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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years

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Words: 4,027 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the Greene farm Warnings: Language, violence, gore, discussions of trauma, typical TWD, nothing super bad this chapter A/N: This is of a miniseries! You can find the other chapters on the Masterlist! Summary: An accusation is made.

Your name: submit What is this?

The next afternoon you were about ready to lose your mind if you had to sit around your camp site any longer. Daryl had gone out searching for Sophia again and you felt useless being left behind. You knew you couldn’t go far into the woods with your hand injured, but you decided to visit the usual places along the edge where you often found wild mushrooms just for something to do. You gathered up your pack and sheathed your knife on your hip, just in case, and headed out.

It wasn’t yet evening but the sun was sinking low in the sky. Andrea was on watch, sitting on top of the RV, when she suddenly spotted a figure emerging from the trees. At first she thought it might be Daryl coming back from his search, but after looking properly through the binoculars she could see that it was Shane and he was stumbling. The front of his shirt looked crimson. “Oh my God. Oh my God! Hey—I think Shane’s hurt!” The camp scrambled into action. Dale passed out the guns and Rick took off in the lead, racing across the pasture as fast as his legs could carry him. Glenn, Andrea, and T-dog were on his heels. When they reached Shane, they could see a long slice across his torso. He was clutching his hand to his stomach and the blood was just pouring out.

“Jesus! What the hell happened?!” Glenn yelled.

Shane groaned as Andrea slipped off the button-up shirt over her tank top and pressed it to his stomach. Shane gripped it tightly. “I was just—” he winced, “—thinking about setting a few more snares. I ran into Y/N out there and she just—I don’t know, man,” he said, looking up at Rick. “She just fuckin’ lost it! She slashed me and I just took off running!”

Everyone was stunned. “You’re saying Y/N did this to you?” T-dog repeated.

Shane nodded. “Ah, fuck,” he groaned. He pulled Andrea’s shirt away from his stomach and stared at the cut.

Rick looked panicked and ran a hand back through his hair, staring at his bleeding best friend. “You’re telling me she did this unprovoked,” Rick pressed him.

“She just snapped,” Shane said through his gritted teeth. “I told ya something was wrong with that girl.”

Rick swore under his breath. “Andrea,” he motioned for her and they stepped away while T supported Shane. “Get him to Hershel but do not say anything about Y/N. You understand? If he asks, just tell him we’re lookin’ into it right now.” Andrea nodded. “Shane, where is she?” Rick asked.

“She wasn’t that far back. Straight in,” he said. He was hunched over. Andrea began leading him back toward the farmstead.

“Glenn. T. Come with me,” Rick growled. They set off into the trees, scouring the ground for any sign of you. There were clear drops of Shane’s blood in a trail leading straight into the woods. They strained their hearing.

As they crept along, searching, Glenn finally spoke what was on his mind. “Rick. Something about this doesn’t feel right…”

“Let’s just find Y/N,” he replied. His tone was steely. At last, Rick spotted you through the trees ahead, crouching down collecting mushrooms. He made eye contact with T and Glenn and nodded. They approached slowly and Rick raised his gun. “Y/N,” he called out. You startled and stood, spinning around to see the three of them coming toward you, armed. “Just take it easy,” Rick said calmly.

You said nothing. What the fuck was going on?

“Take your knife out of your sheath and toss it away,” Rick said. Your brow furrowed and you only continued to peer at him. “Do it, Y/N. Slowly.”

You gulped, but complied, unsnapping the loop over the hilt of your knife and slowly drawing it before tossing it to the side.

“Good,” Rick nodded. “Do you have any other weapons on you?” You shook your head. Your expression was blank, unreadable. Your heart was hammering in your chest. What the fuck was going on? “Glenn, get her knife,” Rick said. You watched as he retrieved your knife from the leaf litter. “Alright. Let’s get back to camp. You’re gonna come with us now, alright?” You simply stared back, your eyes flashing a little as they darted between the three men. “T keep your gun on her.” Rick approached you cautiously and looked you over thoroughly to be sure you didn’t have another weapon. He withdrew his pair of handcuffs and watched you eye them. For the first time he saw a flash of confusion on your face that you couldn’t hide.

“Rick, is that really necessary?” Glenn asked.

Rick’s eyes didn’t leave you. “Just until we can figure out what’s going on, okay?” You held perfectly still and allowed Rick to handcuff your wrists behind your back. He was careful not to bump your injured hand, wrapped up in clean gauze, and careful not to put them on you too tight. “Glenn’ll get your pack. Come on.” You fell into step beside Rick and allowed him to lead you back toward the farm. T and Glenn trailed behind. Your mind whirred the whole way.

Up at the farmhouse, Shane was laid out in the bed and Hershel was being assisted by Maggie, Lori, and Andrea as he cleaned and stitched up Shane’s wound. It needed quite a few stitches, but the veterinarian said it wasn’t too deep and should heal just fine. Surprisingly, Hershel didn’t ask for an explanation yet. Outside, Carol tried to keep Carl busy and distracted. She stood suddenly when she saw the men returning with you and heading straight toward the stable.

Rick opened one of the empty horse stalls and walked you inside. He took the handcuffs off your wrists and you turned to look at him. You both stared at each other for a long moment. It was like Rick was waiting for you to say something, but you just went on staring. Finally, he stepped back out and shut the door, using the handcuffs as a makeshift lock to secure it closed. He handed the key to T-dog. “Take watch,” he said, and T agreed with a nod. You watched the men leave and simply glanced around before sinking onto the soft, clean hay against the back wall. T-dog glanced in at you. You looked small, huddled on the ground, and it was hard for him to believe you were capable of what you’d done to those men the other day and harder to believe you would attack Shane for no reason…

Rick ran up the porch steps and burst inside. “How is he?” he asked. Hershel was emerging from the guest room and headed to wash his hands in the kitchen.

“He’s fine. Lost a good amount of blood but most of the wound isn’t too deep,” he said calmly. “Are you going to tell me how this happened?” He gave Rick a pointed look.

Rick rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m trying to figure that out right now,” he said. He turned and headed straight into the guest room as Andrea and Lori were coming out. Shane looked up from his prone position on the bed and sighed as Rick came in.

“Did you find her?” he asked, pulling himself up slightly against the headboard.

“Mhm. She’s locked up in the stable for now,” Rick nodded. “Tell me again what happened.”

Shane sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I ran into her out there and—and I must have spooked her or something because the next thing I knew she was just coming at me,” he said. “She had her knife out and she just—” he made a slashing motion in the air. “I just got out of there as fast as I could. The look in her eyes… She wasn’t in her right mind. I didn’t even realize at first that I was cut until I felt the blood.”

“Mmm,” Rick nodded, listening. “Pretty good gash.”

“Yeah.” Shane glanced down. “Gonna leave me one hell of a scar,” he said.

“Alright. You just rest up. Let me figure the rest of this out, alright?” Rick said, turning to leave.

“Hey. Look, I’m sorry it came to this. If I hadn’t startled her maybe this wouldn’t have happened,” Shane said. Rick held his eyes for a long moment before nodding and stepping into the hallway, shutting the door softly behind him. Rick headed outside and across the farmyard again, making straight for the stable. He ignored the curious looks from Lori and the others, just kept his head down.

He leaned against the stall door and peered at you through the bars. You were just sitting on the ground, your back against the wall. You were cradling your injured hand with the other. Rick cleared his throat to get your attention and your eyes flickered up to his face. “Shane says you attacked him. He’s got a nasty gash across his chest and stomach. Says you did it with your knife.” You simply kept staring at him, but Rick thought your eyes had narrowed just a little. “Did you?”

He thought he saw the muscle in your jaw clench. “No,” you said simply.

Rick waited for you to say more but you didn’t. “No? That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?” he pressed you. “We grab you out of the woods and throw handcuffs on you and lock you up in a horse stall and all you’ve got to say is ‘no’?” You just stared back at him. Rick sighed and you watched him shut his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. He stepped away, patting T-dog’s shoulder as he went.

Rick was barely two steps away from the stall they’d put you in when Glenn rushed him. “Rick. Rick, something isn’t right here,” he said in a hushed voice. Rick seemed to already be deep in thought. The sheriff’s hands went to his hips.

“She didn’t ask any questions. She just came. She didn’t say anything,” he said softly.

“She hardly talked normally. You expect her to start blurting out questions or dramatically protesting her innocence? We came at her with weapons drawn! She was just attacked by those men two days ago,” Glenn said. “Rick, look. The blade of her knife is completely clean,” Glenn said, holding it out. “She has no blood on her clothes. She just looked—lost when we showed up.” He suddenly reached inside your pack and pulled out a smaller cloth bag. “She was out there collecting mushrooms for the group. There was no blood where we found her. We never even found the spot where this supposedly happened, no sign of a struggle anywhere. And if she snapped like Shane is claiming do you really think she was going to be calmly picking mushrooms still when we got there? Not to mention he’s got like a hundred pounds on her! You’re telling me you think Shane would run if Y/N attacked him?”

“You forgot to mention that her hand was still bandaged up and the gauze didn’t have any blood on it, hers or his,” Rick said. Glenn breathed a sigh of relief. Rick knew. He knew this was bullshit. Of course he knew. “And that’s if she could even grip a knife with that hand. And Y/N is right-handed. That means if she attacked Shane with a slash the way he described, the way he showed me with his hand when he told me, the cut would probably go from the bottom-right of his abdomen up toward his left shoulder. His wound goes from the lower left up toward his right shoulder.” He met Glenn’s eyes.

“Like he did it to himself with his right hand,” Glenn said. “Jesus…”

Rick nodded. “Yeah…”

Daryl came back from another fruitless search thirsty, sweaty, and hungry. He headed toward camp but quickly knew from the gloomy and tense mood that something was wrong. Again. “The hell s’goin’ on?” he asked Andrea.

“Shane says Y/N attacked him. He had to get like forty stitches,” she said.

Daryl’s face contorted with disbelief. “What? Like hell she did,” he growled.

“He’s pretty fucked up,” Andrea said.

“Well, if it is true then he was askin’ for it. Shit, I caught him fuckin’ with her just yesterday.” Daryl glanced around camp and then up toward the farmhouse. “Where’s Rick?”

“I think he’s talking to her right now,” Carol said. “They took her to the stable.”

Daryl let out a string of expletives under his breath and immediately set off in that direction. By the time he got there he was fuming. “Rick! Hey, Rick! What the fuck is goin’ on?” he roared. Inside the stall you were locked into, you sat up straighter and listened. Daryl was back. You heaved a small sigh of relief that he was back and okay. You always worried about anyone going off on their own, but extra worried about Daryl because he did occasionally have a reckless streak. “The hell is goin’ on?!” you heard Daryl roar again.

“Daryl—just calm down,” Rick said.

“Calm down? Yer tellin’ me ya really think she would just attack Shane for no reason? If she did, he fucking deserved it!”

“No,” Rick said.

“She ain’t got—what?” The archer stalled before he could even embark on his next angry tirade.

“No. I don’t believe it,” Rick said.

Daryl’s blue eyes narrowed. “Well, where the fuck is she?”

Glenn pointed. “She’s right inside.” Daryl gave each of them a parting glare and stepped into the stable. T-dog moved aside and Daryl peered in at you. He looked down at the handcuffs that were keeping you in. You immediately climbed to your feet.

“Are ya alright?” he asked urgently.

“Did you find any sign of Sophia?”

He stared at you for a moment before shaking his head. “Yer locked up in here and that’s what you’re thinkin’ about?” He shot a pointed look back at Rick and Glenn, who had followed him inside. “No. Nothin’,” he said sadly. “But are ya alright?”

You nodded. “I’m fine.”

Daryl spun on Rick again. “If ya don’t think she did anything wrong then why the hell is she still locked up in here?”

“It’s not her I’m worried about,” Rick said.

“What d’ya mean?”

Rick looked uneasy.

“Ya think Shane might try somethin’ else? Might try to hurt her? Ain’t he full of stitches now?” Daryl asked.

Rick looked troubled. “I don’t know what he’s capable of. If he tried this, who knows what else he might try.”

Daryl turned to face him. “She just was attacked two damn days ago. She’s got a concussion. She ain’t spendin’ the night in a goddamn horse stall,” he argued.

“Daryl, it’s fine,” you said. “I’ve had worse…”

“Nah. Not happenin’,” he argued.

“I want Shane to think we all believe him,” Rick said. “For now.”

“So, tell him she’s here and keep a guard, but she ain’t stayin’ in there overnight. Ya got her locked up like some damn animal.”

“Daryl, really it’s fine—”

“Nah, it ain’t,” he said fervently. He stared at Rick. “She can stay in my tent. Shane wouldn’t think to look there.” This time Rick considered it. “Keep T-dog here on watch so if Shane does look he’ll think she’s still locked up out here. But that son of a bitch knows better than to come sniffin’ around my spot,” Daryl drawled.

At length, Rick nodded. “T open it up.” T-dog unlocked the stall and you stepped out, hugging your arms around yourself against the chill in the evening air. Glenn handed you your pack and gave you a sympathetic look.

“Thanks,” you nodded to him. Daryl started to lead the way out but Rick stopped him.

“Just make sure she isn’t seen. Shane is… far worse off than I thought he was,” Rick said, and you could see the weight this man was carrying. He’d finally realized the full extent of Shane’s collapse and he didn’t know whether to blame the apocalypse or Shane’s feelings for his wife… in the end the why didn’t matter. Something was going to have to be done about it.

“I ain’t gonna let anythin’ happen,” Daryl said. Rick nodded and you followed Daryl outside into the evening which was now growing dark. “Ya need anything from your spot?” he asked you as you fell into stride beside him. You shook your head. You arrived at Daryl’s camp and he immediately unzipped his tent and nudged his head to indicate you should go inside. “Sorry,” he drawled as he stepped in after you. He clicked on a lantern beside his bed. “Wasn’t exactly, uhh, expectin’ company.” He swept some things aside from the middle of the floor and grabbed some clothes off his cot, adding them to a pile in one corner. “Ain’t much,” he said glancing around, “but s’better than a horse stall.”

You nodded. “Thanks. Again.”

“So, what exactly happened?” he asked, sinking down on a camping chair set up in one corner. He nudged his head in the direction of his cot and you sat down on the edge of it, putting your pack beside you.

You shrugged. “I don’t really know. I was picking mushrooms and the next thing I knew Rick, T, and Glenn were there pointing guns at me. I just gave up my knife and Rick handcuffed me and walked me back and put me in that stall.”

Daryl stared at you intensely, his expression mainly bewildered. “They said Shane had to get a bunch of stitches. So, ya never even saw him?” You shook your head. “Jesus. So, he fucked himself up? Why?”

At first you just shrugged, but Daryl waited as a thoughtful look grew on your face. “After yesterday, I think he really believes I’m actually dangerous… or some part of him does,” you said.

Daryl’s eyebrow cocked up. “Well, ya are dangerous. Ya can handle yourself. But ya ain’t a psycho. Ya wouldn’t hurt anybody here without a damn good reason.”

“I guess so,” you said, thinking back to how you had essentially blacked out and slaughtered those men who were attacking you.

“I know so,” Daryl said.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. If someone—if I even perceived someone as doing something to threaten me… I don’t know,” you trailed off.

“Shane did basically threaten ya yesterday. And ya didn’t murder him. Like I said, ya ain’t a psycho.”

You eyed him for a long moment. “…Why are you being so nice to me?”

The question went straight to Daryl’s heart. The fact that you even would ask such a thing meant you weren’t used to it, didn’t expect it. He could definitely relate to that, purposely keeping expectations low at all times... but it hurt to hear you say it. He thought you were vastly more worthy of some sincere, positive attention than he was. He grabbed a stray leaf off the canvas floor and twirled it between his thumb and forefinger. “I see what ya do for the group. Without anyone even askin’. And I guess, maybe, I can relate to ya.”

You gulped at the nervous tightness in your throat. “What do you mean?” Your voice was soft in the still silence of his tent and it left you feeling like nothing outside the thin walls existed except the droning of the cicadas and chirping of the crickets.

Daryl crumbled the dry leaf between his fingers and watched as it turned to dust. “I’ve had things happen to me, too… in the past, ya know? And I can recognize someone with their guard up ‘cause mine usually is. I guess damaged people just know how to spot other damaged people,” he drawled. He paused and suddenly realized what he’d said. “Not that ya are damaged, uhh, shit…” he murmured, feeling like a complete asshole. But far from looking offended you actually smiled at him and even let out a small laugh. Daryl wondered at the unfamiliar jump of his heart at the sound.

“It’s okay. I am. And I know it,” you said, trying to put him at ease. “But I really think everyone is these days.”

One corner of his mouth twitched up. He watched as you pulled the end of the bandage on your hand free and unwound it, resting it palm up on your knee, staring down at the stitches across your palm. “Thanks for this,” you said. “This is definitely better than the stable…”

He nodded. “Yeah. Ya can take the cot when you’re tired.” He glanced toward the zipped-up entrance. “Gonna plant myself right in front of the door,” he murmured.

“Do you think Shane would—would really try to hurt me?” you asked him. There was no trace of fear in your voice, just a somewhat amazed curiosity.

The archer shrugged. “Honestly, I dunno. If ya had asked me when we were back at the quarry I woulda said no, but… for all his tryin’ to poison everyone to think yer the crazy one, he’s the one who’s slipped.”

You nodded and Daryl was surprised to see that you actually looked sorry, regretful as you thought about him. Despite what Shane was trying to do, you felt bad for him. “He really is in love with Lori,” you said softly. “It is pretty sad when you think about it.”

Daryl was staring at you curiously. “I guess so.”

“It is,” you insisted. “I think Shane is a good man down deep. He’s fiercely loyal… does anything for the people he cares about… but this world takes good people and just—” you broke off, realizing suddenly that you were rambling on a bit and cutting yourself off. You glanced up and Daryl’s blue eyes were fixed on you.

“Just what?” he prompted. He looked genuinely interested in what you were saying.

You shrugged. “Breaks them.” You stared down at the stitches on your palm again. “I think that’s what happened to me.”

“Would ya quit that?” Daryl said sharply. His tone was scolding. “Ya ain’t broken.”

“You don’t know that,” you countered.

“Well,” he said, grabbing a couple nearby shirts and balling them up before positioning them underneath his head as a makeshift pillow as he laid down on the floor. “If yer broken, I’m fuckin’ ruined,” he said. You could tell he was partially kidding, but he was also half-serious and you wondered what trauma was in his past that made him find yours so relatable. Daryl stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankles, draping an arm over his eyes. His crossbow and knife were lying right beside him and he really was blocking the entrance of the tent.

You shifted on the cot, smoothing his sleeping bag beneath you and pulling your feet up off the floor, trying to settle in. You clicked the lantern off. “You’re not ruined,” you said as you laid down on Daryl’s cot, staring up at the faint shape of the curved roof of the tent.

“You don’t know that,” Daryl retorted from his place on the floor, quoting your own words back at you. You could hear a smile in his voice.

“Yeah. I do,” you said softly. Daryl felt an unexpected electric jolt at this assertion from you.

“Night, Y/N,” he drawled.

“Goodnight.”

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chaoticpuff17 · 3 years

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When the Chips are Down

part 13

masterlist

Namjoon calmed down, if only by a little now that both mom and baby were confirmed to be healthy and safe. He was still nervous about every ache and pain she had, but he hovered a little less. He was also more affectionate after their night together and the revelations the following morning. It was as though she’d given him the greenlight for him to smother her in every bit of affection he’d been holding himself back from. In a way it was like the first weeks of their marriage all over again. He brought her flowers, spent his evenings home with her. He ate breakfast with her every morning as if they were a normal happy couple. It was oddly idyllic.

Though that didn’t last long as her due date creeped closer and closer until it finally came and went setting everyone on edge again.

Miss In was convinced that it was a bad omen and was doing everything in her power to try to induce labor. She tried everything from encouraging her to take more walks or serving spicy foods in the hope that they would help bring on labor. Y/N herself was no less anxious for the pregnancy to be over. Her back ached. Her ankles were swollen, and her little girl had taken to sitting very low and uncomfortably in her belly. The more uncomfortable she was, the crankier she became, and the crankier she was, the more on edge Namjoon became.

The pair were sitting in the library simply waiting for any sign of the baby coming when Namjoon received a call on his cell.

“What?” he barked, drawing Y/N’s attention from her book. She didn’t normally pay too much attention to his phone calls, but then again, they very rarely provoked such a strong reaction from him. Namjoon liked to keep most of his business out of the house and way from her. “Take him to the clinic. Is the girl secured? Good. Keep her there and make sure she doesn’t leave.” there was a pause as whoever was on the other side of the line spoke. “I don’t care if you have to put him in a headlock and force him to go. He needs to get checked out.”

The call ended abruptly, and it was clear that whatever had happened had put Namjoon in a foul mood.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, setting her book aside.

“Taehyung’s been stabbed.”

“Stabbed?”

“Aerie, his fiancee, managed to stab him in the thigh. Jimin is getting him to the clinic to get it looked at.”

“She stabbed him?” she asked, pleasantly surprised by the news. From what she had heard. The poor girl didn’t get much freedom under Taehyung’s care. She hadn’t met the woman herself, but she liked her more and more by the second.

“You stabbed me.” Namjoon reminded her grumpily, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“I wasn’t aiming for you.” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “Do you need to go take care of that?” she asked, noticing how antsy he seemed.

“No.” he sighed, leaning back in his chair with a groan. “You could go into labor at any time now.”

“I’m a week past due.” she huffed, glaring down at her belly. Their baby girl refused to make this easy on either of them, and it was incredibly frustrating. “I don’t think this little girl is going to decide to come within the hour it’s going to take you to check on Taehyung.”

“She could.” he responded with a wry but tired smile. “She’s stubborn like her mother.”

“Yes, because it’s completely possible for me to go into labor and have the baby all within an hour.” she was clearly unimpressed, but Namjoon grinned.

“She could. She could take after you and keep us both on our toes, and you haven’t been feeling well.”

“Go.” she leaned back with a groan. “It’s better than you hovering. Your presence is not magical. She’s going to come when she’s going to come, and I’ll be in just as much discomfort when you get back.” she raised a brow waiting for Namjoon to move or say something, but he didn’t. “If there’s any hint of a possibility of labor, I’m sure Miss In or whatever babysitter you have on duty will call you.”

Namjoon was going to protest, but his phone rang again drawing both of their attention. Everyone knew that Namjoon had taken time off for the baby. Getting two calls within a span of five minutes couldn’t be good.

“What?” he growled, already on edge from Taehyung’s call. “What!” he barked, shooting upright, clenching the phone in his hand so hard that Y/N was almost afraid that he would break it. “What do you mean she’s gone?”

“Namjoon?”

“Of course.” he sighed, standing up. “I’ll be right there. Is her tracker online?”

“Namjoon?” she asked again, growing more concerned. She knew from personal experience that running did not have pleasant consequences here.

“We’ll get her back, Hobi. Don’t worry.”

That sent a cold bolt of fear down her spine. She had assumed that it was Aerie that had run. It would make sense after just having stabbed Taehyung, but hearing Hoseok’s name changed everything. If Hoseok was calling about a runaway, then Iyla was probably involved. She’d told her sister to run. She was proud of her sister for trying, but she hated to think of what would happen if she was caught.

“Namjoon!” she demanded, voice rising shrilly as he hung up the phone. “What’s going on?”

“Your sister is just as foolish and stubborn as you.” he growled, striding toward the door.

“Is she alright?”

“She dug the chip from her arm and ran off.” he laughed, the sound harsh and grating with no real humor to it. His gaze on her was dark and brooding a clear indicator that he was positively fuming. “So no, I don’t think she’s alright. She certainly won’t be when Hoseok gets his hands on her.”

“Namjoon!” she gasped, standing from her own chair. “You promised she wouldn’t be hurt. You promised.”

“I won’t be held responsible for the consequences of your brat of a sister’s actions. Whatever Hoseok has planned as a punishment, I stand behind it.” she opened her mouth to protest, but Namjoon was swift to cut her off. “I won’t allow my brothers to go through what you put me through, even if the woman in question is your sister.”

He wasn’t blind. He could see how upset this had made her, but there were rules in his kingdom that not even she could be an exception too. Her sister certainly wasn’t going to be an exception even if it upset her.

With a sigh, Namjoon crossed the room back to her, pressing a kiss to her hair before leaning his forehead against hers. “I’ll be home soon. Try not to worry.”

“How can I not worry? You’re hunting down my little sister like an animal.”

“I have Tae to check on, your sister to find, and Hoseok to calm down. I don’t need anything to happen to you.” She took a step back, refusing to look at him, her jaw clenched. “I’ll call Jungkook to stay with you.”

“If anything happens to Iya…”

“She’ll be safe and sound at home where she belongs soon enough.”

He turned to leave again only to be stopped in his tracks by what she said next. “Did you really think she wouldn’t try?” she called after him. “Can you blame her? None of us asked for this.”

“Whether you asked for it or not, jagi, this is your home, your family, and abandoning your family is unacceptable.”

He strode off leaving Y/N alone in the library her mind whirling with the possibilities. If there was any deity watching over them, Iyla would be able to get away safely, but their family seemed to be particularly forsaken in recent years. She could hope that Iyla would be able to get, to stay away, and if that wasn’t going to be possible, she at least hoped that her sister would be alright when they caught her. She knew full well though that no one was going to update her on what was going on. No one ever kept her updated on Namjoon’s business, and she had a hunch that this would qualify as Namjoon’s business.

“Miran!” she called striding out of the library.

Almost immediately the shy maid popped up as if from nowhere. She was her silent shadow in the estate running to get her whatever she needed and reporting on her to Miss In and by extension Namjoon.

“Yes, buin?”

“I need you to tell me the moment that Namjoon comes back home.”

The maid nodded quickly. She was a mousy girl, but she was endearing and very eager to please. “Is there anything else I can do for you, buin? Miss In says you should take a walk today.”

“She’s said that every day for the past week.”

“Well we can’t argue with Miss In.” a new voice chimed in bringing their attention to Jungkook who stood at the other end of the hall with a wide smile.

“Kookie.” she breathed out a sigh of relief. If there were any of Namjoon’s people she could get to tell her what was going on, it was Jungkook. She moved as quickly as she could, practically throwing herself into the younger man’s arms. This was the first time she’d seen him since she’d been back, something about him being out on assignment, and it was good to see him. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, noona.” he laughed, tightening his arms around her. “It’s good to have you home.” He pulled back observing her bump. “You got big, noona.”

“It’s rude to comment on a lady’s size, Kookie.” she playfully scolded, but took his hand and pressed it to her belly where the baby was moving. “That’s your niece, who refuses to come out.”

“A niece?” his eyes were wide, excited. “Hyung doesn’t tell me anything.” he whined.

“He doesn’t tell me anything either.” she scoffed bitterly. “Have you heard anything? Do you know what’s happening with Iyla?”

Jungkook shook his head. “I know that Taehyung hyung is fine. He’ll recover, but Aerie is going to be in serious trouble when he gets home. But Namjoon and Hobi hyung are looking for Iyla now.”

She sighed disappointedly. “You’ll tell me if you hear anything else?”

“I don’t think hyung wants you to know.” he shook his head sadly. “She’ll be okay, noona. Iyla is tough, like you.”

“She shouldn’t have to be like me.”

“I’m sorry, noona.” there was a moment of awkward silence as neither of them quite knew what to say now. Jungkook couldn’t tell her anything, and even if he could, there was no new information to share. “Why don’t we take a walk?”

“Alright.” she sighed, taking the arm that Jungkook offered. Everyone had been very careful with her especially for the past week. She was having trouble moving because of the swollen ankles and the discomfort they caused, so she was appreciative of the extra support even if it was frustrating.

They walked for a while, catching up, asking and answering questions about the baby, but there was an unspoken tension. Neither of them knew what was going on outside of the estate. It had her worried, and no matter what Jungkook tried, he couldn’t get her mind off of it. It seemed like nothing would, until the first pain hit.

“Noona?” Jungkook asked frantically hovering over her has she hissed in pain half bent over. “Noona, what’s wrong?”

Another pain hit, sending Jungkook into a frenzy as she cried out. “Get Miran. Get Miss In.” she demanded, clutching her belly.

“Noona?”

“Jungkook.” She snapped, looking at him with wide nervous eyes. “The baby’s coming. I need you to get help.”

He nodded resolutely, helping her to the patio so she could sit before dashing into the house to get help followed by the sound of Y/N crying out in pain.

part 14

209 notes · View notes

sunatooru · 3 years

Note

Uh idk if this is weird but like would it be okay to request a head canon where like the reader has a vagina & penis it can be gn or female s/o but like they’ve been very nervous about having sex bc they think their partner will think their genitals are weird (maybe they had a bad experience with an ex). And so they are dating one of the boys and he wonders why you keep swerving around sex so u finally show him why thinking he’s gonna break up with you and be creeped out but he’s like totally,... turned on??? Like he sucks you off while fingering you or like jacking u off while he’s fucking you and thinks it’s so hot as the cums is like dribbling out of your dick at the same time. Mans is in LOVE 😍. If you don’t feel comfortable writing this THATS TOTALLY FINE I was jus trying to see if any of my fav writers would be into it. If you do do it can you do it with kuroo, atsumu, bokuto, and you can pick the fourth!! I’m so sorry this is so specific

Heyyy here is your long awaited request (I’m sorry I’m late). this idea is very hot and I know the boys would get crazy over this. Also I appreciate being one of your favs, thank you xx

warnings: minors dni, 18+ smut content, may be timeskip spoilers, intersex reader (futanari/ futa), intercouse, fingering, blowjob, mentions kitten and daddy and bunny, praise kink?, creampie and just the boys indulging into you

Kuroo

* He’s so lovely to you

* Always holding your hand, kissing your forehead and looking at you lovingly

* And although sex wasn’t necessary for him, he would always wonder why you never got further than making out and leaving hickeys

* Your hands always pushing against his chest when he would carefully slip a finger under your waistband

* And today was no different

* When you break away from his kiss, he worries when you don’t meet his gaze

* “Baby, what’s wrong? Am I doing something wrong?” He questions and you’re quick to shake your head no

* He can see your hesitancy, you’re chewing your lips and you finally tell him. You watch his eyes widen when you tell him you have both sex genitals, and that your previous partner mocked you for it

* He feels a lot in that moment. He’s both angry at the audacity of your previous partner but also curious as to how you look and mostly how you’ll feel

* “Baby, screw them. I don’t care about that. I just want to make you feel good.” And you let him

* He lays you down on the bed and kisses down your neck, your shirt already off and he drags his lips across your chest, grin plastered when you whine as he toys with your nipple

* “So beautiful” he whispers, tongue point out when he slowly pulls your trousers down

* He feels his cock twitch at the slight bulge forming in your underwear

* His own dent forming as he sits between your thighs in only his shorts

* He groan when he takes off your underwear, hips unconsciously rutting forward as he sees your pussy glistening and your pretty cock tip swollen

* “You’re so fuck hot. Look at what you’ve done.” He locks his eyes with yours and watches you trail down to see him free his hard cock out, giving it a few pumps

* He drags his finger against your folds, your own cock twitching at his touch and it’s enough for him to tease his tip at your entrance

* He clenches his jaw when he slides in, eyes shut as he feels your pussy swallow his hard cock

* “Fuck baby just like that.” He groans when you moan our his name, walls tightening when he slides his whole length in

* He places both hands on your hip, holding them down as he begins to rock against you

* “Tetsu- tets- so goo-“ he grins at your inability to form your words, thrust getting faster when you arch your back

* And then he sees your cock stand tall, he doesn’t even think as he wraps his large hand against it

* You yell at his grip, body thrashing in the sheet as he begins jerking you off

* The double stimulation has you stuttering

* And his eyes are just watching how your pussy pulls him in and your cock growing redder with every pump

* “Fuck you’re so hot...so sexy.”

