, your orgasm leaving you breathless.

“I—I’m coming…” he pants in your ear, his breath tickling your sensitive skin.

He fucks into you quickly before stilling his hips and shooting his cum deep within you, decorating your walls. He doesn’t move. You don’t move. He stays buried to the hilt, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck. You aren’t much better, your breaths also harsh. You look to the nightstand to read the clock that says 4 AM. Fuck, what did you do?

You just fucked your best friend.

Panicked and out of breath, you sit up in bed. Sweat forming on your hairline and dribbling down the side of your face. Why? Why this dream of all dreams? Why this memory?

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #kim taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst

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whoacanada · 3 years

Text

Zimmerbro AU

Summary: Andrew Phillip Rowe could skate before he could walk, and it wasn’t until he was almost twenty and well on his way to becoming a Las Vegas Ace before he knew why.

a/n: that’s right we’ve got a secret zimmermann brother au based on the fact that Bob was an active pro athlete for almost 15 years before Jack was born and almost definitely had relationships before Alicia. This particular one resulted in a secret love child.

When the call finally went out that year — a request for players willing to billet the incoming draftees — Andrew had been the first in line.

His already sparsely decorated guest room had been primed for a new tenant since he’d learned Las Vegas’ abysmal season had earned them the first pick of the 2009 draft. In his mind, Andrew had envisioned a tearful confession. A family reunion nineteen years in the making where he’d finally get a chance to connect with a half-brother he’d grown up learning about through news articles and stats pages.

He wasn’t ready for Jack to pull out of the draft days before the ceremony; wasn’t ready for the claims of an overdose or speculation about suicide attempts. He certainly wasn’t expecting to have to open his home to a young man with limp blonde hair and deep circles under his eyes with the same enthusiasm he’d promised he’d offer to a son of Bob Zimmermann.

Andrew was hoping for a little brother.

He got Kent Parson instead.

______

“You remind me of my boyfriend.” Kent slurs one night, completely gone on Johnny Walker Blue borrowed from Andrew’s wet bar. “It’s your . . . face.”

“Shouldn’t talk about things like that,” Andrew cautions gently, covering his own surprise. “Never know who might be listening.”

“Who fucking cares? He won’t talk to me,” Kent continues, ignoring him and sniffing like he’s on the verge of sobbing or puking, both options equally unwanted. “They wouldn’t tell me if he was even alive.”

Another unwanted puzzle piece locks into place.

“Jack?” Andrew suggests softly, and Kent begins to cry.

“You won’t tell right?”

Andrew shakes his head no, long enough for Kent’s bleary eyes to focus on the gesture and take it seriously.

Things are different, after that conversation. Not worse, or better, just different.

________

“He’s my brother.”

Andrew admits this one night, for no reason other than that he can.

Kent is across the room, backlit by lights from the Strip, his legs dangling off the arm of his favorite couch as he scrolls through his phone looking for distractions. Parse hasn’t lived with Andrew for almost two seasons, but he still turns up like a bad penny whenever he needs to commiserate with someone who knows his more lascivious secrets. Truthfully, Andrew’s grateful for the company. He’s a pretty genial guy, but he’s always kept his distance, a personality trait he likes to think he shares with an unassuming sibling, but there’s no way to know for sure. The farther Andrew gets from the 2009 Draft, the less faith he has in a reunion that won’t just bring crippling sorrow to everyone involved.

A secret Zimmermann son who actually made it in the NHL. Who has his name on the Stanley Cup, not once, but twice, largely thanks to the spitfire forward lounging in Andrew’s living room.

“Who’s your brother?” Kent asks, not looking up from his phone.

“Jack Zimmermann.”

Kent barks a laugh and rolls his head lazily to smirk at Andrew.

“That’s funny. I guess you kinda have the same chin. Was Marky digging for chirps?”

Andrew has no idea what that means, but he sets down his tablet and says, “No, he’s actually my half-brother. My mom dated Bad Bob in ’84 and got pregnant.”

The lackadaisical smile on Kent’s face falters as his gaze sharpens, like he’s actually looking at Andrew for the first time. Andrew responds by gesturing at himself lamely.

“That’s not funny.”

“No.” Andrew agrees. “It isn’t.”

Kent swings his feet down off the couch and braces himself against the overstuffed leather. He doesn’t look mad, but there’s something too close to disbelief for Andrew to convince himself everything’s okay. It takes a moment, but Kent must find what he’s looking for on Andrew’s face.

“Does Bob know?” Kent asks with that familiar overfamiliarity, as if they both still have some personal relationship with the living legend.

“Yeah. When Mom got pregnant she told him she didn’t want the attention since it was only a fling — ”

“Who the fuck doesn’t lock down Bob Zimmermann?” Kent breathes. “Also, why the fuck did she tell you that?”

“No shit, right? She got him to sign away parental rights, set up a trust, never spoke to him again as far as I know. I didn’t find out until after I signed with the Aces. She didn’t want me to get blindsided if it all came out, but the story never broke.”

“I mean, does Bob know who you are?” Kent questions. “Does Jack?”

Andrew shakes his head no, because he doesn’t think so, and Kent flops back against the cushions, face slack with disbelief; it doesn’t take long for his features to shift to anger.

“You knew this whole time and you didn’t tell me? Even after I told you —“

“Okay, there’s a whole-ass difference between you fucking dudes and and me being ‘Bad Bob’s bastard’,” Andrew bites, curtailing Kent’s imminent hissy fit. Appropriately, Kent closes his mouth, almost pouting.

“Fine. But that’s fucked.” Kent says after a loaded moment of silence. “I’m sorry you’re . . . you.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry you’re you, too.”

“You know Jack’s signing with the Falconers, right?” Kent offers like the worst kind of olive branch, unintentionally telling Andrew exactly what he was up to during that stretch of time between New England games a few months prior. “It’s not public but it’s happening. Ink’s dry.”

“I know. That’s why I told you. It’s gonna be weird,” Andrew swallows, thinking about playing Providence in the coming months.

“Fucking right it’s weird.”

_________

For the most part, the Las Vegas Aces are decent, stand up guys. Even with the accusations of gambling debts and mob connections with the ownership group, Andrew’s never been asked to hit a certain player a little too hard, or to take a dive so the other team gets a shot at a power play. A lot of talk, a lot of conspiracies, ‘Typical Aces hockey’, but there’s no malice. Not really.

Andrew thinks it’s hilarious he plays the game a lot like his estranged father, but he’s not a legend in the making, hell, at this point he’s barely regarded as more than a mid-level, reliable center that can bring home 40 points a season.

Carly whips behind Zimmermann’s back to clip his skate with a stick, dropping a ill advised chirp that sets every player in earshot on edge. Parse is close enough to catch the quiet slur, stiffening like he’s been hit, and Andrew watches Zimmermann recover quickly, steely and resolute.

Jack has his mother’s eyes — not the warm brown Andrew catches every time he looks in the mirror.

“He’s a fucking goon,” Andrew breathes, gliding up to Jack’s shoulder in lieu of an apology. Zimmermann doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking to Andrew with the quiet rage of ‘who gives a fuck’. Andrew admires his commitment to the game. Coming back after so much, after so long, to willingly subject himself to the same kind of treatment that Andrew knows likely led to his original fall from grace.

“Hey,” Kent ducks his head as he slides up a little while later, mouthguard clenched between his teeth, and asks, “You see his twink?”

At Andrew’s obvious confusion, Kent jerks his head toward the glass behind the Falconers’ bench, to a raucous group of fans all sporting fresh Zimmermann jerseys. Andrew’s gaze drifts along the row of faces, lingering longer on the familiar, handsome couple beside the blonde young man. He may be imagining things — the stadium lights catching a bad angle — but for the briefest moment, Andrew holds eye contact with his father.

“He’s cute, right?” Kent says bitterly, like he doesn’t have a partner of his own back home.

“Yeah, he is. You gonna do anything about the slurs, Captain?” Andrew counters, earning a stern look from Parson.

“I’ll deal with Carly.”

“Oh, you will? Because I’ve never seen you shut him down before.”

“I’ll handle it.”

Kent’s expression goes stormy, and he gives Andrew a hard shove before skating off to set up for the next shift. To his credit, he does grab Carly by the arm and tell him something that earns a look of displeasure from the larger man, but Andrew knows a verbal warning won’t curtail someone as dead-set in his conservatism as Carly.

The next play, Carly flashes Andrew a toothy smile over the lineman’s shoulder, as if they’re in on the same joke, and his vision goes red.

__________

“Bad Bob’s outside,” Scraps rasps, like whatever brief interaction he’s just had has physically winded him. “He wants to talk to Flip.”

Andrew blinks up from the water bottle in his hands, previously concerned with the pink-stained gauze wrapped around his knuckles. A few of the guys start chirping, but most of them remain silent, still processing the fact that Andrew assaulted one of their own without clear motivation, in defense of an opponent.

“That’s what this was all about? You gunning for a trade?” Sorenson spits from his stall. “Needed to impress Bad Bob by beating the snot out of Carly?”

“Maybe I am,” Andrew sighs, pushing himself to his feet, wincing at the way his jaw aches from the few good hits Carly had managed to squeeze in before he went down. “What the fuck are you gonna do about it.”

_______

Andrew’s grateful he kept his skates on. He needs the boost of confidence that comes with the added height, especially when he finds Bob Zimmermann waiting patiently in the corridor like he’s just another staff member and not the second most recognizable figure in modern hockey.

“Hey kid,” Bob greets, casting an approving, overly-familiar eye over Andrew’s padded bulk and sweat-slick hair. “You can throw a hell of a punch. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy beat the piss out of a teammate before. Off ice, sure, but never during a game.”

His accent is just as thick in private as every interview Andrew’s ever caught live — but his tone is unexpectedly warm, even grateful — when Bob laughs at his own recounting of Andrew’s assault attempt, the sound is light and joyous like nothing in the world comes easier to this titan of a man.

Andrew wonders if Bob can recognize the chin they share beneath a his playoff beard; if there’s any resemblance left in a nose that’s been reset a half-dozen times.

Andrew grew up loved and never wanted for anything. His step-fathers, both of them, had been good men who never left him looking for a father figure. It wasn’t until his twenties that Andrew even realized there was hole where his bio-dad should have been, and not just a regular hole, a yawning sinkhole threatening to devour his entire sense of self, because his biological father turned out to be a man he grew up idolizing as a personal hero.

He’s not mad at his mother, but when Andrew struggles to find his voice — which is bullshit seeing as he’s almost thirty-five and a god-damned professional athlete — he can’t stop himself from feeling like a misplaced child.

“Do you,” Andrew swallows, looking over Bob’s shoulder to see if anyone’s watching them. Finding they’re alone, he rallies quietly, “Do you know who I am?”

Bob’s jovial expression softens into something remorseful, but unfathomably kind. “I do, buddy,” he acknowledges, somehow squeezing three decades of affection into one term of endearment. “I’ve known for some time, now. The whole time, actually.”

That hurts more than expected.

“Does your wife? Does Jack?”

Bob shakes his head, but it isn’t a hard no.

“Alicia knows, and Jack has some idea he’s got a half-brother, but it’s all in the abstract. No specifics. Definitely doesn’t know you play. I wanted to respect your privacy and your mother’s wishes. She let me know she’d told you the truth a few years back and I wanted to give you the space you needed if you decided to reach out. When you didn’t, well, a man makes assumptions.”

Andrew looks down at the concrete beneath his skates and sniffs hard, fighting nasal drip from the smelling salts he’d needed in the third period; or, at least, that’s what he tells himself. “I had a plan, back when — ” he stops himself, looking down at his skates. Bob’s eyebrows lift in curiosity, leaving room for Andrew to gather his thoughts, but he doesn’t take the bait, unable to bring up what could have been just yet. Bob seems to grasp the context after the moment.

“2009,” he acknowledges softly. “Hell of a year.”

“Yeah. It was. Is he okay?”

“What, Jack? He’s leagues ahead of where he was then —”

“No, I mean, tonight. Carly clipped him pretty hard before I got in there.”

“Oh, a little bruised up, but he’ll live. Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Okay.”

Andrew looks down at his bandaged fist and realizes he’s completely forgotten how gnarly his face must look.

“Trainer says I’m alright, but I’m gonna get leveled with a wicked fine, I know it.”

“Was it worth it?” There’s a look of guilty pride on Bob’s face, like the man’s enjoying himself a little too much when he leans in and whispers, “You just did something I’ve wanted to do since Jack was in mites. Fucking lay out one of those fuckers that’s got nothing better to do than bitch because they can’t play,” there’s a moment of hesitation, as if he’s worried about pushing a boundary, before he adds, “How’d it feel to look out for your little brother?”

Pride, it turns out, in contagious, and Andrew feels like he could go back on the ice and do it all over again. “Pretty fucking great,” Andrew can’t help a smile, wincing when the gesture pulls at his split lip.

Bob slaps a hand on Andrew’s shoulder pads, then gets a grip on the back of his head, heedless of his sweaty hair.

“Crisse, you’re a fuckin’ beaut, kid. I’ve wanted to tell you that for years.”

Andrew can’t blame the smelling salts anymore.

__________

Jack clearly doesn’t see his father standing there with red-rimmed eyes, or Andrew in an equally unkempt state, and has no reason to think anything untoward has happened when he offers a handshake and pulls Andrew into a hug, bouncing his free fist off the back of Andrew’s pads. “I owe you a drink,” Jack says decisively when he pulls back, shooting a grin between his father and Andrew. “Can’t believe you did that.”

“More than a drink, I think,” the blonde guy Andrew saw behind the bench pipes up. Jack’s ‘twink’. Boyfriend. Whatever. “Dinner at least.”

“A pie,” Bob suggests tightly, keeping his voice even as he turns to quickly scrub his fist over his eyes. Andrew recognizes the statuesque woman who strides up beside Bob, and one quick look tells him she definitely knows who he is.

“Hello, Andrew,” Alicia greets softly, genuinely. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” he says, the tightness in his throat coming out as gruffness rather than emotion. “This is great, but I should go shower and, uh, it was nice meeting you all.”

Bob’s hand whips out and fists the sleeve of Andrew’s sweater, keeping him in place.

“You have plans tonight?”

Andrew debates lying, because he doesn’t know how to move forward from this point, but they’re all looking at him. Waiting. Expectant. There’s too much at stake, and yet somehow — A sharp whistle drags Andrew’s attention back to the locker room. Kent is peeking his head out, and god knows how long he’s been eavesdropping.

“Yo, Zimmermanns. Bittle.”

“Parson.” The blonde says curtly, earning a wry smirk from Kent.

“Flip, we got a presser if you feel like putting a bow on the evening,” Kent’s gaze drifts to Bob’s flushed face, and he adds, “Or, you can shower and slip out the loading bay while I cover for your aggro ass because this is not going to be fun. Your call.”

Andrew looks at the small family surrounding him, his family, and says, “I don’t want to explain.” Kent shrugs and ducks back inside while Bob’s brow furrows in confusion. “I can do dinner, but I don’t want to,” Andrew holds his hands out in front of him, trying to gesture what he means, and Bob snaps his fingers in understanding.

“Ah, ha, I got you, kid.”

“Neat. I’m gonna go shower.”

“We will be here when you’re ready,” Alicia offers. “Take your time.”

“Oh, I will,” Andrew replies before he can stop himself, cringing the second his back is turned because what the fuck could he be any more awkward?

Time will tell.

_____________

#zimbits #jack / bitty #omgcp #check please #my fic #my stuff #lost zimmermann brother au #bob's got another kid and I named him andrew again!#kent is not a bad guy #only carly is a bad guy and we hate him #long post #because it's a mini fic!

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chocolatecakecas · 3 years

Text

Rockin' the Suburbs: Chapter 4

chp1 chp2 chp3 or read on ao3

After an afternoon of failed research attempts, Dean found himself carrying an excited Jack in his arms, walking up the sidewalk, hand in hand with Cas. Which didn't immediately send Dean's mind running wild because it honestly was starting to feel natural. Which of course is what sent Dean's mind running, but at least the act of Cas grabbing his hand wasn't the real source of the freak out anymore.

Dean's fine by the way. Totally cool and normal and under control.

"You ready?" Dean asks as they come to a stop at the back gate.

"As I'll ever be" Cas quips, giving Dean's hand a squeeze, which he gratefully returns.

"Holy shit" Dean gasps, jaw-dropping, head quickly snapping towards Cas.

"I agree completely...." Cas trails off, as he drags Dean further into the backyard.

There were people, food, drinks, tents, music blasting, and lights strung up everywhere. And a giant fire pit in the center, with crowds of people hovering around it, roasting marshmallows and hotdogs.

How many people lived in this damn neighborhood?

"So see any fugly faces?"

"If you're talking about demons, then no-"

"Well, what about that lad-"

"No she's no-"

"What about that group, those guys seem kinda-"

"No Dea-"

"Okay well, what about th-"

"Dean if I see a demon I'll be sure to let you know, promptly" Cas sighs, clearly exasperated, which only causes Dean to smile wider.

(read the rest under the cut)

"Okay.....but what abo-"

"Hi guys! Oh my god, we're so glad you decided to come!"

Their heads snap over to see Molly and Jason making their way towards them.

"Time to schmooze with the capitalists" Dean whispers to Cas, earning an elbow jack to the rib, but when he looks over, he sees amusement in Cas' eyes.

"Your home is lovely" Cas gushes when they're within earshot.

"Yeah, this is quite the rager you've got going on back here" Dean muses, earning bright smiles from the pair.

"Thank you! But Amanda's already managed to find at least ten things wrong with the decor, or the lights, or the food" Molly grumbles, as Jason gently rests his arm around her waist.

"Seriously, and Bill picked up every bottle of wine and inspected the year. As if these people aren't drunk enough to even care about the aged taste" Jason continues with an eye roll.

"Oh! Speaking of drinks what can we get you? We've got beer, wine from the wrong years, whiskey, scotch? You name it we've got it"

Shit. Dean hasn't had to talk about this with anyone outside of his family, but his dumbass should have thought about it. He is a party after all.

"Oh um..." Dean starts, but trails off realizing he didn't actually think through what he was going to say. His mouth has been doing that a lot lately.

"Oh we actually don-"Cas rushes in, giving Dean's hand a squeeze, which makes Dean's breath hitch.

Dean was floundering like an idiot and Cas cut in to help. That stupid, undiscussed swirling feeling dancing in his stomach, and he also can't help the dopey grin that spreads across his lips.

"I actually don't drink anymore, not since this little bug came around. But Cas here will definitely take a beer" Dean smiles, giving Jack a little bounce in his arms.

"Dean are you sur-"

"Yeah babe, it's good. I promise. Have a beer, you dork" Dean says turning to fully look at Cas so he gets that he means it. And he must because Cas gives a small smile back, which definitely doesn't make his stomach flip.

They turn back to the pair, praying they get the memo so Dean doesn't have to explain any further.

"Oh! So we have water, seltzer soda. We've got sprite, rootbeer-" Molly quickly moves to offer.

"A coke is good if you have it" Dean interrupts before Molly lists every single brand of soda they've got. And with a nod, Jason jogs off to get their drinks.

"Oh! Jack's probably itching to play with the rest of the kids. There's a whole section set up on the far side of a yard, keeping them far away from that fire pit! But don't worry, a handful of the parents are taking shifts" Molly rushes to add, as she points them in the right direction.

