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wisecrackingeric-2 · 11 months

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I Don’t Care, I Love You

Leon S. Kennedy/Luis Sera

Warnings: Canon-typical gore, I try to keep it as non-descriptive as possible, and yelling

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a happy ending

Summary: This is the sequel to the fic Let Me Show You How on my page under the tag ‘ericswriting’

Breaking into a rich guys mansion party and destroying his evil science lair should be easy enough… Right? That is, as long as Leon doesn’t discover his feelings for Luis during the mission and have a total breakdown over it

AN: Once again, this is the second part to my fic ‘Let Me Show You How’ which is on my page, please go read that first to understand this fic!!! Also, please go check out both parts on AO3!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/47597077

And once again again, this fic was inspired by the amazing art by @Mostlyghostly42 on here and Instagram!! Please go give them support!!

((Also, during the part when the lights go out; I need y’all to imagine the Power Outage sound effect in FNAF 1 when you’ve run out of battery. You guys know the one))

—

Leon hated this.

Actually, that’s a lie; a very small part of him was extremely amused

But mostly he hated everything about this.

Leon and Luis had stepped into the ballroom from the storage closet like they belonged there, and sure enough, not a single person batted an eye. The gathering was big when they entered, but as more and more guests arrived it became unbearably crowded. Each person more flamboyant and each outfit more extravagant than the last, Leon eyed up as many party-goers as he could, trying his best to examine how they mingled and socialized with one another. How they held their drinks, when and what jokes they laughed at; it became an increasingly daunting task as the later the night got, the louder and drunker the guests got.

Leon and Luis were sent to search a large, expensive mansion owned by a Mr. Rupert Anderson- a millionaire who was apparently grasping onto life by the seams of his shirt.

On the surface he was just another old decrepit millionaire; but neither of the agents would be there if that was just the case. Unfortunately.

Mr Rupert Anderson had been suspected of building a giant underground laboratory underneath his mansion in the mountainsides, housing a horde of sentient DNA that he intended on selling and reviving as glorified B.O.W’s.

Because of coarse he was. What else do rich people do with their money.

And that’s exactly how Leon landed himself at the largest party he’s ever been to; dresses up to the nines in the most flowery dress he’s ever worn, nodding and smiling along with his fellow guests at whoever seemed to have the invisible talking stick. He tried his best to convince Hunnigan that he’d be useless- his social skills were notoriously bad- but she just told him to ‘smile and wave’

Leon sipped at his free wine, eyes scanning the heads of the crowd; neither him or Luis were on a time-crunch, but they needed to find the backdoor to the underground basement eventually

But Luis seemed to be enjoying himself. A lot.

Just behind Leon, Luis stood head-centre in a circle of women, each one more doe-eyed than the last. Leon couldn’t hear what he was saying, but whatever it was, it was apparently the most interesting thing in the world to these women; they’d chime in to ask for more, brushing his shoulders or nudging him on with their elbows. And Luis, ever the gentlemen, would oblige; He’d give them a smirk and a wink and he’d even lean in a little, speaking with his hands as if he was telling them a secret. They’d giggle along, too, almost as if they were on que.

And Leon hated it.

He couldn’t figure out why, but it made his stomach churn and his throat feel right.

While Luis entertained the girls of the evening like it was his second language, Leon was struggling to even stand upright. The bright lights of the chandelier overhead bouncing against the reflective floor made it hard for him to keep eye contact with whoever he was listening to drone on. Admittedly, yea, it was a little funny to watch how rich people acted around one another; but Leon wasn’t rich. Leon had no social status. Faced with the realization that he was painfully out of place, Leon found himself feeling like he was in his 20’s again- constantly aware of his own skin and people’s eyes boring into them. A 20-something year old rookie cop doing his best, but never getting it right.

He hated it. But at least he knew why he hated it.

As the older, greying, curly moustache-having gentleman turned to a waiter to order another wine, Leon took the opportunity to shoot a glance over his shoulder to Luis- who was grinning cheekily at a lady in a pink ruffle dress. His thumb was barely under he chin, but she was looking at Luis like he was the entire world.

Leon couldn’t take it anymore.

He hated this feeling in his gut and he hated not knowing why it was even there to begin with even more.

With a quick, mumbled ‘excuse me’, Leon turned and made his way to Luis; ungraciously slipping past the circle of women to get his investigation partners’ attention. Luis looked up from the lady he was talking to,

“Ah! Sancho! I’ve been looking everywhere for you,”

Sancho? What happened to Dulcinea? A pain of disappointment stabbed Leon’s chest. Why did he care? ‘I don’t care, actually,’ he told himself. ‘I’m just being stupid’

“Have you met Cecelia here by chance?”

So Luis was on a first-name basis with these women now? Well at least he’s quick with it.

“N-no, I haven’t…”

Leon was suddenly very aware that he didn't exactly have a reason for excusing himself to come over and talk to Luis. His brain went blank with things to think about; suddenly the list of excuses him and Luis had come up with in the taxi on the way had conveniently slipped his mind.

But thank god, Luis took the lead; “Are you feeling alright, Sancho? Your face looks rather flushed”

Suddenly the four girls had their full focus on him and Leon felt all too put on the spot. But the perfect excuse popped into his brain right in the nick of time. He began to purposefully blink slowly,

“Oooh, I don’t think so, mate…” Leon hated the word ‘mate’, but maybe it’d match Luis’ energy a little bit. Not that he could ever come close to Luis’ energy. Purposefully slurring his words, Leon hunched his shoulders a little “Whaaat was in that wine, man?”

“Ah, Rosé? Hmm, I dunno, grapes? Tal vez?” Leon diding realize that was supposed to be a joke until the girls started giggling. He tried his best to laugh along but he became uncharacteristically very aware of his crooked smile.

“I’ll getcha to a bathroom before you hurt yourself ay? Ladies, none of you perchance know where one might be…?”

“Oh! My fathers fancy restrooms are just behind those stairs with the gold tassels,” one of the girls spoke up.

Luis and Leon looked at each other with a glint in their eyes. Leon tried his best to not be obvious

“Your father..?”

“Mister Rupert Anderson,” she chuckled, giving Luis a wink. “He’d hate for me to be telling you where it is! But you get yourselves in all sorts of danger, don’t you?”

Luis just gave her a quick smile, clearly being able to sense Leon’s growing impatience. “Well muchas gracias, Cecilia- I’ll come back to join you soon enough”

Luis leaned down to peck a kiss on the top of her hand, and Leon felt actually a little bit sick.

It got even worse when the flirty Spaniard wrapped an arm around his waist, pressing Leon close to his side.

“Come on, then, Dulcinea” he whispered into his ear; low enough so only Leon could hear

“Wouldn’t want you tripping over your feet, eh?”

All Leon could do was feverishly nod. His body suddenly felt like it was being electrified, and he was genuinely grateful he had Luis to lean on in the moment.

Waving away his suitors, Luis haphazardly lead Leon to the staircase the girl had told them the bathroom was; while they obviously didn't have a drawn-out map ready to go, Hunnigan had gained access to the underground pipe system the entire mansion was connected to, and concluded that the room was most likely connected to a bathroom or some other place where pipes wouldn’t be out-of-place. An underground bunker filled with dangerous sentient DNA and god only knows what else was bound to need some air conditioning.

Safely out of the doe-eyed gazes of the crowd, Luis straightened himself up and wiped down his coat; Leon couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed at the loss of contact from his side has he haphazardly smoothed down his hair to regain some composure.

“So, what’s your plan now, yankee?”

Leon blinked up in surprise, his mind suddenly going blank. He realized he hadn’t thought this far ahead; his main goal was mostly just to get Luis’ attention. Not on himself or anything, though. “M-My plan?”

“Yeah, whaddya have in mind for finding this snobs lair?”

Oh that’s right. The mission. That’s what they’re there for.

“O-Oh yeah, of coarse… I guess we could just waltz in or something..” Leon mumbled his way through the sentence, doing his best not to make eye contact with Luis; who couldn’t hide his knowing smirk. Underneath the protection of the large, spiraled staircase, Luis finally let go of Leon and straightened himself up; Leon couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed at the loss of contact. But at least he could drop the act

Luis stood with his arms crossed, leaning on his left leg and tilting his head to the side slightly, examining the wall in front of them

“Soooo… where’s the door?” He gestured to the seemingly empty wall in front of them, adorned with gold trims and a fern-like pattern going in green and white order. There were small grooves indented into the wall, and some of them felt a little off to Leon- like they hadn’t been measured apart properly. He took a closer, running his hands along the wall and pressing against the groves until he felt one of them loosen. Peering in, he could see that there was a tiny hollow slit; with the tips of his fingers he hooked the groove and gently pushed the wall inwards; to which it revealed a dark bathroom

Luis flashed Leon a smile, making his heart flutter in a way he couldn’t quite place

“Nice work, El detective!” He praised, before opening his hands out and bowing a little, gesturing to the entrance. “After you, I insist!”

“You just want me to protect you” Leon scoffed, feeling a little bit of his old self coming back. He got hit with a sense of Déjà vu; this wasn’t the first time Luis had insisted on Leon going first to protect him. Luis trusted him

“Of coarse!” Luis smiled, “You’re my Guardia privado, after all”

With a playful scoff, Leon stepped foot into the bathroom… and undramatically flipped the light switch to reveal a Very Ordinary bathroom. Not entirely ordinary though, to be fair; it was massive, the bathtub easily being the size of a poolside hot tub, and the shower had the most floor space Leon had ever seen a shower have in his life, and the toilet had presumably its own entire blocked-off room, judging by the door on the other side. The entire bathroom sparkled white, but Leon’s eyes were drawn to what was behind the shower; a dark, ominous drop-down staircase with seemingly no end. He kept staring at it, trying to examine where it might lead- he didn't even notice Luis shutting the secret door behind him. Or Luis approaching behind him

“Can you imagine trying to have a shower with that right next to you?” Leon almost jumped out of his skin when he felt Luis’ breath on his neck; he was inches away from him, and he’d be lying if his face wasn’t flushed pink

“Jesus Christ Luis- yeah, whatever, I guess that would be extremely ominous to shower beside- but don’t scare me like that!”

Luis just gave him a cheeky, toothy grin; clearly with zero remorse. “But you scare so easily, Hermosa!”

So Luis was back with the pet names. That at least bought Leon a little comfort; but those feelings were quickly replaced when his mind reminded him of how easily and flawlessly Luis flirted- was he flirting?- with the lovely rich ladies earlier. ‘I bet he calls every woman he meets petnames like that’ he couldn’t help but think to himself. He didint mean to fall so deep into self-doubt; but it was like a poison. It crept up on his mind and stuck so easily. It reminded him of something he’d rather forget… a plague he’d rather never remember having inside of him.

Luis could sense Leon’s change in demeanor. “Hey, cariño, I didint actually upset you, did I-“

“No no, not at all,” Leon was suspiciously quick to shut him down, but turned to look at the rotting ladder to nowhere so he could hide his expression. Luis was scarily good at reading expressions. He tried to ignore Luis’ comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I was just thinking….” He paused for a moment to come up with a good excuse. And then realized something with a small sense of dread. “I’m gonna have to get this dress off before I go down there”

Luis let out a laugh, but it felt a little forced and awkward. “Aaawwwe, already? Are you that desperate to get it off? And here I was just starting to enjoy it…”

Leon did his best to ignore that it.

“You’ve got the spare clothes, right?”

Leon was met with silence. He swiveled his head around fo face Luis, who was looking at him with wide, innocent eyes

“Spare clothes? I thought you picked those up in the taxi”

Leon’s heart fell to his feet as he looked at Luis in horror, mouth agape and his breathing stopped completely. He was about to say something….

When Luis revealed and held up the purse full of spare clothes he had hidden behind his back.

Leon was this close to killing him.

“You asshole!” He practically shouted, pushing Luis’ shoulders back as he snatched the purse out of his hands with vigor- he tried to keep his expression angry and appalled- which he was very much so feeling- but it was hard when Luis was buckled over with pure laughter, holding his sides in glee as he struggled to keep himself upright, slipping on the bathroom tiles; his eyes were squeezed shut as he kept giggling to himself like it was the funniest thing in the entire universe.

His smile was way too contagious, and Leon found himself struggling to hold back his grin.

“¡Dios mío! D-dios mío- tu cara- La expresión de tu cara no tiene precio-“ Leon had to physically put his hand over his mouth to not join in Luis’ laughter, trying to maintain some dignity but by god could he not stop staring at Luis. Which in turn made him wanna laugh more. But how could he not?

Luis was absolutely angelic when he laughed. That sense of pure, unconditional joy was so painfully human in nature it made Leon feel a certain way he couldn’t put a pin on. He found himself admiring everything about the way Luis laughed without abandon; the way his nose crinkled, the way the wrinkles around the edges of his mouth and under his eyes were exaggerated; the way you could see all of his teeth and the way his eyebrows scrunched together and the way his whole body joined in when he laughed.

Leon let himself enjoy the moment, for once.

This wasn’t the same, fabricated, flirtatious and well-crafted laughter he’d give the the ladies on the dance floor; no, this was genuine

At least, he hoped it was genuine.

He hoped the laughter he gave those women wasn’t the same as he exposed to Leon.

But what if it was? What if Luis was this unconservative to every person; what if Leon wasn’t special, and this moment wasn’t anything special?

Leon hated this.

He hated the way his mind poisoned every good moment.

He hated the way he found himself over analyzing every interaction with Luis; he hated the fact that there was a small chance this was all just for show.

As Luis stood himself up, letting out the last of his giggles and wiping the tears from his eyes, Leon shuffled around in the bag, looking for his clothing; doing his best to ignore the thoughts that plagued his brain.

“What’s the hurry, cariño?” Luis teased, causing Leon’s face to unwantedly heat up

“Want me to kiss that makeup off your face while you’re at it too, eh?”

Leon grumbled something inaudible as he hid his growing blush from Luis; throwing his high-heels behind him for the other man to catch.

“Don’t look”

Leon’s voice was demanding but inside he was begging

“I’m gonna get undressed”

He caught a flash of.. genuine disappointment?? On Luis’ face as he pouted, crossing his arms and diligently facing the wall.

“Awwwe whaaat? First you’re taking off the dress and now you won’t even let me look? Medio, bonito, medio”

Leon could feel his head beating faster inside his chest as he struggled to figure out how to maneuver the dress off of himself; his corset hooks getting caught on boxers and tugging the skirt down.

“Can I get a peek?”

“No” Leon felt his hands start to tremble as his breath quickened. Luis was just teasing, he told himself. ‘Y’know what? I bet he does this to all the girls he hooks up with.’

As much as Leon tried to reason with his own mind; his heat wouldn’t stop fluttering with embarrassment in his chest.

If Leon was being truthful, he would kill to turn around and show himself off to Luis. Maybe even get him flustered by some miracle.

But he has pride to at least try to maintain.

But after what felt like an eternity, Leon still couldn’t reach his arms around to try and untie the strings of his corset; his arms restricted by the flouncy sleeves.

He knew there was only one option out but he hated the option out. He sighed in defeat,

“…Luis?”

“Yes, cariño?”

“……Can you help me, please” Leon didint mean for his voice to sound so squeaky and quiet, and he prayed Luis wouldn’t take advantage of it…

But instead Luis simply strolled over without a word and began to unravel the strings in silence.

Leon could feel his throat tighter and his head both stop and go a million miles an hour at the same time as Luis got so close to him.

Again.

He was addicted to the feeling of his breath on his neck; the way he just wordlessly worked away, being so respectful and polite of Leon and looking away when the corset finally slipped off-

Leon could’ve sworn he fell in love right then and there. But of coarse, he didint. That would be stupid. If that were the case, Leon was sure to be Luis’ nth suitor. He wasn’t special.

Leon was quick to recover his binder and tactical shirt; he didint want to mention it, but the dress’ low-cut gave him a fair amount of dysphoria the whole party. But he found that, with age and time, his dysphoria wasn’t even close to being nearly as bad as it was when he was a teen, and was very easy to ignore and manage.

And Luis, the ever respectful gentlemen; waited patiently without teasing for Leon to reclothe himself. Once finished, he threw Luis the remaining spare clothes, which consisted of some more practical tactical gear and his iconic leather jacket that Leon couldn’t help but notice smelt like him. He offered Luis the same courtesy and turned to stare at the wall; ignoring the fact that the idea of seeing Luis without clothes was insanely appealing to him. Definitely didint make his heart jump out of his chest. Nope, not at all.

Once he heard the zip of Luis’ fly, he turned back around but was awkwardly met with a completely shirtless Luis.

The circuits in his brain malfunctioned for a good while.

Luis noticed this and took advantage of the moment.

“¿Te gusta lo que ves?” He showed off a little, jutting his hips out a little and putting his weight on one leg.

Leon would be lying to god if he said he didint enjoy staring at Luis’ chest. His scars, his abs- Leon had to cough and cover his face, forcing himself to turn away before Luis could short-circuit him any longer. All he got in reply was a soft laugh from Luis.

He forced himself to turn back to the target at hand; the weird, rotting ladder that lead to a dark void.

“You first?” Leon gave Luis a forced grin, and offered out his hand. Luis scoffed, but took it; thankfully with a shirt and jacket back on.

“Gracias, bonito”

Leon watched with a small sense of growing anxiety as Luis backed himself down the ladder; his grip on his partners hand getting tighter the further their distance become until he heard Luis’ boots hit the floor at the bottom.

Leon never let go of his stretched out hand as he made his way down the fence; boots hitting the floor sooner than he had expected.

Turning around, the two men found that the ‘endless void’ was more of an illusion; the walls were painted black to hide a long, equally unnerving hallway- the only lights were yellowed and flickering, spaced out enough that there were rows of darkness between them.

Leon had to squint to see the door at the end of the hallway; it was large, and looked air-tight. But from their distance not much else could be made out; the hallway was, again, creepily long. It diding help that the room smelt… damp. Old. The same smell you get from a retirement home room whose most recent resident had already passed. Despite there being nothing indicating any danger; Leon still couldn’t help but feel uneasy. And of coarse, Luis picked up on that.

Luis gave Leon’s hand a reassuring squeeze; he hadn’t even realized he was still holding on by the time he made it to the bottom

“Stick close to me, eh, Dulcinea? I’ll protect you” Luis winked at him and Leon felt an odd sense of comfort wash over him. Like for a second, he could genuinely believe that nothing would hurt him as long as Luis was by his side. All he could do was nod as the two ventured down the hallway; walking side by side in silence as the only sound filling their ears was the deafening hum of the flickering lights.