* “Pleas- I.. I’m so close.” And so he moves his hand faster, you tending body sigh you’re about to cum

* And then he sees they way your cum sprays onto your chest, the liquid drops decorating your skin, he feels his balls tighten

* “Shit Kitten!” He moans as he slips out and cums between your folds

* Your now softening cock reaching to touch some of his load and he just knows he’s keeping you forever

Atsumu

* He’s instigated sex a couple of times

* He never got mad when you brush it away though, he really likes you and he wasn’t going to let it come in the way

* And then one day while you’re making out, his hands start to travel down your stomach, almost making it to your crotch if you didn’t stop him

* And now he’s concerned but doesn’t say anything until you tell him the issue

* To say he’s shocked is an understatement

* He’s trying to visualise how you look down their, a cock and a pussy, fuck he instantly got hard

* “That’s not gonna stop me, you know. That’s actually got me fully hard, sweetheart. Ya gonna let daddy give you a good time?” He’s not sure if the image of your cunt and cock made him slip out the ‘daddy’

* “Yes please, daddy.” He groans so loudly when you shyly reply, he drops his face back to yours and kisses you hungrily

* He spreads your thighs apart and starts grinding against you, both of you still dressed

* Your moans has him consumed and he quickly sheds off his shirt, lowering his pants and stripping you that you’re only in your underwear

* A clear outline of the effect he has on you showing

* “Shit babe, who said you could be so fucking hot” he hoots as he kisses down your stomach, slowly lowering your underwear and the small slap of your cock hitting his face has him jumping your thigh

* He licks his lips hungrily, ripping your underwear away and slipping your cock into his mouth

* Your hands immediately goes to his head, fingers gripping his hair as his wet tongue dances around your tip

* “Mmm” he groans and the vibration has you thrusting your hips upwards, dick deep into his throat as he gags

* You try to pull away but he hold you into position, one hand trailing to his own fat cock, stroking it as he makes eye contact with you

* He bobs his head, your whines and whimper making him speed up and when he finally pulls away, he watches as his spit covers your cock, quickly pushing his cock into your pussy, eyes rolled back at the sensation of your tight wet walls hug him

* “So tight, fuck you gonna take my cock like a good bunny?” He demands as he begins moving back and forth

* He hunches over you, gives you sloppy kisses and feels yo it hand travel between where you’re connected

* He bellows a moan as he watches your pump your cock fast, he matches up it pace, his balls slapping against your ass as you use jerk yourself off

* When he feels you tighten against him, he thrust sharply and bellows a groan, eyes stuck on your hand as you arch your back and shoot out a little bit of cum and cums inside you

* “That’s a pretty fucking sight..” he smirks as his cum oozes out

Bokuto

* You actually enclosed to him about not being comfortable with sex yet, not really explaining why but he respected it

* Until one night you’re both rubbing your hands against each other and he accidentally places his hand over your crotch and you tense

* “Huh ? Baby baby what’s wrong? I - I’m so sorry.” Starts apologising over and over until you calm him down

* And then you tell him about having both a dick and vagina, also telling him that you had a bad experience with your ex because of it

* He just looks so confused, why would your ex have an issue at being able to pleasure you in two different ways?

* “Baby, if you let me I’ll replace that memory with something amazing.” He gives you a small smile and you agree

* His eyes grow when he sees your semi hard cock and how pretty your pussy looks

* He kisses you hard, biting your lip as he pulls away

* He grins and then stuffs one of his fingers into his mouth, making sure to coat it with enough saliva before slowly pushing it inside your cunt

* “Aghh..” you roll your hips and he smirks and looks at you determinedly

* He pumps his finger inside you, surprising you when his tongue flicks at your folds

* He synchronises his thrusts and licks, getting faster and faster until he feels you’re wet enough for another finger

* The stretch of him adding another thick finger makes you mewl, you clasp around him, thighs pushing together as his face gets struck between

* But he doesn’t mind, in fact he loves it

* “Taste so good, pretty” he tells you and then he uses his over hand and strokes your cock from the base upwards

* He releases a groan when he feels you pulse both on your cock and pussy

* And then he gets to business

* His fingers continue to fuck your hole, the sounds of squelching motivating him as you cry while he fists your cock harshly

* “You like this baby? Like how I’m fucking you together? Use your words, go on.” He bites his lips when you cry out

* “S-so good don’t stop please Kou...” your nails scratching at his hand when he curls his fingers inside of you

* He feels pride fill him, knowing that no one has made you feel this good, knowing that he’ll continue to make you feel good

* He thinks you look so sexy, sprawled out as you suck his finger into your cunt and wither as your cock is in his tight grasp

* He feels himself straining against his joggers, but he doesn’t care, his goal is to make you scream

* He pulls away from your cunt to spit on your cock, letting it act as lube and gets back to eating your out like his life depended on it

* It’s too much for you. You good, you scream as you feel your stomach tighten and you push his face further into your pussy as you cream around his tongue

* Your chest rising rapidly at the orgasm, you look at his smirking face that’s wet with your juice

* “That was so fucking hot.” He states, lifting his body up and your eyes fixate on his joggers

* A small wet patch growing against his cock

238 notes · View notes

spxllcxstxr · 3 years

Text

Bumps and Bruises • M.M

(GIF is not mine)

Request: Hi! Sorry, May I ask for a Marlene McKinnon x fem!/gn! reader fic, Soulmate AU where they feel each other's pain. — anon

Summary: Two Quidditch rivals finding out they’re something...more (Soulmate AU)

Warnings: Mentions of food/eating, injury description, brief mention of blood

Word Count: ~2k

A.N: NonGryffindor!Reader, this is my first time doing a Soulmate AU so I hope this is ok! It’s hard to find a balance between Soulmate AU and normal AU, but I’m sure I’ll get better with it in practice! The ending is kinda iffy imo, but it’s not terrible. Hope you enjoy!

****

The first thing you feel when you wake up on Friday morning is a flare up of painful throbbing blossoming across the outer part of your right thigh.

You groan, prying your eyes open and pull back your blanket.

The pale light filtering through your curtains is enough to see the grotesque purpling of swollen skin. You poke and prod at your thigh, occasionally hissing out in agony.

The bruise is both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

Its circular shape is something you see all the time. As a Beater on your Quidditch team, Bludger bruises were commonplace. The issue is, and this is where the mark becomes unfamiliar to you, when you went to sleep last night, there was no evidence of any such mark.

This was peculiar because you never had a history of sleep Quidditch, and you’re sure that if you got up in the middle of the night in a trance, at least one of your dorm mates would’ve told you.

And this certainly wasn’t some accidental hitting your bed frame sort of injury. This was ten inches in diameter, black and blue like a ball of pure iron slammed into you. As a self proclaimed Quidditch expert, you’re fully aware of what caused this.

But this conclusion brings up more questions than answers. Sure, you had practice after classes yesterday, but you would remember being hit full force—and you don’t.

But you have no time to sit and ponder over this mystery, you have to make it down for breakfast and then endure hours of classes. If only you could skip ahead to tomorrow’s match against Gryffindor.

You limp your way through the dorm, unable to put the usual amount of weight on your right leg. The room is empty, save for Bedelia, who, as usual, is still snoring underneath her blanket. On your way out, you make sure to wake her up by slamming the door shut as hard as you can.

Hobbling down to the Great Hall with a bag of heavy books slung over your shoulder is no easy feat even when it’s something that constantly happens.

The Great Hall is buzzing, though most of the noise is coming from the Gryffindor table.

The ceiling reflects the morning, bright blue and not a cloud in sight.

By the looks of it, the Gryffindor Quidditch team just got back from their morning practice, still panting and sweaty. For the entire week leading up to a match, James Potter, their captain, makes them practice and go through relentless drills in preparation. When they’re not on the pitch, he’s quizzing them on maneuvers. You’re lucky that your captain and fellow Beater, Morgana Sharpe, gives you the day before a match off, mostly to rest and review. If Potter was your captain he would’ve ended up in St. Mungo’s by now.

Your eyes wander over to Marlene McKinnon, her blonde hair up in a bun, face red and splotchy from practice, bare arms showing off muscle. Her chest heaves under her scarlet top.

“Practicing getting your arses handed to you?” You joke, leaning against their table.

Marlene scoffs. “Oh, you wish.”

Her deep brown eyes find yours, a troublesome twinkle shining through.

“Focus, Marlene, can’t have you fraternizing with the enemy!” James laughs out between mouthfuls of eggs.

“More like flirting with the enemy.” Sirius snorts, leaning closer to Remus, who chuckles into his glass.

“Oi! Piss off, Black!” Marlene snaps, the red on her face spreading.

Dorcas squeezes in next to her, dittany in hand. “How’s the leg, Marls?”

“Aw.” You pout. “Did McKinnon get a boo boo during practice?”

She scowls at you. “Don’t you have a potion to blow up?”

You clench your jaw and ball your hand into a fist. She’s got a point.

“Alright, enough trash talk, you two, leave it for the pitch.” James rolls his eyes.

Instantly, a weight lifts from your shoulders.

“I gotta go eat, anyway.” You smile warmly at your sort of friends. “So I’ll see you guys in class.” You wave before turning to your own table.

You join the rest of your team the table, squeezing through the tight huddle. Parchment is scattered all over the surface, some with crude drawings of maneuvers, some with written stats.

“Right, now that we’re all here,” Sharpe grunts our in her thick Irish accent, shooting you a disgruntled look. “We have a change of plans.”

“Change of plans?” Webb, one of your Chasers, asks. He looks up from his diagram, eyebrows raised.

“Greene’s soulmate took a tumble and landed him in the hospital wing. Can’t play tomorrow’s match.” She scowls, drawing clenched tightly on her hand.

“Again?” Your team groans.

Rupert Greene spends more time in the hospital wing due to his soulmate’s clumsiness than from playing a dangerous magical sport. That’s the way it’s been for the four years you’ve known him, and you have a hunch that it’ll never change.

“So we’re gonna have to put in Knight? Against Gryffindor?” Webb cries out, eyes wide. “No offense, but he isn’t ready to take on those pricks!”

Sharpe runs a hand through her dark brown hair. “Well, I guess we all just need to pray to Merlin some Gryffindor gets knocked off their broom.” She sighs.

The news of Knight replacing Greene for the match against Gryffindor puts you in a sour mood, making the bruise on your thigh throb more painfully.

You march through the corridors, face contorted in a permanent frown, barely paying attention to your lessons. You do, however, manage to keep your potion from exploding, which Slughorn is thrilled about. Match notes and plays take over your free time, pushing all your homework to Sunday, quickly deciding that this match is far too important. Marlene sticks her tongue out at you whenever she gets the chance as she hobbles through the corridors or looks away from Flitwick in your shared Charms class.

Sharpe drags you and the rest of the team up to bed at nine, lecturing you all about a good night’s rest. You roll your eyes, but you do only spend half an hour studying moves before heading to bed.

You wake up jittery.

You’re always nervous the morning of normal Quidditch matches, but this isn’t a normal Quidditch match. Gryffindor has gone undefeated for the entire season so far, and you just need to beat them. You crave to watch the smug look fall from James’ face and the cocky attitude that Sirius is infamous for crumble. You want to win. At the same time, though, you’re hesitant to see the frown on Marlene’s face. Those perfect lips deserve to shaped in a perfect smile.

Your bruise isn’t as irritated as yesterday. It’s still black and blue, but you really need to dig your thumb into it for it to hurt.

You stretch, listening to your joints pop before strutting down to the Great Hall to join the rest of your team.

Taking a deep breath before making your way through the threshold, you try your best to calm down and radiate confidence. You crack your knuckles and make your way to your table.

Marlene throws you a playful glare across the room, which you teasingly reciprocate.

Breakfast is a quiet affair for your group. Feet tap impatiently against the stone, nervous habits running wild.

The weather is perfect for Quidditch. There’s a slight breeze and a couple fluffy white clouds drifting through the blue sky, providing the occasional blotch of shade. It reassures you and calms you down on your walk down.

Sharpe gives her usual pep talk in the locker rooms. It’s all about blood, guts, and glory, and how we better not mess this up for her or else “she’ll haunt us from the great beyond.” Knight is white as a sheet, trembling underneath his robes.

The crowd roars out from the stands just above, your cue to make your grand entrance. Brooms are taken off their positions in the wall and in a single filed line, you all follow Sharpe out onto the pitch.

“And here it is, everybody,” Remus’ voice calls out over the chaos. “Captain Sharpe, (Y/Ln), Webb, Byrne, Spade, Opal, and their reserve, Knight!”

Your house cheers louder at your introduction, your eardrums pounding. You smile and nod at the crowd, excitement bubbling up inside of you.

“While the two captains are taking positions and shaking hands,” You hear as you mount your broom, Potter and Sharpe facing each other. “I have been paid quite a significant amount to say that according to James Potter, Lily Evans looks absolutely gorgeous today—“

“That has nothing to do with the match, Lupin!” McGonagall cries.

“Godric, Minnie. I’m just doing some adverts, it’s all good. No need to—“

A large thwack echos throughout the pitch, but you’re too wrapped up in Hooch blowing the whistle.

Quickly, you soar up in the air, Beater’s bat in one hand, chasing after your teammates to defend them.

You barely hear Remus over the whistling of the wind and your own grunts.

You watch Marlene laugh after she bats a Bludger away from James, the bat giving off a wicked crack. You’re momentarily mesmerized by her figure. How her tongue peeks out in concentration and her ponytail bounces wildly in the wind.

A moment passes and your arm erupts in pain, and to add onto that, you’re hurtling towards the grass.

You clutch your arm and brace for impact, breath being forcibly ripped from your lungs. Tears well in your eyes from both the pain and the air lashing against your body. Your Quidditch robes flap wildly behind you.

The landing, however, isn’t that bad. You end up in the grass, your bad arm protected. You assume Dumbledore is the one to thank.

You let out strangled pants, sky spinning around you, a piercing whistle sharp against your ears. Your arm screams in agony.

“(Y/Ln)!” Sharpe calls out, broom clutched in one hand. “You alright?” Her face shines with sweat.

“Bloody hell, she’s got quite the swing.” You groan, face contorting in anguish.

In the corner of your rotating vision, you watch red and gold blurs crowding around someone else.

Madam Hooch and the rest of your teammates are talking, but you can’t understand a word they’re saying.

Tendrils of black fog enter your vision and suddenly you’re out cold.

You recognize the hospital wing bed immediately. It’s firm, but not unbearable, the white cotton sheets rubbing against any exposed skin.

“So (Y/Ln) and McKinnon, eh?”

It’s garbled and you’re unable to place the voice, but it’s understandable.

“What’s this ‘bout me and McKinnon?” You manage to slur out, eyes blinking open, the figures above you blurry.

The world gradually clears itself up, your teammates surrounding your bed. Your left arm is wrapped tightly to your chest with a white cotton sling. The pain is dull, but it’s the most noticeable feeling present.

“Ah, well...” Webb scratches the back of his neck, averting his eyes.

“They’re talking about how I finally felt my own strength.”

Slowly, you turn your head to see Marlene sitting up on her bed, carefully watching over you. Her friends surround her, knowing smirks gracing their faces.

Her blonde hair is a bit of a tangled mess from the wind, but her smile is blinding in the light.

“You mean...” Your eyes widen in shock.

Marlene nods her head. “Soulmates.”

You bite your lip in response.

“I mean, it was pretty obvious, wasn’t it?” Sirius asks, looking between his friends for approval. “They literally wake up covered in bruises after like every Quidditch match!”

“Shut up, Pads!” Remus hisses, smacking him on the leg. “They’re having a moment.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and holds his hands up in mock surrender.

Your eyes drift to your thigh where the mysterious bruise was.

“I’m guessing you got hit by a Bludger during practice?” You ask.

“And you’re the one that gave me that broken bloody nose during detention!” Marlene exclaims.

You nod shyly, remembering when Knight accidentally threw the Quaffle at your face during a late night practice.

“Are we really that bloody stupid?” You laugh.

“You want a real answer or...?” James starts, repositioning his glasses.

Marlene shoves James off her bed, and he yelps before ungracefully tumbling to the floor with a crash.

“Guess this is our cue to leave the two stupid lovebirds alone.” Lily giggles before patting her friend on the back and leaving, the Marauders and your own team trailing close behind her.

Because the bones in your arm are practically shattered, you’re confined to the hospital wing for at least another day, but with Marlene at your bedside, it’s been made bearable. You talk about all those mysterious injuries you’ve acquired over the many years and learn the extent of your idiocy.

With various bumps and bruises to match, at the end of the day, the two of you are much more than Quidditch rivals.

#marlene mckinnon x reader #marlene mckinnon #Marlene McKinnon fanfiction #Marlene McKinnon fluff #the marauders x reader

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toosicktoocare · 3 years

Text

AU where the Avengers don’t know that Spider-Man is Peter Parker just cuz

inspired by a fantastic ask about concussions from @carley-carley-carley (hope it’s okay that I tagged you!)

“Young man? Young man, are you alright?”

Grunting, Peter drags his head away from the insistent tapping against his cheek, an almost rhythmic, steady pressure that jerks up his temple to spread across his forehead. The pressure isolates to the base of his skull, where the pounding seems to be at it’s worst, and it holds ground there, pulsing uncomfortably.

“Young man, you fell from a four-story apartment building.”

Peter’s brows furrow at this. He wants to object because he’s Spider-Man, and a fall like that is minor compared to the novel of inuries he’s suffered alongside the Avengers. He opens his mouth to do just that, to explain to this woman that this is nothing, that he’ll walk it off, but a pricking senstation hot against the back of his neck hotwires to his eyelids, forcing them open.

He’s aware of two things: One, the woman leaning over him is far too close, and she’s doubling and tripling before him, going in out of focus against his blurry eyes. Despite hazy around the edges, she looks concerned, if the deep-set wrinkles etched into her forehead are anything to go by. Two, there’s a small crowd surrounding him, and while Peter’s not particularly claustrophobic, right now, it feels like each body is pushing against his lungs, and his stomach. When the hell did he start feeling so nauseous?

“Young man, do you know what day it is?”

No, Peter thinks flatly to himself. He really doesn’t. He could dig through his mind, eager to push out logic, work through his mental calendar that operates soley around when homework assignments are due, but there’s a solid rock of pulsing pain blocking all normal, brain functioning. “Monday?” he tries weakly. He’s faintly aware that his own voice sounds hollow and distant, but more so, he’s distinctly aware of the saliva pooling in his mouth, a copper taste that coats against his tongue.

Peter didn’t think it was possible, but the woman somehow frowns deeper at him, and she climbs to her feet, body rigid. He supposes it’s not Monday after all.

“Call an ambulance! He’s concussed.”

Peter shoots forward into a sitting position, and the pain in his head bursts like a balloon. The redistributed pressure is blinding, and Peter drops his face into his cupped hands with a low groan that threatens to bring more than just air up his throat.

He wants to assure them that a hospital isn’t necessary, that his enhanced healing defies medical science, but when the white light coating his vision dies down to an unsteady sway of darker, blurring colors, he only sees scraped up palms before him, not gloves. He rips his hands away, and one, quick look down shows that he’s sporting a blue NASA hoodie and blue jeans and that he’s definitely not wearing his signature red and blue Spider-Man suit he thought he had on.

The hell?

He glances to see his backpack beside him, thankfully still zipped up and intact. He tries to wrack his brain, briefly craning his neck up toward the rooftop he assumes he fell from, only to quickly jerk his gaze back down when the setting sun seems to shine past his eyes to burn at his skull. He can’t remember why he was up there in the first place, especially since he’s in civilian clothing. He can’t remember much of anything, now that he dwells on it.

“Young man, by all accounts, you should be dead.”

Peter makes to reply, his clenched jaw unhinging almost painfully, but a different, probing jolt sparks up his spine to the back of his neck, and he’s climbing to his feet, pale, wobbly, just as two, new voices somehow carry over the wall of chatter around him.

“What’s going on?”

“Make way. Crowds typically mean one of two things: some weird alien contraption that equals bad news or a dead body, either of which I can’t really fit into today’s schedule.”

Even if Peter didn’t have the two voices memorized, down to the timbre, the sudden, loud squealing from the crowd of “Tony Stark!” and “Captain America!” is enough to have him eyeing for a quick exit, determining if he can duck his way through the pressing bodies.

“This young man fell from the roof!”

“So,” Tony draws out, his voice growing closer. “Dead body it...” He trails off as he nudges around a few people until he’s breaking into the center of the circle with Steve hot on his heels.

“Well, hello there, not dead person.”

Peter wants to shrink away from Tony’s gaze. He wants the ground to crumble and break and swallow him hole, to rid himself of the awkward fear and warm embarrasment that flushes his cheeks. He can feel a thick, lukewarm liquid dripping down his neck, and he doesn’t want to look down to see the concerning pool of blood at his feet.

“Son, are you alright?” Steve shoves forward, and on instinct, Peter backs away and brings a hand to the back of his neck, a nervous tick, but he pulls it back almost immediately, faintly frowning at the splattered red coloring his palm.

“You fell,” Tony starts, and Peter knows this tone well as it’s Tony’s signature speculation tone, where he dissects the situation around clipped, short sentences.

“From up there?”

Leveling his gaze, Peter huffs out a shaky sigh, wincing slightly as Steve prods lightly at the back of his head.

“Um, yeah. I guess?”

“You guess?”

“I don’t really remember,” Peter laughs awkwardly, clears his throat. He can sense the tension that builds behind him, can almost feel the way Steve’s muslces grow rigid.

“He’s concussed, Tony. Maybe save the interrogation for another time?”

“Sure,” Tony says, and he steps forward, carefully avoiding the puddle of blood. “But, you can’t blame me for finding this entire situation unsettling, Steve. This kid fell from the roof of a four-story building, landed on his back, and now he’s standing, and aside from the fact that he looks a tad worse for wear, he’s alive?”

“I’m right here,” Peter mutters under his breath, and Tony nods and crowds too close to him.

“You are. Standing. Speaking. Alive. Three things that don’t exactly pair well with falling off a roof.”

Peter’s head hurts, bad. Deflect, he thinks. But how? “I’ve always been told I come from a family of hard heads,” he mumbles around a hollow laugh, and, he thinks, it definitely sounds as stupid out loud as it did in his head.

Tony’s gaze, in response, his sharp, and narrow, and Peter unconsciously closes his eyes. He can feel the ground rippling below his feet, and he sways, steadying only when Steve wraps an arm around his shoulders.

“Enough, Tony.”

“How much would it take to get you to come back to our labs so I can run some tests-”

“-Enough, Tony.”

Steve’s voice vibrates all across Peter’s body. It’s a powerful yet familiar feeling that makes him shudder slightly.

“What’s your name, son?”

Peter contemplates lying, maybe even using Ned’s name. But, he’s been careful as Spider-Man thus far, so, he thinks, he’s not at risk by sharing his real name. Besides, it’s not like it’s uncommon. “Peter,” he says after a moment.

He could hear Steve talking beside him, but an unannounced rush of blood in his ears begisn to drown out close sounds. He grows hot suddenly, or maybe, he’s been getting steadily hotter this entire time and he couldn’t fully realize. His body’s shaking a little harder now, inconsistent trembles jerking his limbs. His throat’s tightening, and when he realizes what the hell is happening, he’s shoving away from Steve and hunching over to vomit.

He feels worse when he finishes. He’s exhausted, and his head is positively throbbing. Yet, there’s a color of clarity flicking across his mind. Through the thick pain, he can think a little clearer, see a little clearer.

“Peter?”

“Gross, kid. Time to go to the hospital.”

“No!” Peter whips around, staggers, and unconsciously reaches out to Steve’s arm for support. “I mean, that’s not necessary,” he clarifies at the two, wide expressions looking at him expectantly. “Really. I’m already feeling better.” To punctuate his point, he lets go of Steve’s arm and bends down to snag his backpack, clutching it close to his chest. “See, totally fine. No passing out or anything.”

On the back of his head, he can already feel his broken skin moving, closing torn gaps, slowing the bloodflow. He figures he’s got about an hour until it’s completely healed, and he’d rather not be around two Avengers when it happens.

“I’ll just go home and... rest! I’ll rest. Scout’s honor.” He mock salutes, and then he spins on his heel and starts pushing his way out of the crowd, missing the furrowed gaze from Tony. He swallows thickly when he hears two sets of heavy footsteps behind him.

“Peter, wait!”

“I’m with Steve on this one, kid. I can’t, in good conscience, let you disappear in this condition. I can see the headlines now. Iron Man Abandons Helpless Teen.”

“Tony...”

Peter keeps walking ahead, keeps his gaze locked to the sidewalk below him as Tony and Steve take either side of him. “My apartment’s just a few blocks from here,” he mumbles, focusing on the rhythmic pound of his shoes on concrete and not on the hot pain pushing all across his head or on the fact that he can’t shake a couple of Avengers, something he’d never consider as Spider-Man.

“Do you not like hospitals, Peter?”

Steve’s question is a gentle prod, and Peter goes with it, shrugging.

“Not really,” he offers, keeping his voice low, indicating he doesn’t want to pursue the conversation, and luckily, Steve takes the bait and drops it. At least, Peter thinks, they’ll stop insisting he seek out medical assistance now. Though, he does feel a little bad lying to Steve; he doesn’t like lying, unless it’s to egg on Tony’s nerves as Spider-Man. But to Steve? It feels morally wrong, and he thinks he should seek out a confessional for his sins later.

“Not interested in having a bunch of doctors deem you a medical miracle?”

“Definitely not,” Peter groans, finally dragging his gaze up until he’s looking forward and not at the scuff marks on his shoes. His memories, though fuzzy, are filtering through cracks in the thick mud that’s currently his mind. He can remember standing atop the roof, maybe a little too close to the edge. He was getting ready to rip open his backpack for his suit, and then he remembers losing his footing. He remembers the back of his foot hitting the edge of the roof, and everything goes dark after that.

Embarrassing, he thinks. He’s the only super hero he knows clumsier than a newborn deer. Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize he’s reached his apartment until his leg muscles are dragging to a stop on habit. He looks up, craning his neck, and sighs. “Well, this is me. I appreciate the escort, but I’m good now.” He starts up the steps, sighing louder when he hears the two follow.

He makes it all the way up the steps to his apartment door and unlocks it before he spins on his heel, a second, longer sigh pushing past his lips. “Look, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but don’t you both have... bigger things to do? Iron Man and Captain America things?”

“You busy, Steve?” Tony asks, and Steve mutely shakes his head before following Tony into the apartment.

Groaning, Peter rubs at his forehead and shuffles inside, knowing full and well that both are incredibly busy on an hour-to-hour basis. He’s quick to slip his bacpack into his bedroom and close the door before he steps back out into the living room to see Steve motioning toward the couch with a pack of frozen peas in hand.

“It’s all you had.”

Shrugging, Peter drops down flat onto the couch, sitting up briefly so Steve can slip the bag of frozen peas behind his head. He shivers on contact because shit, it’s freezing, and Steve’s reaching over him to snag the blanket draped behind the couch. He hums absently when Steve tucks it around him, and then he cracks an eye open to see Tony staring down childhood pictures with a familair set of glasses on.

“Mr. Stark?”

“Huh?” Tony whips around, already plucking the glasses from his face.

“Really, Tony? How much info is FRIDAY feeding you right now?”

“What?” Tony drags out, both hands raised in defense. “Kid fell off a roof and walked away. Sue me.”

“I promise, Mr. Stark, I’m not even remotely interesting,” Peter tries, and Tony raises a single brow his way.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Peter’s kept his identity tightly under wraps thus far, and he knows childhood pictures or pictures with May aren’t going to reveal that he’s Spider-Man. Still, it’s annoyingly intrusive, and he sits up with a groan.

“If I swear on my best friend’s lego model death star that I’ll stay put, rest, and wake up every few hours to monitor my condition, will you both please leave? You really don’t need to hang around here; I know you both have to be really busy.”

“Your best friend has a lego model death star?” Tony starts, isolating that one fact. “Is your best friend in second grade?”

Peter clambers to his feet, stalks over to his door, and yanks it open. “We’re the same age, and I happily helped him with it,” he challenges, motioning toward the doorway.

“Easy, champ,” Tony says around a laugh as he and Steve start toward the door. “If you and your friend want to play with legos, that’s none of my business. Just try not to fall off any more roofs because, unfortunately, that is my business.”

“Yes, sir,” Peter says, offering a nod as the two step out.

“Consider going to a hospital, Peter,” Steve adds. “Maybe take your friend with you for comfort.”

Yeah right, Peter thinks. Ned can’t even handle the thought of a needle without feeling faint. Still, he nods, if only to appease Steve, and then he’s closing the door and sinking against it with a low sigh. He listens for a long time until he can no longer make out their footsteps, and then he’s ignoring the pressure in his head and running to his room to don his suit.

Concussion or not, Queens still needs the friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man.

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marvel-and-mischief · 3 years

Text

Daisies

Part of my Floriography Series

Pairing: Pero Tovar x F!Reader Words: 2700 Warnings: gambling, swearing, alcohol, rough handling by guards, allusions to prostitution (it’s part of a scam), lighthearted punishment in the stocks Synopsis: Pero seems to always be around at the wrong time to sabotage your scams and join in with your punishments. Enemies to Lovers (sorta)

Daisies: attachment, new beginnings

💐

“Now remember, ten or above wins you double your stake, below ten and your stake is mine.”