The two turn to follow her finger, Dean's eyes blowing wide at the sight. Four different size bounce houses, two jungle gyms, a huge sandbox, and pretty much every toy you can imagine. And yeah there's things definitely for toddlers, but Dean can only focus on the height of the slides and the amount of kids jumping inside that inflatable nightmare.

His hold only tightens around Jack, as he glances down hurriedly at Cas. But to his surprise Cas isn't gazing horrified at kid-sized deathtraps, he's smiling brightly, eyes shining.

Dean's gotta put his foot down. There's no way, it's too dangerous

"I don't know Jack's neve-"

"Exactly, why he should. There is more than enough equipment his size, and looks like there's plenty of kids around his age. And we both agreed it would be good for him to play with more children his own age, remember?" Cas supplies calmly, resting a hand over his shoulder. The heat radiating through Dean's jacket is doing nothing to put him at ease.

"Yeah but that fire-"

"Is perfectly safe. See, there's at least six parents over there right now. We can even take a shift watching the kids soon if you'd like?" Cas offers in the same tone, eyes shining with sincerity. And Dean manages to pull his gaze away long enough to glance over at the kids' party zone again.

There's a sort of gate squared off in the corner of the yard, with a large and small bouncy house, and what looks like a group of parents watching every move intently.

Cas is right. Jack will be fine. Of course, he will be. And if he's not, they'll just kill whoever's responsible. Stupid angels and their stupid sound logic.

"Alright, you're right" Dean sighs in defeat, as he gears up to walk across the yard. Besides Dean can probably use this as a chance to talk to some of the other paren-

And it happens so fast Dean almost misses it.

But he sure as hell feels it.

There's a heat on his cheek that quickly comes and goes, but there's a lingering warmth that blossoms in its place, spreading across his entire face and down his neck. Lighting shooting through his veins with a jolt, and of course that swirling feeling is back.

What the hell?

Dean's slowly turns towards the source and sees Cas smiling up at him. There's a nervousness dancing behind his features, the kind that's only visible to the trained eye. His hand his still on his shoulder, but he's closer now-wait.

Dean's entire brain short circuits as it works to catch up with the rest of his body, most importantly with his face and that whole lightning thing going on.

Then his brain finally snaps back into action, sending his stomach flipping, that swirling thing looping right along with it.

Because Cas kissed him.

Cas kissed him. On the cheek. Like it was nothing.

And the culprit refocuses in his vision, still smiling up at him anxiously, blue eyes searching his features. And Dean without even thinking, smiles back, which seems to settle Cas.

"I'm very proud of you for making the mature fatherly decision, now go! I'm sure Jack's dying for a turn on that bouncy thing" Cas teases, shoving Dean away, and he vaguely hears Molly giggling behind him. Dean doesn't even have time to process what he said before he's walking across the grass.

Actually, Dean isn't processing anything at the moment.

Because Cas just kissed him on the cheek like it was nothing, and Dean's face is on fire while his heart does its damnedest to pound its way out of his chest. Because now Dean Winchester is having a flustered meltdown over a friggin kiss on the cheek like he's thirteen again?

But it was more than that. Because he sure as hell didn't think Cas would go for it first so what i-

Dean almost stalls, but quickly forces his feet to keep moving as his stomach twists.

Because that feeling, the feeling Dean doesn't talk about is swirling in his stomach, bubbling upwards, trying t-nope.

Dean clenches the hand, that isn't currently supporting Jack, into a fist, nails digging into his palm. It was just a peck on the cheek it didn't mean shit. They had talked all about PDA, and both agreed to it, so that's all it was. It was a kiss for the sake of the case, all for the act.

So Dean tries to shove it from his mind, but failing to get rid of the warmth still radiating through his body and the tingling on his cheek. But hey, he isn't perfect.

He thankfully makes it over to the kid's section in one piece, but unfortunately, an over-excited mom immediately spots him.

"Hi I'm Maria, I don't recognize you, so must be one of our new neighbors!" Maria practically cheers, and Dean doesn't buy her false enthusiasm for a second, but he plasters a smile on his face ready to play the part.

"Yeah I'm-"

"I spotted you and your husband carrying boxes in yesterday! Didn't look like you had very much hmm?" Maria continues as if she hadn't heard him. And Dean didn't miss that little dig and he definitely didn't miss the way she emphasized husband.

"Yup that's me, Dean Richardson, and this is my son Jack" Dean says before she has a chance to cut him off again.

"Pleasure to meet you two! Now I assure you Jack is in good hands, you've got some of the best parents on duty right now!" Maria jokes and Dean has a feeling she's a little tipsy, which only increases his nerves. At least there's some other capable-looking parents standing around.

Maria continues to chatter loudly about god knows what, so he ignores her opting to carefully stand Jack on the ground, crouching to his level.

"Alright Squish, you're gonna hang out over here and have some fun with the rest of the kids! Me and your Dad are going to be right over there" Dean says excitedly, which only makes Jack even more excited.

"So if you need us, you tell one of the other grown-ups, and we'll come right over. And remember the rules kiddo? No mojo, capiche?" Dean reminds, whispering the last part.

"Capeesh!" Jack promises and Dean can't help but smile. So reluctantly, he presses a kiss to Jack's hair, and gently nudges him towards the other kids, watching as he runs away laughing.

"He's such a little cutie! Oh look he's playing with my Ella" Maria gushes while Dean silently prays Jack will drop that kid so he doesn't have to Maria and her false sweetness, ever again.

"Yeah, adorable. Anyway, my husband and I will gladly take a shift watching the little rugrats a-"Dean starts trying his best to sound like he doesn't want to strangle her.

"Oh no I wouldn't dream of it! It's your first party in the neighborhood, we have more than enough capable parents on duty tonight! Get back to your husband, drink, mingle!" Maria interrupts shoving him away, and Dean has no choice but to obey, unless he wanted to cause a scene. Which he did want to, because he was practically fuming from that subtle dig at capabilities at a parent, but he couldn't he had the damn case to think about.

And with a final glance to assure Jack was okay, Dean quickly surveys the crowd, easily spotting Cas' leather. He begins to make his way over, but suddenly the memories from five minutes ago come rushing back leaving him frozen.

Cas had kissed him-yeah it was on the cheek, but it was a kiss nonetheless. And that stupid swirling feeling began to bubble up in his stomach, unable to move as the-

"Dean, over here man!" Jason calls from across the yard, effectively kicking Dean's back into gear, as he made his way over to them.

Stuff it Winchester, focus on the case. It's all for the case.

So Dean jogs, over stopping next to Cas, who was lightly laughing along with Jason and Molly. Jason hands him a bottle, an honest-to-god glass bottle of Coke. They probably had to buy hundreds of these, must have cost a fortune.

"Is Jack all settled?" Cas asks, the slight worry on his face. And so without thinking, Dean takes his hand giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah babe, kiddo is having the time of his life over there," Dean says with a sweet smile, pet name rolling off his tongue like nothing as he meets his eyes. Cas only responds with a smug smirk that says "I told you so", which definitely didn't make Dean's stomach flip.

"So, new neighbors let's get the good gossip out of the way before the bitch squad corners us. Tell us about yourselves! What do you guys do for a living?" Molly teases, effectively snapping them out of their staring contest.

Showtime

"Well I'm a mechanic, still looking for a good space in the area to set up shop, but Cas here is all set with a position at Amherst College in the sprin-" Dean begins, gushing about Cas like a proud husband.

"Dean, of course, is wildly underselling himself. He specializes in classic car restoration" Cas cuts in also like a proud husband, but there's a hint of sincerity in his voice that twists Dean's heart.

"Wow! So that gorgeous Impala really is your's after all?" Molly asks in awe.

"Yeah that's my Baby, rebuilt her after a crash a while back, she's been in the family for years" Dean shrugs, hand instinctively reaching for the back of his neck, but he can't help the little sense of pride that swells in his chest. He feels Cas squeeze his hand, but before he can glance over Jason starts talking.

"And Cas, Amherst that's impressive! What course do you teach?"

"English literature, and global history" Cas answers. They decided to tack on the history on account of Cas knowing pretty much all of history, and that it might be an in seeing as weirdo rich people are often weirdo history buffs.

"Oh I actually teach history over at the high school" Jason reveals, and Dean has to hold back a laugh.

Weirdo rich people, weirdo history buffs. Score.

"Well looks like we're surrounded by academics! Amherst, an incredible school, but that's a bit of a commute from here, isn't it?

"Oh it's not too bad, and the drive is all worth it if we get to live in this beautiful neighborhood. But what about you, Molly?" Cas deflects smoothly shooting them a charming smile-that Dean definitely didn't find charming.

"Oh, I'm a real estate lawyer. That's how we're in this gorgeous neighborhood" Molly jokes, Jason laughing along.

Real estate law, Dean tucks away that info for later because maybe that's how they got their house on the market and sold so quickly.

"Hey everyone, sorry to interrupt but we just wanted to introduce ourselves to the new neighbors," A shorter man says as he appears on the other side of Cas, with another man in tow.

"Oh come join the real party, anything to stay away from those vultures" Molly snorts with an eye roll, earning a laugh from everyone.

"I'm Tom, and this is my husband Stephen" The man, Tom, supplies as they each stretch out a hand. Dean reluctantly lets go of Cas' hand, and as they each shake their's, exchanging greetings.

Turns out Tom and Stephen live right across the street from them. Great, they're gonna have to get in extra good with them, because they might have seen something the night of the murders.

"So, we were giving these two the rundown on our lives, before Amanda and Bill start circling" Molly groans, and Tom and Stephen launch into discussing what they do for a living. Dean, of course, listens very intently, as he tries not to think about the sudden loss of warmth in his hand.

But he really doesn't have to think too long because he finds Cas' arm is curling around friggin waist.

Dean's eyes instantly snap up, as he tries to keep his expressions in check, but he can feel the heat creeping over his cheeks. Cas only gives him a nervous look, which makes Dean's chest tighten at the sight. Damnit.

Because yeah Cas keeps taking the lead, but he's never actually done this before, he's just doing what he thinks he should do. Cas must be anxious as fuck. And Dean's general "lets never talk about emotion or affection" attitude, probably isn't helping. He's the one who knows what to do, he should be helping ease Cas into this more, not having breakdowns every time they make eye contact.

So without really thinking, Dean slightly leans into Cas, causing him to wrap his arm around him tighter. It clearly settles Cas' nerves, because that worried look is gone, replaced with a smile, before he turns his head back to the conversation.

And Dean figures since Cas is listening, it's okay to tap out for a moment. Because excuse him, but Cas' arm is around his fucking waist, not even 20 minutes after he kissed him. Dean's just surprised he isn't passed out on the ground yet.

And that feeling-the feeling Dean of course doesn't talk-about is back and swirling around his stomach, threatening to bubble up his throat. It's making him feel nauseous, as his heart thumps against his chest.

But he can't exactly bring himself to care because there's a warmth washing over his body in waves. The heat of Cas' arm around his waist and shoulder resting against his own, radiates through his jacket. Dean can smell the worn leather mixing with Cas' cologne as he tries to focus back in on the conversation-what is he doing.

He's supposed to be getting info about the neighbors, and all he can think about is Cas' arm around his waist. Which is only there to keep up the act, and it doesn't matter that it fee-nope not even gonna go there.

Focus Winchester.

"-but enough about work, how did you two meet?" Dean catches Molly asking, and thank god he chose that moment to pull it together.

So Dean quickly meets Cas' eye. Both knowing they have to nail this part if they plan to gain anyone's trust. They hadn't exactly rehearsed it, but they are best friends who've spent over a decade lying for a living. They've got this.

Dean takes a steadying breath, ignoring the swirling and the warmth and the heart rate.

"Well, it was back in 2008. I was sort of going through a bit of a rough patch at work and was frequenting the local bar a bit too much. But maybe the hangovers were worth it, because one night this guy with wild hair and baby blues strolled in and happened to sit at the other end of the bar. And just my luck he looked about just as much of a mess as I did-no offense babe" Dean began putting on a show, and Cas rolled his eyes.

"Oh please, you didn't look half the mess that I did" Cas teases dramatically. Cas then gave him a look, leveling Dean with an arched eyebrow, causing laughter to bubble around them.

"Yeah yeah Casanova, we both looked a wreck okay? So much of a wreck that we apparently felt so sorry for each other, that we unknowingly bought one another a drink"

"After the bartender pointed out who bought me the beer, I looked up to see it was the person I had just bought a drink. So I figured he was worth a little conversation, and I moved to sit on the stool next to him" Cas continues, throwing a wink at Dean.

Damn they were good at this.

"And it turned out we were both walking disasters. I was out of a job, and Cas here had just gone through the world's worst breakup-"

"We had been together for years, and I had decided I'd had it. It was a mess, his whole family got involved. But I guess it was a good thing it was such a disaster, or I never would have gotten a drink from the gorgeous man at the end of the bar" Cas cuts back in, which definitely didn't make Dean's cheeks flare.

"Anyway, we got to talking, probably overshared way too much with a complete stranger, and called it a night. But I thought I'd be crazy to let him get away, so I practically chased him down on the street to get his number. And god was I lucky he didn't think I was a creep-"

"Actually I thought it was very romantic. Like a movie, too bad it wasn't raining. But honestly, I was just lucky he didn't think I was a creep when I called to ask him on a date the next morning" Cas jokes, earning another laugh from the group. Dean quickly surveys their faces to see that they're hooked. Time for the grande finale.

"And really the rest is history, we just sorta clicked. It sounds like bullshit, but it was like we were made for each other ya know? Cas just always knew what to say, always knew what to do to, understands me better than anyone else, helps me through every obstacle. I guess you could say he basically pulled me out of hell. And he still does, every day. There's no one else in the world I'd rather have by my side" Dean gushes, tacking on the hell line as a joke, but it didn't exactly sound like one. No, it sounded like the most sincere thing Dean's ever said, and he quickly realizes that it's not part of the act. He really means it.

He glances back over at Cas to see him slightly slack-jawed, gazing at him in soft wonder. Dean's heart picks up again, stomach swirling as he makes a little fist to ground himself.

Because of course, he means it Cas is his best friend, he's family that's nothing new. But it's more than that and yo-nope. Focus. Cas is only looking at him like that as part of the act, he's playing up.

Dean quickly tries to wrack his brain for something to say, but thankfully Molly cuts in.

"God aren't you two just the cutest, sappiest couple in the entire world! Oh my god, you're like a romcom. The perfect couple" Molly practically shouts earning a laugh from everyone and nods of agreement.

"Trust me, it wasn't as simple as a romcom. We fight, and we scream, but we always come back to each other" Cas says earnestly, looking right into Dean's eyes.

And Dean's pretty sure his heart is gonna burst through his chest because Cas' heart eyes look pretty damn convincing and it's sending his thoughts running. But thankfully, Tom and Stephen start telling the story of how they met, so Dean can thankfully push those thoughts aside. For now.

And after an hour of small talk, Dean and Cas have got a pretty good grasp on the people they're dealing with.

They learn that Stephen and Tom are both doctors at the same hospital, they have three-year-old daughter named Elizabeth. And with a glance over at the kids' section, they see that she and Jack are playing together. Another couple, Emma and Rachel come and join them all about halfway through. Emma is a cardiologist, and Rachel is a biomedical engineer, and they're in the process of adopting. They also learn that this entire week is the "Annual Autumn Festival", and there's a different event hosted by a different family each night, ending with a huge block party on Saturday night. Apparently, the school in town gives the kids a whole week off for some "district convention" with the higher ups, so they've been doing this for years.

And honestly, despite everything, Dean's actually having a good time. Yeah, these people's careers are insane, but Dean thinks they're pretty normal, and he's genuinely enjoying talking to them. And they seem to have warmed up to them, so with a slight nod from Cas, Dean goes in for the kill.

"So, we have to ask. We saw some crazy stuff in the news about this neighborhood, of course, it was after we bought the place. But we couldn't find much info about it" Dean begins gently to ease them into the conversation.

"Oh you must be talking about Carol and Mike" Rachel supplies with a frown, and a silence settles over the group.

"We're sorry, we didn't mean to pry. We were just curious sin-"Cas begins to apologize

"No, it's okay. You've got a right to know since it is about your house and all. Not your fault someone paid to keep it out of the news" Ton sighs heavily, and Stephen comfortingly presses his kiss to his temple.

"Carol and Mike were our best friends before they we-before everything" Stephen chokes out.

"We're so sorry for your loss" Dean offers, Cas nodding along.

"The night it happened, we were actually all supposed to go out to dinner. The four of us and the kids, it's a monthy tradition. But when we walked across the street to meet them, Carol answered. We should have known something was off bu-"

"Hello! I'm seeing frowns which is never a sign of a good party!" A shrill voice calls, which earns a groan from the group.

Damnit. They were so close.

Suddenly there's a shorter woman with platinum blonde hair, and a man with enough goop in his hair to grease a pan, who've both clearly had some work done.

"Hi I'm Amanda, and this is my husband Bill. You two must be our new neighbors" Amanda smiles with her too-white teeth, extending a hand with perfectly manicured nails. Of course, they are.

Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes, but with a squeeze on his side from Cas, he's reaching out his hand to shake theirs'.

"Bill, a pleasure to meet you! Nice to see you've already found your people. I know how you guys like to group up" Bill laughs with an equally blinding, white smile.

A pit drops in Dean's stomach. "Your people", who does this guy think he is? And these aren't Dean's people he's stra-

Give it a rest Winchester, you can only lie to yourself about so many things at once.

Fine so maybe they are "Dean's people", but this homophobic assclown has no right to say it, especially not like that.

"Well, not as much as your people lik-"Dean starts, only to be cut off by a pinch to his side and he whips his head towards Cas.

"Just let it go, he isn't worth it" Cas softly whispers in his ear, while he gently pulls him closer. With a huff, Dean begrudgingly lets it go.

He turns back to the conversation to see Bill and Amanda completely ignoring them, as they ramble on about nonsense. Dean quickly locks eyes with each couple, they throw him an eye roll, or a face when Amanda and Bill aren't looking.

"Oh Amanda and Bill, looks like you found the new neighbors" Molly calls slightly strained as she and Jason practically run back over.

"Yes, but sadly we don't have much time to chat with them tonight. There are still some people we must say hello to" Amanda informs, and honestly, Dean could cheer from relief.

"But you two must stop by sometime this week so we can get you properly acquainted with the neighborhood. Maybe widen the variety of your social groups" Bill snarks and Dean opens his mouth to retort but is silenced by a sharp tug from Cas.

"Thank you for the offer, bu-" Cas answers cooly before Dean even thinks about reopening his mouth.

"Perfect! Stop by Tuesday around two, we'll have lunch! But like I said we must be going, try to have a pleasant evening. Oh and Molly, that chicken looked a bit dry, might want to check on that" Amanda proclaims, and then she and Bill are disappearing into the crowd.

Dean turns to glare at Cas, who only gives him a look that reads "we'll talk about it later".

"I'm so sorry you got trapped by them. God, they're the fucking worst" Molly groans in apology

"Yeah can't argue with that" Dean grits out, still fuming from Bill's words and Amanda's stupid smirk.

