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houseofperfecttaste · 2 years

Text

Nolan Holloway - Fuck Off

Warning: Smut.

Disclaimer: He is 18+. Happens senior year

To say that Nolan hated Liam Dunbar would be an understatement but he never showed it until Liam winked at you one day after scoring on Nolan during practice. Nolans jaw clenched so hard he thought his teeth were going to crack. Liam turned around to face Nolan as he was walking away putting his arms out to the side shrugging and saying "easy." Liam pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek looking Nolan up and down before laughing and glancing up at Y/N.

"How in the actual hell did you manage to pull her?"

"By not being a dick or a werewolf." Liam scoffed stepping forward wanting to start a fight but coach blew the whistle.

"Dunbar get your ass back in line." Coach yelled blowing his whistle again and Liam rolled his eyes running back into the line and Nolan took his place on the field glancing at Y/N to find her already staring at him a smile appearing on her face as she realized he was looking at her. 'I love you' Y/N mouthed forming a heart with her hands. Nolan smiled at her before turning his attention back to Garrett who was up next but after Liam saw what Y/N did he put his lacrosse stick in front of Garretts chest looking at him before turning his attention back to Nolan. He dug his cleat into the grass twisting his lacrosse stick in his hands and he picked up the ball running towards the goal Nolan moving in front of him to block him and Liam turned to fake him out but Nolan didn't fall for it and knocked Liam down to the ground hard.

Nolan chuckled smirking down at Liam and crouched down next to him.

"Don't waste your energy. You don't have a chance." Nolan shook his head shrugging and patting Liams shoulder standing up holding his hand out. Liam gave him a dirty look before taking Nolans hand standing up. "Don't get cocky Holloway."

Coach ended practice and Y/N was waiting next to Nolans car and Liam drove by stopping his car rolling his window down to talk to you. "Need a ride?" Liam shouted out to Y/N and she scoffed rolling her eyes and looking at the car next to her. "Obviously not."

Nolan left the field rolling his eyes when seeing Liam trying to drive Y/N home. Nolan walked over to the passengers window leaning down smiling at Liam. "Fuck off Dunbar." Nolan turned around opening the car door for Y/N closing the door walking over to his side waving goodbye at Liam getting in his car waiting for Liam to move. Liam huffed driving off as Y/N smiled at Nolan pulling him into a kiss as soon as he got into the car.

"I love you."

"I love you too. He really thinks he can steal you from me.” Nolan chuckled against Y/Ns lips as she smiled shaking her head. “Never. I’m yours.” “I know baby and I’m yours.” Nolan kissed her lips before driving back to his house. Nolan got into the shower and Y/N changed into one of his t shirts getting under the covers turning on the tv watching a few minutes of her favorite tv show before drifting off to sleep. Nolan got out of the shower drying off wrapping the towel around his waist walking back into his bedroom smiling to himself when seeing his girlfriend sleeping in his bed. Nolan pulled on his sweatpants climbing in pulling her close to him, he watched a few episodes before turning it off and drifting off to sleep. The next day Y/N woke up rubbing her eyes before opening her eyes seeing Nolan peacefully sleeping next to her his arm wrapped lazily around her waist. She flipped to face him placing her hand on his cheek caressing it and admiring him.

Nolan’s eyes fluttered open smiling lazily and pulling her closer resting his chin on top of her head and she snuggled closer running her nails up and down his back. “Cmon baby let’s get dressed for school.” Y/N sighed pulling away looking up at him kissing his lips standing up and putting on the extra pair of clothes she kept at Nolan’s. The extra pair of clothes consisted of a bra, panties, leggings, and one of Nolan’s sweatshirts. She picked his Beacon Hills lacrosse one that had his last name and number on the sleeve. She threw on her converse making Nolan’s bed as she waited for him to get out of the bathroom. She sat down on the edge scrolling through her phone as Nolan crept up behind her on the bed engulfing her tightly in his arms kissing her head as she took a picture a bright smile plastered on her face.

“I love your outfit today.” Nolan got off the bed moving to stand in front of her grabbing her hands making her stand up and grabbing his keys before grabbing their bags moving them away from Y/N when she tried to grab hers. Nolan opened the door for Y/N then placed the bags in the backseat closing her door as he walked to his side. He drove to the school opening Y/Ns door and walking her to her first class, she kissed his lips heading into class and seconds later Liam smirked looking at Nolan as he entered the same class sitting behind Y/N she rolled her eyes as he did so.

Liam tried to flirt with Y/N throughout the class but she paid no attention to it ignoring him and talking with her friends. When the bell rang Liam followed her to her locker leaning against the ones next to it looking at the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “You have the wrong number on your sleeve.” Liam flirted causing Y/N to laugh closing her locker. “Dunbar literally fuck off.” Nolan came up behind Y/N wrapping his arm around Y/Ns waist guiding her away from Liam and to her next class and Y/N giggled kissing his cheek.

During lunch Y/N was sitting with her friends and they were all talking their sex lives and how kinky it was while Y/N sat there just eating her food. “So Y/N what is the kinkiest thing Nolan has ever done?” Y/N sighed placing her fork down and looking at her friends. “Um he hasn’t done anything kinky to me he’s afraid of hurting me.” She admitted and low and behold Liam Dunbar was listening in a smirk playing on his lips when he heard. “It’s always soft sex but I wish he would just be super rough with me not worrying about hurting me. The sex is amazing but it’s vanilla.” Y/N looked over at Nolan who was talking Gabe as they left the lunch room getting ready for their next class.

Liam left lunch finding Nolan at his locker and he walked over leaning against the lockers smirking at Nolan who rolled his eyes not looking at him. “You know one of the advantages about being a werewolf Nolan? I can hear in on everyone’s conversation and heard your girlfriend saying something interesting.” Nolan raised an eyebrow closing his locker turning to look at Liam. “What was she saying?” “Oh nothing she was just saying how you’re vanilla in bed. So what was that about me not having a chance because it seems now that she needs someone who can satisfy her.” Nolan’s body was fueled with anger not at Y/N or what she said but that Liam has the satisfaction of knowing that about his and Y/Ns sex life.

Nolan walked away heading to his class his leg bouncing throughout the class as he thought about all the non-vanilla things he’s going to do to his girlfriend at the end of the day. At the end of the day Nolan left school seeing his girlfriend waiting by his car and Nolan placed his hands on her hips crashing his lips against hers roughly as he pushed her against his car. Y/Ns hands flew to his hair tugging on the ends making him moan slightly in her mouth. Nolan opened her door pushing her in gently then getting in placing his hand on the inside of my thigh squeezing it.

Y/N looked at Nolan with a confused look on her face. Nolan has never kissed her so roughly and right now he had a determined look on his face. “What’s up baby?” She trailed her nail down his arm looking up at him. “You’ll see.” He smirked not taking his eyes off the road and she studied his face before leaning back into her seat. When they headed inside Nolan pushed Y/N against the wall making out with her touching her everywhere. He picked her up bridal style carrying her up to his room placing her on his feet as he sat on the bed. He leaned back on his hands looking Y/N up and down.

“Strip.” Nolan demanded causing Y/Ns eyes to widen at his statement but she pulled the sweatshirt over her head and shimmied her pants down her legs disregarding her bra and panties leaving her completely bare in front of Nolan. His erection grew and he told Y/N to sit on his lap and she did her core rubbing against his clothed erection making her moan quietly. Nolan ran his hands over Y/Ns body nipping at the skin on her neck and collarbones leaving marks on her. Y/N was thrown onto the bed with Nolan getting up grabbing duct tape from a drawer and he climbed on top of Y/N taping her hands to the headboard.

“N-Nolan baby what are you doing?” Y/N looked up at her hands being tied together then back at Nolan who evilly smirked as he grabbed her legs taping them to the side of the bed her legs bent at the knee. Nolan trailed his finger down Y/Ns thigh as he watched her squirm trying to get out of the tape. He slapped the inside of her thigh making Y/N jump and Nolan rubbed the spot soothingly as she stopped squirming. He sat back on his calfs looking over his girlfriends naked body. "You look so pretty being tied up baby."

He laid down on his stomach adjusting himself between Y/Ns legs licking a small strip up her pussy making her shiver slightly then attaching his lips to her clit sucking harshly wrapping his arms around her thighs staring up at her as he kept sucking. Y/N moaned above him trying to break out of the tape wanting to pull on Nolan’s hair and pull him closer. He detached his lips from her clit reaching his hand out pinching her clit between his pointer and middle finger making her thighs jolt with each pinch. He ran his finger down her folds pushing it into her then pushing another finger into her making her moan loudly.

Nolan fingered her at a fast pace admiring how her face twisted in pleasure using his other hand to twist and pull at her nipples. He leaned down taking one in his mouth swirling his tongue around the nub flicking the other one with his thumb. Y/N bucked her hips as Nolan started tracing figure 8s on her clit. Her legs started to shake and Nolan pulled his fingers away making Y/N whine and beg for his fingers.

“God look at you begging to cum. You’re so pathetic.” Nolan let out a humiliating laugh wrapping his hand around her neck his grip tight making her moan. Seeing Nolan like this turned her on more than ever. He grazed her clit with his finger and watched her as she bit her lip lifting her hips up trying to get friction and he slapped her pussy before rubbing her clit harshly making her scream.

“Cum around my fingers baby. Be a good girl for daddy.” Nolan whispered in her ear Y/Ns body shaking as her orgasm washed over her her juices coating Nolan’s fingers her eyes fluttering open and closed. She lazily opened her eyes to see Nolan collecting all her juices and placing his fingers in front of her mouth.

“Suck.” Y/N opened her mouth her lips wrapping around his fingers swirling her tongue around his fingers moaning at the taste of herself. “Stick out your tongue let me taste you.” Nolan grabbed her face in his hands as she stuck out her tongue watching as Nolan ran his tongue across hers tasting her pussy from her tongue. Nolan pulled away running his hand down from her chest to her calf’s goosebumps rising on her skin. Nolan took his shirt off revealing his toned body and slide his pants and underwear down his legs grabbing his cock in his hands stroking it as he spread her wetness around her pussy.

“For fucks sake Nolan fuck me.” Y/N begged in a whiny tone and Nolan covered her mouth with his hand shaking his head at her. “You don’t get to fucking talk until I tell you too. I don’t even want to hear a single noise leave your mouth.” Nolan removed his hand pushing himself into Y/N moaning at how tight she was around him. He slide all the way out before slamming himself all the way into her making her bit her lip not wanting to make a noise it being so hard as he fucked her harder and faster making moans fall from her lips.

“Shut the fuck up.” Nolan covered her mouth continuing to fuck her as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Nolan smiled down at her submissive state. The pleasure was so much that her body was shaking slightly, she couldn’t keep her eyes open to look at him and when they were open they were begging for him to let her cum. Nolan pulled away at the last second denying her orgasm for a second time and Y/N thrashed against the bed whining once more incredibly frustrated. Nolan hovered over her an evil smirk on his face.

“Still think I’m vanilla love?” Y/Ns eyes widened as she started to stutter. “B-Baby I-I didn’t..” Nolan rolled his eyes as she embarrassingly tried to explain herself and he chuckled darkly taking the tape off flipping her over so her ass was in the air. He rubbed her ass before sending a slap to it causing her ass to jiggle. He spread her ass open as he pushed himself into her pussy grabbing her hips slamming into her from behind her arms reaching out in front of her to grab the headboard. Nolan grabbed her arms pinning them behind her back holding her up by her wrists.

“You’re in for a long night baby.” Nolan kissed her spine as he reached around her grabbing her tits in his hand rolling her nipples between his fingers. Vibrations of a phone caught their attention and it was Liam facetiming Y/N. “Answer it.” Nolan pushed the phone into her hands and she answered the call only showing half her face until Nolan fixed the phone so her whole face was showing and she was having a hard time staying quiet and keeping a straight face as Nolan pounded into her relentlessly from behind.

“If you’re not busy would you want to hang out sometime?” Nolan took the phone from Y/N Liam groaning out of annoyance as soon as he saw Nolan’s face take over the screen.

“Sorry Dunbar she can’t she’s too busy getting fucked.” Nolan smirked wrapping a fistful of Y/Ns hair around his hand pulling her up to his chest, her eyes closed in pleasure, mouth hanging open, sweet moans leaving her mouth. Nolan moved the phone so that Y/Ns face was in screen as he kissed her neck and Liam’s eyes widened as he saw Y/N in such a state.

“Doesn’t she look so pretty getting fucked? Her makeup all smudged, hair a mess, her lips red and swollen. You wish this was you making her look like this huh?” Nolan teased into the phone running his thumb over her bottom lip pulling it down gently before wrapping his hand around her neck from behind and making her look into the phone seeing Liam with a jealous look amusing Nolan. Y/N closed her eyes in pleasure leaning back into Nolan letting her head rest on his shoulder as he thrusted his cock faster into her.

"Nolan." Y/N breathed out her body shaking as she felt a warm feeling pooling in the pit of her stomach. "Louder." Nolan whispered in her ear as he rubbed her clit wanting her to scream his name so Liam knows who she belongs to. "Nolan." Y/N moaned out louder looking up at Nolan through hooded eyes as she tried to hold her orgasm in since Liam was still on the phone.

"Don't you dare hold in your cum, I want Liam to watch as I make you cum all over my cock like a good girl." Y/N screamed Nolans name as she came undone all over Nolans cock chanting his name as he worked her through her orgasm whispering praises in her ear.

"She's mine." Nolan smirked at Liam hanging up and wrapping his arms around her waist holding her up as his thrusts became sloppy and he came in her panting against her shoulder. "That. was. amazing." Y/N said between breaths causing Nolan to smile proudly.

"I'm not done with you." Y/N eyes widened and Nolan flipped them over so she was on top. "You're going to fucking ride me until I tell you to stop understood?" Y/N whimpered and nodded. "Do you understand?" Nolan asked again grabbing her throat. "Yes." Nolan smiled placing his hands behind his head watching as his girlfriend rolled her hips on him.

#nolan holloway #teen wolf #froy gutierrez #liam dunbar #dylan sprayberry

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winterscaptain · 3 years

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a horrible first.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: this takes place during rite of passage, where the unsub is the cop committing murder of undocumented immigrants crossing the border. we pick up right at the end, at the quasi-standoff in the desert. let me know what you think and i hope you enjoy it!!

words: 1.3k warnings: language, canon-typical violence and death, reader shoots and kills the unsub, mild dissociative symptoms following trauma, nothing too horribly graphic

summary: “the true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.” ― g.k. chesterton. au!march 2010

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

You brace yourself for a screaming stop in the SUV, immediately following Aaron to cover as Boyd flies out of the decrepit structure on an ATV, firing an automatic weapon of some kind.

You take a shot.

Time seems to slow as you watch Boyd go down, tzhe innocuous red dot in the middle of his forehead beginning to weep even before he hits the ground.

Derek fires his rifle from inside the car, but the deed is done. Boyd’s dead.

Aaron raises his head. If you had your wits about you, you’d see him counting off, making sure all of you are there. “You all right?”

“Yeah!” Morgan shouts as he leaves the car, but you’re stuck in place.

“No!” Emily immediately answers, turning on Derek. “Are you out of your mind? You blew out my eardrum.”

Aaron’s been there - the ringing is damn near unbearable.

“What did you want me to do? He was coming right at us!”

“I told you I had him.” She’s holding both hands over her ears, but you’re sure that’s not the only reason Derek’s raising his voice.

“He was shooting at us, Emily.”

“Well, you could have given me a heads-up!”

“The loaded MP-5 and the lunatic shooting at us wasn't enough? Come on.”

Aaron lets them bicker, but notices something odd.

You haven’t moved. You’re staring at Boyd’s body, your service weapon still in your shaking hand, your breath shallow.

He approaches you slowly from the side, extending a hand toward your gun. He says your name quietly, but you can’t hear him. He repeats himself and you startle as he gets a little closer.

He’s not as brave as you were when you pulled him off Foyet. He’s almost afraid to touch you, afraid you’ll hurt yourself or draw away from him.

The look on your face also scares him - it’s simultaneously blank and absolutely horrified. For a moment, he thinks back and realizes, with a little bit of shock, that he knows what it is.

You’ve never shot to kill before.

“Hey hey hey,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. He places a hand over the barrel of your gun. “Give that to me, okay?”

Another voice echoes in front of you. It’s Derek, who’s reached Boyd’s body. “Great shot, kid! Right between the eyes on a moving target. They teach you that at the academy?”

You let Aaron take your weapon from your hand, blinking a couple of times. He flips the safety and tucks it into his pants at his lower back, keeping his hands free.

Derek catches on, turning around and sobering.

Aaron can feel the rest of the unit creep up behind him, but he waves them off. They take a few steps back, watching with bated breath.

They all remember the first time they shot an unsub, their first kills in the field. A horrible, wretched first.

“Can you take a step back toward me?” Aaron asks.

You take a step back and trip, stumbling over your feet.

Aaron’s there to catch you under your arms, pulling you close. All at once, the levee breaks and you let out a sob, turning into him for refuge.

He closes his eyes and wraps around you. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You did the right thing. It’s okay.” He huffs, and it’s almost a laugh. “That was a really good shot.”

You clutch his vest, your arms locked around his waist. He keeps whispering to you as the crime scene techs arrive and start their work, shielding you with his body.

+++

You sleep on the plane home. Aaron sits across from you, working on the after-action report on your behalf. He looks up every couple of minutes as if he’s afraid you’ve disappeared in the time between his last check-in and that moment.

Derek, Spencer, and Emily watch him watch you.

“That sucks,” Emily says. “My first hit me hard, too, I think, but like… days later.”

Derek nods. “Yeah. It’s a shitty first, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I’m glad Hotch is over there. Probably the best person for this kind of thing.”

“Best person for the kid, too,” Dave says. Derek and Spencer frown.

Dave continues, clarifying, “Every one of us has someone we prefer when the day gets hard, whether we know it or not. Anchors, if you will. Good to have.” He looks over at the two of you again and doesn’t elaborate further.

You stir, and when you open your eyes, there’s a fresh glass of cold water next to you on the little side table. You take it gratefully, taking a couple of sips.

Aaron watches you orient yourself, check the time, and start your search for your report.

“I’ve got it here,” he says, offering it to you. “You have a bit more to do, and I have to keep your gun until all the paperwork goes through - protocol for use of lethal force with a firearm. It’s a simple review, no need to worry.”

You nod, taking it and thumbing through the extra pages in the back. You’ll probably ask Derek about the best way to fill them out.

Could ask Aaron, too.

Hotch.

Ask Hotch.

“How should I fill these out?

He takes a second, interrupting his own reply to stand and promptly plop himself in the seat beside you. “First things first - tell the truth. You did the right thing and nobody in their right mind will dispute that.”

“Thanks.”

The shadow of a smile passes across his face. “You’re lucky - this is cut and dry. Not all of us get a dirty cop on an ATV wielding an MP-5 for our first review.”

“Lucky?” You sound skeptical, at best.

His mouth quirks. “I know. Poor choice of words. You’ll probably have some rough nights. Do you want me to set up an appointment with the psychologist? The unit technically has one on retainer but -”

“You never use them because you’d rather hold all your emotions right there -” You poke his chest “- until you die?”

The little smile appears again. “You been listening to Haley again?”

“What, from beyond the grave? You bet. So, watch your ass, Hotchner.”

He shakes his head. “I’ll be sure to do that.” He sobers, his eyebrows pinching in an adorable look of concern. “But really, if you want…”

“That might be nice, actually. To talk to someone.”

“And you know you can always come to me, right?”

You nod. “Of course.”

The dull hum of the plane fills the silence between you for a little while.

“I was really scared, Hotch.”

He resumes his listening posture, leaning on his elbow with his fingers laced together.

“It all happened so slow - and so fast? - at the same time. I don’t know. He just… He went down and I was so afraid that he’d shot Derek or Emily I mean -” You take a breath. “I heard the gunfire behind me and the glass breaking and I just didn't want to turn around and find them dead you know?”

“Yeah,” Aaron whispers. “I know.”

“I was so stuck that I didn’t even realize Derek was talking to me - he was right in front of me and I couldn’t see him. And then I started thinking about Boyd and all that hate and…”

You trail off, unable to continue with any degree of coherency, so you ask a question instead.

“Is it always this hard? Does it get easier?”

Aaron wavers for a minute. “Yes and no. It’s never ideal - you know you’ve made a mistake when you have to use lethal force, but you get more confident about making the right call in those situations as you see more of them. You’ve been with us for two years - I’m - No.”

He stops and his brow crumples.

“I was going to say I’m surprised you made it this far, but I’m not. I’m impressed. And proud. It took a dirty cop on an ATV -”

“Wielding an MP-5?” You finish for him.

“Yeah. It took that much for you to pull your trigger with any lethal intent, and even then you didn’t want to. The entire way you were talking about a de-escalation strategy - don’t think I didn’t hear you.”

A flicker of warmth blossoms in your chest and maybe, just maybe, you feel a little better.

+++

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#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #tali talks cm #tali writes fanfiction #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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leewritesstuff · 3 years

Text

Keeping Up With The Hollands | 02

Summary: You and Tom were offered to document your life since you are both famous in the entertainment industry. Now as you got older you left the entertainment industry and head for the medical field. How difficult can it be? Also, did I mention that you have kids?

Previous | CHAPTER 02 | Next

Series Masterlist

VIDEO: The Return of Superman (Triplets Special)

WORDS: 3.0K

WARNING: [ narrator thoughts/edit ] , {scene switch/confession}

Was supposed to be uploaded yesterday but because Tumblr was being an ass, it deleted 2K OF THE FUCKING WORDS. Had to start over.

[ 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 + 1 (adult)]

Tom got off the bed and sat in the middle, watching his four boys sleep. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he leans down and gave each of the boys a kiss.

"They're angels when they're asleep, but once they get up its chaos.."

He heads straight to the kitchen to prepare their breakfast, wasting no time. He stood in front of the fridge trying to figure out what they could eat. He decided on simple eggs and sausage.

{switch}

In the other room, whines could be heard, Tom heard the noise and enters the room quietly, trying not to wake the others

"Pa, Pa!"

He picked up the boy, give his cheeks a kiss and head to the kitchen.

"Where is Maxton?" Tom asked making the child smile.

"Here"

{switch}

Maxton Rolland Holland: 27 months old

Youngest of the four

The shyiest but artistic one out of the group. Can always be found painting or drawing.

"Here, here I am. Pa"

Max notices the camera in the house, watching them with a curious gaze. He poked his father's back, trying to gain his attention.

"What's that?" He questions, Tom looks around and smiled at what he was pointing at. "Not sure bub, what do you think it is?"

"Dinosaur~"

Tom laughed at that, he put the boy down and watched as he runs to the camera, he watched as Max licked the camera, "Oi, don't lick that. It's not to eat"

Nodding towards his father, he went to poke it instead. Maxton was amazed by the camera.

[ There are so many dinosaurs...]

Max went to the other end of the room and played with the other set of 'dinosaurs'. When the camera moved, Maxton froze, wondering if he was seeing things. He was surprised. He carefully studies the 'dinosaur' He moved around and watched as the camera moves with him.

Feeling a bit scared, he goes to the joint kitchen, to stay with his father. He goes to his high chair and climbs on it. He watched as Tom prepares the food.

"You hungry?"

"Yes"

As Tom scrambles the egg, Max started singing, "Food, food, food, food~"

{switch}

Hearing Maxton's loud singing, Chase got up from his sleep. He sat on the bed, watching the room.

Chase Spencer Holland: 27 Months old

Eldest of the four

The most bold and athletic one out of the four.

Tom came into the room and picked him up, giving him a good morning kiss on his cheeks. "Chase is up"

He carried the boy to the living room watching as Maxton run past him. Chase grabbed the vacuum cleaner from the living room and handed it to his father, he jumped when Tom put it on.

"Let's catch Chase," Tom said as he ran around trying to catch the boy with the vacuum. The loud screams woke up Edward who was now standing by the fence. Realizing that no one is paying attention to him, he shakes up the fence making even more noise.

"Papa! Papa! Papa, open!" Tom quickly goes to the fence and open it, releasing the boy.

Edward Hunter Holland: 27 Months Old

The second child of the four.

The strongest and musical one.

He watched as Edward runs to the camera. Being the mischievous boy he is, he knocked on the camera lens.

"Hey, hey! No. Don't do that" He cheekily smiled at Tom then ran away.

{switch/confession}

"I'm really not sure how Y/N did it...it's only 7:30 and I'm tired"

{switch}

Hearing Tom's yell woke up the last sleeping child. Jacob walked quietly to the fence and stood there watching everyone playing.

Jacob Jaxton Holland: 27 months old

The third child of the four.

The outgoing one, always ready to talk to people.

He watched as his father ignores him and goes into the kitchen.

[ Someone notice me please... ]

Chase, while he was walking he notices his other brother behind the fence. He runs into the kitchen and grabs Tom's attention. He grabbed his hands and carried him to the fence.

"Ah, sorry. I told you to let me know if you're up okay?"

Tom grabbed his four children and carried them to the kitchen so that they could have their breakfast.

After eating, Tom tried brushing the boy's teeth, keyword tried. Maxton and Jake didn't like brushing their teeth. Tom had to lock Maxton between his legs, trapping the boy in order to brush his teeth.

When the boys were dressed, Tom heads into the kitchen to clean up the mess they had made. his room to change into his outwear. While he was doing that, Chase, Ed, Jake, and Max was in the other room playing with their toys. Chase and Jake were in the corner playing with the building blocks while Maxton was in the folding mat laying down. Edward, being the mischievous one, took the end of the mat and flipped it over, turning Maxton over. He then stands on top of the mat, crushing his brother.

Hearing Maxton cry, Tom enters the room and frowns at the scene. He grabbed Edward's hand and pulled him off of the mat, then with his free hand, he went to pick up the crying child.

"Ed, Ed. Stop picking on your little brother. Go hug him, now" Seeing that the boy didn't want to listen, he pushed the two boys together, trying to make them hug. That made Ed cry, not wanting to cooperate, Tom took him into the other room, excluding him from the playroom and put him in the corner.

"Listen. you can not be bullying your little brother. That's not what brothers do. You wouldn't like someone doing that to you right?"

"N-No..."

"Good, now I want you to go inside and say you're sorry" Nodding his head, Ed grabbed Tom's hand and they both head back to the playroom. Tom watched as Ed runs up to his brother and hugs him. Maxton being the soft one out of the four, returned the hug and kissed his brother.

Before closing the gate, Tom turned towards his sons and said. "Don't fight okay?"

Jake slide halfway on the slide while Chase pushed the toy slide, showing off how 'strong' he is. Maxton goes to the corner to play with the stuffed bears they had. Ed was in the corner, playing with the building blocks.