As they walked in silence, Leon couldn’t help but stare occasionally at Luis’ face; the way the orange-yellow lights crossed over his face to accentuate his most charming of features; the curve of the bridge of his nose, his low eyelids, the way his hair fell in such delicate and perfect curls… his big, long, fluffy eyelashes and his ever-constant resting smile…. His skin seemed to shine every time they passed directly under a light; setting his warm skin tone aglow. It was a weird moment to appreciate Luis’ beauty, Leon knew that; but the way they walked in sync, in complete silence, with Leon’s hand clasped against Luis’…..

Something clicked inside Leon’s brain.

Something that should’ve clicked a long, long time ago.

He realized something that really, really should not have been appropriate for the location they were in;

Leon was madly in love with Luis.

His heart dropped.

A sense of dread washed over him.

He felt his body to numb at the realisation.

Luis could tell something was wrong. Of coarse he did. Of fucking coarse Luis knew there was something up. When didint he know? He knew when Krauser showed up something was wrong. He knew when the Plaga started to creep up into Leon’s brain that something was wrong.

He always knew.

“Leon, what’s-“

Fffffwwwwhoooooommmmm

Suddenly, all the shut off; not in a sudden, instant flash; but with a slow, gradual dim. Accompanied by a noise that was so familiar yet was too difficult to name. Leon instinctively grasped onto Luis’ hand tighter

“Leo-“

“Sssh” Leon quickly shushed him, straining his ears to listen out for the party above to try and hear if the power had gone out upstairs too.

But all he could hear was the ringing in his ears.

“Leon” Luis finally got his attention, his voice stern.

Leon couldn’t see him at all; barely even being able to make out the outline of his own hand in front of his face, let alone the person beside him he suddenly felt very, very claustrophobic in the darkness; he relied on Luis’ hand

“Leon, what’s going on with you?” Luis pried. His voice was uncharacteristically serious, a genuine tone of concern laced it.

It reminded Leon of the way he spoke when he got stabbed. The way he was so certain he was going to bleed out on that dirty concrete with a knife in his back.

“I know somethings wrong, I- Dios Mío, I know it’s not exactly comfortable here but I can just tell there’s something more going on you’re not telling me”

Maybe it was the unwanted realization he was in love. Maybe it was the way Luis pried; Leon wasn’t used to people continuing to press his buttons when he gave them the cold shoulder. Maybe it was the way his brain kept replaying the image of Luis flirting with those rich women in his mind; that same horrible feeling creeping up his brain. Maybe it was the fact that he was unwantedly reminded of the day he almost lost Luis. The day he almost lost the man he’s come fo realise he loves more than anything else in this horrible, unforgiving universe. He hadnt felt so full of love since he was a rookie cop, completely unaware of the horrors his body was about to be put through.

But Leon snapped at Luis. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Just give it up, Luis!”

Leon shouted, ripping his hand out of his partners; he immediately regretted it, the loss of contact meant the loss of any reassurance he once had in this dark hallway.

“Give what up, Leon?” He could hear the hiss in Luis’ voice; but he never raised his tone. Leon hated that. He hated that he loved that.

“You know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t.” Luis growled, he could hear him stepping closer.

“Why don’t you let me know-“

“Stop acting like you care!” Leon shouted at him, holding himself like a scared child

“I see how you acted around those women! I know how you act around everyone else! I’m nothing special to you!! I’m just another toy for you to play with, right?! You love watching me get embarrassed and you love to tease me but it means nothing at the end of the day!”

Leon knew he’d gone too far. But he didint care. His whole body shook and his eyes welled up with tears and he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Stop acting like you love me genuinely!!! Stop acting like you don’t just feel sorry for me, sorry that I’m just a poor, easy-to-tease rookie cop from Raccoon City- I know you don’t ACTUALLY LOVE ME”

Leon’s whole body shook. He didint even notice how fast his tears slipped down his face- his nose was blocked and he was struggling to breathe. His fists balled up and he wished now more than ever he didint let go of Luis’ hand.

There was a few seconds of silence in the darkness before Luis finally spoke up.

“Oh, Leon..” he barely whispered. Leon felt like he was going to burst out sobbing at how soft his voice was.

“I… I didint know you thought I was-“

He paused, heavily considering what to say next. Leon could hear him stepping closer.

Luis’ hand reached for Leon’s face. Somehow knowing where to find it in the dark. He wiped away Leon’s tears

“I’m… Cariño, if I knew you thought I was toying with you… I would’ve- I’m so sorry…” he whispered softly, and the guilt rising in Leon’s chest was enough to make him vomit. Luis was far, far too gentle with him; holding his face like if he breathed too hard, it may shatter.

“N-no- no don’t b-be sorry-“ Leon choked on his words, shaking his head

“I shouldn’t have yelled- I’m s-so sorry-“

“Ssshhhh, don’t cry, mi amor..” Luis’ hand brushed away any remaining tears.

“Ive got you, ok?” And he was right. Luis’ other hand was resting on his shoulder. Leon could feel his breath against his face.

Luis let out a small chuckle, “did you honestly think that all those times I was complimenting you, I was just teasing you?”

This made Leon smile and give a small, exhaled laugh,

“A-admittedly? Yeah, I couldn’t tell if you were flirting with me or not”

Luis grinned; Leon couldn’t see it, obviously- he could just tell

“You’re so estúpido, you know that, right?”

Leon nodded.

“You know I do love you, though, right? I think I loved you from the day I met you”

“In a body bag?”

“Besides the point,” Luis lightheartedly scoffed. “You put your entire life out on the line for me. You stuck by my side and you put up with all my antics; you listened to my story when I told it to you, cariño! You gave me the benefit of the doubt I didint deserve. You gave me a second chance”

Leon felt guilty for all the praise, “that’s a lot coming from someone like you”

“Like mí?”

“Yeah. Sure, you’re attractive and you’re suave and you can flirt your way out of a grave- but you’re brave. You’re so, so much braver than I am. You have morals.. you’re just amazing, Luis”

There was a moment of silence between them.

“You think I’m attractive?”

Leon burst out laughing, he could feel Luis’ body giggling along against his.

“Yeah, maybe I do”

“Wanna show me just how attractive you think I am?”

“…In the dark?”

“cobarde”

Leon held his breath and closed his eyes, despite it not being necessary- he leaned in until….

Fffffffwwwwwwuuuuuummphhh!

Suddenly all the lights were back on; Leon had to blink rapidly to save himself from a painful headache. But Luis was just inches away from his face; he stared up at Leon through is eyelashes in a way that made Leon wanna stop breathing altogether.

Unfortunately, the moment was cut short when a sharp rattle echoed from the airtight door at the end. It only rattled once, and went silent after; but it was a noise nonetheless. It could have very easily been passed off as the wind if it wasn’t for the fact that they were underground.

Right. The mission. Forgot about that.

“G-guess we better take a look at that then-“

Leon was cut off when Luis’ hand returned to his face, pulling back towards his gaze. Leon gulped

“Why’d you stop?”

“B-because the doo-“

Leon was cut short when Luis closed the space between them with a kiss.

He blinked in surprise a couple times- trying to decipher what was going on in his blurry point of view. But it did it take Leon very long to figure out it was his turn to close his eyes and lean into the kiss back;

He parted his mouth a little and tilted his head to the side, leaving Luis plenty of room to deepen the kiss if he so chose to. Leon took this opportunity to reach his hands up and tangle them in Luis’ long, curly dark locks- he gently squeezed his hands, savoring the feeling of his hair in between his fingers; meanwhile Luis kept their chests close as he pulled him in by the waist.

Leon diding want this moment to end.

He’d never in his life been so vulnerable with somebody before; it felt like the sun after a downpour of rain; warming his soul and leaving him desperate for more. It probably also helped that Luis was just a good kisser, too. Luis brushes his blonde bangs out of his face and Leon giggled against his lips, knowing that his hair was probably getting in his lovers eyes.

When Luis stepped back, Leon gave out a little whine at the loss of contact- which just made Luis smile. Leon could stare at Luis and his smile all day if it was a possibility.

Luis opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a Ra-rattle! Ra-rattle! R-rattle! Coming from the end of the hallway.

Both men instinctively whipped their heads around to face the noise; pulling out their guns to aim at the large metal door. Leon’s hand was still clasped in Luis’.

They turned to face each other, and gave one another a little nod before walking forward.

They each pushed their body weight against the metal door, and surprisingly, it opened; guns aimed over their shoulders and body’s tense and ready ti fight. But when the door slowly swung open with a low grown, they weren’t met with a terrifying monster or super weapon; instead, they found themselves in what could only be described as the most stereotypical underground science basement ever

The lights were a dull blue as they shined over tables and tables of old, dusty startup computers and plastic container bins filled to the brim with paperwork reaching right up to the ceiling; there were about seven fold up tables in the room, and each of them more cluttered and filled with cords and typewriters than the last. Surprisingly, there was in fact a window; it lead up to the surface and shone the moonlight down into the room, alongside a heavy breeze which was probably the cause for the rattling. Dust seemed to hang heavy in the air as the main thing both men had their eyes on was dead front center; a table covered in moving, grotesque mounds of beating flesh and bacteria.

“So much for romance,” Leon noted. Luis rolled his eyes,

“No offense cariño but you’ve chosen probably the worst place on earth to confess your love for me”

Leon let out a fake gasp and whacked him, confidence suddenly filling his body again as his eyes quickly examined the room and found that there was no signs of danger; y’know, besides the beating virus on the table. Gross.

“You initiated that kiss, if I don’t recall”

“Oye” Luis laughed, stepping closer to the examination table with less caution than he probably should have. He tilted the one singular lamp that was aimed at the weird virus specimens and it seemed to stop beating at the harsh light.

“So what’s your plan, Yankee? Gonna call for backup? I don’t think us alone is gonna be enough to collect all this” he waved his gun over the table, but was also referencing the entire room; it was filled to the brim with the perfect evidence to convict the rich sad sod behind this operation to prison.

“I say we burn it” Leon mumbled, only half joking. “It’s too gross and dangerous to keep alive”

“You can have my lighter,” Luis offered, referencing his ever-iconic lighter he was always playing with between his fingers.

“But, aye, shouldn’t we wait for-“

A loud, grotesque, wet screech filled the air as Leon instinctively covered his ears and hunched over; only seconds later did the glass from the window smash and shatter all over the floor, cutting into Leon’s boots- but when he looked up, he was faced with a giant, fleshy, beating creature that looked like a much larger version of the small bacteria mounds on the table. The head was scarily human; it was that of an old man, with a wiry beard and a small mustache, his eyes were blown wide and his mouth open far too wide to be considered normal

“Looks like we found our Rupert Anderson!” Luis shouted over the high-pitched screeching, and Leon expertly dodged out of the way of a large, clawed hand- bumping into Luis’ side as he fired his gun straight into the chest of the large beast, shots ringing in his ears.

Mr Rupert- or what was left of him- turned to face Leon and locked its focus onto him; with one final loud screech, it used its third long, fleshy arm to just barely miss Leon by an inch.

All Leon cared about was Luis, though, and turned around to make sure he was unharmed- smiling to himself when he saw the Spaniard was completely uninjured.

“Leon, look out-!”

As he was distracted, Leon hadn’t noticed that this thing had a goddamn tail- and it whacked him straight across the stomach, launching him back-first into the wall behind him. His head slammed the metal door, and he could feel his vision and head going blurry. He could just make out the muffled cries of Luis as his gunshot rang in his ears….

Before Leon completely blacked out.

“Leon? Earth to Leon? Are you there, Yankee?”

“Oh come on, love, we made it out- just wake up for me already…”

“Leon…?”

“Leon!!”

Leon was jolted awake and almost slammed his forehead against Luis’; gasping for air as he held his ribs in pain. His eyes squeezed shut and his whole body felt like it was on fire; but a quiet, gentle shushing and a hand running through his hair bought him back down to reality

“Y-you’re awake! F-finally! Dios Mío, took ya long enough hey..”

Leon blinked his eyes a few times to try and regain his composure; but he wasn’t standing up.

Quite the opposite.

Luis was kneeling down, holding him bridal style in his arms; staring down at his lover with the biggest look of relief Leon’s ever seen on anyone’s expression before. As his vision slowly became clearer, he could make out the morning sky behind Luis- the sun washing over his silhouette and the crown of his hair, making him look adjacent to an angel.

“W-where… what-“

“You’re alright, alright? You’re safe- hah, I feel like I’m running on pure adrenaline right now…”

Sure enough, when Leon looked around him, he found they were sitting in the large hedge maze that was planted behind the mansion; the morning sun rose over the ocean as Leon could barely make out the small basement window that had been completely smashed they must’ve come out of. Glass, blood and… other miscellaneous fluids were splattered across the garden.

And, conveniently, Luis was also covered head to toe in blood and some other fluids.

It was kinda gross. But also kind of attractive? Maybe Leon was just delirious

“Eso fue una locura, Leon, y-you got knocked out by that giant monster thing and I panicked and just shot it straight in the eyeball- I know that’s not what they taught in basic training but- but I managed to kill Mr Rupert- is that considered murder? I hope not, I feel lightheaded-“

Leon leaned up to give Luis the most unceremonious kiss of his entire life. Mostly to shut him up but also because he felt like he was going to explode with pride and love. He didint give himself time to breathe, so he had to let go pretty quickly; but Luis was panting and grinning like a teenage boy. Sure, it might’ve been a bit gross to kiss somebody who was covered in unidentified fluids and blood, but Leon couldn’t care less.

“T-that was gross, Leon”

“Don’t care. I love you” he panted back

Luis leaned down to press a million more kisses across Leon’s face and lips, all the while grinning like an idiot.

“You finally got your dream, eh, Don Quixote? You saved your Dulcinea” Leon was referencing the way Luis had been holding him bridal-style this entire time, and in his mind he pictured Luis scooping him up and dramatically killing the beast to rush out and save a dying Leon in his arms.

“S-Sí, I suppose I did…” Luis tried and failed to put on his suave, flirtatious persona; but he was too grateful to have Leon in his arms and safe to even care to try.

But back to reality, Leon realized the gravity of their situation; they were all alone in the middle of the mountains with a mansion full of people who were bound to have heard at least some of the fighting downstairs; and god only knows what profanities Luis would’ve shouted in Spanish.

Leon giggled to himself, thinking back to the women Luis so graciously flirted with at the beginning of the night; oh, how scandalised they would be to see him now: covered in blood and feverishly kissing a man he’d just saved

“L-Luis, what’re we gonna do now..? We can’t just walk home, and we don’t exactly have any spare clothes…”

Luis smiled and held up a walkie-talkie that was strapped to his wrist- he shook it triumphantly, grinning wildly, “bet you forget about this baby, huh?”

“I did,” Leon smiled along. Luis’ was contagious.

“I used it to call Hunnigan for some helicopter backup or something government-y like that”

“I’m sure a helicopter won’t be obvious”

“What, with these rich cerdos? I would be surprised if they even batted an eye”

As if like clockwork, the sound of a faraway helicopter droned in the distance; both men turned to face the sky as the silhouette of a chopper rose past the snow-peaked mountains and towards them in front of the sunset. It was picturesque.

Luis looked picturesque in front of the sunset.

“You look so handsome in front of the sunset” Leon confessed.

Luis laughed, leaning down to kiss Leon once more.

“Eres aún más guapo como este, Leon”

The two of them shared a million and one kisses as the helicopter drew closer and closer; eventually getting close enough to land and pick the both of them up.

Neither of them cared if anyone saw them kissing like this.

Neither of them cared about how tired or exhausted or covered in blood they were;

They had each other.

They had each other and they were never letting go again.

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ipromiseimawriter · 6 months

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WIP TITLE GAME

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Tagged by @zahnie - thank you omg!!

From most recently worked on to least (roughly): (I tend to be pretty literal with these for the most part, if they don't already have a title)

destiel fix it fic - draft 2: is what it says on the tin. I will get to chipping at the end of this godforsaken series, so hELP ME. I do have a fancy lil summary though (this could get edited later but y'know!!):

“What are you doing? Dean, no–!” “You asked me to stop you. So I’m stopping you.” ( As promised, the Empty came for Castiel when his soul called. When it sang a happiness so profound that nothing else could possibly contain it. But Dean wasn’t ready to let go – and if you were to ask him, he’d swear he had failed Cas one too many times. So when the time came, he sank right down with him. ) Chuck could’ve called it, really. But there’s no biblical preparation for their journey through the Empty. It’s all up to them, now, while Sam and Jack (and friends) race to undo Chuck’s damage to the world. Alternating POV. 15x18 CODA/Fix-It Fic for end of 15x18/15x19 & beyond [15x20 who is she lmao]

destiel theatre bitches AU: an incredibly self-indulgent AU where Dean and Castiel are professors for a theatre department at a (made-up) small liberal arts school somewhere in Kansas. Cas is a new arrival to the department who's making waves (and suggesting some batshit shows for production), Dean's the gruff and well-loved scene shop head/tech professor who doesn't like his toes getting stepped on (jk yes he does), and they're gonna be soooo normal about it (me when i lie). nearly everyone and their mom is in this AU. we have fun here

Welcome to Purgatory: an original work (longform)! a story inspired by my time interacting with SPN/with other horror-fantasy adjacent medias, some characters I've had for 1000 years, and just - fucking around and finding out. I def tried to NaNoWriMo it before, to no such luck, so I just chip at it on my own time. I've got a running tag for it if you're ever interested! (old summary)

Jules Herrick went missing without a trace in the early nineties, and his hunting partner, Simon Villanova, never saw him again. We jump ahead about twenty-five years and realize why he should’ve stayed missing. Victor and Amelia are two childhood friends separated by time and responsibility, reuniting for what should be a normal road trip under less fortunate circumstances - the death of a mutual friend. However, the trip is quickly derailed by a strange pursuer that sends them on the run, and into action. The people who catch up with them to help are not what they expect. The lives their families have led were kept from the two for safety. But between a rogue demon, its lost hellhound, and a secret organization hunting down the missing man and his cohorts, one question must be asked: What does Jules Herrick want with the end of the world, as they know it?

go catch a sunset (stanford-era dean/the outsiders bullshit): a Stanford-era Dean fic (which has 2 chapters up!) that I sort of use as my lil swimming pool for figuring ideas out? Mostly just speculation and big character thoughts on that very vulnerable time. I'm v much looking forward to introducing both Bobby and Cassie soon, getting some Winchester drama, and picking at those good backstory characters.

mama barracuda (WIP title - eldritch horror type shit): an original work (short story). "There's a monster in the woods, just off the beaten path from Hope's home. She isn't the first to be trapped into position of Keeper for the Barracuda of the Backwoods, but she is the first - in a very long time - to truly understand her. They call her Mama." So essentially - monster collects teeth for her own rotting mouth. Sisyphean effort on the Keeper's part. Symbiotic parasite/mother-daughter type shit. LOTS TO UNPACK.

honorable mention: a bunch of plays and other lil bits that would take me too long to describe <333

tagging: @subtlefires, @disabled-dean , @butchabouttown, @luckshiptoshore , and anyone who wants to play! (this includes all my friends who may see this and go "hey i have wips". give it to me. i want to see it)

#tag game #writing stuff #original work #fanfic #elliot rambles #tagged: zahnie #supernatural #welcome to purgatory

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house-of-cards-and-crime · 7 months

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Heeeyy welcome! (old pinned post)

Welcome to my blog! It's a blog!