"And Bill's such a homophobic bastard, thinks he's so subtle. God, what I'd give to shove a-" Emma rants, only to be cut off by a gentle shove from her wife.

"We can try to get you out of the lunch with them, we can sa-"Jason offers, but Cas of all people shuts him down.

"It's okay, if we go once and make them hate us, maybe they'll never bother us again. Oh and I'm sorry, but we really better get going. It's almost Jack's bedtime. Thank you for everything" Cas explains with a smile, shooting a look at Dean.

"Yeah, this was a killer party. So great to meet you guys, hope we see you all soon!" Dean says plastering on a smile despite his bubbling anger.

And with quick goodbyes, Cas' arm unsnakes itself from around Dean's waist. But before he can mourn the loss, he feels his hand in his dragging him silently towards the kids' section. They scoop up an exhausted, but ecstatic Jack, and carefully avoid running into Maria, as they make their way through the gate.

Now that they're alone, walking down the cold, dark sidewalk, Dean can hold it in anymore.

"God we were so damn close then, Barbie and Ken had to show up and shut the whole thing down! And now you want us to have lunch with them?" Dean rages, pointedly ignoring the way Cas' hand that isn't holding a sleeping Jack, squeezes his own. And of course, the fact that they're still holding hands.

"I know they were dicks, but I noticed them circling us for at least ten minutes, and they only rushed over as soon as we started asking about the murders. Isn't that suspicious?" Cas questions.

"Yeah I guess, but wh-"

"So I think they might be the thing we're hunting. I only agreed to lunch so we could check them out, and scope out their house" Cas continues, amusement dancing in his voice

Of course. God, it's so obvious how could Dean miss it? This whole thing is really fucking with his head.

"Alright, no need to be smug about it. But I still don't understand why you wouldn't let me tear that assclown a new one" Dean grumbles, anger quickly returning as they climb their porch steps.

Cas sighs dropping his hand, turning to look at Dean fully. Dean's heart starts up, as Cas levels him with an intense, unreadable stare.

"Because he's just some rich, homophobic asshole, who believes he's better than everyone. But he's not, because he isn't even worth your energy or thought. He doesn't know anything about us" Cas speaks, softly, as he rests a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean suddenly realizes they're standing almost nose to nose.

"And I certainly don't care what he thinks of me or you, and I certainly don't care what he thinks of us. Because all that matters is how we think about ourselves." Cas continues purposefully, and Dean's throat constricts at the words. Dean of course knows Cas is "indifferent to sexual orientation", but he doesn't know that he-wait is Cas-

"And besides, if he's the monster. We'll get to kill him, slowly" Cas says in a mock-serious tone, which startles a laugh from Dean's throat. He's so close he can feel Cas's breath on his face, and Cas can probably hear Dean's heart racing.

But thankfully the logical part of Dean's brain is still somewhat running because it reminds him that it's all for the act. "He doesn't know anything about us", Cas was talking about the act. These people don't know they're pretending.

Because none of this is rea-

And it happens so fast that Dean almost misses it, again. But now he's watching Cas' retreating form walk through the doorway, and up the stairs. Leaving Dean, standing alone in the cold night air, his hand moving to his cheek without consent.

Cas kissed him on the cheek, again.

But this time. Nobody was around. They were completely alone, nobody to put on an act for.

That swirling feeling his back and wreaking havoc on his stomach again, while that lightning thing courses through his veins, and his mind races a mile a minute.

Dean lets out a breath, aggressively running his hands through his hair, as he stares out onto the empty street.

Because what the fuck is happening.

tag list:

(Please let me know of you'd like to be added or removed!!💛)

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @shelikestv @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @organicpurplepants @you-cant-spell-subtext-without @writtendevastation @tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @sinnabonka @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @icefire149

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ura-writes · 3 years

Text

Trampolinist - Part Two

Part summary: You encounter a few strange teenagers, discover blown-up ruins, and find out about who caused them.

Warnings: mild anxiety, thoughts of murder, blood, threats, lots of swears

A/N - I got a good few requests asking for a taglist for Trampolinist, so here it is! Just ask and you shall be added!

@lemonmochitea

@dad-ee-drea

@victoria-a567

Also, this is non-canon compliant, but only by a bit. I may change a few small details.

Hope y’all enjoy!

(Also, if you can find the movie reference I put in here, then kudos to you!)

——

A lingering curiosity sits in the back of your head for the rest of the week, not quelled by any amount of Bedwars or Skywars, which leave you exhausted in the evenings.

Even your dreams hold inquisitiveness.

How lovely.

Eventually you have to go back to your home world to check on your animals, repair your tools and the like. It’s tedious work, but nothing you can’t handle.

Boredom eventually sets in.

It’s unnerving. You never get bored of combat, of competition between your fellow players and teammates, but here you are, eyeing the list of servers on your grid.

Only two people are on the server at the moment, their names not available for whatever reason. You’d prefer to pop on when there were no people online, mostly to scope out the server, but you’ll take only having to deal with two people.

Hopefully they’re adults and not kids that recently learned to use portals.

You stick your pointer finger out, curl it like you’re dragging it down a wall; a ripple starts where your finger lands, slowly following its path downwards. It rips a hole through the fabric of woven servers, creating a direct link to the Dream SMP. You just hope that no one attempts to close the portal, as opening one in the first place takes a good deal of energy and effort.

A sight of spruce trees and misplaced dirt greets your vision through the rip in reality.

An odd spawnpoint, but whatever. You’re not one to judge.

In the corner of your eye, where chat normally sits, a message pops up.

TommyInnit: who the fcuck

TommyInnit: what

TommyInnit: NEWY PERFHSAON

Ranboo: ah yes, perfhsaon

TommyInnit: shut the fuck n up

You chuckle at the messages rapidly crowding the chat, watching them fade idly while trying to find a way out of the really weird spawnpoint, which is, for some reason, walled off by a combination of dirt, wood and stone haphazardly placed down, as if in a hurry.

Your efforts do not go unrewarded as you spot a section of the wall that sits lower than the rest, low enough to climb over if you try hard enough.

Perfect.

Feet hit the ground rapidly as you get a running start towards the wall, scrambling upward after you jump. You fall almost immediately off the other side.

“Ouch.”

“That looked like that hurt.”

You glance upward to meet heterochromic eyes, red and green contrasting with the curious face split in half by its black and white sides. A tail flicks behind the person as their crown slips a bit down their head.

“Wh—the fuck?”

The figure laughs at your reaction, offering a gloved hand out to help you off the ground. Hesitantly, you accept, being pulled up easily, and that’s when you realize that he’s a lot taller than you thought.

“Jesus, you’re tall,” you comment idly, brushing yourself off. “Thanks, by the way.”

“No problem. I’m Ranboo.”

You introduce yourself with your tag, which elicits a hum of recognition from him, much to your pleasant shock and surprise.

“You’re the person that Dream invited, aren’t you?”

“In the flesh.”

He laughs at your quip at him, smiling with sharp fangs exposed to the midday sunlight. No point in judging a person on their (potentially, anyway) monstrous features.

“Well, you probably need a tour—“

He’s quickly interrupted by a loud “hey!”

“Oh great,” you mutter, crossing your arms. Ranboo looks a bit sheepish at your cocked eyebrow and slightly irritated expression, scratching his bi-colored hair.

“That’s Tommy. He’s uh… well, Tommy.”

A teenager wearing a red and white shirt and jeans with battered sneakers comes sprinting out of the nearby forest, coming to a halt just in front of you.

“New person!”

“Yeah, and what are you, the gremlin that got fed after midnight?”

The kid sputters out a few protests against being called a gremlin, sprinkling a good few swears in his jumbled sentences that mostly consist of rambles.

When Tommy gets his bearings, he eyes your tag, squinting at it suspiciously before his eyes widen in recognition.

“You’re the bastard that beat the shit out of me in Bedwars! Get ove’ here—“

One of Ranboo’s arms shoots out to grab the lanky teenager with ease to stop his potential assault on you. You just brush your nails off on your shirt.

“Oi! Lemme a’em!”

“No, Tommy, remember what Tubbo said?” Ranboo lectures, tail flicking in annoyance, eyes trained on him. “Remember?”

“You’re one to talk about rememberin’.”

Ranboo cocks an eyebrow.

“No punchin’ people we don’t know unless they’ve hurt us…” Tommy grumbles. “Can ya lemme go now?”

Ranboo agrees, letting go of his shirt and summoning a journal and quill to write something down in, muttering that he’s almost out of ink.

“Anyway, how about that tour now?”

You smile at him.

Maybe you’ll like this place.

——

“...and this is L’Manburg… or what’s left of it, anyway. It’s still being rebuilt.”

“How’d it get destroyed?” you ask him. “It takes a lot of TNT, Withers and dedication to destroy a city this big.”

I should know.

Tommy eyes Ranboo.

“Hey, it’s your city. I’m not explaining it,” Ranboo defends against the wordless accusation. Tommy exhales with a groan and begins his explanation.

“Wil-Wilbur, my brother, went a bit insane a few months back, blew it all up with Technoblade’s help. Wil’s… well, he’s dead.” Tommy sounds indifferent about the death, much to your surprise.

You nod absentmindedly, setting your eyes on a slightly obscured poster that flaps in the wind. When you get close enough to pin it down it reads:

Wanted: Dead or Alive. High Treason, Inciting Violence, Unlawful Use of Explosives, Extreme Terrorism.

Reward: See Authorities

Below that is a well-painted picture of a man you somewhat recognize, wearing a red cape, a crown, full enchanted Netherite armor and carrying an axe that seems to shimmer in the light.

Technoblade. You’ve had a few run-ins with him playing Bedwars and Skywars, even teaming up with him a few times. He always seemed nice enough, and certainly a damn good sword fighter. He always knew when to run and when to stand and fight, when to attack and when to defend.

“What did he do?”

Ranboo starts to speak, but Tommy interrupts him.

“Blew the rest o’ this place up. Bastard ran after that.” Tommy all but spits the words out of his mouth, like they’re acid or venom. “Fookin’ coward.”

Well, I wouldn’t call ‘knowing when to run’ cowardice, but we’ll pretend I agree, child.

“No one knows where he is now,” Ranboo adds. “Except Phil, of course. But he’s pretty much silent about it. Won’t give up a word of information.”

Shouldn’t be that hard to find one man, you muse to yourself. Bet I could.

“Well, I’ll let you know if I find anything out,” you lie with a smile plastered on your lips. “Y’know, as a sort of gift to you as the newest member of the server.”

Hah, as if.

“We’ll hold you to that.”

You nod and say your goodbyes, walking towards the central nether portal while keeping an eye out for an ender chest so you can get some of your stuff. You know the admin will take your elytra away if it so much as comes into contact with the server’s air, so you decide not to risk it.

Spotting one, you make a small noise of triumph and dart over there, grabbing the shulker with your stuff in it, transferring it to your inventory with a practiced ease.

Armor adorns your figure, enchanted Netherite striking an imposing silhouette against the blackstone beneath your feet. You twirl your sword with a grin.

Now to find Technoblade.

——

Turns out, finding a piglin hybrid is not easy.

You scoured the Nether for any sign of him, any trace of fabric, of a broken pickaxe, hell even a piece of iron he may have held. The ability you hold as a Jumper not only allows you to jump servers, but also allows you to find people if you have something of theirs.

Nothing. Zip. Nada. Zilch. Zero. Nil. Absolutely jack shit.

How can one man be so difficult to track down?

Just as you’re about to give up, a barrage of curses at the tip of your tongue, a glint of iron catches your eye.

Odd.

Hopping over a cluster of Netherrack and scaring off a few baby Striders, you see a small circle of iron sitting in a pile of red dust, looking dented and beat up.

You huff and brush the dust off of it, titling your head to the side when it reveals itself.

A compass, pointing in one direction, working even in the Nether.

Standing up, you pocket it and head to the nearest portal, jumping through to the other side only to grab the compass out of your pocket as you walk to who-knows-where. It still points in the same direction as before, only moving when you do.

An irregularity in the metal against your hand inspires you to flip the compass over to look at the back.

What lies there makes you smirk.

Technoblade’s cabin. Phil’s compass.

This might be easier than you initially thought.

#ura!#mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #technoblade x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #x reader #reader insert #Trampolinist: Series

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years

Text

Specs and the Flyboy (Chapter Nineteen-Part Three)

Summary: (Y/N), Jack and their friends finally face off against Leviathan and the Secret Empire.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Ya girl wrote this while dealing with sleep deprivation, cramps and the after effects of the vaccine, so I hope it’s good ‘cause at this point I can’t even tell lol Thank you all so much for reading! I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Nineteen (Part III) Leviathan’s Weapons Facility, Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republic (Previous Chapter)

While the two of them were ushered down the staircase that led into the crate-filled warehouse by Michael and Dottie, (Y/N)’s mind raced as she struggled to think of a way out of their current conundrum. I’ve been in plenty of tough scrapes before but even I’ll admit that this one’s the toughest one yet, she thought to herself, her eyes rapidly scanning the large room; there were large, frost-covered windows towards the ceiling, several boarded-up skylights and the two metal doors she spotted were both guarded by Leviathan soldiers. By the time they reached the base of the stairs, (Y/N) had counted a total of twenty armed enemy operatives – seventeen Leviathan guards, Attwell, Underwood and Michael Carter – and from the brief glimpse she’d gotten of their friends hidden behind a stack of crates, it looked as though both Pinkerton and Sawyer were badly injured and the others were trying to bandage their blood-soaked wounds. So, we’re out-gunned and out-numbered, she concluded with a sinking feeling as she bit her lip in worry.

“So, Chief Thompson did survive his daring escape!” Attwell grinned, walking out into the empty space amidst the crates and standing before the two of them. “Truth be told, I was hoping that we’d meet again; I detest leaving loose ends, and killing the SSR’s golden boy once and for all would’ve been a genuine pleasure.”

Beside (Y/N), Jack’s shoulders tensed but he tilted his head to the side in mock contemplation. “What, you couldn’t do it without your Leviathan goons backing you up? What a real tough guy.”

Attwell’s fist quickly connected with Jack’s stomach and when he doubled over in pain, the man struck him across the face and sent him sprawling to the ground. “Stop it!” (Y/N) started towards her partner but the sudden feeling of a pistol barrel against the back of her neck stopped her cold; tearing her eyes away from Jack, she met Attwell’s gaze and struggled to keep her voice steady as she spoke, “He’s not the one who’s screwing up your deal with Leviathan, I am.”

“Of course, of course, the infamous codebreaker.” Attwell stepped closer but she held her ground, raising her chin in defiance and refusing to look away despite how uncomfortable his stare made her feel. After a tension-filled moment, his face broke out into a stomach-churning smirk. “It’s a shame that such promising talent’s being squandered by the SSR, by those who dismiss and condescend you at every turn. I was very much like you before joining Hydra; I was overshadowed at Cambridge by my perfect older brother and his two brilliant flatmates; while William, Michael and Adam flourished in their respective fields of study, I floundered and was subsequently expelled but as luck would have it, I was approached by Hydra and offered a chance to unlock my true potential; and here I stand before you, Agent (Y/L/N), to offer you that very-same chance. With the new Leviathan, your immeasurable skills would not only be recognized but they’d also be celebrated. You and Michael could work side-by-side in our efforts to break through as the world’s leading superpower and once we achieve our goal of fully weaponizing Zodiac, Agent (Y/L/N), you’ll have everything you’ve ever truly desired.”

Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) noticed Jack’s hand resting on his waist and while Attwell talked, her partner’s index finger had tapped away. It only took her seconds to realize he was sending out a message in Morse Code on the walkie-talkie still clipped onto his belt and once she did, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

“You know, it’s a good thing you’re decent at codebreaking, Specs, ‘cause you’d make a pretty shit spy. You fidget too much.”

If Jack can think up an off-the-cuff plan to get us out of this mess then I can buy us all a little time by being a good spy, she thought with resolve just as Attwell finished up his speech. Taking a page out of her partner’s book, (Y/N) raised an incredulous brow at the man as the corner of her mouth curled into a humorless smile. “There was a time when I would’ve given just about anything for people to recognize me and my skills, to appreciate just how hard I’ve worked to get where I am today. But then I grew up and realized that the only person whose appreciation I needed was my own. Mr. Attwell, I don’t need to be celebrated or appreciated by anyone, but especially not by a pathetic imitation of the Red Skull.”

The man’s expression instantly grew cold at the comparison. “Then it would seem that you’re of no use to us.” His gaze shifted to look at whoever was holding her at gunpoint and he nodded. “Shoot her, Michael.”

“Stop!” All of them looked over just as Peggy jumped out from behind their makeshift barricade with her rifle pointed directly at Attwell. “I’ll give you the key.”

“Peggy, no!” The barrel of the pistol pressed harder into (Y/N)’s neck and she winced in pain. However, her horror was quickly replaced with dawning comprehension when Peggy flashed her a pointed look before briefly glancing in Jack’s direction. She knows about whatever Jack’s planning, she silently realized, playing along with her old friend’s ruse by rearranging her features into a look of righteous indignation.

Moving to stand beside Attwell, Dottie raised the hand that wasn’t holding her rifle and gave the younger woman a small wave. “Hiya, Peggy. You know, you really should’ve listened to me back in New York; I told you there were currencies in the world stronger than money. I practically spelled all of this out for you! But the great Peggy Carter couldn’t figure it all out on her own, so she needed the help of…” Dottie turned to (Y/N) with a frown. “What’re those revolting nicknames you call each-? Oh, never mind, I don’t want to know.” Turning back to Peggy, the spy shrugged. “Well, I suppose not everyone’s perfect, are they?”

“No, they’re certainly not.” Attwell agreed, gesturing with his head for Peggy to lower her weapon and holding out his hand once she’d set it on the ground. “No tricks, Agent Carter. The key, and you and your friends are free to go; it appears that at least one of them is in need of medical attention, so I’d be quick about it if I were you.” When Peggy’s eyes flicked over to where Michael was standing behind (Y/N), Attwell chuckled darkly and shook his head. “No, I don’t think dear old Michael’s going anywhere but by all means, Agent, go ahead and ask him if you don’t believe me.”

For the first time since they were ushered into the warehouse, Peggy looked directly at her older brother. Her hardened expression slipped and for the briefest of moments, (Y/N) recognized the vulnerable young woman she’d known all those years ago at Bletchley Park who mourned her beloved brother’s death. While her lower lip trembled, Peggy finally addressed Michael. “Not too long ago, I had a dream about you and you told me that you’d be right alongside me if you could. I didn’t believe it was possible, even when (Y/N) and Jack told me it was, but now we have a second chance at being a family again. Michael, you can finally come home.” She blinked away her tears and gave him the ghost of an encouraging smile. “Please, Michael, come home with me.”

(Y/N) could feel the pressure on her neck ease up but just as she was beginning to think that Peggy had succeeded in getting through to him, Michael coolly replied, “This is my family, Agent, the only family I have in this world.”

Peggy’s face crumpled as Attwell laughed in amusement. “I told you so! Now, the key for your friends.”