Chase climbs up on the steps of the slide and plays with the buttons on the walls. Jake noticing came and asked him what he was doing but he was ignored. His eyes widen when he saw that Chase was playing with the remote.

"Put it back" Ignoring his brother, Chase kept on playing with the remote. Having enough, Jake climbs the steps and grabs the remote from his brother. Not liking that, Chase grabbed it back which started an argument between the two. Ed watches the two play with the remote.

"You'll get hurt, put it back!" But Chase ignored his brother's second warning. Maxton came over, holding one of the stuffed toys in his hand, climbs the steps, and stood with his other two brothers.

"Bad boy. No no"

Feeling anxious at how quiet the room is, Tom went to check on them. When he saw what they were doing he yelled

"Hey, hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?" The three boys froze, not expecting their dad to come in. "You naughty boys!" Tom pushed back the slide to the corner of the room.

After putting on the other three hat's Tom was feeling frustrated with his second oldest. Ed thought his father was playing with him, so every time Tom would try to put the hat on his head, the boy would move, giggling. Having enough, Tom put the boy flat on the ground and strap him down, locking him, he raised the boy's head and slipped the hat on. Feeling satisfied, he got up, grabbed all of their hands, and headed out the door. They followed their father like little ducklings outside towards their vehicle.

Tom walks out of the house rolling the car train with, Chase, Ed, Jake, and Max on it. He sat on the bike and peddle his way.

"Wow, this is a good workout!" He exclaimed peddling around the neighborhood, he talked about the colours of the grass and the different types of cars.

Tom put all four of his kids in the toy train seats, in order of Chase, Ed, Jake then Max, then he put himself on the bike and peddles away.

As he peddles, he was showing them the different types of objects around the area. Everyone was mostly hearing the yells of Jake and Edward.

{confessions}

"Since I'm an actor and I would need to be um fit for the roles, I'd need to go to the gym, but I have four kids, and it would be difficult trying to take them to the gym, plus it isn't safe, so I had to find another method. This seems to be easier."

{switch}

Tom peddles quickly, feeling the breeze dry his sweaty forehead. He peddles by a bridge that's connected to the park, he slowly rolled up on the bridge then went down quickly, hearing the joyful screams coming from the back.

"Again! Again!" He turned and looked at Ed who had his hands in the air, smiling at the boy he turns around and peddles back on the bridge but this time feeling the pain, panting loudly. His action was gaining people's attention.

Soon they made it inside the park where the bathing fountain was located. He takes out three of the boys and removed their helmets, then handing them a ball to play with. A few fans walked up to him and asked if they could get an autograph.

Chase quickly takes the ball out of his brother, Jack's hand, and runs to the fountain, loving the feeling of the water on his back. Runs Ed and Jack following after.

When he takes out Maxton, he realizes that the boy's diapers were full, "Oh my god, seriously?" He holds the boy and grabbed the diaper bag and heads to the male's washroom.

While he was changing Maxton, Jake ended up wandering off on his own. Chase somehow removed his clothes and was bathing naked, Ed, who didn't want to get wet, came over, trying to sheld his brother's nudity from people.

While Jake was wondering, he ended up talking to a few people, making him laugh at how cheerful and energetic he was, but because of his socializing, he got himself lost.

"Pa?" He questions, he walks to a tent filled with people to see if he was there but got sad when he wasn't, he counties looking around for him.

Tom came out with his youngest son, he looked around as to where his other sons were. He found Chase and Ed together, he quickly grabbed the boy, trying to cover him. When he realized that one of his children was missing he started yelling. "Jake!"

The said boy heard his name and came running towards his father, he fell but got back up and kept running. Seeing his son running, Tom, (also holding Chase) ran to the child, he grabbed him and carry the two back to where they originally were.

He put Jake down who went by Max and started playing, he put Chase on his lap, trying to put on the boy's pants for him. "Keep your clothes on" Nodding his head, he gave his father a cheeky smile.

He put the boy down and took off his socks and shoes he went by Ed who was standing on the side, grabbed the boy and carried him to the fountain, realizing that his son was scared of the fountain, he tried his best to make him feel safe.

He goes and picks up, Chase, the trio were playing until Max came, wanting to be picked up as well, Tom feeling unsure, although he struggled, he picked up the three boys. Then Jake came to him, "You want a lift?"

Nodding his head, he made grabby hands at his dad. Feeling Chase move to his back, Tom picked up Jake amazing everyone around him, started taking pictures of the family.

After a while, it was time to change. Tom took off Maxton's shirt while he was doing that, he noticed that Jake wasn't there. "Jake! Jake!"

The camera switches to the boy, holding a ball running to the girl's washroom. He watched the girl's smiling at them, he smiled back. While changing Max, Chase decided to follow his little brother. They both entertain into the girl's washroom, smiling and talking to them.

Max was changed, then Tom quickly went and change Ed, after changing him, he straps the two on the train then heads off to find his other sons.

"Chase! Jake! God these two will get me old quick. Chase! Jake!"

When the two saw their dad running towards them, they went back into the girls' washroom but were stopped by one of the mothers. Tom thanked them and walked away with his sons, trying to change them as quickly as he can.

After having lunch in a restaurant Tom took his ducklings home and changed them for the evening. Night came and it was almost their bedtime. In the playroom, Tom took out a toy goal post

"Okay so this is a goal post, you kick the ball in it" Ed took the ball and push it in the goal post, screaming happily.

Tom chuckled at the boy's silliness, "No Ed, that's not how you do it bub"

[Tom tries to show them how to play football, for the first time]

He took the ball and ut his foot on it. "You don't use your hands, you use your feet, now look at daddy" Tom starts to dribble the ball "I'm dribbling the ball. Gosh, it's been a while." But he notices his sons weren't paying attention, instead, they were more paying with the goal post and spare ball. When he did try to get their attention, he tried to shoot in the goal post.

He failed.

The only one who really understood the game was Chase since he kicked the ball and it went in the goal post. He patted the boy on his head, then he watched as Max and Ed push the ball in the goal post.

Feeling tired, Tom laid on the ground trying to take a small rest, but that was soon ended when Ed throws himself on his dad's stomach. He covered his head when Jake went to sit on his face. "You guys are hurting daddy, he needs his face"

Feeling a bit annoyed, Jake and Ed went to the camera dinosaur.

[If you won't play with us the dinosaur will]

Max laid his body on Tom's chest, slowly falling asleep to the breathing of his heart. He got up slowly and put Max into his bed, he picked the other three boys from the ground and carried them to their room.

Tom goes to call his wife girlfriend on the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi love"

"How was it? Taking care of them I mean?"

"Ah it was decent, good actually"

"Tom..."

"Alright, so it was a bit difficult but we had a good day today, we went bike riding."

"Okay, is that all?"

"No, you know the park with the fountain? Chase seemed to love it too much. We gotta get that boy to keep his clothes on" You laughed at that, already imgaining Chase running around in public naked.

"Ed didn't like it at all, kept screaming. Jake made a few friends today. Maxton mostly made mud pies for me."

"Really? I expected Ed to be the one to love it, huh."

"I know. I was really shocked."

"Did you put the waterproof diapers on them?" Tom's eyes widen at that.

"What?"

"I bought waterproof diapers to use in the pool."

"That's a thing?!"

"Yes Tom, I told you this before. If you wanted to take them to the pool you could use-don't tell me you use regular diapers?!"

When you didn't hear anything you laughed at him, not surprised that Tom would do this.

"Okay well, next time use them. Hey, I have work for 7. I love you alright?"

"Love you too, sleep well, bye" He hangs up the phone and stared at the picture on his phone screen.

{confession}

"I'm honestly amazed at my wife. When we found out that she was having quadruplets, the doctor strongly suggested that it would be good for both my wife and the babies...if we let two of them go. It was hard. They said it would pressure her heart if she didn't. I couldn't tell her no but.. I didn't want to lose any of them. She said she was going full out, that she wasn't going to give up, so one day I came home, I think we had a month or so left and she was standing there crying. Full-on tears. So I asked her what's wrong and she goes 'It hurts to walk' So..."

Tom had tears in his eyes, he wiped them and continued "I had to pick her up. We cried together. In the car. She was in so much pain, her legs and face were swollen...so many unexpected things happen, I kept asking the nurses if she was going to be alright. They were born a few weeks later, they didn't need to go into this incubator. I'm so proud of my girlfriend. I hope later on I could call her Mrs. Holland" He let out a laugh and smiled at the camera.

T A G L I S T

@webmeupspiderdaddy @runawayolives @nerdy-collector-festival @hopelessromm @bi-lmg @speedyhandsbonkpalace

(If you see this then I couldn't tag you)

Want to be added? Then message me!

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland masterlist #masterlist #fanfiction #pregnant #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland #dad tom holland x reader

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fictionalabyss · 3 years

Text

Mated : You should be out there, somewhere, happy.

Pairings : Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam.

Word count : 4,130

Written for : @spnabobingo

Square : Motor oil / cut grass / gunpowder

Warning : Angst ahead! a/b/o dynamics, heat / rut, minor smut, possessive Dean, Dean doesn't think he deserves nice things, lonely Sam, hunting talked about, some fluff too.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

Part 2 of Mated.

SPN A/B/O Bingo Round 5 Masterlist.

Dean had had to leave Palo Alto the day after meeting him in the bar, and you had a feeling that had something to do with Sam. Dean had called, apologizing and mumbling something about work, but you assured him it was fine, that you understood. You’d be seeing him in a few days anyways.

Now here you were, the same motel room as every other time, sitting on the edge of the bed and waiting for him. He had shot you a quick text earlier saying he was about an hour or so away. You glanced down at your phone, checking to see if another had come through when you hear the engine outside and smile to yourself.

Putting the phone down, you barely had time to stand before the door burst open and you’re faced with Dean. There’s a sheen of sweat on his brow and his chest moves with heavy breaths. “You smell so fucking good.” He growls, shoving the door shut before surging forward to grab hold of you. His lips are on yours in a bruising kiss, and his body relaxes a little as it presses up against yours. “So fucking good.” he whispers, mouthing down to your jaw.

“Bet I taste better.” you tease with a smile, your fingers running through his hair.

“Oh, I know you do baby. Can’t fucking wait to taste it again.” You couldn’t help but giggle as his tongue ran up the length of your throat. “Get it all off before I tear through it like last time.” he breathed out heavily, his lips just leaving your skin as he started to yank off his jacket. “Need you so fucking bad.”

You smiled as you reached for his bulge, cupping it in your hand and giving him a squeeze. He was throbbing hard under that denim and you could feel slick pooling between your thighs at the thought of it soon being inside you. “I couldn’t tell.” you teased.

Dean growled, throwing his jacket aside. “Don’t tease me. I can smell you want me just as bad.” his hand cupped the back of your head and pulled you closer again, his lips latching onto your throat as he sucked and bit into it. “Get it off.” the rumble of his words vibrating against your throat making you whimper.

The two of you barely parted, both of you watching the other with parted lips and heavy breath as you scrambled to rid yourselves of the rest of your clothing. As soon as you were bare to him, he was on you again. His overheating body tight against yours, one hand cupping the back of your neck as his tongue invaded your mouth to seek out yours, while his other grabbed at your ass and tried to pull you closer, not that you could get any closer.

A step at a time, he moved you backwards until you felt the bed behind you. It took a coordination the two of you developed over the last year, but without breaking the kiss, without fully parting, you found yourself laying in the bed with him over you, his hands running down your thighs to your calves before wrapping them around his waist.

As he finally settled over you, he rutted against you, his cock sliding through slick soaked folds, and he groaned. “So fuckin’ wet for me.”

“Been wet since you told me your rut was coming.”

Dean chuckled as he nuzzled into your neck. “Just the thought of me fucking you gets you going, huh?.” You nod, bottom lip between your teeth and whimper when his hips rut forward again and you feel him slide the entire length of his cock along your clit. It’s covered in your slick, and so warm against you. “What a good little Omega.”

You smile at the praise as Dean’s hips pull back and he reaches down to line himself up. He teases you with the tip, prodding at your entrance but never pushing in, and you give him a frustrated whine as you try to pull him with your legs. “Come on, don’t tease me.” Dean chuckles again and pushes home, your lips fall open in a soft gasp.

“Did you miss me?” Dean smiles against your throat, and you nod. “Good. Because, baby, I’m going to fuck you senseless right now, I can’t hold back much longer, but afterwards,” he pressed a soft kiss under your ear. “I’m gonna make you feel really fucking good.”

“You always do, Alpha.” Dean growled at the title, hips pulling back then slammed them forward making you cry out.

It took Sam a bit, but he eventually managed to track down his brother. Dean had ditched him 3 days ago with barely a word. A simple note that said “I’ll be back” left on the motel room table, calls going right to voicemail. The car Sam had hotwired to get down here, he left parked in some back alley two blocks away, and he walked his way to the motel.

The Impala was parked right outside room 9, and a peek through the crack in the curtain confirmed that Dean was inside. Sam could see his bag on the bed, open. Heading for the door, Sam glanced around before trying the knob. Locked, which didn’t surprise him, so he got to work getting it unlocked. Didn’t take too long before he was stepping into the room, hearing the shower going in the bathroom.

Sam shut the door behind him, and glanced around. Dean wasn’t alone, that much was obvious, but it wasn’t just the items scattered around that confirmed it, it was the smell. The room reeked of rut and sex, and-

Sam froze.

He could smell fresh cut grass of an open field after a cool autumn rainfall. He knew that scent, he’d smelt it a thousand times and could pick it out of anything, even this room, overpowered by Dean's own scent. Motor oil, gunpowder, and his own fresh cut grass, though more like a hot summer day than a cool autumn. Slight difference, so slight most people might not notice but Sam knew both of these people really well.

Dean hadn’t just left, Dean went to you.

“Sammy?” Sam snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to see his brother, sweat pants low on his waist, hair wet and a few stray water droplets running down the side of his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, got a call for a case, I-”

“No. Not taking it.” Dean cut it right off and started for the bed.

“Dean, someone called in a favor, we can’t-”

“Can and will. I’m busy.”

“I already said yes.”

“Then you call back, and say you're sending in someone else.” Dean shot his little brother a glare. “How the fuck did you even get here?”

“Hotwired a car..” Sam’s words trailed off as he turned at the sound of the bathroom door opening and he saw you walking out, not yet seeing him as you towel dried your hair. But he saw you, so much of you. His brother’s t-shirt showed off the swell of your breasts perfectly, and likely brushed along the tops of your thighs but currently giving him a peek at the panties underneath since your arms were up drying your hair. A ghost of a smile on your face before you looked up and it faded when your eyes landed on him.

“Sam?”

“He’s leaving.” Dean practically growled.

“We have a job.” Sam countered, unable to take his eyes off of you. Yours were on him too, watching him as his eyes scanned over you once more.

Suddenly Dean was behind you, arm wrapped tight around your waist, pulling your back against him and a step farther from Sam, his growl loud and threatening and directed at his baby brother. “Fuck off, Sam, before you get hurt.” Dean threatened.

Sam was confused by the threat, his eyes shooting to Dean with a furrowed brow. “Dean, what the hell? Since when do you threaten me? Especially over some girl-” His eyes had shifted to you again, as he gestured, but another growl from Dean cut him off.

Dean’s grip on you got tighter, pulling you impossibly closer. He was possessive as all hell, and honestly, it was kind of a turn on. Sam just looked more confused. “He’s 3 days into his rut, Sam.” You informed him. “His rut is throwing me into my heat a week early, and you just walked into the room.”

“I’m his brother, I’d never-”

“You’re another Alpha. Do you think straight mid rut?” Sam seemed to stop and consider that for a moment. “If Dean had walked into your house when it was you and blondie-”

“You're not his mate.” Sam snapped, but calmed when he saw Dean’s lip curl back. “But I get what you’re saying.” His attention turned to his brother. “I’m sorry, okay? I’ll find someone else for the job.”

“Good.” Dean grumbled, glare still holding firm on Sam.

“I’ll get a room close by. If you need anything, just call me.” You gave Sam a small smile, letting him know you would if anything came up. “I’ll drop off dinner later, okay? I know how you sometimes forget to eat.”

“Thanks, Sammy. But you really need to go. Now.”

Sam nodded, sending you one last look before he left the room, the door closing quietly behind him. You breathed out a sigh of relief before turning to face Dean, who was still glaring at the door. “Hey.”

“Hm.”

“Look at me.” You cupped his cheek as he looked down at you. “He’s gone. It’s just you and me again. He wasn’t going to touch me, Dean.”

“You didn’t see how he was looking at you.”

“I did see it. It’s how I used to look at him.” you gave him a shrug. Dean growled, and you chuckled. “But now, it’s how I look at you.” you smiled fondly at him. “But I must say, I am tempted to call him back in here.”

“What!?”

“I like possessive Dean.” you teased with a wide grin, reaching up on your toes to nip at his chin.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” he growled. “I swear to god-”

“You’ll what?” you asked, pulling away from him and taking a few steps backwards. “What will you do, Alpha?” With a growl, Dean surged forward, scooping you up into his arms, his lips pressing to yours with bruising force. You couldn’t help but giggle. “Oh yeah, I like possessive Dean.”

When Dean opened his eyes, he couldn’t help but smile. You were still asleep in the bed next to him, and he let himself admire you unnoticed and uninterrupted. The way your hair was mussed, not just from the romp in the late night hours, but also from how you moved in your sleep. The breath that lightly fell from slightly parted lips, making your chest rise and fall. The softness of your face as you sleep safe and warm in his bed, not a worry in the world to be had.

He enjoyed these quiet little moments where he could just marvel in how beautiful you looked to him. His rut over, your heat finally died down. No biology dictating what happens. He liked this. It was just him, and you.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the intake of breath, not until there was someone looking back at him. “Morning.” you smiled, stretching your arms and legs, back arching before settling in again.

“Morning.”

“What? Did I drool?” you ask, wiping off your mouth with the back of your hand, and Dean just smiles even more and shakes his head.

“No. Just glad you’re here.”

“Where else would I be?” you chuckle softly and Dean shrugs.

“Living your life.”

“I am living it.” your eyes start searching his face. “What’s going on, Dean?”

“I just can’t believe an Omega like you isn’t mated yet. What is it? What’s stopping that? Is it you? Is it them?”

You chuckled softly and shook your head, looking up at the ceiling. “Honestly, I just never went looking for it. I wanted college, I wanted a fun and free life, I didn’t want to just be someone’s Omega, ya know?” you glanced at Dean, hoping to see understanding in his face. “I wanted to live for myself. Do what I wanted to do, so that’s what I did. And then…” you sighed.

“Sam?”

“Yeah.” the chuckle you let out that time was half scoff. “It crept up on me. Literally, one day he’s just Sam and the next… he’s Sam.” you sighed. “I realized I was in love with him, but.. He met her, and he was barely even my friend anymore.”

“But after that? After you left, after you headed home? Why me and not someone who wanted more?”

“I was hurt. Casual was easier to deal with at the time.”

Dean’s beautiful green eyes have been watching you, studying your face as you answer him. Taking in the words you say and how you’re saying them. “What about now? What if I stop calling?” Your eyes shoot to his and he can see something in them, something he didn’t expect. Worry.

“Do you regret me?”

“No, I don’t regret you.” Dean reaches over, fingers brushing over your cheek to try and soothe you. “But I regret keeping you.” The worry in your eyes changed to something else, something that made him need to explain. “You should be mated, sweetheart. You should be out there, somewhere, happy.”

“I am happy.”

“With someone who can make you happy.”

“You made me happy!” Dean sighed and got out of the bed, and you shot up, clutching the blanket to your chest as you sat there in the bed and watched him. “What the fuck, Dean?”

“You deserve more, you deserve a mate who can give you everything. A house, kids, happiness, the whole 9 fucking yards. All I got to give is a week in a shitty motel room once a month. That’s not a life, it’s not happiness.”

You swallowed, trying to keep as calm as you could. “I come because I want to, I come because I love being here with you.” your eyes, locking on his, not letting him turn away or shut you down, not until he heard you. “I know I can go look for more, Dean, I know full and damn well what this is, but I don’t. I don’t because this, right here, you and me, it makes me happy. Nothing else exists when I’m in here with you. It’s just us, and I like that. I look forward to you, Dean. When you text or call, it makes my fucking day because I know I make you smile too. You say it’s not enough, but it’s open, it’s honest, there’s no bullshit between us and for the first time in a long fucking time I feel wanted. I don’t have to beg for your time because you give it, even if it's just a text, you give it.”

Dean stood there quietly, eyes searching your face as he weighed those words.

“You make me happy, Dean. And I know I make you happy, too, so I don’t know why you’re doing this right now.”

With a sigh, Dean got back into bed, wrapping his arms around you as he pulled you down against him. “I’m sorry.” he mumbled, nuzzling himself into your neck. “I just get in my own head sometimes. I’m sorry. You’re just so fucking perfect, and I’m-”

“Perfect.” you assured him with a smile. “Perfect enough for me, anyways.” you corrected, before he could protest. “I promise you, Dean, if I’m ever unhappy, I’ll tell you. But I’m not. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

Dean buried his face deeper into your neck and breathed you in, letting your scent soothe him. “It’s so fucking hard not to claim you sometimes.” he muttered to himself, not meaning for you to hear him.

“Then why don’t you?” Dean froze and remained quiet for a while. You were about to pull back from him and ask again when he spoke.

“It doesn’t end well for us.”

“How do you know, we’ve never-”

“Winchesters, I mean. Mates, they.. they die.”

“Everyone dies.”

He shook his head, but didn’t pull it out of your neck. It was like he was afraid to. “They get killed. Killed for just being with us. Mom, Jess.. As shit as it is to say, I’m glad Sam hurt you because if he hadn’t, it would have been you who died in that fire.”

“What are you saying, Dean?”

“There’s something you don't know about us. A lot you don’t know about us.”

“Tell me.” Your voice was as quiet as a whisper, half afraid to hear, but needing to know. He was quiet again, but you gave him time, let him tell you at his own pace.

“It started with mom. She died in a fire, like Jess did. Exactly like Jess. Sam in bed, her in flames on the ceiling above him, me pulling him out before he burns too.”

“On the-”

“It wasn’t a house fire.. It was so much more.. Been hunting the fucking thing my whole life, it consumed my dad, it’s consuming Sam now. It’s what we do, we hunt. Sam tried to leave it, tried to do college, tried to have a mate and a life outside of this, but no one gets out, not alive. I’m scared. Every fucking time I meet up with you, I’m scared that I’m followed. I’m scared that I’ll leave and something else will walk in and you’ll stand no fucking chance..”

“Then teach me what I need to know.” At that, Dean pulled away. “Living your life in fear is not living, Dean. You’ll let it taint what we have, you’re already doing it. So teach me. Whatever it is that you do, whatever it is that you’re afraid will get me, prepare me so I have a fighting chance.”

“You’re serious?”

“I told you, Dean. You’re my happy.” Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Happiness is worth fighting for, so teach me to fight.” Dean nodded, letting his forehead rest against yours as he shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “And stop holding back. If you want to claim me, Dean, just ask.”

Dean pulled back. “But I thought-”

“How many times do I have to say that I’m happiest with you?”

The grin that spread over his face was the most beautiful one you’d ever seen. He pressed his lips to yours, soft, tender and loving. “I want to, I’ve wanted to for months.”

“I’ve been yours for months.” you answered with a smile.

It was a bit after 10 when Sam knocked on the motel room door with two bags of takeout in his hands. He waited patiently, not wanting to risk getting his head ripped off if he just walked in like the first time. He’d been dropping off a meal or two all week to be sure you were both eating, and this was how it went, he’d knock, the door would open, Dean would snatch the food and grumble a thanks before shutting the door in his face. It’s what he was expecting when the door opened.

“Hey, Sammy.”

“Hey.” Sam greeted his brother, and held out one of the bags.

“Is that Sam?” Sam heard you from inside. “Stop being mean to your brother, Dean, invite him in.” Sam cocked an eyebrow at that, but Dean just smiled.

“Would you like to join us?”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked cautiously.

“Wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t, Sammy.” Dean took the bag from his brother and walked away from the door, leaving it open as an invitation to Sam.

Sam weighed the options, join you and Dean for breakfast and be reminded of the best friend he’d lost and what his brother found in her, or go eat in his own room and be reminded of just how alone he was. Both options sucked. With a sigh, Sam stepped inside and shut the door.

Dean was taking out the containers from the bag when he glanced over and motioned for Sam to come in and sit. The table was small, only two chairs, one on either side, so Sam sat in the closest one, Dean dropping into the one opposite him.

The water in the bathroom turned off, and Sam glanced up from opening his breakfast container to see you come out with a smile. “Morning, Sam.”

“Morning.” he answered, taking you in. You were wearing a hoodie and sleep shorts, and he almost smiled to himself about how some things don’t change. He remembers countless times showing up at your dorm room to find you dressed like that, nose buried in a book. He could smell you, not as strong as last time, but you smelt different. The same, but something about it was different. It was so slight, but he chalked it up to the week you’d spent with Dean locked away in this room.

“Oh, he brought breakfast.” you grinned, happily making your way to the table. Sam was about to offer up his seat when Dean wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you onto his lap. You didn’t seem to care as Dean held on to you and ate with his free hand, just focused on getting your own breakfast container opened before reaching for the plastic fork that had come with it. “So where were we?” Sam furrowed his brow as Dean seemed to be thinking. “Ghosts?” you asked, fork coming up to your mouth and taking a bite.

“Hmm.” Dean nodded and swallowed. “Salt. You got a ghost problem, salt lines, salt circles, shoot ‘em with rocksalt.”

“Why is everything bothered by salt?”

“What is going on?” Sam looked between the two of you.

“I’m learning.” you smiled over at him between bites.

“Why?” Sam asked.

“Iron.” Dean added, ignoring his brother’s question. “Crowbar or fire poker, swing at ‘em. They won’t leave for good, but it’ll give you time to move.”

“Oh! Finally, a reason to buy one of those nice fake fireplace heater things.” You got a weird look from both of them and shrugged. “It’s going to be weird having a fire poker but no fireplace. People will think I’m crazy.” Dean just rolled his eyes and went back to his breakfast. “I suppose I could just say I collect them..”

“Shifters.” Dean continued. “Look human, but not human. Not fully.”

“Why are they called shifters?” You turned to look at Dean behind you, and that’s when Sam saw it, the mark at the base of your neck.

“Because they can shift to look like anyone. Oh! Hang on, I’ve got something for you.” Dean gave you a nudge, and you stood, letting him up and he hurried to his bag.

“You claimed her?!” Sam was stunned.

“Yeah, Sammy, I did.” Dean answered, digging through his bag. “We got a problem?”

Sam looked to you and you gave him a soft smile. “He makes me happy, Sam.”