The scruffy drunkard sat opposite you let out a bellowing laugh, the nasty stench of his rotten teeth hitting your nostrils. His movements sloshed the tankard of mead in his hand, spilling some of its contents on the table between you. You had to hold back your look of disgust and smile through the uncomfortableness.

“I won’t lose. Throw ‘em, lady,” he slurred. You had to fight off the smirk threatening to show on your face as you shook the two, six sided dice in your right hand. You had nothing to worry about, the dice were weighted, favoring the lower numbers and therefore guaranteeing your win every time.

“Alright, but when you win you owe me a drink!” you winked cheekily at your mark, catching his eye whilst you threw the dice on the table. The more you distracted them the less chance there was of getting caught in your scam.

The dice came to a stop and you both looked down at the same time; a three and a four, earning a groan of disappointment from the few onlookers that had gathered to watch.

“Better luck next time,” you grinned, gathering up your dice and winnings as the man muttered something unintelligible and grumpily left the table, “anyone else want a go?”

“I will.”

You froze at the voice in your ear and saw the figure of a familiar man take the recently vacant seat opposite you. Pero Tovar always seemed to show up in your life when you least wanted him to. He was an annoying ghost and you could never shake off his haunting. You should gather up your earnings and leave but something kept you rooted to the table. And the longer you took to contemplate your next move, the more the drunkards in the tavern wanted to know what was going on. Soon you’d attracted quite the crowd.

“I said, I want a go.”

You looked into his brown eyes, the ones that sparkled with humor, always at your expense.

“It may be too difficult for your small brain to understand how to play,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Then let us play a different one. I will throw the dice, and if the total is lower than ten, I win every penny you have taken tonight.”

The bastard. The only reason he would suggest playing it that way was if he knew how you were cheating the game. You clenched your jaw in frustration.

“I think I am ready to take my leave-“

“But we have an audience!” Pero smirked, raising his voice and waving a hand at the tavern full of people who hurrahed, eager for you to throw the dice. You were cornered, physically by the wall of people around you and mentally by Pero who knew if you refused the game it would look suspicious.

“Fine,” you grumbled, faking an over the top smile, twirling the dice in one hand and clenching your other hand into a fist under the table. Stay calm, don’t show him how much he was getting to you, you told yourself. You’d chase him down afterwards and with a knife to his throat take your money back. That would show him.

You dropped the dice on the table and leaned back in your seat to see Pero staring at you. You didn’t need to see the dice to know you had lost, the weights that usually worked for you were against you this time, and the tavern goers yelled in surprise and delight, some were even joyfully patting Pero on the shoulder in congratulations. All the while Pero was smiling at you, self satisfied at playing you at your own game.

You pulled the drawstring bag off your hip and threw it across the table, hitting Pero in the chest.

“Better luck next time,” Pero mocked your earlier words, “would you like a drink to drown your sorrows in?” Pero threw the bag of coins in the air and caught it successfully.

“Oh bugger off, Pero,” you hissed, leaving the tavern in a huff. You didn’t want to see him again this night. You’d get him back next time.

The boy was young, still a teenager but old enough to know better. His clothes were of the finest materials, gold threads held the pieces together and added beautiful patterns to the front and shoulders of the jacket. He even had a long, shiny feather in his cap. He stuck out in the crown like a sore thumb.

You had been scouting the market for marks all morning and he was the only person you thought worthy of relieving of coin. He had a guard with him, who was more interested in looking at the women walking by, and his coin purse was dangling enticingly down by his hip. It would have been much easier for a child to run along and snip the string with a knife but the only ones you’d found were hand in hand with their parents. So you were on your own.

You were hidden down the side of a building, in the shadows and away from prying eyes. Or so you thought until you caught the flash of a grin out the corner of your eye.

Pero Tovar was mirroring your position on the other side of the marketplace, the wealthy man in the middle of you both. Pero moved his gaze to said man and it was then you knew he was after your mark.

It had been only a couple of nights since he took all your money at the tavern and you’d be damned if you were going to let him swindle you of even more coin. You had to get to the mark before Pero did, by any means necessary.

You tried to plead with him, subtly shaking your head but all Pero did was lean against the wall and offer you a warning glare.

The mark was buying a trinket from a stool, handing his purchase over to the guard to carry and looking around for where to go next. This was your only chance.

You untied the string at the top of your tunic, letting it open up to display your chest more than you would usually allow. But you needed a distraction and a way of getting close to the man without suspicion. You pulled out the small scissors from your boot and held them comfortably in your dominant hand, shaking down your sleeve to keep them out of sight.

You tried to ignore Pero but as soon as you slipped out of the alley he did the same, heading directly for the wealthy man.

Unfortunately whilst you were gaining speed through jogging movements, Pero’s purposeful strides were larger than yours, meaning you both reached the man at the same time.

“Sir, could I offer my services-“

“You seem too respectable to want the services of a harlot-“

“Harlot? Excuse me, I am so sorry, this ruffian-“

“Ruffian! You should show some respect-“

Your attempts to get close enough to grab the purse were scuppered by Pero subtly pulling you away with a hand around your waist. And as much as you tried to pry him off you, he was strong and stubborn, rendering your scam completely useless. The wealthy man’s guard dragged him away with a growl in your direction to stop you from pursuing them.

“What was that!?” Those words had been on the tip of your tongue but Pero spoke them first. You looked at him with a confused frown.

“What?”

“What were you thinking? That guard could have killed you.”

“Oh do not pretend you care for my health, you wanted that purse to yourself.”

“I did, but when I saw you were going to get yourself in serious trouble I had to come and save you instead of getting the coins for myself. You are welcome, idiota.”

You stared at Pero in disbelief. Was he expecting gratefulness? You couldn’t quite believe what he was saying.

“I have been doing this for years and I haven’t gotten caught once. I would appreciate it if you didn’t save me again,” you huffed, tying up the strings of your shirt before stomping away from him.

If you never saw Pero Tovar again it would be too soon.

You were mad. But you were mad that Pero was right more than you were mad at your actual predicament.

You had been playing a simple card trick on an unsuspecting traveller, one that you’d played hundreds of times, it had never gone wrong. Somehow the extra card up your sleeve (the one you used to cheat with) had slipped out and fallen to the floor and a guard that had been watching had spotted it and arrested you before you could run.

So that was how you found yourself in the stocks all morning, set in the middle of the courtyard of the castle grounds for everyone to laugh at. A few delighted children had thrown various rotten vegetables in your face, most adults had taken pity on you and walked on by. Your back was hurting from being hunched over, your feet were aching on the hard, stone ground. But none of that compared to the pain of seeing your foe being dragged towards you.

“Please, I beg you, this is punishment enough, do not put that man anywhere near me.”

“Anyone would think you hated me,” Pero grumbled, humor in his voice despite being guided towards his punishment.

You felt the top half of the stocks lifting off the back of your neck, a second of relief, as the guards situated Pero next to you. His hand was so close to yours you could touch him, not that you wanted to. The stocks were dropped down and locked in place and the guards left you alone.

“You bring me nothing but bad luck,” you mumbled, huffing as you shifted on your feet.

“Because I was not there to save you this time?” You could hear the smirk in his voice which irritated you.

“Because I have never been caught, and then you start showing up everywhere I go and I am caught, and to make things worse, I have to be punished next to you!” You laughed humorlessly, narrowly dodging a handful of what smells like horse manure. You shoot a glare over to the man who threw it.

“Carino,” Pero clicked his tongue and you felt his hand sweep against yours, “these rotten potatoes are preferable to your whining.”

You gasped and tried to flick at his hand but it only hurt your bruising wrists.

“When I get out of here I am going to find the biggest vegetable, fresh from the ground, and throw it at you.”

Pero laughed a large, belly rumbling laugh that surprised you.

“Why are you laughing?” you asked, baffled at his sudden turn of emotions, but it didn’t deter him from laughing more.

It was the second plop of manure hitting the top of your head that had you joining in with Pero. The ridiculousness of the situation, the bickering between you, and your damn hand kept knocking into his. It was all so silly.

You spent the rest of the morning in fits of giggles with the man you thought you hated.

You were thrown down the steps of the dungeons, your knees hitting the hard, dirty floor before you were hauled back to your feet to be taken to the cell that would be yours for the night.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” was the voice that greeted you. You saw him sitting in the corner of the cell, a growing bruise on his jaw and stripped of his leather outer garments. He looked softer in just a shirt and breeches, more vulnerable but also kinder. Like any ordinary man, not the pain in the ass you knew him to be. You chuckled at the sight of him.

“Your life would be boring without me,” you teased, but Pero nodded his agreement. You plopped down next to him with a sigh, stretching out your legs and feeling the soreness of your knees as you rested them. You rubbed at the tenderness over your skirts.

“Are you hurt?”

“Some scrapes, that is all,” you assured him, but his eyes lingered where you were soothing your burning knees, “how did you end up in here?”

“Not my fault,” you raised a sceptical eyebrow, “a drunkard started a fight with me.”

“And where is this drunkard?” you asked suspiciously, looking through the bars into the other cells, all of which were empty.

“He passed out. The guards did not want to drag his useless body in here.”

You hummed, clearly not believing his tale. He rolled his eyes at you, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing.

“And you?”

“Hmm?”

“How did you end up in here?”

You sighed, remembering what had happened.

“A noblewoman thought I was going to steal her purse.”

“You were not going to steal her purse?”

“No!” You feigned looking scandalised at the mere suggestion, before dropping the act, “I was going to steal her dog.”

Pero guffawed, not expecting you to say such a thing.

“Her dog?”

“It would have been worth more than the coins in her purse.”

Pero rubbed at his tired eyes. You listened to the sounds around you; the guards gossiping outside the dungeon door, a rat squeaking somewhere nearby, the rhythm of Pero’s breathing. It was the first bit of peace you’d had in a long time.

“If we get caught again they will not simply throw us in the dungeons,” Pero whispered ominously.

You couldn’t disagree with him, but there weren’t many other options for people like the two of you. You were wanderers and loners. You had no money, no home, no family. What choice did you have?

You glanced at Pero who was already looking at you. He looked defeated, with dark bags under his eyes and his lips turned ever so slightly downwards, he looked how you felt. Hopeless and alone.

“We keep running into each other. That must mean something,” you claimed, feeling stupid as soon as the words came out. You quickly looked away and waited for him to mock you.

“You think this is God’s will?”

You shrugged and began picking at the dirt on your skirts.

“Perhaps we should do something about it.”

“Like what?” you asked, allowing your tone to lift in hope.

“If we are meant to be, maybe we should get out of this town and find another.”

“Together?”

“Why not?”

You looked at Pero then. There was no teasing in his eyes or smirk on his lips, he was being deadly serious. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of sticking with Pero from now on. However, you couldn’t make it too easy for him.

“Well for one, I’d be stuck with your ugly mug.”

Pero grinned and let out a deep, throaty chuckle.

“I would wager my ugly face is better than the hangman's noose.”

The room became sombre once more as you realised what your options were. You had to leave town, but you could either do that alone or with the man whose company you were beginning to enjoy.

You felt Pero nudge your side and you saw he was holding a single daisy up to you.

“Do you carry flowers at all times?”

“No, idiota, they are growing in the walls,” with an amused shake of his head he carefully placed the small flower behind your ear and leaned back to admire his work.

After your initial shock you smiled your thanks and he smiled back.

“Bonita,” Pero muttered and leaned his shoulder against yours as he settled back against the cold, damp wall.

You think you could get used to sticking by his side.

Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @phoenixhalliwell @computeringturtle

#Floriography Series #Pero Tovar #Pero #Tovar #Pero Tovar x Reader #Pero x Reader #Tovar x Reader #The Great Wall #Pedro Pascal

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leviiattacks · 3 years

Text

Two Faced | Chapter Eight

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it’s all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared, for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au ??? (at this point idek) angst, fluff, slice of life etc ?? word count :: 4.8k author note :: i’ve been very ill so yeah, not the best writing but i really can’t go that long without wanting to write so i ended up writing an update, i hope you enjoy it, it’s longer than usual :D sorry for any mistakes it hasn’t been proof read at all :-( → next part coming soon!!

“Hey, newbie you haven't spoke about your home town much have ya?"

You lift your head, verifying Reiner's suspicions with a nod. You recall he's the same distasteful blonde brute who made those snide remarks about Hange. He must be at least a towering six foot if his shadow is able to cover the majority of the Sun's rays from hitting you.

You would maybe bother to give him and his inquiry more attention than you currently are if he hadn't been so unnecessarily impolite during the morning speeches.

Calves yelping in stinging pain from the first tastes of the full time training regime you simply cannot find the effort to strain your mind with small talk.

Temples throbbing it feels as if a sword has been forced through the side of your head, but that's not it at all. Reiner has thrown a small rock at you and you hear him chuckle under his breath.

Twisting your position so you face him you glare in displeasure.

Although you don't particularly enjoy the idea of joining Levi's unit and having to become a concealed agent of sorts you can't really take your pickings at how it is you wish to survive. You're going to have to deal with it and you've come to the stage of acceptance now.

However, you are not willing to respect the attitude some of these cadets are giving you, it's clear there's already a strong hierarchy in place.

Reiner just so happens to be one of the big guns from what you've been able to observe. He possess strong upper body strength and his hand to hand combat isn't a laughing matter either. That means he's higher up in the ladder of cadets, that's for sure. To top it all off you know you're not as powerful as other members in the team in terms of skill and he's probably silently making a mockery of you for it.

Pursing your lips you decide to play this game cautiously, asking him what it is he needs from you isn't the best option. You're aware he's after something, it's written all over his face. You practically know every deceptive look in the book off by heart. You suppose it's the only perk you got out of living in a noble household for most of your life.

"Why do you care?" You bluntly question him.

"Ohh, you're feisty. Might not want to butt heads with Annie."

"Not sure who that is but I don't plan on it."

Turning away from him it look like you're distracting yourself by collecting pieces of firewood. Trailing around you act as uncaring as possible to annoy him. You need to gauge this man's reaction somehow.

Your plan seems to be working in your favour because you're able to see his footing shift from his natural stance, it looks as if he's about to risk charging at you due to your vulnerable position but you rotate again offering him a knowing smile.

You don't tell him you're conscious of his suspicious nature but if he's quick witted enough he'll be able to figure out you aren't a threat and apparently don't have a clue what it is he's up to. The only reason he'd even consider attacking you would be if he saw you as an issue. For now your act should at least keep him at bay.

"Fine. I'll tell you about my hometown, I'm just..." You pause to make yourself look believable and proceed to look up at him through your lashes, you dart your gaze away and awkwardly scratch the back of your neck exuding coyness.

"I'm incredibly homesick. I miss mother. I always made supper for her, now I can only pray she's not eating burnt chicken." Your act has to be working because his eyes soften and he takes half of the firewood in your arms offering to help you carry it.

"My mum's a great cook, can't relate squirt."

"Who you calling squirt?" You playfully snap back.

"I call everybody that, even Captain Levi... Well, when he isn't around to hear it."

You bite the inside of your cheek at the mention of the Levi's name.

“So you and the Captain? What’s that all about?” His question makes no sense at all, one minute he wants to prod and poke in your personal home life yet the next minute he's asking questions about Levi. The doubts you have surrounding him only thicken.

You take a moment to consider his question,

“Whatever do you mean?” Clueless, you're delivery is excellent. Acting naive is easy enough, everyone within the corps has already decided that's what your automatic disposition is.

Reiner gives you a skeptical look then smiles faintly, “Glaring daggers at Jean after he got handsy with you?”

You cover your mouth with your free hand and laugh so hard the firewood nearly flies out of your grasp.

“Me and Jean are friends, and Levi? He just wanted to find a reason to get mad at us probably.” You hope the explanation suffices because you truly have no idea why Levi had done what he did.

Reiner hums in approval at your answer but he then grins.

“You on first name basis with the Captain?”

Fuck, you called him Levi.

Play it cool.

“Huh? When have I ever said his first name?” Clueless. Your delivery is still perfect.

“Just now.” He fires back, Reiner doesn't seem to be letting up but he doesn't know how smooth of a liar you are.

Living with your father for all those years conditioned you in ways you hadn't even noticed until quite recently.

“Did I? Pardon, I didn’t mean for it to slip out. Sometimes I silently curse him out in my head and forget to add his title.”

Your acting is impeccable, Reiner has no reason to doubt you. As you expect he doesn't instead he shifts the conversation to his hometown, just like you he doesn't explicitly mention a name. Reiner is sharp but he hasn't noticed the way you've left a name out just like him. He's terrible at catching out his own kind.

You decide at that moment that Reiner Braun is a liar. The accusation is more of a hunch meaning more investigation is required.

You won't inform any of the higher ups about it just yet.

The walk back to base is filled with excruciatingly troublesome small talk and you make a mental note to take Mikasa along with you next time it's your turn retrieve the firewood.

You can't afford any more close encounters with Braun or any of his possible accomplices.

Sniggers batter your ears as soon as you step foot onto the grounds, you have a sixth sense when it comes to spiteful bad-mouthing and after the abysmal day you've had you anticipate there will be unpleasant commentary.

"Seen the way Y/N ruined the assault course today?"

"We're the finalized cadets across all the regions of Paradis. That means we have to rely on that embarrassment to fight titans."

"Good Lord, someone have mercy on our souls."

Fellow cadets press on in their criticism thinking you aren't within earshot. That, or they purposefully aim for you to pay attention to the disapproval they have of your presence.

But, you do understand where they're coming from. You make another mental note - practice a bit more later today.

The gossiping isn't anything you're unfamiliar with, your father's palace never offered kindness to you or your existence. In fact it's rather comforting being talked badly about behind your back.

That statement sounds absurd but you can't explain it. Maybe it's due to Levi typically hurling his unnecessary remarks right at you without warning. Then again he does provide everyone with that treatment, even Commander Erwin.

As you hurry away increasing the distance between you and your loud mouthed team members you spot Levi from the corner of your eye. He's in conversation with Hange but you notice how his jaw is clenched in frustration, you feel a pinch over your skin when he spares you a fleeting look. Eyes acquainting yours. Paying no attention to him you walk away as fast as you can.

The cadets only blow up in volume now, they definitely want you to hear what they have to say.

"Maybe we should ask the higher ups to throw her ou-"

"Questioning authority? Pesky mutineers aren't you?" Levi's booming voice shakes anyone within a five metre vicinity, he comes out of nowhere and seems nothing short of furious.

"You're all," He continues, voice rising, "Incredibly spineless aren't you?"

One of the cadets embellishes their face with a scowl, it doesn't go unnoticed by Levi but he astonishingly doesn't lash out, physically at least. His deathly glare is more than enough to finish the job.

Stupidly you suffer feeling your heart palpitate in your chest watching him talk to the group of three. Stupidly, you're getting your hopes up again.

He scoffs coldly, "If you're all talk why not offer to duel her?"

It doesn't take long for your heart to stop throbbing with its previous intensity. You know it was too good to be true. Levi suddenly defending you that is.

The gesture isn't done to protect or shield you. No, you're sure this man loathes you and is intending to persist on making your life as bleak and dreary as possible.

"Up to a battle Y/N?" The unnamed blonde cadet's scoffs in derision and you find yourself wanting to punch her square in the jaw.

Irritation sears through you but you meekly shake your head mumbling a weak "No thanks.", you're much too afraid to duel anyone just yet and you don't remember her from the training sessions. She must have been in a corner keeping to herself.

With all that being said and done you pathetically withdraw, and just like the past few days you sense Levi's piercing gaze erupting into your soul.

The blistering Sun hits every nook and cranny of the training ground. Waking up early already has you wanting to pass out and the heat isn't any help.

The crowd of cadets mumble in fatigue but observant Mikasa jabs you in the shoulder pointing out how far away Jean has stood from you.

You feel guilty that Jean had to suffer through the humiliation tossed at him yesterday but you are grateful to not deal with his constant questioning and talkative self this early in the morning.

All the way at the other side of the throng of soldiers he stands with Bert, who might you add is a mammoth of a man.

Through some digging (more like asking Mikasa) you've discovered he's close with Reiner and the blonde cadet from yesterday's confrontation, turns out she's the Annie that Reiner warned you off.

"ATTENTION!" Hange sing songs at the front of the training ground. They're jumping around along with Squad Leader Mike checking if everyone's in the correct uniform - Apparently the year prior a cadet showed up wearing a thick cardigan and fainted from heat stroke...

“Today’s exercise is a time to redeem yourself!” Hange’s eyes dart towards you and you smile at one another.

“A FIGHT TO THE DEATH!”

Everyone murmurs looking at each other in pure confusion.

“A fight up against another person. Whoever wins their individual fights will receive extra special privileges." The explanation seems simple enough and you’re confident that if you’re put up against the right people you can make it out safe.

The promise of a reward is also enticing.

The 104th Training Corps are thrilled, there’s nothing too hazardous about the task and it’s nothing difficult to ask for. Even you’re looking forward to it. The chance to rescue your reputation has you pumped up with adrenaline.

“My, my my. Don’t excite yourselves just yet little hens, there’s a pretty little catch.” Hange's voice is laced in mischief. This can't be any good.

Everyone stops breathing in unison and it’s pin drop silent.

“You must cause harm to your opponent in some way. Whether it be making them faint, breaking an arm, breaking a leg. There are no rules when it comes to playing dirty!”

With a playful shrug of their shoulder Hange hops off the podium.

Squad Leader Mike pulls out the list of competitors. He’s decided the line-up on his own and begins the announcement with Bertholdt.

“BERTHOLDT HOOVER..."

Bert turns to look back at Reiner hesitantly and for such a giant it’s adorable how worried he is when everyone else is perturbed thinking about the poor individual who has to go up against him.

"AGAINST Y/N L/N!"

The crowd falls silent and your mouth is wide, this is unjust there’s no way this is allowed.

“Hey, don’t you think that’s kinda unfair?” Krista speaks out for you even though Ymir is by her side trying to talk her out of getting involved.

“She stands no chance against him.” Reiner is supporting your cause too.

Mikasa takes a step forward. “I agree, it’s not right, may I take her place instead?”

“No, no! It’s alright, I’ll go for it.”

Honestly you don’t want the corps to see you as a coward. Bravery and courage is what brought everyone here. Your story is different. You’re here to selfishly save your own life, you aren’t anywhere near as valiant as the rest of them. The very least you can do is partake in activities correctly.

Stepping up to the podium you stand by Bertholdt he gives you a pitiful look whilst he mutters an apology.

Mike continues announcing the names. A few include Jean against Mikasa (Jean may as well forfeit), Marco against Annie and Connie against Reiner - that pairing eases you. At least you aren't in this alone. You and Connie stand no chance against those beasts.

Everyone lines up in their separate areas and again Bertholdt is profusely apologizing asking if you want to fake faint or anything of the sort. You shake your head and promise to give it all you've got.

And then the games begin at the sound of the bell, and damn that Bertholdt because he isn't keeping to his end of the bargain. He lunges forward viciously aiming to crush your entire body but you swiftly dodge, he tries the same approach but when you duck out of the way again he stops knowing he needs to rethinks his strategy.

"Just give it up I'll win either way."

Well, the Mister nice guy act was definitely a believable performance. He was so convincing you even contemplated feigning unconsciousness when he proposed the idea to you.

Bertholdt is much slower than you giving you more time to deliberate your incoming moves. If you can get him to edge close enough to a nearby tree and deceive him into colliding with the oak trunk you should win - only on the condition that he passes out.

The scheme is far-fetched but it's your only hope.

Dashing from various corners he flies after you, each time unable to catch up to you.

That is until you stumble and lurch to the ground. The wind is knocked out of your lungs and you panic when a large hand clutches at your ankle. Your solution? Booting him right in the teeth.

However with an earth-shattering amount of force Hoover's hold on your ankle doesn't weaken. Instead he tightens his hold like a vice. You feel it bruise and the violet discoloration that'll be present in a few hours makes you wince.

Entire body going limp on command, you stop yourself from breathing - another talent you picked up back at the palace to avoid extra beatings.

When you no longer thrash around Bertholdt stalks in to check in on you and as expected he’s now towering over you, blood overflowing in terror.

"SQUAD LEADER HANGE, CAPTAIN LEVI SHE'S NOT MOVING!" He's roaring for their help frantic and anxious. If he's caused any permanent damage he's as good as dead meat.

"Oh my Lord. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."

Bertholdt's voice is fractured in unadulterated horror and judging by the direction you hear it at he has to be facing away from you.

Unbolting your eyes you learn your assumption is correct and despite hurried footsteps being within audible range you take your chance by the reigns.

Leaping to your feet and with no forewarning you swing your leg to the back of his neck. Stunned by the surprise attack he falls to his knees and you situate yourself in front of the oak tree you've been eyeing from the time the exercise began.

"You cunning bitch." Staggering back up he makes a swift rebound. At this point all mercy has left him and his one true aim is to completely pulverize you.

Everything is falling into place. All you need to do is wait for the right moment and finally you come across it when he suddenly pounces for you. Darting to the left you leave the space open for your prey.

Poor Bertholdt falls right into the palm of your hands like a rag doll. His momentum can't be controlled and he smashes headfirst into the trunk with a loud crunch sounding out. Bark splits and scrapes off the tree upon impact.

His head has to throb and you don't want to imagine how painful it is to feel the rivulets of soreness.

He doesn't get up and only groans, you feel half bad but after the tricks and antics he pulled you come to the conclusion that it's all deserved.

"Well, Y/N, you've proven yourself to be quite quick witted." Hange's praise is strange to hear but you beam proud that you've proven your worth.

"Oi, don't get ahead of yourself." Levi orders. "It could have been pure luck."

In spite of Levi's pessimism you bask in the glory of your win.

A week into joining Levi's unit you're becoming more accustomed to the new environment, in fact the gossiping and horrible rumours stop completely after your win and interactions with your fellow comrades feel easier and lighter.

You think the taunts will have only got more relentless after the duel fiasco but you suppose Annie chose to be considerate and take pity on you.

"Your progress has been remarkable so far." You jump when you hear Jean's deep voice appear right next to you.

Looking around to see if any other cadets are around you finally release a breath you didn't even know you were holding in.

"Ah. Thank you." You murmur quietly.

"I know it's been a week since I was scolded by the Captain but this won't count as flirting will it?"

Impeding the one sided conversation you're reflecting, you're not sure what exactly about. Probably whether or not you should maintain the discussion - if it can even be referred to as such.

Forget it. You know what they say, you only live once.

Flicking his forehead you roll your eyes, "We were never flirting he's just an over dramatic, bitter hag. I put my money on the fact he's never felt the touch of a woman before."

Jean's eyes widen in disbelief, you half expect he'll split open in tremendous laughter but he looks terrified. Then you become conscious of the fact he's not even staring at you, his eyes are engrossed by whatever is behind you.

Unfortunately for you your body tells you all you need to know. His cologne floods into your nostrils, you can't even reassure yourself and pretend it's anyone else, you know he's the only one who smells that strongly of fresh linen.

Being unable to see him doesn't stop you from imagining his dark lifeless eyes accompanying themselves with what is before them.

It doesn't even take Jean a minute to abandon you, he breaks out into an awkward smile, hurriedly pats your shoulder before dashing away, dispersing all the way to the other end of the hallway in a matter of seconds and turning the corner away from you.

Heart rate soaring you hesitantly spin on your heel. Levi's stood there, looking beyond unimpressed.

You intend to breeze past him, cool and collected. You take a step forward but God has never been one to bless you with luck, stumbling and tripping over thin air lands you flying.

Ready for impact you brace yourself but it never comes, instead solid hands are firmly placed at the small of your back steadying your position and your palms have unceremoniously landed atop his torso.

"Play along." Levi's voice is low and rumbling, and you can't look him in the eyes. Not out of fear or dread, more so exhaustion but you muster the energy to look to your left. There Erwin and Hange stand giggling to themselves like children. As quick as you spot them they vanish in the same fashion. It's as if they were never there.

You're worn out and fatigued wanting nothing more than a good night's rest. If there's one thing you haven't grown used to it's the lack of sleep.

"Let go." Moving to shift his hands away from your waist you halt your movements when he without warning lets go of you, not even giving you the opportunity to renovate your balance.

Flying to the ground and landing with a thud you rub your backside at the blow.

Mirthlessly chuckling the lack of amusement is clear in the way he composes himself.

Making a dash for it sounds tempting but you may as well let him have his way. There's no action you can take to avoid him reprimanding you. It's your fault for having the gall to make that crude and foul-mouthed comment in the first place.

You gulp comprehending the situation is even worse now since you really only said it for the sole reason of Kirstein's amusement.

"Y/N, I'd like to have a word with you."

Hesitantly you look up at Levi, he has an indecipherable expression on his face, it's been a while since you've last been left in his company alone.

The two of you are stood in his office, his desk is flooded with papers, they're haphazardly scattered all over the place and spikes of worry weirdly make them self present in your belly. This isn't right. He'd never leave his work space in this state.

"Are you okay?" You ask it because you’re sure he isn't.

His shoulders and spine stiffen. "Cut the crap and keep the formalities to yourself." He chides, most definitely defensive in his stance.

Without asking him you shuffle to his desk stacking the papers into organised piles, most of the documents are related to an up and coming expedition and it's all beginning to add up. Even humanities strongest soldier has moments where he cracks.

Then you notice your name on the formation plan but before you're able to make anything out of it Levi snatches it off his desk and away from you stuffing it into his pocket.

Without another sound he observes you cleaning the rest of the mess away but doesn't ask for you to stop. There's no reason for him to.

If you do this maybe he'll go easier on you, yeah that's what your motivation is. That's not exactly the truth, really you're just concerned about whatever has him worked up.

Placing the last document in its rightful place you want to give your mind a moment to recollect itself but Levi doesn't think the same.

He places his arms on either side of the desk, trapping you with no way out. Oddly, there's nothing threatening about him looking down at you this time, the greys and blues of his iris' captivate you.

"Do you enjoy making a mockery of your husband?" The question is whispered. It's unanticipated and the title of husband is uncharacteristic coming out of his mouth.

"It was just a joke." You mumble your answer under your breath.

"Would you have spouted that shit in front of the rest of the unit?"

Mildly shaking your head he then sighs. He’s not angry, he genuinely seems let down.

"Do you prefer him over me?” You swear you hear the faintest hint of self-doubt.

His questions are getting more out of the ordinary by the second and you’re waiting for him to crack a malevolent grin before he ridicules you like he always does.