God, I hope that whatever Jack’s planning happens sooner rather than later, (Y/N) silently prayed, sucking in a breath while the younger woman approached Attwell. Once Peggy reached into her pocket and withdrew the familiar Arena Club pin, the man looked over at Dottie and gave her a nod; the spy slung the strap of her rifle over her shoulder and made her way over to one of the many wooden crates near them, kicking the lid off of it and lifting a small metal box out of the loose excelsior. The box looked innocent enough but as Dottie walked it over to Attwell, (Y/N)’s blood ran cold and she knew that the moment Peggy handed over that key, Leviathan would possess one of the world’s deadliest weapons and they’ll have lost.

“Get up, Chief Thompson,” Michael barked and while Jack got to his feet, (Y/N) was roughly pushed towards him. “And you, stand over there with him.”

(Y/N) did as he said, standing beside Jack and keeping her eyes on the scene unfolding before them as she murmured, “You okay?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Peachy-keen.” She watched Dottie hand the metal box over to Attwell, her anxiety steadily building within her while he examined the box’s intricate lock. “Are you going to fill me in on the plan or what?”

The corner of Jack’s mouth curled upwards and he quietly replied, “Patience is a virtue, Specs, just be ready for it.”

“Be ready for wha-?”

Just then as Peggy’s hand stretched out to give Attwell the Arena Club pin, the warehouse wall opposite them exploded. Rubble and splintered pieces of crates flew through the air but before (Y/N) could fully react, gunfire broke out all around them. Amidst the chaos, Jack latched onto (Y/N)’s hand and ran, yanking her behind the nearest tower of crates as bullets whizzed past their heads; both of them crouched on the ground and peeked around the wooden crates, and her eyes widened in amazement at what she saw. The explosion that had knocked down part of the warehouse wall hadn’t been an explosion at all but rather one of the Howlies’ trucks and as (Y/N) watched, Daniel and Henry used the truck’s doors as barriers while they exchanged fire with the Leviathan guards. Moments later, she spotted Peggy dart out from one of the aisles to join her boyfriend behind the open truck door.

“Wa-Hoo!”

Dugan’s deafening war cry from across the warehouse was punctuated by a fresh barrage of gunfire, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but revel at the familiarity of it all; her eyes were suddenly drawn to two men sprinting down the aisle towards her and Jack, and it took her a tense moment to recognize them through all the chaos.

“There you guys are!” Howard exclaimed before ducking down beside them, followed closely by an anxious-looking Edwin Jarvis. Reaching into the satchel that was slung over his shoulders, the inventor withdrew two handguns and offered the weapons to them. “You know, you two’ve got a real habit of gettin’ into trouble…”

Jack rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Says the man who was mind-controlled into almost gassing all of New York last year.” Springing up, he fired off several shots before ducking back down. “How’re we looking, Jarvis?”

“Well, Chief Sousa’s dramatic entrance provided enough of a distraction for Mr. Fieldman to escort Mr. Pinkerton and Mr. Sawyer out the front; their wounds aren’t life-threatening, but Mr. Fieldman promised he’d help treat them once they reach the clearing.” The butler set another satchel on the ground in front of them. “And we’ve brought more guns and ammunition, as per your request.”

“You know, Thompson, you said in your message that you needed a big diversion, but that whole entrance was my idea; I actually took it from one of my studio’s newest scripts, where a gangster steals-”

“Of course, Mr. Stark, your genius knows no bounds.” Edwin hurriedly interrupted the inventor’s rambling, glancing over at (Y/N) with his brow furrowed in worry. “And have you broken Mr. Carter out of his brainwashing? Where is he?”

Looking around the edge of the crate, (Y/N)’s heart dropped when noticed that several important people were missing from the gunfight. “Where the hell did they go, Jack?”

Jack craned his neck to see what she was looking at and swore loudly. “Shit, I-wait, they’re on the stairs!” By the time (Y/N) spotted them, Attwell, Dottie and Michael had reached the top of the stairs and had disappeared around the corner. “Jarvis, stay here with Stark and cover us, then go help the others.” Edwin nodded and her partner turned towards her, his blue eyes scanning her face for any signs of trepidation as he asked, “Are you ready, Specs?”

“As I’ll ever be,” (Y/N) pulled an extra ammunition magazine out of the satchel and tucked it into her pocket before giving Jack a determined nod. “Let’s finish this once and for all, Flyboy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Compared to the chaotic warehouse they’d come from, the rest of the facility was eerily silent and it wasn’t at-all difficult to follow the footsteps of the fleeing trio through the deserted hallways.

“You know that this is probably a trap, right?”

“Naturally.”

“Good. Just wanted to make sure that we’re both on the same page.”

Before (Y/N) could get another word in, a figure she soon recognized as Dottie dropped down from above them and began attacking; the spy kicked the guns out of their hands, ramming her knee into (Y/N)’s stomach and knocking the wind out of her before spinning and using her leg to slam Jack into the wall beside them. (Y/N) took advantage of Dottie’s momentary distraction and aimed a side-kick at her thigh, but the spy merely turned her sharp fall into a somersault; she stood and threw a punch that (Y/N) was quick to duck, and then she grabbed the spy’s extended arm with the intent of wrenching it behind her back. Dottie predicted the move, yanking her arm free only to wrap her hand around her throat and roughly shove her back against the wall.

The back of (Y/N)’s head erupted into a sharp pain while Dottie flashed her a condescending smile. “I already told you, you’re too easy! It’s almost pathetic to see you try so hard to be as good as Peggy.”

“Don’t need to be as good as Peggy,” (Y/N) choked out as the fingers around her throat tightened. “Just…just good enough to keep you distracted.”

Dottie frowned in confusion and that’s when Jack slammed the butt of his gun against the back of her head. The spy tumbled to the ground in an unconscious heap and (Y/N) doubled over, her hands firmly clutching her knees as she coughed and gasped for air. “(Y/N), you okay?” She nodded and allowed Jack to take hold of her shoulders, his soothing encouragements helping her finally regain her breath; once he was sure that she was fine, her partner handed over her dropped gun and rested his hand against the small of her back to urge her forward. “C’mon, let’s go…”

They left the motionless spy behind and continued down the hallway, turning the corner and finding themselves at the entrance of a dimly-lit boiler room. Beside (Y/N), Jack shuddered and she recalled the story he’d told her of the mission he and Peggy had conducted to investigate one of Leviathan’s training facilities; she nudged him with her elbow and gave him a brief smile, wishing that she could offer him more comfort but not wanting to distract them both from their mission. Jack nodded as if to say he was fine, but his shoulders remained tense while he silently gestured for her to go left into the room while he went right.

(Y/N) crept behind the various boilers and pipes, careful not to slip on the slick ground as she did. If I end up surviving all this, I think I’m going to sleep for a week straight, she thought to herself, her heart rate steadily increasing with each step she took. While she edged herself around another heavy piece of industrial furnacing, she found herself trying to think of how to break Michael out of his mind-control long enough to save him; Jack insisted that cognitive re-calibration was the only way but after being present for Peggy and Michael’s reunion, she wondered if reminding him of his past or even recent actions would also do the trick. But a sharp skid noise right behind her made her forget her train of thought and turn, dodging the knife just in time.

“You really should’ve taken my offer, Agent (Y/L/N),” Attwell spat out, slashing at her with the knife again and forcing her to stumble back into the center aisle of the boiler room; the blade sliced against her forearm and she stifled her cry of pain, dropping her gun and leaping out of the way as he aimed for her again. “Soon, you and your foolish friends will be dead and Leviathan will have more power than you could possibly imagine!”

“Don’t you ever get tired of hearing your own damn voice?” (Y/N) retorted, her hand shooting out and twisting the red-colored knob beside them; a pipe next to Attwell spewed out pressurized steam and he let out a shriek of pain as the steam enveloped the right side of his face. Not wanting to stick around, she turned and sprinted further into the vast room, a part of her hoping that she’d bought herself enough time to save Michael. Skidding around a corner, she was immediately met with the sight of Jack and Michael engaged in a vicious fight on the floor; her partner was trying to wrestle something out of the other man’s closed fist, but he was so preoccupied with his task that he didn’t see Michael’s other hand brush the handle of a nearby gun. (Y/N) kicked the gun away from him, pinning his shoulder to the ground with her knee and spoke the first thing that came to mind. “Visions, light, cheered, night, dream!”

As she finished reciting the five words he’d used to encode his final message to Peggy, something shifted in Michael’s dark eyes and his clenched fist relaxed, allowing Jack to snatch the Arena Club pin from him. Before any of them could say or do anything more, a fiery ache erupted along her shoulder blade and she cried out in pain as she pitched forward. “(Y/N)!” Jack looped his arms underneath hers and dragged her over to half-lean against a pipe; her vision was partially clouded by the pain, but she could still make out the bloody knife he’d just pulled out of her upper back and tossed onto the ground beside them. “No, no, don’t look at that, just keep your eyes on me!” He pressed his trembling hand tight against the wound and when she nearly whimpered, he held the side of her face with the other and frantically nodded, his blue eyes steadily filling with panic that he struggled to control. “I-I know it hurts, baby, but I have to keep pressure on it; it’s not very deep, but I can’t have you fainting right now so keep your eyes on me, c’mon-”

“How touching,” Both of them looked up to see Attwell and Michael standing before them, the former with a self-satisfied smirk on his half-seared face and the latter staring stonily down at them. “Let’s make a new deal, Chief Thompson: Give me the key, and I won’t let Agent (Y/L/N) slowly bleed out on the floor of this boiler room.”

“Bastard.” Jack spat back, but his hand left (Y/N)’s face long enough to retrieve the Arena Club pin from his pocket and throw it into Attwell’s waiting hand. “You better start lookin’ over your shoulder now, Attwell, ‘cause I won’t rest until I kill you myself.”

Attwell shrugged and ran his fingers over the pin, twisting it sharply to convert it into a key. “Such fiery attitude in the face of doom was precisely why I was looking forward to killing you. But then I realized, forcing a man like you to live with your mistakes is a far worse punishment than death; and to make this victory sweeter, I plan on unlocking Zodiac in front of you both, so you can see just how spectacularly you failed yourselves, your agency and your country.” He turned to Michael with his brow raised in expectation. “Are you ready to make history, old chap?”

Michael nodded. “Of course…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the metal box containing Zodiac; (Y/N) tried getting up, unwilling to sit back and let Leviathan win, but Jack’s strong arms held her in place against him. When she met his gaze, he gave her a barely-discernible head shake and with her jaw clenched tight, she watched Attwell push the key into the lock and turn it clockwise; the lid popped open and the man breathed a sigh of relief, reaching into the slightly-smoking box and holding an electric-blue colored vial with strange etchings carved into the glass.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? So much potential for war and destruction, and it fits within the palm of my hand.” Attwell looked up at Michael and continued, “My brother never appreciated such things, you know. He never truly appreciated you, either; once you were found out to be a deep-cover spy for the SOE, I saw an opportunity to mold you into the person you were always meant to be. Do you remember the first thing I told you after you came out of Hydra’s operating room?”

Michael’s hardened expression faltered, almost as if he was struggling to control his actions, and in an instant, he drew his gun and shot Attwell directly in the chest. There were tears in his eyes as he finally replied, “‘Michael, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’”

The box and the vial slipped out of the dying man’s hands and as he began to sway dangerously on his feet, (Y/N) lunged forward and caught both in her hands before they could hit the ground. While Attwell’s lifeless body collapsed to the ground in a heap, she and Jack hurriedly placed the deadly Zodiac back into the box and slammed the lid closed; she let out a shaky breath, unable to grasp everything that had just happened. Michael dropped to his knees, tossing his gun to the side and rubbing his head with one hand; still mindful of her now-oozing wound, Jack held her a little closer as they both warily watched the unsteady man turn away from Attwell’s body to look at them. “I-It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Agent (Y/L/N). I’m Michael Carter, SOE.”

A smile slowly stretched across (Y/N)’s face and a sense of relief was beginning to wash over her as a familiar voice called throughout the boiler room. “(Y/N)? Jack?”

“We’re back here, (Y/N) needs some medical attention but we’re okay!” Jack called back, meeting (Y/N)’s gaze and flashing her a lopsided grin. “You’re gonna be fine, Specs, you hear me?” With a relieved chuckle, Jack leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her sweat-covered brow before resting his cheek on the top of her head. “We’re all gonna be fine.”

“Hey!” The first person who rounded the corner was Daniel, whose gun was already at the ready when he pointed it at Michael. “Hey, get the hell away from them!”

Jack held out a placating hand to the chief. “Easy, Danny Boy, he’s good right now; he’s the one who killed Attwell.”

Lowering his gun, Daniel limped over to where they sat against the pipe and knelt down as best he could to examine her knife wound. “Looks like the knife missed everything important, thank goodness. What the hell happened down here?”

Jack detailed everything they’d dealt with after hurrying out of the warehouse as their friends joined them; Edwin began treating her various wounds with Henry’s assistance, Howard carefully stowed the box containing Zodiac and its key into a satchel and Dugan worked on locating a weak point in the wall to blow a quick exit for them. There was a flurry of voices and activity surrounding (Y/N), but all her attention was on Peggy and Michael; they were talking to each other in low tones, Michael looking heartbreakingly unsure and Peggy trying her hardest not to cry, until they both surged forward and hugged one another. For the second time that day, (Y/N) was reminded of Freddie but while she watched the Carter siblings finally reunite, she didn’t feel sadness or envy, but rather pride. She was proud of herself, for having helped stop Leviathan’s plans and for having made-do on her promise to reunite her oldest and dearest friend with her beloved brother. If anyone deserves a second chance at happiness it’s those two, she thought to herself, taking a deep breath and resting her head against Jack’s strong shoulder.

They did it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Only one more chapter left!! Like I said, idk how I feel about this chapter as a whole so I’m sorry if there’s mistakes/it’s bad, but next week’s is gonna be great! Thank you guys so much for reading! If you haven’t checked it out yet, I created a Spotify playlist for this series and it’s linked down below!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21pWY7OiMFj8LaYpxhtVtW

Chapter Twenty

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @fluffymadamina @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @theserenityspace @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent @momc95 @brooke0297 @kinda-c0nfused @outoftheregular

#jack thompson x reader #agent carter #jack thompson #peggy carter #daniel sousa #howard stark #edwin jarvis #dum dum dugan #pinky pinkerton #happy sam sawyer #the howling commandos #michael carter #dottie underwood #marvel cinematic universe #strategic scientific reserve

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os-hyoideum · 3 years

Text

the wh*res are fighting 19 (one-shot)

Part 19: THE DATE

Previous - here - Next

masterlist

(this, perhaps, can be read seperately, so if you you wanna check it out, but nit the SMAU, then go on 😉)

a/n: Ok, it took me a long time, but I had a lot of uni work and it's also almost 5k words 🙃 Like, I can pull the standard SMAU texts out of my ass in an hour sometimes, but this? Nah-ah, I like writing, but I'm mostly slow. (but I will write out the ending too) Since the format is different, I'm putting content warnings on this (outside of the ones on the matserlist). Again, it's an AU so I will write Touya as bitchy or soft as I please, and I take no criticism for it 💅 (now watch me destroy them after some nice time - if you see this no you don't)

THE SHOT IS UNDER THE CAT

WORDCOUNT: 4878

CONTENT: hero!AU (Dabi/Touya is a hero), OOC, Y/N is awkward at feelings (cringe), lack of safety equipment (sledgehammers), romantic arson (just a bit), cursing, tatted up/pierced Touya, Touya rides motorcycle

I really hope you gonna enjoy it, cause I enjoyed writing it and I think it's alright!

You looked up from your phone to see the place where you were to meet Touya. As a first part of his date plan, he invited you to a small café that looked almost like a bookshop from outside. On the windows hung colorful fairy lights (although turned off, due to it being bright outside) and some handmade paper decorations. It truly was a nice place, but quite an unusual choice, considering it was Touya who chose it; a bit too wholesome perhaps, but who were you to judge.

After making sure that the address you arrived at was the correct one, you stopped under a tree to get some shade from the warm sun rays. You started to look around, seeing people, some of them in a rush, some enjoying the nice weather, while leisurely walking to their mysterious destinations. Unfortunately, one face was oddly familiar. Standing on the opposite side of the road was an ordinary looking man in dark clothing. Looking straight into your eyes, he moved towards the crosswalk and, in a very relaxed manner, directed his steps towards you.

You tensed up, ready for anything. It wasn't a good omen to see him right there, right now. He was sent there as a warning and it was apparent in his intense gaze and every little calculated move. Also, because you knew how the gods' machine works.

After barely a few seconds, the unnamed man stopped right in front of you, leaving precisely one and a half meter of space between your bodies. Perfectly straight back, relaxed face features, hands in sight. It didn't seem as though he was there to attack or cause trouble (any bigger than his presence alone already was), but you knew better than to let your guard down. Staring him down, you waited patiently for his words.

“Hello, number Four,” he said with a slight underline of contempt in his voice.

“What do you want?” You looked around to check if any unwanted attention was on you two. It wasn’t really necessary considering both of you looked like ordinary civilians, but, at the end of the day, it’s better to be aware of one’s surroundings.

The man shifted his weight slightly, taking half a step closer.

“You know your little paradise won’t last long.” He exclaimed and smiled cynically. “Or have you, perhaps, forgotten?”

“Fuck off.” With a cold voice and a cold gaze, you ended the short exchange. The man did not move, however. He stood, still with an annoyingly straight back, in front of you and looked both harmless and ready to leap at you, had he deemed it necessary.

The stare off was short lived. A few seconds later you felt a presence coming from behind you and the man was pushed away by Touya, who came just in time to hear the end of your conversation. He looked a bit concerned, but stared at the mysterious person with a hard gaze and little bit of blue flame coming from the corners of his mouth.

“She told you to fuck off, so go and scurry away.”

Unbothered, the man didn’t pay any attention to this sudden event. He seemed even amused by it to some extent.

“I see you got yourself-” he glanced quickly towards Touya, who stood right next to you “a dog.”

Already annoyed before by the sheer presence of this man, now you felt your blood boil. WIthout thinking much, you leapt towards him and harshly grabbed the collar of his shirt. You heard someone close-by whisper with a scared voice, but you paid no mind to it.

“Fuck. Off.” You started, accentuating the words and putting as much venom into them, as you could muster. “Go and crawl at their feet like the pathetic nobody that you are.”

You saw a change in his eyes. No longer emotionless, he seemed irritated, which filled you with a bit of sadistic pride. He forcefully pulled your hands away and shoved you back. Then brushed his shirt like nothing happened and, just before turning around and going away said:

“You are the same. Everyone who touches the Olymp is.”

Finally alone with your still-just-a-friend, you turned around to face him. Having brushed off the encounter, you smiled at Touya, first a little fake, but seeing him made you happy enough to be genuine after just barely a second. On the other hand though, he still seemed rather concerned with the strange turn of events.

“Who was that?”

“He’s a colleague... from work.” Your answer didn’t lessen Touya’s worry. His brows furrowed, while he decided to press a bit more.

“From work? He’s… a hero?”

You stood right in front of him and lifted your arm, putting the thumb between his brows, watching him relax slightly, as you caressed the crease in his skin.

“From before.” It was a diplomatic answer, both a lie and a truth. You knew Touya wasn’t stupid and would get to the truth sooner or later, but for now he seemed to let it go, so you changed the topic. “So, I must ask. Why… a cafe? I would be more inclined to think you’d take me to a boxing ring or something.”