Sam just looked away, looked down at his food and nodded. “Just be careful.” he mumbled, making you furrow your brow in confusion.

“Here.” You turned to Dean and found him holding a ring. “Silver.” he smiled, taking your hand and sliding it over your finger on your dominant hand. “If you touch someone, and they pull back like they were burned, run. So many things are hurt by silver.”

You gave him a nod, looking down at the plain silver band, then looked over at Sam who still wasn’t looking up at either of you. Dean sat back in his chair and pulled you back onto his lap so you can both continue eating.

“Now you know why I’m teaching her.” Sam looked up at that, meeting his brother's eyes. “She won’t end up like them.” Sam just nodded and looked back down at his meal. “Oh, and I’m going to have to teach you Latin.”

“Latin!?”

“Demons.” Sam piped up, but didn’t look up. As much as he hated this, he wasn’t going to let Dean’s decision lead you to your death as much as he could help it. “Exorcism is in Latin.”

“It’s going to be difficult, isn’t it?” you pouted.

“Oh yeah.” Dean chuckled. “But you’re smart, you’ll get it.”

“God I hope so..” you sighed.

“Speaking of demons..” Dean took a bite of bacon. “Salt.” he chuckled.

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging : Dean - @akshi8278 @adoptdontshoppets @evyiione @karikatz12481 @idksupernatural @deandreamernp

Sam - @evyiione @hoboal87

SPN - @sandlee44 @just-another-busy-fangirl @mrswhozeewhatsis @deanandsamsbitch @deans-baby-momma @thebescht @67-chevy-baby @supraveng @musiclovinchic93 @holyfuckloueh @ksgeekgirl @hobby27 @maddiepants @roxyspearing @onethirstyunicorn @fandom-princess-forevermore @kalesrebellion @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies

All tags - @sorenmarie87 @artemisthebadger @winchesterprincessbride @iflostreturntosteverogers @akfonkin @rebelminxy @foxyjwls007 @onethirstyunicorn @shaelyn102 @supernaturalenchanted @kazkingdom @babypink224221 @emoryhemsworth @ilovefanfic86 @pie-with-hunters @anaelsbrunette @lazinessisalliknow @feelmyroarrrr @letsdisneythings @cdwmtjb8 @notyourtypicalrose @xostephanie @ilovedeanspie @defenderrosetyler @amandamdiehl

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

Text

Preen

Okay, this is 4000 words of fluff dripping with so much sop, it is almost pure liquid. It doesn’t really go anywhere, and it refused to come to a neat ending. So yeah, FishTank with just a dash of Earth and Sky in the middle, all wrapped up in the Marks & Wings AU.

I was desperate to write some comfort and M&W is my go to for self indulgence, so that’s what we have. Blatant Virgil comfort fic :D

Many thanks to @janetm74 and @tsarinatorment for the read through and support, but I would also like to say a very big thank you to all of the Thunderfam who sent me so many kind well wishes on Monday. I’m feeling better and the writing muscles seem to be flexing okay at this point, so maybe, if you like Marks & Wings, please consider this a bit of a thank you fic. And for those of you who don’t find this AU to be your cup of tea, I hope I can write you something you like in the near future. ::hugs you all:: You are all so kind and amazing to me.

I hope you enjoy whatever this is ::extra hugs::

-o-o-o-

“Virg, let me do it?”

Virgil brushed his fingertips through the length of one of his black flight feathers. Its root twinged, both with irritation and the ache of bruising, but he found the grass seed responsible and a pair of fingernails scraped it out and dropped it onto the locker room floor.

The relief was wonderful.

Only a thousand or so more to go.

A sigh. “Do what?” He started working on the next grass seed. Honestly, grass was evil and he was ever so thankful there was very little of it on the Island.

“Preen your feathers.” Gordon was standing in his swim shorts watching Virgil poke at his wings. “I want to help.”

Another grass seed fell to the floor. “It wasn’t your fault, Fish.”

“You still saved my ass.” A hesitant and emotional breath. “I want to help you.”

Scott was usually the one who helped each brother preen. ‘Smotherhen’ was a very appropriate name when he had his feathers out. Virgil helped Scott when he had issues. But feathers were sensitive and preening a deeply personal thing, much like bathing.

And Gordon didn’t have feathers and didn’t know what it felt like.

“You know I help Allie sometimes.”

The honesty and concern in those russet eyes were ever so strong.

“Okay.”

The small smile that spread on Gordon’s face lit up his eyes.

Virgil ripped another grass seed from his plumage and bruises twinged. Ow. “Be gentle. There are a few...bruises.”

The smile disappeared. “Are you hurt?”

Virgil sighed. Gordon had managed to get all the rescuees onto the rescue rig, but an explosion had destabilised the building before he could jump off himself. The result had seen his fish brother pinwheeling towards hard concrete.

Virgil hadn’t hesitated, his wings out before thought. Launching off the rescue rig, he’d swooped through smoke and caught his little brother midair. But another explosion had thrown him off pace and the result was Virgil curled protectively around Gordon and tumbling through a field full of weeds.

And grass. So much ripe seeding grass.

So not only was he aching all over from a shitty landing that could have, but somehow didn’t, seriously broken something, his wings were also full of contaminants.

The flight home had been hell. Even hidden in his mark, they itched, irritated and tormented him.

To finally be home and able to attend to the mess was a relief in itself, but not so much as getting all those damned seeds out. If Scott had been here, there would have been a lecture, but so much help.

Eight metres of feathers was a lot to attend to.

But Scott was on Three with Alan, so it was just him and Gords, an equally caring but inexperienced brother.

Virgil stretched out his right wing. It groaned and complained, forcing a breath from him. “Just aching bruises. I’m fine, Gords. Honest. Getting these seeds out will help a lot.”

Gordon held up his hands. “Tell me what to do.”

So Virgil did. He guided his brother’s hands to a feather, pointed out the snag and showed him how to use his fingernails to brush it out, how to align the feather into its correct position, and outlined how he would wash them himself and work a light preening oil over them after his shower.

Gordon listened ever so attentively and Virgil had to admit, it was a relief to have another set of hands working through his feathers despite the ache.

Gordon, for all their brotherly ribbing, was ever so gentle when he wanted to be. Virgil had seen him caring for children and babies out in the field and he trusted him with so much. His feathers were nothing in comparison.

More grass seeds fell to the floor. They would be vacuumed up and destroyed lest they contaminate the Island which was why Virgil was doing this in the locker room rather than anywhere else. There were decontamination facilities here of multiple types.

“Sit down, Virgil. Let me do this.”

Virgil blinked. “It will get done faster if we both do it.”

“You need to rest. And don’t tell me otherwise, or I’ll grab the scanner and prove my point enough to call in Grandma.”

His shoulders dropped. “Gordon...”

“Sit down, bro.” A hand on his wing shoulder. “Please.” Gordon really knew how to throw those puppy eyes around. To top it off, Gordon grabbed an office chair and wheeled it in so Virgil didn’t have to sit on the hard bench.

The upholstery looked soft and inviting – a sign that Virgil was obviously desperate. It was only one of the many type chairs in the villa and nothing special.

He must be tired.

“Fine.” Virgil groaned as he took the chair and straddled it backwards, letting the back rest support his front while his wings had total freedom.

Gordon was right. That tumble of a landing had punched the wind out of him. It had been a shitty rescue to begin with. The fall had just topped it off.

Fortunately, Gordon was fine. Virgil had used that entire eight metres of feathers to wrap around and protect his brother, curling them up into a ball that rolled, shedding harmful momentum.

But there were scrapes and bent feathers and bruises.

So many bruises.

Virgil winced as Gordon tugged on one. “Sorry! A stubborn burr. It’s out now.”

Virgil closed his eyes. “Is fine.”

Gordon’s fingers gently moved between primaries, methodically examining and removing irritants.

It was quite nice to have someone else taking care of his feathers. Gordon’s touch caressed jangled nerves, untangled snags and lined up vanes one by one. The relief was palpable and relaxing.

Virgil sagged ever so slowly where he sat, his head falling onto his arms.

At some point he realised Gordon was humming. Just softly and a familiar tune. It took a solid few minutes for Virgil to connect the notes and come up with the composition he had created for Grandma’s last birthday.

Gordon had a good voice. He wasn’t ashamed to use it either. Unfortunately, his choice of repertoire left much to be desired. His best usually involved an ancient sea shanty, a genre his fish brother actively took an interest in. At his worst, it was something like the ‘I’m too sexy for this shirt’ song from last century.

His little brother had blown a few shirt buttons the last time he danced to that one. If he’d known that Alan would film it and send a copy to Lady Penelope, then perhaps he wouldn’t have danced so...exotically.

Alan was still suffering the fallout from that episode.

Lady P was still smiling.

Virgil couldn’t help smiling, too.

“Got something on your mind?” Gordon startled him. “When’s Tin due back?”

“Gordon...”

“What? I know you have a thing for our lovely security chief. Just asking.”

“Well, don’t.”

But even that poke in the ribs couldn’t disturb him that much. Gordon was doing a great job cleaning his feathers and Virgil lost himself in the sensation of being cared for.

Gordon must have realised that his brother had found peace because he didn’t say anything further, just hummed away as he worked.

Virgil ended up with his eyes closed, his shoulders relaxed and his wings drooping on the floor.

He was vaguely aware of Gordon sweeping up detritus and for a moment, he put enough energy in to lift his wings off the concrete properly.

“I think I’ve got most of them.” His brother brushed his fingers gently through feathers, skipping across his secondaries, up to his lesser coverts and onto the down that tracked over his shoulders and back.

Virgil shivered at his touch.

“Virg?”

He pushed himself up, staggering to his feet. “Gotta go wash.” Gordon grabbed him as he wobbled.

“You sure about that?”

“Will be more comfortable.” He had to remind himself that Gordon didn’t know. Or maybe he did. Virgil felt suddenly felt guilty for not having had such a discussion with his little brother in the past.

“I can understand that, but you’re dead on your feet.”

Virgil forced himself to stand up straighter and everything ached. He experimentally flapped his wings just a little. So much better.

But they were still dusty.

“A quick rinse and dry. That’s all.”

Gordon looked ready to go for that scanner again.

Virgil sighed, half folded his wings and headed for the specialised wet area designed for just this activity.

He closed the doors between his brother and himself.

“Virg?”

“I’m fine, Gordon. I won’t be long.” Something obviously had the fish worried. Virgil closed his eyes and let his wings droop. They were heavy.

He gave himself that moment, before shucking off his pants and throwing them in the laundry chute. Lifting his wings again, he walked to the wall, punched in a temperature and set the fine spray running.

Walking into the warm water was bliss.

He may have lost himself for a moment or two between soap and spray.

“Virg? You okay in there?”

He startled and realised he had been standing there, half asleep for he didn’t know how long.

But he was clean. Thank goodness. Soap had been applied to skin and water had washed the dust from his feathers.

This, of course, made them heavier, but only for a short time as he switched the spray off and activated the blow dry.

Warm air evaporated the moisture off his wings. He flapped them repeatedly and they complained. But the water fell and soon he was as dry as he could be.

With a sigh, he carefully folded his pinions and let them go.

As always, it was a rush of sensation as they disappeared and his centre of gravity shifted abruptly. So tired, he staggered to one knee with a groan.

So many bruises.

“Virg, goddamnit.” His brother was suddenly there.

It wasn’t a gasp. It wasn’t. Really. “You ever heard of knocking?”

Yellow light flickered over him and he groaned. “Gordon, I’m fine. Just need some sleep.” He pushed himself off the floor.

A towel was shoved into his stomach. “Put this on. We’re going to see Grandma.”

Virgil clutched at the towel. “Why?”

Gordon held up the readings on the medscanner. “You tell me.”

Virgil stared at the numbers and the diagram representing his body. “Just some bruising.” Perhaps some imbalances. Nothing sleep and a good meal couldn’t fix.

The thought of food turned his stomach over. Maybe just a drink.

“I’m fine, Gordon. Feathers were a bit messed up. Broke a couple and gained some bruises. There is nothing a simple painkiller and bed won’t fix.”

He wrapped the towel around his waist anyway and strode towards the doors.

“Virgil-“

“Gordon, please.”

“Didn’t you say you needed to oil your feathers?”

“I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“I could do it for you now.”

Virgil closed his eyes again. God, he was tired. “You can help me tomorrow. Now, I’m going to bed.” He shoved the doors open further and strode through. His uniform was still on the bench, but he’d stash that tomorrow as well.

Gordon hurried to catch up with him and followed him to his rooms.

“You’re stalking me, Gords. I’m going to get weirded out.”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror yet?”

“What? Why?”

He had been about to shed the towel and don his pyjama pants, but wasn’t used to the audience.

Gordon grabbed him gently by the elbow and led him over to his full-length mirror.

His reflection looked as tired as he felt. “What is your point, Gordon?”

His brother turned him side on, the black etching of his mark wrapping around his biceps and shoulder…was mottled.

Virgil twisted further around and found his mark to be a patchwork of red and blue up and down the length of his torso.

That explained the ow.

“I would really prefer Grandma to take a look, Virgil.”

“It’s just bruising.” No matter how spectacular.

“We fell from quite a height.”

Virgil looked over at his brother. “This is not your fault, Gords. You know that. A few bruises are nothing compared to your safety.”

“But what about your safety?”

“I’m fine.”

“Then why won’t you let Grandma have a look?”

“She doesn’t need to. There is nothing to look at.”

Gordon stared at him and something flickered in his eyes. “Fine. But I want you to let your wings out before you go to bed.”

Virgil blinked. “Why?” He had just let them go and that had hurt enough.

“I want to check to make sure all the burrs are gone.”

“We’ve already done that.”

“I want to give them another look, just to make sure.”

Virgil eyed him. “There is not enough room in here.” He gestured around his bedroom.

“Then we’ll go into the living room and set up a lounger.”

“So Grandma can accidentally find me there?” Virgil frowned at his brother.

“Nooooo.”

Virgil glared at him. He was up to something, he was sure of it. But Virgil didn’t have the energy to pursue it and honestly, he did trust Gordon. He knew enough to know that feathers were no joking matter.

Ever.

Not after the incident with Scott all those years ago.

That had not been funny at all.

And there was something in his brother’s eyes. Honest concern.

“Fine.”

“Good.”

Entering the living room, Virgil was surprised to find that it was evening and the sun was gilding the Island. A gentle breeze was blowing off the caldera and the birds on Mateo were warbling as they settled down for the evening.

Virgil stood on the balcony barefoot, shirtless and just let it soak in. The breeze ruffled his hair and caressed aching skin.

“Virg? Come lay down.”

He blinked and turned to find Gordon standing beside a lounger with a thick mattress and several pillows.

“Gordon, why are you doing this?”

“I want to help. You got hurt because of me. Please help me fix it, even just a little.”

“It was not your fault. Just a shitty rescue.”

“You’re in pain.”

“It’s nothing, Gords, honest.”

“Will you please just lift and lie down.” There was just a touch of warning in his little brother’s tone. Gordon had a streak of their father in him almost as much as Scott did.

Fine.

But Virgil glared anyway.

Before he could think about it too much, he hunched and lifted.

And Gordon had to catch him or he would have fallen. God, that hurt. Only bruising, but ow.

Gordon had caught him under his arms. “Virg? You with me?” Worried brown eyes peered up at him.

“I’m fine.” But it was rasped out. His wings were still folded and a mass of ache, dragging on the floor.

“C’mon, let’s get you lying down.”

Virgil grunted. The divan suddenly looked so much more inviting. The pillow was soft beneath his cheek as he finally lay down on his belly. He let out a breath and every aching muscle relaxed into the soft mattress. Where had his brother found it? It was heaven.

“Spread your wings for me, Virgil?”

He blinked, almost on the edge of sleep. “Mmm-hmm...”

“This is the last I’ll ask of you, I promise. Spread your wings and then you can sleep.”

Sleep.

Ever so stiff, his pinions ached and creaked as he unfolded and extended them out. Gentle hands caught his left wing and guided it down to a soft surface. Footsteps around him and his right wing was gently nudged to an equally soft landing.

A hand on his shoulder and a finger brushed hair out of his eyes.

Ever so quietly. “Sleep, big brother.”

Virgil let his wing shoulders relax and mumbled into his pillow.

Gordon snorted just softly and a moment later a light blanket was laid over his legs. “Your modesty is safe. Now sleep.”

Mmph.

But Gordon was running his fingers through the fine down on his shoulders and Virgil was too tired to resist.

He slipped away.

-o-o-o-

“He’s okay, Gordon.”

The voice was his beloved grandmother, whispering. “He has some bruising and a few electrolyte imbalances. He just needs rest and possibly a painkiller.”

“He won’t take them, you know that.” A shaky breath. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure, honey. What about you? You took the fall as well.”

“I’m good, Grandma.”

There was silence for a moment and Virgil drifted.

“He saved me.”

“You boys have a habit of doing that.”

“Grandma...”

“You fell. Your brothers can fly. Of course they are going to catch you.”

There was a muffled sound.

“Aww, honey, come here.” Shuffled footsteps. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“He’s hurt because of me.” There was a shake to Gordon’s voice that set off alarms in Virgil’s head. His little brother was hurting.

He shifted, attempting to shrug off the fog of sleep, but a small hand landed on his shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetie.” He had no idea if the words were addressed to him or to his little brother, but the hand brushed gently through his shoulder down and was ever so paralysing that he lost his fight with sleep again and drifted off.

-o-o-o-

Someone was tugging gently at one of his primaries.

The tugging nudged him into awareness, but then disappeared, leaving him floating in that lazy level just below full consciousness.

Fingers were combing ever so gently through his feathers.

One by one.

He was being looked after.

He wasn’t awake enough to protest, to resist the care being given. Not awake enough to feel guilt.

But enough to just enjoy being looked after, being cared for.

Being loved in the gentlest way possible.

Fingers combed through his secondaries and he let himself fall away.

-o-o-o-

“He’s okay, Scott. Grandma has checked him over, I promise. Just a mass of bruising.” Gordon’s voice was whispering again.

“He looks awful.” Alan’s honesty bounced around Virgil’s dopey brain.

“Shh. I know. Don’t wake him.”

A flicker of yellow light and Gordon sighed. “Don’t believe me, huh?”

“I believe you. I just need to check for myself.” Scott’s deeper rumble blossomed comfort in Virgil’s heart. His big brother was home. He would look after Gordy.

Virgil relaxed just that notch further.

-o-o-o-

Time passed.

It must have, because when Virgil finally woke up everything was quiet. Slow blinking revealed very early dawn barely lighting up the hardwood floor.

Slow neurons fired and eventually gave him the information he needed. He had fallen asleep before the sun went down. Gordy.

Gordy falling.

He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned.

“Gordon’s fine, Virgil.”

The words were quiet and calm.

He was laying on his belly and the barest of movements proved his wings were still out. Looking up he caught sight of his eldest brother sitting against the glass doors that led out onto the balcony. He blinked. They were closed.

Scott put down his glass of protein shake. He was dressed in his running outfit, but by the look of it, he hadn’t been out yet.

“How are you feeling?” His brother pushed himself off the floor and took the few steps across the hardwood to crouch down beside Virgil.

How was he feeling?

He had obviously slept in the same position all night and the smallest of movements let him know all about it.

Another groan gave him away as he let his forehead drop to the pillow again.

“That bad, huh?” A hand landed on his shoulder, fingers gently nudging the fine down of his trapezius. “Can you fold your wings?”

Virgil squeezed his eyes shut. Scott was right. Remove the weight of his wings and then attempt the rest.

Movement hurt. The next day was always the worst. Adrenalin gone, abused muscles stiff, bruises fully realised. He grit his teeth.

But this wasn’t the first time.

He lifted his wings off the pillows Gordon had piled there for him and with a groan that crept out between his teeth, he retracted his wings, folded them, and let them go.

All the breath in his body left with a whoosh and he collapsed back into the bed and closed his eyes.

“Better?”

Virgil’s muffled expletive said everything.

Scott snorted. “Okay. Hold that thought. I’ve got just the thing.”

A breath and Virgil let himself drift.

A gentle touch to his mark startled him.

“Hey, relax. Just a little preening oil. Gordon did your wings last night. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to rub a little on sore muscles.” And with that his brother started running gentle circles all over Virgil’s back. His mark tingled at the contact, but it was safe contact, welcome brotherly care.

Care.

The scent of the bathing oil wafted past his nostrils. Scott knew from his own experience where and what hurt in this situation.

Well, not perhaps this exact situation. Virgil couldn’t recall Scott catching Gordon midair before, but there had been that incident with Allie. Their little brother terrifying them all prematurely grey.

It had been Virgil who had administered the care to Scott that day.

Fingers nudged knots and movement into his muscles. It felt good and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

“Thanks, Scott.”

His brother didn’t stop his ministrations. “Anytime, Virg, you know that.”

There was silence for a while after that, Scott methodically and medically working to rub in the liniment. Virgil knew he should move, get up, find where Gordy was…but he found himself paralysed.

Scott knew exactly what he was doing.

Caring, smotherhen, big brother…

-o-o-o-

He must have fallen asleep again, because the next he knew the sun was high in the sky.

He blinked. Everything was quiet – a very unusual situation for the comms room.

Shaking off most of the fog, he pushed himself into a sitting position and was pleasantly surprised when the pain was minimal. It still hurt, but a good percentage of the stiffness was gone. His skin was ever so soft where his big brother had rubbed in oil.

Standing up proved a little more of a challenge, but he got there and worked several of his muscles until they loosened up.

He felt surprisingly good, despite the aches.

All he needed now was coffee.

He shuffled his way across the hardwood floor in his bare feet and down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Virg! You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

Virgil blinked and froze. Gordon, as usual, was far too full of energy first thing in the morning.

“Oh, hell. Coffee. You haven’t had your coffee yet. Sit down, I’ll get you some of your stim juice. Just a moment.”

Gordon started flapping around the kitchen.

Virgil stayed where he was and just stared.

What?

The smell of coffee was suddenly in the air and Virgil felt like floating on it like Pepe Le Pew on a waft of perfume.

“C’mon, Virg, sit down. Coffee’s nearly ready. Want some toast?”

Virgil was notoriously slow in the mornings, but even his morning fog brain could twig something wasn’t right. Gordon was always kind, but this?

“Gordon, what are you doing?”

“Getting you coffee. And breakfast, if you want it.”

His fish brother darted about the kitchen like a guppy swimming in caffeine.

“Gordon?”

“You want sugar?”

“Gordon.”

But his brother wasn’t stopping. With not enough brain cells to work out a different strategy, Virgil resorted to putting himself directly in his brother’s path and grabbing him. “Gordon, stop.”

“What? Why?”

Virgil sighed. It was all too much before coffee. He pulled his brother into a hug. A tight one.

“I’m okay, Gords.”

His brother’s response was muffled against Virgil’s shoulder. Gordon struggled against his hold, so Virgil let him go.

Gordon flung himself away. “Aaargh! You don’t have a shirt on, Virg. Bare skin much?” He stared at his hands. “And oily. Ergh.”

Virgil snorted. “Sorry.” He bit back a grin, but soon lost the fight and ended up chuckling at the expression on his little brother’s face.

Gordon screwed that face up in disgust. “That’s it, you can get your own coffee.”

“Will do.” He reached out and ruffled the fish’s hair.

Gordon batted him away. “Get’orff.”

Virgil sighed, smiling. “Thanks, Gords.”

The fish froze, staring. Something stirred in his eyes. “Anytime, Virg.” He swallowed. “Always.”

Virgil softened even more. “Same.”

They stared at each other a moment longer only for it to be broken by the chime of the coffee machine.

“Ooh, I dare not stand between you and your coffee.” He backed away and then around Virgil as if he was an explosive.

Virgil rolled his eyes and beelined for the coffee machine, because coffee. When he turned around, beverage of the gods in hand, Gordon was gone.

And the warmth in Virgil’s heart had nothing to do with the mug in his hand.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Scott Tracy #FishTank #comfort fic

42 notes · View notes

thelittlepoetprincess · 3 years

Text

ᴘᴏɪꜱᴏɴᴏᴜꜱ ʟᴏᴠᴇ [Dabi x Reader]

Author's Note: I personally am not a fan of Lizard king here but go off. This took a long ass time to write not to mention proofread and edit. No idea if I'm making another part to this. Also, a lot of this is therapy wagon material. If you want to be tagged in these just say so.

Warnings: Fluff for a bit, Implied depression, mild spoilers, light mental manipulation, degrading, power play, oral sex(F receiving), hate sex, death mentions, arson, and physical abuse.

Summary: You chose your job over Dabi, and then severely regret it once he survives.

The numbness of grief was overwhelming, even more so when the one you were grieving was your lover. You settled onto the sofa, watching the news drone on about the recent death of Villian Dabi, confirmed now to be Touya Todoroki. You'd turn off the TV and lie on your back, not needing the extraneous details of his death. After all, you killed him.

The memory of it haunted you like ghosts dancing in your memories: the heated warmth of his palms that threatened to burn you but never did, the way he always wore worn down leather or rough worn down jackets, everything about him attracted you and only made his death hit you harder.

You were a lesser-known hero with a restoration quirk, able to numb large areas and heal minor wounds while still using it in large quantities. You'd met Dabi while out on a mission to recover a kidnapped hero, and you couldn't keep your hands off his wounds. Not like he'd let you after he felt your gentle touch ease his pain for once.

Six months, it only took six months for the bad boy to entangle himself into your life. He snuck into your old apartment all the time, made you comfortable, and he'd break down in front of you. He was a surprisingly affectionate lover, despite his many flaws. You'd feel something in your throw blanket, shaking it loose to find the leather jacket he always wore.

The navy blue leather faded slightly and burnt in specific areas where he couldn't control his flames.

You felt the fresh hot tears welling up behind your eyes as you clutched the jacket to your chest. It was much larger than you since Dabi was slightly taller, so your face nuzzled into where his neck would be. It still smelled of cigarettes and burnt flesh, the scent you grew to love so much.

You took a deep inhale, the tears starting to flow as you replayed your shared memories, unable to help the grief overwhelming you. Suddenly, you had no energy nor will to do anything except sleep, even moving was deemed too much to handle. The scent of your boyfriend lulled you to sleep, though it'd be one of the last times it'd do so.

Dabi wrapped his hands around your waist before hoisting you high in the air while the wind blew at your hair in the flowy white lace dress you wore. The undetailed field of wildflowers went on far beyond your sight as he twirled you around before falling on his back with you. You'd both be laughing in the hazy daze of love before sharing a loving kiss as the gentle grass blades tickled your skin.

You felt a leathery hand touch the skin of your cheek, the thick smell of cigarette smoke tickling your nose and making you sneeze before you gently smacked away the hand. You hear a deep, raspy chuckle before the person mysteriously pulls the coat on you like a blanket.