“Of course I don’t prefer him over you.”

“Prove it.”

Tilting your head up towards him you have no idea what he wants for you to do or say, why does this suddenly even matter to him?

And then you imagine it happen, him digging his hands into your shoulders. Your weight along with his shifting up against the desk making it creak. Your mind details how he would kiss you agitatedly and you flush thinking about how you would feverishly return the favour.

It seems like your imagination predicts the future. He grips your jaw with his hand, his touch isn’t firm and for once it’s quite soft. Relishing in the new experience as he leans in you secure your eyes shut in expectation.

Stroking your cheek with his thumb the warm sensation that courses through your body is rather pleasant. His hands come out to run against your body, pinching the sides of your waist. The motion makes your heart stall for a second. Involuntarily, you find yourself leaning into him.

“This seem like a man who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman before?”

And just like that he leaves you hanging. You flutter your eyes open and there he is. He’s back, the same cynical man, smirk etched onto his features, his body still parallel to yours.

You find yourself enraged at how he's just lead and dragged you on, you should have stuck with your gut feeling and not given into temptation but you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat. It's very obvious who the cat is in this situation.

Brows furrowing you can’t face him ever again after the scalding embarrassment inhabits your abdomen.

"Going to cry, Cadet?" He's pushing all your buttons, eagerly choosing to provoke you.

The frustration you’ve been feeling fills you to the brim and you clamp down on your bottom lip. If you must turn to inflicting harm onto yourself just to muffle the sound of your whimpers you will.

“Did you need to do that?” You choke out your response feeling helpless, still not looking at him.

“Simply gave you a taste of your own medicine.”

Silence.

"Sometimes I wish you killed me back then."

Silver eyes become dark and he visibly flinches at your confession.

Still boxed in-between his arms you attempt to push past but he continues to obstruct the exit. He's not done yet.

"I gave you another chance at life." His blunt one-sided view is about to drive you crazy.

"Within my first day at this unit I had to avoid being attacked by another cadet in the forest if you call that a life I do-"

“Who?”

“Not important."

“If you know what's good for you, you'll spit it out."

For the sole purpose of irking him you heavily shake your head to emphasise your refusal to give in and name the culprit. It's not like you want Reiner to fall into trouble because of you. He hasn't shown any suspicious or out of the ordinary behaviour since then and you worry what Levi is capable of doing when given a reason to hurt someone.

Glancing at him dismissively you try to make your point again. "They haven't done anything since. Therefore, it's of no importance."

Conflicted emotions scurry over his face as he looks at you.

"It's of importance if my wif-" He growls and stops midway. His hands grip onto the desk even harder, knuckles turning white.

Was he about to say, wife?

Levi immediately realizes what he's nearly just said sounds exceedingly questionable. A look of uncertainty flashes over his face and then it seems he loses all regard for self-control. His willpower isn't enough to get him through this situation and he only amplifies.

Encroaching further into the very little space amongst the both of you his tone is icy. "Tell me." He's glowering and for Reiner's wellbeing you decide you should just come out with it now. He'll be in an even more difficult spot if you don't.

"Reiner, it was Reiner." You gasp out the answer, shallow breath ragged. Head turning away to the side you're not particularly sure why you're so shaky and why you feel a tremor flood past you inundating your movement. It may all be a combination of how close he's standing to you and how intoxicatingly strong his aura is.

Or, perhaps it's due to how he nearly referred to you as his wife during his primal outburst of anger.

He turns away. Automatically creating yet another blockade between the two of you.

"You're dismissed."

#levi #levi ackerman #aot #snk #attack on titan levi #attack on titan #levi x y/n #levi x reader #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #duke levi #levi smut #levi angst #levi fluff #levi fanfiction #leviiattacks

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chuuulip · 4 years

Text

In My Bones

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader (Vampire AU)

Warning: 18+, Steve being a tease, Oral (female receiving) NSFW, PWP,

Words: 2043

Summary: You haven't seen your vampire boyfriend for a month, and by that, a night in a club might alleviate your loneliness, even just for a while.

Prompt: This fic used multiple prompts as followed:

I’m gonna rip these panties off and shove my tongue between your sweet lips

I know how this goes. First you buy me a drink, then you tell me how pretty I look, and then at the end of the night, you ask for my number

A.N: This is for @the-ce-horniest-book-club and @the-mcu-horniest-book-club as well as @drabblewithfrannybarnes. I’m feeling an early Halloweenesque so I pulled back my vampire boyfriend Steve (He might appeared again on Halloween!). This story is kind of a continuation from "In my veins" but I think you don't need to read it to read this. This piece isn’t beta and if there’s a grammar mistake, that will be on me 😉 I just want to do some short smut things, lol happy reading!

You stared down on your reflection in the dim bathroom. Makeup looks bolder than what you used too, but you didn't care. Your cat-eye eyeliner and your hair were on point. Soft lips were repainted with the red shade lipstick that suited you, not to mention extra blush to the cheeks. Tired of the piled up homework and grading you do in the past week. Not to mention the absence of constant skin to skin contact from your boyfriend made you dare yourself to go out with your friends tonight.

Feel satisfied with your look, you smoothened the black silk dress and exited the room. The sound of the music graced your ears when you were back on the dance floor. It's been what? couple hours since you arrived here with four other of your friends, but you can't find them anywhere. Likely either caught some hot guys or been seen by one. You strutted your way to the bar, body swayed lazily to keep up with the beat. When you decided on what drink you would have, a loud baritone voice interrupted you.

Turn your body to the side you were greeted by a tall and muscular man. His wide shoulder felt as if it meddled into your personal space. Flashes of light illuminated his blue eyes. The stubble decorated his face accentuated the strong jaw that God graced him with. Flickered your eyes back to him, you saw his pupils dilated. As if to try to adapt to the low-level light when all the lasers rotated and synchronized with the music.

Try to compose your cool; you tilted your chin up and faced him. "I know how this goes." With all the noise, you close the space between you and bite your lower lips. "First, you buy me a drink, then you tell me how pretty I look, and then, at the end of the night, you ask for my number." Your red painted fingers trailed its way from the collar, down to the lapel's, and ended it in the zipper of his leather jacket.

The man gave you a lopsided grin. You can see his thick long lashes fluttered up as his eyes sparkled with mischief. "First of all, I have your favorite drink in hand." he grabbed the glass of booze that looked like it glowed in the dark and gave it to you.

"Second...how am I not supposed to tell you that you are pretty, because you definitely are." you bring the glass to your lips and drink the liquid inside. "Lastly, before the end of the night, I'm not gonna ask you for your number because I already have it." he grinned at you triumphantly, teeth all white, and canines showed up a little bit.

You pouted at your boyfriends and put the glass back on the table, whine in displeased, "you are no fun, Stevie."

He closed any space between the both of you. His chuckle shifted his fake attempt to flirt as if you were a stranger. "What? You want me to fake it till the end?"

"Hmm… I just missed you so much I can't help but do that when I saw you."

"I missed you too, baby girl." Steve closed his eyes as he rested his forehead down to yours. He inhaled deeply as if the smells of your body vaporized from his senses since last week. "You smell so good tonight, fuck." His big hand was stationed on your hips. He purposely spread his fingers and moved it back on your ass cheeks, kneaded it.

You let out a surprised moan as your fingers instinctively hold on to the lapels of his jacket. You weren't exaggerated things, but since you dated your infamous big, handsome and blonde vampire boyfriend named Steve, you've been experienced the dry spell. In the past three months, he graced you with something tho, mostly, the heavy petting. It's not that you hate it, really. Steve wasn't any regular man you usually met. Men who just want to go do gymnastics in bed after the first date. He's sweet and attentive. But sometimes you need more than just the fake vibration that rushed to your body through the plastic toy that you kept in your nightstand.

"Steve…" you have been pretty needy lately, and Steve's absence didn't help. Although you haven't slept together yet, he's a constant presence in your life these couple of months.

"Hmm...yes?" Steve's right hand ran up to your spine and rested at the base of your neck. His blue-eyed momentarily flashed, turned it into amber color, and switched it back again to blue. He landed his soft lips to you, and you accepted it eagerly. Your hands sneaked at his back to his shoulders, trying to pull him down to meet you. The soft kiss turned into something filthier as Steve demanded access inside your mouth. His left hand still held your ass as he let you know the evidence inside his jeans.

Withdraw yourself from the temptation that's Steve, your hazy eyes meet him. "Stevie…, please don't torture me, would you? Don't make me horny and then just leave me to my vibrator." You pouted at him, but you can't help grinded yourself on his hard-on.

Steve chuckled and led your leaned back temporarily at the bar table. His left fingers sneaked under your dress and crawled up. Your eyes widened in surprise as Steve's fingers played with the lace of your panty. "Steve…," you warned him. Your eyes look around as if you were afraid you get caught in the act of indecency. Though you weren't the only one.

"I'm gonna... " his fingers roamed over your clothed core, making you let out a soft moan. "— rip these panties off and shove my tongue between your sweet lips."

His words made your inner wall clenched involuntarily between nothing. He never expressed that before nor he ever touched you down there beyond the shield of your panty. "St—Steve…,"

"After that, I'm gonna suck your blood and drink that sweet nectar from your inner thigh." Good God why he's extremely hot and possessive today. Not that you hate it, really.

Steve kiss the side of your neck. Lips nipped tentatively at the vein there, made you let out a gasp.

"Hey, both of you get a room." Sam Wilson, the club owner that's also a good friend of Steve, appeared behind the bar.

You were startled in embarrassment. Pat your palms against Steve's back to get his attention.

"Sam!" you answered him a bit breathless, but apparently Steve didn't budge from his neck kissing. You let out a yelp as Steve lifted you up like you weight nothing and carried you over the shoulder. He gave you a smacked over your ass and turned his body to face Sam with a big grin.

"Sorry, Sam, doesn't plan to get carried away down here. See you, man."

"Have fun, you two." the familiar voice replied with a cheerful noise. When Steve turned away and led you further away from Sam, you crane your neck up to see Sam gave you two thumbs up and a big grin.

***

With a quick stride, Steve opened the VIP room upstairs and locked it. He let your stilettos land on a concrete marble floor gently. Steve looked at you with hunger in his eyes as he slowly backed down to the leather chaise lounge in the room. There's a small stage complete with a metal pole in the center. He's not asked you to do a striptease, wouldn't he?

You never really pay attention to any stripper in the club nor that you're good at dancing, but no harm in trying, right? Steve lifted his left eyebrow as he saw you walk to the mini stage. Awkwardly, you try to move your body to the music outside. Slithered your body to the pole. The colorful light from the disco ball glowed as if it beats. Gave you the upper hand to look more alluring.

As if transfixed with Steve's word earlier, you pulled down your lace thong. You can clearly see the bulge behind Steve's jeans. God, how you wish Steve let you near that crotch of his. You turned your body, so Steve has a good look at your body. Teased him just a little bit with your skin as you hunched your black silk dress up your thigh. You did it again, but now you hunched it up to your hips. You were welcomed by the loud growl from Steve as he has a clear view of your supple ass. God, you're really wet right now. If Steve didn't do anything anytime soon, you wouldn't leave this room until you come.

"Fuck, come here, baby. Sit on my face." You turned your body to find Steve laid his back on the chair. "I want to taste you so bad." His words alone raised goosebumps on your skin. Without thinking any longer, you found your way to the chaise lounge, climbed on it—knees situated on both sides as Steve's head position in between.

Steve nimble fingers rolled your silk dress up to your hips. He traced his tongue over his lips at the sight of your wet core.

You looked down on him in your somewhat awkward position, "Stevie, are you sure? I will not forgive you if y—Ohhh—." You let out a surprised yelp and followed by a loud moan as Steve grabbed your thigh down and flicked his tongue on your wet folds. The coarser of his hair sent extra tingled on your sensitive skin.

He made your wet core sit on his mouth while he gave it a kiss. Not your usual smooches, but the one that's so filthy, saliva involved in it. Whatever he was doing in the past week finally opened the gate of opportunity for you. The prospect that Steve didn't afraid to touch you like a lover should.

"Uhhh—," your hands try to steady your upper body on the wall as Steve's relentless tongue gave you a languid lap. From the center of your folds up to your bundle of nerves. Over and over again, teased you. It easily riled you up as this was the first time Steve did things beyond playing with your tits or traced his fingers on your clothed core.

Your right hand instantly grabbed onto Steve's hair as his tongue entered your pussy. His hands spread your cheeks as he encouraged you to hump your wet core onto his mouth.

“Oh..God—ffuck!”

Every fiber of your body felt like its burn as his tongue fucked you so good. Steve used his fingers and made a slow but persistent circle on your clit. Heightened something that rapidly built-in your lower belly.

Steve held you still as he changed positions. With a several and insistent flicked and sucked to your clit, your inner wall spasmed uncontrollably in an instant. Your left hand covered your scream as your right one held a balance on Steve's hair. Your body arched like a bow, but Steve didn't stop. He let you ride him while your juices flooded his hungry mouth.

Your upper body rested on the upper head of the chaise lounges while Steve's still down there, lapped every bit of your juices.

Steve slipped off under your body and let you sat properly. He spread your legs and trailed his fingers on your swollen pussy. It excites him when it's quivered under his touch. "Such a sweet pussy you have, baby girl." He bent down and gave your clit a quick suck, made your body tremble, and a loud moan erupted out of you.

"Now for the final meal." Steve's blue eyes switched to his amber color one. You cupped his face and dragged it up so you can kiss him. The remnant of your cum still lingered on Steve's lips, something that you wanted to taste more often.

You withdraw from Steve and trail your fingers on his lips. His fangs showed up as he was ready for another feast. Your beautiful vampire boyfriend. With hazy eyes, you whispered words like the good girlfriend that you are, "my body is ready, Stevie."

***

As always, comment and reblog are really appreciated ❤️. Let me know what you think about this.

#chris evans #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #vampire au #sweaterbaeschallenge #the ce horniest book club #the mcu horniest book ckub

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yungidreamer · 4 years

Text

Claimed

Summary: An intruder enters the territory of Chan and his pack, attacking people and causing havoc. Seemingly by chance he saves a victim that turns out to be his mate, but as fate would have it, he happens to be a wolf at the time. How will he protect her, come clean, and claim his mate?

Word count: 8.2k

Content warnings: slightly dark themes, a werewolf serial killer who is a vindictive asshole, impregnation kink, marking, minor descriptions of violence, sort of stalking, sort of possessive behavior. Some cursing.

Music: Come Out by Lenise Morales and War of Hearts by Ruelle

“Come on, boy,” she said, patting her leg and holding out the leash. “Let’s go on a walk before it gets too late.” Chan hopped up off his round dog bed near the couch, wagging his tail as he came to her. He sat patiently, turning his head to let her reach the leather collar she had put on his neck. Jesus, his pack mates would be in hysterics if they saw him like this, he thought to himself. But he could have endured the embarrassment for her.

How had he ended up like this? Really, it was a mix of destiny and bad luck on both of their parts. He honestly never thought he would meet his mate when he was in his wolf form and hurt on top of it. Fights weren’t something he got into that often and something he avoided when he could, but that night three months ago he had caught that piece of shit lone wolf stalking her.

Why the loner had picked her, he had no idea, but Chan had to be grateful in some ways. How long would it have been before he ran across her if not for that? Jesus, what if he had gotten there too late? He didn’t want to think about it.

That night he had been sent to track the interloper that had been causing havoc in their territory. He was the first of the pack to actually find him, which must have been luck since Minho was generally the best tracker and Changbin a close second. They had taken the two days before and barely missed catching him at the no-tell motel he had been staying at and at some restaurant where he had mauled some poor woman heading home after her shift. Changbin had been furious with himself for not tracking him fast enough and had been the one to find her bloodied and crying near the back door of the restaurant. He had shifted back to human and called 911, telling them he had been passing by when he heard her crying, a plausible enough story not to raise any suspicion. Besides as far as anyone involved knew, it was a rabid dog attack… a massive rabid dog.

Tracking was exhausting work and got shared amongst all the members of the pack. The third night had been his job and he had taken a neighborhood near the one he had been stalking, suspecting he had moved his hunting grounds but not that far. His hunch had been right, but it was pure luck that he had come across the scent of the intruder as he patrolled, just hoping to catch some hint, some clue.

That whiff had pulled him down an alley and into the strip mall parking lot of the craft store. For the life of him, he could not figure out why on earth he would pick this sort of place. The parking lot was half empty since most of the stores were already closed… except the big hobby shop. The sodium orange lights of the parking lot had flickered and buzzed, bothering his sensitive senses and it must have done the same for the lone wolf… so why on earth would he choose to hunt here.

Chan had spotted him, in human form, leaning casually on a planter half a dozen meters from the entrance to the store taking a drag on a hand rolled cigarette. He had let out an involuntary huffing sneeze, hating the smell as it drifted to him. That had given him away. Even if he hadn’t been able to sense that he was a fellow werewolf, no dog would have been wandering around alone in a parking lot here, like this, at this hour.

“I’m surprised you found me, rover,” the loner had chuckled, self-satisfied and amused. “I would have let you guys be, but you couldn’t just let me hunt a little.” Chan had growled as he watched him stand up, letting the shadows and flickering lights obscure his face as he pulled himself into a standing position. He had moved fast, charging at Chan and drawing a knife just before he got within an arm's length of him. Chan dodged but not fast enough, and the knife caught him in the ribs, grazing over a couple of them before he could dig his teeth into the man’s arm.

“Fuck,” the man yelled, punching Chan in the jaw to force him to let go. Stars sparkled in his vision and pain sliced through him as the knife slid along his collarbone and upper leg. He had gotten one last swipe in before retreating, leaving Chan bloodied and limping.

A safe place to shift was what he had needed, there surely would have been someplace nearby, a little alcove or alley between a couple of the shops, but before he could get very far, she had stepped out of the store, locking up and leaving for the night. Chan froze. He had been slinking away, slowly trying to get out of view, but was still very clearly in view when she had stepped out. His pain had blinded him to other sensations at first, but even before she turned and saw him, it hit him like a freight train.

Mine the sensation said with a ferocity he had never felt before. Why he had to find his mate like this, he had no idea. He wasn’t particularly unlucky. He didn’t spend tons of time as a wolf either. His pack was pretty chill and was pretty careful to stay below the radar. Their territory was safe and they were known for not being overly territorial, letting people pass through without a problem so long as they left and didn’t make problems. So how he ran across her while he was shifted and injured was just stupidly bad luck.

She had gasped when she finally turned around and saw him, but who wouldn’t when they turned around to see a massive dog behind them limping and bleeding. A moment’s fear had shot through her at the sight until Chan had whimpered, flattening himself on the pavement to look as unthreatening as possible.

“Hey puppy,” she said softly, putting out her hand for him to sniff as she leaned down, slowly coming closer. “Can I take a look at you?”

Yes please, he thought, rolling gently onto his uninjured side.

“What on earth happened to you… boy?” She asked, catching sight of his belly. “I don’t suppose you are going to make this easy on me and would just get in my car if I brought it around?” She sighed and patted his head. Rubbing his head into her hand, he rolled back over and pulled himself up to stand again. “Maybe you can just come with me, hmmm?” Standing up, she started to move towards her car, keeping an eye on him as he slowly limped behind her. She opened the back door to her car and patted the seat, inviting him to hop in, which he did quite happily. “Well at least that was easy.” She observed, closing the door behind him as he laid down on the back seat. “Now we just have to go spend my whole paycheck at the emergency vets.”

Sorry, he said to her in his head. I’ll pay you back when I can. Pain pulsed through him as the city lights swished over him in the back seat. The emergency vet clinic was only a half an hour away but that was way longer than he would have ever wanted to have to lay bleeding in the backseat of a car. In fact, he really was sure he could have gone his whole damn life without knowing what that felt like.

He was tough, he was the alpha of the group, though he didn’t enforce a hard hierarchy like some did. They were more family than anything else. They looked out for each other, did their part, contributed in any way that they could. It worked well for them and everyone was pretty happy with the arrangement. It was just his job to be the final voice when decisions needed to be made or to speak for the group when dealing with outsiders.

“Can you get up, pup?” She asked when she opened the door in the parking lot of the vet’s office. Chan nodded, though it probably didn’t look like it, what with being a dog and all, and stood up on slightly shaky limbs. Thank god they were close, he thought to himself as he stepped out the door and onto the pavement.

“I need some help please,” she said as they stepped through the automatic sliding door of the clinic.

“Oh my god,” the woman behind the counter said when she caught sight of him, picking up the phone on the desk and hitting a couple of buttons. “Doctor West we need you in reception now please, and bring whoever is back there to help.” She hung up the phone and dashed out from behind the desk. “What on earth happened?”

“I don’t know,” she said looking down at Chan as she kept a hand on his head. “I was just coming out of work and found him like this in the parking lot. Maybe he got cut getting out of a yard or went through a window or something?”

The receptionist had shrugged, it seemed like as good an explanation as any. They had taken him back, stitched him up and scanned him for an ID chip, which, shocker, he didn’t have. With no one else seemingly accountable for him, she had decided to take him home, saying she would try and find his owners. For now, she would pay for the vet bills and she just had to hope whoever owned him would pay her back. Though honestly, given the shape he was in, she wasn’t holding out hope there was someone, or at least someone responsible.

That was how he had ended up here and stuck in his canine form way more than he was used to. The one upside was that he was with her. She had spent a couple of weeks hanging up posters with his picture, but eventually just decided to adopt him herself, leaving him in the weirdest bind he could imagine.

The first few days he had stayed just because everything hurt too much to do anything else. I’ll change back soon, he told himself, I just need the stitches to heal a little first. Then one evening when she came home he could smell him and cigarettes on her and his heart had clenched. The loner had been there for her? For his mate? At that moment, that realization he had a feeling he never would have thought possible. Thank god I was the one that got stabbed. That had settled it. He had to be there, he had to stay and protect her, at least until the intruder was caught.

Not long after that he had shifted when she was off at work, finally getting in touch with his pack. After the understandable chewing out he let Jisung give him since he had basically disappeared without a word for DAYS, he explained what had happened and told him to pick someone to shadow her while she was out or at work. Jisung agreed, letting out a low whistle at the story and the news that he had found his mate. Chan left the details to him and the others, still not feeling even 50% if he had to be honest. He trusted them and for now, he was stuck.

Now it had been three months and the loner was still on the loose and still in their territory. They had no idea why and he had only attacked one person since that night. Now and again, when she came home from work, he would smell him on her, and still other times, he would catch the smell of the loner when they walked through the neighborhood. But it was never enough, never that fresh, and he had no idea how he was flitting around so close yet so far.

Jisung had the brilliant idea of getting one of them hired to work with her at the craft store. Chan had to admit, it had been a good idea, it kept someone close, but it probably wouldn’t have been the solution he would have wanted. Smelling Changbin on her every night when she came home from work rankled him an unbelievable amount, despite the fact that he knew nothing was happening with them. But between smelling his pack mate and the loner on her, and being unable to do anything with her aside from pretending to be her pet was going to drive him mad.

How on earth was he supposed to tell her who he really was? Buck also couldn’t just disappear. And yes, she had named him after the dog in Call of the Wild which was both adorable and painful. She was attached to him...just the wrong him. He needed to come clean but, aside from breaking to her that werewolves existed at all, something that would most likely freak her out, saying, surprise (!) you know that dog you’ve been letting sleep in your bed and changing in front of… well, he’s actually a guy. Because, you know, that would go over really well.

So that was how he ended up on the end of her leash, heading out for a walk. If he didn’t have to do this as a dog and have to make a show of going to the bathroom on these walks, he would be far happier. It was nice being out with her, he just wanted to be able to do it as a person, maybe holding her hand, though he might have tolerated a collar and leash if she really liked it for some reason.

Chan walked ahead of her, scenting the air as they made their evening loop of the neighborhood. All seemed well and normal for the most part, at least for the first half of the walk. But as they made the turn that would head them back towards home the scent of the loner drifted across their path. Chan stopped, causing her to bump into him and make a little sound of surprise as she accidentally stepped on one of his back feet.

“What’s the matter, Buck?” She asked, looking in the direction he was looking. “Did you see something?” Unsurprisingly, he didn’t answer and, after pausing for a few seconds, she moved past him, trying to snap him into moving again. Chan stepped in front of her, preventing her from going as he tried to place where the scent was coming from. “Come on, boy, I want to go home.”

I know, he said mentally, willing for her to understand him. Trust me, me too. Suddenly he saw it, the shape of another of his kind skulking on the other side of a cinder block wall. It’s dark chestnut fur moved slightly in the breeze as the animal stayed stock still. In a split second, it dashed back behind the wall and Chan gave chase. He pulled his leash out of her hand, sending a mental apology to her, and immediately gave chase. He couldn’t let this just keep going on. She called out his name, well the name she had given him, as he disappeared behind the wall, giving chase.

Quick as a flash, he saw the tail disappear around the back of the house on the other side of the block wall. He skidded around the corner, keeping the scent trail of the intruder under his nose. The chase led him through alleys and back yards as they ran and dodged. Finally he saw him disappear over a high fence and Chan lept after him, feeling like he was finally gaining on him.

When he landed he heard a snap and knew immediately that he had made a mistake. A sharp pain shot through his front leg. It had all been a plan, been a trap to get him here, to get him trapped… and to leave her alone. He had never really felt as stupid as he did right now. He finally gathered the will to look down at his leg to see it clasped in a leg hold trap, cut and bleeding, but thankfully not broken, probably by sheer luck. He couldn’t run like this and he had to get back to her.

With a gulp, he changed back, needing the dexterity of human hands to get out of the contraption. It pinched harder, stinging his nerves as his leg turned into an arm, thickening in the vice like grip. It took him a moment to stop seeing stars and then another to figure out how to press down the sides of the trap to open it. When he was finally free, he looked around. He had to get out but running around naked and bleeding was a great way to get the cops called on him.

Making his way to the edge of the neighboring yard, he looked over the wall to see laundry hanging on a line outside. He hopped over the wall and took a t-shirt and some pants, promising to try to remember to bring them back when he could. Once he was dressed, he ran. He ran towards where he had left her; ran like his life depended on it. Ran because hers probably did. His feet barely touched the ground as he rushed back to where he had left her.

Suddenly he heard a scream rend the air and he felt his whole body go cold. So stupid, he berated himself as he willed his body to move faster. Turning the corner a couple of blocks from where he had left her alone, he saw her… and him. The loner had cornered her against a fence in the front yard of some house, a hand around her throat and a knife pressed against her ribs. Without a second thought, Chan rushed forward with a guttural growl. The loner heard him and turned. Momentarily distracted from her, he didn’t notice when she jerked herself down, loosening his grip enough on her neck to fall in the direction opposite the knife he held on her. With his attention torn between two people now, Chan had the upper hand and wrestled him away from her.

“Run,” Chan commanded her as he tackled the loner to the ground. They rolled and grappled like gladiators, vying for dominance, both ignoring her. Something that turned out to be a mistake on the part of the loner. Just as he rolled on top, pinning Chan by gripping his injured arm, she rushed toward them, picking up the dropped knife and driving it into his back. The loner let out a rage filled scream and rolled away from them both as he changed back into his wolf form. Running away as quickly as he could manage and disappearing into the neighborhood.

“Are you okay,” Chan asked, getting up and grasping her upper arms. Her face was a mask of shock, eyes wide and not really seeing anything. “Look at me. Tell me that you are okay.”

“I have to find my dog,” she said, her eyes flashing around them, yet she didn’t pull away. “I think he tried to chase that thing away. He ran off and I need to make sure he’s okay… he was already hurt and…”

“I’m okay,” Chan said to her, giving her a little shake to get her attention. “I’m Buck. You found me in a parking lot and saved me. It’s me.” Her eyes snapped to his face and she went white. “I was following him that night, trying to figure why he was here. That’s how I got hurt, but that’s how I found you.”

“You were looking for me, too?” She shrank back, her eyes searching for something in his face.

“No, but,” Chan sighed. He needed to come clean but this wasn’t the place. Not in the open, not in someone else’s yard. “Let’s go home. Please. Can we talk there?”

“Home?” She asked, looking at him suspiciously.

“Your home,” he corrected. “Just, let me explain. Give me a chance.”

She looked down at the arms that were holding her, finally noticing his cut arm. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s not that bad,” he let go of her arms, trying to hide his injury a little.

“Let me take care of it,” she offered timidly. “Then we can talk.” Chan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. With a nod he led them both back to the house, keeping a gentle hand on her wrist as they walked. He needed the assurance that she was there, that she was safe.

She followed, letting him take the lead, slightly unsettled by how well he knew the way to her house. Part of her still didn’t believe him. But then again, she had just seen a man change into a dog or… wolf maybe, and she couldn’t explain that. She had never seen him before and yet he knew her dog, he knew where she lived, he had saved her. She wasn’t 100% sure, but something told her to trust him.

When they got to her house, she let them in and Chan pulled her inside, locking the door behind them before tucking her behind him as he scanned the room and tested the air inside the house for anything amiss. When he was satisfied that it was safe, he stepped further into the living room and headed towards the bathroom to care for his arm. He really knows where everything is, she thought as she watched him head there without hesitation. Stepping up to the sink he started running warm water, dipping his arm under the spigot to rinse it. He hissed as the water hit the wound, a tingling pain shooting outwards from it.

“Here,” she stepped up beside him, dampening her hands and lathering them so she could gently wash his wound. Chan sucked in a breath between his teeth at the sting. “Sorry,” she said softly.

“No, it’s okay,” he assured her. “I appreciate you helping me. I owe you my life twice over now.”

“Seems like both times it was because of me anyway so…” she didn’t meet his eyes, focusing on what her hands were doing.

“It’s not your fault,” Chan soothed. “We should have gotten him out of here long ago. He just… he keeps slipping away.”

“So what are you?” She asked as she patted his skin dry with a towel.

“Werewolf,” he replied softly. “But I won’t hurt you.”

She nodded and pulled some gauze and tape out of the cabinet behind her. Kneeling down in front of him as he sat on the toilet, she spread some anti-infection cream over one of the wounds before putting gauze over it and taping it down. She did the same with the other side, then wrapped both with a sports wrap to keep it secure on his arm.

“What’s your name?” She asked, finally looking up at him.

“Chan,” he replied gently, reaching out to cup her cheek. “My name is Chan.”

“That fits better than Buck,” she gave him a nervous smile and laugh.

“God I love hearing my name on your lips,” he admitted. He leaned forward hesitantly, giving her a chance to pull away, taking her lips with a gentle firmness. She tasted like heaven, even better than he had dreamed those nights when he lay beside her in bed pretending to be her pet.