Touya smiled at your teasing tone, but did not answer. He just turned around and started walking towards the entrance of the place. He stopped and held the door for you, still standing next to the tree, a few meters away.

“You coming?”

You looked at him unamused by his lack of answer, but went inside. It was pretty and cozy, which didn’t match with his more edgy vibe, but you just brushed it off and sat down on a plush armchair in the corner. You put your elbows on the table and propped your head on your palms, looking as Touya took his jacket off and threw it on the back of his chair. You started to closely admire the tattoos adorning both of his arms, from the hands to his shoulders (and even further, as you already knew).

“Both your tattoo and hand kink are showing, baby.”

He sat down and looked at you with a teasing glint in his beautiful eyes. You leaned back, crossed one of your legs over the other and put your arms up, in a gesture of surrender, but then looked at him accusingly.

“That’s not my fault that you’re a harlot. You’re basically putting yourself on display for me, so really, it’s on you. You whore.”

“You got me, but it’s only for you.”

Touya laughed then and stood up to buy you both a coffee. You sat still, waiting and looking around. When your eyes landed on the discarded jacked, you stood up to take it. A simple black jean jacket, quite thin to be suitable for the warm weather. Holding it by the collar, you brought it closer to your face and inhaled the smell of the perfume lingering on the fabric. You couldn’t quite tell what it was, but it wasn’t too strong and you had to admit it was one of the best smells you knew, especially with the mix of natural scent of Touya’s body.

The owner of the jacket came back with the drinks a few minutes later and saw you with the piece of clothing.

“A little thief today, are we?”

You took one last whiff of the jacket and put it down.

“It smells nice. Maybe I should buy this perfume for myself.”

Touya looked up from his coffee.

“You want my perfume?”

“As I said - it’s nice.” You shrugged and saw him smirk.

“I can give you mine if you want to smell like me so badly.”

“Hmm…” You hummed and leaned forward a bit, “Well, I wouldn’t mind smelling like you.”

You took your cup and started to slowly drink, while looking into Touya’s eyes. Something in them made you feel strange, perhaps it was the softness with which he took you in.

When sunshine fell on him from between the window decorations, he reminded you of some kind of angel, eyes almost glowing, silver piercings glistening; the sun accentuated every little shadow on his face, but, at the same time, made him look really delicate.

Touya’s gaze went down and your thought moved to the back of your mind. He adjusted his position on the chair before speaking.

“I guess I can tell you why the cafe, which you found, oh so surprising, I don’t know why.” He paused for a second to narrow his eyes at you. “I’ve heard you wanted a “normal” date, whatever the hell that means.”

“Wha-,” your eyes widened with mock surprise, “Did Shiggy snitch on me?”

“Please, he didn’t have to. It’s not like you asked all your friends for advice. So I decided to take you somewhere… classic, if you will.”

You crossed your arms on your chest and rolled your arms, then pointed an accusatory finger at your companion.

“Now you’re just mocking me.”

“Me? Never.” Obvious sarcasm on his part. “But I have one more place that I want to take you later. Perhaps more to your standards.”

Now you felt a bit guilty that he might have thought you didn’t like it. He didn’t seem so, but you preferred to explain either way.

“I don’t want you to think that I don’t appreciate it… it’s just…” You shrugged. “I didn’t expect something so… usual? Common? Normal, heh.”

“I know you’re just awkward, but let’s relax and enjoy ourselves.”

And so you did, talking about many different things for a few hours.

***

You put your index finger on your lips, pondering on something for a moment.

“Isn’t it going to be, you know… the anniversary soon? Of your mom’s divorce, I mean.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Touya nodded.

“Damn, happy birthday then.” You brought your cup to your lips like you didn’t just say… that. But Touya lifted his eyebrows and stared at you unsure.

“What?” You just shrugged and he sighed, “Nevermind then. Happy birthday to mom.”

A few seconds of a comfortable silence fell over the two of you. The hushed voices of the people around filled your ears; they mixed together, providing a nice background noise.

“So… how’s you dad?” You quirked an eyebrow at Touya’s surprised expression.

“You want to talk about my… dad? Of all things?”

“Well… I’m just asking! And you know… since he “sucks ass” does he also eat it?” You smiled stupidly, but he just stared with a deadpan. “Okay, stupid, I admit.”

“We have family therapy, so it’s not that bad. Though, the old mad does deserve the bullying.”

You agreed and made a toast with your drink to Touya’s words.

***

“Excuse me!?” Touya exclaimed loudly, “You did what!?”

You put an index finger to your lips trying to shush him, while a few other people looked in your direction, some with curiosity, others with disapproval.

“It wasn’t that bad…” You looked apologetically at some of the patrons. “It’s not like I died.”

Touya stared at you in shock for a good few seconds, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He was almost at a loss of words.

“What- not like she died! Fuckin-” He groaned and dramatically clutched his shirt on his chest. “You’re killing me! You’re killing your father!”

You snorted at his statement. Well, a flair for the dramatics was in his repertoire, after all.

“Don’t you mean ‘Daddy’?” You said with an amused smile and added with a tinge of irony: “Or do you prefer ‘father’ now?”

Touya did not find it funny (or at least, he didn’t let it show on the outside, if he did). He cupped his mouth with one hand, looking to the side, as to ponder on something.

“You know what?” He directed his gaze at you. “I might have to rethink the idea that dating you would be so nice. Like, you… fucking dumbass.”

Ah, concerned Touya, pretty sweet, you had to admit, but there really wasn’t a reason for him to worry.

“Keigo was with me then.” You stated matter of factly.

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded, “I am going to talk with that bastard too… no heroing with Keigo for you!”

You seriously didn’t think that he would be so concerned about the whole ordeal. After all, it was in the past, nothing really happened and if it would have happened, then well… you wouldn’t be here to discuss it.

You smiled softly.

“I don’t think you have any say in this.”

You chuckled, when Touya very aggressively took a sip.

“Jumping off the building… Who fucking does that!?” Oh no, the stare of disapproval.

“Keigo.”

“Because he has WINGS!”

“Yeah, and he caught me because of them!” You paused for a moment and thought for a moment about it. “Though I actually wasn’t sure he would, I mean… you know. He IS quite strong though.”

Touya actually looked like he was ready to end it all right then and there.

“You… didn’t know if he would catch you?” He articulated very slowly, slightly squinting his eyes at you. “And you still jumped?”

“Yup! You know, the adrenaline, fight or flight… I chose flight obviously.” You immediately saw that your cheerful carelessness and (an amazing) joke were nor appreciated, as he looked at you with a blank face, complete deadpan.

“I think, sooner or later, I’m gonna have a heart attack because of you.”

To that, you just cackled and reassured him that you would try not to die in a near future.

***

“Sooo… My sweet Touya, my favorite Todoroki.” He braced himself for whatever you wanted to throw at him, while you shot him a suggestive look. “When are you going to do a new tattoo?”

Oh, he already knew where this was going.

“I don’t know. Why are you asking?”

“You know…” You acted as if mulling on your idea and tilted your head to the side. “If you need some company…”

Touya sighed and just decided to get to the point.

“Do you wanna go with me?”

“Oh my god, can I?” You grinned and flicked your wrist. “You don’t have to!”

“Ok, then I’ll go alone.” He checked his phone, feigning disinterest, and took a quick look at you to see the hand still in the air and a very surprised expression on your face, that turned almost offended a second later.

“You can’t take it away from me! I’ll have you know, I have my rights.”

“I’m not taking anything away, since I never before said that you could go with me. You just always do.”

“Oh.” You looked down at your knees and did a fake sniff, knowing fully well he didn’t mind your presence… anywhere, really. “You don’t want me there?”

“Well, that-” he smirked slightly, “I never said.”

“So you’re just making a fool out of me then, I see how it is.” You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him. He just laughed

“You already do it yourself pretty well.”

You gasped loudly with a hand on your chest.

“The audacity! You… how dare you! If you’re gonna be bitchy, I’ll fuck your sister, I will. Don’t try me.”

Touya rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Will you though?” He seemed unconvinced, you wondered why. “Honestly, I thought you did it already. You were going out with her for what? Two months? That’s long… for your standard.”

“Nooo, I didn’t… really, I did not.” Then a different thought popped up in your head. “Won’t it be weird that IF we… become a couple, potentially, and I would, hypothetically, meet your family somewhere, you know, by chance and all. That I am Fuyumi’s ex, I mean.”

He furrowed his brows to digest your question.

“You think about that?” He smiled, seeing your awkward expression. “That’s cute of you.”

“BABY STEPS, PLEASE.” You loudly exclaimed, avoiding Touya’s eyes, to which he chuckled.

“Okay, just teasing you, baby.” His gaze softened. “But do you really care about that? What others think?”

“Uh…” you sighed, “I don’t know. Not really? But kind of.”

“It’s okay, baby steps, like you said.”

He leaned forward over the table, took your hand into his and soothingly caressed it with his thumb. Your heartbeat quickened a bit and, surprised at that, you just stared at Touya’s slowly moving finger. Feeling were never easy nor were they particularly good, but it felt so nice.

***

Suddenly you saw a flicker of colorful lights next to you, seeing that the decorations on the window were turned on. Looking out the window, you noticed how dark it became. The street neon lights were illuminated everywhere, people moving in all directions to unwind after hard days of work during the week. You were almost shocked at how fast the time went by.

“It’s pretty late, isn’t it?”

Touya hummed in agreement and, without saying anything, stood up to pay the bill. Earlier, you almost fought him to split it, but you came to an agreement that another time (“Oh, you already want to go out with me again?”, he teased) you would be the one paying. A moment later he came back, put his jacket on and you both exited the lovely cafe.

“So… where are we going?” You asked after following him in a completely opposite direction, to which you came from earlier that day.

“You’ll see.”

Ah, so much for getting information out of Mr Todoroki.

With a sigh, you just decided to follow him in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, like it usually tends to be, for which you were grateful. He wasn’t pushy, let you do things at your own pace, so you felt… comfortable.

A moment later you felt him grab your hand and let him intertwine your fingers together. Again, the annoying feeling in your chest reappeared. You would need to get a grip on yourself, if this was to continue. The evening was getting quite chilly so Touya used his quirk to make his palm warmer, but you almost took your hand away. You knew that it was bad for him, especially without his support items, even though he was able to control it, almost to perfection. Before you were able to get away, his skin quickly went back to its natural cooler state with a light squeeze to your hand.

Going through the busy street, you were able to observe people differently than usual. On patrols, you were mostly checking out dark alleyways, some abandoned or suspicious buildings, sometimes sites on the outskirts of the city; being able to, sometimes, take in the lively energy of the crowd was enjoyable.

Touya stopped after turning into some calmer sideroad. He took his hand from yours to grab a helmet and then helped you put it on.

“We taking your baby for a spin?”

“Of course.”

“Hmm, nice.”

After putting on his own helmet he sat down on the motorcycle, waiting for you to do the same. You noticed a new paint job on the matte black surface of the machine. On the sides were done shining blue flames, very on brand for him. You liked it.

You sat down behind Touya taking a hold of his waist, when he revved the engine and slowly drove away from the busy part of the city. Expertly maneuvering the streets, soon enough you were driving on the outskirts, where barely anyone was out. You looked at the changing scenery over his shoulder, noting the road you were taking seemed familiar. The trees surrounding you from both sides made the night look a bit unnerving, but it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. The city was far behind already.

You squeezed him just a tiny bit stronger and put your head on his shoulder, careful not to knock the helmets on each other. Loud howling of the wind and the noise of the engine were a surprisingly calming combination, which you have discovered long ago, the first time Touya took you for a drive.

Finally, the motorcycle slowed down. You passed the old busted metal gate and entered a site surrounded by a tall chain link fence, made from wire much thicker than usual to make it more sturdy. The place was situated on a flat field, a bit away from the trees. You could barely see the outline of the big city from where you were.

The space where he parked was relatively empty, save for an occasional piece of metal or glass laying here and there. The only building was a huge square block, bare walls outside “decorated” only by identical windows with perfectly measured spaces in between them. The inside should be relatively empty. What ought to be there are only some vacated rooms and stairs leading from the ground, through three stories, to the roof.

You got off the motorcycle and took the helmet off, hanging it on the handlebar. Taking a closer look around, you notice a pair of sledgehammers and a can of gasoline next to the gate of the building.

“An abandoned Commission site, huh?” You asked rhetorically, but Touya looked surprised at that.

“How do you know what this place is?”

You decided to ignore him and just pointed to the items you noticed.

“You planning to kill me here or something?” You said with a smile, looking at him. He quirked an eyebrow and moved to pick up the sledgehammers and offered you one.

“Birdbrain said we can trash this place.” You took the tool weighing it in your hand with ease.

“Of course he did.” You glanced at the gasoline. “Did he also say we can play with fire?”

Touya smirked, lifted his hand towards his face and lighted his pinky finger with blue fire. He then moved the hand more towards you, letting you blow it out.

“With me, it’s always playing with fire.”

“I knew you were an arsonist at heart, Touya.” You chuckled lightly, but your voice quickly died down when you looked at him.

He looked at you with an intensity that instantly hypnotized you to focus only on his eyes, which seemed to glow slightly. The only source of light was the moon and the stars in the sky so you were surrounded by harsh shadows and an occasional speck of moonlight.

The gaze with which he stared at you almost made you uncomfortable, because it seemed like he was able to read every little dirty secret you held deep within. A quick thought, that maybe he actually could read you like that, crossed your mind.

He moved a step towards you and brought his hand to grip your chin. Not hard enough to hurt you, but enough to feel that he could, if he wanted to. Exciting.

He pulled your face a little, so that his lips were right next to your ear. You felt his hot breath on your skin, when he asked:

“Aren’t you?”

You felt him move his mouth across your skin, from your ear right to your lips. The grip on your chin lessened as he moved his hand to hold the back of your neck instead. It wasn’t anything new to kiss him, but it felt a lot more intimate this time. No force behind it, no rush, nothing inherently sexual; just softness, an interesting contrast to his intense eyes and touches.

He moved away, just enough to speak up, your noses still touching.

“Come on.” He let go completely and moved to grab the gasoline, before entering the building.

You stood in place a moment longer, rendered speechless and motionless by the emotions you felt. The loud hammering in your chest was almost deafening. Not good, get a fucking grip. Without a word, you followed Touya inside.

After a few moments (when the blood pump finally decided to calm down), you glanced around. As you thought, a big empty space, at least on the ground floor. Since the electricity had been shut off a long time ago, the only light was coming from the moon and your phone flashlight. You went after him towards the stairs to the first floor, where a space was filled a little bit more by the rooms dividing the place.

Touya stopped next to a wall to one of the former offices and put his things down, before taking your phone to light your blank canvas, ready for destruction.

“Swing.” And so you did.

You braced yourself against the floor for stabilization and took a wide swing, from behind your back. The hammer made an impact with the wall and with ease penetrated it to the other side. Forcefully, you teared it out, making the hole two times wider.

Oh, it was so liberating. The destruction and chaos of this place would bring you much pleasure.

With a laugh, you took a next swing, and then another, and another. Both of you went on a rampage, destroying what you could in this deserted place. All of the windows broken (some of them with your fist covered in a rug found somewhere on the ground), the inside walls full of holes, doors ripped out of its hinges. The place filled only with dust, debris, and the laughter and screams of both of you.

After you had enough, you ended up lying on the roof. Touya’s head right next to yours, although upside down, as he laid in the opposite direction.

You stared at the clear night sky, admiring millions of stars visible that night. It was always an otherworldly experience to be able to see them. It made everything seem so insignificant in the comparison to the vastness and beauty of space.

Touya, however, was not looking at the sky. His eyes were focused solely on you. He liked the peace and calm visible on your face. You felt his gaze on the side of your face and turned your head to the side, to also look at him.

You moved your hand to push his hair back. It was always really soft to the touch.

“Your roots are showing.” You said quietly, looking at the white part of his hair. He just hummed with eyes closed, marveling at the soft touch on his head.

Before he could fall asleep here, you took your hand and sat up cross-legged. You turned around to look at him, still lying down and still looking at you.

“Didn’t you want to commit arson?”

He perked up at that and got up, but stopped you, when you moved to do the same.

“Wait a second and don’t move.”

You stayed seated and just observed as Touya took the can and started to pour the gasoline on the roof, away from the stairs, in some kind of pattern. When he finished, he motioned you with his hand to come to him.

Ah, so the gasoline heart then. You weren’t really surprised by it, but still laughed, although more at the weirdly proud expression Touya had on his face.

“It’s really cheesy,” you paused for dramatic effect, “I love it.”

You kissed him lightly on the cheek, to which he froze for a second. Oh, could it be that this time you were the one to render him speechless? After the initial shock, he beamed at you with his stupidly wide grin that sometimes appeared on his face. Though, after a moment it faltered and he grabbed your upper arm. You could pull away, if you wanted, but you just let him hold you.

“Who was that man today?” This again. He seemed worried, more than anything, which you didn’t like that much, cause he could drill it out of you, if he truly wanted. So you decided to avoid his eye, looking in the other direction.

“I told you already… it’s a colleague from work.”

“You know I don’t buy it.”

“I know, but… it’s the truth.” You looked him straight in the eyes, so he would know that it was not a lie.

“I hope you know you can tell me anything.” You wished you could.

“Give me the matches.” He knew that for that moment that would be it, so he let go of your arm with a sigh and took out a small box out of his pocket.

You took it and moved to the other side of the gasoline heart.

You wiped your teeth with your hand, to which Touya raised his eyebrows, but when you took one match out of the box and lit it directly on your teeth, he did look impressed by your trick.

Touya lit his blue flame and both of you set ablaze the gasoline. The fire traveled from both sides, to meet in the middle and create more green-like color. From behind the flames, you were able to see just his silhouette. A beautiful, although terrifying (to some) imagery.

When the fire started spreading, you quickly moved to leave this place behind.

Again on the motorcycle, tightly embracing Touya’s torso, you looked back to stare at the rising flames. Colors mixed with each other, creating a picture any painter would be proud of.

Playing with fire was always thrilling, you just hoped none of you would get burned.

TAGLIST

@the-fandoms-georgie, @fanworrior, @gingerunicorn13, @theunicornnamedearl, @dabi-sunflower, @anniebromberg, @bakugouswh0r3, @ddsweetie

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onlydreamofmysoul · 3 years

Text

The Prince and The Pornstars

Chapter Three

Okay guys! This is a super special chapter because we’re featuring the amazing art by my S.A anon. This is the costume Leo wears in this chapter and I’ve said it a million times but oh my god, this art absolutely blows me away.

Characters by @lumosinlove

Leo

“Hey um, Leo? You’re Leo right?”

Leo looked up to see the cute new fluffer standing in the open doorway of his dressing room. “Yeah,” He said, standing and offering his hand, “That’s me.”

Finn smiled and shook his hand. “Celeste sent me - I have your costume for today.”

Leo took the hanger from him, eyeing the leather skirt and very few accessories. “Huh, I don’t see why they’re bothering to give me clothes at all.” He joked with a wink and delighted in the way Finn flushed. Logan had been right - this boy was very innocent.

“I’m also supposed to ask that you be in the makeup department in twenty minutes.”

Leo smiled, a little charmed by how nervous Finn was. “Cool thank you! Do you mind waiting for a minute? I nearly always have a costume I can’t tie up myself and then I end up stranded.” He chuckled, remembering the intricate ties on a costume he had two months ago and having to slip into Logan’s room to have him tie it up.