"Little hero, do you love me?" You'd mumble a yes subconsciously, something saddeningly familiar about whoever it was looming over your sleeping form. "Ha, cute. . ." You heard something about leaving and the door shut with a click, leaving you to sleep once again.

Your peaceful sleep is dreadfully short as your friends came in, yanking you from the grasp of sleep with their tumultuous noise.

You quickly hid the jacket, sleepily rubbing at your eyes as they opened your curtains and turned on the TV. It droned on about the agency you worked at and fire. However, you didn't have the energy nor will to care since you planned on quitting anyway.

They droned on about how you'd slept for two days straight and needed to get out, and you agreed. Maybe it would take your mind off of Dabi and the arsenic incident, also the five missed calls from your agency from two days ago. You'd shower and change, pulling your hair back out of your face for the first time for days.

The curls were dry against your fingers so you oiled your hands and massaged them into the brown mass you called hair, plucking it out to its full shape. You pulled on the black and blue dress, noticing how the dress hugged your hips a bit then flowed out to your mid-thigh. Perhaps you've gained a bit of weight these past 2 months.

Tired bags were under your eyes from sleeping for so long. After some light makeup, you left with them to the carnival.

Lights illuminated the dark navy blue sky as you got dragged about, the fun temporarily blinding you from the sadness overwhelming you. They led you into the Maze of Mirrors, their bodies contorting and bending around you confusedly while you searched for them until they disappeared. Their goofy laughter faded into an eerie silence with only your echoing footsteps left to fill the silence. You froze as you smelled a familiar scent: burnt flesh and cigarette smoke.

His chuckles were all around you as you saw the flashes of black and navy blue in the mirrors before he was suddenly standing in front of you.

He was pissed, you knew that snarky glare anywhere. It made you nervous as he closed the distance between the two of you without speaking a word until he backed you against the cold glass. He gently pressed himself against you, giving you no real way to escape him with his arms on both sides of your head. "Dabi-" "Shh, I don't wanna hear it. At least not here, too many people. They're already looking for me since I disappeared. We aren't safe, come on." He didn't ask as he hoisted you over his shoulders to carry you out the back exit.

He seemed gentle while he carried you, he wasn't rough at all. The heat you felt radiating from his palms as he held said otherwise as you worriedly fretted about him burning a hole in your clothes. Though you felt some relief knowing he wasn't dead: he was your love after all. You knew what was coming to you for feeding him arsenic wasn't going to be a gentle, loving reunion of star-crossed lovers. Dabi wasn't that kind of guy.

He made it back to your new apartment after knocking out the security guard at the gate and threw you onto the bed. He'd seemed to get angrier as he got closer to your apartment. Your hair messily fell around your face to make a curly halo around it. He was on top of you before you could attempt to sit up, his warm breath huffing down the side of your neck.

"Now what the fuck were you thinking, huh? An arsenic cupcake? You really wanna get rid of me that badly you snake." He seethed, and you felt the familiar feeling of your wrists being burnt by his flames. You cry out in pain, squirming under his grip with tears in your eyes.

"Oh you're crying, now you're crying. How do you think I felt getting sick and finding out my girlfriend poisoned me?" He'd growl out, as you stopped squirming and sucked it up. He was right, you deserved this. You tried to kill him, and all he'd done was be beside you and attempt to be somewhat of a lover to you. You looked up to him, his blue eyes lacking any gentleness or affection. It was hate, resentment, and importantly: lust.

That's when it hit you that you were a stress reliever for him. Everything that he kept pent up he always let it out on you, and for about a month now he hasn't had it. You'd reach out, gently tracing your fingers along his scars using your quirk to calm him and watch his eyes soften as he quite literally melted under your touch. He'd land on top of you, caging you underneath him with his arms, he exhaled a strained snarl before snatching your hands from his skin.

You couldn't help wincing once you felt the familiar burning sensation of Dabi's quirk in action yet again as the blue flames licked against your skin, at least it wasn't a third-degree this time.

"It was you, wasn't it? My agency, they called then it went up in flames." He didn't answer but you knew the answer by the way he buried into the side of your neck. He always did that when you accused him and he was guilty. You'd chuckle to yourself but yelp when you felt his teeth against the soft skin of your neck, suckling your skin.

You'd squirm as a familiar heat settled itself in the pit of your stomach. He huffed as he finally moved away from the purple bruise he left on your skin. His lips trailed down until he reached your exposed collarbone, chuckling before tracing his hands against your caramel skin sending chills down your spine. He'd kiss, lovingly at that, along the caramel curve of your breasts.

He'd yank you to the edge of the bed, moving between your legs with a focused look in his glimmering eyes. "Dabi, are you mad at me?" He'd chuckle before you'd feel a burn against your thighs while sinking his teeth into the soft plushness of your inner thigh. "Oh darling, I'm fucking furious." The sweet name rolled off his tongue, making you quiver when paired with his teasing licks over your soaked panties.

He paid no attention to your face, his main focus being on the slickness accumulating from your dripping hole. His hands traced up over the stretch marks gently decorating your skin so beautifully before burning off the panties, his tongue grazing the soaked slit before sliding his tongue up to your neglected clit. His mouth was warm and wet against your sensitive bud, making it grow under his expert tongue his suckling sent waves of pleasure coursing through your entire body, and core. The entire room felt hot, and it wasn't helping wherever his hands traced left heated burn trails. You'd run your fingers into hair, yanking it to where his tongue pressed against your hole. "Dabi, please I want it. . ."

"Shut it, I'm still pissed at you." He'd yank your arms away again, pressing his tongue into your hole. Your flavor flooded his tongue, making him lick and devour you hungrily. Your eyes rolled back, your hips subconsciously bucking against his tongue as it buried into your wet hole. Ecstasy, that's all you could describe the feeling at this moment. The waves of heat that swallowed you and threatened to keep you at this moment while your climax built up in that tight ball. You panted like a bitch in heat, your legs trembling as your fingers intertwined in his black hair. "Dabi, I'm. . . .I'm-!"

"Shut up, loud-ass slut. Come if you wanna come so bad!"

He'd say before continuing to devour you, his tongue digging into your spot just enough to send you tottering over the edge in waves of heat. You'd throw your head back, sending your curls flying wildly behind you as you rode out your orgasm and Dabi's face. Your legs closed around his head like a vice, keeping his tongue in your hole while he drank you greedily. He moaned into your nether lips, finally able to pull away with an exasperated breath.

His lips and chin were a mess of your nectar and saliva, but a smirk was on his face now. He'd notice his jacket hidden poorly, but laugh as he moved to take it and pull it on. He'd once again hoist you over his shoulder, humming as he slid his fingers along the walls setting them ablaze. "Dabi-?! What are you doing?! My apartment!" "I let you have too much freedom last time, but don't worry. I'll make it so that I'm the only one you can lean on. Then you'll never leave again."

He'd laugh as he carried you away, ignoring your cries and pleas while the building went up in flames along with everything you'd known up until now. His sick, twisted laughter filled your ears before you felt a hard force against your head, the inky blackness flooding your senses and knocking you out.

#bnha dabi #mha dabi #dabi lemon #Dabi #dabi smut #dabi my hero academia #bnha #dabi x reader #dabi fluff

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Text

Oh, The Lies You Tell - Bakugou Katsuki - pt.8

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, trauma, abuse, betrayal, fluff, slice of life, smut, cursing, manipulation, possible spoilers, physical harm, 18+, MANGA SPOILERS

Ep. Warnings: ANGST, cursing, manga spoilers

Summary: it’s time for the battle competition! Or so the students of UA think. Just before the battle starts, a portal opens up and chaos is unleashed. Everything would’ve been fine if Dabi hadn’t exposed the truth.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

After the long drive, a break, mind-blowing sex, and another long drive, UA has finally made it to the battle competition! The students all marveled in their seats as they looked out the bus windows. The buses for all the schools were parked atop a cliff. The area the students would be participating in was below in and it was nothing but forests, valleys, mountains, rivers, and meadows for miles. This was a race and only the best school and best students will win.

“And welcome to the competition UA,” Aizawa tiredly said. The students all cheered as they exited the bus and stepped foot onto the soft grass. They felt the breeze blowing and felt ready to go. “There’s a building down that path, you can change into your costumes there and wait for further instruction. And Y/N, you won’t be able to be with Rumor on this, so I’ll watch him for the time being. See you all soon.”

The students were excited as they quickly scrambled down the path as Rumor went with Aizawa to wherever.

“Man, after all that time we’re finally here!” Kirishima said. “We’re definitely gonna kick some ass the second we step foot in there,”

“No shit, Shitty Hair. These losers don’t stand a chance,” Bakugou said with a malicious grin. They Bakusquad continued to walk and talk as Bakugou kept his arm around you but he once again noticed your unusual silence.

“Hey..princess, tell me what’s up?” He whispered with a concerned voice. You looked up to him as you snapped out of your haze and stared at him with loving eyes.

“I’m fine Suki...just nervous.” You said with a slight laugh to appear okay. Bakugou took your word for it but still held some concern as he felt somewhere in his heart that there was more to the story.

“About what? You’re one of the best fighters here, you don’t gotta worry about anything. You’ll do great out there Princess. Promise.” He said before he kissed your forehead to reassure you. You gave a nervous laugh as you continued to stare off into space. You were scared.

The league would be coming after you sent the coordinates. Your palms were sweaty and your throat felt dry as you got closer and closer to the assembly building. You wanted to cry so bad for so many reasons. You were lost, you didn’t want anybody to be hurt, you didn’t want the truth exposed....you didn’t want to leave UA...and you didn’t want to leave Bakugou.

Time passed and the others spoke of whatever. You wouldn’t know. You were too busy stressing over the villains upcoming arrival. Class 1-A walked in and took notice of all the schools in the building. Infront of the crowd was a stage and a podium. You felt Bakugou’s grip on you tighten and you laughed as you saw he was looking at all the boys staring at you. You loved your jealous little pomeranian.

Students mumbled and talked amongst each other until a man came up to the podium and addressed everyone.

“Hello students! Welcome to the battle competition, Olympus! Today, all you hero trainees will battle against other schools as you all race to the top of the mountain on the other side of the valley. When you reach the top, there will be people awaiting your arrival to bestow upon you the chalice of victory!” The students cheered at the news and got all riled up. They piped down once the man began to speak again.

“Here’s how this will work. Each class from every school will be given a certain location somewhere out in the field. Don’t worry, it’ll all be at an equal difficulty and distance from the finish line so there’s no advantage for anybody. Once you hear the gun go off, you will all run through the wild to get to the top. Maps will be passed out to each of you right now and along with that, a badge that each of you will get that will tell everyone what team/class you’re apart of and it will connect you and your teammates to one team. Now, classes MUST stick together and everyone must arrive at the same time. Along with the obstacles of nature, some of you will fall into certain traps. There are markings placed at random in the field and once a member of the class steps into it, you will wait until another class gets trapped and you shall battle. Winners get to move on and continue the race. The competition will last for 3 days and if you haven’t made it to the finish line by the morning of the 4th, you must remain where you are so that we can find you and track you by your badge. Everybody clear?”

Students cheered once more as a way of agreement and got ready. “Good. All of you will be directed to the changing areas. There’s over 4,000 stalls, gender is separated, and each student will be able to get their own changing area. Put on your hero costumes and head to your class’s assigned location. Good luck to you all.”

Students got rowdy as they all began to leave the room. You and the Bakusquad stayed and talked for a bit before you kissed Bakugou and left to put on your costume.

You got to your own stall and quickly changed. As you finished you looked in the mirror. You, a villain, dressed as a hero. Comical. But yet, you smiled at the new look. You felt that it really suited you. You snapped out of your gaze and went to the earring hidden in your bag.

“Hello? Can anyone hear me?” You whispered softly into the earring. A minute passed before Shigaraki answered.

“Tell me the coordinates.” You bit your lip in hesitation. Was this really what you wanted to do? You held a shaky breath as you spoke

“43.5647 to 12.8499.”

“See you soon.” And just like that, the call was over. You released a deep sigh in regret and anxiety as you gathered your things and walked to the given location. There you met with all your classmates and Bakugou. He welcomed you with open arms as he pulled you in for an embrace.

“Hey Princess. Everyone already discussed a plan so I’ll fill you in on the way,” He said after he pecked your forehead. Oh his sweet kisses. One of the things you’ll dearly miss when you have to go your separate ways.

“Hi....” Bakugou once again held a frown and concerned stare as your unusual behavior kicked back in. He held you tighter as he tilted your head up by your chin and gave you a loving kiss. He pressed his forehead against yours as your head was still tilted towards the sky.

“What’s wrong Y/N?...Please,” he begged. He knew something had been wrong for awhile and now he was desperate for an answer. You held your breath as you stared at him with sad eyes and a fallen jaw. You squeezed your E/C eyes shut as you shook your head to the ground and placed it against his chest.

“Katsuki, I have to tell you somethi-“

*BANG!*

That was it. The sound of the start of the race. Students began running to the forest and you sighed as you realized this was destiny trying to tell you to not go. You shook off your nerves as you looked towards Katsuki.

“It’s okay, you can tell me later. C’mon,” he said as he grabbed your hand and began to run but with the first step that you took, your eyes glowed and you didn’t see Katsuki or the competition anymore. It was bright and white and all you could see was Korra’s angry face as her eyes also glowed.

“TELL HIM THE TRUTH Y/N!” She yelled with the voices of all the other avatars. Your eyes filled with tears as they shut again and you shook your head.

“I can’t! I’m sorry!” You cried out.

“CHOOSE THE RIGHT PATH!”

“I-I can’t! I don’t know what to do anymore!”

“Y/N!”

...

“Y/N!......Y/N!” Bakugou said as he shook you. Out of nowhere your eyes glowed and you froze in your tracks. Bakugou stopped running when he didn’t feel you follow him and when he looked back he did everything he could to snap you out of your avatar state. After a minute you finally settled and your eyes returned back to normal. You fell into his arms as your groaned in exhaustion.

“Katsuki....?” You softly spoke out as he held you against his chest.

“Are you okay?! What’s wrong?!” He frantically asked. The competition completely left his mind as he shifted his everything to you.

“I’m...im fine. It was just..Korra. She..spoke to me.” You explained.

“Are you okay? Do you need to sit?” He offered as he attempted to walk you to a tree stump so you could rest but you stopped him.

“No, no it’s fine Katsuki....we have to do this competition..” you said with stern eyes.

“No Y/N, I think you shoul-“

“Katsuki.” He looked at you and noticed your serious tone and strong grip as you held onto his arms. “Please.”

“.....okay.” And so you both ran to catch up with your class. You strained and shook off your headache as you thought about your past choices. Fear bubbled up inside of you as you looked towards Katsuki. He seemed focused on the task at hand and so you followed. What you didn’t realize was that under his cool, composed cover, he was nervous. He wanted you to be okay, it was all he yearned for but he also wanted to give you whatever you desired so if going through with the stupid race was what you wanted, then your wish is his command.

You both finally caught up with the class and out of nowhere, a trap was sprung. Denki had stepped into a red zone and all of 1-A’s badges glowed as the ground crumbled beneath them and they all fell into some arena in a cavern. The students plopped onto the ground, some on top of each other, as they all coughed from the dust and examined the area.

“You okay Princess?” Bakugou asked.

“I’m fine Suki,” you reassured him.

“What the hell Dunce Face?! Why didn’t you watch where you were going?!” Bakugou screamed at the poor blonde.

“Cool it man,” Bakugou’s best friend had said as he hooked his arms under Bakugou’s to keep him from attacking the electric boy. “Kaminari didn’t know what the traps looked like. None of us did so it’s good that we can identify them now. All we have to do is wait for another class to fall into another trap so we can fight ‘em and win”

“We’re losing time! Now we have to wait for some dumbasses and if nobody shows up, we’re stuck here! Like losers!” Bakugou said as he huffed and plopped on his ass to the ground infront of Y/N as he placed his chin in his hand. Y/N placed her hands on his shoulders to calm him.

“Kirishima is right, there’s hundreds of kids here and nobody who hasn’t sprung a trap knows what they look like. Somebody is bound to fall down here soon,” you reassured your angry boyfriend. Some of the class settled until a few minutes later, a voice spoke up.

“That you are correct, little mouse. Your opponents are here, but it’s not who you’d be expecting.”

Your eyes shot forward as you recognized the voice.

“Oh no...” you whispered and took your hands off of Bakugou as you stood straight. Everyone turned towards you as they watched you tremble.

“Princess, are you okay?” Bakugou asked as he stood up and held your hands.

“She’s fine blondie. She just knows what’s coming like the smart little puppet she is,” Shigaraki said as he stepped out of the shadows. The class shook and stilled at his appearance and got into defensive positions. The rest of the league popped out of the shadows and the class looked in confusion as they spoke on their concerns.

“What they hell are they doing here?!”

“What’s going on?”

“Should we get help?” The class all asked aloud. You shook off your nerves as you took your hands out of Bakugou’s as he looked at you in worry. You clapped your hands as a gust of wind hit everyone to bring their attention onto you. It was silent as everyone watched you speak.

“..Where are the actual opponents? What did you do to the students?” You shakenly asked. Dabi smirked as he walked back into the shadows and then returned before tossing an unconscious body in front of the class. You quickly ran to him and used your water bending to check on his body and health. The water went all around the poor student until you stopped your movements. He’s dead.

“Heh..you should see the rest of the students, little mouse,” Dabi said as he walked to you and gripped your chin in his hands to make you face him. As he smirked at you, an explosion was sent his way but he jumped and dodged it.

“Get your hands off of her!” Bakugou screamed as he ran to you. He brought you back into his arms as you just stared at Dabi.

“It’s not her you should be protecting, hero,” Dabi hinted. You cringed at his words but Bakugou ignored them as he seethed out a question.

“What the hell do you bastards want?!” He asked and Shigaraki was the first to answer his question.

“Take a guess!” He said as he directed the league to attack. Toga was the first to move as she went towards the girls and attempted to sliced at them. Dabi followed as he sent flames to the ground, but Todoroki was quick and put them out with his ice. The two brothers stared at each other, one with a nonchalant determined face and the other with a cocky smirk.

It was here and now. The attack was happening and it was happening to your class right now. All the students sprung into action as they fought villains, multiple students vs single villains. Sadly, the class were the ones struggling. Bakugou fought at Dabi as he pushed Todoroki away.

“Pick someone else IcyHot! I want this Bastard to myself!” The blonde said before he pounced to the fiery villain. Todoroki shifted as he and Midoriya worked at Shigaraki and you stood in pain at all the violence. You heard screams of pain from your classmates and you felt your own heart breaking. Due to your out of zone state, you couldn’t sense the blue flames coming your way until Bakugou screamed your name.

“Y/N! This isn’t the time for your daydreams! Get your head in the game!” He said. Delivery was a little harsh, but necessary. You quickly snapped out of it as you bended Dabi’s flames away.

“Poor little Y/N. Always a burden, always a bother.” Those words rung in your ears as you advanced towards Dabi. As you jumped mid-air, it was like time slowed down as Dabi’s eyes had slanted as he stared you down. “You sure you wanna do that...little mouse?”

His tone, cold, and your eyes widen in fear. The name, the way he spoke. It was the same voice and degrading name he used when he would attack you as a punishment. You quickly stopped your attack and stared infront of him. You looked up at him in fear as he smirked down at you. You may have changed the slightest bit but you were still a submissive little punching bag to the league. As you both held a staring match, one in fear and one in power, Bakugou blasted Dabi away from you. The black haired man groaned in pain as he felt the burn of the explosion and watched from a distance as Bakugou ran to guard you.

“Are you okay, Princess?” He asked you while he still watched Dabi in caution. You nodded your head and gave a “mhm,” as a reply as you both watched Dabi get up. He and Bakugou jumped at each other as they fought. Bakugou threw punch after punch as Dabi dodged each one while he spoke.

“Princess, Huh? *dodge* Never knew you were into villains Katsuki,” Dabi said as he dodged again.

“Shut up! You don’t know shit! That was her past!” Bakugou screamed as he continued to attack.

“Past?! *dodge* HA! You think your little Princess is an ex-con?!” He laughed in Bakugou’s face.

“She did what she had to!” Bakugou screamed once more. He swung again but Dabi caught his fist this time.

“Really? I didn’t know robbing banks, murdering people, and joining the League of Villains counted as survival,” Dabi said in his face. Bakugou face sprouted a confused look as Dabi threw him back.

“What?” Bakugou seethed threw grinded teeth. Your heart began to race as Dabi continued to talk.

“You don’t know Y/N at all Katsuki.” Dabi said as he gave you the side eye and watched your fearful and angry gaze.

“Stop talking Dabi,” you quietly said, however Dabi still heard. Including Bakugou.

“Your precious little Princess is on our side, hero. She’s a villain. And not just any villain. She’s the best of the best when it comes to the girls.” Bakugou shook his head in anger as he ran back to Dabi and threw punch after punch and kick after kick.

“SHUT UP!” He screamed at the villain but Dabi just dodged and continued. Bakugou was so confused and so angered that his emotions took control. His fighting faultered and Dabi had the upper hand as he attacked Bakugou and threw him into a small boulder. Bakugou groaned as he sat exhausted against the rock. He breathed heavily as he watched Dabi walk to Y/N, take her hand, walk closer to Bakugou, and wrap his arm over her shoulder. “GET AWAY FROM HER YOU FUCKING BASTARD!”

“Heh...do you wanna tell him or should I, Princess?” Dabi asked as he mocked the nickname Bakugou gave you. Your eyes teared as your breath became jagged and you looked towards Bakugou. Katsuki noticed how you didn’t remove Dabi’s arm and just stayed silent.

“Y/N?” He whimpered out as he looked at you for some sort of answer. What the hell was Dabi talking about? Grand theft? Murder? Joining the league? He needs an answer. Bakugou watched you swallow down a nervous breath as you hesitantly spoke.

“Katsuki.....I’m Titania....and...I..I’m a part of the League.” You said with a quivering lip. Bakugou’s eyes went wide as he felt his entire world shatter. The girl he fell in love with and gave his entire being to was an undercover villain. He felt tears stinging his eyes as he spoke.

“W-what?” He questioned. Dabi groaned aloud in annoyance as he threw his head back dramatically and continued the talk.

“Your little girlfriend here is a villain. In fact..this whole attack was her plan,” Dabi smirked out. Bakugou watched you as you kept your head down with a shadow casting over your face. An obvious frown adorned your lips. The lips that Bakugou had kissed a thousand times over and they belonged to the most heinous female villain. Bakugou dropped his head down as his eyes stayed open in shock. He felt a panic attack coming onto him as his breaths got heavier and he freaked out.

‘This can’t be true....She loves me! She would never....she could never do this! It’s Y/N! She’s...She can’t be a villain! She would never lie to me like this...’ Bakugou’s thoughts became too much so he screamed as he got up and ran to attack the both of you. He jumped into the air and released an explosion to the both of you but you both had dodged. When Bakugou dropped back to the ground he quickly ran to you and tackled you to the ground. He pinned you down as he hovered over you trying to scan your face for some sort of reasonable answer or explanation.

“Y/N!” He screamed in your face as he shook with tears falling from his ruby eyes. He watched as your lips continued to whimper and the shadow over your face remained. Dabi used his fire to send an attack towards you both and instead of burning you both, it stung as it pushed you both away. The two of you fell down a tunnel. You both held onto each other as you guys tumbled down a tunnel. When you both hit the ground again, you realized you ended up in a cave away from the fighting. Ahead of you was an opening to the outside world. You continued to lay on the ground as Bakugou stayed atop of you as he cried and whimpered into your shoulder. You gently pushed him off of you as you stood and tried to walk to the exit, but before you’d could take a step, Bakugou quickly grabbed onto your wrist.

You looked down at him with sad eyes as you watched him keep his head down as fat tears dropped from his eyes. He stayed on the ground, seated on his knees as he cried.

“Please tell me it isn’t true, Princess..” he whispered. You felt tears invade your own eyes as you squeezed them shut. You both stayed like that for awhile as you released silent tears.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered as you tried to help Bakugou stand but once he got to his feet he gripped your shoulders.

“Tell me everything! ...NOW!” He screamed with his eyes open and full of tears. You stared at him with an apologetic face as you shook your head.

“We have to go Katsuki, we have to get help.” Bakugou shook his head ‘no’ but allowed you to drag him out of the cave and into the opening. It was getting late and the evening had already started as the blue sky darkened a bit. You stomped your foot into the ground to use your earth bending to figure out exactly where you both were. Once you felt the vibrations, you realized you were too far to even locate the others or even the competition grounds. You guys were lost.

“We’re too far away from everything Katsuki. We should look around a bit and see if we can find our way back.” Bakugou held onto your wrist before you walked again.

“You owe me an explanation when all of this is over, Y/N.” He quietly said with a sad tone.

“...I owe you a lot more than that Katsuki. But I will be giving you an explanation...and with how far we are away from everyone, I might have time to give it to you sooner than you think.” You explained. You and Bakugou walked on with heavy hearts but the both of you both had the exact same question ringing in your minds.

‘What are we now?’

—

You both walked for miles and yet you still got nowhere. Everytime you stopped and checked to see where you guys were, it felt like you guys just got farther away from everyone. You silently begged for Rumor to just find you and regretted not having him just shrink down to a mouse to carry around.

Bakugou trailed behind you. His crying had gone on for some time but eventually stopped, however when it did, his sadness was replaced with anger. He was pissed. He doesn’t know where he was, what he’s doing, what’s going on, and he doesn’t even know who he’s with right now. He’s basically with a stranger at the moment.

Eventually, it grew dark and the sun had set while the moon had began to rise. While you continued to look for a way back, Bakugou was aware of his surroundings and stopped you by grabbing onto your arm.

“Stop walking, moron. Can’t you see it’s dark?” He said as he looked at you with a bored expression. You turned back and scoffed at him in disbelief.

“We’re lost. We have no idea where we are and have no idea how to get back. If we stop now, we’ll lose time and it’ll take forever to get back. And who knows what’s happening now to our classmates?!” You exclaimed. Bakugou shook his head at you when you finished.

“They’re my classmates. Not yours,” truthfully, saying that broke him a bit, but he had to continue, “and if we keep going, we’ll die out here in the wild. We should find a safe place to sleep for the night and find some fire wood to keep warm. Maybe get some food to fight off hunger.”

“We’ll be fine if we keep going. I’ve survived the streets before, we’ll be okay.” You said and attempted to walk again but Bakugou held you back.

“Well this isn’t the streets Y/N. There isn’t a store full of food we can rob when we’re hungry and there isn’t an overhead tunnel at every turn that we can sleep in. This is a forest. So just shut up and listen to me.” He said, his grip on your arm slightly getting tighter. You winced the tiniest bit and Bakugou saw as he quickly took his hand off your arm. He cringed at his action but shook off the bad thoughts. “C’mon, let’s go. We gotta find some shelter.”