What am I doing, she asked herself, feeling a fuzzy, intoxication filling her brain as his lips pressed against hers. His tongue darted out against her bottom lip, begging her to open to him. Why did he taste so good, she wondered as she shivered under his touch. He was hardly the first guy she had kissed but he felt different and she didn’t understand it. She didn’t know him at all, despite the fact he seemed to have been living in her house for months.

“Love, I… I need,” Chan pulled back and stepped away from her. “We need to talk.”

“Sorry,” she leaned back, not meeting his eyes, wiping her lips to try and erase the distracting sensations.

“No, don’t apologize,” he soothed, reaching out to her. “I just need—” he broke off. “I need you to understand.”

“What do I need to understand?” she asked him, frustration coursing through her.

“You’re mine,” he said, taking her face in his hands. “I knew it the moment I saw you that you were supposed to be mine. I protect what’s mine. But I need you to choose me. I can wait. I can send someone else to stay here and protect you. Just… I need it to be your choice because once I have you. I’m not letting you go.”

She should have been afraid, she should have made him leave and run as far as she could as fast as she could. But something in her trusted him. No that wasn’t strong enough. Something said he was right, they were a part of each other.

“Okay,” she nodded as much as she could, still restricted by his hands on her face.

“What?” He asked, his eyes searching hers, trying to divine what she was saying.

“I understand,” Her hands came up to loosely grip his wrists, guiding his hands down from her face. She leaned forward, bringing her lips to his.

“Wait,” Chan took a step back, having to use all his willpower to do so. “You’re sure?” She nodded and his will broke. It had taken so much of him to pull away, to do the right thing. He hadn’t expected her to accept him and what he was. With a desperate hunger, he smashed his lips into hers as he lifted her and carried her to the bedroom. He already knew the place well enough he didn’t have to take his lips from hers as he took them both to her room. He tossed her onto the bed and crawled in over her, pressing her into the mattress with his body. He was pure muscle as he pressed himself against her, she could feel it even through the odd mismatched clothing he was still wearing.

“Chan,” she breathed when he shifted to kiss along her cheek.

“Say it again,” he groaned, grinding himself against her. “Say my name.”

“Chan,” her hand tangled in his hair, holding him close. He pulled back, only long enough to strip off the shirt and to slip the borrowed jeans off his hips. He covered her still clothed body with his, drawing her arms around his neck. She moaned underneath him, parting her thighs to let him settle between them.

“I think I’m a little overdressed,” she pointed out.

“I can fix that,” he grinned, rolling them both over. With hurried hands he pulled off her shirt and unhooked her bra before sliding it off her arms and tossing it across the room. His pupils widened as he took in her bare breasts. They looked soft and inviting and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to cup them. She giggled and covered his hands with hers. Sliding backwards off him, she unfastened her jeans and stepped out of them.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Chan propped himself up on his elbows and took all of her in with his gaze. Her hands lifted to cover herself and he sat up, grabbing her wrists to stop her. “Don’t hide…” he blushed slightly as he admitted it, “You’re so beautiful.” He pulled her down to straddle him, running his hand over her waist and thighs.

She leaned down, bringing her lips to his as his hands wandered over her body. He had thought about this moment for months. Being so near her and having her not notice him, not see him had been killing him. So close, yet so far. Every night when she changed for bed, he had done his best not to stare as she stripped and put on her pajamas, only peeking a few times. Everytime she wrapped her arms around him and cuddled into his fur as she went to sleep. He had wanted to change, to confess, to throw himself on her.

Now he had her holding him as his human hands wandered over her soft curves and it was even better than he had dreamed. She smelled like heaven. Like the forest in summer and fields of wildflowers. He wanted to take her in every way possible. Kissing along the side of her neck, he buried his face in her shoulder, pressing her body against his tightly. He wanted to taste her, to feel her flesh in his mouth, to see if she tasted as sweet as she smelled.

He knew why. It wasn’t that he wanted to eat her. The bite would mark her as his to any other wolf that might cross her path. It would meld them together according to their customs and the rules of the pack. The mark would claim her as his alone and give her the protection of the pack.

Breathing deeply, he fought the urge. He needed to do this right. I’m not an animal, he reminded himself, rolling over and moving them both to the center of the bed. Her pleasure had to come first.

“Close your eyes,” he commanded softly. “I just want you to feel me.” She looked into his eyes for a second before nodding and closing her eyes as she laid on the bed beside him. Kissing her lips, he tasted her with a slow and lazy sense of leisure, reminding them both they had all night. He licked and nibbled at her lower lip, letting out an involuntary whine as he asked her to open to him. She parted her lips and let him in, still allowing him to set the pace, to guide her. His tongue thrust into her mouth with a hungry confidence. He devoured her like a sweet dessert, enjoying her taste with a slow deliberation. As he did, one hand played lightly over her chest and collarbone. His touch was as light a feather, teasing her with the contrast of sensations.

Leaving her lips, he slid himself down her body, dragging his lips and tongue over her neck to the center of her chest. He could hear her heart beating under her delicate rib cage, fluttering like a wounded bird. The sound stirred the animal inside him. Was she afraid? Her scent tickled his nose telling him that she was mostly aroused but underneath it was a faint sliver of fear. It wasn’t a fear of him, or at least not a real fear of him. It was the type of fear that makes a rollercoaster fun or that tickles your stomach when you stand near the precipice of a mountain and take in the wonder of the view. That frisson of a potential danger that was entirely unlikely, but not impossible. Looking up her body, he saw her bite her lip in anticipation of… something, of him.

He slid between her legs and moved lower on her body. He kissed and nipped at the flesh of her belly; so soft and vulnerable. The wolf in him loved that she trusted his teeth there. His wolf could have ripped that flesh with such ease and the fact that she trusted him like this made pleasure rippled through him. Moving lower, he settled himself between her thighs, lifting her legs to rest on his shoulders.

“Can I taste you?” He asked, nuzzling against her inner thigh.

“Yes,” she nodded, squeezing her eyes tightly as her hands fisted around the blanket beneath her.

“Show me what you like,” he instructed, licking a line up the slit of her body. “Let me know how to please you.” She nodded, her hands fidgeting with anticipation. “Baby girl, you can look at me now.”

Opening her eyes, she looked down the line of her body to see his hungry eyes fixed on her. Chan’s hand reached up to take hers as he held her hips down with the other, keeping eye contact as he made a testing thrust of his tongue into her. She gasped and squeezed his hand. Satisfaction settled in his chest and he threw himself into pleasing her as he read her body. He licked and nipped and sucked at her until she came apart underneath him with a strangled cry. She was beautiful and he had never felt as powerful as he did in that moment.

He needed to take her, to fill her with his seed until he was sure she would bare his child. An image of her, round with child, floated through his mind. Yes, the wolf inside him growled, take her. Chan slid up her body and positioned himself at her entrance as he pulled her into a kiss. She could taste herself on him as he stole her breath.

“Are you ready for me, baby girl?” He asked, brushing hair off her face.

“Yes,” she nodded, eyes hazy as she looked up at him. “Please, I want you in me.”

“I would give you anything you asked for,” He admitted, coaxing her thighs around his hips. “Have you… done this before?”

“Yeah,” she assured him. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” he nodded, a little relieved he wouldn’t have to hold back. Holding her face in his hands, he looked into her eyes as he curled his hips into hers with a slow deliberation. He watched as her face filled with wonder at the feel of his invasion. When he was finally seated fully inside her, he paused, taking a moment to enjoy the way her body stretched to accommodate him. It was like she was built to hold him.

“Can I move?” He asked softly, running the pad of his thumb over her cheek.

“God, yes, please,” she nodded, digging her nails into the skin and muscles of his back. Smiling down at her and keeping eye contact, he pulled himself half way out before thrusting back inside her. She sighed at the delicious friction. His body felt so good inside her, felt like it belonged, or perhaps that they were becoming a part of each other. Chan moved slowly, relishing this moment. She shivered, her hands grasping at his wide shoulders as he moved.

“Please,” she said again. “I need more.”

“Anything for you,” he soothed, placing a few kisses across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. He pulled his hips back and plunged inside her, going as deeply as he could. Setting a steady rhythm, Chan buried his face in her neck as he began to let go and lose himself in the feeling. She filled every sense of his. Her smell, her feel, and the taste of her skin under his lips. Even her pants and moans filled him as they teased his ears in the quiet of the room. Her limbs held him close, gripping him like he was the only thing keeping her from falling.

Pleasure rose inside him and he knew there was only so long he would last like this. He wanted to feel her come around him, feel her body milk him as she came beneath his touch again. Her heels hooked around the back of his thighs as she arched against him. The slight change in angle let him brush the sensitive spot inside her, making her quiver and gasp.

“Harder, there,” she begged, a desperation growing inside her.

“Are you close,” he questioned, his face tucked in against her neck.

“So close,” she whimpered, her nails raking his spine.

“Cum for me, baby girl,” Chan panted. “I need to hear you cum.” She whined and moved restlessly against him as the warm pleasure pooled in her stomach. He put his lips to the thrumming pulse of her throat.

“Chan,” her voice was barely a whisper when the knot of delight finally snapped inside her. As her body gripped him, he bit the flesh where her neck and shoulders met marking her as his. The shock of pain melded with her orgasm sending a cascade of sensations through her. With a final thrust he came inside her, filling her body with his emissions. He stayed like that until he felt her move restlessly beneath him and only then, reluctantly pulled out and moved to curl up beside her on the bed.

Her hand went to the bite on her neck. It still stung slightly but not nearly as much as she thought it should. Chan splayed a hand over her stomach, rubbing it in small circles.

“Are… are you okay,” he asked, looking at her lovingly as he laid beside her.

“Yes,” she nodded, taking her hand from her neck. “I didn’t expect you to bite me.”

“Just this once,” he promised, pulling himself closer to her. “It marks you as mine, gives you the protection of my pack. You’ll carry a little of my scent now.”

“Oh,” she blushed and looked at him. “Am I supposed to feel different? I don’t feel any different.”

“No,” he chuckled and smiled at her. “It’s something only my kind would notice.” She nodded and laced her fingers with his where they laid on her stomach.

“Did you do it so that he, whoever he is, would know?” She questioned. “Was this all just to, I don’t know, put him off?”

“No, although I would be happy if it did,” He gave her an adoring look. “This was because you were meant to be mine. Meant to be the mother of my babies; to be by my side for as long as we live.”

“So you want children,” she laughed.

“I want to see you filled with my child,” he admitted, his eyes going to where his hand lay on her. “I want to see it grow inside you. I want to raise it with you, watch it grow into someone as beautiful as you are.”

“Someday,” she nodded. “But I’ve been on birth control, so I don’t think we could just yet.”

“The bond,” he explained. “When I claimed you with my mark, it sort of…” he paused, searching for the right wording. “It opens you to me.”

“Oh,” she blinked at him a few times, trying to process what he was saying. “Even if we just… this one time?”

“Maybe,” he furrowed his brow slightly. “If you don’t want, at least not yet,” sitting up, he moved to help her walk to the bathroom. “We can try to clean you out, maybe prevent it.”

“No, it’s just a lot to adjust to,” she explained. “A lot has sort of happened since this morning.”

“I know, baby girl,” he laid down again and pulled her into a spooning position against him. “Let’s go to sleep for now and figure out the rest in the morning.”

Over the next few days neither of them left the house. She called in sick to work, not wanting to put either of them in danger by going out to a place he could so easily find and potentially corner her. Even with Changbin there, with so many people and such a big space, it would be possible to miss him, or at the very least, to not notice him until it was too late. Instead his pack mates came over to plan their next move. Chan spent most of his time planning with Minho and Changbin, setting patrol schedules and scout missions for everyone. Hyunjin was assigned the duty to investigate at the hotel and talk to the woman who had been mauled. Maybe it wasn’t a random coincidence that he had picked her, Felix had suggested after their second meeting. After all, if he was just looking to hurt people and just stir up trouble here, why target her? Sure it could have been a coincidence if he had just been foiled and chosen another target, but he hadn’t.

The suggestion had made Chan go cold. It made sense, but what had made him target her? There wasn’t something particularly special about her, except that she was his mate, but even he hadn’t known that yet. Was it possible the loner had some way of knowing even before Chan did? As far as they knew, it wasn’t possible to know but, still the thought lingered.

As the meeting was drawing to a close, Chan’s phone rang. Hyunjin was calling him from the hospital where he had gone to talk to the other victim.

“Chan?” There was a slight edge of panic to Hyunjin’s voice as he spoke.

“What’s the matter?” Chan asked the other boy, worried immediately by his tone.

“She’s… she’s my mate,” Hyunjin whispered into the phone.

“What?” Chan had a sudden sinking feeling in his chest. He stood up, needing to see his mate, to touch her and know that she was there and fine. He found her sitting at the table in the kitchen, snacking on something as she read.

“I’ve never met her before,” Hyunjin started to explain. “But I felt it the moment I walked into her room. She was just lying there, still sleeping, so hurt, and it just hit me. Her scent and just her presence; I know she’s mine.”

“How did he know?” Chan asked, pulling his own mate against him as he spoke.

“I don’t know, but this can’t be a coincidence,” Hyunjin insisted.

“I know,” Chan agreed.

“Look,” Hyunjin sighed. “I can’t leave her alone here. I have to stay for now.” Chan understood, letting him stay with the promise to send someone else to keep watch over her tomorrow so he could get some rest and come back to discuss what to do next.

“I hate this,” Chan said, as he sat at the cafe a block away from the craft store.

“We can hear everything that is happening,” Jisung assured him. “She’ll be fine, but we need him to come out.”

“I know,” He shifted in his seat. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

They spent the afternoon waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Over an open line, Chan, Jisung, Changbin and Jeongin listened as she went about her day like everything was fine and normal. She helped customers, stocked shelves, and worked at the register, all while Chan was on the edge of his chair, waiting for something to happen. But, it seemed, it was all for nothing. The sun set and the store closed and seemingly all was well. She locked the front door and set about closing everything down by herself.

Chan relaxed a little, hearing her calm humming as she closed down the register and counted out the money in the back of the store. After the money was counted and locked in the safe, she just had to make one last pass through of the store to make sure no one had left something behind or left a mess and then she could head home. Over the radio, Changbin and Jeongin started joking around, getting playful after a tense day. Everyone was relaxing, at least until a loud crack broke over the mic followed by her surprised squeal. The jokes stopped and everyone froze.

“I know you all are out there,” the loner’s self-satisfied voice cut through the silence. “Don’t worry. I won’t make her suffer, but sadly, you will.”

Before the words were even finished coming out of the loner’s mouth, Chan was up, running as fast as he could to the store. He had to get in, he had to protect her. Jisung was on his heels as they ran across the street and into the strip mall parking lot.

“Why?” She asked, her voice slightly strained.

“Why should he have you when my mate was stolen from me?” He growled.

“What did they have to do with that?” She asked, keeping him busy for as long as possible. If he was explaining things, he wasn’t killing her.

“Nothing,” he admitted, dragging her towards the back door. “But neither did anyone in the last three territories I went through. This one was the first one that figured out it was me though.”

“What the hell is the matter with you,” she spat. “You think you can take something from others just because it happened to you?”

“Why should I be the only one who has to be alone?” He demanded, pushing her against the wall by her neck.

“The only one,” she scoffed, realizing this was probably not the ideal way to handle this, but she couldn’t help it. “You know most people don’t have some beacon to tell them who they are supposed to be with. Even those who do, people lose the people they love all the time. Car accidents, illness, crime, no one needs your help suffering, you selfish, shitty person.”

“What do you know,” he hissed back.

“I know that your mate was lucky not to have had to spend a lifetime with someone who would do this,” she challenged. “No one deserves that.”

Shock and rage vied for dominance in his expression as he stared at her. He made a sound of pure rage and pulled back a hand to strike her. Never having been the sort to just lay down and give up, she kicked out catching the side of his knee. It didn’t really hurt him, but it was enough to unbalance him and make him catch himself, giving her the chance to break out of his grip. She knew she wouldn’t get far, he was faster and stronger, so she just tried to get as close as she could to where Chan and the others were. They would come, she had faith.

The loner came up, grabbing her from behind. “I’m glad, even if this is the last thing I do, I’m not just denying him his mate, but I’ll take his child, too.”

On the other side of the glass door, Chan felt half a second of numbing terror. He had to get inside, for both of them. Changbin picked up a part of a broken concrete curb stop and smashed it against the window, cracking the safety glass into a million little pieces, still stuck together by the coating, but weakened. He hit it again, opening a hole the size of a fist, and again, until the tear in the inner plastic layer got bigger. Impatiently, and perhaps a little recklessly, Chan covered his hand with his jacket sleeve and tore at the shattered glass. Finally the hole was big enough and he crawled through onto the display on the other side of the glass. He had to find her.

Their scuffling was audible and he found them quickly, rolling on the floor a few aisles into the store. She had curled into a ball, only moving to thwart his attempts to move her or drag her further to the back of the store. They all leapt on him, pulling him off her and dragging him away before they made sure he could never hurt another person. Chan stayed with her, trying to get her off the floor where she lay. He needed to hold her, make sure she was okay, make sure the loner hadn’t done anything to her that needed an ambulance.

She peeked out from under her arm, checking who it was before throwing herself into his arms. Relief coursed through her like she had never felt before. She breathed his name and threw her hands around his neck. Pulling her to his chest, he held her close for a moment before pulling her back to get a better look at her. Bruises were blooming on her neck and wrists, but that seemed to be the most serious injuries inflicted upon her.

“Baby girl,” he looked into her eyes, trying to find the words to express how sorry he was he hadn’t been there.

“I knew you would come,” she assured him.

“I will always come for you,” he promised, his hand dropping to her stomach. “For both of you. I will always protect my loves with everything I have.” Over the past few days he had been so preoccupied with their hunt and their planning that he hadn’t noticed the subtle change in her scent.

“How do you know,” she shook her head. “I don’t feel any different.”

“Nothing much, just a little change in your scent… hormones and all that,” He smiled and shrugged. It wasn’t really something a person could sense themselves. “Are you happy? I know this has been… too much.”

“I am,” she nodded. “I may not have chosen this way to meet you and fall into your world, but I don’t think I can imagine ending up anywhere else.”

“You’re mine,” he assured her. “And there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do just to see you smile.”

Masterlist

#bang chan #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #werewolf AU #chan #stray kids #kpop imagines #kpop smut #chan smut #bang chan smut

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notanacousticsetcal · 3 years

Text

don’t be an asshole - luke hemmings

summary - a boy you had always written off as annoying and hostile comes to your aid in a time of need and you come to find... maybe he was never as bad as he seemed.

warnings - alcohol, abusive ex, minor injuries and mentions of blood

word count - 2.4k ish

a/n - here’s the luke fic i mentioned, as promised :) i was honestly just day dreaming about this and so i thought i’d write it into existence. it’s really not my best work just something fun so please don’t judge it too harshly 😳

Your party dress was so tight you could barely breathe, but they always say “beauty is pain”. So you tugged the dress down around your thighs and took a deep breath. You were ready to get absolutely shitfaced and to forget about Caden and the skinny blonde you found in his bed with him. This wasn’t the first time you’d been cheated on, but you would make certain it would be the last.

You weren’t even sad anymore. Just fucking angry.

You waste a year of your life on a person and they throw it away in a second. Going through pictures was hard not because you missed him but because of how much you wished you could reach through the screen and strangle him.

You stepped into the house — some friend of a friend of a friends, you thought — and immediately headed for the alcohol. You desperately needed to blow off steam and this seemed like the perfect way.

You wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning anyway. You needed the distraction.

You breezed past your second least favorite blondie at the moment who gave you a smirk and you flipped him off. He rolled his eyes, turning back to the little red head next to him and shoving a hand in his pocket.

Luke had always been an asshole. He’d teased you since grade school, but you always fought him back. You think that’s probably why he kept doing it but your temper made it difficult to hold your tongue whenever he was around. He’d never tease your friends, it was always you and he always pushed the right buttons to get you all riled up.

You would do your best to ignore him tonight - this was about letting anger go, not reigniting it.

A fun night dancing with your friends ensued. You stood on tables and requested songs to the DJ and you felt yourself forgetting about Caden. Forgetting about his shitty apologies and thoughtless anniversary gifts and how he cared more about his car than you.

All that mattered right now was this moment.

Until his green eyes locked with yours and you felt that fiery pit of rage reignite in your stomach. Now he was here to ruin your night just when you were finally forgetting about his dumb face. Your jaw clenched, you were seething just at the sight of him.

Without a second thought, you moved away from his line of sight and made a beeline for the kitchen to make yourself another drink. That second of eye contact had sobered you up more than you were comfortable with and you felt the strongest urge to go find him and whoop his ass.

The tequila was only just making it into your red solo cup when a hand found a spot on your lower back.

You turned around quickly and to your surprise, Caden stared back at you, a look of fake sincerity on his face.

“You look sexy.” He reached up to stroke your cheek and you almost let him, frozen in pure astonishment, but you quickly came to your senses and slapped his hand so hard it must’ve left a mark. He winced, “what the fuck?”

You could smell the alcohol on his breath. By the slurring in his words, you figured he’d had a lot.

You wiggled out of his grip, hissing “stay the fuck away from me,” and stalking off.

Before you could get very far, Caden grabbed your wrist tightly, sending a wave of pain up your arm. “Watch it!” You tried to pull away again but to no avail.

He grabbed your jaw, pulling you forward so you could feel his hot breath on your cheek. “Don’t fucking walk away from me.”

“Let. Me. Go.” You writhed in his grip but it only tightened. You felt his hand press firmer against your airway. You could barely breathe. You tried to look around, the kitchen was empty.

He forced your face closer to his, attempting to kiss you. “What the fuck are you doing, Caden?” You managed to get out. The only thing you could think to do was stomp hard on his toes with your heel and he immediately doubled over, groaning in pain, but his grip on your left wrist didn’t loosen. He stood again with an even more intense anger in his eyes.

“You’re gonna regret that.”

Before he could act on that statement, a forceful punch sent him stumbling backwards, hunching over the sink with a hand pressed against his cheek.

You gasped in shock and looked back to see none other than Luke fucking Hemmings standing there, wringing out his wring clad fingers. “I mean, the dude has always been an asshole. You really don’t know how to pick ‘em do you, (y/n/n)?”

You scoffed, but before you could even process what was happening, Caden sent a hard punch right into Luke’s jaw. Luke winced, falling back a few steps but quickly regaining his composure.

Caden turned his head and spat, leaving blood on the wood floor. “This doesn’t concern you, asshole.”

Luke smiled and ran his hands through his hair. “You don’t choke a girl and get away with it, Caden.” Luke stepped forward, punching Caden once in the cheek and while he was down, again in the stomach. You winced. Not for Caden, but for Luke’s hand.

Caden collapsed onto the floor with some melodramatic groans and you felt absolutely zero sympathy.

Taking one more look at Caden’s pathetic, crumpled up body, and holding back some name calling, you grabbed Luke’s arm and began to tug him upstairs. “Come on.” Luke mumbled something you didn’t catch to a guy with colored hair and the guy began to lift Caden off the floor, dragging him toward the back door.

Luke let you pull him towards the stairs. “Hey, (y/n), at least buy me a drink first,” Luke laughed and you shook your head, already regretting this.

You pulled him into the bathroom and instructed him to sit on the counter so you could bandage up his hand.

His rings made the punches more painful for Caden but also left his fingers pretty battered. You winced once you got a glance at the bruises and cuts that already littered his hand. He had a busted lip too that was causing a trail of blood to form down to his jaw and then drip off his chin.

You grabbed a towel and began wiping at his face and then instructed him to hold it over his mouth.

He began to protest but you shushed him. His blue eyes were sparkling in the overhead light of the bathroom and you tried not to stare.

Bottles clattered as you shuffled around the medicine cabinet before pulling out an ACE bandage and some gauze.

You began lightly washing off his hand with some cool water and a little bit of soap. He watched you silently and you couldn’t quite read the expression on his face.

After a few minutes of silence, he spoke up. “You really don’t have to do this, you know,” though it was muffled by the towel still positioned over his lower lip.

You didn’t look up. “It’s the least I can do. You saved my ass.”

Luke scoffed. “You and I both know you would’ve gotten out of that just fine without my help.”

That made you smile. You looked up at him to find he was already staring back. A light flush took over your cheeks and you hoped he didn’t notice. By the subtle smirk on his face that followed, you could assume he probably did.

You cleared your throat. “Yeah, but it was nice to see him curled up on the ground like a little baby.” Luke laughed heartily and your heart fluttered at the sound.

“That was pretty great, wasn’t it?” Luke pulled the towel from his lip and it looked like the bleeding had stopped. You began to wrap the bandage around his knuckles. “I’ve always wanted to deck that asshole. I always kind of wondered why you stayed with him. He didn’t treat you very well.”

You stayed silent. Luke was right, but it was embarrassing. You had wondered yourself why you stayed with him.

Luke took your silence as a cue to change the subject. “Thanks for this.”

You smiled up at him and sealed the bandage. “My pleasure.”

Luke’s eyes softened as he looked down at you. “Maybe I should not be an asshole to you more often.”

You smiled and shook your head in playful annoyance. “Yeah, maybe you should.” You lightly hit his shoulder and he smiled.

You turned around and sat on the edge of the bathtub, feeling a wave of exhaustion hit you.

“You alright?” Luke asked, his features turning concerned.

You nodded, a little dazed, and then yawned. “Tired.” You let yourself slip back into the tub.

Luke laughed at your childish actions and hopped off the counter. “What are you doing, (y/n)?” He said fondly.

“I said I was tired, didn’t I?” You shut your eyes, thinking the bathtub would be a perfect place to take a nap.

You heard Luke sigh, figuring he would just leave, but instead, you felt a pair of strong arms slide underneath you, pulling you out of the bathtub without any warning.

You squealed. “Luke!”

“Relax.”

“Where are you taking me? I'm capable of walking you know.” You kicked your legs back and forth stubbornly and Luke just looked down at you, clearly amused.

“I'm just taking you somewhere you can sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep in a stranger's bed,” you protested.

“You won’t be.” You looked up at Luke in an attempt to read his expression but before you could ask any more questions, he kicked a door open to your left.

“Luke—” you started.

“It’s alright. It’s just my room, I don’t mind.” Luke dropped you onto his navy sheets and you froze, unsure how to respond.

“This… this is your house?”

He nodded, his brow quirking upward as if to say “and what about it?” You probably wouldn’t have come to the party if you knew. Your feelings towards Luke at the beginning of the party were drastically different than what you felt now.

Before tonight, when you looked at Luke you saw a smug asshole that always had a new girl under his arm and a bottle of beer in his hand. The Luke that chased you around the playground and tossed wood chips at your head at recess.

Now when you looked at Luke your stomach twisted up into knots and your pulse sped up in anticipation and nerves. What was he doing to you?

You swallowed. “As long as you're alright with it.”

He shrugged, giving you a casual smile and you settled into his sheets.

He sat down beside you and pulled the comforter up to your chin. You stared at him with curiosity.

“Don’t let me sleep more than an hour, alright?” You turned onto your side, now facing Luke.

He smiled and nodded, reaching out unexpectedly to tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

You felt blood rush to your cheeks. “I won’t. Sleep tight, (y/n).”

Luke got up and left the room, leaving you with no chance of getting any sleep at all.

As soon as Luke stepped foot out of the door, you regretted letting him go.

You contemplated getting up and finding him for a minute, letting yourself ponder the possibilities.

After some intense contemplation, you threw the covers to the side and tiptoed towards the door, nearly face planting a few times trying to navigate in the dark.

Finally, your hands found the doorknob, turning it quickly and throwing the door open — only to be faced with the same pair of blue eyes that left the room a few minutes ago.

Luke cleared his throat, his face flushing a violent pink, and without another word, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into the dark room with you.

You didn’t know where a relationship with Luke might take you or if he was even interested in that, but you did know that when you were with Luke, you felt safe.

And you had a gut feeling he would never hurt you.

Through a swirl of heated skin and puckered lips, you stumbled back onto the bed, Luke hovering over top of you.

He leaned down, peppering kisses along your neck and down to your collarbone. You felt goosebumps rise on your arms.

His sheets smelled like him — clean like laundry detergent and like the ocean.

Luke pulled away from you, his breath heavy. “You’re drunk. I'm drunk. I beat up your ex a little while ago. Maybe we shouldn’t do this now.”

You hummed in agreement, but it took a lot to do so. It was taking an intense amount of restraint not to pull Luke down towards you again.

Luke began to get off of you but you grabbed his arm hastily. “Stay?”

He eyed you suspiciously, wondering what your intentions were. You rolled your eyes. “Just to sleep.”

He smiled softly and nodded before rolling over next to you and stealing some of your covers.

Luke laid still for a moment and you wondered if he would make a move and as if he had read your thoughts, he reached over and tugged on your arm. You secured yourself in his grip, your back against his chest, and hummed in content.

You felt his pulse quicken against your back and smiled.

You brought one of his hands up against your cheek and he nuzzled his nose into your back.

“It’s not a good idea to leave everyone unsupervised in my house but I just can’t find it in me to care right now.”

You laughed and gently squeezed his hand. “You can go back if you need to. I wouldn’t want your house to get wrecked.”

He shook his head against your back. “Let it get wrecked. I've waited too long to be in the position I am now to give it up that easily.”

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vickylamore · 3 years

Text

Enemy Of The Wolves [3]

TW: Language, Violence, Fighting + Poor Written Fighting Scene, Gore (brief), Injuries

Pairing: [slight] Mark Lee x Female Reader, NCT OT23 [Mostly platonic] x Female Reader

Genre: Action, Military Style AU, Organized Crime AU, Mafia AU, Angst and Fluff

(3/?) Part 1 Part 2

Word Count: 5.8k

[Main Masterlist] [Enemy Of The Wolves - Mini Masterlist]

Summary: Not only were you one of the few females to be apart of Neo Culture Technology’s underground organized crime association, you were also the only and top ranked female captain in the entire industry. Even if you worked in a majority male industry, you earned respect from nearly every one of your male counterparts. All but one. That one not only exposed your name to one of NCT’s worst and most vicious rivals but signed NCT’s entire demise. Only one group will prevail, the other left in ruins with no chance of recovery.

Notes: Good morning, currently 1:17 am and sorry for this taking three weeks to write, enjoy LMAO

Disclaimer: Please remember that this is a work of fiction and solely fiction. Any of the idols written and mentioned in this series would never take part in these actions, let alone stand by/condone them. The idols mentioned are merely used as characters and in no way am I saying that this is how they act in real life.