Finn nodded and shut the door, standing awkwardly. Leo raised an eyebrow. “You can sit down, you know.”

“Oh right, thank you. Um, do you want me to look away.”

Leo laughed again. “Finn sweetheart, you’re working as my fluffer today, I think I’m okay with you seeing my dick.” He paused, smiling to himself as he pulled off his shirt. “Thanks for asking though, that was nice.”

Finn nodded, fiddling with the lace of Leo’s shoes which were still in his hands. “So how does one become a pornstar?” He blurted, then flushed an even deeper red. “Sorry, I don’t know if that’s like something I’m meant to ask or not? I was just curious because like obviously pornstars exist but you generally don’t just bump into one on the street so like… how did you end up here?”

Leo glanced up at him as he pulled on the black fishnets. “A guy I used to date actually. Well he used to do adult movies and I was his date to a work event and I met some agents and well,” He shrugged, “Here I am.”

“Oh.” Finn said. “So you do just bump into them on the street.”

Leo laughed, surprising himself. “Yeah, I suppose you do.” He wiggled into the leather skirt, noting the way Finn looked anywhere in the room except at him. “So how does one become a fluffer?”

It was Finn’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Apparently you need to be a fluffer here before they let you, you know, actually do any makeup. They really did not prep me for this in school.”

“Well I mean, we have plenty of school boy outfits lying around, so if you want to pop one on I’m sure we can re-educate you.” Leo teased and was pleased to see a real smile appear on Finn’s face. Leo took the shoes from Finn, realising that this costume had needed no assistance.

“Oops, sorry.” Leo said, “I suppose I could manage this one after all.”

Finn watched him lace up the heeled, holographic boots. “That’s alright, it was fun talking to you.”

Leo smiled again, then held his hands out to Finn. “Okay help me up please cause oh my god these are so high.” Finn stood up and took Leo’s hands, carefully pulling the blond boy to his feet. In the heels, Leo towered over Finn. Leo stumbled a little and steadied himself with his palm on Finn’s chest.

“Oh sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve worn heels this high wow.”

Finn laughed a little, seeming more relaxed now that he wasn’t the only one falling around like an idiot. “You’re okay.” He told Leo, moving his hand away from Leo’s waist where he had caught him and Leo felt a strange sense of loss at the movement. “I haven’t been able to get out two sentences here yet without blushing, so really, I think you’re winning.”

Leo chuckled with him as they both left the room to head down to the makeup department. Anywhere else and Leo would have been acutely aware that he was shirtless and wearing a dog collar but here it was nothing. There were people who worked on all different levels so you saw a nice mix of people in full suits right down to Leo in next to nothing.

“So do you like working here?” Leo found himself asking, knowing their world must seem so strange to an outsider. Leo remembered the feeling but it was dulled a little now that he was so accustomed to it.

Finn shrugged. “Am I allowed to like it? I never know what to say I mean like if I say I like my job it insinuates that I like jacking guys off which might make me seem a little creepy.”

Leo laughed properly at that as they turned the corner and he was just looking over to Finn when Leo collided with someone.

“I’m so sor- Oh hey Lo.”

Logan, still in his jeans and jumper peered up at him. “As if you weren’t tall enough already Nutty.”

Leo rolled his eyes, stooping a bit to press a quick kiss to Logan’s lips. “Fuck off Tremblay, you know you love it.”

Logan just snorted as he pulled away. “Hey Red.” He paused, staring at Finn’s Finding Nemo t-shirt. “Or maybe I should call ‘Fish’ from now on.”

Finn wrinkled his nose. “Please don’t.”

Leo groaned, tilting his head back as Logan’s eyes lit up. “You’ve done it now Finn,” Leo said “He might not call you anything else for the rest of your life.”

“I could call him ‘poisson’.” Logan interjected.

“Baby do not call him poisson.”

“Mon poisson rouge.”

Leo sighed and looked at Finn apologetically. “He’s gonna call you a red fish forever now.”

Finn ran his fingers through his hair self consciously even as he smiled. “I suppose there are worse things to be called?”

“Ha!” Logan cried victorious. He kissed Finn on the cheek and then Leo on the lips. “He agrees with me. Mon poisson rouge it is.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now go away cause we need to get to makeup and you’re making us late.”

“Just tell Celeste you were with me. She loves me.” Logan boasted, walking backwards away from them.

“Oi, she loves me too!” Leo argued.

“Both of you are dumb. Obviously we blame me. Celeste may not love me yet but I’m new and people are always nicer when you’re new.”

Logan and Leo stopped and looked at Finn.

“Damn poisson.” Logan muttered. “You’re good. We might just have to keep you around.”

Leo loved getting his makeup done. Sure, taking it off was a bitch, but he loved the feeling of the brushes and products decorating his face, it was soothing.

“So, you and Logan are together?”

Leo went to open his eyes but Celeste tutted disapprovingly so he kept them closed. “Yeah, yeah we are.”

“Oh, cool, that’s cool.”

Leo dared a peek at Finn while Celeste rustled around in her makeup bag sensing there was something the redhead wasn’t saying. “You can ask questions you know.”

Leo’s eyes were closed again, but he knew Finn was blushing. “Is it not weird working together?”

Leo hummed thoughtfully, he and Logan got asked this a lot as soon as people found out what they did for a living. “Like in a jealous way? Because no. I love him and he loves me and we’re both secure enough in our relationship to trust that. I mean what we do here is just a job, it’s hard for a lot of people to understand because our society indoctrinates us to believe people in a relationship belong to one another and while he’s mine and I’m his, we’re also our own.” Leo paused, laughing a little self consciously. “If that makes any sense.”

Celeste moved on to Leo’s lips, so he opened his eyes to see Finn nodding along. “I get that. I think I meant more like - doing scenes together? Is that not weird?”

Leo blinked, pleasantly surprised that Finn didn’t assume that he and Logan were some possessive primal creatures. “Oh, no, we don’t do scenes together.”

Celeste hushed him for a moment as she lined his lips. Finn watched what she was doing carefully and Leo was painfully aware that Finn was now staring at his lips.

Celeste moved on, dusting his collarbones with glitter and Leo started talking again. “Me and Lo, it’s for us. It’s not something anyone else gets to see.”

Celeste met his eyes and smiled knowingly. Finn just nodded, lips parted a little. Leo felt something he couldn’t fully explain twist in his heart and somewhere in the back of his mind there was this acute feeling he had never had before. There’s something missing.

“Alright boys, off you go.” Celeste said, running her eyes over her handiwork appreciatively. “You’re due on set in five.”

Finn and Leo strolled side by side down to the set they were using today. This time, it was a room that had been created to look almost exactly like the red room in 50 Shades of Grey. Kasey, Leo’s partner for the day was already there, laughing with Dumo their director.

Pascal grinned when he saw them walk in. “Leo! And who is this?”

Leo grinned and threw his arm casually over Finn’s shoulder. “This is our new fluffer, surely Celeste told you about him.”

Pascal’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Ah yes of course, Finn oui? Welcome!”

“Dumo is Celeste’s husband.” Leo muttered as everyone started getting set up. He took his place in a throne-like chair in the middle of the room just as Dumo called two minutes to start.

Leo looked up at Finn and swallowed. “So um, I kind of need you to uh…”

“Get you started?” Finn finished with a smirk and finally, he wasn’t the one blushing. Leo bit his lip and nodded.

“Yeah, if that’s okay?”

“Of course it’s okay. So um, what do you want me to do?”

“Just-” Leo reached out and took Finn’s hand, guiding it under the skirt. “Just like this.”

Finn took initiative this time and took Leo’s cock in his hand, trying to control his face as he realised the sheer size of the boy in front of him. Leo’s cock filled quickly as he stroked him, and Leo noticed Finn watching carefully to see what worked best. When he was fully hard, Finn paused.

“Is this okay or should I keep going?”

Leo blinked, coming out of the little haze Finn put him in. “No, no that’s fine, thank you.”

Finn smiled and moved away as Kasey walked up, already naked.

“Okay is everyone ready?” Dumo called, watching everyone nod their assent. “Yes? Okay good, and action!”

“I don’t remember giving you permission to sit there.” Kasey growled, walking over and tipping Leo’s chin up with a single finger.

“I’m sorry Daddy, I’m such a naughty boy.” Leo blinked innocently. “Maybe you should punish me.”

Kasey pulled Leo out of the chair, sat down himself and then tugged Leo on top of him in one smooth movement. Leo had known it was coming but it was still a little dizzying.

“Look at you all dressed up for Daddy.” Kasey purred, rubbing his hands up Leo’s thighs and cupping his bare ass. “I think I know the perfect punishment.”

“Okay freeze!” Dumo yelled and Kasey and Leo stayed exactly where they were as the camera’s paused. Leo saw Dumo go to Finn out of the corner of his eye and then Finn was walking up to Leo.

“Hey Leo? I’m going to prep you now if that’s okay?”

Leo laughed at the absurdity of the situation. This was totally normal for him, but the strangeness of the whole thing wasn't lost on him.

“Yeah Finn, go ahead.”

Kasey grinned up at Leo. “Why do we always have to do the Daddy scenes?”

Leo groaned as he heard Finn popping the cap of the lube. “I know right! It’s always so weird for me cause like damn I haven’t got daddy issues.”

“Okay Leo, I’m gonna start now.” Finn said and Leo nodded, then gasped as Finn pressed a finger inside him. Leo dropped his head on Kasey’s shoulder and tried so hard not to react even though every cell in his body screamed for more.

For a guy who was new to this, Finn really seemed to know what he was doing. After he had slotted three fingers in comfortably, Leo nodded and Finn was handed a cloth to wipe his hand off before he moved away to go wash up.

When everyone was back in position, Dumo called action again.

“I think I know the perfect punishment.” Kasey repeated and then he pulled Leo down right onto his cock.

Leo gasped in shock, acting as if he had no idea what had been coming. He rode Kasey for a while, and they changed positions a couple of times until they were done. He went straight to the shower, letting the warm water wash over him for a minute and his mind slipped to Finn. Then to Logan. Then to Finn.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Finn’s fingers felt inside him. Somehow it made Leo think of Logan. Their technique was in no way similar and Leo had no idea what it was, all he knew is he wanted Logan to feel it too. Or to feel them both. Was that crazy?

He got dressed quickly, towel drying his hair. He had taken off most of his makeup before the shower but some mascara had clung to his lashes and now he looked like a panda so he was carefully wiping away the black smudges when Logan came in.

“Salut mon coeur, c’est juste moi.”

“Hey Lo, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Leo heard Logan flop down on the couch as he turned on the tap to splash water on his face and wipe away the makeup-remover. He heard the door open again and figured it was Logan going to get something from his own room when he heard the murmur of voices.

He came out of the bathroom to see Finn sitting next to Logan on the couch and something in Leo’s heart stuttered at the sight.

“Hey guys.” He said, smiling weakly. Logan looked at him, a little in concern, but only because he knew Leo so well. Finn grinned, a little awkwardly.

“I was just bringing this up to you,” He said, holding out Leo’s own eyeliner. His skin was sensitive and he only used one brand, so he always brought it himself just to make sure there would be no mix up.

“Oh,” He heard himself mutter dumbly. “Thanks.”

He took the pencil from Finn, their fingers brushing as they did but Leo moved away quickly, putting the eyeliner in his backpack. Leo slid onto Logan’s lap, noticing the way Finn tensed as if he was just about to get up, but Logan held out his hand, showing them something he had pulled up on his screen.

“Oh my god, have you seen this post by Sidney Crosby?”

Leo half fell in his haste to look at it while Finn froze. “You guys like hockey?”

Logan smirked, leaning over to ruffle Finn’s hair. “Oh mon poisson rouge, you have so much to learn.” He patted the space on the cushions left between himself and Finn and Finn moved to fill it, his thigh pressed right up against Logan’s as he peered into the phone screen.

“We love hockey.”

#the prince and the pornstars #the prince and the pornstars chapter 3 #coast to coast lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #lumosinlove #Leo knut #logan #finn o'hara #o'knutzy #kasey winter #celeste dumais #pascal dumais #18+

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maddiewritesstucky · 3 years

Text

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Stripper Bucky / Architect Steve

Words: 3790

Tags: Sexy shower antics, post-exercise endorphin highs, Steve is a badass for like 10 minutes, Bucky is not a morning person (until he suddenly is), enthusiastic morning sex

A follow-up one-shot to the slow death of Steve Rogers. Many thanks to my radiant cassowary @kalee60 for giving it your clever eyes. Infinite birdseed for you 😘

(Also on Ao3)

When Bucky wakes up, he is aware of two things, and two things only.

One - it’s way too fucking early for his eyelids to have peeled themselves back the way they have, if the rosy tint of the sky outside is anything to go by, and two - his foot should have connected with some part of Steve’s anatomy by now on it’s customary post-waking stretch across the mattress.

His body is coming online one limb at a time, and he grunts his displeasure into the rumpled sheets; gaze firmly averted from the clock on the bedside table. Putting a number to it will only make him angry, and the stupid beautiful soft dawn light filling the bedroom tells him everything he needs to know anyway.

Why they had decided to move into Steve’s apartment when Bucky’s actually had things like properly functioning curtains, he has no idea.

"Steve,” he groans, voice thick with the remnants of sleep and the injustice of waking before he intended to.

He kicks his foot out a little further; throws an arm out to join the search party too, but finds Steve’s side of the bed decidedly more vacant than it had been when he fell asleep last night.

Running, some vaguely helpful part of Bucky’s subconscious supplies, you fell for a man who goes running at bastard o’clock in the morning.

He flops over onto his back and scrubs his hands up over his face; up through the tangled mess of hair that seems to find new ways of defying its scrunchie-prison every night. His vision sharpens into focus and sticks a moment on the giant canvas print photo of himself and Steve smiling back at him from the far wall; a grinning relic of a Bucky who was not woken before his time.

It still makes his stomach flip a little, that picture - the two of them stuffed into the heavy-knit sweaters Bucky’s ma had made them last Christmas; both in the throes of losing their shit over the comically absurd miscalculation she’d made on size. Steve’s got tears in his eyes, and Bucky’s aren’t even open, and they’re clinging to each other with that special kind of desperation that intense, prolonged laughter seems to spawn.

It’s everything good about their life together, that photo; the sheer warmth and joy they’ve found in one another over the past year, the sense of home and family and right.

It’s even more heartwarming, Bucky finds, when the sun is a reasonable distance above the horizon.

He drags his protesting body out of its sleep-warmed cocoon, his intentions set on the brand new bag of espresso grind that Last-Night Bucky had so wisely left sitting on the kitchen counter.

He’s going to use Steve’s favorite mug, the one he’d happened across in a yard sale that reads ‘architects do it on drafting tables’ with a lewd stick figure drawing. Partially because it holds the most coffee, and partially because if Steve had remained in bed this morning, with all his familiar warmth and dependable big-spoon behavior, Bucky would have remained blissfully unconscious until his alarm went off.

...Steve’s not here to actually see this particular middle-finger of a gesture, but that’s beside the point. Bucky will know.

It’s not until he’s shuffling his way down the hall, already two steps past the closed bathroom door, that Bucky registers the faint sounds of water hitting tile, and the sporadic, off-key hum of a post-run Steve.

His feet halt in their tracks before he’s even made the conscious decision that coffee can wait.

He wants to keep walking, to get his precious cup of bean nectar and crawl back into bed for another hour or three, it’s just...

Post-run Steve is kind of Bucky’s jam.

He’s sweaty, and loose-limbed, and hopped up on exercise endorphins which, more often than not, make him inexplicably horny and give him the closest approximation of a bad boy complex that someone with Steve’s demeanor could possibly get.

Post-run Steve is the only good thing about being awake at this god forsaken hour.

The sunrise, and the stillness, and the smell of fresh dew can get fucked, but Bucky will carpe the hell out of a diem for some Post-run Steve.

He slips quietly into the bathroom, and is immediately grateful for the time he spent descaling the shower door yesterday when he’s met with an unimpeded view of Steve’s glorious back. What goddamn right an architect has looking like that, Bucky has no idea, but you wanna talk about some aesthetically pleasing angles?

Steve’s got one hand braced against the wall, head dipped to draw out the line of his back. His skin’s a little flushed; water channeling in fast-flowing rivulets between the soft ridges and swells of his drawn-taut muscles, and he’s breathing those quiet grunts of the recently-exerted.

He’s a living, breathing thirst-trap, and the knowledge that he’d only blush and change the subject if Bucky told him so just makes it a thousand times better.

Bucky pushes his soft flannel sleep pants off his hips and lets them fall to the floor, sending up another silent salute to Last-Night Bucky for going commando, and steps forward to pull open the shower door.

...Later on, when Bucky is reflecting on it all, he’ll blame the early hour and his pre-caffeinated state for the fact that he didn’t realise. The soft noises falling from Steve’s lips, the very particular bunch and flex of very particular muscles…

Any other time of day, Bucky would have known straight away.

Any other time of day, and Bucky wouldn’t have even needed to be in the same room - he could be at the bodega down the street, and his nipples would inexplicably harden at the pluck of Steve’s distant arousal on the cosmic spiderweb.

But as it happens in the moment, it’s not until Steve’s head is falling back on a low moan that Bucky realizes exactly what it is he’s walked in on.

“Oh, shit...”

It’s off his tongue before he can reel it back in, and Steve almost jumps out of his skin.

His head whips around, and for the briefest flicker of a moment, he looks shocked and uncertain and embarrassed as all hell.

But this right here is no weekday-afternoon Steve. This is not the blushing, bumbling hunk of love meee that occupies the corporeal form of Steve Rogers 95% of the time.

No, this is Post-run Steve, and it’s all of about two seconds before he’s schooling his features into something more akin to vaguely-smirking indifference; turning until he’s facing Bucky front on, and settling his weight back against the shower wall.

“Babe, I’m sorry, I didn’t--” Bucky begins, as close to apologetic as one can really be about seeing their significant other in a compromising yet Very Sexy position. But the words dry up on his lips as Steve lifts a finger to his own in the universal gesture of ‘shush.’

He watches, rapt, as Steve first reaches over to the tap and shuts off the water, and then takes up the bottle of Bucky’s conditioner, squirting some into his hand before wrapping it back around his cock.

And then that jacked-up idiot, that neuro-chemical flooded pseudo bad bitch, looks Bucky dead in the eye...and goes right back to jerking off.

He’s putting on a goddamn show with it too - pulling at his cock, long and slow and tight; dropping his head back against the wall and letting his moans ricochet shamelessly off the tile. The sound of his fist working over his dick is lewd as hell, so much more audible for the fact that there’s no rush of running water to mask it anymore, and Bucky wonders briefly if he ever actually woke up at all, if this isn’t just all a very believable wet dream.

It certainly contains all the usual elements - intense eye contact; a big fat dick getting rubbed off by a beefy, naked, wet dude (bonus that it’s Bucky’s actual, real-life boyfriend); the kinds of sounds you usually only hear in porn…

For all Bucky knows, he could still be tucked up in bed asleep, and not standing here naked and painfully erect in this steamed up bathroom, watching his boyfriend jack it like he’s starring in some locker-room porno.