You thought about it for a bit and realized he was right. This wasn’t the city. You sighed and bit the inside of your cheek before answering. “Okay.”

As you silently trailed behind Bakugou, you realized you just followed him blindly. It was like he read your mind when he spoke again. “I saw a cave awhile back. We’ll camp out there. Along the way let’s just collect some firewood whenever we see some.”

You followed his orders and by the time you guys made it to the cave, you were all set to sleep. You collected wood for a fire and even leaf piles to sleep on. As you both entered the cave, Bakugou set up your sleeping area and you started the fire with your bending. Once you were done you took a seat infront of the fire and just stared at the bright flame. Here you were in a cave with your....well now you were back to where you started with him. You didn’t know what you two were anymore.

Bakugou finished with the leaves and when he turned around, he saw you sitting on the ground with a blank look. He looked at you with sad eyes and a broken heart before he sighed and sat in-front of you on the other side of the fire. You looked towards him in confusion as to why he sat but then it came to you.

“Talk.” He said as he looked towards you. You stared at him and saw he was working to build up his walls again as if he was preparing himself for disappointment. He was smart for doing so though because disappointment was exactly what he would be feeling. That and probably some severe heartache. You pressed your lips together with a sad look on your face as you came to the conclusion that there was no avoiding the truth now.

“....I’m not who you think I am.” You said and it was like the air thickened as you watched how his jaw clenched and his eyes teared behind his mask.

“My name is Y/N L/N, I’m 16....and I’m a member of the League of Villains,” Bakugou’s breath stilled as he heard the words leave your mouth. He already heard it once but hearing it now as confirmation hurt.

“The story I told you when we were in the kitchen that night was all true. I just left out some details and kind of switched the story around. The place I was born in was a hidden village. The people there had the abilities to control the 4 elements. My parents had me but were killed by the cult I mentioned before. They took my people in so they could use their abilities to create the weapons, but me being so young, I had no idea how to control them. Eventually, I discovered I was the one who could bend all 4 elements instead of just one....I discovered I was the avatar.” You breathed out.

“The avatar?” Bakugou scoffed, “the bridge between the spirit world and physical world? The person destined to bring peace to the world? That’s nothing but a legend.”

“Wellll then I guess I’m a legend so thank you for that compliment.” You said and Bakugou stared at you in shock. He was sitting with the actual avatar. “Blah blah blah, trained with a master, blah blah blah, and that’s when the league found me. They saw my abilities and took me in. But you don’t get to live in the league’s hideout once you join. You work your way up the food chain and so I had to live on the streets and do their dirty work to prove myself. I did it for survival, but in the end, being a villain was all I knew. So I stuck to it. I officially became a member and I eventually became Titania, the best female villain alive.”

“....Why did you come to UA?” He asked.

“I didn’t want to. I came for a job. Aizawa and I were fighting when he took me away while I was injured and offered to take me in and put me in school. Said he saw good in me....obviously he was wrong considering the only thing that triggered me to go was the fact that there was an opportunity to take down UA and prove myself to the league.” You explained. You noticed Bakugou kept quiet and bit his lip as he seemed to have shook a little before asking the next question.

“...What about me? What part did I play in this fucking game you got going on?” He asked. You didn’t look at him the entire time. You kept your eyes on the fire and held a nonchalant face the entire time.

“You were the only part of my UA life that was genuine. I didn’t come here looking for a relationship and I didn’t need a relationship to take down UA.....but then you came into my life. You showed up and something about you...just made sense to me. And it gave me a comforting feeling I never got to experience before. You gave me a break from my chaotic life and it was the refresher I needed.” Bakugou blushed at your confession but still felt sorrow. Your feelings for him were true but that doesn’t change the fact that you lied to him and never told him who you truly were. You were also a villain while he was a hero trainee. This relationship was wrong. He dropped his head as tears began to pool at his eyes.

“.....I still love you, Princess.” He confessed.

“I know...and I still love you Suki..”

“........WHY DID YOU HAVE TO LIE?!” He screamed as he stood up. “YOU LIED TO ME ABOUT WHO YOU WERE!”

“I did a lot of things but I have never lied to you about who I was or what I felt towards you,” you calmly said to his loud proclaims.

“BUT YOU DIDNT TELL ME THE TRUTH EITHER Y/N! ....You didn’t tell me anything. You left me in the dark. You made me fall in love with you...and now I don’t know what to do...” he sobbed out. “You’re a villain...my dream is to be the number one hero...but I love you...but it’s wrong for me to not put you behind bars.”

You just looked at him with a straight face but it was clear you were hurting as well. But you still continued to let him take his frustrations out on you.

“I’m sorry Katsuki..”

“SORRY ISNT GONNA FIX ME Y/N! SORRY ISNT GONNA MAKE ME STOP LOVING YOU! SORRY ISNT GONNA STOP ME FROM BEING ANY LESS CONFUSED!”

A silence fell over the two of you. Bakugou was so hurt and it was all your fault. He didn’t deserve this. None of them did. And yet you still followed through with this horrible plan. You knew what had to be done.

“Let’s just get some rest..we should start our search for home again in the morning,” you said as you got up and walked over to the sleeping area. But this only triggered Bakugou even more.

“Rest?! REST?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME Y/N?! YOU’RE JUST GONNA DROP THE CONVERSATION LIKE THIS ISNT FUCKING IMPORTANT?!,” he said with tears in his eyes as he stood and screamed at you.

“YES! THIS ISNT FUCKING IMPORTANT! IF IT ISNT OBVIOUS, WE’RE DONE. OVER. SO LETS JUST FORGET ABOUT THIS AND FOCUS ON FINDING OUR WAY HOME!” You screamed back. The cave grew empty as silence filled the air. Bakugou felt his heart die in his chest. He loved you, even though you were a villain he still loved you. He didn’t want this to be over..but you? You were really willing to drop this relationship? Just like that?

“So..that’s it? You’re not even gonna try for us anymore? You’re not even gonna fight for us to be together?” He asked with tears in his eyes.

“......there is no more ‘us’ anymore, Bakugou.”

92 notes · View notes

twinklelilstarkey · 4 years

Text

Stopping you - Michael Gray [Part 3]

Words: 3.7k+

Warnings: Cursing. Smoking. Drinking Alcohol. Slight mentions of smut.

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

After a long day at work, all you can think about is how good alcohol sounds right about now.

The men outside of your door are already drunk and dancing around in the pub. Not that you cared, working with singing men and loud footsteps is something you’re grown used to.

You leave your things over your desk and grab your keys. As you walked out of your office, you were welcomed by the smell of tobacco and whiskey, something that must be in engraved in the Garrison walls by now.

“Y/N!” A drunken man screams with his arms in the air, big smile and with great enthusiasm in his face. “How are you, my love?”

“I’m doing good. What about you, dear?” You ask with not even half of his enthusiasm, but with a small smile.

“Oh, you know, same old. My wife hates me still, which is unfortunate” He says, and you chuckle at his indifference towards the situation.

“You’ll eventually get her love again, I’m sure of it” You tell him, in hopes that that it would be enough to keep his cheery-self dancing around and not crying against the walls.

“I sure will”

You walk away from the man as the music continues to control the rhythm in the room, and as you get close enough to the bar’s counter, Billy looks over at you.

“The usual or something stronger?” He asks and you smile at him.

“The usual”

The strong option is your perfect drink when you haven’t been your best. Maybe work is being a bigger pain the ass or, even, Tommy got himself a new rival. Works for both of them, the only difference between them is how many cups you down on each night.

As Billy puts down, in front of you, a glass cup with whiskey, you’re quick to send him a grin as a thank you.

You sip your black-tea-coloured drink and almost sigh in content as the flavour extends from the tip of your tongue to the back and how it leaves its burning trail down your throat.

“Never thought you were the whiskey type of woman” Someone says beside you and you put your drink down when recognizing the voice.

“Usually happens when you don’t really know someone”

Michael bites the inside of his cheek at your words and looks down at the dark brown counter, silent.

You don’t look at him. Your hands play with the cold cup, fingers moving and creating droplets of water, which naturally drip down into the old wood.

Your eyes, then, travel the whole room, from the singer in the small stage to the drunk men that happily singed along, ignoring that they’re completely off tune.

Michael, on the other hand, when noticing that you aren’t looking at him, looks straight at you. Admiring your shiny hair that moves as you move to stare at someone else. Your suit, which shows to have no creases whatsoever and hugged your figure in all the right places. Your hands now decorated with golden pieces of jewellery just like his mother would, sometimes, wear.

The one thing Michael couldn’t take a good look at was your face. The one he now knows that is decorated with light make-up, making your infinite and natural beauty stand out to anyone who would cross paths with you.

“Are you planning on telling me why you’re here or do you want to continue to stare at me in silence?” You ask when turning back to your drink, making Michael get a good sight at your side profile.

“I wanted a drink” He answers, and you sigh.

“Not here at the Garrison” You correct, “Even though I do believe that this place doesn’t meet your American influenced standards” You say, adding the last words purely just to annoy him, “I meant why you’re sitting next to me”

Michael stands quiet, as he’s quite taken aback as he didn’t expect such spiteful words come out of your mouth.

“No special reason” He says, and you scoff, “You’re just the only person I know in this pub” He adds, making you almost roll your eyes.

“That usually happens to the ones that don’t stay in touch, you know?” You say, now looking up at him, “These people have been regulars for some time. Friends with the Peaky Blinders, friendly people”

Michael’s eyes stay glued on yours as you look over at him. Your eyes are filled with arrogance and disinterest, but they still made him hold on to his breath as they met with his.

Your words, though, were hurtful, and they got a reaction from him.

“You know it wasn’t my choice to leave for America” He says, grabbing his drink, which had been put down by Billy a few seconds ago as you talked.

“No. But it was your choice to leave us”

Michael is silent once more.

Confusion filled the man’s mind as you said those words, they didn’t make sense to him, especially after you just agreed on it not being his choice to leave the country.

Until they did.

He had left, physically, months before he really left. He was still a part of your and his mom’s life after getting on that boat. And it all ended because he-

It doesn’t matter anymore, now, does it?. Michael thought.

The truth tends to hurt more than it should, so might as well not speak of it.

“I’m happy to see that you’ve changed” Michael says, ignoring what you had said, sipping his whiskey.

You stay silent and quickly look over at the band, which was starting a new song.

“You sound and look more mature” He continues, “It seems as if you grew stronger”

“Can’t say the same about you” You say in almost a whisper without looking at him and Michael lets your words register in his mind before thinking of an answer.

Your finger circles the rim of your cup as you try to ignore the man’s presence and Michael decides to stay quiet, not wanting to ruin his opportunity to talk to you even further.

You sip your whiskey and immediately hate that you can’t even enjoy it as much as you wanted. Your mind is too occupied with Michael to even concentrate in the flavour of the drink.

A hand touches your back, making you snap back to reality, and you turn slightly to see the owner of the hand (and whether or not you need to chop it off him). You relax once your eyes meet Finn’s.

“Well, look if it isn’t the one who has been avoiding me for a whole week” You say with a smile, making Finn smile back at you.

“I haven’t been avoiding you” He says before pulling you into a small and tight hug.

The smell of tobacco hits you as your body collides with Finn’s chest and you wrap your arms around him to hug him back.

Billy is quick to run over to you and serve a drink to the youngest Shelby brother and you smile at Finn’s appearance once pulling away.

“You look like a mess” You comment at him and he rolls his eyes.

“No surprise there, Tommy has been giving the weirdest of orders lately” He says before downing his whole drink in one go, cringing slightly at the burning sensation and at the sour taste.

Michael’s eyes stay on his cousin as you smile brightly at him and he studies the situation silently. He can’t help but think about how this is, surely, a friendship he did not expect to see when coming back home.

Finn, the one guy that liked to suck petrol off people’s cars for fun, is now friends with a girl, who liked to run through flower fields and ride horses for a living. Now that’s a shocker.

Michael clenches his jaw once his cousin looks at him and he looks down at his drink, trying to hear your conversation as a way to relax his mind and not overthink about the whole situation.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” You ask Finn, catching the younger boy’s attention again.

“Am I being recruited to lay in bed the whole day?” He asks with a teasing smirk.

“You can always name a better idea to pass time”

“I sure know my ways” He jokes, and you hit his shoulder while dramatically gasping and biting your smile in.

Michael has had enough the moment he heard Finn’s words. His heart pumps in his chest as he grabs his cup and downs his drink in a swig.

He just wants to get out of there.

He quickly throws money at the counter and turns away from it, finally making his way out of the old Pub.

Finn glares at Michael’s back as he opens the door abruptly and you smile at the drunken men trying to pull you in for a group dance.

Your best friend looks away from Michael, who now is making his way to his car, and looks down at your laughing state, twirling while holding an older man’s hand. Finn smiles at you and you continue to laugh with the man as he makes his own twirl while holding your hand.

(…)

Finn’s ways to have fun can vary on who he’s hanging out with.

When he’s with you, in your days off, it can start with lying in bed and talk about life, and end with riding some of Tommy’s horses through some fields - which surprisingly always ends up with having races between you two.

You win, most of the time, and Finn easily gets done with riding whenever you do.

One day you tried to bake with him in Polly’s kitchen, just to try and do new things. And let’s just say that in a space of 15 minutes, Finn was able to turn the soft batter into pure cement.

‘Never again’, you told him.

At night, after dinner, your plans are a whole different story.

Pubs are simply the only way you two seem to know how to have fun, and the only think that varies in those nights, are the drinks and their quantities. Literally.

“Stop it!” You say loudly while smiling at Finn, who threw another handful of dry leaves at you.

“Or what?” He teases.

“Mud will find its way into your pockets really quick” You say with a serious expression and Finn snaps his head to you, shaking his head, “Oh yes, in your newly bought suit”

“You’re no fun” He says while leaning his head back on the grass.

The two of you lay on the grass of the field in silence, staring at the white clouds that covered most of the sky.

The horses aren’t far from you two, eating the fresh green grass happily while minding their own business.

“How have you been lately?” Finn asks, breaking the silence. “About, you know, Michael coming back”

“Not that bad” You say in a whisper, closing your eyes as the sun peeks from the clouds, warming your exposed skin.

“Are you sure?”

You don’t answer him this time, making Finn move his head to the side and look up at you. He stares at your face, which already has its natural frown engraved into it, and expects a reaction. Which did not seem to appear.

It’s like you didn’t even hear him. But he knows you did.

“I haven’t met his fiancé yet” He continues, and you scoff, making him smirk.

“You aren’t missing much”

Finn’s smirk curves into a full-grown smile and he looks back at the sky, bright eyes burning at the brightness.

“What’s the worst thing about her?” He asks, actually curious about the blonde American he has heard so much of.

“Attitude” You answer quickly, without even a second thought.

“That bad, uh?”

You smile at his curiosity and open your eyes slightly, squinting at the light.

“No, Finn. She’s not your type” You say in a reprehensive tone, and he chuckles with you, punching your leg lightly. “But seriously, this time. She isn’t that special”

“Ooh” He says in a low voice and a teasing tone, “You hate her”

“I wouldn’t say ‘hate’” You comment, “Just strongly dislike” You add while laughing in between words, making Finn shake his head in disbelief.

He sighs loudly and holds himself up on his arms before laying his head on your thighs.

“I wish I was on that family meeting” He says, making you grin and lay your hand on his head.

Your fingers play with his short hair while deep in thought, imagining Gina’s face and remembering how much she annoyed you the other day.

“You would’ve made it more entertaining, to be honest” You say and Finn dramatically gasps.

“I knew that you would eventually miss me in meetings. Just try to tell that to Tommy so I can finally be accepted back in”

You laugh loudly at him and he smiles at the sound of your laughter.

(…)

Michael pushes the Garrison’s doors open while walking in and that was enough to catch some people’s attention. His face is well known, even to the ones that are not too familiar of the Peaky Blinders, or even Birmingham as a whole.

His eyes travel through the people around the pub and they quickly land on you.

He immediately notices by your movements that you’re drunk out of your mind as you danced with older men and women at the loud live music and smiled up at them.

His eyes drift away from you and as he reaches the counter, he orders a drink to Billy, who noticed his presence once he came in.

As the man behind the counter starts to serve his drink, Michael looks over his shoulder to check and see if he hasn’t lost you in the crowd just yet.

He then took notice of the dress that you’re wearing.

Memories crashed into his mind like waves into rocks. It’s the same dress that you wore in Tommy and Grace’s wedding.

It’s black, which was unusual to your style at the time, but still flowy. It moves with you and with the wind, easily catching people’s attention when you danced around them.

The day of the wedding was definitely one of his favourite memories of you.

He remembers how the two of you sat next to each other during the religious ceremony that connected Grace and Thomas to each other.

And how you two silently imagined how that would be the two of you in some years.

The way you leaned your head on his shoulder and pulled his hand into your lap.

It was all engraved in his mind.

If he had the choice, he would forget all of the days that you two shared together. Before all that happened, those memories were what calmed Michael down and brought him back to the sweeter side of reality. But now, they only work as a torture mechanism for his brain.

He doesn’t want to remember the old times, especially when his fiancé is just a few streets away from this pub, sleeping, and completely unaware that he isn’t next to her in bed.

But his mind likes to play tricks.

The images of all the hugs and soft kisses from that day replayed on his head. Even what had happened after the ceremony, in one of the storage rooms.

Your soft gasps and your delicate touch replayed as if it was no longer a memory, but reality. The way his hands touched the soft skin of your hips and your thighs, while you moaned softly into his ear, trying to keep quiet.

It was all so vivid that it felt like it happened just the day before.

And those were only memories of one good day.

Michael has millions of memories of the two of you.

And, unfortunately, only few were bad.

As he stares into the ground, trying to shake away his thoughts, you notice him. A smile grew in your face immediately.

You down your drink and decide to walk over to him, stumbling over some things on your way to him. Some men around you laugh at how you almost lose your balance and fall to the ground a few times, but you ignore them.

“Look if it isn’t the American wannabe” You say loudly when you reach his side and Michael looks up from the floor at you.

“Already with the insults?” He asks and you shrug.

“It’s just a reflex by now” You comment making him nod and lift his eyebrows in annoyance. “Where’s your wife?”

“My fiancée” He corrects but you don’t care enough to acknowledge it, “is at the hotel”

You frown slightly.

“Sad. We could all have fun together”

Michael ignores your comment and you lean in closer to him.

“Did you ever love me?” You lean over to the counter and lay your head on your fist as you waited for an answer, in which you never got. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

Your voice is a complete giveaway of your intoxication. That, and the small hiccups between words.

Michael doesn’t answer, just continues to stare at his drink.

“You always said you did” You say before looking down at the rings on your hands. “Must’ve been a lie”

Michael bites the inside of his cheek as he fights to stay quiet, but he decides not to.

“It wasn’t a lie”

“That’s what a liar would say” You exclaim proudly, and he rolls his eyes at your immaturity, mostly caused by the large amount of gin and whiskey you’ve consumed.

If you had to be honest, alcohol is obviously what is making you want to talk to Michael in the first place, even if it’s just to insult him. You wouldn’t make your sober feet move to go talk to him, and that was even obvious to Michael, who still saw this as improvement.

Out of frustration, Michael takes a cigarette out of its metal box and lights it in a quick movement. He inhales and his lungs fill with the familiar smoke, like any other day. But it feels different.

Maybe it’s because he’s not used to smoking in this particular pub after these 2 years, or maybe it’s just your presence next to his.

At least that’s he likes to believe.

The nicotine isn’t relaxing him as it usually did. So may God help him through the night.

You look over your shoulder at Michael and slightly turn over to stand in front of the man, between him and the counter. Your eyes analyse his face and your eyes meet for a slight second.

“You have an eyelash-” You say while extending your hand over Michael’s face, reaching for his face, swiping your thumb over the eyelash that has fallen onto his cheek.

Michael doesn’t flinch at your touch or even slightly move away; he lets you touch him. You blow the small hair out of your finger and your eyes drift over to his, once more.

“You didn’t change at all” You say with a slight frown on your face.

“That’s normal. Two years isn’t that long” He answers back.

You scoff at his words while fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Speak for yourself” You whisper, and Michael almost doesn’t hear it. “Anyways, you need to start bringing your wife out more times. I’m interested in knowing her better”

“She’s not my wife” He corrects you once more, “And that is not happening”

“Why?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

“Pretty obvious, if you ask me”

You ignore him and look around the bar, bored out of your mind.

“I still don’t know what you see in her” You say while confidently grabbing Michael’s drink from the counter and sipping it.

“Many things” He answers dryly.

“So many that you can’t even name one?” You tease and Michael looks away from you. “Come on, Miss America must have at least one good thing about her”

He shakes his head before looking back at you

“Why do you care so much?”

“Just curious” You say while shrugging, “She was a big surprise to all of us. It wouldn’t hurt to know a little more about her”

“We can talk whenever you’re sober”

“Ooh, you’re a big responsible man, now” You say with an annoyed tone, “Damn, you can be annoying”

“That insult is new” He teases further.

He is definitely the most infuriating person you’ve ever met. Maybe he has changed after all.

“You are probably the person I hate the most in the world, now that I think about it” You say, ignoring his words and drunkenly smiling at him.

You have to annoy him as much as you can, it’s only fair if the two of you suffer.

Michael clenches his jaw and you continue to smile at him. The smile is more than fake, and that can be seen from a mile away.

“Did I hit a nerve?” You ask him, “If so, I’m sure that you can always walk out of here to your wife’s arms, like the loyal husband that you are”

Oh, two can play at that game; Michael thought.

“You’re sounding a little obsessed” He says with a fake smile as well, not wanting to correct you again.

“Really?” You ask with a scoff, “Maybe we can start a competition on who’s more obsessed, then. Since, well, you know, it’s the second day you come in this pub and stare at me, while I’m quietly minding my own business”

Michael stays silent and you lean closer to him.

“Go back to your wife, Michael. I’m sure you’re more welcomed there, anyways” You say, “Oh, and isn’t she supposedly pregnant as well?”

“She isn’t”

“What a bummer”

You smile while leaning closer to Michael, who surprisingly hasn’t taken a step back yet, and your eyes move to stare down at his lips as a reflex. You stare back at his eyes to find them doing the same thing.

The alcohol pulls the two of you closer and your lips crash onto the corner of his lips.

It lasts 2 seconds and as you pull away slightly before Michael could make a scene, and to your surprise, he looks annoyed.

You pull back completely and down the rest of his drink, quickly walking away from the bar, over to the men that were already ready to dance again.

You smile proudly at you did and shout with the men in excitement as you restart the dance with them.

Tomorrow’s going to be fun.

- - - - - -

Taglist: @ohhersheybars @woodland-mist @onlythechicagoway @soleil-dor @finn-shelbys-bulldog @oh-theres-a-woman @peakyxtommy @ms-reader @beautycinders @lovemissyhoneybee @graceedwards @jadesbabylon @marvelismylifffe @a-dorky-book-keeper @peakascum @shanetoo @hufflemendes @cherrytop02 @http-cherries @burnitup

#michael gray x reader #michael gray #finn shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #michael gray imagine #michael gray imagin #finn cole #finn cole x reader #fanfiction

252 notes · View notes

ilguna · 3 years

Text

Redamancy - Chapter Eight (f.o)

summary: it’s time to forgive and repair.

warnings; swearing, murder, HEAVY GORE, mentions of FORCED PROSTITUTION.

wc; 12k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

If it weren’t for the irritating sun rays landing right on your face and into your eyes, you’d bask in this warm feeling forever. It’s like receiving an embrace from spring, herself. Bright sunlight, tolerable temperatures, bees, flowers, sundresses, picnics and comfortable afternoons in the park with your family. You can’t count how many good memories you have from grass fields and playgrounds in District Four.

Watching Alyssum run around the park, making friends and being a kid while she can is the most satisfying part. You can watch her for hours, lose yourself in her carelessness. Your sister hasn’t got a worry in the world to think about, it makes you envy her. A nice house, warm meals, a loving family. None of you are perfect, but you try to be for her.

There’s a lot she’s going to be missing out on already when it comes to parents. She has you, Reed and Mox to fill those roles for her. You’d like to say she can’t miss something she’s never experienced, you’d be lying, though. You miss a regular teenage life that you never got to live, thanks to the Hunger Games. The Capitol is always ruining something, even if they’re not actively trying.

Which brings you back to reality. As much as you’d like to lay here in the soft blankets and keep to your warm spot on the bed, you’ve got to get moving. If the sun is in your eyes already, it only means that your time is up when it comes to sleeping. Like a natural alarm clock, only somehow more annoying, even if it’s not loud and in your face.

You turn onto your back, slowly opening your eyes. You’re met with a white ceiling, smooth and crack-free. Back home in your room, your ceiling has plenty of cracks. When you don’t feel like getting up immediately, you’ll play a game with yourself. See which ones will start on one side of the room and make it to the other. You’ve gotten good at it, and confidently say that there’s a few that go beyond that, they go to the windowsill.

With a gentle sigh, you sit up on the bed, turned toward the window, stretching your arms above your head. It feels good to get the blood pumping through your arms and shoulders again. You can’t really help it when the stretch extends down to your legs. A low moan leaves your lips, and stops dead in your throat when your thighs begin to hurt.

You hum, standing on your feet. It hurts at first, but the more you move around the room, the better you begin to feel. You stare out of the window for a couple of seconds to see that the Capitol is already alive. It’s definitely past noon at this point. So much for a rotating schedule with Finnick, you’ve already ruined it.

You look over the room you’re in, which definitely isn’t your own. It’s Finnick’s, with the bamboo bed frame, white sheets and the hammock across his room. You used to hear him say how much he enjoyed your room over his, something about the ceiling to floor windows that you have. Takes up an entire wall, gives you a great view of the city. Better than the tiny windows he has lining the wall.

The clock says that it’s a little after two. You two really have got to start moving before you miss out on anything inside of the arena. Not to mention, poor Gloss is sitting down there alone. He hasn’t had a friend to sit with since six this morning. A whole eight hours can be boring as hell, and quite frankly, lonely. He might have resorted talking to the sponsors, at this point.

Finnick is still sleeping on the bed, of course. His back is turned to the sun, explaining why he hasn’t woken up just yet. It’s not going to stay that way for very long. You’d leave him sleeping up here if it weren’t for the fact that it’s entertaining to see him hungover. It’s not often you get to see him like that, and you’re not really willing to pass up an opportunity. Plus, you might as well keep him around as company so it doesn’t get awkward later.