I'm gonna be posting fandom stuff, mostly, along with probably some vague ramblings about things that aren't directly fandom related! I also don't know how much/quickly stuff is gonna be posted, especially at first, I need to figure out my followed tags and accounts, find stuff to post about, etc

(Actual info, including fandoms and abt me below the cut!)

(Here's the short of it: Good Omens, Hazbinverse, MCYT, I use he/they and some other pronouns, no specified DNI, please use tone tags, and I have some fun tags! Oh also, I tend to ramble, as evidenced by this post right here)

My active fandoms: Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss, Good Omens, working my way into Death Note, MCYT (i do not support Dream nor do i consider myself a "DSMP fan" anymore, but still have an interest in MCYT content as a whole and fandom content surrounding it!)

I also may end up posting/reblogging some stuff from older fandoms/hyperfixations that I don't really engage in actively anymore, but cross my mind from time to time! (lookin' at you, Voltron)

What about me?: I use it/he/they/xey pronouns, nonbinary transmasc etc etc. I'm very much so neurodivergent and my hyperfixations tend to come in waves of two flavours: ramblings that are genuinely completely incoherent, and full on multi-thousand blocks of analysis text. Both of those will be making their way into this blog! I also have a tendency to swap rapidly between more formal typing styles and much much more informal and casual typing, depending on the tone of the post, so be prepared for that inconsistency! I am also auDHD, so please do use tone tags! I have a tendency to misunderstand tone and may end up asking for clarifications either way, so it's a good way to start!

This is very much gonna be a catch-all for any of my brain thoughts about fandom stuff, and I'm probably not going to bother with a queue, so things are just going to HAPPEN in bursts. I operate in EST but have a really ridiculous sleep schedule, so post times are inconsistent either way. I'm planning on including word counts on posts longer than one "block" of text!

Oh, also, I don't really have a DNI I plan to enforce? Don't come on here if you're, like, a bigot, or gonna harass people about shit they can't control, but I do also block freely. So, I'm not gonna tell you not to come in here, but I post what I post and you post what you post, so if I happen to click on your blog and see something that doesn't sit right with me, I'll go from there (do remember, though, that DNIs go both ways! If I see that something in your DNI, assuming you have one, includes me, I'll also block you then!)

One last thing: tags! I have them! I like being able to organize my stuff on here, so I try to keep several tags that will direct you to the specific stuff you want to see. All posts will also have the appropriate general fandom tags, so you can also go through there.

#helluva hotel : any posts relating to the Hazbinverse, either Helluva Boss or Hazbin Hotel!

#ineffably involved : anything related to Good Omens

#cubic nonsense : things related to both MCYTs and Minecraft the actual game, the game itself is another ongoing interest, so it's likely gonna come up and i'm gonna shove it in this tag!

#asphodel lore : my own thing! i have an OC lore that's really weird and detailed that i want to talk about more, and i'm probably gonna end up posting about it, so here's a tag!

#my own shit : anything I may post that's not directly related to an already-listed fandom

#hyperfixation type beat : posts for things i'm actively or currently hyperfixated on, they come and go

#analytics and word blocks : i tend to analyse stuff and write really long bricks of text about my interests, so anything that gets long enough for me to put it behind a cut purely for length

#stuff and nonsense ramblings etc : tag to catch any shorter and rambly posts, usually stuff that doesn't have much of a deeper meaning but i want to put out there

#this is not mine! : reblogged posts!

#this belongs to someone i know! : reblogged posts specifically from mutuals and people i know outside of tumblr! (used in addition to prev tag)

ANYWAY yeah thank you for reading! I think this post gives a good idea of how off-track and rambly I tend to get-

Actual posts coming real soon! (like, in a few minutes soon)! Welcome again, enjoy your stay, it gets weird!

#pinned post #intro post #fandom blog #my own shit

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todoscript · 3 years

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how he would ask you out

request: pls some headcanons of how the boys (shinsou/tamaki/shouto) would ask the girl they like out 🥺

characters: shinsou hitoshi, amajiki tamaki, todoroki shouto

genre: fluff

word count: 3.3k+ total, 900-1200 per character

tags: pining, confessions, fem!reader

author’s notes: sorry if this sounds rushed?? i can’t write

SHINSOU HITOSHI

two years after his enrollment into the hero course, shinsou had finally came to terms with the feelings he’s been holding for you for quite some time now.

what began as just friendly encounters and kind gestures felt like something more to him. after all, you were one of the key people that led him to transition smoothly into the class, with your helpful demeanor and coming to his aid whenever he was stressed and troubled by the new environment.

you went out of your way to organize study sessions and small arrangements to mingle and get to know the other students better.

you reiterated to him that if he ever had any questions about anything, he could always come to you.

initially, shinsou thought he was being a burden—that he was just heavy baggage that tied you down.

however, you assured he was anything but, and stated that you were more than happy to help him, even going to say you enjoyed spending time and getting to learn more about him.

at your response, shinsou was appalled at how genuine you were.

appalled… but also very grateful.

eventually, there came a point when he realized there was no mistaking the affection he felt for you—not when he subconsciously noted every one of your habits and intricacies, able to tell whatever emotions were running through you at a simple glance, or when he would stop to admire the way you decided to style your hair differently or changed your look, thinking you seemed even more charming that day by the confidence you exude.

no, at that point, he’s sure it was painfully obvious. so obvious, in fact, that kaminari and mina had chosen to skip today’s group study session in favor of letting the two of you have your “alone time”. whatever that could mean.

shinsou had grimaced over their excuse of “being too busy that day” when you had told him the reasoning they gave you over text, despite knowing their next exam was only a couple days away. recalling just how nosy and enthusiastic they could get when involved in these kinds of affairs, he had an inkling of what exactly those two were planning. you, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to their schemes.

however, what did latch onto your mind was the thought of spending the day with only shinsou, in his very room, sitting across from each other with your textbooks open in front of you. though you should be more attentive to your studies, you couldn’t help the palpitations beating loudly in your chest and your wandering eyes that snuck glances at him after every question you answered.

unbeknownst to you, shinsou mirrored your actions all the same, reciprocating the flustered behavior, albeit a bit more subtly.

keep calm, hitoshi. why are you getting all worked up? he would say to himself, putting on his usual facade.

although he came off as relatively calm and collected on the outside, it’s difficult to keep his emotions in check when actions never lie.

that was especially true as he reached his hand out for the eraser you two were sharing between each other. with his eyes continuing to gander down at his notes, he hadn’t noticed that you were lunging for the same thing—not until your fingers had suddenly touched and you both pulled away at a speed equivalent to making contact with fire.

his stare unfaltering, shinsou was surprised to discern the embarrassed look on your face that immediately fixed itself as you rummaged through your pencil pouch. a second later, you pulled out another eraser, one that was notably smaller than the one you were sharing.

“um.. i’ll just use this,” you offered, and shinsou rubbed the back of his neck, the whole situation more awkward than it needed to be considering you never had any trouble sharing your supplies with each other before.

through some examination of your demeanor, shinsou had made a… bold enough claim, thinking that maybe—just maybe—you held the same kind of affections for him as he did for you.

it’s like he recalled earlier—actions never lie—and shinsou didn’t let the quiver of your lips or the intense concentration at your work to avoid meeting his gaze go past his head. that’s what spurred him to finally act on his desires.

without warning, he leaned forward on his seat to lay his hand over yours that caught your attention. you met his eyes, astonished to say the least, but more so concerned by how your eyes widened before you were about to open your mouth to ask him what was wrong.

the violet-haired male beats you to your words, voice resonating firmly, “y/n.”

you blinked. “y-yeah..?”

“i know this might be a bit late coming from me, but,” you could feel his hand tighten atop yours, “after exams, do you want to catch a movie together? just the two of us?”

shinsou fought the urge to look away, bashful at how he made his declaration for your time. the warmth surging under his skin was alleviated at the smile that slowly curled on your lips as you rotate your wrist, your palm touching his. the expression washing over your features told him you’ve been waiting for him to ask you this for a while now.

“i’d love to.”

AMAJIKI TAMAKI

ever a shy and introverted individual, tamaki has never had the heart to ask you out despite years of harboring a crush on you.

every time the thought had crossed his mind, he’d reason poorly with himself that you wouldn’t be interested in him in that way.

it didn’t help that his low self-esteem only deepened that thought that had now rooted itself in his brain.

at such a prestigious school like u.a., you were bound to find someone far more compelling than him—someone with guts, confidence, and great social skills. not a guy like him who conjures the image of potatoes at every anxiety-inducing encounter he comes across.

he was relieved enough to settle himself comfortably as just your friend—a title that allowed him to stay close and keep within your circle, all the while subjecting him to simply admiring you from afar.

but his eyes that held a hidden longing for more weren’t overlooked by a fellow student of his. or to be precise, the ever curious and free-spirited, hadou nejire.

always aware of his surroundings, it was hard not to notice that peculiar stare she’d aim at him during moments where he might’ve just finished speaking to you, or when you’d pass by and his head would naturally drift in your direction.

it was like she was picking apart every detail laid on him and it made tamaki absolutely restless.

tamaki’s suspicions and anxiety were later raised during one instance at the lunch table. he was at his usual seat next to his other big three companions, mirio and the aforementioned nejire, who was eyeing him with a gleam in her eye.

even with his self-consciousness, tamaki did his best not to pay any mind to the undesired attention and munched on his plate of takoyaki—the octopus nestled in the batter sure to come in handy later in training that day.

to his dismay, you passed by their table with your tray of food in hand, and nejire did not waste any time calling you over in that cheery tone of hers.

she invited you to sit down with them. you gave her invitation some thought before ultimately placing yourself in the free spot next to mirio, with nejire and tamaki already seated across from you.

the girl was all smiles and hums while tamaki was in a state of distress, both at his friend’s odd behavior, which was starting to spell trouble, to having you pulled into all of this. mirio was just being mirio, welcoming as always.

you greeted everyone at the table, making eye contact with mirio and nejire, but tamaki evaded your line of sight. he simply waved his reply without breaking away from his balls of takoyaki.

luckily for him, you didn’t give his lack of words much thought and started digging into your own lunch. it was then that nejire found it appropriate to start up a conversation.

“y’know, y/n, i’ve been meaning to ask you this, from one girl to another,” she mused, finger waving around playfully, “are you interested in anyone here?”

upon hearing her question, tamaki almost choked on his bonito flakes, his cheeks puffed and eyes blown. meanwhile, your chewing slowed as you gave your answer some thought.

“uh… well–”

“i’d say fujita from class d is quite the looker! think you’d be interested in them?”

after swallowing the food in his mouth, tamaki began to subconsciously listen in on the conversation. he paid close attention to your responses with bated breath, a small part of him anticipating your answer highly.

“fujita’s nice and all, but i don’t think we’d really get along as a couple.”

tamaki mentally sighed, relief evident all over his face. it was then that mirio had started fitting the pieces together after watching his close friend’s brow wrinkle throughout the entire exchange before finally relaxing at your words. crossing his eyes with nejire’s only confirmed his suspicions as the girl sent him a wink.

as a friend, mirio wasn’t about to let nejire’s operations fall flat. getting up from his seat, he motioned tamaki to come with him.

“i heard they have extra yakisoba bread right now! we should go check it out!” he said as a guise to give the other two time to themselves, free from tamaki’s prying ears.

unaware that mirio had caught on so quickly, tamaki didn’t object to tagging along with him. mostly because he thought of this as an opportunity to get some fresh air and calm his racing heart, finally feeling the effects of the blood rushing to his face.

with tamaki supposedly out of earshot, nejire was free to go about her questions however she wanted.

“okay then, if not fujita, then who? there has to be someone, right?” the girl scooted further in her seat out of pure curiosity. “tell me, is it perhaps someone in our class?”

it was your turn to be stricken by her boldness. you tried picking at your food, stuffing it into your mouth to avoid answering, but nejire’s tenacity outmatched you.

finishing your lunch, you opened your mouth to speak, “actually, the person i’m interested in is pretty close to you…”

nejire feigned ignorance, innocently placing a finger under her chin. “who? mirio?”

“ah no, it’s tamaki, alright?!” you ended up blurting, voice hushed but frantic.

bingo. hearing exactly what she wanted, nejire returned to her original position, a triumphant grin plastered on her lips. replaying what you said out loud in your head, you buried your warm face in your hands.

unbeknownst to you, tamaki had ended up hearing the whole exchange around the corner coming back to their table as mirio lightly snickered at his revelation of an expression.

the blond patted his shoulder. “go on then, you know what to do.” he threw tamaki an encouraging thumbs-up.

the boy gulped in response before inhaling a deep breath of air to prepare himself for what would arguably be the most important yet stress-inducing moment of his life so far.

noticing you getting up to discard your tray, tamaki—through a final push from mirio—went to make his move.

hearing him suddenly call out to you, you were caught off-guard. after admitting to your crush on tamaki to nejire, you felt your cheeks get hot just seeing his face right afterward.

“oh hey, did you get your hands on those yakisoba breads?” you scraped up a way to start the conversation.

“right... that… mirio managed to get the last one in the cafeteria,” he answered. then he brought his hand to rub his elbow, fidgeting in his spot as he found it difficult to look you in the eyes again.

“tamaki? something wrong? are you upset that he got the last yakisoba bread?”

he shook his head. “no, i… it’s just… i’ve been meaning to ask you this for a long time now, but never had the courage to say it to you because i didn’t think you ever liked me that way. but…” he finally mustered the determination to face you head-on. “would you go out with me, y/n?”

at first, you were speechless—absent of words as you relayed his request in your mind over and over again. then, your eyes softened, lips easing into a smile as you reached out for his hand.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

TODOROKI SHOUTO

it’s no surprise to many that when it came to asking someone out, todoroki didn’t exactly know the first thing to do.

mostly because he’s never asked anyone out to begin with.

you were the first person he’s ever felt these kinds of emotions for, and to be frank, he wasn’t sure what to make of everything that had been going through him when that root of infatuation had started to bloom inside him.

rather than sulk or contemplate on his thoughts for too long, he surmised it was best to simply come clean and ask for advice.

but when he confessed to what had been on his mind lately, he wasn’t expecting such a vigorous response from his friends.

“i’ve been thinking about asking y/n out.”

there was a layer of uncomfortable silence amongst the group before all hell eventually broke loose.

midoriya, uraraka, and iida immediately sprung from their seats in the common room, yelling “what?!” in unison. tsuyu and her frog-like mannerisms were more idle, but still surprised nonetheless.

todoroki was unfazed by their reactions, actually expecting it to go that way considering he’s never brought up any topics of that nature before. at the very least, he’s thankful he decided to say this when it was just the five of them. compared to what the whole class’s reaction would have been like, this was incredibly tame.

todoroki was used to always listening to what others had to say and never being the subject of the conversation when it came to dating.

but now things were different. he was openly admitting to them that he was regarding someone romantically. that he possibly sought a relationship with this someone—wanting to be committed to them and become the very best person he could be right next to them. to the four, this was coming completely out of left field.

after everyone simmered down and let the news sink in, the dual-haired boy resumed his thought,

“but i’m not sure how to do it.”

though the entirety of the group never had any experiences when it came to dating, they knew enough from media and pop culture to get an idea on how to help him. more than todoroki could imagine on his own anyway.

“i know! how about we go with the romantic and suave approach!” uraraka suggested. the rest asked her to elaborate.

“it’s simple! it starts by you leaving a note on her desk right before class, saying to meet you on the rooftop of the school! before the designated time, you should wait there for her with a bouquet of flowers, and then when she arrives, confess your feelings and ask her out!”

midoriya rubbed a finger against his cheek, skeptical. “i don’t think that sounds as simple as you’re making it out to be.”

tsuyu chimed in beside him. “those kinds of ideas usually only work well in books, ochako.”

pursing her lips, uraraka gave her plan a once-over, and realized it did seem a bit more involved and out of character than what todoroki was used to.

despite sharing a few more ideas with one another, they couldn’t narrow it down to any perfect one.

that was when iida clapped his hand, bringing everyone’s attention to him.

“alright, i think we’re starting to blow this whole ‘operation’ way out of proportion,” he said.

“if you’re honest about the way you feel about her and show it sincerely, i’m sure she’ll consider your feelings. you don’t have to do anything extravagant when it comes to asking someone out.”

listening throughout every word, todoroki nodded. meanwhile the other three were astonished that their class representative could be so whimsical when it came to romance, which in turn, iida was conflicted by. however, at the very least he was glad they could help out a friend. and so, todoroki went about his day with their discussion in mind.

he found that in many occurrences, whenever he crossed by you and thought of it as a chance to ask you out, there would always be someone to come in and take your time away. leaving him to stand there awkwardly before dismissing the fated question for later.

eventually, the sky dimmed and evening arrived, and by then, the whole class was already back at their dormitory and about to have dinner.

through some rather convenient circumstances, you two were actually assigned on kitchen duty that night.

“it’s been getting pretty cold lately so i was thinking we should cook up a hot pot for everyone.” you gave your idea to him as you pulled out some ingredients from the fridge, waiting for his reply, but it came a few seconds later than you were expecting.

“right. sounds like a good idea,” todoroki answered a tad late. upon realizing it was only going to be the two of you making dinner tonight, his mind was occupied by what he and his friends spoke about earlier.

that was when he started overthinking the situation and absentmindedly half-assed his work.

“todoroki, the cut on the tofu is slightly uneven.” you reviewed his cutting board. looking down, he saw the inconsistent slices of tofu limp in front of him. if bakugou were the executive chef for the evening, he would’ve had to hear an earful from him.

“sorry…” he apologized quietly, reaching out for another cube of tofu to cut.

“is everything okay? i know you’re still learning how to cook, but i’ve seen you show some significant improvement on your knife skills recently.” you voiced your concern for him.

the white and red-haired boy stared at the white bean curd while hearing your worried tone and couldn’t find it within himself to continue the task. it was now or never he thought. he laid the knife flat on the cutting board.