It didn’t take you too long to reach the building, faster than you actually expected. You had crossed a few other teachers, most older than you but respected you none the less.

You were tired and all you wanted to do was rest. You have gotten off a nineteen-hour flight, came straight home, learned what your delinquent soldiers did in your absence through the Dreamies, confronted a handful of students, reported back to 127 and had a mini-reunion with WayV. Some of the moments were more pleasant than others.

You rounded the corner and continued your way down the hallway, fatigue noticeable in your features but you forced yourself to stay awake just until you get to the dorms. You are more mentally and emotionally exhausted than anything else. A lot of it was because of what happened on your mission but you didn't want to talk about it.

You arrived in front of your office and sighed; you were going to prepare yourself for another issue before the day ended. However, you pause in front of the door when you hear chatter on the other side.

This confused you; no one should have access to your office or any higher-ups' offices for the matter. It was out of respect and privacy. Plus, you made sure it was locked, especially since the offices are secured with passcodes. The code bar on the side of the door was broken, insisting that someone had just broken it. If this was before you had arrived, someone would’ve noticed. This happened recently.

"We shouldn't be doing this, you know it's wrong."

"Doesn't matter," one whispered harshly, "you heard what he said, Captain Song could be onto us and our entire plan could be ruined.” You heard rummaging through drawers as you heard more sounds from further inside the room.

What was going on?

“Ezra, come on,” you heard another whisper from inside yet his voice was a lot quieter and was nearly inaudible. “Jihoon should be there any moment. Help Chris look through her stuff and tell us if you find anything useful.”

“I don’t understand why we didn’t do this when she first left,” you heard another groan, “we had two months and we’re doing this now? Not to mention Captain Song literally will arrive any minute-”

“Which is why you talk less and keep searching you idiot,” You recognized the voice as Hyunwoo’s, it was definitely next to Chan. “Look for anything that could look bad on her, take a picture then send it to Jihoon.” There was a pause. “Mh-hm.”

“Yeah, anything from weird documents, files, anything on Neo Culture that raise an eyebrow… just anything to frame her and make 127 think she’s the one that-”

You suddenly open the door, your eyes landing on four of five students you were supposed to talk to this afternoon. They all froze when they saw you, dropping whatever they had in their hands with their mouths agape.

“I’m the one that what?” You asked, your jaw clenched and your eyes are dark as ever, pure iciness emitting from them. “What the hell are you guys doing in my office?”

Your office was a mess when you looked around; paper and files sprawled across the floor, books and folders were thrown at every corner of the room. Your artifacts and nameplate were removed, the table in the middle right was turned over, the library where all your books of anatomy, fighting and strategic tactics were either on the floor, opened or misplaced on the shelves.

Some of them jumped at the sound of your booming voice, others fumbling on their words while looking at them. You were more shocked than anything. Your students, some of who you’ve been teaching for so long were the ones rummaging through all your stuff in search of something so important that they had to breach your privacy.

You were sick to your stomach, you weren’t even expecting this type of behaviour from them. That showed how much faith you had for them, hoping they’d change and finally mature into, one day, future and reliant soldiers. But now, Ezra was frozen in the middle of the room, his back faced to you while he was facing your office bureau, Chris was next to the library, a book now at his feet after dropping it while Chan was hunched behind your desk and Hyunwoo was crouched in front one of the drawers on your desk.

By their faces, you could tell that whatever plan they had backfired as soon as you stepped foot inside the room.

“I said, ‘what the hell are you guys in my office’” Your voice was a lot more hostile than before as you placed your hand on your holster, staring at the students in hostility and suspicion. The only information you had right now was, one, they broke into your office and two, they were talking about their plan that included you for some reason. You saw Chan’s eyes widen, the brunette with deep brown eyes obviously panicking.

You watched as Hyunwoo got back up from his crouched position, his eyes fixated on your gun. You clenched your jaw, your other hand going for your communicator, the one that every NCT member has where you’re able to communicate over a 30-mile range. You didn’t want to take any chances, especially since you were alone with four students who could overpower you if they tried hard enough.

Not to mention that you hoped that Hyunwoo didn’t find the hidden gun in your desk’s drawer. Even if it’s locked, you didn’t know what else they broke into.

You moved your gaze to Ezra, who had turned around when you asked what they were doing for the second time. Out of all of them, he was the one that was the most agitated. The one was looked torn between helping his friends in whatever business they had in your office and answering your question.

So you, being the person you are, picked on him. You had to figure out what they were doing and you were sure the three others weren’t going to tell you. You stared at the black-haired student with hazel eyes while keeping an eye on everyone else, the only disadvantage was that Chris was near the bookshelf, which was completely behind you as you stepped foot into the room. “Ezra.”

The nineteen-year-old jumped, not expecting you to talk to him first, especially since he’s the youngest out of the friend group. He started at you while his fingers were trembling. You almost felt bad, maybe you would’ve if they didn’t break into your office. “Y-yes?”

“What are you doing?” From the corner of your eye, you see Hyunwoo reach his hand down and pull out something just as fast, making you pull out your gun and point it at the youngest male. You see everyone’s eyes widen as Hyunwoo now pulls the gun on you, cocking in back, loading a bullet. You don’t mind the twenty-one year old, turning your head towards Ezra again, you calmly question, “Ezra, what do you guys have planned?”

“Don’t you fucking answer her, Ezra.” The older male growled lowly, his deep, gravel voice making the growl almost animalistic.

“Ezra,” you call his name once more which makes him look at you, “what are you guys doing-?”

“Shut up before I blow your brains out!” You were about to point out that the door was open, that it would be stupid for him to shoot you right in the open. That was until Chris closed it. You cursed under your breath as you were now running out of options.

You, however, kept your cool and turned your attention to the student with the gun pointed at you. “No, you won’t.”

Hyunwoo was caught off guard by your boldness, certainly baffled by the fact that you weren't fazed by someone holding a gun towards you. He shook his head for a few moments before ceasing, “and why not?” His voice made himself sound a lot tougher than he was but his body language was a completely different story. He was scared and nervous; never a good combo when holding a gun.

You scoffed under your breath, analyzing the current situation you’re currently in. “One; you shoot me, one, you won’t have anyone to frame in your little scheme. Two, that gun doesn’t have a silencer, meaning that in a one-mile radius, everyone in this very building and in the other ones will hear it and three, the gunshot will make the academy go into lockdown which means you and everyone here won’t have enough time to run before one of the higher-ups find you.” You list off while deadpanning.

“That’s why you can’t shoot me.”

You saw Hyunwoo think about what you said as you saw Chan move from the desk with his hands raised. He looked at you in plea, hoping you wouldn’t do anything to his younger friend. “Captain please, don’t shoot him.”

You rolled your eyes at this, “obviously should’ve thought of the consequences before breaking into my office.” You cocked the gun back, scaring both Ezra and Chan. “Now, what the hell are you guys doing in my office and what do you guys have planned?”

You weren’t stupid; you weren’t going to shoot the guy-- unless necessary-- you just needed the information about what the hell Jihoon was planning and what they were doing. You wouldn’t shoot Ezra to evoke fear out of his friends, it’ll give them more of a reason to attack you.

At which, you were at a complete disadvantage. Two of the students here, Ezra and Hyunwoo were amazing at hand to hand combat even if Ezra still lacks a soldier exterior and Hyunwoo was hot-headed and added tech genius. Chan was better with weapons as you’ve heard from Haechan, from a wide range of handguns and heavy-duty arms. You were fine right now since he didn’t have access to a gun. As for Chris, he was an extreme strategist and like the first two, great in hand-to-hand combat; him having the top grades in your class. You needed to look out for him, he was the biggest threat to you currently.

“Please, don’t shoot me.” You glanced at the youngest, seeing tears form in his eyes, “I’ll tell you--”

“Ezra!”

“I'll tell you,” he ignored Chris’s call and nodded his head, “I’ll tell you everything you want to know, just please, put the gun down.”

You shook your head and clicked your tongue, “can’t do that, not with Chris being behind me and Hyunwoo with a gun pointed to my head; you’re my only leverage.” You weren’t lying, you knew that as soon as the gun was off of him, Chris was going to attack you and the other two would join in.

At this point, you weren’t the ‘soft and nice’ version of yourself, you were the version of yourself that got you your position as Captain, the more ruthless and heartless version of yourself. Did you hate it? No. Do you wish that this situation never occurred? Of course.

“Okay, okay,” the youngest nodded his head while looking at you with teary eyes, “I’ll tell you but you need to promise you won’t hurt them.”

Chan sighed heavily, slowing going back to where he previously was next to Hyunwoo, “Ezra, stop talking--”

“Be quiet,” you hushed the other as you looked back at him, “if they don’t try anything, I won’t try anything. You have my word.”

They were students after all. They, in fact, are very that 127 or Dreamies found them rummaging through your things, hell, even WayV. They’re very much, actions first, ask questions later. Exactly the reason why all the Dreamies were in tier one (which is a story for another day) and why you’re sometimes so frustrated with half of 127, especially Taeyong (cue him telling Jisung it was okay to punch Jihoon). You were more of a gain more information now and see what you do with the person later.

Which was what you were currently doing.

“We’re trying to frame you,” he said as everyone around expressed sounds of disappointment and annoyance. He ignored them and continued, “we broke into your office to find any information about your mission or anything that could look bad on you.”

You lifted your eyebrows and waved your gun, urging him to continue as you know there's more to the story. “And who exactly were you going to give this information to? The higher-ups? Go as far as to give it Taeyong?”

Ezra glanced at his friends, who kept shaking their heads in disapproval. You saw him hesitate and now you were getting frustrated with the entire ordeal. To be honest, if it were any other day, you would’ve been fuming. However, you won't say you didn't see this coming; you weren’t surprised that they’re trying to frame you especially after Jihoon’s little speech.

“Ezra, do not waste my time.” You clenched your jaw and rasped out, “you and everyone here are already caught, there's no need to keep quiet unless you want me to call my backup right now,” you threatened. “You know, out of the Dreamies, Jisung is the most patient but even he punched Jihoon over stuff he said about me. How do you think everyone else will react when they find out that you broke into my office and were trying to frame me over whatever it is?”

You saw his face fall, even more than before, as he nodded his head but not convinced. You sighed again, your voice more straightforward than before, a mocking smirk on your face, “now if you think that’s bad, how do you think 127 will react… hell WayV is back and they have one of the top-ranked interrogators in China and South Korea.”

“Okay! Okay!”

You raised your eyebrow when he cracked further. You thought it was too easy, way too easy for a student in the second-tier. Then again, Xiaojun, Renjun and Jungwoo were pretty scary.

“Well then,” at this point, you were too focused on Ezra that you currently cared less about what the others were doing. Something you know will bite in your ass later. “Who were you going to sell or give the information to?”

“Ezra!” Chris yelled from behind you, making your head tilt towards the eldest in the room. His gaze was fixated on the youngest, his gaze sinking into his skull, “shut up.”

“No, he won't,” you snapped, fed up with their attempt to stopping him from telling you what you needed to know, “he agreed to confess to what you guys were doing, let him speak.”

“He didn’t agree to shit!” The messy blonde male yelled at you, his jaw visibly clenched, his hands stuffed into his pockets, “the only reason he’s talking is because you have a fucking gun to his head.”

You scoffed, using your other hand to point to Hyunwoo who was still pointing a gun to your head, “a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“The Dragons!” Ezra finally exploded, his voice rising, “Jihoon made a deal with them when you first left; he offered to tell them all the things he learned as a student as well as information they didn't have on you- so then we started looking for files that could help them figure out who you are since you aren’t in their database and Hyunwoo came across a file about your mission which was locked away really far since it took us about an hour to find something on you and he sent it to Jihoon. Basically, The Dragons found out who you were using the info and Jihoon and Hyunwoo’s help as a hacker, they found out what happened about whatever happened in Canada and so they are planning an attack tonight at midnight for revenge.”

Your eyes widen, shock overtaking your body. You didn’t even have time to think about the information learnt Chris ushered, “son of a bitch!”

And started attacking you.

You moved out of the way in time to avoid his kick but his foot hit your hand, knocking the gun out of your grasp and landing in Ezra’s hand. You ignored it and started attacking the person in front of you, finally considering him as a traitor.

They broke into your office, sold your information to NCT’s worst enemies and basically set up a hit on the base for midnight tonight? And you being the only one knowing about it since you practically forced it out of à student at gunpoint?

This was bad, you understood the absolute severity of the situation. Although 127 had men from all over SK and many allies, it was already six o'clock, there’s no way the allies were going to get here in time and decipher a plan of defence. That is if you don’t tell them right away. You need to take care of them first and at the same time, contact the members to alert them of the situation.

You knocked Chris’s punch away from you, ducking under his arm and striking him in the stomach. You turned around when you heard someone approaching you and deflecting the blow to your face with your forearm, taking Chan by surprise. You dodged his headbutt and hit him on the side of his stomach at which he didn’t flinch, only returning a hit to your shoulder. Although it landed, you didn’t bother worrying about it and avoided his chokehold. You pushed him off of you and moved away just in time for both males to run into each other in an attempt to combo attack you. Turning around, you see Hyunwoo running straight at you and knocked you on your back.

You let out a sharp puff of air, dazed for only a few seconds in time to use your arms to block the punches to your face. Quickly grabbing his arms, your bucked your hips towards the air and shot them to the right, throwing Hyunwoo to the side falling off of you.

You were suddenly being pulled from your foot, Chan pulling your away Hyunwoo. You pulled up while grabbing his arms and twisting them in hope that the pain would get him to let up. He only groans in pain but continues pulling you. Seeing as it wasn’t working, you tucked your other leg under the other one, in between his arms and pushing your foot on his stomach, creating enough force to knock him back and falling atop of the desk.

You hastily get back to your feet, only for someone to kick your back, making you tumble back on the floor. You moan at the pain in your lower back but roll away as soon as you see a foot above your face, nearly hitting you. You get back up but when a kick lands on your stomach, you're knocked straight into the bookshelf, a couple of books falling on top of you.

You stayed dizzy for a few seconds, your mind becoming fuzzy. You let out a quick sigh and through a punch to the nearest person approaching you. He falls to the floor as you move to your next target. You send a roundhouse kick to Chris, one that he ducks under but he isn’t fast enough to block upright kick, which was a blow to the shoulder.

Chan had quietly approached you from behind and put you in a chokehold, attempting to knock you out. You launch your head backwards and pry his fingers from your shoulders, pinning his arms behind his back, crouching behind him and use him as a shield from Hyunwoo who accidentally punches his gut.

You push him onto Hyunwoo, knocking them both on the floor. Just when you thought you were clear to use your communicator, you’re knocked to the side with someone sitting on top of you pining your arms over your head and starting punching you repeatedly on your face and chest. You struggle getting Chris off of you, his waist too far down to use your legs. You let out multiple groans of pain as you start seeing stars.

You snarl and rip your arms from his hand, pushing him off of you while throwing à punch to his jaw. You breathe heavily, your chest-thumping from both the already forming bruises and your racing heart.

You get on your knees, about to get back up when someone puts you in another chokehold. You’re not able to do anything when you’re suddenly hit on the head with what you presume to be the back of a gun.

Your entire vision starts to fuzz up, the dizziness and nauseous hitting you hard as the chokehold only gets tighter and tighter. You try prying his arm from your neck but eventually, you start slipping unconscious, the last words you hear resonate with you until you wake up.

"I'm sorry."

"No!"

The young girl slapped her hand across her mouth and tore her gaze away from the slightly opened door. You were in there, you were either hurt or even possibly... No, she wasn't going to think about that, not about your potential death. She knew you weren't, despite not able to see anything, she heard a loud thud, presumably your body. She knew what a stab sounded like as well as a gunshot, it couldn't have been either. Maybe it was your body hitting the ground, she couldn't tell.

Lia had heard everything, from the fighting to their plan; she knew that Jihoon was already on his way to The Dragons to give them whatever information they had on you, whether it was good or bad. Either way, she could accept that it’ll make the Dragons upset. She was so shocked that during the entire ordeal that she could just listen and gather as much information as possible before finding someone that could help.

And that time was now considering they heard her gasp.

She should've listened to her gut; she should have come sooner, everything could have been avoided or even interrupted if she had gone to get help. But her instincts told her to wait; she was now the only one who could warn the others about the plan now that you were unconscious. Her hand balled into a first as she leaned her back on the wall as quietly as she could. Her heart was racing and her mind thought of her training; she could do this, just had to be smart about it.

“You head that too right?” Chris whispered to Chan while panting heavily, “sounded it came from…” Lia’s eyes widened.

"Check how it is, if they run, both of you ran after them... make sure they don't get away."

The only thing that separated them was the door and she was moments away from being killed. She looked to her left; the pathway over there led to a dead-end, the only thing there was the rest of the Dreamies offices and if they had heard the entire fight like she had, they would've been here by now. The only reason Lia was in front of your office was that she was, to her denial, eager to talk to you about your mission. She thanks her lucky stars for her curiosity. To her right was the hallway she walked from, leading to a gateway of stairs that led to the second-floor lounge and an exit at the bottom of the steps, followed by a fire alarm.

If she could get there by running fast enough, she would be able to trigger it and run outside to the student evacuation zone and alert the military personnel. One shot, she told herself, I have one shot at this.

She braced herself and bolted seconds before they opened the door, a string of swear words leaving Chris's mouth. “Fuck! Lia!” Chris ran after her, gun took from Ezra while Chan followed suit, gun was stolen from you.

The brown-haired girl ran as fast as she could, her legs picking up the pace as the footsteps follow behind her. One shot, one shot, one shot, she kept repeating to herself. She heard the footsteps gain speed on her as she flew around the corner and pushed the door opened, jumping over the rail and onto the other set of stairs, glancing up to see both men already opening the door. Lia's heart sunk, were they that close to her? She shook her head and picked up the pace, scurrying down the stairs, almost jumping over sets of three before landing near the door.

"She's going outside!"

"Take the left to cut her off!"

“Come on,” her heart was racing as she glanced up again, this time seeing that their guns are drawn. Visibly panicking, Lia's hands fumbled on the fire alarm and finally pulled it, her hands now covered in dark blue ink and a loud, excruciating bell echoing through the halls and filling every room and pathway in all three buildings. Even if she wanted to go directly towards the teachers, that door was locked by a bio-passcode, she couldn't go through even if she wanted.

A hand landed on her shoulder and spun her around, a small yell ripping through the teen's throat, too quiet to be heard over the alarm. Chan groaned when she kicked his lower waist and inhaled sharply among the pain. Lia hastily opened the metal door and shut it as soon as Chris put his hand through to stop her, shutting on his fingers and amputating two, a string of anguished cries cutting through the thick and dense atmosphere surrounding the three. His fingers fell on the floor and bleed out, bone poking out of the severed organism.

Stumbling on her steps as a cold wind ran through her hair, Lia pushed her glasses up before taking off, the traitors collecting themselves before running after her a short while later.

The sun was setting as the alarm ran through the rooms, offices and hallways. Every student, whether asleep, socializing or studying got up upon the loud blaring sound. Some jumped while others only sighed and complained about a fire drill this late in the evening but still went out, some grabbing their coats. Some teachers glanced at the flashing light before their eyebrows raised in confusion but still went out nonetheless. They filled out of their dorms, libraries and practice rooms, teachers ushering them out while communicating with others, making sure no student was left behind.

Soon, the entire facility was vacant, save you still tied to your chair and unconscious. Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun, who had been walking back to their offices looked at the light and glanced at each other. They also wanted to stop by yours, figuring they haven't seen you since you came back but upon seeing the closed door, lack of noise and turned off light, they presumed you were already out.

“Did Taeyong or Mark even tell you guys we were running a drill?” asked Jeno while looking down the hall, "unless it was a last-minute thing, I didn't hear anything."

“No, it’s the first I’ve heard of it,” Renjun glanced at his com before asking, “hey, did any of you guys know?”

The rest of the Dreamies, including Mark, answered with a no. Jaemin glanced at the clock, “you don’t think one of the students pulled it, do you? A lot of them have tests tomorrow.”

“Don’t know,” Jeno shrugged while ruffling his hair, “we’ll have to search for anyone still inside, look for students with blue hands too.”

Blue hands. Each time someone pulled the fire alarm if it wasn’t set off in the official’s offices, would have stained blue hands to catch the culprits. Even if the perpetrator wore gloves, the ink could be seen with a UV light, any speckle could be seen either way.

“Hey guys,” Renjun spoke again in his comm, “Jeno, Jaemin and I will check the student quarters, can you guys check levels one and two?”

“Already cleared,” Mark’s voice came through with a sigh, “waiting outside right now. To our knowledge, only a handful of students are missing and 127 are coming out, WayV already here-- have you seen (Y/n)?”

The Dreamies looked at your office they had just passed, Renjun looking under the door to make sure the light was off. "No, we haven't. We just got on the third floor when the alarm started so I'm guessing she's already out if not going right now. Either way, she's not in her office."

Jaemin had a feeling, it wasn't remotely bad, it was just odd. Wouldn't he have heard you leave the room? Maybe you never came here in the first place... but you would've if that meeting with Jihoon and his friends still happened but considering the closed door and turned off lights, he presumed that it had already finished. Or so he hoped.

“Copy,” Mark answered before deactivating, "don't be too long." He lowered her wrist before looking at the soldiers behind him. The students were in the evacuation zone, instructed to stay whenever a fire or emergency were to occur. Quiet murmurs were among them but not too loud to be annoying.

Six students were missing, five of them being the group of delinquent boys and one of them being Min Lia, the youngest student in Neo Culture. She should be here by now, Mark knew that she would’ve been the first to be out, considering she’s one of the most prominent students here despite being young. He had the chance to work with her before and after you left; Lia reminded him so much of you, especially when fighting. You both had the same style and technique despite hers before undeveloped, it was there. You both were also strategic. He only hoped to see him in a few moments. You as well.

Mark proceeded to look at Lucas and Yangyang, both WayV members with him at the time the alarm ran out. “Jaemin, Renjun and Jeno are checking the student quarters to see if anyone’s left.”

“Alright but I doubt they have any luck finding anyone,” Yangyang sighed, “no matter where you are in the building, those alarms are loud, everyone should be here.”

“Better to be safe than sorry I guess,” Lucas looked over the crowd, “I might not know every student here but the field is pretty filled.” Before he could explain further, Taeyong had walked out the west side doors.

Once they had all arrived, sun still setting in the background with a brisk wind ruffling their hair, Taeyong looked around before voicing out, “there’s no fire.”

The members dawned in a state of wonder before Taeyong regained control, “checked the cams, no smoke, no blaze, nothing. Either it was a prank or it was deliberately set off.”

“Why would someone deliberately pull the alarm?” Sungchan asked with raised eyebrows, “unless you think it was an attack from the inside.”

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”

"But who?" Questioned Jisung, "they wouldn't do that... I can't think of anyone who could..."

He stopped himself upon realizing that they were some students that could set the fire alarm, that he had been wrong. Before saying anything else, Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun all walked out and joined upon seeing all of them gathered together. Jeno was the first to speak, bringing everyone to pay attention, "no students are in their quarters, completely vacant."

"That means no one should be in the buildings," Doyoung whispered with an unsatisfied tone, "but that's not right."

"How so?"

"Six students are missing," Chenle answered, looking around him before his gaze landed on Mark. "Nearly all of them should've been with (Y/n) at the time of the alarm." A silence fell over the personnel, their eyes scanning the group.

"Then where is she?" Kun was the first to voice, eyebrows scrunched. "She should've been here by now."

"That's the thing," Jeno said with a heavy air to his tone, "her office lights were killed, there's no way she could be there. IF she was, the other boys would be there too but the room was completely silent."

"Then where the hell is she?" No one could answer Ten's question, minds scattering to come up with an answer. They didn't know where you were and what's scarier is that they didn't know if the delinquents, who are now traitors unbeknownst to their knowledge, were with you or somehow connected.

"Who else is missing?"

"Min Lia," Mark looked at Taeil, jaw clenched, irritation behind his eyes. "Her and (Y/n) are close, wouldn't be shocked if they were together."

"So you're telling me that not only if the captain of D.R.E.A.M.S is missing but six students are along with her? Five of them wreaking havoc during her absence?" Yuta ran a hand on his mouth, "did anyone try calling her?"

"Numerous times yeah," Haechan nodded with a click to his tongue, "hasn't responded since the last time I've called her."

“The passcode bar was broken,” Jaemin suddenly rushed out and shared with the group, eyes widening as he cursed under his breath, “wasn’t broken before she got here.”

"Call a code yellow," Taeyong ordered as soon as his suspicions were made clear, although he hoped he was wrong. His hand was already on his holster when he looked at the annoyed students pacing, waiting to go back inside. "Six students and a captain missing despite the alarm pulled and put a code white on the five boys, someone pulled that fire alarm intentionally and I don't think it was any of the second tiers."

As if nothing could get worse, two gunshots rang out from outside near the center of the academy, not too far from the evacuation zone. Everyone ducked in case of an oncoming bullet, screams and cries from students disturbed the once irritated atmosphere and it quickly induced fear and panic in the younger classmates. Taeyong was the first to react, drawing his gun and hooking his com in his ear, knowing that whatever's happening was much bigger than he thought.

The General yelled commands over the yells, “WayV go inside and look for any threats and search every room, including those who are barricade with passcodes. 127, secure the perimeter and Dreamies, escort the students to the bunker and then I want Jeno and Haechan helping WayV look for any threats while the rest of you are on cams. Report back immediately if anything happens, I want eyes and ears on everything, understood?”

"Understood."

"Go now!”

46 notes · View notes

geniusgub · 3 years

Text

north//chapter fifteen

genre: angst

warnings: prison, mentions of solitary confinement, mentions of physical abuse, spoilers for The Good Doctor, spoilers for Lucifer, alcohol, drugging

word count: 7.1k

summary: spencer gets used to life in prison in the worst ways. amelia goes through a rollercoaster of emotions and tries to cope with spencer being out of reach. she tries to stay positive and convince others that she is okay.

i’d like to say once again that having a good understanding of the prison arc is helpful in reading this fic. i don’t explain every single detail (because it’s unnecessary to) and if you’re not familiar w the storyline, it’ll be harder to comprehend.

school is over so i’ll have more time to edit and post!!!! yay!! enjoy the chapter :)

SPENCER

"Is that clear?"

"Yes, yes, it's clear!"

My heart pounds against my chest and that's all I can feel. Absolute fear and absolute helplessness. I can't do anything here. I've accepted that but maybe I've just been lying to myself. How can I ever accept that I can't do anything to protect myself or protect others? I’ve spent my life protecting. I need to protect. I need to.

The fear and the panic are overwhelming and I'm thrashing around. I can't do anything to stop it. I wish it would stop. The panic is overwhelming. It's consuming. It's eating me alive. It’s too uch. It’s way too much. I need to go and protect. I need to protect.

"Help! Help!"

I jerk awake, drenched in sweat and my hair matted to my forehead. The images of my dead friend are still flashing in my head and as badly as I want to forget, I know I never will. My back and bottom ache from the metal cot I’m on, my limbs stiff in the smaller-than-twin, poor excuse of a mattress.

I twist my body and reach under my pillow, pulling out the journal that my counselor had given me and the pencil, scribbling down my stream of consciousness as quickly as I possibly can. It's barely readable in my chicken scratch writing but who cares enough to read what I have to say anyway? No one. Nobody cares here. Nobody cares about me. I’m nothing.

Getting more and more intense. Got to fall deeper in to beat them. I've lost friends before, but not like this. Not in a box where I have no control. Or do I? Starting to think like them, starting to survive like them. I'm here because I made a choice. What if that means I don't get out alive?

My blood runs cold as I dot the question mark with my trembling hand. I swipe my hand across my dripping forehead and grimace at how wet my hand comes back. I throw my journal onto the floor and lay back down, forcing my eyelids closed.

How could I expect myself to sleep? I'm foolish to think I will. But I keep up the illusion for a while and keep my eyes closed, hoping that sleep will draw me in, but it never does. I just keep replaying the events that plague me every night, and eventually, my eyelids snap open again. The gory images were too much. Then the beautiful, blonde-haired, blue-eyed images became too painful. I scrunch up my eyebrows when I feel a headache forming between them.

My eyes immediately land on the journal, and red hot flames replace my brown orbs. That journal is horrible. It's filled with depressing content and it's falling apart and it's a disgusting brown color. It doesn't have my name in beautiful calligraphy on the front, and perfect drawings of beakers and coffee cups and strawberries and books and records players and decks of cards, and my confessions of love for my girlfriend inside. It doesn't have any of that beauty on the inside. No, this journal contains my deteriorating mind and my disappearing conscience.

Barely having control of my tired muscles, I roll off the bed and land on my hands and knees, holding in my grunts of agony. The cell block is almost silent, aside from the fans blowing around stale, warm air, and I don't intend to piss off anyone by disrupting their sleep. I keep my mouth shut after the initial impact sound.

I make the bed. I fold the corner of the sheets, so they are absolutely perfect. I fold the blanket and tuck it under the mattress. I smooth my hands over the top of the bed to make it perfect. It has to be perfect. If the bed isn’t perfect, it will get torn apart by the officers. They will rip up my bed and take away my blanket and pillow and humiliate me in front of the whole cell block. I don’t need that to happen again. I experienced that on my first week here and I vowed to never let it happen again. I make the bed and then I make it again, then fix it, then arrange it perfectly one more time. Finally. Perfection. It has to be perfect.

I push my journal against the wall and lay on my back, setting my feet flat against the floor and tucking my hands behind my head. I keep count in my mind as I lift my chin to my knees, ignoring the burn in my abs and the sharp pain in my spine from the concrete I'm rolling my bones against.

Once I've reached my goal number, twenty higher than yesterday’s number, I roll over onto my hands and lift myself up, and start my press ups. I begin a new, higher count in my head as I continuously bring my nose to the concrete, and with each time my biceps flex, the anger flares up. I clench my jaw and my stomach bubbles and my head gets light.

Fuck prison. Fuck it. Fuck the fact that I have to be here. Fuck Frazier and fuck his gang and fuck his shank and fuck the fact that he killed Luis. Fuck this whole situation. This is madness.

I'm becoming them. I am them. I either become them or I die, and I refuse to die in here. I refuse to die without curing Alzheimer's and getting married and having children and spending my life hunting the very people I'm locked in here with. I refuse to die knowing that there's a whole life I could live if I keep fighting. I refuse to break law after law in here like my life doesn't matter in the free world. I refuse to lose the person that I was, even if he's slipping further and further away by the second. Even if every time I try to recall the person I was, the images of my own face get more and more blurry. They’re hard to make out.