Before you wake him up, you find and put on your bra. He got to see all of you last night, there’s no reason to continue to walk around shirtless. You pick up your pants, and tank top, as your shoes are kicked off by the door. You begin to pull on your jeans, having to bounce slightly to pull them up all the way, when Finnick rolls over.

He groans, throwing his arm over his face to keep the sun from getting in his face. You’re satisfied to see that he’s about to get the same unpleasant wakening that you got, until you realize that his arm completely blocks out the light. What a shame, you were looking forward to watching him come to life like a zombie.

“Hey,” your voice is soft, not really wanting to disturb the peace. He doesn’t seem to hear you, or maybe you’re too quiet. You speak a little louder, “We should probably get down to the betting room, check on our tributes.”

Finnick freezes, and then jolts upright. His wide eyes land on you easily, face twisting as he slowly thinks over the scene in front of him. You pull on your tank top, raising your eyebrows as you wait for him to come to the conclusion himself. After a couple more seconds, he hums out a small tune and falls back onto his pillows, closing his eyes.

“I thought I was still at a client’s house for a second.” he breathes.

“Good morning,” you muse, “How are you feeling?”

“Besides the pounding headache, my back’s pretty messed up.” his eyes open, giving you a sly smirk. You grab one of his shoes, which aren’t as close to the door as yours are, and chuck it at him. Finnick laughs loudly, catching the shoe before it makes a hole in the wall, “I’m fine, considering that I finished half of your drink last night on top of mine.”

“One of us had to be responsible, and I figured that you wouldn’t want to be the one.”

“The next time we go out, I’m going to make you loosen up.” Finnick says.

“If you’re calling me uptight, I’ll shove a stick up your ass so you can see how it feels.” you lean against the wall.

He rolls his eyes, getting out of bed. He’s got a pair of boxers on, so he’s not completely naked either, “How are you feeling?”

“Well rested, actually. Your bed is pretty comfortable.”

“You’re welcome to sleep here any time.” Finnick says, kicking yesterday’s jeans into the corner, as well as the shirt.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” you snort, collecting your shoes, “I’m going to take a shower and get ready. I’ll see you in the dining room.”

“Sure.”

You leave his room, shutting the door behind you. In your own, you quickly change and throw the dirty clothes off to the side for easy collecting when the avoxes come around later. It’s not as hot inside of the Tribute Center as it was yesterday, but the heat is still apparent enough to be one of the first things on your mind. You settle for a pair of shorts, sandals and a white tank top.

You throw the pile of clothes onto the bathroom countertop. The door whooshes shut behind you, sending a cold breeze of air straight to your back. Much like yesterday, you turn the shower water to cold, just on the verge of being warm. You decide to skip getting your hair wet, since you don’t really have time to mess around. It’s a quick wash with sweet smelling soaps before you’re out again.

As you’re drying yourself with the cyan blue towel, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. And with what you see the first time briefly, you have to go back to check that you saw correctly. A scowl appears on your face when you get closer, fingers gently brushing against your collarbone. Little dark marks litter your skin.

You press your lips together, staring for a couple of seconds longer. You have no choice, you have to cover these up. So, you pull on your clothes and get to work with the makeup, trying to find colors that’ll cancel out the hickey colors. You spend a good ten minutes blending, color correcting, and starting over when it’s too obvious. When you’re finally done, you can still tell that they’re there, but it won’t be the first thing anyone sees when they look at you.

You’d just wear a regular shirt if it weren’t for the fact that you’re already sweating with the tanktop on. You put on the sandals on your way out, making sure your ring is secured on your hand. Finnick is already sitting at the dining room table when you get out there, hair wet and he’s dressed in pink and white.

“Took you long enough.” he says, stabbing his fork into a pancake piece and placing it in his mouth.

You glare as you sit down on the chair, “I had a problem. Actually, you gave me a couple of problems and I solved them.”

His face twists, eyeing you now, trying to find the difference. When a plate of pancakes is served in front of you, plate hot to the touch, you cut up the pancakes, slightly amused by his determination to try and prove you wrong. Does he really think that he’ll be able to? You’ve gone through this plenty of times before with Anchor.

Finnick shrugs, “Whatever you say.”

At least now you have insurance that you did a good job. Finnick might be some type of moronic but that doesn’t mean he misses details. It’s the small things that you have to look out for. Another skill that you need when you’re mentoring, another thing to add to the list that you’ve gotten good at after these years. From what you remember, Finnick’s not too bad at it, himself.

The avox turns on the tv without either of you asking, but you thank him anyway. As you go for fruits instead of syrup this morning, you catch up on the arena with Finnick. Sanguin is in the cornucopia, a fire going in front of her. She’s got some sort of animal skewered using her sword, roasting it over the fire. She looks pissed, staring into the fire, letting the flames flicker in her eyes.

You’d like to say that she finally lost her mind, but she lost it a long time ago. Way before Bauhinia. Maybe while she was being strategically trained to think that the other tributes in the arena were animals? Or maybe when she volunteered for the Hunger Games like it would be a walk in the park? It’s hard to say exactly, there’s a lot of moments in these past few weeks where she could’ve gone wrong.

At any rate, she’s got enough water to last her a while. You can confidently say that she won’t be leaving the cornucopia unless it’s to get more food. There’s no way that the sponsors are going to cough up any money just for her to eat. Especially when she’s supposed to be trained for the arena. She should know how to hunt and gather. Besides, you’re sure that Gloss would want them to wait until it’s something important, like that healing cream. Even then, it took a couple of people to pitch in. The prices are getting amped up, it’s harder to pay for things now.

You have a feeling that she’s sitting down there for a reason, instead of going off and trying to hunt down any other tributes. She’s healed by now, you watched her put more healing cream on her body last night before she decided to call it a night. Which means that this morning, the entire wound has got to be gone. She’s still going to be sore when moving around, but that’s an obvious nuisance. She technically should be able to work through it.

So, if she’s not interested in hunting Tekla, that means she’s waiting for Annie to come out of the village. And you’d say that’s a pretty big problem, except for the fact that it’s not. Annie’s got plenty of food and water from her raid on the career backpacks and whatever Marsh was holding before he died. If she doesn’t want to, she won’t have to leave the house unless it’s for some sort of Capitol-generated emergency.

After yesterday, you can’t see them doing something like that. You don’t even think that both tributes dying were intentional. They like to watch the last couple of teens fight it out, since they’re the ones that are either: one, completely trained for the arena and know how to take another tribute out with a simple tree branch and a rock. Or, they’re completely lucky and know how to blend into their surroundings and stay there until the Capitol is forced to step in. They only do it when there’s been several days without any interaction between tributes and the Capitol citizens are starting to riot.

Those tributes are the ones that can go days without food. Water, not so much, but they’ll find a source nearby and stick with it as long as they can without getting suspicious. It’s not an impressive feat to go days without eating, it just goes to show the horrible living conditions inside of the other districts. Fortunately, your family hit rock bottom, but you never had to keep digging.

As for Annie, she’s still looking pretty dead inside of her house. She’s moved to a different corner that gives her a better look to see. It looks like she’ll doze off for a second before jerking upright, hand tightening around her sword. You saw her sleep last night, it was the whole reason why you and Finnick decided it was acceptable to leave the betting room in the first place. With the peace of mind of knowing that Annie was finally getting the rest she needed.

When you were at the bar, you didn’t really keep track of what was going on inside of the arena. Which, looking back on it, probably wasn’t a brilliant idea in the first place. If there was an emergency with Annie, knowing as soon as possible would’ve hypothetically saved her life. But you also just wanted one moment for yourself, with Finnick and a drink. It wasn’t much to ask for, and you’re sure that it was well-deserved. If it wasn’t, Annie would be dead in a ditch right now.

To some extent, she might as well be. While Sanguin is fueled with hate-fire right now--literally. Annie looks like her soul has been ripped out of her body. She’s pale, the previous kind girl light in her eyes is gone. She looks like a corpse, freshly pulled out of the coffin. You wish you’ve seen this before, because maybe that would make it easier to understand why she isn’t grieving like normal. Normally, tributes cry for hours, sometimes days until they have to pull it together to win. Annie is just… she’s completely lifeless. Actually, she looks like she’s given up with trying to survive inside of the arena. Which is a dangerous mindset to adapt, especially now.

Just two more tributes to burn through, all she has to do is hold on. Let Sanguin and Tekla fight it out, hope that one kills the other, and the one gets severely injured enough to bleed out and die. It would make the whole thing a lot easier on her, you know that. The last thing she’d probably need on her plate right now, is another death. She’s already got two genuinely impressive ones--taking out the male careers? You’re the only other person who has done that in the past five years. And she’s witnessed the death that would affect her, and it’s taking its toll already. It’s been two days.

Well, as long as Annie stays where she is, eats, drinks and sleeps when she needs to, she won’t have to worry about anything. However, this idea also goes for Sanguin, on the assumption that Tekla isn’t bold enough to go ahead and attack her uninvited. Sanguin’s also set for days--if she has extra food stored somewhere in the case of emergencies.

The only person that might get bored and start causing havoc is Tekla. She’s in the woods by herself, in a patch of grass unguarded by trees. She lays in the sun with her eyes closed, hands laced behind her head. Looking exactly like she did on the first couple of days inside of the arena. This time, she has a good reason to be carefree. Before, she had more than ten other tributes to worry about, all fighting to go home. Now it’s down to two others. It should be a walk in the park, if it weren’t for the fact that she’s being put up against two careers.

You wonder what her odds look like right now. They hadn’t changed last night, not even after she killed Seven boy. But now that it officially looks like she’s going to make it to one of the final fights and be crowned victor, she’s gotta have moved up. District Nine hasn’t had a victor in a long, long time. Their last one was a guy, and he’s the first male to be put into the mentor spot. If you remember correctly, there’s only five victors in Nine, which means that four of them are female.

Figures that their new potential victor would be a girl, right?

It looks like you don’t really have anything to worry about arena-wise. Really, if you wanted to, you could just stay inside of the apartment. With half-alive Annie, vengeful Sanguin and cheerful Tekla, it’s safe to say that today’s a free day. Things could change, but that’s just your prediction. The only reason you’d have to go down to the betting room is to show up for Gloss, but he doesn’t really matter, does he? You can just go and see him tomorrow.

“You’ve got a look on your face.” Finnick says, your eyes find him to see that he’s staring.

“So?” you stab a strawberry and place it in your mouth, resisting the momentary sour expression before the sweetness takes over.

“It’s your indecisive look.”

Now, your face twists, “I do not have an indecisive look--”

He laughs, “It’s unmistakable! You get the look when you’re thinking over something important.”

“Like a decision?” you ask, trying to be serious, but you end up laughing.

He seems to let it go for a moment, until he’s looking at you again, “What was it?”

You shrug, “I was just thinking that we wouldn’t have to go down to the betting room if we didn’t want to. The silence in the arena gives us a couple of liberties that we wouldn’t have on a normal day.”

“Oh, so you do have a relaxed side.” Finnick thoroughly enjoys the face you make, raising your fist as a threat to punch him in the arm again. You wonder how far he can push you before you finally give him a nasty bruise, “And you also woke me up for nothing.”

“Technically you woke yourself, I just spoke.” you shrug, “Can I get some more coffee?”

“Might as well go back to bed while I can, then.” Finnick says, but he doesn’t move from where he’s sitting.

You wait, receive your coffee, and let him stare at you for a little while, “What are you waiting for?”

“It wouldn’t be responsible--” he mocks the word in your voice, “--to go back to bed, wouldn’t it?”

You glare, “Finnick, you have the night shift, anyway. Stay awake, go back to bed, get drunk at The Victory Speech, have dinner with Gloss, I don’t give a shit.”

“You seem like you want me to go away.” he says, “I think I’ll stick with you, then.”

“Fine by me.” you scoop up your coffee mug, taking it with you when you go downstairs to sit on the couch. You pull out a coaster to not ruin the pristine glass table.

There’s not much to watch the tributes do at all. Sanguin roasts her food, and you think she ends up daydreaming some, because she burns the bottom side of the meat. Doesn’t even wrinkle her nose or look fazed when she bites straight into that part, even when it disintegrates in her mouth the more she chews. After she’s done eating, she moves to the back of the cornucopia, hiding behind a stack of boxes to take a nap.

Annie turns her knife over in her hand, spinning it between her fingers before she knicks herself one too many times. After that, she settles for pulling out a line of rope from her backpack, tying and untying knots. It’s a common hobby that people use to soothe anxiety and pass time when there’s nothing else to do. Doesn’t surprise you that she’s resorted to this. Although, you do begin to worry slightly when you watch her jump at the slightest of sounds and nearly get up every single time to check.

You’d say it’s a reasonable response, thinking that Sanguin is after her. But the house creaks the same way every time, lets out the same groan each time the wind blows too hard. It’s not like they’re new sounds. She should’ve picked up on this by now, realized that there’s no need to get ready to hurry into battle. Watching her grab her knife, lean forward, and listen for any other sounds over and over begins to make you feel antsy.

“There’s something wrong with Annie.” Finnick says.

You hum, “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

“What do you think it is?”

You shake your head, “Still working on that idea.”

“Anything you’ve seen before?”

“If I have, I don’t remember.” You lean back into the couch, “Let’s just wait and see how bad it gets.”

And the truth is, it gets worse, because it can always get worse. The good news is that you’ve figured out how to help her, on top of figuring out the problem in the first place. The bad news is that it requires a sponsor. And like you said earlier, all the prices have gone up. Getting one now would be a nightmare, but you have to try anyway.

As you go down to the betting room with Finnick, you think it over.

Annie is suffering from paranoia. She’s obviously shell-shocked from watching Marsh die, otherwise she would be acting normally. You guess that allowing two tributes that have known each other for a handful of years, go inside of the arena together wasn’t the brightest idea. But it’s not like you could control it. You don’t think that they even planned for it to happen, it was just a coincidence.

This is just one part of the problem, watching Marsh die. She also might be feeling guilty because she didn’t try harder to keep him from going. It makes the most sense. She tried to convince him to stay, but the second he showed resistance, she caved and followed. Guilt like this will haunt someone forever. If she wins, she’ll be stuck with thinking that Marsh could’ve gone a better way.

You know this, because you carry around a considerable amount of guilt, too.

The last part, concerning Annie, is the fact that she hasn’t slept in a while. Paranoia feeds off insomnia. Getting an hour or two of sleep after watching your friend die right in front of you, in arguably one of the worst ways possible, is an unfortunate series of events. She can’t prevent not being able to sleep, so you’ll just help her as best as you can.

When you presented all of this to Finnick, he agreed. Said that he was thinking something along the lines of what you are. The only hiccup that he’s worried about is finding sponsors wealthy enough to sponsor this late into the games. They also have to be betting on her too, so that if she does win, they’ll get the return in full.

The betting room seems slightly busier than usual. Like you predicted earlier, Gloss decided to go ahead and take company in the Capitol people. Tekla’s mentor seems busy off in the corner, with people that don’t look like they nearly have enough money to sponsor this late in the game. It wouldn’t be any use trying to steal them, just a waste of time.

Gloss knows people, but that would mean to interrupt what he’s doing right now, which seems fairly important. The group of people that Finnick had approved of is thin, pooling their money together wouldn't even buy a loaf of bread. Much less what you’re thinking about right now.

It only leaves a couple of people, ones you haven’t talked to in days. You stop a couple of steps inside of the room, allowing Finnick to come in and shut the door behind him. He waits there for a moment, before coming around the side.

“What are you waiting for?” His voice is slightly hushed. No one has really taken notice of your appearance just yet. If needed, you could probably slip out the door and no one would know the difference.

You look at him.

You made an agreement, take his advice on who to be around and who to stay away from, and he’ll help you. You thought that it would be easy then, because you didn’t need the sponsors. Annie and Marsh had a strategy down, they didn’t look like they’d be needed help anytime soon. They had everything they needed at the moment. But now that Annie needs something more, you’re stuck.

Having Finnick around to be a second body, a second pair of hands and eyes and ears, has made a difference. You’ve slept well, you’ve been allowed to hang out with friends when given the opportunity, and you can finally pace yourself. No more running around like it’s life or death, or being afraid to sleep because an arena is particularly dangerous.

However, you can do it alone. Annie’s needs right now is going to come before whatever requirements Finnick has. Bringing a tribute home is crucial, buddying with Finnick is a perk. If he gets mad at you for this, there's always next year.

“I need you to come with me and not intervene, or go back upstairs.” You say, squeezing the finger your ring is on.

His face twists, “It depends—“

“No. You go upstairs, or you don’t intervene.” You start towards the sponsors, “I mean it, Finnick.”

You’re not even halfway across the room before they spot you. You smile at them, letting them welcome you. When you don’t feel Finnick’s presence behind you like normal, you turn to look. The door is sweeping shut, you briefly catch a glimpse of him leaving.

The sponsors are happy to see you again, you talk with them for a while, and watch what goes on inside of the arena. It’s all small talk, or questions about what you feel like is going to happen. Until they finally bring up Annie, how she’s doing. And just because you can’t hold it in, you spill it all out, being completely honest with them.

Annie is hurting right now, and she can’t help it. She can’t simply fall asleep because she’s afraid of the nightmares and the vulnerability that comes with it. There’s always the possibility that her body simply isn’t letting her sleep, too. She’s not physically tired, so why would she lay down and try? So, you think that if you find something that’ll make her drowsy, she’ll feel more inclined to.

You can’t guarantee that it’ll work, but it’s worth a try if it means that she wins the games, right? The sponsors seem to think so, and with a budget, you bring them over to the sponsoring table. Everything under the sun is allowed to be sent to them. Name it, and thye’re probably have it. It’s just the price that makes it impossible to work around.

You know for sure that pills are out of the question. The second you see the price, you’re switching gears. Medicine? Maybe. You look at all the options they have for tributes for when they’re sick. You’ve seen a handful of these brands in District Four, all of them expensive. With the money that the Capitol gives you, you can finally afford them. Which means that Alyssum doesn’t have to suffer through colds like before. The medicine works wonders, but the Capitol version will be too much for her to handle. It might as well be a tranquilizer.

Something more natural, then. Those are always cheaper. You go through it, seeing the little vials of brightly colored liquids and the contents. Ones to make you throw up, give adrenaline if the tribute is dying, allergy medicine to save them from anaphylactic shock. And finally, one for sleeping. Without a moment of hesitance, you tap on it.

They all pitch in a certain amount, allowing the vial to be covered in full. You thank them, with assurance that it won’t go to waste. Annie is a tough tribute, she’ll be able to win. All she needs is a little sleep to reset her body, hopefully start her over. It’s like shutting something completely off before trying again.

You take a breath before writing on the paper, ‘Drink it all’.

You get to stand back and watch as the gamemakers find the best way to send it to her. You don’t doubt that she’ll hear the noise that the gifts make. Especially if she’s hearing noises that aren’t being picked up on the microphones. It’s where they have to drop it off to make sure it doesn’t get caught on anything on the way down, like a corner of a roof.

The chiming is a sound that you still hear in your nightmares. You watch as the silver parachute glides through the air, slowly moving between the houses. At first, it doesn’t seem to alarm Annie, but then she jolts, pauses to make sure she’s hearing it right, and then gets up. She shoves her knife into her belt, carefully goes down the stairs so that it doesn’t break beneath her.

She looks more alive like this, the color has returned to her face slightly, she’s got a smile hinting at the corner of her lips. When she finally comes out of the house, swinging the door open and letting in the natural light, she cries out in shock and covers her eyes. She mutters out a few curse words, squinting through the sun until her eyes adjust.

She spots the gift in the middle of the walkway. The smile grows more, scooping the tin into her hand. She gives the area around her a little look-around before disappearing back into the house, shutting the door and locking it. Even though it looks like the lock won’t do much for her anymore. The doorknob is practically falling off.

She makes it all the way to the third floor, back into the corner of her room. She slips down the wall and pops open the lid of the container. The first thing that Annie sees inside is the note, which she reads over carefully before moving it out of the way for the vial. It’s small, not at all as big as they normally sell them earlier on, but those ones also have the tendency to knock a person out for a whole day. This will just keep her asleep for a few hours, maybe the entire night if she drinks it now. You hope that she’ll be up at a reasonable time tomorrow.

Annie uncaps it carefully, and takes a small sniff. You can’t imagine that she recognizes the smell, even though it is sort-of distinct. If the medicine is fresh, it’ll usually smell sweet. If it’s not, then it’s stale, maybe a little sour. Obviously, one is more desirable than the other, but it works the same either way. Whether or not it’s fresh doesn’t affect the way it works.

When Annie is satisfied with the smell, she goes ahead and caps it again. There’s no directions, so she’s going to have to decide how she wants to do this. The sun will be setting in an hour, maybe two. Annie eats some dry foods, drinks some water. It’s smart, her wanting to get food into her body beforehand. If it were you, you probably would’ve just settled for drinking it straight, it might have worked faster that way.

She drinks it, slipping to the floor. She pulls the sleeping bag over herself, closing her eyes. It’s going to take a second to kick in, but it’s enough time for you to go upstairs and out of the betting room. You’ll be back down here bright and early tomorrow, there’s no point spending more time than you have to.

You thank the sponsors, shake hands and exchange hugs. Before you leave the room, you see that the Afternoon Line Odds are all the same. Sanguin’s is 2-1, Annie is 3-1, Tekla is 7-1. All very good odds, but not as good as Sanguin. Hopefully, that’ll change within the next couple of days. You leave the room before Gloss can see that you’re down there.

You spent a good hour or so just talking to the sponsors. The fastest part was getting them to agree on sending Annie a gift. It wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it would be. Finnick makes all of them out to be like criminals, constantly looking for their next fix. But they understand that you’re not like that. They can have their eyes on you all they want, it’s not going to happen.

Just before you go inside of the apartment, you’re sure that Finnick isn’t going to be out in the living room, or he’s not going to be inside of the apartment all together. However, when you step inside, you’re surprised to see that he’s on the couch, his arms crossed. He doesn’t bother to look over, not even after you shut the door. You almost feel guilty for doing what you did.

Almost.

You sit on the couch next to him, pull your legs up beneath you, and sit in silence. There’s no point to try and talk to him right now. You know that he’d probably like a moment to cool off. It might even be better if you didn’t sit in here at all, so he won’t be fuming next to you. But it’s not like you have much of a choice. You can’t just go back downstairs and sit in the betting room, that would be stupid. If Finnick’s right about the sponsors, there’s no reason to stay around them more than you have to.

So, silence it is. It’s a while before either of you have anything to talk about. Annie should be asleep by now, an entire hour later. There’s no way that the vial would take more than five minutes, even with a full stomach. Still, you watch as her eyes open, a frown appearing on her face, eyebrows turning in.

Your mouth falls open, you stand from the couch, “That’s not good.”

“What did you give her in the first place?” Finnick asks.

“It’s one of those natural sleeping medicines, the expensive ones?” you briefly look at him, before you go back to the tv, “Costed a fortune, so it should’ve worked. The gamemakers wouldn’t send a dud, right?”

“Probably not.”

You sit back down onto the couch, hands falling into your lap. You made sure that it was the sleeping medicine, and not the sick stuff either. The only other option that was left for Annie besides this, was the herbal tea. And that shit hardly ever works for you, or your siblings when you use it back home. The most the tea would do anyway, is make her drowsy, not even a guarantee.

It’s a good thing that you didn’t even consider the tea, because if the vial did nothing, Annie would be able to drink the entire box of tea and still not feel a single thing. The medicine was a waste of money, and who knows what it’s going to do to her. Make her even more delirious than she already is? Like she, or you guys, need that at all. You were already worried over her paranoia, now you’ve got to be worried about her accidentally killing herself?

There’s nothing you can do about it now. You’ve just got to sit back and wait to see if it kicks in, after all. There’s no point in going downstairs to tell the sponsors it was some sort of mistake, because you really didn’t know that this was going to happen. If you did, you probably wouldn’t have bothered in the first place. Everything is worth a try until it’s wasting resources. You might have been able to use the sponsor money later on.

Still, you have to sit and painfully watch as Annie progressively gets worse. Turns out, that if you don’t fall asleep with the medicine, it starts to work as a hallucinogenic. On top of Annie’s paranoia, she’s not hallucinating she’s hearing noises, and maybe even seeing things. You close your eyes and rest them against your palms when you lean forward, not really liking to hear Annie go through it.

It’s stupid. You’re not even sure how Annie’s resisting the drug, anyway. She’s not doing it on purpose, she clearly recognized the smell if she laid down immediately after. And it’s not like they had any sort of drugs available for hallucinations. No mentor would willingly give their tributes something like that, so why would it be offered?

No matter what happens, though, you’re glad to see that Annie doesn’t leave the house. She stays where she is, clutching onto her knife, staring into space. She’s just like how she was before you sent her the sponsor gift. Only this time around, she’ll randomly jump as if there’s been a loud sound, and then her eyes will follow things in front of her, even when there’s nothing there.

Elysia comes into the apartment around the same time you guys normally eat dinner, a little out of breath, “Oh, there you guys are!”

You look over your shoulder to see that she’s dressed in lime green and black. The black helps accentuate the green part, which you’re not really sure is a good thing. You’re sure that everyone can see her coming from a mile away, literally.

“You were looking for us?” you ask, she nods, heading over to you and Finnick.

“In the betting room, I thought you’d be down there since you normally are.”

Figures that the one time you wouldn’t be down there, she’d go, “Looked like there wasn’t much going on today so I thought we could stay up here. I only went down there to send the gift.”

“I saw that.” she says, “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

You three do it over dinner. With Elysia hardly eating and doing most of the talking, Finnick watching the tv and only chiming in when he’s needed, and you trying to do all three at the same time. It’s easy for the most part. Remember when you said that you got good at multitasking? This is an example of that.

She mostly tells you what you already figured out, which is that it turns out to be a hallucinogenic after a while. It should wear off, but it’ll take hours to do. Like, for the amount of time she should have been asleep for. She’s already got a couple of hours under her belt, you’d say that by tomorrow morning, she’ll be back to normal. So, there’s no reason to sit around and wait.

You and Finnick can get a full night of sleep for once. You just have to get up early tomorrow morning to assess the damage. You’re sure that it’ll be fairly easy to do, you’ll have to get yourself into the habit of waking up early again, anyway. You’ve got the boarding school to worry about. Anchor won’t want to do it alone forever.

Before you give it up tonight, you check the tv one last time. Annie is in her room, so she’s fine. Sanguin looks like she’s officially laying down to sleep, her weapons are displayed around her, all ready to be picked up and used at any time. As for Tekla, she’s made a bed in her little clearing in the trees. However, she’s bold, with a fire going that is distinguishable in the dark. She’s lucky that the back of the cornucopia is turned towards her, otherwise Sanguin would be more than tempted to take Tekla out.