“actually, i wanted to ask you something.” he turned toward you. “do you… want to go out with me?”

nothing but the sound of the fire running on the stove could be heard in the kitchen. todoroki didn’t move his eyes away from you, watching you nearly drop the plate of siu choy and shiitake mushrooms out of shock as your mouth was hanging open.

when you caught onto your bearings, you let out a small laugh. “oh… i… wasn’t expecting that,” you admitted honestly, placing the ingredients on the counter safely.

the boy furrowed his brows. “is that a no?”

“n-no! i mean that isn’t my answer! i–” you fumbled with your words, cheeks warming up now that his confession had finally sunk in. in the meantime, todoroki found your reaction quite amusing. the corner of his lip quirked into a grin.

“what i mean to say is that yes, i’d love to go out with you.” you accepted the offer wholeheartedly. todoroki would be lying if his heart wasn’t throbbing from anticipation. he’s glad he’s able to rest and put that aside.

“now let’s continue making this hot pot together!” you cheered, smiling widely and he found comfort in your words before resuming slicing the tofu.

#bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha headcanons #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #tamaki x reader #todoroki x reader #mha x reader #bnha scenarios #mha headcanons #shinsou hitoshi x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha x y/n

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angryschnauzer · 3 years

Text

He’s A Keeper

Summary: Working as an artist hired by Durrell Zoo, you spend your days sketching the day to day life of the animals and the keepers. One keeper in particular catches your eye.

Pairing: AU Zookeeper Henry Cavill x Female Reader (no race or size mentioned)

Fandom: Henry Cavill

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Friends to Lovers, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Fingering, Safe Sex/Use of Condoms, Realistic Sex/Relationship discussion, Vaginal Sex.

Typo’s are allowed to run wild and free, only the finest organic free range fuck ups for me.

I do not operate a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites and hit ‘notifications’, you’ll get an alert every time i post something new. Back catalogue/masterlist can be found there and also on AO3

He’s A Keeper

Working the pencils over the sketchpad you quietly captured the beauty of the animals the zookeepers had nursed back to full health, the Ruffed Lemur currently hanging off the keepers arm as he spoke through the headset to the group of excited school children watching through the glass.

You’d been hired by the zoo to capture day to day life at the zoo throughout the summer season, drawing the animals and the humans, however there was one particular human you had found yourself drawn to numerous times, and that was the rather tasty zookeeper by the name of Henry. He also had one of the sexiest voices you’d ever had the pleasure to listen to, so as he explained about the Lemur’s your mind wandered, as did your gaze;

“... originally from Madagascar, and have been part of Durrell zoo since 1982 where they have been essential to the breeding program…”

Your mind fell even further into the gutter at the word ‘breeding’, your eyes raking down Henry’s body, taking in how the branded t-shirt clung to his chest before tapering down to a narrow waist where it was neatly tucked into cargo pants that did little to hide how thick his thighs were and a pert arse you could bounce a satsuma off of. Biting the end of the pencil you had all but given up drawing, only realising that the talk was over when the group of school children were being herded onto the next exhibit by their tour guide and teachers.

When the kids had disappeared you finally got back to drawing, watching as Henry finished up feeding the Lemur’s before he met your gaze and smiled at you. Tapping your pencil on the glass he frowned and shook his head, before smiling and pointing to the sign in the corner of the window that said ‘do not tap the glass’, getting closer you tried to mouth your words to him, but was surprised when his eyes went wide in almost shock, before looking down and realising you had pressed your chest to the glass, your low cut cami top helping to accentuate your cleavage. When you looked up again he was gone and you let out a sigh of disappointment, before he appeared through a door to the side of the viewing area;

“Hi” he had a smile that could charm the panties off a nun; “Did you want me?”

“God yes…” Oh fuck, did you say that out loud?; “Sorry, i mean, you’ve dropped the foam bit off your headset...”

He glanced into the enclosure just at the moment one of the larger Lemur’s picked up the small round piece of foam and staring straight at Henry, proceeded to rip it into tiny pieces.

“Furry little fucker…” he cursed under his breath before turning back to you, but before he could say anything a group of other keepers came walking in and soon you were hanging onto the periphery of their conversation where they were discussing going for drinks after work. Moving to pack your stuff up as you presumed they weren’t including you, but a call of your nickname drew your attention;

“Hey Da Vinci, you up for a few beers after work?”

You hesitated to answer, glancing at Henry who had a smile across his face and a hopeful look in his eye;

“We’re all going…”

“Ok, yeah sure, that’d be great” you agreed.

An hour later you were sitting on the wall outside the main entrance waiting for the rest of the keepers to finish their shifts, smiling as you saw them coming out of the doors, and the ensuing 10 minutes that followed as people sorted out who was driving and how many people could fit into just a couple of small cars. As spaces were allocated Henry laughed and shook his head;

“I am NOT riding five up in a Renault Clio, i’m too tall, i’ll have to fold myself in half! Where are we going anyway, i can take my bike and just walk home after”

Waiting as everyone discussed location and finished off seat allocation, they’d finally decided when Henry turned to you;

“Hey, i think the last seats are in the stoner wagon…”

“Oh…” you didn’t have anything against anyone smoking pot, but didn’t fancy being in a car you could barely see out of the windows of.

“But you can ride with me on my bike?”

Looking to where Henry was pointing, you saw a fairly large trails bike, the kind that could go 50mph over rough land and through forests;

“I… I don’t have a helmet…”

“Wait here, let me run into the locker room and grab the spare i keep here”

Everyone else pulled away as Henry ran into the zoo, and you glanced at the bike. You’d never been on a motorbike before, so this would be a first. Stowing everything loose in your backpack, you hooked it over both shoulders just as Henry reemerged from the building, swinging his keys from one finger as he came to stand in front of you;

“Hey, thanks for waiting”

“No worries! So, where are we going again?”

“The pub in Rozel does good food and pulls a great pint” he nodded to his left and you saw a row of motorbikes; “You ever ridden?”

Shaking your head you laughed; “No, never”

He carefully helped you put the helmet on, his nimble fingers helping to secure the strap beneath your chin before putting his own on and climbing onto the bike, pushing it off the kick stand and nodding for you to climb on. You tried to sit back, but he wrapped his arm behind his back and pulled you flush to his body;

“Gotta hold on tight, otherwise you’ll throw the balance off. Lean when i lean and just squeeze a bit harder if you’re scared, the ride won’t take long” he shouted over the thrum of the noisy engine idling.

The ride down to the small village of Rozel had been exhilarating, from the vibration of the motorbike between your legs to the way you were able to wrap your arms around Henry’s waist and cling to him as he hurtled around the country roads at what seemed like warp speed, when in fact it was little more than 30mph. By the time you arrived in the small fishing cove your heart was racing and you actually let out a reluctant moan at the thought of removing your arms from around Henry’s waist.

“C’mon” he grinned as he helped you off the bike; “I’ll buy you a vodka and coke to calm your nerves”

“It wasn’t nerves” you muttered to yourself, smirking as you know he heard you.

The group had managed to find a cluster of small tables chairs and benches in the corner of the pub beer garden, and as the sun had set behind the hills to the rear of the pub, the cold Atlantic sea had glowed in pale blues and pinks. You were squashed into a bench with Henry on one side and another enormous hulk of a keeper on the other, and as the temperature had dropped you’d found yourself thankful that Henry had casually rested his arm behind you so you could leech some of his warmth, but it didn’t stop a violent shiver involuntarily running up your spine.

“Cold?” Henry asked quietly, before gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close; “Any better?”

You nodded and let out a very quiet whine as you smiled at him, completely surrounded by his scent and warmth. It made your stomach do a flip and you clenched your thighs together, something that didn’t get past Henry as your leg twitched against his thigh. Before either of you could say anything an enormous bowl of cheesy fries was set down between you, your stomach growling at the aroma’s that wafted around you as it turned out someone had ordered sharing bowls for the whole table.

With the meal mostly devoured as you’d sat side by side on a small wooden bench in the pub garden, laughing as you fed each other and strings of cheese hung from your fingers. As the giggles of a joke faded away you glanced at Henry’s almost finished pint;

“Hey, you aren’t planning on riding that bike home are you?”

“Nah, i’d never drive after a pint, let alone three… my place is just behind The Navigator restaurant…” he paused; “Oh god, where are you staying, do i need to call you a taxi?”

“No no, i’m renting a studio up the hill, on the hairpin bend”

“Oh…”

It wasn’t a bad ‘oh’ and there was definitely something loaded in the subtext, so when people had started to leave and arrange ride’s back to St Helier and St Johns it felt natural for Henry to stand with his arm around your shoulders as you both waved everyone off.

“Can i walk you home?” he asked, his voice low and full of promise, and you nodded as he slid his hand into yours, leading you along the low coast road that skirted the harbour.

You hadn’t gotten far before the evening turned even better, a brief suggestion of a walk along the beach as the tide was out soon had your feet in soft sand as you were pressed to the weathered stone of the sea wall, Henry’s lips on your neck as your fingers dug into his back, his teeth nipping and biting at whatever exposed flesh he could find. You hadn’t even realised he was going lower until he was on his knees in front of you, those sea blue irises staring up at you as he pressed kisses to your legs where your shorts ended. His fingers softly rested on the button and he finally spoke, his voice low and thick with lust;

“May i?”

Nodding fervently you bit your lip as you watched him slowly unbutton you, pulling the garment down your legs until you were able to step out. Never breaking eye contact he lifted your leg and gently rested it on his shoulder, pressing open mouthed kisses up your inner thigh until his face was pressed against your panties and his wide tongue worked against the soaked cotton and lace. His finger crooked beneath them and tugged the scrap of fabric to the side, seeking out your clit before tracing down to your cunt and tenderly teasing the entrance.

“Henry… please…” you whined, desperate for more

“Don’t you worry, i’m gonna make you see stars…”

Pushing his head forwards his lips caught your clit as he slowly slid two fingers into your soaked channel. You let out a long groan at the feel of his lips and fingers finding the right spot immediately, his other hand cupping the back of your thigh before he ran it around your hip and caught your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he quickly drove you closer and closer to the edge with that added touch of intimacy. Suddenly he hummed against your clit and the world exploded, making you cum so hard you truly did see stars as a white heat bloomed in your belly and you rode Henry’s fingers until you were spent.

As you rested against the wall behind you he carefully withdrew his fingers, licking them clean as he tugged your shorts up your legs. You couldn’t help but to notice the obscene bulge in the front of his cargo pants, your hand rubbing over the smooth curve of it;

“You keep doing that and i’ll cum in my boxers… “ he panted out, his lips inches from yours; “What’s your room like?”

“Its a little summer cabin studio right at the end of the garden, away from the other holiday rentals and the main house… what about you…”

“Shared flat with two other guys from the zoo. They’re probably drinking in the lounge right now… so, your place?”

Unlocking the door you stepped inside and turned on a small lamp, standing aside so Henry could come into your small summer living space.

“Mmm nice” he nodded and looked around; “Wanna give me the tour?”

You snorted out a laugh at the formality, and held your arm out;

“Well this is the kitchen area, right next door we have the smallest shower room in Jersey, and here’s the bed” you didn’t need to take a single step for the ‘tour’, the room seeming even smaller as Henry took a single stride and wrapped his arm around your back, pulling you flush with his chest. Never breaking eye contact he gently trailed a single finger over your cheek, his thumb brushing your plump bottom lip;

“Are you going to be good for me?”

Your legs almost buckled at the deep baritone of his voice, igniting something within you that you hadn’t even known existed, eagerly nodding;

“Yes Sir”

Lowering his lips to yours he kissed you, his tongue pushing past your lips as he took control, walking the pair of you back until your legs hit the bed and you fell back onto the soft unmade covers. Covering your body with his, he quickly stripped you of your clothing, his mouth trailing behind his hands so every inch of you was gifted with a kiss.

Standing between your legs he pulled his t-shirt over his head and you couldn’t help but to moan at the sight of his body; toned and just the right amount of hair on his chest and a treasure trail on his abdomen that surely led to untold riches. Quickly sitting up your hands joined his on his button to his cargo pants;

“May i?”

Henry released his hands and nodded, watching as you carefully plucked the button before lowering the zipper painfully slowly, his boxers tented obscenely and you couldn’t help but to cup him in your palm, the searing heat of his engorged cock a welcome feel in your hands, the wide mushroom head clearly visible through the stretched fabric. Unceremoniously tugging the rest of his clothing down, you felt yourself getting wetter as his beautiful cock was finally revealed; big, thick and uncut, you had to taste him and quickly ducked your head forwards, swallowing his head between your lips as his hands flew to your hair to steady himself.

Now it was your turn to drive him crazy with your mouth, taking him as deep as you could even though it was barely half of his length, you wrapped both hands around what was left, the thick root of his shaft filling both palms. A few more pumps and he pulled his hips back with a gasp, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his bulbous tip;

“If you keep doing that i’m gonna cum far too soon…” he said, his voice shaking; “Lay back and let me treat you right…”

Scooting up the bed you settled against the pillows as you watched Henry shed himself of the rest of his clothing, his boots and socks hooked off, cargo pants and underwear all left in a messy pile at the side of the bed, before he crawled up the mattress like a Panther stalking its prey.

Capturing your lips for another searing kiss, you felt his hot shaft against your belly, burning against your skin and you so desperately wanted to feel him inside you. Pulling away just slightly you were already breathless;

“Just a second…” reaching for the small drawer at side of the bed you pulled out an unopened box of condoms, Henry sitting back on his knees as you ripped the box’s cellophane open with your teeth and pulled out a small foil packet, tearing it open before smoothing the latex over Henry’s shaft. Looking up to his face he wore a rather sheepish smile;

“Sorry, shoulda’ thought of that”

“S’ok, a girl’s gotta keep sharp these days…”

“Right…” he met your gaze; “But you know, if you had gotten pregnant, i would have stood by you”

“Umm thanks? But its for STD’s. I’m on the pill”

“Oh… good thinking…”

A tense pause hung over the pair of you, before you reached up and rested your hand on his chest;

“Shall we continue?”

At your words the tension in the room suddenly dissipated, Henry kissing you as he slid a hand between your bodies so he could position himself at your entrance, groaning as he pushed in slowly breaching your body. Your tight channel hugged him tight, unfamiliar with such a size splitting your walls so he paused, pressing light kisses to your face as your body grew accustomed with his size and the heavy weight of his dick in your pillowy soft embrace. Finally you moaned out his name;

“Henry… please…”

“What do you need?”

“Move… please move. Fuck me, please”

Pushing up on his forearms he started to fluidly move his hips, slow and steady, each thrust was gentle but firm, your body yielding to him as he started to increase the pace, the sound of hot bodies meeting filling the small wooden cabin as the gentle sounds of the sea not far away filled the rest of the night. Soft moans spilled from your lips at the feel of his body playing yours like a delicate instrument, waiting for the chorus and the inevitable crescendo. But he was going to play the entire symphony first, knowing how to get you to sing the high notes as the thrum of your bodies were in tune with each other completely.

With the stretch of his girth and the way the curve of it meant he was able to find your g-spot with every thrust you were fast approaching your orgasm, your body trembling as your lips found a life of their own;

“Henry… please, so good… keep doing that… oh god, i’m gonna cum…”

“That’s it, my good girl, cum on my cock, let me feel you squeezing me so tight… feel so amazing right now… that’s it, you can do it…”

With a cry you came, your legs wrapped around his waist as you pulled him deep whilst your body shook with a fierce orgasm, triggering his own as he pumped a heavy load into the condom.

Finally spent, Henry settled on top of you, his weight a heavy comfort as your sweaty bodies lay skin to skin, the gentle roughness of his chest hair against your naked breasts a tender reminder of his virility. When he started to soften he finally shifted, holding the condom at the base as he pulled out and staggered the few steps to your small bathroom;

“I’ll be back in a second, gotta sort this out…”

The door closed and you shifted on the bed, pulling the duvet back and sliding between the sheets, listening as you heard the tell tale sound of a man urinating and the high pitched, double barrelled squeak of a fart. The flush of the toilet and water running soon after meant you knew the second he would reappear, a flannel in his hand and he stopped dead, his cheeks suddenly bright crimson;

“You heard that didn’t you?”

“It's a small wooden cabin… yes i did”

“Sorry” he approached the bed and with a warm flannel he carefully cleaned between your thighs, pressing a kiss to your lips as he did. When finished he sat on the side of the bed; “Can i stay the night, or did you want me to go?”

“Have you got work tomorrow?”

“Nope. You?”

“Nope. Please, stay”

He quickly threw the flannel into the sink in the bathroom, before with a giggle climbed under the duvet and pulled you into his arms;

“So, how many more condom’s you got?”

The morning light broke softly through the trees that surrounded your cabin, your body sore but sated, knowing every bruise and ache came from soft lips, sharp teeth, or skilled fingers, apart from that one ache deep inside that you knew exactly what had caused that delicious soreness, and the owner and cause of all of it still softly slept in your bed. Climbing out you quickly used the bathroom, and as you came back into the room the artist in you couldn’t help but to admire how the dappled morning light cascaded over Henry’s body. Slipping his work t-shirt over your head you pulled your sketchbook from your backpack and settled onto the only chair in the room, quietly working carbon to paper.

Henry woke 45 minutes later, the gentle scratching of your art making him squint at the bright daylight, before laying back on the pillows with his arms spread;

“Still life class?”

Setting your sketchbook down you padded across the room and climbed onto the bed;

“Sorry, i couldn’t help myself… the way the sun was hitting the muscles of your back and shoulders, you were like an anatomy masterpiece”

With a laugh and moving much quicker than you thought he was possible of, he grabbed you by the waist and turned you, his body atop of yours;

“Well that’s enough of that, i would like to become better acquainted with your anatomy… and as we’ve both got the day off i suggest we make the most of it”

Laughing you fell into his embrace, sighing with happiness. Henry really was a keeper, as you were for sure not going to let him go.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you #henry cavill fanfiction

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jinmukangwrites · 2 years

Text

Dragged Away (7/7)

I cannot believe I've made an entire story out of a single one-shot prompt. Thank you everyone for reading this; I know it's not my most popular work, but those of you who love it REALLY love it and it makes me feel super happy to excited to share this story. Thank you @liccy again, for encouraging me and prompting me to make this more than a one-shot and providing the inspiration I often needed.

It was a lot of fun to write this final chapter, mostly because there's no prompts attached to it. It's just me tying together an ending from all the threads I've woven into the plot. There's still whump in this, so keep warnings and tags in mind, but it was a ton of fun to explore Hyrule's character and the lore of the entire franchise and end this in a way that felt satisfying.

I hope y'all enjoy this. This is a story that was never meant to exist, but I'm glad it does, and I'm so thankful for those of you who took this journey with me.

Warnings: blood, near death experiences, cult mentality, human sacrifices, hand waving and cheesing canon to fit my will

---

Night falls too quickly.

Like a guillotine cut from its rope, its sharp edge aimed right at Hyrule's lifespan as it descends.