And maybe he's already gone and I've already sucked in the traits of the felons around me. Maybe I just refuse to accept who I am now. That's more likely than the lies I feed myself.

I work my muscles until the sun peeks in through the tiny window across from my cell. I'm drenched in sweat, even more than before, and my muscles are aching, but it's easy to forget. And if I can't forget, then it's easy to revel and bask in the intense pain.

The correctional officers bring us to the chow hall and we all collect our disgusting food and eat as quickly as possible. We usually only have three minutes for meals. Three minutes. That's it. It was horrible at first. I had to sit at a table, alone, with my shoulders hunched, shoveling food into my mouth. If you don’t eat at chow, you don’t eat at all. I always used to go back to my cell and curl up in my bed, thinking I was going to throw up. The combination of moldy, rotten food and a three-minute time crunch to eat has horrifying results. But now, three minutes is child's play. Three minutes is eating leisurely. I could eat my entire meal in exactly two minutes and twenty-seven seconds. Three minutes, now, is generous.

After breakfast is visitation and, to no one’s surprise, my name is called. I wonder who's on Garcia's list for today. They haven't managed to stick to a set schedule yet, due to cases and traveling, so I have no way of predicting who I'll see. I’m always left to wander into the visitation room and come up with lies on the spot.

I stick my hands out and allow Wilkins to slap cuffs on me, but I never meet his eyes. I wouldn't dare to. No amount of crunches or push-ups will ever prepare me to take him. I keep my eyes down and, shamefully, let him push me towards the visitation room.

I scan the little tables for a familiar face and smile the tiniest bit when I see Rossi sitting and waiting for me. He hasn't come to visit me yet, and out of the two people I don't want to visit me at all-- my girlfriend and my mom-- I've been waiting to see him. I resist the urge to push the person in front of me to get as much time with Rossi as possible. I wouldn’t dare risk pushing someone. I don't need a fight to send me to solitary confinement. Huh. Actually, solitary confinement doesn't seem too bad right now. I could get away from all these other inmates who want to hurt me. I could relax in solitary.

I sit down and just give Rossi an expecting look, utterly speechless. I've had so many questions to ask him. I've needed so much advice, but now I have nothing to say. My voice is stuck in my throat. His facial hair is longer. The bags under his eyes are a shade darker. Luckily, he speaks first. "You haven't slept." Okay, not what I wanted or needed him to say.

I just shrug nonchalantly. "It's been a while." What else can I say?

Rossi just nods. What else can he do? "I heard about your friend, Delgado. I'm really sorry, Spence," Again, not what I wanted or needed him to say. I don't want to hear or talk about Luis anymore. I'm tired of dwelling on that. I feel guilty enough. I don't need to see his slit throat every time I close my eyes and then open my eyes and talk about him. I don't need that. When I'm unresponsive to this, Rossi continues. "Is there anyone you can talk to?"

I roll my eyes to the back of my head. If my mother were here, she would warn me that if I do that long enough, my eyes would get stuck there. "We have group therapy once a week. The counselor wants me to keep a journal. So I am, but I don't really think it's helping."

Rossi's furrows his eyebrows. "How come?"

A scoff escapes my lips before I can stop it. "Because no one in here is honest. I mean, not a single person can admit that they're terrified," my cuffs rattle as I move my hands as if to hone in what I'm saying. "If we can't agree on that one basic truth, then it doesn't really matter."

"They could just be numb to it all." That's what Rossi offers up. It could help. It would help if I was in the free world.

"Well," my voice softens and even though I know there are gang members around me and people who want to hurt me, I let my guard down, "I'm not. There's," I drop my head the tiniest bit, "there's a helplessness in here that causes people to do things they'd never consider."

Rossi sighs, and this was what I was scared of. I open up and he has nothing to say to me. He has no world-class wisdom to offer. I'm prepared to do what I did to Garcia and practically ignore him for the rest of the visit, but when he reaches into his jacket, my intrigue beats out my disappointment.

I recognize the calligraphy on the front of the envelope as soon as I see it. It's on the front of every single one of my journals that still lay in my desk drawer. It looks as beautiful as ever in black ink, outlined and accented in a yellow pen. There's a lump in my throat that I try to swallow.

"I had to flash my badge just to get it in here so you better read it. I'm not letting you refuse to read this like you refuse to see her," Rossi moves the letter closer to me, directly in my eyesight.

I swallow the thick lump and slowly raise my cuffed hands to grab the envelope. I carefully, without ripping my cursive name, make a slice in the top with my finger and pull out pieces of paper that I recognize to be paper ripped out of Amelia's journal.

"Did you read this?" I ask Rossi as I place the envelope down.

"It was still sealed, wasn't it?"

I nod and stay silent as I drop my head again. I could cry just at the sight of Amelia's handwriting. She touched this paper. This specific piece of paper. This piece of paper was in her hands, in her apartment, and now it’s in my hands. She sat and put pen to paper and wrote this out for me to read. And with one final breath, I finally bring myself to actually start reading it.

To my love dove,

Hi!! How are you? I'm only okay, but there's something I need to tell you can it can't wait any longer.

I started watching this tv show called The Good Doctor a few weeks ago and I've finished the entire series. Honestly, Spencer, it's so amazing. I think you would love it so much.

I know you don't watch that much tv, unless I'm around, so I'll tell you what it's about. The show is about this resident surgeon named Shaun Murphy who is fighting to get a job at a hospital, but the administration of the hospital won't give him a job because he has autism. But then he saves a child's life in an airport or something (I can't remember exactly, it’s been a while) and does a procedure that is really innovative and outside the box and it floors everyone and the hospital hires him.

The show follows him navigating adult life and relationships and his job and him learning how to be less dependent on older people telling him what to do. He gets a girlfriend and loses his virginity and then starts talking about sex at work which is fucking hilarious but also stupidly inappropriate, and he has a friend who's a girl who his girlfriend has a problem with.

And then (I'm sorry, baby, but spoilers are coming!!) they kill off one of the main characters at the end of the third season! How dumb! Melendez was one of my favorite characters and he was just about to admit to Claire that he's in love with her and then they killed him off for such a stupid reason. The season ends on a cliffhanger! You know how much I hate cliffhangers. And that plot of Claire and Melendez falling in love was teased at for so long and they gave it to us just to take it right away!!!! Cruel!! Do I have grounds to sue for emotional distress? I think there is. I should get on this.

Okay. I've calmed down now.

Fine. You caught me. I haven't. I'll never calm down from my heartbreak over Dr. Melendez. But I can move on for now.

I think you would really like this show and I'd be willing to watch it again with you. I think you'd enjoy it. They talk a lot about medical terms and medical procedures and there’s diagrams and everything. And whether they're accurate and precise or not, I'm sure you'd enjoy picking out mistakes in the procedures or telling me why the procedures are revolutionary. And no matter which option it is, I'm ready to listen and learn.

Before I watched The Good Doctor, I finished watching Lucifer, but I know that you hated that show. But he went back to Hell!!!!!!!!!!! He really did That!!!!! He left Chloe and went to Hell!!!!!! So fucking rude. I screamed out loud when he said he was leaving. Thankfully, there's going to be a season five and maybe I'll make you watch that with me so we can see what happens with Lucifer and Chloe. I debated on watching Star Trek or Doctor Who because you're always talking about how much you love those shows, but I know I won't understand it. I'll need you to explain it to me. I think I'll just wait to watch those with you. Sounds like a good date night to me.

I love you more than words can even express. I miss you more than I will ever be able to say (or in this case, write). I know you're not doing well and I know you don't want to see me but I hope that hearing from me helps you in some way. I don't know how it would but I hope it does.

I love you. I promise, I'll see you so soon.

With all the love in my tiny body,

from your pretty girl,

Amelia <3

ps. idk if you're shaving your face in there but... I'm curious to see what you look like with a mustache and beard... that's a sight I never thought you'd let me see. Hmm. I shouldn't let my mind wander. Sorry. I love you. Kisses.

I read over her letter once, twice, three times. Every time I read it, I notice something new. Every time I read the letter, I notice a teardrop beside a word, of a subtle smudge of a pen, or another hesitation in her pen stroke.

I read it again. And then I read it again. But then I read it one more time. And just when I think I've had enough, I read it another time. I’m on the tenth read before the wheels actually start turning in my head, slower than usual. This letter has distraction written all over it in Amelia’s pretty writing. I don't like medical dramas and I hated Lucifer. She knows that. She acknowledged that in her letter. But this is the kind of thing she would tell me as we're eating dinner when I get home from a case, or as we're laying in bed, or when we're showering, or when we're sitting on the balcony of one of our apartments. This serves that purpose, except this time, it's in letter form. She's distracting me. God, I would give anything to break out of here and drag her to a courthouse and marry her right now.

"Reid?"

My head snaps up when Rossi speaks, and when I force our eyes to meet, he's holding out a pen. I know for a fact that pens aren't allowed. Pens could be considered a weapon in the hands of the wrong inmate. He snuck this in, and I'm not sure how, but I don't want to know how.

I snatch the pen out of his hand and rip the sides of the envelope so there's more room to write, scribbling down my thoughts as fast as possible. I don't want to get caught. If I do, I can't imagine the trouble I'll get in, especially if Wilkins catches me. When I'm pleased with what I've written, I fold up the envelope and hand that and the pen back to Rossi. But I keep the letter, tucking it into the waistband of my pants so it's completely out of sight.

Rossi smiles, putting the envelope back in his jacket pocket and flattening the lapels. "Is there anything you want me to tell her?"

"Tell her--" I'm cut off by a sharp alarm going off, a guard screaming about a lockdown, and for all the inmates to return to their cells. I sigh, rising to my feet. "It's all there. Just give that to her."

///

AMELIA

///

"Hi, Jeannie," My voice is only a mumble as I greet the receptionist. She gives me a pitiful smile, another new tradition that has only formed in the last few weeks, handing over a visitor's pass and watching as I clip it to the pocket of my jacket.

I drag myself to the elevator and hit the up button, drag myself inside, and when it opens on the sixth floor, I drag myself to Penelope's office. My mood is lower than it has been lately. I didn’t really think it could get any lower. But here I am with a heart heart, hunched shoulders, and the inability to smile. I'm not sure why I feel like this on this specific day, as opposed to any other shitty day, but maybe it's because I know that Penelope went to visit Spencer today. All I know is that I barely wanted to drag myself off of Jenna's couch this morning and get dressed and show up here. I could barely pay attention to the new episode of The Good Doctor that Jenna coaxed me into watching with her last night. I could barely get myself to come through the front doors of the building, but I show up to the BAU every single morning like I work here.

I plug in the code to Penelope's door and push it open, and I’m welcomed to a sight that I didn't think I'd see for a while. Luke is kneeling in front of Penelope, and at first, I think that he's finally confessing his feelings for her. My first intention is to silently back away and let them have their moment. His hands are on her knees and she isn’t insulting him, so nothing about this interaction could be bad, right? But then I notice that she's crying, and my heart drops. I don’t back away.

My hand slips off the doorknob and it slams shut, making me flinch on impact. The two stare up at me like deer caught in headlights. I see this expression way too much for my liking nowadays. And judging by the sheer fact that there are still tears dripping down Penelope's cheeks, this isn't good. Nothing is ever good anymore.

"What happened?" I don't step closer, I don't grab Penelope's hand, I don't touch Luke's shoulder. My heart is pounding against my chest and my hands are starting to shake.

Luke glances at Penelope before rising to his feet. "Garcia went to see Reid today."

"I know," I snap faster than I intended to. "What happened to him? Is he okay? What--" my voice betrays me and I can't choke out another question.

Luke sucks in a breath, keeping a stony, emotionless face. "He got beat up."

"Beat up?" I regurgitate the disgusting words that have just been spewed at me, backing myself against the wall. "He got--"

Penelope stands up and moves towards me, lacking her normal finesse. "His face had bruises and he seemed agitated but he seemed fine otherwise--"

"He's not fine if he got beat up," My anger, somehow, quickly dissipates and turns to heartache. My heart pounds against my chest at an alarming rate. My eyes flood with tears and my knees start to give out from under me, and I go sliding to the ground, curling into myself. "He's trapped inside with the people who beat him up and there's nothing he can do."

"Listen," Luke kneels in front of me and places a hand on my shoulder, but I can't bring myself to shake it off or even look up at him, "I'm gonna get an extra set of eyes on Reid. He's mentioned something about another inmate that sounds like an ex-FBI agent, and I think I know how I can get him to protect Reid. Amelia, he's gonna be okay. I'm gonna go to the prison right now and figure this all out. You call me if you need anything at all."

Luke stands again and smiles at Penelope, quickly leaving the room. And once he's gone, Penelope takes his place on the floor beside me, sitting with her legs straight out. She's silent, but I'm not sure why. Is she giving me space? Is she waiting for me to speak? Is she figuring out what to say? Is she too scared to say anything? I wouldn't blame her if she was. I'm not the person I was anymore.

I reach into my pocket and pull out Spencer's medallion, passing it between my fingers. "I'm sorry," I whisper, keeping my gaze on the metal circle. "I haven't exactly been a best friend lately, or a friend at all. I've just been a bitch."

"No, you don't need to apologize," Penelope insists, scooting closer to me. "This is a really hard time for you. It's understandable. I don't expect you to want to be listening to my guy problems or wanting to drink wine. I mean, I don't even want to be doing either of those things. It seems too...cheerful for right now."

My lips quiver and I try to hold back my tears, but no matter how hard I squeeze the medallion, my tears won’t retreat and my pain doesn’t disappear. "I just really miss him, and I'm really worried about him."

"We all are," Penelope sighs, patting my leg. "But we're working as hard as we can to get him out."

"I know you are," I flip the medallion over and stare down at the compass. "I just hope he comes home soon because I don't know how much longer I'll last without him."

///

The snapping of my pencil against paper shakes me back to reality, and my head pops up. I find that I've been jamming my pencil into my sketchbook, creating a hole in the paper that has effectively ruined my drawing and maybe even ruined my entire sketchbook.

A groan leaves my lips and I drop my sketchbook to the floor, my pencil following. I shouldn't be upset. Whatever it was I was drawing was horrible anyway. I haven't drawn anything good since Spencer got arrested. My art revolves around joy and happiness and the good things in my life and if I don't have any of that, how am I expected to make art?

"Hey," Jenna comes and sits beside me, placing a cup of tea on the coffee table. I don't touch it. She never makes it as good as Spencer. She picks up the sketchbook and lets out a sigh. "It's a shame there's a hole in it now. I liked what you were drawing."

"It was bad," I respond, letting my head fall onto her shoulder. "Nothing in there was any good."

"I disagree," Jenna drops the book and slings her arm around my shoulder, drawing me into her embrace. She’s not nearly as warm as Spencer. "Sometimes, our best work comes from dark places. You know, like comedians. A lot of comedians have depression and--"

"Jen, I appreciate it but I'm not in the mood for this," I murmur, eyelids feeling heavy. I rest my head on her lap and stare up at her, resisting the urge to purr as she starts to brush her fingers through my hair, but it's nothing like the way Spencer does it. Spencer, somehow, doesn't let his fingers get caught in my curls and he doesn't tug on knots. His hands are big and veiny and strong and not dainty and tiny like Jenna's.

"I'm sorry," Jenna apologizes with a heavy sigh.

"No, I'm sorry," I catch her hand in mine and intertwine our fingers, squeezing tightly. "I've been horrible lately. I've just-- what I'm going through with Spencer is no reason to be acting like a bad friend to you. You've been so generous and so helpful and so--"

"Hey, listen," Jenna cuts me off with her sweet smile, "when everything with Spencer is resolved and he's settled at home with his mom and with you, then you can take me out and throw me a Jenna appreciation party. But for right now, don't worry about me. Just worry about you and staying healthy and trying to stay happy, and focus your energy on your happy memories with Spencer."

"You're the best, have I ever told you that?"

"Hey!" Jenna exclaims. "Save it for the appreciation party."

I smile back up at my best friend, nodding slowly. "Okay, yeah, I can do that. Once I get my shit together, I'll throw you an amazing party."

"And I look forward to it," Jenna quips, and then looks at the time. "Okay, I've gotta get to a meeting but you're welcome to stay here if you want. My apartment is all yours."

"No, I think I'm gonna go home for a bit. Probably shower and then get to the BAU with fresh clothes. I feel all," I sit up, brushing my fingers over my cheeks and grimacing, "greasy and oily."

Jenna returns my ruined sketchbook and ushers me out the door, watching me get into my car to make sure I get there safely. I wave goodbye to her before driving off, not even bothering to turn on the radio. I never do anymore.

Trudging up to my door, I unlock it and toss my keys aside, throwing my bag down on the floor and kneeling down to take off my shoes. I pull out my hair tie and drop it to the floor, then leave a trail of clothes to the kitchen. First my denim jacket, then my socks, then my crop top. I'm left in my bra and sweatpants in the middle of the kitchen, reaching into the fridge for something to eat. It’s nearly empty. Of course it is. I haven’t had the energy to go shopping lately.

I reach my hand out but I pause and scrunch up my nose at a strong scent. Why does it smell like bubblegum in here? Again. I don’t even like the scent or taste of bubblegum, and I obviously didn’t buy any gum recently. I roll my eyes, wandering over to the window to open it further and let out the smell. I breathe in a bit of the fresh air and sigh, stepping away and going back to my original plan of getting something to eat. Maybe the older woman next door has a bubblegum candle that she likes to light whenever I’m home.

But the smell is persistent and it's filling my lungs and my brain and my tongue. I start to walk towards the window again but my feet don't let me. It's like there's someone telling me not to go and breath in the fresh air outside, and so, I don't. I stand in the middle of my kitchen like a floundering fish, gripping the island with white knuckles. My head feels fuzzy. My eyes feel like they should be rolling into my skull. It’s that familiar feeling of not having control over myself. That sickly familiar feeling of someone standing right behind me, whispering in my ear and telling me what to do.

But then I feel the urge to shut the window completely, so I do. I rush over and slam it closed with so much force that I think I might break the glass. But I'm confused. I'm so confused. The bubblegum smell is nauseating so why am I closing the window? What is telling me to close the window? Who is telling me to close the window?

I feel my feet walking over to the couch and I lay down. My eyelids feel heavy and I don't stop myself when I feel an intense need to lay down and close my eyes, to rest. I curl up and drift off comfortably, into the best sleep I've gotten since I had the privilege of sleeping in a bed with Spencer.

When I finally wake again, my head is pounding. I whine out loud, curling my knees into my chest and tossing my arm over my eyes, trying to block out the lights above me. But nothing works so I roll off the couch, falling onto my knees in a pathetic heap. I lift my head, finding an empty bottle of white wine on the coffee table. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. I didn’t drink wine today. The bottle is empty but I didn’t drink. I mean, I feel hungover but I know I didn’t drink. The smell of bubblegum is gone.

I reach around for my phone, but after groping the couch and the coffee table, I come up empty. I conclude that I've left it in my backpack which I dropped beside the door. I grind my teeth as my muscles pop when I stand and walk over to the foyer, rubbing my eyes and letting out a dramatically loud yawn. When I get to the foyer, I find that my backpack is nowhere in sight. That's odd. I could have sworn that I left it here when I got home from Jenna's apartment, but I guess in my blackout, I moved it.

I turn on my heel to head back to the kitchen, and the first thing I notice is that it's not morning anymore. It's dark out. My head whips towards the clock and I find that it's almost midnight. I must have gotten drunk. I must have finished that whole bottle myself and the alcohol made me forget. I drank the entire day away, somehow. That's not like me. That's never happened before. I drink wine all the time, I know I can hold my wine. How did one single bottle of wine do this to me?

Shaking my head at myself and pushing away my pathetic tears, I move on to my kitchen. Surely enough, the contents of my backpack are strewn across the island and my phone is right there. What I need it for? I'm not sure. But despite the fact that I've just woken up, I'm exhausted. So with my phone in my hand, half dressed, belly button ring falling out, hair tangled, head pounding, and my brain swirling, I drag myself up the stairs and collapse into bed.

The sheets smell like him. They always do. They always will. The pillow he claimed as his own will always be stained with the scent of his cologne, and no matter the amount of times I wash it, it was always smell like him. I roll over and hug his pillow to my chest, and this time, I don't stop the dam from breaking. I let the tears flow down my cheeks relentlessly and I let the sobs rack my body and I let myself succumb to the depression I've barely been fighting off.

But I don't let my mind succumb too much, not to the bad thoughts that are hounding me. I stumble off the bed and into my bedside table, pulling out my journal and holding it in my lap. My pen moves faster than my mind does and before I know it, I'm signing my name at the end. I don't even proofread it. I don't check for spelling or grammar errors or try to dry the tear stains or fix any pen smudges. I just rip out the pages, fold them up, put on some clothes, and jump in my car.

The doors the the sixth floor open as I fiddle with my visitors pass on my hip. I see Stephen first and he smiles at me, stepping out of the way and gesturing me for me to go past. I thank him softly and go tiptoeing by, pulling open the bullpen door and stepping in. JJ and Tara are talking with Anderson and Kevin by the coffee machine and I send them a wave, but I don't go over to talk. I haven't been in the mood for small talk lately. And besides, it’s midnight. Everyone is here incredibly late to work and small talk would distract them from their obvious mountain of work. They don’t need the extra worry of me showing up hungover and confused. I keep my head down to avoid everyone.

I pass Emily and get to Dave's door, knocking much softer than I have in the past. He calls for me to enter, and when I do, I give him one of the fake smiles I've become so accustomed to lately. "Hi," I state gently.

"Hi," he gestures for me to sit, and when I do, he closes to door. "Are you okay?"

"I am," I nod quickly, probably way too quickly, and bring my backpack into my lap, digging through the contents. "I saw that--"

"Are you drunk?" He interrupts me, narrowing his eyes at me as he takes a seat again.

I fiend surprise, shaking my head. "No! Of course not! Why would you--"

"Your eyes are bloodshot and you're not speaking properly, you're slurring your words," Dave points out bluntly.

I don't move my gaze from his as my hands finally land on what I was searching for, and I pull it out, holding it to him. "I saw on Garcia's board that you're the next to visit Spencer. Could you bring that to him? It's just a letter."

Dave takes the envelope from my hand and admires the calligraphy on the front, the same I always use to label Spencer's sketchbooks. He nods and tucks it into his jacket pocket. "I'll bring it. The prison checks everything and--"

"If they confiscate it, I don't wanna know," I tell him, standing and putting my backpack on again, heading towards his office door. "Just-- everything I have to say is in that letter. I've gotten it out and even if he doesn't get to read it," I shrug my shoulders up to my ears and laugh pitifully, "whatever. I just hope he's safe now."

I go home. I leave with my head down and tears in my eyes. Dave is going to think I’m a crazy drunk who can’t control herself. The reality is, I don’t even know what happened today. I’m just confused and sad. I’m missing Spencer, I hate the smell of bubblegum, and I can’t do my job anymore. Everything is fucking horrible. Everything has gone to shit.

Like clockwork, I bring myself to the BAU the next morning. Freshly showered and in presentable clothes, looking better than I have in months. An obvious overcompensation for what Dave said to me yesterday. I need to show him somehow that I’m okay. Well, I’m not okay but I don’t need anyone worrying about me. I should have practiced my fake smile in the elevator.

"Hey, you," Penelope smiles softly as I walk into her lair, dropping my backpack on the empty desk. "Feeling okay?"

"Meh," I shrug, sitting down in a free chair and drawing my knees to my chest. "I'm trying to keep my spirits up. It's hard, you know? It keeps getting longer and longer since I've seen him and the longer it gets, the harder it gets. I’m trying to keep it together. It’s hard, P."

"I think I may be able to help with that," Dave's voice at the door makes the both of us jump. Neither of us had even realized he had come in right behind me. But I jump to my feet and smooth down my skirt, adjusting my nose ring so it’s perfect and brushing my straightened hair behind my ears.

"Help with that?" Penelope repeats, glancing between us. "Help with that how?"

Dave reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the envelope for the letter I'd written for Spencer, and my heart drops to my feet. Why was I thinking? What made me think he would be able to bring my letter in? He's in a maximum-security prison. Spencer can barely take a shower without prison guard eyes on him. He's not going to be able to get a letter from a visitor without it being checked and rejected first.

"I told you I didn't wanna know if he could see it," I whisper, looking down at my lap and hating the way my eyes instantly burn with tears. I’ve cried too much lately. "You should've just thrown it out. I don't want it back, just--"

He drops the envelope onto my lap to shut me up, but now, it's unfolded and there's writing on the inside. My body jerks ungracefully when I recognize Spencer's handwriting and I snatch it up to read what he's written for me.

To my pretty girl,

The Good Doctor sounds like a great show, and even though you've basically spoiled the whole show for me, I'd love to rewatch it with you. Medical dramas tend to be incorrect with their facts so I'd like to see how much of the show is accurate. And no, I will not watch Lucifer with you. But I will absolutely watch Star Trek and Doctor Who with you. It would be my pleasure to explain them to you.

I think of you every single day. You are the reason I'm pushing through and you are the reason I'm still alive. You are the reason I get out of bed and you are the reason I'm sane at all. You're still my north. Don't forget that. I’m going to come home to you.

Like you said, words cannot describe how intensely and how badly I miss you. Things are hard right now but I promise that I'll see you soon and I promise that everything will be okay.

Listen to some Brahms or Mozart for me. I love you so much.

With all the love I have left to give,

Your Dove

ps. There are no razors here and I haven't shaved in months. Enjoy.

pps. Thank you for distracting me. It worked wonders. You're truly amazing.

I read his letter over and over and over. I examine every single word on the page and I barely even notice when my tears start to fall on the paper. His writing is messy, it always has been, but it's so beautiful. Maybe I think it's so extraordinarily beautiful because I know he touched this piece of paper and now I'm touching it. It's from his heart. It's from him. It's from my Spencer.

"Penny," I whimper out, and she is at my side in a second, placing her hand on my shoulder. "He—” I sniffle and hiccup, “he promised."

"He promised?" She echoes, her voice sounding hopeful but like she's talking to a child. "What did he promise?"

"He promised that everything is gonna be okay," I clutch the paper in my hand, admiring its beauty and counting the strokes that Spencer made with the pen. "And he told me again that I'm his north and-- that's good, right? He's still there, you know, mentally."

Penelope nods at me, reaching down to wipe my tears. "Yeah, Amelia, that's really good that he said those things."

I drop the letter to the floor and throw my arms around Dave, crying into his shoulder. "Thank you so much. Thank you for doing this for me."

He hugs me back tightly. "Anything to see you and the kid happy. Anything for you two."

TAGLIST

@babybloodstonebones @bxnnywriting @blameitonthenight21 @feralreid @anepiphany @reidscardigan @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @stxrrywildflower @penemily @whollytaciturn @thegingerfairchild @yasminwashere @shrimpyblog @anamelessfacelessnerd @wonderlandhatter @whxt-to-write @inkandexchange @just-call-me-non

#nikos north fic #spencer reid #dr reid #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #matthew gubler #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction

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austarus · 4 years

Text

Harrison Wells (Eobard Thawne) x Reader - Integrated Revelations (2/3)

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me.

*Tbh, I was attempting something and I don’t I feel like I’m getting really bad at writing Eobard.. I’m trying ;-; bear with me things will deviate from the plot. Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

Part 1 Part 3

Word Count: 4687

You shut your eyes, upon reopening them you soundlessly shifted over to your boyfriends’ side as he spoke with a raspy, chilling voice. Like a Queen should to a King. “I mean, who are you really?” Eobard questioned skillfully; one leg crossed over the other. You glanced between both men before your blank gaze settled upon Barry.

“Dr. Wells, what are you doing?”

Eobard’s demeanor did not falter at Barry’s question. The villainous speedster dropped his leg from where it was and sat forward. He hunched himself, elbows pressed onto the edges of the armrests. “None of it adds up. The interference with the comms, the speed equation, the Time Wraith.” You pressed your lips into a thin line as Eobard shook his head while continuing. Barry eyed the dark-haired scientist closely. “That's what we call them. Time Wraiths. Scary, aren't they?” Eobard chuckled darkly to himself. “I thought, ‘Oh, no, a Time Wraith has found me.’ But then I thought, ‘No, no, no.’ You know what you're doing.” He snapped for emphasis. You dropped your gaze, running your fingers over the back of his chair before deciding to take a step back and lean against the pebbled wall. No matter how many times you were in the Time Vault, it always unsettled you the amount of power and knowledge and secrets Eobard can keep within it “Now, the Time Wraith is after someone who's travelled through time...” Eobard tilted his head at Barry, “and doesn't know what they're doing.” A smirk remained plastered on the Wells imposter while Barry’s eyes flickered up at you momentarily. His apprehensive green hues met Eobard’s icy gaze.

Your speedster boyfriend’s words clicked. This version of Barry doesn’t have the faintest idea of how to manipulate time travel like Eobard. He can easily get caught by those monsters. You crossed your arms as you observed the two speedsters. One in control- potent, as always, and the other rendered helpless in those meta-dampening cuffs. Unlike the other version we met. The one who knows about my powers, who denied me an answer.

Barry looked incredulously at Eobard. Choking out a nonchalant laugh, Barry glanced away while feigning his innocence, but the two of you knew this was not your Barry Allen. “Dr. Wells come on. It's me. It's... it's Barry. I don't...” Barry reached out to touch the cool metal of the cuffs. You wanted to step forward to help him out, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to trust this version of Barry either. At least this one’s not giving me headaches.

“Really? You are good.” Eobard puffs out a curt laugh, shaking his head one more and clapping mockingly. “You are good, and I would believe you, except that…” The scientist sped off from his chair, icy blue eyes with a piercing gaze as he towered over Barry. You took a step forward at Eobard’s sudden display with a frown grazing your features and eyes widening a fraction. Intimidation exuded from the older speedster. But your eyes quickly flickered to see Barry’s response. Nothing. “Nothing? I move like this, you barely flinch.” Barry glared up at Eobard with such abhorring emotions in his eyes. “You know who I am. Don't you?” You watched Eobard taunt Barry as he stepped back beside you, leaning back as well. Tension hung thickly in the air. Barry crinkled his nose at you and Eobard then attempted to phase his hand out of the cuffs but to no avail. He should have known better than to try that with those cuffs on. You cleared your throat as Eobard snickered at the younger speedster. “Oh! And you're from the future. Do you know how I know that? Because I haven't taught my Barry Allen how to phase through objects... yet.”