You head back to your room after dinner, mainly to brush your teeth. You pace in your room for a moment, caught in the decision of whether or not to talk to Finnick or to leave him to be angry on his own. You’re sure that he’d appreciate being by himself, but there’s also this morning and last night to talk about. You can’t really just leave those alone, who knows what kinds of problems they’ll cause in the future.

“Okay.” you sigh, heading out of your room and to his. You knock on his door, waiting a second, “Finnick?”

It’s a couple more beats of silence, “Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

You open the door to see that Finnick is sitting on the corner of the bed. He looks up when you step inside, you shut it behind you, and lean against the door, “I’m sorry about earlier. I know we had an agreement, but the sponsors were at my disposal. I decided that I might as well, because I was sure that it would work.”

“And it should’ve.” Finnick mutters, “I would just like it if you wouldn’t go and do it again.”

“Yeah, I won’t. I don’t even have the options for it.” you laugh slightly, he cracks a smile, “You should probably know that I prioritize my mentoring job over everything else. If it’s the needs of the tributes versus you, I’m going to pick the tributes every time.”

“I know, you don’t have to be sorry for it.”

“Good, cause I wasn’t.” you grin.

Finnick rolls his eyes, “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“You can probably guess what it is.”

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with the horribly covered up hickeys, would it?” He’s cheeky now.

“Maybe.” you give him a soft smile, “I’d just like to know what we’re doing, and if we’re going to continue on with it.”

Finnick makes a face, “This is going to sound like shit, but I’ll go with what you want.”

“You’re right, it does sound like shit.” he laughs first, and then you join in, “The thing is, Finnick, is that I don’t have a problem with it. But the last time I checked, you were the one that told me that we weren’t good together. So are you sure that you’ll go with what I want, or are you going to break up with me in a couple of months after you realize it again?”

Finnick opens his mouth, and then closes it. “I deserve that.”

“It wasn’t an explanation, Finnick. In fact, it made things worse when we were just fine on the train, and then you come back from seeing Snow and--!” you’re shaking your head, giving yourself a moment before you start speaking again, “and suddenly I was supposed to know that we weren’t together anymore.”

“But you know why now, right?” Finnick asks.

“Parts of it.” you rub on the ring, “I know that it was because of Snow and the sex work. He made you break up with me to make you more available to the Capitol, right?”

“No, I actually made that decision myself.” he says.

You raise your eyebrows.

Finnick stares, tilts his head for a moment like he’s unsure, “There’s more to it.”

You wait, thinking that he’s just going to give up the information, but he doesn’t, “Okay…?”

“I don’t want to make you feel guilty.”

“Then why’d you say anything at all?”

He laughs, “To not make me look like an asshole.”

You snort.

“Alright well,” Finnick pauses, “President Snow had me taken to his mansion after the train, you know this. He told me that it’s not uncommon for victors to be well received by the Capitol, but I was different because I was handsome or whatever,” his face twists, “And since I was sixteen, I was finally eligible since it’s more morally correct to sell a teen into sex slavery when they’re sixteen and not fourteen.

“Snow said that I didn’t have a choice. I had to get into it or…” Finnick shakes his head, “There wasn’t even an or at the time. He just said that it was something I had to do, and I told him no, because I was finally feeling better and I had you. Then he urged me to say yes, didn’t even tell me that there would be consequences, so I told him no again….”

He’s angry, “And he fucking killed my entire family, gave the order right in front of me. I thought he was kidding, like it was some sort of sick joke until I had to fucking listen to it.” Finnick looks at you, “He didn’t even flinch when the screaming started, or when my brother started crying. I didn’t even know what to do. And after it was over he told me that the next person he’d kill next would likely be you, or your family if he could get to them. Or worse, sell your body too.”

You can feel the blood drain from your face.

“And I didn’t want that to happen, so I said yes. And then I broke up with you because I hoped that it would make the decision a whole lot easier but I think…” he grits his teeth, “I know it would’ve been easier with you to support me.”

No words form in your mouth, you stand in silence as you try to absorb the information.

“I’m…” your eyebrows draw in, “...selfish.”

“No.” Finnick says, “You’re not. You didn’t know, how were you supposed to? I told you nothing, I wanted a clean cut but it turned out to be messy, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing, Finnick?” you look at him, “I’ve been giving you a hard time--why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you come around later?”

“Because you moved on, like you should’ve.”

“I didn’t!” you laugh, moving forward, “Finnick, I hardly spoke to anyone after the year we broke up. My brothers fucking hated you for that entire year because of it. It took forever to convince them otherwise. The entire time, I was hoping that you were going to come around and tell me that it was some stupid prank. I would’ve forgiven you!”

He gives you a smile, “It’s better that I didn’t.”

You give him a look, and then sit on the hammock, “I guess that explains a lot.”

“You guess?” He laughs, “That’s it?”

“There’s not much to say, Finnick.” you shrug, “You said you didn’t want to make me feel guilty and I do anyway.”

“I didn’t have a choice. If you want, you could thank me for saying yes.”

You stare at him, he develops a cheeky smile, “Come on, that was mildly funny.”

“Mildly is the key word.”

The two of you sit in silence for a second, and then you dip your head, “I would be willing to give it another try, if you are.”

“Yeah.”

He’s got a grin on his face, like you just told him he’s getting a car for christmas.

“My brother’s will have to warm up to you again.” you warn him.

“Okay! They liked me before, right? What’s one more time?”

“They hardly give out second chances so you’ll have to consider yourself lucky.”

Finnick softly smiles, “I already am.”

A sharp pain in your chest wakes you in the morning. Your eyes shoot open, sitting upright in bed. It spreads immediately, like your heart is pumping it out; the source of the problem. You try and take a deep breath, hoping that you’ll get your mind off of it, but it makes the pain worse. Mid-breath, you stop, and exhale too deeply, causing another shock to go through you.

A groan leaves your lips, tears appearing in your eyes. You carefully get out of bed, wanting to be on your feet, hoping that laying down was the problem. You make no sudden moves, allowing the blood to make its way to your feet as you pace the room. With your palm, you rub small circles around your chest, which seems to relieve some of the pressure.

The clock on the stand reads eight in the morning, four hours before you actually have to get up and get ready for the day. You have a feeling that if you go and lie back down now, right when the pain is beginning to subside, you’re only going to make it worse. Plus, you don’t think that you’ll be able to fall back asleep, not with the adrenaline running through your body.

You take deep breaths when it doesn’t hurt, starting to feel dizzy from the self-hyperventilation. In no time, the pain is almost completely gone, only lingering in aches every now and then. You stand around for a few minutes longer, watching the sun rise high enough to finally come through the window before deciding that you might as well get ready.

The Tribute Center seems to have found its happy medium between too hot and too cold, as last night it was like existing in a frozen tundra. You’re lucky that the blanket they provide retains heat, otherwise you would’ve been bundled up a lot more than you were. Because of this, you think that you can settle for a lukewarm shower.

You lock your bedroom door before disappearing into the bathroom. The shower runs in the background as you undress, throwing all the dirty clothes by the door. You look over the tattoo on your collarbone, which is practically done healing by now. With the cream that the tattoo artist gave you, it doesn’t take weeks to heal like it does in the districts. As for the one on the back of your neck, it looks like it was done yesterday, when really it was years ago.

When you step inside the shower, you allow the water to run through your hair. You might as well wash it today. The shampoo you use smells like straight sugar, same goes for the conditioner. The bottle says it’s good for your hair, but the list of chemicals on the back is seriously concerning. The bathroom provides a matching body wash that smells exactly like the shampoo. You know for a fact that you saw a body lotion in one of the drawers, a part of you wonders if that’ll be overkill.

You turn the shower off and let the machines dry your body and hair. You decide to use the body lotion anyway, and by the time you realize that it’s glittery, it’s too late. You stare at your hands for a couple of minutes in shame, watching the white shimmer in the light. However, when it’s completely spread over your body and dried, it doesn’t transfer onto your surroundings, so that’s a good sign.

You brush your teeth while manually putting your hair together. You go for half-up, half-down since it’ll keep most of the hair out of your face. In the end, you still pull out a few strands to make sure that your face isn’t bland. Before you can do anything else, you have to get dressed.

The dresser holds plenty of skirts to work with, which you’re not opposed to. You sift through them, figuring that white will be fine. When you hold it up to your hip, you see that the skirt ends above the knee, so Finnick won’t have a reason to freak out. As for the shirt, you settle for a light pink, scoop neck bodysuit, with white underwear. When you finally get the entire outfit put together, you look at yourself in the mirror.

You’re very pretty today. The skirt doesn’t ride up too bad, even when you move quickly. The bodysuit prevents anything serious from showing, just in case the skirt does find a way to get stuck, or you spin too fast. You apply mascara, pull on white slip-on tennis shoes and the ring. Needless to say, you’re looking extremely girly today.

The clock says it’s reaching nine, you’d say that breakfast will take thirty, and then you can meet Finnick in the betting room at ten. So, you go out to the dining room to see that Elysia is nowhere to be seen. You refuse to believe that she left before you got up, she has to be sleeping in. Normal Capitol people stay up late and rise at noon. But then again, Elysia is an escort and she’s far from normal sometimes.

An avox turns on the tv, so you sit down at the table and wait as they serve brunch in front of you. It’s hashbrowns, steak, and a bowl of assorted fruit. You pick through your food, not super hungry and in the mood for all of it. Nevertheless, you’re sure to thank the avox that serves it to you, and continues to come back around to give you orange juice and coffee.

The arena screen is split into three, which isn’t new. It was like this last night, since there aren't many tributes to focus on at the moment. If there’s only three, you might as well show all of them and what they’re doing. At least one of them has to be doing something mildly interesting.

Tekla is still in her small clearing in the trees, which is fairly close to the dam, now that the gamemakers have marked it on the map. It’s a beautiful place to rest, you’d even picnic there if you had the opportunity. It’s not a good spot, though. It’s too close to the dam, too easy to kill her if and when it breaks. Still, she lays on her back, eyes closed. You can’t tell if she’s awake or not, but you’re going to guess that she is, judging by how her hands are intertwined over her stomach.

If she were sleeping, she’d probably be more annoyed by the sun. Instead, she’s directly under it, which might actually end up giving her a sunburn if she isn’t careful. That’ll be miserable to work with inside of the arena. You can’t even do anything to remedy the burn this far in, except for natural leaves and plants. You can’t think of any off the top of your head that you’ve seen so far.

Sanguin is in the cornucopia, she’s awake and stretching. She doesn’t look tired, despite the fact that it’s obvious that she just got up. Judging by her ratty blonde hair and the way her face twists each time she leans over. She stands up straight, and then grins slightly, turning around and going back inside. She combs through her hair with her fingers and sits on the edge of a box, sword right next to her. Maybe she’s planning on going out hunting today? You hope she doesn’t actually think she’ll get anything out of the village.

Especially with how awful Annie is looking. She’s got her arms wrapped around her body, knees pulled to her chest. The good news is that she looks to be asleep, mouth slightly open, leaned up against the connecting wall in the corner. But she’s got deep purple bags beneath her eyes, she’s only recently fallen asleep. You wonder how long it’ll last before she’s jolting awake.

It’s good that she’s sleeping, with no thanks to the medicine that you sent her. It probably drove her insane into early this morning, like you said would happen last night. You’d say that it’s a good thing, but with the way that Sanguin keeps looking to the village, it’s not. Annie needs to get up and be ready for a fight. Unfortunately, there’s no way you can warn her of this. You’re all out of options.

You finish your food, thank the avoxes, and leave for the betting room. There’s not a lot going on right now, it’s early morning. Everything big that happens in the arena is normally dedicated towards the afternoon to the evening, for the gamemakers at least. As for the tributes, they’re welcome to make and wreak havoc as they please, when they see fit.

The betting room is quiet and empty when you get down there. Finnick and Gloss are sitting by each other on the couch. You hold the doorknob on the door, carefully setting it against the doorframe so that they won’t hear you. If they thought that you scaring them was bad when they were semi-expecting you, it’s going to be worse when you’re supposed to be sleeping.

You stand behind them for a moment, squinting down at them, wondering if they have the same sixth sense that you do when people are standing over you. Your question is answered when Finnick barely glances over his shoulder, and then jumps three feet in the air when he realizes that they’re not alone. Gloss has the same moment, inhaling sharply.

A laugh erupts from you as you go around the couch to sit on the arm next to Finnick, “You two are too easy.”

“You’re like a fucking ghost, I didn’t even hear you come in.” Gloss says.

“That was on purpose.” you cross a leg beneath your thigh, “Woke up early by accident, thought that it wouldn’t hurt to come down and keep you two company for a little while.”

“Well, the afternoon schedule was nice while it lasted.” Finnick mutters.

Your face twists, you look down at him, “You’re a bad liar. There’s no way you like waking up at midnight and going to bed at noon.”

Finnick tilts his head for a moment, making a face, “I mean…”

You slap the side of his head before he can say anything else, “You don’t have to prove you’re a teenage boy.”

The Morning Line Odds say that everyone is still at where they were yesterday, so there’s no need to take in new information. You’re really just left to sit and wait for anything important to happen inside of the arena. In the meantime, you talk to Finnick and Gloss about the unusual silence. With your guys’ luck, it’s not going to last very long. There’s no way that the gamemakers will allow two normal days in a row.

However, today’s the ninth day of the games. You’re sure they’re going to want to keep it going on for a little while longer, so maybe they will allow fate to be in the tribute’s hands. In that case, you all might as well buckle up for a long day, because it’s going to take hours for Sanguin to make it to Annie, with the pace she’s going right now.

It’s almost ten in the morning when people begin showing up inside of the betting room. All brightly dressed, and particularly chatty this morning. This is when you decide to officially sit between Finnick and Gloss, not wanting the sponsors to see that you’re in a skirt today. Finnick seems happy, which is all that matters.

Unfortunately, Annie wakes up. She jolts, eyes flying open as she reaches for her knife. She gets to her feet without a word, carefully making her way across the bedroom to the window, where she rubs it down to look outside of it. Her eyebrows are drawn together, staring straight at the dam.

She seems satisfied for a second, gently nodding to herself. She goes to move away, until Sanguin comes into clear view. For half a second, you think to yourself that it’s a good thing that Annie is paranoid, because she just spotted the threat she’s been waiting for. After that, Annie scoops up all of her belongings, not leaving a single trace that she was there, besides the now-clean window.

She carefully goes down the steps, making it to the base floor without falling through the floorboards. Outside, she takes a deep breath, shuts the door and tries to jam some rocks beneath the door to make it harder to open. She tiptoes in grass to make sure that there’s no footprints, makes it a few houses over before she even considers walking through the dirt again.

None of it matters in the end.

A thunderous crack echoes throughout the arena so loudly that it breaks the microphones and makes several people scream out in surprise. You all watch in deafening silence as the dam continues to crack, and water begins to spurt out in large streams.

Your heart pounds in your chest. Today is the day.

You stand from the couch, moving a few feet forward to see better. Finnick and Gloss join you, not a single word passes between you three as you watch in awe. If such small cracks are already sprouting in streams big enough to create rivers, then how will the rest of the water fare? You have no choice but to wait and watch.

The screen is now in four, with one long screen on top completely dedicated to the dam, and three bottom squares for the tributes.

Tekla is on her feet, already rushing down the hill. She’s got no weapons on her hand, no backpack to weigh her down. She’s left it all behind in her peaceful circle in the woods. She whips through bushes, swings around trees, barely makes it over root and rocks on her way down. She’s freaked, struggling to keep her hair out of her face, constantly tucking it behind her ears.

Her feet look like they have a mind of their own, though. With the way that she goes down, it’s almost like she’s dancing, how flowery it is. However, her panic isn’t easily masked. She’s obviously shaking, and sometimes she’ll fuck up and have to catch herself before it’s too late.

Sanguin is standing on top of the hill, everything still on her as she stares at the water making its way towards her. Her eyebrows are pushed together, trying to assess the situation and if it’s worth worrying over. The answer is yes, because it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the concrete blows, and she’s left with a real problem. She slowly turns her back to it, picking up her pace, jogging through the grass. She’s still carrying all of herself.

And finally, Annie is also running through the buildings, just as panicked as Tekla is. The only thing that Annie has is her knife, clutched with white knuckles. She’s as white as a sheet too, breathing heavily through her mouth. You can empathize with her, even if she’s a while away, she knows that she can still be reached.

Another large crack sounds, Tekla slaps her hands over her ears and risks a glance behind her. There’s a jagged horizontal crack that runs from the right side to the left. It’s a matter of time before it goes. The concrete is spider-webbing, developing into a worse problem. Tekla tries to quicken her pace, but there’s only so fast you can go downhill before you risk hurting yourself.

Sanguin has dropped her things, running as fast as she did to catch up with Bauhinia. Her feet slam into the ground, and launch her forward another couple of feet before she’s connecting with the dirt again. She makes it across the second lower clearing, going uphill again. Those hills are going to be an absolute killer when it comes to the water.

The gamemakers are evil. It’s been exactly nine days, ten minutes and forty seconds since the tributes got inside of the arena. You said a week and a half? It hasn’t even been that. They’re in a hurry to get the big event over before one tribute can kill another. Why? Because it’s more fun cheering on the running tributes than watching them kill each other. It’s like betting on a running horse, who’s going to make it to the finish line first?

Annie stops, taking in deep breaths as she watches the dam through a row of trees. She’s able to watch as the final crack breaks the dam open like an egg. Concrete and debris go flying into the trees as the water creates a nasty flattening path through the woods. Almost every tree that the front water initially hits, is uprooted and brought with.

Tekla’s scream is piercing, lasting a couple of seconds before she’s completely cut off. She doesn’t die immediately, you’re able to watch as the water brings her along. She’s suspended in the middle, legs kicking, hands wrapped around her throat. She has half the mind to hold her breath, so that’s good news. The bad is that she’s a quarter mile underwater. There’s no way she’ll make it to the surface in time, if she did know how to swim.

You think you’ll have to watch her drown when she runs out of air, but an entire tree branch goes straight through her back and out the middle of her chest. Bubbles erupt around her face, hands grabbing the wood just before the cannon sounds. One down, three to go.

Sanguin has one more hill to make it up before she’s in the village. Her arms are pumping, face a bright red, her glances over her shoulder are quick and spared. She doesn’t do it often because it slows her down, it’s a brief check to see how far ahead she is in front of the water. And the truth is that it’s catching up on her. Just like you said, the hills are a nightmare.

Not only because she has to run up them, which tires her out more. But because the water gains momentum and unpredictability with every hill it surges over. The water doesn't seem to endlessly pour out of the dam, though. It seems like the gamemakers had a prepared forcefield. They just wanted to let out a controlled amount of water. Big enough to kill a couple of tributes before it thinned out and became a minimal threat.

Sanguin starts uphill the same moment the water hits the hill just behind her. Down it goes for a couple of seconds, before it’s surging above her in a giant wave. Sanguin makes it into the village, running beneath the roofs as if it’ll protect her from the water. She runs straight for a while, before starting to zig zag towards the corner.

She must realize that it’s not worth it, and that the diagonal running only slows her down, because she goes back to running straight, heading closer and closer to where Annie had been staying.

Speaking of which, Annie’s on the run again. You can tell that she’s keeping track of the height of the water. Even though the houses are decades old, they seem to be slowing down the water, since they’re all individually filling up inside. Sanguin doesn’t seem too focused on the fact, mostly wanting distance. She’s almost on the brink of losing it, though. Her steps are getting sloppier the more she goes.

Annie goes around a corner and into an alleyway, effectively blocking the water from her sight. It’s stupid, she’s not going to be able to keep track of it the same way she has. Sanguin has a point when it comes to running straight away from the water.

And then she starts climbing the walls. With how narrow the walkway is, she can scoot her way up little by little. It burns a lot of her time, and cranks up your anxiety, watching her do this. You know that she’s trying to get herself above the tide now. The houses where she’s at, are at least two stories tall each, not counting the roof.

Annie grabs the gutters, using her arms to pull her onto the red-orange shingles. You get a glimpse from where she’s at now to see that the water is lower, but she’ll still have to swim, even if she gets onto the high point of the roof. She takes one last look at her knife before she frisbee’s it to her right, making sure that it’s far away from her when the water does come.

Sanguin is losing ground. Soon, she’ll be stuck swimming too. It seems like that their times are lining up. Annie bends her knees, cracks her fingers, prepares her arms. Sanguin’s glances get more and more frequent, anticipating the moment the water hits her.

Annie dives straight in, letting the water welcome her. She doesn’t waste time, swimming straight to the top. Her face is serious, she has her eyes locked on the surface, kicking her legs hard, arm over head. While Sanguin holds her breath, fingers squeezing her nose shut, eyes following the structures in front of her. She narrowly misses the wall of the first house, before slamming right into the neck.

Just like with Tekla, there’s a large burst of bubbles. Sanguin struggles now, trying to swim to the top. She makes a few inches at a time, but it’s hardly noticeable, or comparable with how well Annie is doing. In fact, she’s reached the surface already, inhaling loudly.

The water directs Sanguin into a wall again, this time her head cracks against the wall. The water turns a light shade around her head, and it’s minutes before the cannon finally sounds. Which signals the water to drain, lowering Annie onto a roof nearby.

Her dark hair is stuck to her face and neck, clothes completely drenched. Her mouth is slightly parted, breathing loudly.

You grab onto Finnick’s arm, “Oh my god.”

“Congratulations, guys.” Gloss has got a grin on his face, he slaps you on the back.

“She did it.” you say, “Annie’s done it!”

Claudius Templesmith’s, the announcer, voice comes over the arena, “Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Seventieth Hunger Games, from District Four, Annie Cresta!”

Annie’s face drains of color again, before it’s bursting in red, “I win.” she murmurs at first, barely audible, before tears of relief are filling her eyes. Much louder, this time she screams; “I win!”

REDAMANCY IS PART 2 OF A TRILOGY //MASTERLIST//

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good-things-do-happen-dean · 4 years

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all that matters is the light in you and i | denny | 2.3K | based on that ty olsson cameo because i will never stop thinking about it...

***

Since it happened, Dean’s been having trouble sleeping. It doesn’t make much sense, really, since everything is over now. There’s no Chuck anymore, just a bunch of humans trying to figure out what the hell happens next. Maybe nothing, maybe everything, but probably anything, which could be why he can’t sleep.

Dean takes to wandering around the Bunker at night when the walls of his room start closing in. He and Sam explored when they moved in here, a little, enough to find the bedrooms, the bathroom, the kitchen. Then there were the storerooms and the dungeon and the server room. But the place is friggin’ huge and they just never got around to it, or they never had the chance to get around to it.

One of those nights, Dean’s coming back through the library. He just discovered the attic, which you can only get to by climbing up about a million stairs, with the added bonus of having to go back down them too. But all the stairs wore him out, so that’s okay. Maybe he’ll actually catch a few hours of bone-tired shut-eye, then Sam can have a field day sorting through all the shit up there tomorrow.

He almost doesn’t notice the message light blinking on one of the old phones they’ve got charging all the time in, what Jack calls, the Bridge. (The kid just discovered that there’s about a million versions and episodes of Star Trek). It’s really just a table and chair with an extension cord and all their old phones (and some of Bobby’s) in the back corner of the library. No one’s been back here in a while, or at least Dean hasn’t. They haven’t had any reason to. Things have calmed down, way down, since it happened.

The phone that’s blinking isn’t labeled, and he doesn’t recognize the number that pops up in the missed calls log from a few weeks ago. Still, might as well listen to the voicemail while he’s here.

“Hello, Dean,” Benny says, and the phone slips out of Dean’s hand and cracks against the floor.

“Fuck!” Dean grabs for it, praying to nothing, to everything, that it isn’t broken. His hands are shaking so badly he nearly drops the phone again. The screen is shattered in one corner, cracks spider webbing out from there, and he feels it nick his cheek just next to his ear. But Benny’s voice is still playing from the speaker, rich and low, lower than Dean remembers.

“- picked a fight with God -”

Dean starts the message over with trembling fingers. This is a trick. It has to be. A shapeshifter that’s still running around, or a crocotta maybe, hell, even a siren. Or it’s just Dean hallucinating from lack of sleep. It isn’t real because it can’t be. Because this is just the brand of fucked up figment that comes from Dean’s fucked up imagination.

“Hello, Dean. Been a while. The rumors of my early demise have been greatly exaggerated.”

He thinks of Purgatory and that Leviathan. His heart dropping like a stone and the ticking clock that left him with no time to breathe, let alone grieve, for days, for weeks, until it was over and that was the only thing left to do.

“I ain’t never seen a dogfight you couldn’t win. Go give ‘em hell, brother. I miss you buddy.”

The message ends, but all Dean can hear is “I’m topside again” on a loop, the low rumble of Benny’s chuckle.

“I’m sleepwalking,” Dean says to nobody, to the empty library in the middle of the night. “I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming.” His voice shakes as badly as his hands as he presses redial. He scrubs a hand down his face as it rings, and realizes he’s crying. “It’s gonna ring out,” he whispers, not knowing if he wants it to or not, not knowing which would hurt less.

“Hey, chief.”

***

Dean is nearly to Wichita by the time he realizes he’s not wearing any shoes. He’s never driven barefoot before in his life (it would be an insult to Baby, to all other cars, and to every human with sense), but hell if he didn’t tear out of the bunker like someone lit a fire under his ass.

Benny, what might be Benny, what’s probably Benny, is driving up from New Orleans to meet him outside of Fort Worth. Eight hours on the road, three of them gone already and he’s just now realizing he’s in his socks. The sun is peeking out over the horizon, painting the sky in pinks and oranges and golds as he flies along the highway that’s nearly empty this early in the morning. Dean Winchester will drive without shoes on when Hell freezes over, he thinks wildly and laughs out of his open window.

Sam calls an hour or so later, after Dean has gone through a drive-thru for coffee that he hasn’t touched. He’s running on no sleep, but he’s wired and shaky as it is. The coffee that’s turning tepid perched between his knees would probably make things worse.

“Where are you?” Sam says by way of a greeting.

“Just crossed into Oklahoma.”

“What - Oklahoma? Dean, what the hell?”

Dean zips by an eighteen-wheeler. There are more cars out on the road now, but it’s still mostly just open road. Four hours of open road between him and Benny. Less if traffic stays like this.

“We woke up and you were gone, Dean. Why are you going to Oklahoma?”

“Not going to Oklahoma, Sammy.” Dean puts the call on speaker and tosses his phone onto the bench seat so he can drum his fingers against the steering wheel. He’s buzzing with energy or nerves or both. “Do you know, are there any shoes in the trunk?”

“Shoes?” He can just hear Sam pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Dean. Where are you going?”

“Fort Worth.”

“What’s in Fort Worth? You catch a case or something?”