They don't tell him what the Blood Moon is, or what it does, but as the sun fully sinks, Hyrule doesn't need to be told to understand.

The sky never falls to black. It goes dark, yes, but the deep, dark orange like the color of oil never brightens. Just… Intensifies. Red blooms in the horizon, like a distant town had just caught fire.

When the first curve of the mysterious, second moon shows its face over the horizon, Hyrule finds himself almost… enchanted with it. It's beautiful. Deep down, he knows that there's nothing innocent about that moon. He knows its creation. The story of its birth. The war. The death. The tragedy.

Yet, he still feels kinship with it.

He wonders if that bright, crimson red of its surface matches the color of his blood.

Commotion stirs within the camp of Yiga. Hyrule stiffens against his bindings and turns to look, terrified that his final moments have arrived, but what he finds isn't what he expects. In fact, even Sohgi looks startled as they fall to their knees with a fist against their chest in respect.

A newcomer has arrived. One the Yiga fear in the same way most monsters do when a bigger and meaner one arrives.

The newcomer walks into the camp like an omen, smoke billowing around their steps. They look no different than a normal Yiga soldier, but the reds and whites have been replaced with blacks and grays. The eye symbol on the mask, however, glows the same red as the light the moon above bathes them in.

All it takes is a single, shocked sounding, "Master Shadow!" from Sohgi for Hyrule to know exactly who this is.

The Shadow doesn't acknowledge the Yiga's groveling.

It heads right towards Hyrule, and bends. Hyrule can hardly breathe as ice cold fingers press below his chin. The smoke around the figure whirls, and soon Hyrule finds his chin tugged up to look at a warped, familiar version of his own face.

"You," Hyrule forces out between his teeth.

The Shadow smiles in a way that makes Hyrule desperately hope that his own has never matched.

"Has this been your plan all along?" Hyrule demands, his voice shaking. He doesn't know if it's out of anger… or terror. "You tore good people from their homes and families for this?"

"Don't think yourself so important," the dark, grayed version of himself says with silky amusement. "This is merely a satisfying stepping stone in my plans."

The Shadow turns to the Yiga soldiers, form flickering like it doesn't know who's image to make a mockery of. In the end, the shape solidifies back to Hyrule's own. Its grin is sharp as it finally speaks to the crowd.

"The Blood Moon will soon reach its apex. Once our king returns, then you will receive the power I promised you."

The Yiga soldiers cheer, and Sohgi steps forward to cut the ropes around Hyrule's chest. Hyrule's roughly tugged to his feet, and under the light of his future fate, he's shoved forward towards his demise.

-o-o-o-o-

Through the back exit of the Yiga hideout, and north of the Kuh Takkar Shrine, is a snow covered canyon carved between the Gerudo Highlands that leads towards the Ridgeland. Wild leads them there on hurried footsteps, the Gerudo Captain and her guard accompanying them for extra arms.

Judging by the color of the night sky, Hino predicted the night of the Blood Moon correctly. Wild's stomach churns.

They're still so far away from where the Yiga and Hyrule have reportedly been spotted, and the snow isn't helping their progress. The Blood Moon rises and sets quickly, all within the timeframe of 11pm one night, and 1am the next morning. The peak will be at midnight. That's when all the monsters will revive.

"We have to hurry," comes out of Legend's mouth before Wild can say the same thing. "We're going too slow."

There's tight lines to his features, making him look more worried than what Wild's sure he's ever seen him.

"The snow isn't helping," Warriors grunts under Wind's weight. The kid looks angry and embarrassed to be carried, but his small stature only slowed them down further. It only helped his ego a little when Time became burdened with Four's weight as well. "How much time do we have, Champion?"

The Gerudo Captain is who answers, her chin pointed to the sky, despite the question being asked to Wild. He doesn't mind. His stress is through the roof, and when that happens it's usually harder to find words to speak with.

"Fifteen minutes. At most."

Legend swears, and trudges on further while pulling out his fire staff to melt the snow before them.

Even then, they won't make it in time.

With numb fingers, Wild grabs at his Sheikah Slate. If they continue as they are, they will be doomed to reach too late. But… Wild has options.

"You said they're on Washa's Bluff?" He confirms with the Captain.

She nods.

He turns towards his friends. "There's a shrine there. We're in my time… I should be able to teleport there with my slate."

"Absolutely not," Twilight growls, shoving forward. The red in the sky reflects angrily against his eyes. "You go there alone, you'll be killed."

Legend shouts back that they don't have any other options, and an argument breaks out as Sky rushes to defend Legend's point.

Wild bites the inside of his cheek and goes to option two.

He presses on a button and aims his slate. In a flash of light, his motorcycle appears seemingly out of thin air. The other's stop mid argument to gawk.

"If you hold on tight, I can take one more person with me," Wild says, already jumping on the cycle.

Legend steps forward, but Twilight stops him. "You need to stay with the others and help clear the path," he says with a pointed glance at the firerod.

Legend looks about ready to explode, but Wild speaks up.

"Once you get a little further up, you should be able to sled down on your shields to catch up."

Time nods. "Keep safe. We don't know what the Yiga are planning. Don't do anything stupid."

Wild returns the nod, forcing himself to ignore Legend's upset face as Twilight hops onto the cycle and grabs onto Wild's shoulder. Before guilt can win over for leaving Legend behind, he revvs the engine, and speeds forward. Twilight shouts a swear, but holds on tightly as they launch forward.

Traveling is faster then, but they're still a long way away from Hyrule.

He can only pray that they'll make it in time.

-o-o-o-o-

He's shoved into a strange platform at the base of the trees. With his hands tied, even in front of him, it's impossible to completely stop his fall. The platform feels like a mixture of stone and metal, but hums with a strange warmth.

The blue lights that circle on the surface of the platform flickers, erupting into deep red the second he lands in the center of them. He doesn't have a chance to recover, nor study the platform further, before a hand wraps in his hair and tugs him to his knees.

He yelps, lifting his hands to grab at the one in his hair, but the grasp remains firm. However, before he can really struggle, the sharp blade of a scythe circles around his neck.

Sohgi, it seems, has the honor of completing the ritual.

"Any minute now," Sohgi says, his breath coming out in quick, excited puffs.

Hyrule looks to the sky, and he sees that it truly will be any minute now.

He grinds his teeth. He can't let this just happen. It seems that no matter how often he finds himself giving up, the fight never truly leaves him.

They're going to spill his blood here, and if they don't here, then it will happen in his future regardless. What does he have to lose?

Nothing.

He has nothing to lose.

He screams, bucking back into Sohgi's gut. The Yiga's breath gets knocked out of him in surprise, and the grasp in his hair and the scythe loosen just enough for him to struggle free.

Sohgi clearly didn't expect Hyrule to fight back. It's almost laughably easy for Hyrule to twist the scythe out of their hands and into his own. With a spin, Hyrule's hands are freed and he's struggling shakily to his feet. He holds the scythe out before him, aware that he's surrounded by dozens of blades, but he aims his own at the Shadow.

The red of the podium glints off of Hyrule's weapon, and the Blood Moon's light flickers dangerously above.

"Do you really want to do this, little hero?" The Shadow asks, stepping forward and summoning a copy of Hyrule's blade into its grasp.

"I've defeated you before."

"You're only going to fail miserably. Your final moments of freedom will be nothing but embarrassment."

Hyrule strengthens his stance in answer.

"So be it," the Shadow hisses, before launching forward.

-o-o-o-o-

Wild skids to a stop at the edge of a massive cliff; the final cliff that separates the Highlands from the rest of the country. He can see Washa's Bluff… just on the other side of a final, massive canyon.

"We won't make it," Twilight breathes, looking up at the sky.

Wild curses, searching the lands for anything that can promise an early arrival.

Yet everything is colored in blood, and he knows that even if he had one of the great dragons themselves to fly them, they would not make it.

He pulls out his slate and opens the magnifying option. He points it at the bluff, and sure enough, he finds a group of Yiga gathered around the shrine.

Twilight's breath sharpens besides him.

"Hyrule," he gasps, pointing at the magnified image of the slate.

And there he is. Hyrule. In the center of his captors, fighting with a figure bathed in darkness.

They're still too far away to tell for sure, but it doesn't look like Hyrule's in any shape to win.

"What do we do?" Twilight asks, panic lacing his usually calm voice.

Hyrule ducks under a swinging blow from his opponent, but the enemy is quicker and stronger. With a few accurately placed blows, Wild and Twilight find themselves helpless to do anything as Hyrule goes down hard and doesn't get back up.

"HYRULE!" Twilight screams as the dark figure drags the limp body towards the podium and lifts his head. A blade is brought to his throat, just as the Blood Moon finally reached its highest point.

Wild doesn't think after that. He tugs the slate out of Twilight's shared grasp and opens the map option. Before Twilight can do a thing, he's already dissolving into a stream of light.

-o-o-o-o-

The pain hits before Hyrule's again shoved into the center of the podium. He's choking. He's failed.

His ears ring, and he coughs up blood, the specks joining in with the growing puddle that's leaked from his neck.

He- he's dying.

No no no no. They said they weren't going to kill him- Ganon needs a living body to take over- no- he should be glad he's dying, if he dies then this whole thing fails and Ganon won't return and he won't be the cause of more destruction on this land and-

The growing puddle of blood bubbles under the moonlight, turning it a sickening magenta. The color of malice. It swirls, changing as it leaves his neck. The blood converts to malice quicker, and reaches closer and closer to his neck wound.

He chokes a sob, summoning all the strength he has left to scramble to his knees and grab as his torn neck. He can't let the malice touch the wound. He can't let it change inside of him.

Pathetic, a voice says, seemingly right in his skull.

And there's the sound of thunder. The hairs at the back of his neck rise with the sudden burst of electricity. There's shouts of Yiga behind him, but he doesn't pay attention, he just continues to cover his wound with every inch of strength and determination that he has left.

He blinks. There's hands on his shoulders and a face in front of him. Shouting at him. The red of the moonlight is suddenly dimmer as it's blocked by a strange orange barrier.

Wild. It's Wild's face shouting at him to take a health potion.

Distrust rears its head, right next to flaring anger. He had no idea he could still feel such emotions while kneeling on the ground and bleeding from his neck. He's terrified. Hurt. Desperate. He had no idea he could fit two more such strong emotions within his tortured soul.

Yet he does.

He tries to scramble back from the form of his friend, still clutching his neck and gasping. The wound isn't as deep as it could be, but it's still leaking blood despite him pressing so hard against the wound he can barely breathe.

Understanding flashes on Wild's face. "No- Rulie, I promise it's me. We don't have time- I have no idea how long Daruk can hold this shield..."

Rulie. Something no one else besides his new friends have ever called him. An affectionate thing, only said in rare, peaceful and friendly conversation. Hope feels like a poisonous thing, but he glances to the side to make sure. Through the strange orange and opaque shield, Hyrule can see each and every Yiga on the ground, groaning and slowly standing with singe marks on their uniforms. Sohgi is among them, the first up, and he's aiming a bow.

In the center of them, the Shadow's form flickers, slowly repairing from whatever attack it had been hit with along with the others.

It's Wild. It has to be.

He opens his lips and Wild shoves a health potion into his mouth. An arrow crashes against the shield beside them and bounces off harmlessly. Wild looks surprised by the lack of effect, but he doesn't stop pouring the potion until it's gone.

It's not surprising that everything—every single wound he's sustained since his capture—heals... except the wound in his neck.

Wild swears.

They are surrounded now by their recovered enemies, each throwing arrows and scythes against the field and shouting angrily. Hyrule's blood still flows, and the malice still creeps ever closer to the wound.

Finally, the Shadow has recovered enough to slam against the shield, form copying that of a Lynel from Wild's own time. It holds a club. The blow makes the shield shatter for a moment, and Wild struggles to his feet to throw his hands up and summon another before another blow falls. There's sweat on his brow.

"I'm- I don't know what to do," Wild rambles. "I thought I lost the champion's powers after I defeated Calamity Ganon- and they're stronger than I remember- if I put the shield down, I might be able to use Urbosa's Fury against them again but-"

Hyrule tunes it out, because he can feel something at the back of his bloodied hand. There, glowing brightly, are three golden triangles. Whatever these abilities Wild's using are... the Triforce is helping him. It's helping him when Hyrule has been humiliated and tortured for a week. Wild notices the glowing, and turns his head to see the Triforce in its entirety. As far as Hyrule knew, Wild has never possessed the Triforce, not even a single shard, but the recognition looks like a slap on his face.

"He has the Triforce!" The Shadow shouts to the Yiga. "Break this blasted barrier! We cannot let the Wild One ruin this! Our King will award us greatly!"

And it's then, Hyrule knows what to do.

"W-" he gasps, transferring his left hand to cover the entirety of his neck so he can hold out the hand that had held the Triforce for so long. "Wild- you- you need to take this."

"What?" Wild says stupidly, his focus wavering and the shield flickering. The Shadow crashes against the barrier, and Wild has to bring it up a third time once it shatters.

Hyrule can't breathe. His blood is leaking persistently and it takes all the energy he has to summon the Triforce out from its resting place. He crumples slightly, just barely managing to keep himself upright. Wild looks like he'd like nothing more than to run forward and support him.

"They're... they're reviving Ganon. Once this malice... once it... He will be me. He can't- he can't have this. You need to take it, then you need to kill him. Me."

"Hyrule, you're insane-"

Tears warm Hyrule's eyes. "It's the only... only way..."

"I'm not going to kill you."

"Then- then take it anyways- and use it to defeat me. It's responding to you- you can use it to wish him away- or seal us- just take it please I dont- I don't deserve it anymore- it calls you-"

"Don't you fucking dare take that Triforce, Champion," a new, muffled voice shouts, "and Rulie I better never hear you say you don't deserve the Triforce ever again."

With one hand, Wild lifts his magic slate, and Legend's face is on the other side. He must have been listening in through Wind's necklace.

"If you take that Triforce, Wild, there's a good chance it will shatter, and you'll only keep one piece of it. We'll have to search for the rest of it. Hyrule, I don't know what's going on completely, but you're worthy of the Triforce. It's you who has to use it to fight this stupid ritual."

If Hyrule wasn't so terrified that he'd lose grip on his neck, he'd shake his head. "-can't. I- I don't know how much... control I'll have..."

"You have to try." Legend's words are spoken so sure, so full of trust, it feels like a punch to the gut. "The Triforce entrusted you to protect it. Do you fucking job and protect it. Stop doubting yourself and see yourself how we all see you; a hero."

Hyrule lets out a broken sob, allowing the Triforce to return to the back of his hand. Wild looks convinced. Determined.

"Fight it as long as you can," he says. "I'll protect you. No matter what happens next."

And just like that, Wild lets down the shield and snaps a hand above his head. For the second time, he releases a massive reign of lightning, blowing every enemy away from the podium. He then charges towards the Shadow, screaming. Many Yiga do not return to their feet, and the ones that do attempt to get to Hyrule, only to be blown away by Wild's fierce attacks.

Wild's taking on an army... all on his own.

And Hyrule finally collapses. He brings both hands to his neck and squeezes his eyes shut. He can feel the Triforce humming within him. Practically singing. It's brimming with Power. Courage. Wisdom. Doing everything it can on its own to give Wild the strength he needs to protect it. To protect Hyrule.

I better never hear you say you don't deserve the Triforce ever again.

Stop doubting yourself and see yourself how we all see you; a hero.

Maybe Hyrule doesn't see himself as a hero. Maybe he doesn't deserve it. But Legend... Legend believes in him.

It has to be enough.

He watches as the malice finally crawls to his bloodied hands. It burns like magma- like the sparks that fly from Four's blacksmithing. There's nothing he can do... even as it finally enters him, and a frighteningly familiar beast-like voice laughs in triumph within him.

Everything goes black.

-o-o-o-o-

Wild catches the sight of Hyrule falling limp out of the corner of his eye. It almost distracts him enough to mis-time his next dodge as the Shadow Lynel swings at him. The sight of one of his friends falling still like that... it makes his stomach squirm.

But there's a light shining still at the back of his hand. Wild has to hope that the Triforce, whatever the relic truly is, is helping him the same as it's helping Wild.

A Yiga soldier runs at him with their weapon outstretched. Wild shoots them with an arrow before they can make the full distance, already back to focusing on the biggest enemy.

Hyrule's got this. Wild just has to protect him until the others can arrive to help.

-o-o-o-o-

Hyrule opens his eyes to darkness, but he's no longer in any pain. Slowly, he pushes himself to his feet; his eyes locking onto the back of his hand which glows bright enough to light his surroundings.

He's in a dungeon room. A familiar one.

It's the very same room where he killed Ganon in the first time.

A voice chuckles, followed by a form stepping into the light.

It's Ganon. Hyrule has no doubt. Even if he looks a little different.

Hyrule and the others knew that Wild's era combines the fractured strings of the timeline, so really, it's not surprising that this form of Ganon before him isn't fully the beast he remembers. He's also a man... a Gerudo that his legends have told of. Tall, dark, powerful. Red hair flowing back in braids and beads. A powerful sword at his side. He'd almost look handsome if it weren't for the snout and the hoofed legs.

"Finally," Ganon growls, "out of all those heroes, you're the one I wanted to make suffer the most."

He says heroes like it's something disgusting stuck to the bottom of his boots.

Hyrule pulls out a sword on instinct, only just noticing that he's fully equipped and dressed with his strongest, most valuable items. There's a golden hue around him... which causes his heart to squeeze. The Triforce... it is creating this for him. This final chance. He doesn't know what's changed from the beginning of his captivity until now for it to finally deem him worthy of its assistance, but he won't look a gift-goddess in the mouth.

Ganon, however, laughs; even despite being confronted with the very sword that killed him the first time.

"You're out of your league, brat," he sneers, "I have era's of experience on you."

"All of them you've lost in," Hyrule replies, hoping his voice doesn't shake. "You've only won once, against a child, and I beat you during your prime."

Ganon snarls. Perhaps, while Hyrule is the one he wants to make suffer the most... there's another hero whom he hates the most.

Time really is awesome.

"Enough! I'm going to tear you to shreds... until you're just barely still breathing. I'll rip the Triforce out from you, and I'll use it to destroy everything you and the other pathetic children love so dearly. You'll be trapped here... and I'll force you to watch every single life I end, and you'll feel their blood on your hands."

Hyrule readies his blade.

"You'll fail."

He's shocked by how sure he sounds when he says it.

-o-o-o-o-

Wild has only ever seen the Triforce once in his life. His memory is still fractured, but even in those final moments of his past self, he feels like he doesn't need his entire memory to know something like that is important. He's seen its likeness carved into the ruins of his land; has vague memories of people talking reverently about it. He's been meaning to ask Impa or Zelda or the other Links about it, but it kept slipping his mind.