“You need somethin’, or you just come in here to watch?” Steve drawls, arching a brow at him, and yeah - there’s a lot of things Bucky needs all of a sudden.

He rakes an assessing gaze over Steve’s body, stepping into the shower and pressing his palms to the swell of Steve’s pecs.

“I just wanted to make sure your run went okay,” he shrugs, “no pulled tendons, shin splints...aching muscles…that kinda thing.”

He squeezes at Steve’s shoulders and his biceps and his tiny waist; threads his hands up through Steve’s hair and slots a thigh between Steve’s to push their hips together.

Steve’s skin is so warm, and slippery, and he smells like soap, and Bucky starts mentally calculating just how much time they have and how much energy he can feasibly expend before their respective work days start.

He’s not on stage tonight, but he is on shift for his day job at the community center, teaching a preschool ballet class at 10am, and then a seniors ballroom dancing session at midday before his contemporary classes in the afternoon. Steve’s working from home today, so hypothetically it wouldn’t matter if Bucky wore him out a little…

“Buck...”

“Mm?”

He rubs his whole self shamelessly against Steve, pressing in so the barbells spiked through his nipples drag across the wet expanse of Steve’s chest. He kisses Steve’s neck and his tits and his mouth, hungry and handsy and a little frantic, and Steve laughs softly against his lips as he turns them to push Bucky up against the slick tile of the shower wall.

“Your concern is deeply moving,” he deadpans, caging Bucky in with hands planted either side of his head, “but I think we need to talk about your bathroom etiquette...didn’t anybody ever teach you to knock?”

He’s staring Bucky down with eyes lit up something wicked; his body so very nearly touching Bucky’s but not quite, and it hits Bucky all over again that his boyfriend is, physically speaking...really fucking imposing.

It’s easy to forget, when he’s being...well, Steve. Perpetually polite, kind-hearted, goofy...Bucky feels like when he looks at Steve, he sees the softness of his nature, the quiet goodness that radiates out of him.

He sees the sensible shoes and the khaki pants, the careful artist hands and the way Steve still sometimes carries himself like the much-smaller man he claims to have once been.

He’s Stevie, and Bucky wouldn’t have him any other way.

But all of that also happens to be contained within a 6’2”, 200lb frame, and right now...Bucky kind of wants to suffocate under it.

“I am so sorry, Steven,” he says, though it’s entirely negated by the raging hard on he’s sporting and the giddy, gratuitous manner in which he’s still feeling Steve up.

He skates his fingertips down the rippled plain of Steve’s stomach, down to the trail of dusky blond hair leading south from his belly button, but Steve catches his hands and pins them up above his head.

“I’m sure you are,” Steve hums, “but I don’t think you appreciate the gravity of the situation here. See, you caught me in a very private moment, one that I was very much enjoying, and now I’m all thrown off. You got me feelin’ shy.”

...There’s some very compelling evidence to the contrary rubbing up against Bucky’s hip right now, but that’s beside the point. Steve’s teeth are scraping a line all the way down Bucky’s neck to nip at the ice fractals tattooed across his shoulder, and Bucky’s more than willing to play along.

“However can I make it up to you?”

He arches into the press of Steve’s body, the hard line of Steve’s cock nestled into the crease of his hip.

If Steve shifted just slightly, he’d be rubbing up against Bucky’s dick.

It’s not an accident that Steve isn’t making that shift.

“You really want to?” Steve kisses the question against his skin, making his way slowly back up to Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky nods vehemently.

He’s already wetting his lips in preparation for all the ‘making up’ they’re about to do; signalling his knees to get ready to bend and pulling at Steve’s grip on his wrists, but Steve doesn’t release him.

Instead, he pulls back just far enough to look Bucky square in the eye, and smiles entirely too sweet for the authoritative edge that rumbles into his voice. “Go back to bed, Bucky.”

Bucky has to blink a few times as the words circulate in his ears. His expression turns from I’m about to get some D! to oh god I’m being denied the D in about 0.2 seconds flat.

Bed is very far away from the dick that is currently in need of reparations, he can’t achieve anything from bed.

“But—you said—I was gonna—”

“Go. back. to bed.” Steve tightens his grip on Bucky’s wrists and leans his whole weight against him, right up in his space so his lips catch against Bucky’s as he speaks, “...and wait for me.”

Oh.

A big, stupid, ‘bout-to-get-railed grin stretches across Bucky’s face. He wriggles free of Steve’s grasp and stumbles out of the shower, stopping himself just shy of a wildly enthusiastic ‘yes sir!’

He thinks he can hear Steve’s laughter as he takes off back down the hall toward the bedroom, but it might just be his own echoing back to him. He throws himself down onto the unmade bed, still warm from when he got up not ten minutes ago, and honestly who needs to sleep in anyway? Sleeping in is for people who don’t have absolute poundcake boyfriends to screw them into the sunrise.

He should have toweled off, he realizes as his damp skin rubs against the bedding, but he cannot be blamed for life choices made before six am, and there are far more important things afoot anyway.

Things like the sound of the shower turning back on for approximately forty-five seconds, then the muted pass of a towel being scrubbed over hair, and footsteps on the hardwood growing ever closer to the bedroom.

God, this is gonna be a good day. What a beautiful day to be greeting the dawn, making the most of his youth, seizing everything life throws at him!

He has the good sense to snatch the lube out of the bedside drawer just as Steve walks into the room, eyeing him with amusement and hunger in equal measures.

“You know what the problem is, with what just happened back there, Buck?”

Steve saunters toward the bed with all the nonchalance of a man whose work day doesn’t start for another three hours.

He wraps his sizable hands around Bucky’s ankles and yanks him down the bed a little - for no other purpose than to hear Bucky’s breath hitch at the unnecessary show of strength - and climbs up onto the mattress to straddle Bucky’s shins.

“The problem is, I don’t like to make a spectacle of myself.” He plucks the lube from Bucky’s hand and pours some into his own, spreading it over his cock in lazy pulls. “Being the center of attention, having eyes on me...that’s more your speed.”

“Mhmm, yes, I am an attention whore,” Bucky nods, reaching grabby hands out at Steve who refuses to shift any further up his body, “and you are humble and handsome and have a big dick. Make out with me.”

Steve tuts and shakes his head, reaching his unoccupied hand to flick at one of Bucky’s nipple piercings.

“Oh, I don’t think you get to make requests right now. See, the worst part of you throwin’ me off back there? I was so fucking close. So now what you get to do, James, is flip the fuck over, and let me finish what I started.”

...Jesus, Bucky loves Post-run Steve.

He’s gonna marry Post-run Steve and have his hopped up little post-run babies, and make sure Steve never misses a single day of early morning exercise so he can bask in the glory of this magnificent bastard every goddamn day of his life.

Bucky flops over onto his front and gets his knees under himself, sticking his ass up in the air with a wiggle that’s probably a lot more comical than it is enticing. But the heat of Steve’s palms hook around the front of his thighs and pull them out from under him, sprawling him flat against the mattress.

There’s a sudden clamping of teeth on his ass cheek and the sharp swat of an open palm, and then Bucky’s being pressed firmly into the sheets by Steve’s weight settling high up on the backs of his thighs.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Steve sighs, planting his hands on the dip in Bucky’s spine, “I’m gonna use your ass to get off, and then I’m going to get back into bed, while you go make us some coffee.”

Bucky nods into the mess of blankets under his cheek, futilely trying to rock his hips up against Steve’s considerable weight. “Yes, agreed, punishment fits the cri-hi wow okay.”

A wholly undignified sound is wrenched from Bucky’s chest as Steve skips all pretense of tease, and thrusts his slicked up cock into the crease of Bucky’s ass, rubbing off between his cheeks with a very singular purpose.

Bucky scrabbles to grab hold of his pillow and drags it down, wedging it under his hips with as much success as can be expected when you’re being pinned by a 200lb adrenaline-testosterone cocktail. It’s enough though, to very favorably cushion the rub of his dick, and all things considered…this whole thing is working out pretty well for him.

He’s expending precisely zero effort, but the wet glide of Steve’s cock over his hole and the push of Steve’s hips rubbing him into the pillow is very much Doing It for him, and he lets his body go loose and pliant as Steve does all the work for the both of them.

And Steve is putting in work - rocking Bucky into the mattress with a fervor that knocks the breath out of him and sends the headboard careening rhythmically into the wall.

“Y’hear that, Buck?” Steve pants, not for a second breaking his frankly devastating pace. “That’s what a fuckin’ knock sounds like.”

“Oh my god.”

This is exactly how every single day of Bucky’s life should begin. Naked, giddy, cocks enthusiastically rubbing up against holes, and Steve running his mouth like he won’t be turning ten shades of red about it later.

If this is the payoff, Bucky will bust in on every single shower Steve has for the rest of his life.

“I love you,” he laughs a little breathlessly into the bedding, biting off a moan at the heat coiling low in his belly.

It’s entirely sincere, and he says it because he means it...but if he also happens to know by now that those words are a direct hit to Steve’s prostate during sex?

That’s just a happy coincidence.

Steve makes a sound like he’s been punched, his thighs twitching and tensing where they’re clamped around Bucky’s hips.

His breaths are coming sharp and shallow, his movements taking on a frantic edge that betrays exactly how close he is, and Bucky would ask him to slow down, except he really, really doesn’t want him to.

“I love you, Stevie,” he says again, letting his own building climax bleed into his voice, “love you so much...come on, baby...”

“Fuck, Bucky, I...oh...”

His weight falls forward over Bucky as he comes, and it’s all the shove Bucky needs to tip over the edge with him.

He spills all over his pillow, burying a moan into the sheets and huffing under the weight of Steve’s body going lax on top of him.

“Oh my god, Buck,” Steve groans, vaguely awed like it wasn’t his own efforts that just brought them both to sticky ruin, and Bucky reaches a hand back to swat weakly at him.

“You said it, pal.”

Steve nuzzles into the crook of his neck, planting breathless kisses against his skin and running his hands over every part of Bucky he can reach.

It’s so tangible, that shift back to normalcy, back to Steve. It always hits Bucky square in the chest, the way he can feel Steve’s edges softening, feel that boisterous energy turn sweet and mellow in the aftermath.

It’s kind of precious, actually, though Bucky would never phrase it like that to Steve’s face.

He squirms beneath Steve’s weight, getting himself turned over until he’s on his back beneath him. “Good morning,” he smiles up at Steve softly, running his fingers through the still-damp tufts of his hair.

Steve sighs happily, letting his eyes drift shut and tilting his head into Bucky’s hand. “Good morning, pervert.”

“Hey, come on, you know I didn't do that on purpose! ” Bucky laughs, cupping Steve’s face and kissing him all over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes, though the smile on his face says Bucky’s doesn’t really have anything to be sorry about. “Guess I can forgive you this one time.”

“You’re a gracious man.”

Bucky drags him down and kisses him right on his smile, sweet and lazy. When they pull apart, Steve’s got that dopey look on his face like he’s feeling a whole lot of something, and Bucky knows exactly what’s coming before Steve says it.

“Glad you love me, Bucky Barnes.”

...He knew it was coming, but it still gets him every time.

“Glad to love you, Steve Rogers.” He feels like he’s glowing a little as he leans up to peck Steve on the tip of his nose. “Now if I’m not mistaken, I owe you a cup of coffee...you’re gonna have to let me up if you want me to follow through on that.”

“Mm, counter offer - we both go wash off, together, and then I’ll make us breakfast while you handle the coffee?”

Bucky pretends to consider for a second before he nods, stretching his body out as Steve rolls his weight off him.

“Agreed.” He waves a hand in the general direction of the door, shooting Steve a wink and a lopsided grin. “Lead the way, pal. I believe you are intimately familiar with where the shower is.”

#stucky fanfic #stucky au #steve/bucky #stripper!bucky #architect!steve #pwp #sexy shower antics #Post-run Steve can get it

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

between us - chapter iii

The one where Aaron hurts you, but he knows just how to heal you.

When Hotch comes home one day and takes out his frustrations on you, you’re sent spiraling into a depressive state that you were all too familiarized with. But as your boss and closest friend, he’s the only one who knows how to take care of you during a relapse. His efforts to fix the situation end up awakening a different side of him, a side that might just be precisely what you’ve been missing in a time like that.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. PLEASE CHECK THEM.

Hotch’s P.O.V.

It was already past 4 p.m. when I managed to arrive home and the sight that greeted me, Y/N simply falling asleep in the middle of the kitchen, terrified me to no end. I watched as she fainted in the middle of the room and it felt like the world was coming to a stop as I ran to try to catch her.

The sound of her body falling to the floor and my stuff that I had dropped in my efforts to get to her must have dragged Jack out of his room, because in a minute he was there, watching with big eyes as I slowly rose to my feet with Y/N in my arms. I struggled to open the tap with one hand while still holding her body and threw some water on her face, in an effort to wake her up. It worked, and after a few minutes of carefully shaking her body, she opened her eyes to look at me.

The relief I felt didn’t last long, as I noticed how glassy they were. They couldn’t focus on me, but she still tried to push herself away and stand on her own two feet, while shaking her head to wake herself up. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” she quickly repeated, but before I could interrupt her and argue that she was anything but okay, Jack’s soft voice resonated through the room.

“Y/N, are you sick?” He asked, and it was clear by how his bottom lip trembled that he was terrified of what he was seeing. Frowning, I turned her around to look at her face and what stared back at me shook my very core.

There were black circles under her eyes, so dark that it looked like she had been punched. Her skin was almost transparent, and I could see her veins struggling to pump her blood. I felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dropped over me as I quickly recounted the steps her former superior had taught me about what to look for when she was in a state like that.

Moving quickly, I dragged her to the couch, where I also asked Jack to sit while I called his aunt, asking her to take him for the night. After everything was settled with Jessica, I got up to his room and packed his overnight bag, not really stopping to think about what I was doing. I was back in the living room just in time to talk to him before his aunt arrived.

“You’re gonna stay with Aunt Jessica tonight, okay, buddy?” Jack looked at me with tearful eyes that had been hiding on Y/N’s chest before I returned.

“Is Y/N going to be okay, dad?” I sighed, knowing I hated to lie to my kid, but it was what I needed to do at that moment.

“Of course, buddy. Now kiss her goodnight, I think I hear your aunt pulling into the driveway.” He did precisely that, hugging her tight before reminding her that they’d see each other again tomorrow. She nodded, her own eyes filled with tears as she kissed his forehead before letting him go.

I accompanied him outside, making sure that he got inside the car before going back to the living room, where Y/N was no longer in sight. I shouted for her name while making my way to the second floor of the house, my feet already taking me where I knew I’d find her. “Open the door, Y/N.” I shouted, knocking on her bathroom’s door. No one answered, but I knew she was there. “C’mon, open the door, Y/N.” Still nothing.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I moved inside the bathroom, absolutely terrified, trying to come up with a plan that would divert his anger from me once more. I wouldn’t survive being in the receiving end of another screaming match. I barely did the last time. Outside, I could still hear his fists against the wooden door.

“I swear to God, Y/N, I will tear this door down if you don’t open it right now,” he screamed. That woke me up from the paralyzing state I was in and I quickly opened it to find a hauntingly beautiful Hotchner looking down at me. His chest heaved as he stared me down, surprise written all over his features, like he didn’t believe I would actually answer his pleas. There was also fear in there, almost like he was scared of what he would see once I opened the door, but as much as I looked for it, there was no anger. He forcefully made his way inside the bathroom, closing the door as he looked around for something. Not finding anything, he focused his attention back on me and before I could realize what was going on, he was pulling up the dress I was wearing and leaving me only in my undergarments.

“Hotch?” I asked, trembling in fear of what the hell was going on. He must have realized it, because quickly he looked up at me, his eyes begging me for something I couldn’t understand. I nodded once before dropping the hands I had used in an effort to try and cover myself, relaxing as I allowed him to take in my semi-nude body. He didn’t even glance at my breasts, not throwing me a single look of desire, instead crouching in front of me as he softly ran his fingers on my thighs.

I tried to control the tremors that traveled my body as desire rose through me. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched me with such care. However, his touch quickly left my thighs to focus on my stomach instead, and just as he had done before, he carefully ran his fingers through the faded scars there. My breath hitched as I realized that he was looking for fresh cuts.

I had flashbacks of nights long ago, when someone else would do the same for me. I had no doubt he had taught Aaron about how to deal with me whenever I got like this. But still, he hadn’t looked at me like that. No one had ever looked at me like that, like they were terrified of losing me.

As the man in front of me realized I didn’t have new cuts, he finally got up, towering over me with unreadable eyes that could swallow me whole. “You didn’t…” He started, but didn’t finish. I shook my head, looking up at him tentatively.

“Not since I joined the team,” I explained. “You accepted me so easily, despite the weight that I could possibly put on you, that I decided that very first day I wouldn’t do anything that could make your job any more difficult than it already is.” My voice was barely over a whisper, but I knew that he could hear me. We were tightly pressed together in the tiny bathroom. He held my hands firmly in his as he shook his head and I watched in amazement as tears rolled down his eyes. “And then you introduced me to Jack.” I stopped for a bit, trying to gather my breath. He seemed like he was holding his, his attention never wavering as his eyes stared deep into mine. “I loved having the possibility of helping to shape his incredible mind.”

Hotch’s P.O.V.

I was all but trembling as I tried to control the sobs I wanted to let out as she continued to explain herself. “I loved how he reminded me of innocence and pure happiness and I loved being able to be a kid for the few hours I was with him. So I started coming here to stay with him whenever I felt the urge to hurt myself. Because it distracted me. And it reminded me of who I wished to be for him. The example I wanted to set. And it was not of someone who hurt herself.”

By the end of her speech I was full-on crying, like I didn’t remember doing ever since Haley died. I pulled her to me as I fell on the bathroom’s floor, using her to ground myself while I tried to calm down. Fuck. What the fuck had I done to this girl? She was nothing less than an angel, sent from heaven itself to remind me what it felt like to love someone so much that it blinded you, and still, I managed to hurt her.

I felt her fingers running through my short hair as I finally started to calm my breathing. I absentmindedly remembered she was practically naked on my lap, but still that didn’t faze me. Not if she was comfortable in my arms, because I felt comfortable with her in them.

I raised my head to look at her and found her beautiful eyes looking at me with such wonder that it took my breath away again. I didn’t stop to think as I leaned to connect her lips to mine, reveling in the tiny gasp of surprise she let out. Still, she didn’t stop me. Instead, I felt her melt against me, tiny mewls escaping her lips as my tongue slowly made its way inside her mouth.

She tasted like mint and strawberries and I was already addicted.

It took every single bit of control I had to disconnect myself from her lips, trying to gather my thoughts before calling her attention to me. “Y/N,” I whispered her name and she cautiously met my eyes, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. I leaned down once more only to free it through my own bite, before looking her in the eyes again.

“Y/N,” I repeated, and the amount of fear I found in her stare reminded me of what I needed to do in that moment. “Baby girl…” at the pet name, she seemed to relax, even if just for a bit. She adjusted herself on my lap, hiding her face in the crook of my neck, and I hugged her to me, not knowing how to approach the subject.