Dean is quiet for a moment, passing another eighteen-wheeler. If he tells Sam he’s hauling six hundred miles worth of ass because something that probably isn’t but might be Benny left him a voicemail three weeks ago, they’ll fight. “You won’t like it.”

“Dean, you better tell me what the hell is going on. Right now. You think I don’t know something’s up with you?”

“It’s -” Dean sighs, lifts his eyes to the sky that’s brightening into clear blue, sunny and cloudless as far as he can see. “Look, Sam -”

“Don’t ‘look, Sam’ me - “

“Fine, okay,” Dean says. Lukewarm coffee sloshes over the lid of the coffee cup perched between his knees. “It’s Benny.”

On the other end of the line, Sam is quiet. “Dean,” he says quietly, and there’s pity there. “You know Benny’s - I mean, it’s been years.”

“I know.” Dean steps on the gas, like it will speed this conversation up. “Man, I know, okay? He - I got a call, a voicemail, a few weeks ago, but I didn’t see it until last night with...you know. Everything. I’m not stupid, Sam. I’ll be careful, but I can’t - I have to -” He bites at his lip, thinking of a brightly-painted alley, of a forest in Maine at night, of an unmarked grave. He thinks of scrubbing blood out of the trunk, and of biting into his lip so hard new blood mingles with what he’s trying to scrub out. Of cranking up the radio loud enough that it echoed through the garage and he could choke out a sob without Sam hearing. “I just need to see if it’s him.”

“Okay,” Sam says finally. “Okay, but Dean, let me meet you there. Or Cas. You shouldn’t be alone, you know, in case…”

In case it isn’t Benny. In case it’s some monster, or some other monster, or the monster is actually Dean’s lack of sleep or his grief, or it’s just him and he’s finally cracked. “No,” Dean says. “I mean it, Sam, no. I need to see if it’s him, and I need to do it on my own.”

“Dean -”

“I’ll call you, if - I’ll call you.” Dean reaches over and hangs up before Sam can protest anymore.

***

They don’t end up meeting in Fort Worth. Having too many people around makes Dean itchy under his skin, in his bones, and Fort Worth is crawling with them. They end up meeting in Crowley, of all places, just outside of it anyway.

Dean gets there first, probably because he took the last hundred miles at least twenty over. There aren’t any shoes in the trunk after all, so he just stands there in his socks on the side of a dusty road, fiddling with the silver knife and the flask of holy water, leaning against the hood, then the trunk, then the driver’s side door, then sliding back behind the wheel. He realizes too late that he’s tracking dirt onto the floor and gets back out. He pours the rest of his untouched coffee out into the grass.

A crappy old truck pulls up after twenty minutes or so, not as crappy as the one Benny used to drive, but crappy and old all the same.

And there’s Benny, who smiles slow and bright as he approaches. He’s got his cap pulled down low over his eyes, but they’re alight with life. “Hey, brother,” Benny says, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.

“You know I’ve gotta -” Dean’s voice shakes and he swallows, gesturing with the flask.

“I know.”

Except then Dean actually has to do it, has to walk over to Benny and hold his arm steady while he -

“Dean,” Benny says, reaching towards him. He almost takes Dean’s hand to steady it but stops just short, which is probably for the best. If maybe-not-Benny were to touch him now, Dean might shatter.

"Okay." Dean watches as if from outside his own body as the silver knife slices a thin gash in Benny's forearm and a splash of holy water washes away the blood that wells up there. "Benny?" he says, heart cracking open with something like grief or relief or longing.

Benny steps forward again, but Dean puts a hand up. "My turn," he says. The cut on his arm stings in the dry air, a bead of blood dripping onto his sock.

And then it doesn't matter because Benny is taking him into his arms and it's just like Dean remembers. Benny smells like something long-forgotten, something newly remembered. Dean can feel Benny's breath on the side of his neck, the too-slow beat of Benny’s heart against his chest, where his own pulse is racing. He pulls away first, keeping a grip on Benny's shoulder to anchor himself. "How -" he starts, shaking his head.

"Where are your shoes, chief?" Benny says with a laugh and thumbs a tear from Dean’s cheek, lets his hand linger there, solid and warm in the sunlight. “And what happened here?” He runs a finger over the cut Dean had completely forgotten about in his mad rush out of the Bunker last night. Early this morning. Whatever.

Dean just shakes his head against Benny’s hand, unable to get the words out. I dropped everything and ran. I can’t believe you’re real. I missed you. I need you. I -

“How are you here?” he says instead, lifting a shaking hand to grip Benny’s wrist before he loses his nerve.

Benny shrugs and strokes over the shell of Dean’s ear with the pad of his thumb, which makes Dean go a little weak at the knees. “Figure it’s because of the big fight. I ain’t complaining, though.” He looks Dean square in the face, eyes crinkling up at the corners. “I missed you, brother.”

“Yeah?” Dean lets his breath out in a rush.

“Yeah.”

Dean rocks forward, just a little. Just enough to tip his forehead against Benny’s, nudging that stupid beautiful newsboy cap off to the side. He’s still holding onto Benny’s wrist, but he slides his other hand to curl into the short hair at the nape of Benny’s neck. He lets his eyes close. This is safe. Here, he’s safe and grounded, missed and forgiven and loved. Benny breathes slow and even, and Dean finally does too. In, out. In, out. Dean opens his eyes to see Benny gazing at him, full of wonder.

“I wasn’t sure if - it’s been a long time,” Benny says, choosing his words carefully, staying firmly in Dean’s space. Or maybe it’s Dean, crowding up against him, unwilling to let go for fear of waking up or floating away entirely.

“Too long,” Dean says. “Too damn long.” His gaze flicks to Benny’s mouth like it has a hundred times before, a thousand, too many times to count, really. Except it feels new. It feels tenuous and fragile with all the time lost between them.

Benny moves in slowly, brushing Dean’s nose with his own, stopping when they’re only a breath apart for one agonizing moment. He runs his thumb up and over the cut on Dean’s cheek, his ear, and Dean shakes from the tenderness of it. “Je t’aime, cher,” Benny whispers into the space between them.

They meet in the middle and it’s gentle and sweet and everything Dean remembered, except better because God is dead and they can have this for the rest of their lives, if they want. They can have this, and this, and this, and Dean breaks away with a laugh even as Benny wipes another tear from his cheek. “I love you,” he says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world because here, now, standing in his stupid socks in a patch of gravel on the side of a road outside Crowley, Texas with their future, his and Benny’s, as wide open as the bright blue sky stretching out above them, it is.

let me know if you want to be added/removed/only tagged for specific things! 💖

#title from wide open sky by the well pennies #i just......love them..........#let them be in LOVE #mine.fic #denny

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pluto-fics · 3 years

Text

Promise (M)

One Shot | GrungeGuitarist!Jimin x Reader

(established relationship)

Genres: fluff, romance, smut

Rating: 18+ (M) for explicit sexual content

Word Count: 9,062 words

Warnings: tooth rotting sweet fluff, profanities, mild dirty talk, smut, light nipple play, dry humping, fingering:fem receiving, unprotected sex (stay safe), slight creampie, softdom!Jimin

A/N: This is a re-upload after I have taken down the original for editing purposes and strongly inspired by the 200414 MiniMoni VLive, because Jimin looked great and I’m weak for that man. You may need to see a dentist after reading this because this is pure teeth rotting fluff, my friends. Jimin is a true softie for (Y/N) here lol.

You still remember the first kiss you shared with him. That one night, when you met on the playground in your neighborhood, sitting beside eachother on the swings as Jimin told you about his big dream for the first time. He wants to succeed with his band. He dreams of a future as a well-known guitarist. And back then you had told him that you did not think of it as a silly wish. You believed in him back then when your teenage self agreed to stay by his side, and you still do to this day. This was also the moment in which he knew – he was madly in love with you.

Looking back on your last years of dating Jimin, you could not deny what a cliche rebel couple you were. Instead of asking you to prom, your boyfriend skipped the whole event with you and his bandmates to break into the football field of your school that night. But you did not regret it one bit. The memory of your friends chasing eachother on the field and lying in the grass to look up at the starry night sky was as vivid and precious to you as no other. That same night you saw the first shooting star of your life while holding Jimin’s hand and begging him to tell you what he had wished for. Yet, he never told you, to this day. Instead, he said “Let’s stay like this forever” and gave your hand a meaningful squeeze with the reflection of the stars above shining in his eyes.

His words from this night turned into a promise you both made and kept.

You were there for each one of his band’s gigs in small bars and scene clubs. You were there for many of their band practices, too. And now you are there to witness their first big breakthrough as the opening act to an increasingly popular indie band.

Holding Taehyung’s bass guitar, you watch his attempt to fix his hair. He must have applied half a can of hairspray by now and you doubt that even a single strand would budge during the show. However, Taehyung wants to be safe. “This is our big deal! The most important performance we have ever had yet!” He wants to give it his all, just like the other members.

You turn and look at Yoongi, who is sitting on the couch in the corner of the small dressing room while tapping his drumsticks onto his thighs in concentration. Having known him for as long as the other boys, you quickly realized that he is wearing his “lucky charm” – his signature worn out leather jacket. He wore it to their very first gig, wore it daily during finals week and he also wore it that fateful night you all skipped prom together. The memories place a nostalgic smile on your lips.

Meanwhile, Jeongguk keeps pacing around the room while mumbling the lyrics to their latest song. He may be the youngest of them all, but he is a real multi-talent. It's almost like magic, the way he is so damn good at everything if he just wants to succeed at it. Eyeing his guitar on its stand next to Jimin’s, you can't help but wonder where your boyfriend, the main guitarist of this band, has gone to. He had left the room about 20 minutes ago, saying he was going to the toilet real quick, but he has not returned since. “Thank you,” Taehyung smiles as he takes his bass from you. “Is Jimin still gone?” He then asks. Nodding, you already make your way to the door. “Yes, but I’ll go check up on him.

Striding through the cramped halls backstage, you make your way to the men’s toilets. And just when you raise your hand to knock on the door, it opens to reveal the man you have been looking for.

“(Y/N)?” He was clearly startled. You sigh in relief. “It’s been over twenty minutes, just what in the world were you doing in there?” you ask, sensing that something was wrong. Seeing the deep red tint on his bottom lip, you can already guess what he was doing. Biting his lip when he got nervous was one of his habits. And judging by how red it was, he must have been gnawing on it like crazy. Since he does not respond, very aware of how easily you could read him and his body language, you decide to ask straight away. “How bad is it?”

You almost see the heavy weight on his shoulders as he says “Very bad… Baby, I can’t mess this up. Not this time. It would ruin everything we’ve worked so hard for.” A compassionate smile finds its way to your lips. “You’re always worrying so much. Jimin, you’ll do great. I am one-hundred percent sure of that, alright?” Noticing the doubtful glimmer in his eyes, you continue “You’ve worked so hard for this very moment. Don’t dread it, enjoy it. When you guys go up on that stage, I want you to relish that moment. Because this is going to be the first time of many more to come.”

His lips slowly curve upwards as he nods slowly, “Alright.” You smile and pull him into a hug, feeling the fast rhythm of his heartbeat as he too holds you close. “No matter what’s going to happen, I am and will always be your biggest fan” you say. Chuckling, he moves a hand to gently cup your cheek and look at your face. “I know. Thank you for being here, (Y/N).” A second passes in which you smile at eachother, before he leans in to kiss you.

“Ugh, are you serious? We’ve only got ten minutes to go through the setlist before we go on stage, so move your ass back into the dressing room before it’s too late!”

The two of you immediately part at the sound of Yoongi’s aggravated voice behind you. You know that he did not mean to be rude, yet the sharp sound to his words really shocked you for a second. Seems like Jimin was not the only one who was nervous to the bone. You see Jimin sending you an apologetic smile before rushing after his hyung. Shaking your head, you make your way to the stage already, not planning to interfere in this special moment your boyfriend and friends would share right before the show now. You could still wish each one of them good luck when they go up there, after all.

From your spot next to the stage you had a perfect view not just on the boys, but on the audience as well. And you could not feel any prouder of your friends. They had introduced themselves a little awkwardly, but as soon as the chorus to their first song started the audience was going completely crazy. They loved it. And you could tell how much joy the boys felt in that moment.

As the songs got heavier, the movements of the crowd did the same. They even formed a small moshpit at some point and tried to shout along to repetitive phrases of the last song’s chorus.

It was clear that Jeongguk did not lie when he told the audience how much he loved them for being so welcoming and wild. And so did the rest of the boys, bright smiles painted on their sweat covered faces.

You almost could not believe your eyes as you watched them on stage. They looked like absolute rockstars already, the sweet boys you have known for such a long time suddenly looking so grown up. Finally, your eyes lock on your boyfriend, cooly jumping onto a platform at the front of the stage to play his solo. As he throws his head back while playing the longest note of his solo, you can see the sweat running down his neck and strands of his once well-styled hair sticking to his skin. In this moment, he looks like the very definition of ‘sinful’, reviving memories of the last time you had seen him like this － in a wholly different context. But these thoughts have to wait.

When they finally play the last tunes of their performance, the crowd cheers loudly – the sound of hundreds of people cheering for your friends and filling your heart with immense joy and pride. You too are cheering as they come down the stairs, sweat dripping from their brightly smiling faces. “That was incredible!” Taehyung exclaims with a voice of true ecstasy. Jeongguk nods, patting his friend’s shoulder as the two of them give you a high-five while passing you to get back to the dressing room. You greet Yoongi with a big grin and loud “You did amazing!”, happy to see him beaming one of his rarest gummy smiles back at you as he slings one arm around you in a rushed hug while thanking you before he follows the others.

The main act is already approaching to go on stage as you almost tackle Jimin the second he gets off of the stairs. “You were unbelievable! I told you you’d do well!” you cheer as he laughs wholeheartedly at your enthusiasm. “I feel like I’m in heaven, did I die on stage?” he asks as he hugs you tight, his entire body still trembling due to the rush of adrenaline.

You laugh and kiss his cheek, then his nose, honestly just aiming at random spots on his face as you do so. “I’m so proud of you, Jimin” you say as he’s grinning widely.

After a few minutes of basically shouting praises and cheers at one another and then making fun of Jeongguk for suddenly crying tears of happiness, the boys watched the concert from beside the stage with you. They even were asked back onto the stage for a few songs during the encore, which the audience clearly enjoyed just as much as the performance prior to that. On your way to the hotel you guys would stay at for the night, you checked the boys’ band profiles online and could not have been any prouder when you saw the follower counts continuously rising on each one of them.

The other band had invited your friends to an after party at the hotel’s bar and after an hour or so you decided to let them have this moment to themselves. Especially since you were already getting tired anyway. So you went to Jimin’s and your room instead. Honestly, you could not believe it yourself either. The four men you have been supporting for more than five years, basically since the day they decided to practice and start a band together, finally are so close to their goal.

You take a quick shower and wrap yourself in the hotel’s bathrobe before drying your hair and starting your basic skincare ritual in front of the mirror above the sink. As usual, you get lost in your thoughts while massaging the cleanser into your skin and rinsing it off, thinking about how much has changed within the past couple of years. You first met Jimin in high school, both of you being friends with your classmate Jeongguk and naturally meeting eachother at his parties or during lunch breaks. That was how you made friends with Taehyung and Yoongi, too. Even though you did not share any classes with even one of them, you became friendly with them very quickly.

This friendship held for many years. You graduated, went to college, shared many memories together – and here you are today.

While you were so lost in your thoughts and washing your face, you did not hear the door to your hotel room as someone entered. So when you come out of the bathroom, you nearly have a heart attack as you see someone rummaging through your boyfriend’s suitcase. Until you realize that it is Jimin himself. “Hey” you greet him casually, a little confused by why he is here and not with the others. Turning around, he beams a smile at you, greeting you back. “Did your after party end already?” you ask and take a seat on the edge of the bed as you watch him collect his sleepwear. “Not really” he says, “I just didn’t feel like staying much longer.”

You are about to ask if something had happened. But then Jimin already stands in front of you with a grin and kisses the top of your head, one of his hands dropping to your exposed thigh. His thumb is slowly rubbing circles into your skin as he looks you in the eyes. “And I thought we could celebrate in a different way tonight…”

There it is. That signature smirk on his lips as he awaits your reaction, just like the smirk he would send your way every now and then when he was on stage earlier. He knows that you like the attitude he holds on stage, that you watched him and his every move closely.

And quite frankly, this is not the first time you are feeling this way. After the boys’ very first gig you nearly jumped Jimin the second he came off stage. You would be embarrassed, but who could blame you? Whenever your sweet boyfriend steps on stage, it is as if he takes on a different persona. His cute eye smiles and giggles get replaced by a sinful smirk and bedroom eyes. Even the way he walks or pushes his hair back looks so different on stage in comparison to the man you know off stage.

You mirror his smirk as you nod and cup his face to pull him in. “Sounds great” you say before kissing Jimin and feeling the upcurve of his lips against your own. His hand on your thigh glides down to the back of your knee as his other hand softly pushes you down by your shoulder. He leans down to capture you against the mattress with your leg on his hip as the kiss grows heated.

Wearing only the flimsy bathrobe, you moan into the kiss when you feel his crotch moving into your own, the rough material of his ripped jeans eliciting a raw sensation against your exposed skin. Detaching his lips from yours, he moves on to your jaw and neck, following an imaginary trail as he leaves wet kisses on his way down. Your hands wind through his messy hair as the back of your raised thigh is being kneaded by his hand.

“Seems like you planned for this to happen tonight” he accuses you with a smirk before untying your robe, wanting to see your body that’s hidden underneath. “Tell me, did you enjoy today’s show?” You nod and help him with the knot in your belt. “Use your words, baby” he then says, stopping your hands by engulfing them with his as he looks at your face expectantly. “Yes. I enjoyed it a lot” you say, not trusting your voice with the way his dark eyes lock with yours.

He nods once, satisfied with your answer and places a kiss on your collarbone as he lets go of your hands and opens the robe. “Did you like my solo performance, too?” he asks, kissing down to the valley of your breasts and sinking his hips to yours again, pressing the prominent bulge in his jeans against your pulsing core. You sigh in pleasure as you whimper. “Yes. Very much.” Now kissing around your left nipple, he moves a hand to your other breast, stimulating your right bud by softly rubbing and twisting it between his fingers. Holding onto his shoulders and arching your back with a mewl, you press your chest to his lips and he sucks on your bud before licking around it. “What part of my performance did you like best, baby?” he asks, his voice nearly a whisper before he continues to work his magic on your sensitive chest. Moaning at the stimulation, you grind your hips against his and say “I liked it all… But your h-hip thrust during “Lie” nearly had me drooling.”

He chuckles and glances up at your face. “You mean this one?” He asks and pushes his clothed crotch into yours by re-enacting the skillful bodyroll he had shown on stage. You moan and nod, wishing for him to finally take off some of his clothes too. “Yes!”

Caressing your sides, he kisses down your stomach before sitting up and looking at your exposed body while licking his lips. "Just how much did you enjoy the show? Did you get wet?” His face does not look as playful as it did mere seconds ago. Instead, his gaze looked almost serious, yet filled with lust. Feeling your cheeks burn, you guess you must be bright red in the face as you avert your eyes and nod bashfully. “I couldn’t help it…” you admit quietly.

When you hear a rustling noise above you, you see Jimin pulling his shirt over his head, the delicate silver necklace with the letters of your name dangling from it getting caught in the fabric for a second, dropping the shirt somewhere near the bed before he leans down once again. His face now just a hair’s width away from yours, he doesn’t give you the chance to fully admire his toned body when he smirks. “If that turned you on already… Then how wet are you right now?” he asks, sounding as if he expects you to answer when his hand slides down your stomach, over your pelvis to where you wanted it most. You whimper at the soft touch of his fingers, your core feeling so sensitive after the rough thrusts of his jeans clad crotch.

“So wet. Just for you” you moan, remembering how much he likes to be reminded that he is the only one who ever makes you feel this way. Jimin likes to be in control during sex. He loves it when you're obedient, like you are his and his alone. Humming at your response, he slowly moves his fingers up and down your slit before drawing small but firm circles around your clit. Gasping for air at the sudden pleasure, you hold onto his arm. Nearly fearing that he might move it somewhere else if you don’t hold it in place. He knows your body like the back of his hand, as you do his. Both of you know every sensitive spot, every little mole and every trick on the other's body, understanding how to make the other feel good. “You’re such a good girl for me, huh? Only having eyes for me, getting this wet only for me…” His voice is deep and his fingers relentless as he stimulates your clit until your thighs begin to tremble. “Do you want me to make you cum like this, baby?” He asks you and inserts a finger into your dripping hole, his lips now next to your ear as he places a kiss on your temple. You moan louder, shaking your head. “No… I want more. Jimin, please!”

He smirks and adds another finger, scissoring and curling them inside of you. “More? How much more do you want?” He asks “More, like this?” and pumps them knuckles deep into your pulsing core before he adds a third finger, stretching you nicely and rubbing your walls to find the spot that has you seeing stars.

The moan of his name that leaves your lips sounds like a beautiful melody to Jimin’s ears as he kisses your cheek. “Please, Jimin! I need you. Need you so bad” you beg, desperately wishing for him to just fill you up with his cock instead.

His fingers push into your most sensitive spot, rubbing it with every following thrust of his fingers as it has you arching your back off the mattress and mewling in delight and frustration all at once. “Please, Jimin!” you repeat, clumsily trying to unbuckle his belt. Chuckling, he pecks your lips and whispers an “Ok” before pulling his fingers from you and locking eyes with you as he moves them to his mouth, sucking them clean one after the other with a low hum. Your breathing picks up as you watch him and you pull him closer by his shoulders. The feeling of his lips on yours is what occupies your mind completely as you share a messy but passionate kiss. Opening his belt and jeans before pushing all of it down his thighs, along with his boxer briefs, Jimin doesn't let off of your lips until the very last second.

You smile at your lovely boyfriend before following the trail of fading marks and bruises you had left on his neck two days ago down, only to swallow at the sight of his fully erect dick, the tip an angry red as it’s leaking pre-cum and the shaft a width that stretches you so deliciously every time. “Fuck” you groan as you drop your head back, craving the feeling of him inside you so bad, it’s ridiculous.

“Spread your legs for me, baby. I want to see you” you then hear Jimin say, as his hands already hold onto the back of your thighs to push them apart. You bite your lip in anticipation and open your legs wide, watching the way he takes in the sight. “Look at the mess you’ve made… And we’ve barely even gotten started …” he groans, watching you gush and clench around nothing in anticipation of what’s to come. He holds onto his shaft and moves it up and down your folds. A movement that has both of you sighing in pleasure. When he aligns his dick with your wet hole, he moves to hover above your face again and your arms wrap around his neck as he pushes into you slowly. Inch by inch, he stretches you further, the drawn-out moan leaving your throat and your clawing hands in his black hair a clear evidence of the blissful feeling it elicits.

“Fuck, you’re always so tight for me, baby. Feels so good” Jimin growls through his teeth, eyes closed as his forehead rests on yours. He is holding back the urge to fuck into you right from the start, you can tell. He bottoms out, dropping his head into the crook of your neck and waiting a second or two for you to get used to his size. When you move your legs to wrap around his hips, he gets the sign and slides out until only the tip is left inside before thrusting all the way back in. You moan in unison as he keeps up a steady rhythm, repeating this motion over and over again.

When his pace reaches a high, his hands move to your thighs, pushing them further up towards your chest to reach deeper into you. You release a broken moan of his name at that, feeling his dick deep inside you as he fills you with each of his thrusts. Sinfully wet sounds of skin hitting skin and your shared moans fill the room. “Shit, I’m getting close” he pants out inbetween lustful grunts and groans.

You nod, implying that you too are nearing the end, unable to use your words as the only sounds leaving your throat right now are euphoric moans and whimpers. Keeping up his fast rhythm, he moves a hand down inbetween you both to rub his thumb around your swollen clit in quick movements. “That’s it, cum for me (Y/N).” You almost shout out when you feel the coil in your lower belly snap as you come undone, your body shaking and your eyes rolling back to the point where all you see is white.

Riding out your orgasm, you feel Jimin holding on your waist tightly and increasing the pace of his now erratic thrusts until he cums with a broken moan, buried deep inside of you as he fills you with several spurts of white. Resting his head on your chest, he pants in synch with you as you both try to recover from your climax. Your hand glides through his hair on the back of his head mindlessly, caressing and massaging his skull until he moves to pull out and fall down beside you on the bed.

“Was this the kind of celebration you’ve been thinking of?” you ask, turning onto your side to cuddle into his bare chest. His arms instinctively wrap around you, holding you close and caressing your back. “No, this was better” he says with a cocky smile and kisses your forehead. “And so much better than any after party, too.”

You close your eyes as you listen to his heartbeat slowly going back to it’s normal pace. “I’m really proud of you, Jimin” you then mumble into his skin. He chuckles. “Did I fuck you that good?” Frowning and pinching his arm, you say “No!”, resulting in a genuine laugh from him. “I mean because you’re so close to fulfilling your biggest dream. You’ve come so far, baby.”

His amused smile becomes gentle as he nods and moves his hand to stroke your head, his hand smoothing down the nest that has formed on your head. “Do you remember the night on the football field?” he suddenly asks, his voice almost a whisper. Opening your eyes before you nod, you smile softly. “Of course…” Playing with a strand of your hair, he goes on. “That night, we saw a shooting star. And I wouldn’t tell you what I wished for.”

You grumble. “Yeah, I’m still curious.” Chuckling once again, Jimin says “Back then… I didn’t wish for our band to succeed. I didn’t wish for a chance as a musician. I didn’t wish for anything that I’d usually wish for.” Listening, you move your head to face Jimin. “All I asked for was for you to stay with me. All the way.”

Feeling the beating of your heart increasing in pace and your eyes starting to water, you were left speechless. “But then… We made that promise. I kept my wish from you, thinking it wouldn’t become true if I told you. That’s so ridiculous, isn’t it?” he says, smiling in shame when he realizes how superstitious this was. You shake your head, giggling quietly. “It is ridiculous, because you definitely wasted a chance for a wish there.” you say, looking him dead in the eye as he mocks offense. “I promised to stay with you forever. And I’m not one to break promises, ever.” Extending your pinky finger, you hold it up to your heads.

“Alright, same for me” Jimin smiles, now an amused curve to his lips rather than the bashful smile from before, and links his pinky with yours before refreshing the seal of your old promise with a kiss to your lips.

"You know... This is the cheesiest thing you have ever said after sex." you suddenly deadpan, grinning at your embarrassed boyfriend's blushing cheeks as you both break out into quiet giggles a second later.

Thank you for reading this One Shot. Let me know how you liked it!

Find more fics like this in my Masterlist and follow @pluto-fics to be updated about future uploads. Read you soon!

– Pluto 🌑

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