And even then, Zelda is the only person he's ever seen hold the entirety of the Triforce. Some of the other Links... hold a single piece of it. Maybe that's what Legend meant that it could shatter.

Regardless. Its origin and its abilities don't matter to him right now. He doesn't need to know the specifics. All that he cares about is that it's enhancing his abilities, and allowing him to once again access the gifts his past friends left him even after he thought he lost them in the aftermath of his final battle with the Calamity.

He's yet to lose his energy.

It's almost laughably easy to take down each of the Yiga soldiers with this power. They're normally quite simple to take down on their own in a regular duel, but as a group they can get confusing and difficult. Not now, however. His eyes are sharp as he aims his arrows at them, falling them with elementally-laced arrowheads, even as he jumps out of the Shadow's latest wild and frantic attacks.

Eventually, only the mock Lynel remains as his lone opponent under the high and bright light of the demon's moon.

Scratches litter Wild's body, wounds received only by the Shadow. Wounds that will not heal, even with Mipha's enhanced Grace. Hyrule's neck has stopped bleeding, and he can only hope that his own wounds will do the same soon enough.

For now? It's nothing that will kill him. In fact, the sting makes him feel alive.

The Shadow snarls, knowing it's alone in this battle now, and flickers. In a blink of an eye, Wild finds himself looking... at himself. It's almost like looking in the mirror, if his eyes had turned red and his skin painted dark gray.

Wild has no idea how Kilton managed to nail that costume so closely on the head.

"So you've realized you're facing the only enemy stronger than that Lynel?" Wild mocks, grinning sharply.

"I've been nothing more than a test for you heroes for longer than you can imagine. My very existence was created to not only copy you, but being light to your every weakness and fear. You know how to fight the largest of beasts, but tell me, how well do you know yourself?"

Wild smirks. "Pretty well, all things considered."

Copied blades smash against each other, sending sparks and signaling the end of banter. The only sounds leaving their lips soon become grunts and huffs of breath as they battle, matching each other move for move.

The battle is difficult. More difficult than Calamity Ganon, Wild could say. Yet, he's faced worse. Thank the goddesses that Thunderblight isn't the evil trapped in reincarnation with his spirit.

Soon enough, the Shadow realizes that it's going to lose. It can tear Wild apart, but it will still lose before a killing blow can be made. It tries to retreat, cursing all kinds of swears from all kinds of eras, but Wild doesn't give it a chance to coward away. He bashes his shield against its face, sending it snarling and crashing to the ground. It scrambles to its knees and elbows, but doesn't rise further as Wild lays the sharp edge of his blade against the back of its neck.

"If I kill you here," he says, "will the others return to their homes? Their families?"

The Shadow laughs, lifting its face to glare at Wild as Wild gives it just enough room to.

It opens its mouth to speak, but pauses. Its eyes dart to something behind Wild.

Before Wild can even react, agony rips through his back and stomach. Copper rises to his throat, and when he looks down, he's not shocked to find a jagged, black sword-tip sticking out from his torn tunic.

He spits blood, and the pain makes his knees crumble. He would have fallen on top of the Shadow if the creature hadn't scrambled away to bow deeply to Wild's attacker. The sword is fully ripped from his stomach, and he sees stars and coughs violently as he fully collapses. A boot digs under his side, and with a more powerful kick than what could possibly come from its small size; Wild is shoved to lie on his back.

Hyrule stands above him.

But it's not Hyrule. There's markings on his face, black swirls around his jaw and hairline. An X shaped scar stretching in the center of his forehead. In his hands is a blade the color of nightmares; a warped, mockery version of the Master Sword. The Triforce at the back of his hand glows red, matching the Blood Moon.

A mad grin splits Hyrule's face. One that looks so wrong there.

It's Hyrule's body, but the real Hyrule would never, ever, look so cruel.

"G-Ganon," Wild grunts, weakly bringing a hand to his shredded stomach.

The monster possessing his friend laughs. "That is my mortal name, yes."

It's his voice. Hyrule's. It makes him feel sicker than what the hole in his stomach could ever do.

He coughs blood. His vision clouds, becoming almost nothing more than Hyrule surrounded by a haze of red sky. Mipha's healing does nothing. She does not appear.

He can't feel the Triforce's power.

Ganon leans down, sneering. "I've told you, human. My hate will never perish."

Wild gets the feeling that he wasn't saying that to Wild, but to the soul inside of him. The hero's soul.

Whatever the case, Ganon stands up and regards down at him like Wild is nothing more than a bug to squish.

"You were lucky, brat," he growls, "you've faced me in my weakest form. If I were in a proper body, you never would have prevailed. Now, you have the honor of becoming the second hero to die by my hand. The second, of many to come."

Wild has no idea if that means Hyrule is dead in there or if he's killed a hero before in the past. He desperately hopes it's the latter as Hyrule's arms lift that cursed blade up. Legend and Hyrule came from a time where the hero before them failed right? Maybe failed means killed?

He hopes Hyrule still lives, because if he does, then that means they have a chance regardless of Wild's death here.

His heart pounds and he closes his eyes, awaiting for the finishing blow.

-o-o-o-o-

With a battle cry, the fight begins.

And maybe it's because Hyrule feels more rested than he has since his capture... or maybe it's the power of the Triforce itself, but he fluidly ducks under the swinging blade. He thrusts up with his own blade, nicking his enemy in the side and forcing them to separate. Before Ganon can recover, Hyrule casts his Shield spell. The magic flows freely, and pure. It feels good to cast magic again.

And thus, the battle continues.

The longer it fights, the stronger he feels. The more sure.

See yourself how we all see you.

Maybe that's what changed. Maybe his disconnection with the Triforce has always been that. He doesn't remember the last time he considered himself anything more than a fuck-up playing pretend. He always wondered why Impa trusted him of all travelers to save the kingdom. Why that old man saw fit to give Hyrule that sword in that cave. He didn't think about it at the time... he couldn't allow himself to. There was a job to be done, and as far as he knew, he was the only one that could do it.

He killed Ganon. The Demon King who had terrorized the lands for ages... persisted through every attempt to slay him. Hyrule did that. He was the first to do that.

He will do that again. He has to.

Once again, he's the only one that can. It's his purpose, to fight when hope is lost. How many times has he been brought down to his lowest... just to stand back up again this week alone?

He will do that again.

And he will continue to do it, as many times as required, because the Triforce trusted him to keep it safe, and he's been insulting it over and over for thinking himself unworthy.

Ganon breaks Hyrule's guard and slices across his chest. Hyrule goes down, but he calls upon the Triforce to replenish his magic... allowing him to heal himself and cast Thunder.

It continues.

It contiues.

And Hyrule's winning. Ganon is tiring out. The Triforce continues to supply Hyrule with all the power that he needs to whittle down the demon more and more until finally... finally... Hyrule brings him down to his knees.

"This ends here," Hyrule says.

Ganon laughs the same way any tyrant would laugh with a sword pointed at his skull. "You're pathetic. You know I'm tied to you, and this will do nothing but deley my inevitable and glorious return-"

Hyrule swings the blade, removing his head from his shoulders.

As his lifeless body falls to the ground, Hyrule breathes, blinking as the Triforce sings proudly within him and his adrenaline falls.

He will stop evil as many times as it takes.

And when the inevitable eventually does come... he knows those who inherit his soul will continue his will.

-o-o-o-o-

When Hyrule blinks his eyes open, the sky is no longer red... and Legend is there.

There's a sword in Hyrule's hands. One in Legend's. They're crossed.

Twilight is below them, cradling and protecting Wild with his own body... like... like Hyrule was about to...

Blood dribbles out the corners of Wild's mouth. Puddles on the dirt below him.

Hyrule drops the sword, and hardly pays attention as it dissolves into thin air the second it hits the ground. All he can focus on is his urgency to reach his friend.

Legend goes to stop him, but lets him through the second he looks into Hyrule's eyes and recognizes something. Legend helps pry Twilight away from Wild's limp form, and they stand back as Hyrule puts his hands on the gruesome wound and asks the Triforce for one last favor. He has the feeling this wound won't heal with potions or fairies.

The Triforce listens; it burns bright at the back of his hand, more golden and powerful than the sun.

The wound heals, and color returns to Wild's face. He looks exhausted, but before he succumbs to a peaceful and triumphant sleep, he lifts a hand to grasp Hyrule's arm. Hyrule meets his eyes, and Wild smiles. His eyes slip shut. Twilight rushes forward to gather Wild into his arms.

"Hyrule," Legend asks, stepping forward and placing a hand on Hyrule's shoulder.

Hyrule leans into the touch, and stands to face him. Legend checks him over, his hands never leaving his shoulders. After a minute, Legend sighs in relief and tugs Hyrule forward into a strong embrace.

It's so strong. Warm. Protective. Relieved. Hyrule grasps him back and buries his face into Legend's shoulder with wet eyes.

Judging by the cold in Hyrule's hair as Legend presses his face to the top of his head... there are more eyes than one pair that are wet.

"I'm chalking that up to traumatic adventure number three," Hyrule mutters into Legend's tunic. "I'm catching up."

Legend gives a wet laugh.

-o-o-o-o-

Apparently, Legend arrived so quickly because of his pegasus boots. Hyrule's not sure how Twilight matched that speed, but Hyrule can't bring himself to really care about the small details.

Hyrule had been possessed by Ganon, and was about to kill Wild. The Shadow got away the second it noticed Ganon had lost. Twilight and Legend restrained each Yiga soldier left behind, unconscious, while Hyrule sat with a groggy but awake Wild until the sun rose and the rest of the group arrived.

Hyrule, to this day, doesn't know how he feels about touch. He feels like he's constantly walking a fine line between touch-starved and the brink of a sensory overload... yet every hug and shoulder squeeze he received from the others with the reunion brought tears back into Hyrule's eyes. They don't ask about the details of his captivity, nor the ritual, but Hyrule knows that if he ever feels like he needs to talk to someone, every single one of them would listen with kind and sympathetic ears.

Once Wild recovers enough strength to stand up, it's wordlessly decided amongst the group that it's time to get as far away from these hills as possible. Hyrule itches to leave and never return.

Yet, before they can go, he approached the Gerudo Captain and her warriors. They've taken custody of the Yiga, but Hyrule wants this last thread tied before he leaves this all behind.

"What do you do with Yiga prisoners?" He asks.

The Gerudo Captain frowns, gives Wild a glance, then sighs. "We keep them out of trouble, and with the help of Queen Zelda's resources, we try to rehabilitate them and return them to life outside of their cult."

Wild steps up next to Hyrule and places a hand on Hyrule's shoulder.

"What they've done to you is... inexcusable," he says. "If you wish for... any kind of specific punishments... none of us will argue. You have every right to decide what to do with them. We will all understand."

Hyrule breathes. He then walks towards a specific prisoner who's at the front of the group, their hands bound in front and leashed to a Gerudo's soldier's belt. Before he can change his mind, he reaches forward and wraps his fingers around the base of the mask.

Sohgi doesn't move a muscle as Hyrule reveals their very human face.

Hyrule should be angry. Pissed. Vengeful as hell. No one would try to convince him otherwise if he were to say his captors deserved torture and pain and eventually a slow death.

Hell, they might even be happy to carry out his vengeance.

A human. The human stares at him with understanding and an acceptance of whatever fate Hyrule gives them.

Hyrule's not a monster. He's angry. But he's not a monster.

"Do what your laws suggest," Hyrule says and drops the mask to the ground.

He takes a deep breath. Memorizes Sohgi's features. Then he turns away.

"Just make sure I never see them again."

-o-o-o-o-

A month passes. Somehow, things return to normal. The Triforce stays quiet in his hand, but no longer like it's ignoring him... it's more like it trusts him to take care of things again without its help. He's determined to prove it correct.

He still gets nightmares, however.

He'll wake up in the dead of night, fearing the shadows behind the trees, sometimes screaming.

But the others are there always, protective but never condescending. They chase the nightmares away and help him remember that he's one of them and will always be one of them.

And he knows that he's worthy of his title of hero, and worthy of their friendship.

He cherishes that knowledge like it's the most precious thing. He will never forget it or doubt it again.

#linked universe #linked universe hyrule #jin writes #whump #blood tw #read warnings #fanfiction

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floresmarique · 3 years

Text

Here is a lil Daniel one shot for all my LaRusso girls ♡

SECRET CRUSH(DANIEL LARUSSO X FEM!READER)

Plot; You are one of Ali's best friends, hiding a secret: having a big crush on Daniel, the one boy she is dating. But what will happen when Daniel asks you to help him with Ali?

WARNING: A tiny bit of a smutty situation.

Tags; 'cheating' in a certain sense, dry humping, Daniel being VERY bold, seductive reader, some angst, fluff.

Also, they are still in high school just for the sake of the plot.

Enjoy!

There he was again, Daniel LaRusso.

He was talking to Ali, as always. She was laughing, resting her back against the school's wall. Daniel had one arm beside her head, the other hand was on his hip and he had a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

And then there was (Y/N).

She was admiring the scene from afar, a sad sigh leaving her mouth while she held her books tight to her chest. Since she saw Daniel that first day on the beach, she couldn't take her eyes off of him. She thought he looked so gorgeous with those dark locks of his and his chestnut eyes. His skin looked tanned and his body was slim, more skinny than muscular.

But, of course, he had his eyes for Ali since the beginning. (Y/N) wasn't surprised about it but she was dying of jealousy. She wasn't the classic ugly duck best friend, in fact, (Y/N) was considered one of the hottest girls at school along with Ali. A lot of boys desired her and before Johnny Lawrence even got with Ali, he first flirted with (Y/N) but she always refused him so Ali was kinda the second option.

(Y/N) didn't feel insecure about herself because she had a very high self-esteem. She always took care of herself, always had a good smell and beautiful soft hair and her body always turned a lot of heads. She had an amazing sense of style, even better than Ali if you asked her.

But (Y/N) wasn't just looks; she had a beautiful personality too, always sweet and humble. She never liked to get involved in drama, it was a waste of time in her opinion. Her sense of humour always cracked up even the most silent kid. She also had a very sassy attitude and wasn't scared to bite if someone tried to provoke her or the people she cared about since she was very protective and people knew that it was better not to mess with her.

"Ali, we should get to class." After stopping envying her best friend's relationship with Daniel, (Y/N) finally walked towards the both of them and said the first thing to make them separate. She knew that their relationship still would exist but she felt an aching pain in her chest whenever she saw them talking and laughing together.

Ali sighed and nodded, kissing Daniel's cheek and then whispered something in his ear that made him smirk.

Was it something dirty? (Y/N) was dying to know but at the same time she preferred to not know anything about their intimate life. Ali never talked to her about it, maybe they were still taking time to not rush anything or she was just shy about it but (Y/N) knew that one day they would have done something together and the thought of it made her sick to her stomach.

Daniel gazed at (Y/N) and gave her his usual friendly smile. He was wearing a tartan button up shirt and some high waisted black jeans. He had gotten taller since the last year, when her and Ali first met him, but his voice stayed the same. (Y/N) noticed that many times Daniel checked her out and it even happened on their first encounter at the beach but she thought that it was something unintentional that every guy did.

"Wait!" Daniel exclaimed before the two friends could walk away. "(Y/N), can i talk to you for a moment?"

(Y/N) felt butterflies in her stomach at his request. He never asked her something and their conversations were very minimal and mostly about Ali. (Y/N) nodded while her friend furrowed her eyebrows, confused, but then she smiled and waved at them.

"I'm going to class, see you later (Y/N)!" She said and, before completely walking away, she sent Daniel a kiss that he fake caught with his hand, sending her a big grin.

"So what is it?" (Y/N) tried to hide her excitment and the blush that was starting to form on her cheeks. Daniel took her hand so that they could go somewhere a little more private. (Y/N) heated even more up at his physical contact and gulped, she felt the warmth of his hand and felt his long and slim fingers around her palm.

"Okay!" He said once they reached a column and went behind it. "You are the only person that can help me right now."

(Y/N) smiled, hoping to hear Daniel say something that completely involved just her and him. She was tapping the edges of her books with her fingertips, obviously feeling very nervous.

But her hope and smile vanished when he finally spoke.

"Soon it's gonna be Ali's birthday..." He started and (Y/N) contained her delusion and sighs of vanished hope to herself, listening to him. What was she expecting? Of course it was about Ali, like always. He always chose (Y/N) when he needed to do something for Ali because she was her closest friend and knew her better than the others. "I want to organize a fun party for her and i also don't know what gift should i give her-"

"Ali doesn't want a big party this year." (Y/N) cutted him off. "She told me that she's tired of big parties, so don't bother."

(Y/N) sounded more acid than she intended to be, but it wasn't her fault. It was the jealousy that made her like that.

"Oh..." Daniel looked confused and thought about it for a second before nodding. "Okay, well, can you help me with the gift? Maybe we could go shopping together this evening if it's okay with you. I'm really desperate, i don't know what to give her! She literally has everything!"

(Y/N)'s eyes sparkled at his words.

He was basically telling her to hang out with him that night to find a gift for Ali.

Hanging out together.

(Y/N) didn't even thought about it for a second, she couldn't miss that opportunity. Spending an evening with him was something she always desired, even if it was just for Ali. She was hoping to get to know him better, to talk about their interests and maybe to find some things in common.

She couldn't say no.

"Yeah, sounds fine to me." She nonchalantly nodded, making it look like it wasn't that big of a deal but inside she was squealing. "I'll meet you at 6:00 pm at the mall, alright?"

"Yeah!" He smiled. "6:00 pm at the mall, captain!"

He walked away and turned around to wink at her and (Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat at his action. She stood still behind the column and softly smiled to herself, already thinking of an outfit for the evening. Once she reached her class 5 minutes late, she sat next to Ali like always and tried to act as if nothing happened.

"Pst!" Ali whispered and nudged her elbow, stopping (Y/N) from taking notes on her notebook. "What did Daniel want?"

(Y/N) couldn't tell her about what happened because it was also about her birthday, so she shrugged and kept writing notes.

"Nothing much, he just needed an help with a math exercise."

Ali looked a little hesitant at first and narrowed her eyes, but then believed her because she knew that (Y/N) was very good in every subject while Daniel not so much. Many minutes passed since the last words the two friends exchanged and (Y/N) suddenly saw a little folded piece of paper fall on her notebook. She furrowed her eyebrows and opened it, reading the message inside.

'Are you coming to my house this evening?'

-Johnny.

"I think that's for me!" Ali silently giggled and took the piece of paper from (Y/N)'s hands, letting out a soft laugh after reading it. She then wrote a simple 'yes' on the same paper and throwed it back to Johnny, grinning while doing so, leaving (Y/N) in pure shock as she watched the full scene.