“I’m sorry,” I finally let out, caressing the skin on her back with my open palms, trying to scare away every goosebump that the cold raised in its touch. “I’m so, so sorry,” I repeated, knowing that I would never be able to actually apologize for what I had said. But I’d be a fool if I didn’t spend the rest of my life trying. “I can’t even begin to explain how wrong I was in every single thing I told you that day, but I had a crappy day, and it was the anniversary of Haley’s death and…”

She pushed away from me and shut my mouth with her tiny hands. “Stop, Aaron,” she pleaded. “I know you’re sorry. I knew what was going on. That’s why I came here in the first place. I wanted to be here for you, in any way you needed. And I may have overstepped some boundaries, I mean, God knows how much time I spend here, but next time, when you need to be alone, just ask me to leave. I promise I won’t be hurt or angry. I promise.”

Shaking my head and bringing her to rest her face on my shoulder again, I tried once more. “No, honey, you didn’t do anything wrong. I wanted you to be here. God, how I wanted you to be here. You have no idea how much happiness you bring me everytime I come home to find you here with Jack, and I’m sure he agrees with me.” I gulped, gathering strength to say what I was frankly ashamed to admit.

“I hope you won’t hate me too much for this, but the truth is that your presence had started to hurt me, because it reminded me of how much I wanted you, but couldn’t have you. Every time I see you, I’m reminded of our kiss. I’m reminded of how much I want to kiss you again.” My hand gently pulled her to look at me and I found my gaze trapped in those luscious lips that had been glued to mine just seconds before. I let my thumb play with her bottom one before continuing. “That’s not even true. I want to do so much more with you, to you. I want to kiss you all over. I want to make sure you never know a bad day in your life, which, considering what we do for a living, is laughable, even. And it just serves to cause me even more stress. Because all I want to do is protect you, Y/N.” She opened her mouth to speak, then, but I cut her off with a shake of my head. “No, just let me finish. Please. I need to say this.”

She closed her mouth, albeit she still looked like she wanted to intervene, turn my thoughts into a lighter shade, like she always did to everyone around her just by being her. I took a deep breath before continuing. “I know that I can’t. As much as I want to, I can’t be around you all the time and I can’t promise to keep the darkness away from you, not even the one inside of your own mind. But, what I’ve come to realize is…” She was crying too, by now, and I couldn’t stop myself from wiping her tears with as much delicacy as I possibly could. “... Is that I can try. And if I allow myself to just try, even if I come to fail, I will save both you and me from this pain that I am causing myself, forcing us apart from each other.” She looked down, avoiding my eyes at this, and I knew that I was right.

I sighed, pulling her to kiss her forehead before connecting hers to mine.

“I’m done, trying to resist you, Y/N Y/L/N. I am yours, body and soul and mental problems that you’re probably all too familiarised with.” That made her release a choked up laugh, which in turn made me smile. God, this woman had my heart. “I love you, Y/N,” I finally finished, itching to touch her, pull her to me, but knowing I had to give her the space to say what was on her mind now, too.

She was looking at me with a smile that could probably melt the whole of Alaska. Giggling, she pulled me by the collar of my shirt to press her lips on mine again. “I love you too, Aaron Hotchner.”

The feeling that overcame me at hearing these words was something I very rarely had the pleasure of visiting, so I allowed myself to close my eyes, pull her to me once more and just enjoy the beauty of the moment. A few more tears were shed, this time of happiness, and I let myself peck her delicious lips a few more times before finding the strengths to push us out of the floor.

“You should… You should probably put on some clothes,” I chuckled, scratching the back of my neck at her giggles. She quickly located her dress and pulled it over her head before turning back to me, adjusting her hair.

“Do I look okay now?” I shook my head.

“You never look okay. You always look beautiful,” I explained, leaning down to kiss her one last time. She smiled sweetly up at me, warming my heart to her yet again.

“It’s weird how I don’t find it weird to see this side of you,” she stated, already leaving the bathroom, with me hot in her tails.

“What do you mean?” I had a slight idea of what she was referring to, but I wanted to be sure.

“This.” She stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, turning around to stare up at me again. “This version of you. When you allow your sweetness to be seen, your caring side to be felt. At work, anyone who spends enough time with you catches glimpses of it, but I don’t think anyone has truly seen you when you don’t try to hide it anymore.” She was right. I could have laughed, taken by surprise, but the truth was that it wasn’t that unexpected. She really had a way of reading people - that’s what made her such a precious arrival to the team.

But it was like her abilities were enhanced when it came to me.

“I like this side of you,” she continued as she finally stepped into the kitchen, almost as if she was babbling without really noticing what she was doing. “But I also like the side of you that takes control of any crime scene we step into. Since that’s the one I’m most used with, I wasn’t expecting to be automatically so accustomed to the other one.”

I couldn’t help but to smile, happy to know she liked both sides of me. “You weren’t?” I asked, approaching her from behind as she perused my counters, pulling her by her hips to collide against me again.

“I… wasn’t,” she admitted, turning her neck to try and meet my eyes.

It was like I couldn’t control myself anymore. In a second, I had turned her around, hoisting her up on my kitchen counter, our lips connecting once again. That kiss was different from the other ones we had shared until now.

I was taken away by the pit of fire that had suddenly been lit inside of me, and I needed her, my oxygen, to keep it alive. My lips were eager, kissing her to the point of bruising, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she responded just in kind.

I felt her tongue beg for entrance on my lips and I surprised myself by the wantful moan that resonated from my chest. That only seemed to spur her on, and I felt her press her entire body against me, her legs coming up from behind to hold her against my body.

I welcomed the intrusion into my mouth, shivering as I realized she tasted like peppermint and home. It made its way inside of me until all I wanted was to drown in her warmth, and so I found myself pulling her even closer, like I wanted both of our bodies to become one.

I did.

But then, I felt her against me. Unconsciously or not, she had started to grind her lower body into what I had to admit to have turned into an almost completely hard length. Startled, I pulled away, carefully settling her back to the floor and keeping her away from me by my hands on her shoulders as I tried to recover my breath.

When I finally felt like I could look at her again and not burst at the sight, I found her looking up at me with a pout in her beautifully plump, red lips. Thankfully, she didn’t look hurt, although I could definitely see disappointment in her features.

Chuckling, I leaned down to deposit a sweet but quick kiss on her lips, still maintaining her at an arm's length. “I don’t want to do it like this. Not when you’re still recovering. I don’t want the memory of our first time to be tainted by the battle you’re still going through,” I explained, softly caressing her cheekbone, making sure she understood what I was saying. Her eyes softened at my words, and she granted me a nod. “Now, let’s go get some food in you.”

#my series #aaron hotchner reader

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bunnimew · 3 years

Text

Too Much, My Love

Fandom: Rise of the Guardians Pairing: Jack Frost/Pitch Black, Nicholas St. North/Krampus Tags: Humor, Fluff, The Talk, Embarrassment, Anxiety, Mild Angst, Krampus has better things to do than this, But North asked nicely so Rating: T Words: 2,545 Summary: North has some tips for Jack on how to date the enemy.

The thing is, Jack hadn't meant for anyone to know.

For @rotgbingo 2021: Dating The Boss On AO3 Here.

For @cynical-bonehead, who gave me the original idea to do this <3

“Jack.”

North’s warm, heavy hand settled on Jack’s shoulder and instantly filled the Guardian with dread. Normally his touch was a comfort, but combined with the tone of his voice and just that one word, his name… Jack pressed his lips together and fought the urge to run.

Whatever it was, North would be kind.

“Yes?”

“We must talk,” North said, sliding his hand down Jack’s back and steering him up the stairs toward the workshop. “It is time.”

This did not bode well. ...Actually, this bode perfectly neutral. Every time North took Jack to the workshop, it was for some serious topic of conversation delivered in North’s particular brand of intense, but it usually worked out okay for Jack. It would just be, you know, intense.

Jack took a breath and reminded himself that he hadn’t done anything to annoy North in at least a month and the man’s patience was near infinite so Jack had no reason to be concerned now.

Jack’s entire self pep-talk flew right out the window, along with his sense of how the world worked, when North opened the door to reveal who would be with them for today’s lecture.

He was tall. So tall. Distinctly reddish in hue, with a standing posture that filled Jack with foreboding just from the shape of it. North’s workshop was the absolute last place Jack expected to find Krampus.

How did he even get in here with horns that big?

North calmly closed the door behind them, and it never occured to Jack that Krampus might not have been invited. The only spirit, to Jack’s knowledge, to make it past the yetis was Pitch, and although Jack didn’t doubt Krampus could get in if he tried, the idea that he would choose to do it stealthily and wait patiently for them to discover him was not on brand.

Also, North didn’t immediately start yelling. That was a huge hint.

Krampus smiled and Jack took a step back. It was only half-voluntary.

“Hello Jackson.”

Wait. Jack’s brows came together and he took his step forward again. “That’s not my name”

Krampus’s whole face tilted, and Jack regretted his step all over again. “Are you sure?”

“...I was two seconds ago.”

“Jack!” North’s voice caught his attention and the tone was so relaxed and friendly that despite the horror in the corner, he felt his muscles loosen out of the knots they’d worked themselves into. “This is what we must talk about.”

Jack was so confused. “Is Krampus joining the Guardians?”

That was definitely a no, because both North and Krampus burst into laughter and Jack felt really stupid for the whole minute it took them to catch their breath.

“Then what?” he asked, irritation creeping up his shoulders at the fact he had to ask at all. Why was North leaving him to guess? More importantly, if North was bringing him here for a talk, why did it feel like Jack was being left out of a big joke?

“No no no,” North said with a shake of his head. His hand landed on Jack’s shoulder again, and this time it felt comforting and inclusive and instantly lowered Jack’s hackles down from high alert. “Is a good joke, Jack. Krampus is not Guardian. He is husband!”

Jack stared up at North, his brain refusing to comprehend. The room sort of darkened at the edges and Jack heard but didn’t really feel the crack in his voice when he asked, “What?”

North moved away from Jack and stood next to Krampus on the other side of the room. It helped—Jack suddenly felt like he could breathe again—but also hurt—what was North doing with a terrifying Anti-Santa spirit all the way over there?—and left Jack more uncertain than he’d been even when he outright rejected the words coming out of North’s mouth.

“We are husbands!” North said again, and at least Jack felt like he heard him this time. “This is how I know, and why I must be who talks to you.”

Jack… just did not understand. “About what?”

North looked at him with concerned eyes in a determinedly jovial face. Great, now they were both confused. “Pitch Black of course!”

Jack was always cold, so he was usually numb to it. Now, the unnatural chill of shock and fear dropped hard over his shoulders and settled heavily in his stomach. "What?"

North reached for Jack with one large hand, but they were standing too far away for him to reach. His smile dimmed as concern took a stronger hold of his features. "Jack? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, of course," he said on instinct. Why wouldn't he be alright? He couldn't feel his hands or feet right now and the workshop was looking a little gray around the edges, but Jack was fine.

North came closer still. He obviously didn't believe Jack. Jack wasn't sure Jack believed Jack. "You look pale."

"That's normal," Jack insisted. Which, it was, so… "Why do we need to talk about Pitch?"

North nodded, back bent in the sort of crouch one assumed when trying to convince a wild animal that you weren't dangerous. "You and him are dating, no?"

The chill flashed to heat in a bare second. Jack's entire head felt hot. "What? No. What?"

"It is okay," North assured, lips pulling into a tentative, calming smile. "I understand. You see? Because I am dating malicious spirit, too!"

Jack needed to sit down. There was a tabletop behind him. Jack sat on that.

He felt it when his hand knocked over a prototype toy plane on its way to his staff, and Jack considered that a good sign even if he didn't react to pick it up again. He leaned on his staff instead, and focused on breathing.

How did North know? They had been so careful, only meeting in deserted places or enclosed spaces. There should have been no way to find out. If North knew, did that mean…

Jack's head shot up. "Who else knows?"

"No one!" North said too quickly. Then, "probably Sandy."

Jack felt betrayal for all of two seconds before he realized Sandy could read dreams and… okay, yeah, that checked out.

"Who knows about you?" It felt fair to ask.

North nodded shortly. "Sandy."

Seemed legit.

Jack felt himself calming now that the initial shock had passed. North wasn't accusing him of anything. He really did seem to want nothing more than to talk about it.

"Okay…" The problem was, Jack still didn't know what there was to talk about. "So?"

"So!" North said with a flourish. Clearly he'd gotten his confidence back. "I want you to know you can talk to me!"

"About?"

"Pitch!" North leaned forward like he was telling Jack a secret, but the volume of his voice made secrets impossible. "Bad guys can be frustrating."

"Tell me about it," Jack deadpanned.

"Is that what I am?" Krampus said, instantly reminding Jack that he was actually going to be here for this whole conversation. "A bad guy?"

North grinned at him. Krampus might as well have been the only person in the room, by the way North was looking at him. Jack got the impression this was a running joke between them. "The baddest."

This was a side of North Jack hadn’t seen before. But why would he? This was North’s private life, and although Jack knew he was important to North, he wasn’t this kind of important to him.

Wait a second.

Jack’s hand landed hard on the tabletop in indignation. “I thought I was top of the naughty list?”

Krampus snorted a laugh and it was the most unsettling sound Jack had heard in a long time, but North’s eyes were back on Jack and his hand was waving dismissively in the air. “Different kind of naughty, Jack.”

“Augh!” Jack pressed both hands to his ears, then his eyes (which did nothing), then his ears again. “Is this how every kid feels when they think about their parents having sex?!”

Instead of the exhausted sort of patience Jack expected from such a display of childishness, North’s eyes grew large and wet with adoration. “You think of me like parent?”

Jack paused his dramatics to really look at North. Did the big guy really not know? Jack’s hands fell away from his ears as he said, “Yeah. Of course.”

The next thing he knew, North had Jack in a tight hug that was all warmth and excitement, with no room in between for things like doubt or air to breathe. Jack’s staff was somewhere on the floorboards behind him, but Jack’s feet weren’t on the ground to help him find it. Jack focused on holding onto North instead, and on the fact that North apparently hadn’t known the role Jack imagined for him in Jack’s life.

“I did not think you wanted parent, Jack,” North said without putting him down. His arms loosened a little, but that was as far away as North was letting him get for now. “Three hundred years is a little old for coddling,” he teased.

Jack laughed. He could admit the situation was a little strange, but they were spirits. They couldn’t help that. “You’ve still been around longer,” he pointed out.

North nodded in that sagely way he did and set Jack down on his perch. “Even better that I be the one to talk to you, then.”

Jack was going to wholly ignore that for as long as he could, because parental talks with their children about dating were never not horribly embarrassing for the kids. He leaned around North’s bulk to look Krampus dead in the eyes.

“I’m calling you Krampapa now.”

It was only fair. He was married to Jack’s dad, right? That’s how that worked.

Krampus didn’t look even mildly upset, which sort of mildly upset Jack, actually. He lifted his horned head in a regal yet foreboding way and simply said, “Acceptable.”

...Man really knew how to take the fun out of things, didn’t he? Jack was going to have to try harder.

After all, they were like family now.

North was beaming at the pair of them, and that made Jack feel better about everything instantly.

“About Pitch—”

Well, there went that.

A sudden cold wind in the workshop shut them up, and while Jack looked around to find the source, he noticed Krampus staring at a very specific spot, like he already knew what was coming. He probably did.

“Now,” a voice echoed hollowly off the wooden walls at the same moment that the lights dimmed in the workshop, and Jack knew instantly who it was. How could he not? “Why did you ask me here, Krampu—”

Pitch Black stopped short barely a second after materializing and stared with wide eyes at his audience full of Guardians.

He whirled on Krampus. “Is this a trap?!”

Unfortunately, Jack’s tone dead, “Yes,” coincided exactly with North’s empathic, “No!”

Pitch sized them up. Krampus wasn’t giving anything away, so Pitch had to make due with the easier targets in the room. Jack figured his defensive posture, curled half-behind North on the worktop, probably gave everything away.

He turned back to Krampus. “What is the meaning of this?”

“That I love my husband very much,” Krampus answered without missing a beat. His voice carried the boredom of a thousand years and the experience of just as long. “And that I would do anything for him, including subject myself to this.”

North was beaming again.

Pitch met Jack’s gaze.

“Explain.”

Jack pressed his lips together. Pitch wasn’t going to like this. “North is giving me The Talk.”

Pitch visibly winced and glared at Krampus. “And you brought me here for this?”

“Of course!” North boomed, arms thrown wide in the air in celebration. “It cannot be just one! Dating good guys can be frustrating, too!”

Krampus was nodding, but it looked like he was nodding to himself. “Some days.”

Pitch’s lip was pulling up into a snarl. The last thing Jack wanted was for him to lash out and make his relationship with the other Guardians even worse, so he slid down from the table and held his hands out placatingly. “Look, it’s okay. They mean well. Alright?”

Pitch didn’t look convinced, but the way North set a comforting and supportive hand on Jack’s shoulder and Krampus outright stared him down seemed to keep his behavior in check for now. He was going to be so grumpy later.

If Pitch managed to behave for this whole thing, Jack would owe him so many cuddles.

North seemed to take Pitch’s lack of retort as consent, because he slapped Jack on the back and loudly proclaimed, “First things first!”

He turned to face Jack and held his shoulders with both hands. “I have noticed in meetings. You react when Pitch Black is said. You should not.”

The hot feeling was returning to Jack’s face. His ears felt particularly on fire this time. “Am I really that obvious?”

North shrugged one shoulder, swaying his head back and forth as if to say ‘not really.’ However, Krampus behind him nodded resolutely. “Yes.”

North gave his husband a look. “Only if you know what to look for.” He smiled reassuringly at Jack and patted his shoulder. “I think Tooth and Bunny think it is to do with Tooth Palace and Easter Incident.”

Jack didn’t feel reassured at all.

“And you!” North said, spinning dramatically toward Pitch. “Work stays at work! You must let Jack be Guardian.” With a theatrical whirl, North turned on Jack. “And you must let him be Boogeyman!”

Pitch was taken aback. It was written all over his face. “But all you ever do is try to stop me.”

North’s hands came up in a very cut and dry sort of gesture, one hand slicing into the other with every word. “Work stays at work!” Then he pointed at Pitch. “When Jack is Guardian, he stops you. When Jack is boyfriend,” North lowered his hand and shrugged, “he does what he wants.”

“What about when I’m both?” Jack couldn’t help but ask.

North’s gaze softened immediately. “Dangerous to think, Jack. You want him to be happy, yes? Then you must let him be who he is.”

That was incredibly profound and Jack honestly hadn’t even considered it before. The shock he was feeling was written all over Pitch’s face when Jack locked eyes with him across the room. Jack did want him to be happy, and they had been working on compromises, but… overall, yeah. North’s words made sense.

"And now about making love!"

"Nope," Pitch said. The assembled group almost hadn't heard him though, because he’d dropped through the floor so fast.

That was his cue. Jack turned on his heel and took the opportunity to yeet himself through the open workshop window. "I'm out."

Left behind, North stared in stunned silence at the place where Jack had been. He eventually turned to Krampus, clearly confused. "Did I say something?"

Krampus took his own time to stare at his partner. North could be dangerously oblivious. It would be annoying if it were not so adorable. He patted North's hair comfortingly.

"Too much, My Love. Too much."

#TheBunni #RotGBingo #RotG Bingo #rotg #rise of the guardians #blackice #blackicerotg #blackice rotg #jack frost #krampus #nicholas st north #pitch black

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