Barry laughed mirthlessly dismissing your existence, but the speedster knew he was defeated. He wasn’t as skilled in the art of deception as you and Eobard were. “Let me out of here, Thawne.”

You heard Eobard sigh at the utterance of his name. Rolling your eyes at his dramatics, you eyed the speedster while he pushed off the wall. “I know. You're upset.” Eobard dragged his white chair to take a seat once more. The genius deceiver coyly grinned at the scarlet speedster, bound to the wheelchair. “But it does me good to hear that name again. Now, onto the bigger question.” He fumbled with his fingers, anticipation- ideas- possible reasons on exactly why The Flash had decided to take another detour to the past whirled inside his mind.

“Why are you here?” You piped up unfurling your arms, instead tucking your hands into the back of your pants pockets. “You’re from a different time obviously, couldn’t you figure out your own problems from there? Why bother looking for solutions in a past you clearly despise?” Barry refused to answer you. “Or do you always need to run to Dr. Wells whenever little Barry Allen gets stuck?” Eobard glanced back at the venom dripping from your words. The hard look on your face, the sheer coldness settling within your eyes at his archnemesis. It made his heart swoon yet… Eobard felt worried at just how frigid you can be. How easy it was for you to turn off those positive emotions that you carry on inside. Would you do the same to him?

“Because I want to go faster,” Barry’s sneered, an abrupt response after your malicious tone caused Eobard’s head to snap back at towards him. “And he’s the only one who can teach me.” The forensics scientist forced out the statement, a steely expression on his face. Barry narrowed his eyes from you down to Eobard, a hint of curiosity in those hazel-greens. “You're the only one who's figured out the equation. The Speed Force. You've manipulated it. How did you do that?”

Before you could say anything, Eobard stood up with crossed arms, whispering to himself. “No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. No.” The older speedster locked his gaze at the wall, running the tips of his fingers over the pebbled half-spheres. Curiously, you quirked an eyebrow before your eyes met with Barry’s, who only slightly shrugged at you. Eobard circled Barry, like a predator circling its next kill. Instead… you sensed something was off by the way his shoulders tensed. “You'd only come here if something went wrong.”

You uttered; a wave of uneasiness flooded over you, “What-but-”

“-If you're still alive, then that means...” Eobard turned to Barry with a grimace. He was one the other side of the room now. You were between the two men, a good distance between each. Your fingers fidgeted as they now remain beside you, heart clenching that all of this wouldn’t work. Dread began stirring inside you, fueling the headache you head earlier, and a sense of insecurity snatched your heart. So, the other Barry was onto to something, he just didn’t want to tell me… I don’t-We don’t get our happy ending. “I haven't beaten you. If you're still alive... that means my plan fails.” Eobard swallows thickly as the words escaped him, avoiding your gaze as a pained expression crossed his face. I don’t go home. I don’t end up taking her with me, making her my bride like I promised all those nights ago. Living far away together from The Flash robbing me from anything else that brings me joy. He blinked a few times, his moment of realization that he would fail turned to pure ballistic intentions in milliseconds. “And if my plan fails,” you shuddered at Eobard’s frustration flourishing as he kicked the chair over. You felt stunned in your place. You felt small. You hated whenever he was in these rage fits, especially when they were about Barry. “I don't get to go home, and if that's the case, well, then-” Eobard had aggressively rounded in quick strides to the restrained speedster, a phasing hand slicing through the air to strike Barry.

“No, no, no! Hey, hey, hey! It's the opposite! It's the opposite!” Barry shouted rapidly to stop the futuristic speedster, holding a hand out to protect himself from Eobard’s phasing hand. His other arm reflexively pulled at his restraint, wishing he could phase out of the cuffs and manifest his speed again. “It... you trick me. You harnessed my speed. We turn on the accelerator to create a path for you to go home. I go back in time. You go back to yours.” The scarlet speedster nodded his head in your direction as he spoke up again before letting his eyes meet Eobard’s heated gaze. You dare say that you saw a hint of sadness in the young speedster’s eyes when he looked at you. “She goes with you. You won. Yeah.” Barry took a breath in, muscles taut at the prospect of his enemy killing him before he got the chance to stop Zoom and his reign of terror.

“Eobard, stop.” You didn’t know when during the exchange you had found yourself right by his side, maneuvering yourself to stand in front of him, promptly blocking his view of Barry. “Eo, look at me.” He did. The dark-haired man gave you a dangerous look, jaw clenched while you reached out to hold onto his raised arm. Your fingers touched his wrist gently. “Breathe,” you spoke intently, searching his eyes for any sign of reason that he normally held. “Anger blinds even the strongest of people- the smartest of people, including speedsters.” You told us that. The phasing hand subsided as you lowered it with ease. Eobard shut his eyes, his hand slipping into yours as he reopened them. The speedster knew what you were saying, knew that he needed to rationalize before acting- before he executed this version of The Flash.

A disposable version, if it means anything to you.

Barry ran a hand over his opposite shoulder, his arm was beginning to numb in place, but his eyes never left the two of you. He clenched and unclenched his hand to circulate the blood. As volatile as Harry is back in his time, Eobard was on equal par. The only difference being that you never knew exactly when the Reverse Flash would bite back, or to what degree. Barry made no comment when you linked hands, but the brown-haired CSI caught the flicker of change in Eobard’s eyes. The yellow speedster’s anger dissipated behind those baby blue hues as his gaze softened for you. Barry observed how you and Eobard deeply cared for each other. All over again. He almost felt bad for the events that would surely lead to Eobard’s removal from existence and your forever broken heart. How the two of you would be forever separated. Almost.

You were conflicted. Hurt. Frustrated. You dad no clue what to think. Barry’s your best friend. He wouldn’t… intentionally hurt you, would he? But then a way future version of Barry seemingly dismissed your existence and your concerns over Eobard. Now this version treated you with the same dismissal, if not with even more loathing. Both versions clearly knew you were with the man in the yellow suit, but… Your heart is a kind one, no matter how damaged or twisted it could get. Deep down, you knew that whatever version of Barry you meet along the way, he’d always be your best friend. Even if Eobard did despise the young speedster and his existence.

“Then why are you here? Why are you here now?” The yellow speedster reverted to a more defensive stance; eyes now locked with Barry’s. You turned to look at this version of your best friend.

“Because when I got back, a singularity had formed. And now the only way for me to learn how to get faster and stop the singularity from happening was to come here. Now.”

“Well, that's good to know.” Eobard sighed to himself, icy hues glancing to yours as a twisted smile greeted his features. Barry looked up at you for any indication that you would help get him out. You pursed your lips regretfully with hesitation. Eobard walked over to his chair, setting it back before pacing once more in the Time Vault. The heroic speedster was increasingly growing uncomfortable on the cold ground. “There's just... Just one thing that occurs to me. I don't need you. Do I?” You watched him turn to Barry, dismissing the look you shot him. “Not this you certainly. Oops. You probably should've thought of that before you came back here. Shame...” A malicious laugh left Eobard as he slowly approached Barry’s helpless form, his fingers twitching to use the powers of the negative speed-force to end Barry Allen. “You ran all the way back here just to die.”

“You can’t be serious,” you hissed at the man you love, side-stepping in front of Eobard. The corner of his lips twitched in an unsettling manner; amusement slightly present in his eyes. “You promised me you wouldn’t hurt him!” A quiet air of relief left Barry. He didn’t… He never knew of the promise you had made with Eobard. That his life wouldn’t be in the hands of death in any way. But he could use this.

“This isn’t your Barry,” Eobard protested in a low voice.

“This is a future version of my best friend, whom you promised me you wouldn’t hurt, maim, and/or kill! Our promise includes any version of Barry Allen.” Eobard chewed on the inside of his cheeks at your words, a sour planted itself on his face when he glanced once more at Barry. The man in the yellow suit knew he would honor his promise to you in the end. He keeps his word, after all.

“You heard her, I’m untouchable.” A cocky smile crossed Barry’s face, shooting it right at Barry. You threw a glare at him, shut the fuck up Barry. I’m the only one holding him back from phasing a hand right through your heart. Any version of you. For once, think before you do something like speaking, especially when you aren’t in a state to be taunting an evil speedster that has you bound. “But by all means, you kill me... Barry... this Barry, your Barry, he learns it all.” He gestured to you and Eobard. Dread filled Eobard as Barry continued to tout out words confidently. The speedster had carefully planned this out, just in case he was to get caught by Thawne. “There's a hidden letter telling him how it ends, how to beat you, everything. Anything happens to me; you never make it back home.” Barry turned to you with stoically cold eyes. “She never sees you again.” Take those words as you will, Thawne. Your hands fell limply beside you as you Eobard clenched his hands into tight fists. You heard your heart drum loudly in your ears at the prospect of this Barry’s threat. With heavy feet, you padded away from Barry before turning to eye him with cautious eyes. Eobard’s face was devoid of any emotion as he took a seat while you settled beside him. “Go on. Kill me, Thawne. See how this all ends.” Eobard held his breath, weighing his options. Pros and cons. Gains and losses. “Now, you're gonna help me get faster.” Resting a hand on Eobard’s shoulder you squeezed it, trying to use your touch to convey ease into him while Barry smirked triumphantly at the two of you. Eobard’s face twitched in silent fuming.

“Dr. Wells, Ms. (L/N),” Gideon’s voice cut through the deadly second of silence, “the time wraith has appeared.” The AI broadcasted a screen of Cisco and Caitlin running to the Pipeline, entering the cell that Hartley resides in and sealing it. Its grotesque body swayed in the air. Half-formed limbs scratching the glass as your friends screamed for any indication that this thing can be yoinked away and out of existence.

“Barry! (Y/N)! Dr. Wells!” Caitlin shrieked as the Time Wraith pounded on the glass, shattering a segment, but not piercing through into the cell. Ghostly fumes emitted from the hauntingly decaying figure. Cisco and Hartley were fumbling with the gauntlets while another piercing scream echoed throughout that sector of the labs.

“Oh my god, we have to do something! It’s going to kill them!” You whipped your head to the two of them. They’re the ones with speed.

“You let it track you here,” Eobard turned with a pointed look at Barry.

Barry shook his restraints, with an anxious look, “Get me out of here! Come on!”

Eobard sneered in a gruff tone, “If that thing comes after me and messes with my plans, you're all dead.”

“Now’s not the time to be making death threats, especially when he’s the one with max speed-force in his veins!” You reprimanded Eobard, who threw you a look while rolling his eyes at you before setting Barry free. Standing up, Barry felt his speed return to him as he shook his numbed limb. The two men nodded at each other, yellow and red electricity crackling in the air. Eobard wrapped a lithe limb around your waist, his other hand firmly grasping the back of his wheelchair. Both speedsters sped out of the Time Vault in a torrent of lightning.

***

“I'm sorry that we didn't come sooner,” Barry apologized, for the 2nd time as he stepped quickly into the Cortex with you trailing behind him and Eobard. His heart was heavy at the prospect of his presence here was causing his friends more trouble than he intended. Caitlin and Cisco took their respective seats at the main Cortex monitors while you and Dr. Wells lingered a bit behind.

“It's all right, Inky's gone. I don't see anything,” Cisco breathed out, eyes focused on the computer screen. He flipped through all the camera footage before turning his head to Dr. Wells. “You know, we'd be toast if wasn't for Hartley and those gauntlets.”

“Well, self-preservation is a very strong motivator, but he stays in the cell until I say otherwise,” Eobard starkly dictated, subtly out of breath from the little run around the labs to the Pipeline. Your eyes raked over him worriedly. He didn’t have all his speed, especially since he used up a good amount on Christmas. Eobard’s body’s still feeling the side effects of his speed-force in a state of flux.

Cisco turned back to the monitors, “Okay, I'm just saying.”

“So, the two places this thing has attacked are here and CCPD.” You took your tablet and ran scans over the Labs then the city for an abnormal particle signature. You also had Gideon secretly run a scan over Barry’s lab, just in case it decided to make a reappearance there. Particularly ones of tachyons or from the speed-force.

“The common denominator being...” Caitlin trailed off, swiveling her chair towards Barry.

“Me. Yeah, I know. I just... I don't know why.” Barry let out an exasperated sigh.

“Well, you must have done something to piss him off.” Cisco added in; his computer pinged negatively after a couple of scans. “Satellite hasn't found anything.”

Eobard nervously wrung his hands, eyes meeting yours for a moment. “We need to find a more permanent solution to this problem.” He gestured when he continued to Caitlin and Cisco. “Start by repairing Hartley's gauntlets. That's about as good a first step as any.”

“I got some parts for it.” Cisco nodded at Dr. Wells, glancing at you. You already knew what he was about to ask.

“I’ve got any vitals and scans for the city until you two come back.” You held up your tablet with a little smile on your face. “Don’t worry, I’ve go your back.”

“Let's go for it,” Caitlin grinned, turning to Cisco. The two of them took their leave. Once they were out of earshot and out of sight you whipped around with an incredulous look on your face.

“You don't know how to stop a Time Wraith?” You and Barry both quired, which irritated Eobard at the sync.

“None of us do.” The speedster responded roughly. You felt bad for Eobard, his entire plan to get home is in jeopardy because of a future version of Barry. “That's why we always try and avoid them in our travels.”

“‘We’?” You and Barry just gave each other looks, simultaneously responding together once more. The scarlet speedster sneered at you, that was enough to shut you up and take a seat back at the monitors.

“‘Speedsters’... we're not the only two out there, you know?”

“This isn't the first time I've time traveled. How come I've never seen one of these until now?”

Eobard stood up, his demeanor clearly showed he was pissed and exasperated, but he kept his emotions in check. Especially with the Time Wraith looming around somewhere. He stepped closer towards Barry. “Because you ran out of luck.” You watched Barry lean against the railing, shaking his head when Eobard continued before grudgingly meeting your eyes. You offered him a sympathetic smile, he reluctantly returned it. “And Time Wraiths hate it when speedsters manipulate the timeline, and now that thing's gonna do everything it can to end you.” You wanted to say something but decided against it. Barry scoffed at Eobard, rolling his eyes when the man turned away from him. “Here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna go to CCPD. You're gonna see what you can find to help us stop this thing-” Eobard nodded at you. You collected your things and got up, ready to work. “-We'll do the same here.”

“Well, what am I supposed to be looking for?

You started, “Barr, You're in forensics-“

“-Figure something out.” The man in the yellow suit only sent a warning glare to Barry, pulling his damned wheelchair along with him.

“Hey, what about the equation? Me getting faster?” Barry’s nostrils flared, stepping forward and gesturing to the clear board that held the speed equation.

“If we don't stop this thing, there's gonna be no point in me teaching you anything.” With that the two parted, Eobard sat back in his chair and he wheeled to his side lab whereas Barry let out an exhausted sigh. He rubbed his face, eyes meeting yours once more. Grabbing his coat, the young speedster pushed past you, his shoulders bumping yours. The action didn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who narrowed his eyes from afar then turned back to his work. Your eyes lingered for a moment before an idea popped into your head.

“I think I should go with him,” you turned towards Eobard, running a hand over your hair and loosening your hair out of the hair tie. Maybe that’ll help with the headaches.

“What?”

“With Barry”

“No, absolutely not!”

“Why not?” You pouted, taking a seat beside him. You subtly wanted to see how many buttons you can push while this version of Barry was here.

“Over my. Rotting. Corpse.”

You froze at his comment, his body was already turned away from you. A mental image of Eobard’s corpse vividly plagued you. Blinking a few times, that phrase echoed in your head. It’s like I’ve heard that before… but where? You needed to shake the feeling off. “Don’t say things like that! If anything happens, I’ll let you know what’s going on.” You lightly slap his arm. The corner of Eobard’s lips turned up slightly then he leaned over for a kiss. You gave him a chaste one to finish your defense on the situation. “Plus, you and I both know you can handle things here at the lab. You don’t need me around.”

“I will always want you to be around me, even if I’m working. Besides the point- stay away from Barry.” He emphasized. “The Time Wraith is here for him; it hasn’t detected me. I don’t…” Eobard sighed through his nose, his gaze locked onto yours and you felt your breath hitch. “I can’t lose you to that monster.”

“…”

“Please, kitten.” He looked at you desperately.

“Only because you said ‘please’,” you kissed his cheek fondly, giving in to him. You didn’t miss the way his voice strained at the thought of losing you or the fact that he asked. Eobard generally never asks, not until he met you. The speedster glanced at you when you were recalibrating the satellites, he noticed the fake grin that you plastered on your face at his corpse comment. He made a mental note to ask you what’s wrong later. It hurt his heart to see you put up a wall right now, but it was understandable, to say the least. “You know, I always like watching you work.”

“Why is that?”

“Dunno, maybe I just like watching you work your magic with those capable hands of yours.”

“I can show you just how capable these hands are tonight.” Your speedster wiggled his eyebrows at you, eliciting a deep blush and giggle. His hand left the device on the table, resting on your thigh. You felt your body temperature spike up even more at his touch.

“Eobard, you can’t say things like that at work!”

“Why not? I’m the boss.” The speedster whispered to you, his blue eyes hypnotizing you. Eobard leaned close, slotting himself to kiss your neck a few times.

A sweet sigh left your lips. “What if the others walk in on us?” You pressed a hand against his sturdy chest. Eobard pressed a kiss below your ear before a chuckle left his lips.

“I’m sure they’ll allow me a free pass, just this once.”

***

After a few hours or so, Cisco and Caitlin came back with the gauntlets. The two explained how the managed to save every piece and analyze their potential. Cisco and Dr. Wells remained in a heavily – mechanical engineer type of conversation that you and Caitlin stayed silent for.

“So, can these gauntlets be salvaged?” Dr. Wells questioned, wheeling closer to the displayed Hartley’s sonic gauntlets.

“Their electron guns are fried,” Cisco shook his head.

“So, it shorted the wave tubes-“

“-And destroyed the amplifiers.” They both finished the thought.

“Yeah, but to be honest with you, I don't know how to manipulate the frequency variance.” Cisco spoke, glancing at the three of you.

“Hartley would know.” Caitlin added in, hands on her sides, “He's the one who did it.”

“As much as a dick that he was, he seems to be an expert with sound waves and frequency variance of such caliber,” you mused, nodding with Caitlin.

“See if he can help, but he stays in the cell,” the genius scientist instructed,

“But then what? That thing's gonna come back.” Cisco retaliated

“I don't know,” Dr. Wells stated exasperatedly. He didn’t know what to do, Hartley’s guns were the only thing he’s known to deter the Time Wraiths. If only the electron guns weren’t fired then he would have been able to dissect and adjust the gauntlets.

“Hey, its going to be ok,” you tried reassuring everyone, mainly Eobard. “We always end up crossing over these kinds of bridges. We’ve got the smartest minds and the most skilled scientists here.” Cisco and Caitlin smiled a bit at you. But you saw the calculating look on Eobard’s eyes. The futuristic villain was taking this harder than Barry himself, walking on eggshells particularly with concealing his speed. Taking any precaution to ensure his safety as well as yours. Your boyfriend explained that if you had gotten closer to the Time Wraith it would sense you. You blushed slightly at the next thought Theoretically, he said his speed-force signature particles had rubbed off on me… Probably from one too many nights of-

“Where is he? Where's the other Flash?” A different Barry demanded. Your version of Barry demanded, out of breath and pissed as hell. Your eyes widened at the sudden appearance of this time’s Flash, mouth open for a bit before closing it. Eobard just covered his face, silently counting to 10 before he choked a bitch.

Well shit, I totally forgot about our Barry.

“Right here.”

Well fuck

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maisondenachtai · 4 years

Text

Hell Hath No Fury (Two-Shot)

Pairing: Frat!Chris Evans x Soro!Jealous!Black!Reader Warnings: no real warnings for this one, next one be on the look out. mentions of roughness...maybe considered dark! Summary: Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. (Author’s Note: This was written for @jtargaryen18’s 30 Days of Chris! This was pretty much an idea that I blurted onto the paper so it’s not the best and I didn’t proofread it. lol....enjoy! Join the taglist gang!)

It was frat night at Jimmy’s. You knew that. Your girls knew that. Everyone within a 20-mile radius of the university knew that. Crowds over 30 avoided this night, for girls not quite of age it was the most important night to have a fake ID and the worst night to get turned away. For your girls it was a time to get plastered and mix with the frat boys. For you…well…you were there for other reasons.

Walking into a bar always gave you a rush, especially a bar like Jimmy’s. As you pushed the door opened, two bells rung like signals making everyone turn to look at you and your friends. You smiled quickly scanning the crowd and found that your reason for coming to the bar was leaning against the bar, beer tilted to his lips, girl on the side of him, friends around him. You made sure to catch the eye of his friend, Sean, smiling as his eyes drifted down your body and then his hand went through his hair in an expression of exasperation. And when he nudged Gregory, pointing his beer in your direction, you moved from their eyeline before your reason could get a complete eyeful.

You smirked as you made your way through the crowd, making sure to take the most indirect route to your destination, making sure that you were always at least half-way blocked by someone taller than you. Your smirk grew when you heard the tell-tale noises of Kappa Tau, the sound of yelling and glasses hitting the table louder than other noises in the bar letting you know that you were heading in the right direction. When you finally made it, you grinned as the men took you and your friends in and you sat on top of the table taking the nearest pint and drinking quite a bit of it.

“Hey.” Brody said, smirk on his face as you pulled the cup away from your mouth, wiping the remnants of the beer off of your mouth. “That was mine.”

“It’s mine now.” You grinned knowing that your smile could get you into and out of a lot of trouble. Brody rolled his eyes, smirk deepening showing the dimples in his tan cheeks. “What? Slumming it with us now? I thought you Zeta rolled with the Gammas, or…them.”

Zaria sat down making the boys around the bar make more room for her, “Well Chad said he wasn’t making an appearance tonight, and if Chad doesn’t come then Michael ain’t coming either. So it was either you doofuses or them.”

You smirked, running a finger down the side of Brody’s face. “And we much rather hang with you guys.”

“Oh really?” Brody sat back, looking up at you. “This have anything to do with why your boy is staring daggers at me right now?”

“I have no boy.” You shrugged, feigning ignorance even though you could feel the heat on the side of your body.

“Right.” Brody sat up again, leaning forward and tilting his head up so that your lips were nearly meeting. “Hey, I’m willing to play a part in whatever you’re trying to do-“ He said low enough for only you two to hear. “But you need to let me know.”

“He looking right now?” You asked him.

“Oh yeah.”

“Cool.” You kissed him then, placing your hands on either side of his face making sure that the kiss looked convincing. Your tongue maneuvered in and out of Brody’s mouth, ebbing and flowing with Brody’s tongue, and before parting you bit down on Brody’s lip making him chuckle.

“Fuck.” He said picking up his half drunken pint. “You really want trouble.”

And trouble was heading towards you, you could tell because the crowd was moving, was parting for him. You could feel it when he got nearer to you, and felt the heat of his anger when he was standing just to the side of you.

“Y/n.” He said, gruffly.

You didn’t look up at him, still looking at Brody who was also ignoring him, sipping on his beer.

“Y/n.” He said a little louder.

You lazily turned your head, your hair brushing your back as it moved. “Chris. What’s up?”

“Let’s talk.” He said, placing his hands in his jeans. “Now.”

“She your property Evans?” Brody sat up, placing his pint down on the bar, sitting up and angling his body so that he was slightly in front of you.

“I wasn’t talking to you Michaels.” Chris said, eyes not moving from yours. You could tell he was clenching and unclenching his jaw, the vein in his neck was starting to bulge a little. “Come with me.” He simply said then, voice low. A warning.

“And if I say no?” You crossed your legs leaning back on the table, the latex of your dress readjusting itself around your curves. You didn’t miss how his eyes honed in on your legs, and then your body. When he met your eyes, you smirked.

He looked away then, mouth moving in what was no doubt a curse. “Y/n.”

“Chris.” You mimicked his tone, smirking at him and then sighed, sitting up again leaning towards him. “Listen, my twin is at the bar. It’s Christy, right? The fucking sophomore that dresses just like me. That wears her hair like mine, that is basically my fucking clone? Go back to that bitch and tell her Halloween is in two months and she needs to do me better.” You grinned as the boys and Zaria laughed.

Chris stepped towards you and you gulped a little, seeing how his eyes narrowed a little. You knew what that look meant and you were excited for it. “I’ll see you later.” He said nodding at you. He smirked then. “I like your dress.”

He walked away, crowd parting for him and then swallowing him. You took a deep breath, posture going from confident to hunched a little as you turned to Zaria. She shook her head, a cup to her lips. You grinned at her.

“Stage 2?” She said after a minute.

You nodded. “Stage 2.”

Stage 2 was simple. Fuck with Chris.

You leaned on the bar when you made it through the crowd, asking for two rum and cokes. You made sure your back was arched slightly, so the latex of your dress cupped your round ass just right. You turned your head slightly and found that you had a captive audience.

You looked at Sean, then Greg, and finally Chris who seemed to be getting more annoyed or angry, or both by the minute. You honed in on Christy who was still talking to Chris, who had already stopped listening to her.

“Hey.” You said, loud enough for Christy to hear you over the music and her own non-stop talking. She looked over, eyes slightly widening when she saw that it was you who was trying to get attention. She smiled then, pushing her hair behind her ears.

“It’s Crystal right?” You asked her, smiling innocently.

“Christy actually.” She said, voice smooth and soft.

You looked her over, smiling at her as she fidgeted when you met her eyes again, “You’re pretty. Do I know you from somewhere?”

You heard Chris suck his teeth, and saw him bring his drink, now a cup of something clear instead of the beer he was drinking. You pursed your lip as you made a show of really thinking about it. “Were you on homecoming court last year?”

She nodded smile bright on her face, “Yeah. I was Mrs. Freshman.”

You snapped, “That’s right! I remember saying that you were so pretty.” You could hear Zaria snickering back behind you and you nudged her discreetly. “Are you running again this year?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know. Do you think I could?”

You nodded, telling the truth this time. Although she was basically emulating you, you couldn’t deny that she was quite pretty. In fact, when you first saw her on Chris’s Instagram, it shook you that she was so pretty. You probably wouldn’t be going so hard if she wasn’t so pretty. It really grinded your gears. “I think you could and should. And you should get a move on. You’ve already lost a lot of time.”

“I’ll run then. What about you?” She asked, moving closer to you, completely forgetting Chris.

“Her? Of course, she is, what’s a drama queen without her crown?” Chris commented, making you look at him. He smirked then, knowing he caught you off guard.

“So rude. I’m not sure how you deal with him.” You smirked at Christy who laughed.

“He’s alright sometimes. I mean you’ve dealt with him. You know.” She shared a sisterly smile with you and you genuinely laughed. Your twin was alright. It was just too bad…

“You didn’t come here with friends? No offense Greg, Sean, but hanging out with these assholes must be boring.” You smiled at her, and then thanked the bartender when he brought your drinks over. You turned to Zaria. “This is Zaria, Zaria this is Cryst- Christy. Sorry babe.” You turned to her, smiling innocently.

“No, it’s okay. Hi Zaria.”

Zaria waved, smiling. “Hey girl. You look good, I swear I’ve seen that outfit before.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing. “Hey, what do you say you hang out with us tonight?”

Christy smiled, “Really…I mean, I came here to hang with Chris.”

You batted the air, looking at Chris quickly and loving the daggers he was staring at you. “He won’t mind. He doesn’t own you anyway. Hey, we might be able to find you another man tonight.” You smirked, getting on one side of her and Zaria took the other side, you guided her to an empty booth.

You looked back at Chris, watching him with evil glee on your face as he watched you take his date away.

For the past 15 minutes you had been listening to Zaria and Christy talk, sitting in the middle of them in the booth, your eyes only on Chris who was staring at you as well. He had not moved from the spot at the bar, his position giving him a straight unfiltered view of you. You circled the rim of your glass that had long been empty, watching him with lowered eyes. He brought his drink up to his lips, only nodding at something that Sean told him.

You sat back a little, raising your head in defiance. You looked towards Christy, who was smiling as Zaria told her a story about a horrible professor she once had. When you looked back, you saw that Chris had looked at Christy as well and now was turning his head back towards you. You tilted your head a little, mouth turning up when he rolled his eyes.

“She’s cute.” You mouthed.

He sat the glass down, and stood upright. “Come here.” He mouthed back.

You shook your head, thrill running through your body when he stretched his neck, knowing if you were closer to him you would have heard that satisfying pop. When he focused on you again, he mouthed. “You’re driving me up the fucking wall.”

You laughed then.

Christy turned towards you, mousy eyes wide, “What?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head, placing your eyes on her. “Come on, let’s dance.”

Stage 3 was going off without a hitch. You had Christy between you and Zaria, making a pretty sandwich on the dance floor. You danced with each other, against each other, alternating between grinding and actually dancing. Every now and again your eyes would turn to where Chris was. He was alone now, nursing another drink. Sean and Greg had long since abandoned their moody friend choosing instead to dance with two attractive girls. You almost felt bad for Chris, you had ruined a frat night for him at his favorite spot, but this was his fault. It was his fault that you had to go through such lengths to fuck with him, just to show him that he was fooling himself.

There was no replacement for you.

No fucking sophomore was going to take your spot.

You made eyes with Chris, smiling when he sighed running his hand over his face. You would make all of this up to him one day, but right now he needed to suffer.

“Hey! I’ve got to pee.” You shouted.

“You want me to come with you.” Christy asked, still dancing against Zaria.

You shook your head. “Nah, I’m good. Dance. Have fun!” You grinned patting her shoulder.

You made eye contact with Chris one more time, before turning and heading to the bathroom that was located on the other side of the bar, down a darkened hallway.

You waited for five minutes before you turned and touched up your lip gloss. It would be any minute that Chris would be walking through that door. He would close the door and turn the lock, pushing you against the wall with his body, taking your neck in his hand. He would say through clenched lips,

“You’re going to fucking get it.”

And you would let him have you. All of you.

You wiped at the corner of your lips, looking up at the small clock on the wall. Another five minutes had passed. You looked at yourself in the mirror, reflection the image of sex kitten perfection, but maybe you had miscalculated somewhere. You looked at the door, hoping that it would open and tell you that Chris still wanted you as bad as you wanted him.

…You waited another two minutes. It was busy. So maybe it was taking him a while to get through the crowd.

You sighed when another minute passed. This was getting stupid. You stood upright and walked over to the door opening it up.

But just as suddenly as you opened a hand was pushing it open, and that same hand shot out and grabbed your neck pushing you back into the bathroom.

You smirked up at Chris, his eyes darkened with anger or lust or both.

“What took you so long?”

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