"What are you doing?" She whisper-yelled to Ali. "I thought you never wanted to talk to Johnny again."

"Chill out, (Y/N)!" The blonde said and turned the page of her book. "We are just friends now."

"He invited you to his house, do you really think that he has friendly intentions with you?"

(Y/N) saw the teacher's glare on her and wrote no sense words on her notebook just to not be yelled at. Ali rolled her eyes and didn't look at her, making (Y/N) even more mad. She couldn't believe it and all that she was thinking about was Daniel.

"What about Daniel? Are you gonna tell him that you are paying a visit to your ex boyfriend's house?" (Y/N) spoke with a sarcastic tone and Ali scoffed.

"I know what i'm doing, it's not like i'm cheating on him." (Y/N) shook her head in disappointment, rage building up inside of her. Daniel didn't deserve that. "Mind your own business."

"You are aware of the fact that Johnny literally beated up Daniel last year or you forgot about it?" (Y/N) raised her eyebrow and Ali was red in the face, she was aware of the fact that she was doing the wrong thing.

"Johnny changed, i just want to talk to him." Before (Y/N) could respond, Ali quickly cutted her off. "Mind your own business."

After that, the bell rang and (Y/N) immediately stood up without saying another word to Ali and, once she reached the door, she saw Johnny leaning over Ali's chair, and all she did was giggle. (Y/N) made an expression of disgust and left the class, facing the day like she always did but while staying away from her best friend.

She saw Daniel and Ali walking home together at the end of school and she observed the way he wrapped one of his arms around Ali's waist so that she could be closer to him. (Y/N) hopped on her bike and during the ride she thought about her meeting with Daniel.

Knowing what Ali was doing, (Y/N) decided to play dirty too and to be selfish for once. She smirked while she rode her bike, her hair moved smoothly in the wind and she was more confident than ever in that moment because she knew what to do.

She was going to seduce Daniel.

Grinning to herself, she reached her house and prepared everything for the evening that she dreamed for a whole year. After lunch, she took a shower and made sure to use her favourite body lotion after getting out, the one that smelt like vanilla and coconut. She wrapped her wet locks around some rollers to get bouncy curls and while waiting, she started to look for the perfect outfit.

She played some music on her radio while she searched for the clothes she needed in her wardrobe and 'Cruel Summer' started echoing in the room. (Y/N) sang the words to the song and after awhile, she smirked when she placed her eyes on a beautiful red mini dress. It was tight, with thin straps and of a bright red. It didn't look too fancy, it looked classy but casual, perfect for the situation.

To match her nails with her dress, (Y/N) painted them of red and did a simple makeup to emphasize her lips so that they would have looked more kissable to seduce Daniel better. She chose a deeper shade of red for her lips and when she noticed that it was already 5:00 pm, she started getting dressed.

Once she slipped in her mini dress, (Y/N) decided to wear some black shoes with a short heel and a strap that wrapped around her ankles. She removed the rollers from her hair and styled them better with a brush. She was satisfied with how her hair turned out; bouncy, shiny and voluminous.

(Y/N) looked at her figure in the mirror and added the last touches to her look, spraying a little bit of perfume and putting on a denim jacket on her shoulders. She felt confident and smiled at her reflection proudly before leaving the house to go to the mall. She got there 10 minutes late because she walked slowly to get there, but she did it on purpose because she wanted to be waited.

When (Y/N) finally arrived, she immediately saw Daniel sitting on a bench at the center of the mall. She noticed that he had changed his clothes too but they still looked pretty casual. When she started walking towards him, Daniel stood up and checked her out, his mouth was hanging slightly open at the sight of her.

"Did you have to wait long?" (Y/N) gave him her charming smile and Daniel shook his head to reassure her but his eyes never left her body.

"No, i came here like 2 minutes ago." He nodded, but he was lying. He was there since 6:00 pm as she told him, but he couldn't be mad when she looked like that. "You look uh- very fancy."

"What are you talking about?" (Y/N) laughed. "This is my casual look."

"Well, i'm not complaining."

After his answer, (Y/N) felt even more confident than before.

This is gonna be easy. She thought to herself.

They started to walk side by side and all Daniel could hear was the click (Y/N)'s heels made after every track and he couldn't stop staring at her figure while she talked about some of Ali's favourites shops. He stared at her profile, at how her hair bounced when she walked, at her red plump lips and he felt guilty about it even tho he never denied that she was a beautiful girl.

She just looked even more beautiful in that moment and Daniel tried to distract himself from looking too much at her, but (Y/N) already knew what he was doing and contained her grin.

"She buys a lot of clothes at GadZooks" (Y/N) said and stopped walking when they reached the mentioned shop.

"I don't know, she always buys clothes... i want to give her something that she still doesn't have."

(Y/N) thought for a moment and then she turned to look at Daniel.

"You know, she talked to me about wanting some earrings..." She smirked. "What is your budget?"

"I have 50$ with me."

"That's enough, c'mon!" She purposely took his hand and sent him another smile before walking again. "I know exactly where to go!"

Daniel ended up buying some cute silver earrings for Ali and wrote her a little letter that he inserted inside the box. (Y/N) felt jealous again, especially thinking about the fact that while he was there to buy her a gift, Ali was at Johnny's house doing god knows what. (Y/N) tried to kick her thoughts out of her head because she had to focus on her goal.

"I'm sure she's gonna love them." She told Daniel after they came out from the shop. He nodded to himself and then smiled at her. "Yeah but i think i'm gonna give you some credits too on the letter."

(Y/N) slightly blushed at his comment but tried to act cool.

"Don't you think she will be jealous knowing that we spent the evening together?" (Y/N) raised an eyebrow and smirked. Daniel laughed and shrugged.

"It was for a good reason, she would never have these beautiful pair of earrings if we didn't!"

"Sounds legit!" (Y/N) laughed and before she could say something else, Daniel spoke first.

"Are you hungry? We could eat something at that bar right there, an ice cream maybe?"

(Y/N) was surprised at his question but nodded anyway and soon after that, they entered the bar where (Y/N) sat on a high stool while she observed Daniel.

"So for me a medium size chocolate ice cream with sprinkles on it..." He said to the lady behind the counter and then glanced at (Y/N) "what about you, cherry?"

The nickname took her off guard but his wink after made her cheeks flush. She cleared her throat and fixed her hair a bit before answering.

"A medium size strawberry ice cream with lots of whipped cream..." She smirked and kept talking. "And if it's possible, a little cherry on top."

Daniel chuckled while (Y/N) rested her head on her hand, admiring how perfect he looked in that exact moment. She noticed that his arms weren't as skinny as last year and she supposed that he was building up a little bit of muscles because of Karate. Daniel noticed her staring at him so he grinned a bit before snapping her out of the thoughts she was having about him.

"I think they have cherries- oh here they are!" He took both of the ice creams from the lady's hands and handed the strawberry one to (Y/N) so that he could pay for the both of them. It felt like a date and (Y/N) wasn't mad about it for sure.

Daniel sat on the stool right in front of (Y/N) and smiled at her when she took the petiole of the cherry with two of her fingers.

"Why that nickname?" She asked him and Daniel softly laughed.

"You remind me of a cherry tonight, with all that red on you." He licked some of his ice cream and (Y/N) nodded, taking it as a compliment.

"Well, do you like cherries?" She asked, her tone was seductive while she crossed her legs, discovering her thighs more. Daniel eyed her up and down and blushed a little before nodding.

"Yes, very much."

"You know, i can make a knot with the petiole of the cherry..."

Daniel widened his eyes at her words, not even knowing about that kind of talent.

"I want to see it to believe it!" He chuckled and moved closer to her with his stool, making (Y/N) giggle.

"Ok, watch." (Y/N) snatched the petiole off the cherry and inserted it into her mouth without breaking eye contact with Daniel. The dark haired boy observed her tongue movements and watched carefully, astonished by the way she slowly moved the tip of her tongue to interwine the edges of the petiole.

Her gestures also made him think dirty things that he just couldn't help. Her lips looked so good half opened and the inside of her mouth looked so inviting. Daniel didn't even feel guilty anymore, he felt like there was only (Y/N) there with him and Ali wasn't even running through his mind in that moment.

(Y/N) smiled and pulled her tongue out to show him a perfectly tight knot on the center of the petiole that Daniel observed fascinated.

"Woah" He stared at her eyes while she reached for the petiole with her fingertips to hold it in the air. "That's a big talent you have there!"

(Y/N) bit the cherry and left another equal piece for Daniel, so she bent forward and grinned at him. She also noticed that he had a little bit of ice cream on top of his lip and cleaned it off with one finger that she later licked while staring in his brown eyes. Daniel instantly tensed up, he felt his jeans tighten but tried to play it cool while eating the piece of cherry that she gave to him.

"You like it?" She asked, her voice full of mischief.

"Even more than the other cherries i ate in my life, i wonder why..."

They both bursted in a loud laugh and finished their ice creams, chatting a bit about their interests as (Y/N) hoped. He talked about how Mr. Miyagi trained him and was very euphoric while doing so, which made (Y/N) giggle.

"I saw you at the tournament." (Y/N) said and gave him a sweet smile. "I thought that the kick in the face that you gave to Johnny was amazing."

Daniel's expression softened and he blushed before smirking at her once more.

"I could teach you one day."

(Y/N) chuckled, giving him a slight slap on the shoulder.

"No but i'm serious!" He took her wrist, not harshly but enough to stop (Y/N)'s hand from slapping his shoulder. They both stared into each other's eyes and for a moment there was silence. Daniel slowly removed his hand from (Y/N)'s wrist and then proceeded to talk but with a slightly deeper voice. "I'd gladly teach you."

(Y/N) nodded, feeling her heart beat faster. She felt the whole zoo in her stomach, not just butterflies, and her cheeks were heating up.

"I'd gladly let you be my Sensei."

It was already 8:00 pm when they got out from the bar. They talked so much that time flied but Daniel didn't want to tell her goodbye yet so he took her hand and leaded her out of the mall.

"Where are we going?" (Y/N) giggled and followed him without hesitation.

"To the Arcade!" Daniel excitedly exclaimed, never leaving her hand. "We can be there in like 10 minutes if we run!"

"But Daniel, i have heels on!"

Daniel stopped in his tracks and looked at her, a big grin formed on his mouth.

"Not an obstacle for me!" Before (Y/N) could open her mouth to say something, he picked her up bridal style and (Y/N) instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. Daniel started running, holding her carefully and tight to his chest while crossing the road.

"Danny you're crazy!" (Y/N) squealed and hid her head in the crook of his neck. Daniel laughed and smirked at the nickname, her perfume invaded his nostrils and it only made him want to hold her even tighter to him and so he did. (Y/N) felt good in his arms, she was where she always wanted to be and found the crook of his neck to be comforting, she inhaled the smell of his skin and softly smiled, leaving a light peck there that didn't go unnoticed by Daniel.

After arriving to the Arcade, Daniel put her back on the ground and laughed. (Y/N) fixed her hair and her jacket with a big smile on her face.

"Are you ok?" He asked, a little bit concerned since he didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable.

"Yes, that was amazing! You are insane, LaRusso."

"I think i have a preference for Danny."

(Y/N) blushed and walked with him inside the Arcade. He searched for her hand while looking forward and she pleasantly took it, noticing how Daniel smiled as she did so.

"What do you want to do first?" Daniel asked her and she thought about it for some seconds before giving her answer.

"What about air hockey?"

"Sounds great, but i gotta warn you first; i'm the champion of air hockey!"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, giving him a challenging glance.

"We'll see about that!"

They played two matches at air hockey and (Y/N) won both times. She couldn't stop her laughter because of Daniel's disappointed expression, everytime she tried to look at his face she bursted out in a laugh that made her tear up and Daniel kinda kept that expression on purpose to make her laugh. He liked the sound of her laugh because it sounded like a melody to his ears.

"Please stop making that face!" She squealed, hitting Daniel's shoulder to make him laugh too.

"You are just so cute when you laugh..." He told her with a wide smirk. She covered her face with her hands and kept giggling before taking his hand again.

"Let's play golf!" (Y/N) exclaimed, leading Daniel to the golf spot. She saw him smirking again and rolled her eyes. "What? Are you a champion of golf too?"

Daniel gasped, putting his hand on his chest acting like he was deeply hurted.

"Jesus, (Y/N), there's no need to burn me like that!"

They both chuckled in unison and started playing but (Y/N) was having some trouble with her golf bat. She looked frustrated, losing against Daniel. The boy was amused by the sight of her and found her little pout adorable, but decided to give her an hand anyway.

"Look-" Daniel positioned his body behind (Y/N)'s back and covered her arms with his longer ones, helping her move the bat in the right way. (Y/N) could feel his breath against her hair, their faces were so close that she could see some little brown freckles at the top of his nose. They were so small that they could only be seen if someone stood that close to him. She admired his profile, his focused gaze on the hole that he had to center with the little white ball. "And just like that..."

Daniel whispered, making (Y/N) shiver. She was sure that he could hear her beating heart even over the loud music that was playing in the local. The girl looked down, placing her eyes on Daniel's hands that were covering her smaller ones. She gulped when he slightly moved both of their arms in a syncrhonized way so that he could perfectly hit the ball, making it fall into the hole.

"Thanks..." Her voice was lower than before and Daniel could see her red cheeks standing so close to her. He looked at her jawline, then his eyes fell on her displayed neck and he lightly bit his lip. Daniel slowly moved his hands to her hips while (Y/N) still held the bat with her hands and didn't move a bit when she felt his hands on her.

"No problem, let's see if you understood now."

(Y/N) didn't look at him but she knew that he had a smirk plastered on his face after saying those words. She took another ball and placed it on the ground, narrowing her eyes to focus better on her goal. Daniel's fingertips were pressed deeper on her hips but (Y/N) tried to not distract herself, moving the bat like he showed her. When the ball ended up in the hole, (Y/N) proudly smiled to herself before suddenly tripping against Daniel's chest. Daniel was quick to catch her, holding her tight to his body.

"I'm sorry..." She shyly said, meeting Daniel's eyes that looked more dilatated than before. They both remained in that position, looking into each other's eyes. Daniel gave her a flirty grin, never leaving her hips.

"I'm not." And just like that, he kissed her. Daniel LaRusso, the boyfriend of (Y/N)'s best friend, kissed her before she could even realize it. (Y/N) immediately closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his plump lips on her ones, something she always dreamed of at night. Daniel's grip on her tightened and he felt things that he never felt before, not even with Ali.

After the kiss, they both shared a look that said it all; they wanted each other. Daniel took her hand, not even bothering to fix the golf bats, and found with her an hidden spot outside of the Arcade. The streets were dark and they stopped in a spot where the music that was playing in the Arcade sounded a lot lower and Daniel didn't waste any time once he had her all to himself, attacking her lips with ardor while blocking her body between him and the wall.

Her head was spinning at the mix of sensations she was feeling, she felt heated up and her heart was throbbing. Daniel's hands reached for her ass during the intense make out session, squeezing it harshly. (Y/N) panted at the gesture and held his neck to get him even closer to her body. She still felt like she was in a dream and, if it was, she never wanted to wake up again. A light smirk appeared on her lips when Daniel's erection pressed against her.

"You make me crazy..." He whispered, never leaving her lips. Daniel looked hungry, hungry for her. He left little pecks on her cheek and jawline before stopping on her neck, where he started biting her sweet spot there.

"Daniel-" (Y/N) whimpered, making him smirk against her neck. He cupped her face, devouring her lips again while she gripped his shirt and caressed his back. Daniel slowly started to rub against her body and (Y/N) only encouraged him by following his movements. "I've always wanted you..."

"Look what are you making me do, fuck." He kissed her forehead, breathing heavily on her face. "This is what you want? This is why you showed up looking like this, uh?"

(Y/N) bit his neck, making him groan before shaking her head.

"No, i want more."

Daniel stopped for a moment, searching for her eyes just to understand what she meant. He saw desire in them once he looked at her but also desperation and love. He never saw her with that look in her eyes before and stayed silent, not knowing what to say. Her red lipstick was all smeared on her chin and he was sure he had some of it on his mouth too. When he placed an hand on her cheek, (Y/N) touched it with her fingertips and kept it there, never breaking eye contact with him.

"How long?" He asked, still shocked.

(Y/N) inhaled some air before answering and closed her eyes for a second, opening them again with wet pupils.

"Since the first day." Her voice was shaking. They both didn't know what to say or do, the sound of the music and of the cars filled their ears. Daniel opened his mouth to say something, but then he stopped himself. (Y/N) looked down, her chin was trembling and she just couldn't control herself anymore, so she started crying. She cried several times alone in her room for Daniel, but telling him about her feelings after so long and seeing that he didn't know what to say, made all her dreams fall apart.

(Y/N) turned her back to him so that he couldn't see her tears, but he for sure could hear her crying. Daniel closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair, not knowing how to react. He was clueless about everything and she never gave him signals, till that night. However, before placing his eyes on Ali that day on the beach, he was eyeing (Y/N) kissed by the sun, layed down on her towel. She slightly lowered her sunglasses to glance at Daniel and was the first girl of the group that smiled at him.

Daniel looked at (Y/N)'s back and as the time passed, he asked himself why he chose Ali. Yes, she was pretty, but (Y/N) was a beauty that he never saw before. He remembered her sly smile at the beach and even the way her legs shined in the sun, or how he desired to caress her hair because they looked so soft.

Daniel was dating the wrong girl and he only understood that thanks to that evening spent with (Y/N). He realized that he never had something really in common with Ali and she wasn't even a devoted lover like he wanted. Conversations with Ali were superficial and mostly about the things she liked. With (Y/N) time flied away and he had the most fun night in his life with her. She listened to him, she acted like his girlfriend even tho she wasn't.

And the butterflies he felt everytime he looked at her explained everything that he needed to know.

"Shit!" Daniel suddenly cursed under his breath, making (Y/N) turn her head to look at him while quickly wiping her tears away. "I think i forgot the bag with the gift at the Arcade."

(Y/N)'s heart broke even more at his words. He was still thinking about Ali in that situation. (Y/N) felt stupid and also angry. She was mentally telling herself that she needed to forget Daniel and move on, but she knew that it was going to be hard.

"I'm gonna take it back-" Daniel nervously spoke. "You- stay here. Just stay here, okay?"

(Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows at him and then only nodded, without saying a word. She watched Daniel walk away, turning the corner to reach the Arcade again. She sighed and crossed her arms to her chest, tapping her feet on the floor. The wind hit her face and she felt some of her tears drying up on her cheeks. All she could think about was Daniel kissing her, his hands, his body, his everything.

Ishould've stayed silent. She whispered to herself and rested her head against the wall, closing her eyes for some minutes before she heard some steps getting closer to her. Opening her eyes, she saw Daniel again with the bag in his hand.

"Can we go no-" Daniel ushed her, placing one of his fingers on her lips.

"I think that these will look better on you..." He softly spoke while taking out the box with the earrings from the bag. (Y/N) was beyond shocked and turned her head away, but Daniel gently took her cheek to make her look at him again. "Let me put them on you."

"Daniel what-"

"Please just let me do it."

(Y/N) sighed and stood still infront of him. He moved one strand of her hair behind her ear and clasped the first earring to her lobe, then did the same thing to the other ear. He backed away a little to admire her better and smirked at the view.

"I knew it." He proudly said, more to himself than to (Y/N). She still had her arms crossed and another warm tear was sliding down her cheek. Daniel noticed it and wiped it away with his finger, hugging her tightly and resting his chin on the top of her head. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his back and cried into his chest while Daniel caressed her soft locks and kissed her forehead, reassurring her.

When she stopped crying, he cupped her face with his hands and cleaned her up from her tears and smeared lipstick.

"I look like a mess-" she softly chuckled.

"No, you still look beautiful." He gave her a short peck on the lips and smiled. "Should we go?"

When she nodded, Daniel wrapped one arm around her shoulders and walked with her in the dark streets illuminated by the moon light. She looked down and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling protected for the first time in her life. Daniel held her tight and squeezed her shoulder before speaking.

"So when do you want me to teach you some Karate?"

#cobra kai #karate kid #80s #daniel larusso #one shot #ralph macchio #smut #angst #fluff #daniel larusso smut

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jackrrabbit · 4 years

Text

Unprofessional [pt. 1] /// Yandere Tendou x f!Reader

Summary: The new hire you’re supposed to be training at your office job is a little too attached for his own good…or yours. [Part 2]

A/N: Someone requested yandere Tendou and I was like !!! However when I wrote it, it turned out kinda long so I split it into 2 parts; I’ll answer the req when I post part 2. Anyway I’m obsessed with the concept of salaryman Tendou, please enjoy!

Tags/warnings: yandere, timeskip (Tendou is 22-23 in this), workplace/office setting, liberal use of “senpai”, alcohol, Tendou’s crackhead energy is toned down a little bit because of the setting [In part 2: smut, 18+]

You don’t really like Tendou when you first meet him.

Your first impression when your boss introduces the new employee is that he’s all talk and no substance. He’s been hired fresh out of university, and he’s got the stink of a former frat boy all over him—that baseless enthusiasm, chaotic goodwill and arrogance mixed together. That might have been your type when you were still sucking down cheap keg beer from red solo cups, but you’re two years into your career as a real grown-up adult now, and the cockiness that radiates off Tendou in waves is just…annoying.

Unfortunately, when your boss tells you to take the newbie under your wing, train him, and be his mentor, it’s not a request. It’s a demand. So you decide to suck it up. If you’re going to have to spend every second at the office with Tendou trailing after you like a baby duck, you may as well get used to him.

After a few weeks, you have to admit he’s not that bad. Sure, he’s not the best at respecting personal space, but how can you blame him? When he looms over you to reach for a file above your head for the nth time and traps you between his body and the cabinet, you finally lose your patience and snap at him to give you some space, but he looks so surprised and apologizes so sincerely that you can’t help forgiving him. You feel a little bad, even, when he explains that he’s never worked in an office before so he’s not used to all the rules that he’s expected to follow in a professional environment.

You can’t really fault him for that, especially when you’re the one who’s supposed to be teaching him these things. “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean anything,” you tell him, and he perks up so quickly that you feel even worse for chewing him out in the first place.

The thing is, Tendou doesn’t really stop getting close to you once you chastise him. It just bothers you less. The dozenth time his hand lingers over yours while you’re passing him a document or he picks an invisible thread off your blouse or sits a little too close when you’re riding in the back of a taxi to a client meeting, you start convincing yourself that you’re overreacting. He’s probably not being that much more pushy than your other coworkers—you’re just more aware of him because you don’t know him as well.

And it doesn’t help that he’s tall, towering over you and pretty much everyone else in the office. The cheap suits he cycles through can’t quite conceal the hard lines of muscle underneath—oh, whoops. Now you’re the one crossing boundaries. Tendou is so big that you’re just…more conscious of his presence, right?

This is drilled into you one night after a marathon overtime session when you’re carrying a tall stack of boxes back to the archives. Maybe it’s because you’ve been at work for 11 hours, but the files feel like they’re filled with rocks, not paper. Your muscles are this close to giving out when Tendou appears out of nowhere to pluck the files out of your arms. “Here. Gimme, gimme, I’ll take ‘em.”

The way he carries the heavy boxes so effortlessly makes you kind of embarrassed at how much you’d struggled with them. “You’re pretty strong, hm,” you say absently. Oops, was that inappropriate? You don’t want him thinking you’re hitting on him or something.

“Oh—yeah I guess?” Tendou’s laugh (the one that used to grate on your nerves) sounds like he’s pleased with himself. “I go to the gym a lot.”

“Wish I could find the time. Or the discipline,” you reply as he replaces the file box in the archive room.

“Wow, senpai is calling me disciplined. My heart is pounding.”

His tone is sarcastic enough that you don’t think twice about the second part of his statement. “Don’t get too full of yourself. If you have the energy to go to the gym, you should spend that time double checking your expense reports before you submit them.”

“Ouch.” Tendou holds his hand over his heart in mock betrayal. “Targeting my weak points, how ruthless. But seriously, working out is second nature to me. Been doin it since I was a kid so it doesn’t take any kinda discipline.”

“Oh? Did you play sports or something?”

“Yeah…” Tendou’s voice trails off and when you pause from your task of organizing the files to look up at him, he’s staring directly at you. “…Used to play volleyball. Grade school through college.”

The way he’s looking at you, searching your face for something you can’t identify, makes you think this is more important than it seems. You tip your head to the side, waiting for him to continue.

“Our team in high school was pretty good,” he says slowly.

“That’s cool,” you say, turning back to the paperwork. “Did you ever play Shiratorizawa? They’re my old high school—I think their volleyball team went to nationals back in the day. I was never into sports though.”

A moment passes, and you frown. Did you say something wrong? But just before you’re about to change the subject, Tendou starts laughing. “Shiratorizawa? No, I don’t think I ever played them.”

Your laugh joins his a second late, although you don’t know why he thinks it’s funny in the first place. In the echo of your voices, you can hear how quiet it is in the archives. There’s something here you’re missing, but you’re not sure what.

Luckily enough, the somewhat awkward atmosphere doesn’t carry over to the next day. When you get into the office, Tendou is his usual clingy self, distracting you from your own work to ask you to teach him something and pulling you away when you’re talking to your coworkers so you can double check his emails before he sends them. If anything, he’s more attached than usual—when you go to a contract renewal negotiation with a client he insists on tagging along, so you let him after making him promise not to get in the way.

Of course he doesn’t keep his promise, but you end up appreciating his intrusion more than you could have predicted. The client is stubborn and rude until Tendou chimes in (much to your dismay, at first) with an offer to add on some oddly specific perks to the contract. You’re already practicing your apology speech to the boss in anticipation of losing the client, but to your amazement he agrees to Tendou’s terms and the deal is sealed, along with a healthy bonus for you.

You’re on cloud nine, practically skipping out of the building with Tendou at your side as you fantasize about what you’re going to do with the bonus after you split it with him. A weekend vacation out of the city? An online shopping spree? Some fancy dinners at five-star restaurants? Knowing you, the money will end up going straight to your savings, but you still can’t contain your giddiness. “How did you know he wanted that add-on? Seriously, I had no idea!”

“A guess! I’m good at reading people.” Tendou’s just as elated as you, pumping his fist and whooping like a kid as soon as you’re away from the client’s earshot. “Woohoo! Yay! Our first sale together!”

“A guess? You risked that huge contract on a guess?” You roll your eyes but you’re too excited to be mad at him. “Anyway, you don’t have to say ‘our’ first sale, I know it was all you. I’ll tell the boss you’re doing a good job.”

“No way, it’s ours! Both of us. Me and senpai.” Tendou’s hand reaches down and his fingers lace with yours, squeezing so tight his knuckles go pale.

The thrill of your success flickers as nervousness sets in. Is he holding your hand? “Tendou—“

“Senpaiiiii~” he says in sing-song, swinging your hand as you walk to meet the taxi and ignoring your meek attempts to pull away. “Didn’t I do a good job?”

“Y-Yeah. Good job, Tendou.”

Work friends. The two of you are work friends. Your boss passes all comments to Tendou through you (mostly things about how he’s good with clients and charismatic but needs to stop making minor errors on paperwork). When one of you is sick, your coworkers ask the other to pass on their good wishes. Tendou fits into his role at the office seamlessly, and you can’t say you don’t appreciate the fact that all of his good work is reflecting well on you.

So when his birthday rolls around two months after he’s hired, it’s up to you to plan the office drinking party (only after he complains to you about how he doesn’t have any friends since moving to Tokyo). You have the date you got from Facebook—May 20th—circled in red pen on your private calendar along with a little doodle of a birthday cake.

“What’s that?” asks one of your coworkers, pointing to the circle, as you flip through your agenda a week before the event.

“Tendou’s turning 23,” you tell him. “It’s a Friday, so some of us are going to go to a restaurant and drink a little. You’re coming, right?”

“Oh…yeah.” Your coworker scratches his head and clears his throat. “You guys are pretty close, huh. Um, I actually wanted to ask—you’re not together, are you?”

A chill runs up your spine. “Together? Who said that?” If this rumor gets around to your boss it’ll kill your career. These things always look worse for the woman than for the man. God, it was probably something Tendou said without thinking, he’s always talking about you and someone could easily misinterpret all that praise…

“Well, if you’re dating—“

“We’re not dating,” you say quickly. “We do a lot of work together because I’m training him, but it’s not like that.”

“Really?” Your coworker straightens and smiles. “Cause I was actually thinking of asking if you wanted to go out this weekend—“

“Senpai? Can you help me with this draft?”

Damnit, it’s Tendou getting in the way at the absolute worst time—especially considering he just had to come up behind you and put his hand on your shoulder. Seriously, how many times do you have to tell him to stop doing that when you’re talking to someone else? You’re not sure whether to be irritated at him for cutting your coworker off, concerned that the other man won’t believe what you said about you and Tendou having a strictly professional relationship, or relieved that you don’t have to give an answer to what sounds like an offer for a date.

You cast an apologetic glance at your coworker and make your way over to Tendou’s desk, hoping against hope that the interruption doesn’t look too suspicious. You’d die if word got around to your boss that you were dating your mentee.

///

You’ve got this office drinking party thing down to an art. Step one is to load up on greasy appetizers that’ll increase your alcohol tolerance, step two is to drink plenty of water, and step three is to pour yourself a single drink early and take small sips.

There’s a step four, too: make sure no one else’s glass get’s below the 1/4 mark. Your boss and coworkers are a lot less receptive to how little you’re drinking when they’re all nice and tipsy. It’s a system you’ve perfected over the years, one that allows you to have fun with people from the office without risking making an ass out of yourself or getting a hangover (which, at 25, is a lot more unpleasant than it used to be).

You can’t count the number of times you’ve witnessed the awkward drunken escapades of your fellows, which range from the endearing (your boss crying over how much he loves his wife) to the awkward (coworker makeout sessions) to the potentially criminal (bar fights. So many bar fights). You’re happy to remain a neutral observer, and tonight is no exception.

The only problem is that Tendou hasn’t yet mastered the art of drinking lightly when you’re around people you work with, so now, at the end of his party, he’s (for lack of a better word) trashed. His cheek is mashed flat to the restaurant table like it’s glued there and his head is surrounded by progressive rings of bottles and cans. It’s some kind of miracle that he hasn’t yet gone to the bathroom to get sick.

“Sorry Tendou,” you sigh. “I should have been keeping a better eye on you.” You had no idea he’d get so drunk so quickly. Aren’t tall guys supposed to have high tolerance or something?

“Sssshenpaii,” Tendou slurs, hoisting his head off the table with that looks like Herculean effort. “I liiiike when…when ya look at me…”

“Ha, ha,” you say sarcastically.

Tendou’s head whips around. “Where’d everyone go?”

“They all left—now it’s time for us to go home too. Come on, I’ll help you get to the taxi.” You pay the bill (oof, there goes your petty cash for the week) and pull on Tendou’s shirt sleeve to get him to stand up. Luckily he’s just sober enough to realize what you want him to do and he follows you out to the street with an arm draped over your shoulders to steady his meandering footsteps.

The real trouble comes when the two of you are seated comfortably in the cab and the driver asks for Tendou’s address, which, apparently, he can’t remember. You do the sensible thing and look through his phone, but his own contact card provides no hint to where he lives in Tokyo, only a phone number, email, and address in Sendai which has to be his parents’ house—

Wait.

Tendou’s from Sendai?

You’re from Sendai. You didn’t know he was too. What a coincidence that both of you moved to Tokyo from Sendai. You’ve mentioned your hometown to him a couple times—how come he never told you he’s from the same place? You’re only two years older than him; maybe you’ve run across him in Sendai before the two of you started working together.

Now that you think about it, his face has always been kind of familiar…you thought it was just ‘one of those faces’, but…?

This isn’t the time to wonder, though. You poke Tendou gently in the side, careful not to jar him enough to risk any stomach upset. “Tendou? Do you remember what street you live on?”

After a long pause Tendou names a street, but it’s your company’s address which isn’t located anywhere near a residential district. When you tell him to think harder, he grimaces, lips pulling back to bare his teeth. “Don’ wanna go home…lemme sleep over at senpai’s house.”

“What? You can’t stay at my place.”

“Why noooot? ‘m tired,” he drawls, eyes closing as his head droops onto your shoulder in the back of the cab.

“It’s—it’s inappropriate—wait, no-no-no-no don’t fall asleep,” you tell him desperately but it’s already too late. A light snore filters out of him and you curse. “Tendou—“

“Address?” the cab driver barks insistently, giving you the stink eye in the rearview mirror.

Shit. Well, it is his birthday, you have a pull-out couch, and it’s not like anyone from the office is around to see you going home together. Tomorrow morning you’ll just have to give him a lecture about professional boundaries and make him promise not to breathe a word of this to your boss.

You give your own address to the cab driver. Tendou sleeps peacefully on your shoulder throughout the entire drive, rousing only when you whisper his name in his ear outside your building (which is a miracle, because you know without a doubt that you’re not capable of carrying him). When you get up to your apartment, you deposit him on the sofa bed and tell him not to look through your stuff while you brush your teeth.

Obviously, he doesn’t listen to you. When you emerge from the bathroom, Tendou is standing in the middle of your living room and turning the pages of an old photo album of yours.

“Hey, give me that.” You try to pull it away from him, but he doesn’t let go and his grip is stronger than yours, so the album remains firmly in his hands. “If you’re sober enough to mess with my things, you should go home.”

“This is senpai, right?” Tendou says, pointing to one of the photos.

Despite your exasperation, you lean in to take a look. It’s a picture from high school with you and some friends, all of you wearing your Shiratorizawa uniforms and grinning cheekily at whoever took the picture. Your fingers are cocked up in a peace sign. “Yeah? That’s me.”

“So cute…senpai is really cute…” Tendou’s long finger trails over the edge of your face though the filmy plastic covering the photo.

“Um…you need to get to sleep,” you say nervously, pulling a little harder on the album.

He doesn’t budge, instead just flipping back in the album to older pictures from when you were little until he stops at a photo of you and your younger brother in grade school. Against your better judgement, you frown and look closer to try and pick up whatever caught his interest in this particular image.

“How old…?” he asks.

“I don’t know, 10 or 11 maybe?”

Tendou nods. “When I met senpai…you were this old, yeah.”

“Jeez, you’re really drunk. We met two months ago, remember? I was on the interview board.”

“Yeah.” Tendou’s gaze is glued to the photo. “I was so sad, ‘cause senpai doesn’t remember me. But also really happy to see you after such a long time…I thought it was a dream…”

“Hm? I don’t get it.”

Tendou finally looks up from the picture and meets your wary gaze with those wide red eyes. God, you used to think his face was so creepy—lately you find his zealousness endearing, almost childlike, but right now? It’s making your feet itch how much you want to step away from him. “I was really hoping you would remember on your own, but I guess I’ll have to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“How me an’ senpai met…”

Are you imagining it, or does his voice sound a lot less slurred than it did just 20 minutes ago? “You’re not making any sense.”

“Shh, just listen…your little brother played volleyball when you were kids, didn’t he?”

How did he know that? You nod hesitantly.

“Yeah…he was in my grade. He was a bad kid, y’know that? Always saying mean things to me.”

It’s true. Your brother’s always had a mean streak in him.

“He used to call me a monster. ‘Cause, y’know—“ Tendou taps a finger against his face. “Guess I look weird. And my name, too. So he said he didn’t wanna play with me. Demons can’t play on human teams. Every day, saying cruel things. I really hated him.”

Monster. Volleyball. Your little brother. Tendou Satori like the mind-reading spirits from folklore. Something’s coming to mind, a memory you haven’t thought about in years—no, decades.

Your little brother making fun of another kid. A tall kid with red hair in a bowl cut.

“I-I remember,” you stammer. “I came to his practice one time and you were there, right? That bowl cut kid was you. I got mad at him for calling you names and I yelled at him. That’s when we met?”

“Correct!” Tendou’s beaming like you just told him he won the lottery instead of recalling a random fifteen-year-old memory. “You made him let me play! I got to get on the court, and block him, and see his beaten face looking up at me. All because of senpai.”

You can play this off, you think to yourself. Tell him you’re sorry for how your brother treated him. Ask him why he never told you that the two of you have met before. Say something. Anything. But your mouth is too dry to let you speak.

“And, you know…” Tendou’s voice softens and a light blush dusts his cheeks. “I thought you were so cool. I couldn’t believe you were related to that jerk. Can I…tell you a secret?”

No. Deep down you know what he’s going to say, and you don’t want to hear it.

Tendou’s hand comes up to comb through your hair, gently pulling through the delicate strands next to your face and tucking them back so he can lean in and whisper into your ear (even though there’s no one else around). “I like you, senpai.”

Stop it. Stop it. Your blood feels cold in your veins.

“I’ve liked you ever since then. I used to wish we were in the same grade so I could be your friend and talk to you every day. Whenever we were in different schools I missed seeing you in the halls and hearing your voice when you spoke to other people.”

“Stop...stop talking,” you whisper, but Tendou continues like he didn’t hear you.

“Why’d you have to go all the way to Tokyo for college? In my third year at Shiratorizawa I studied for your school’s entrance exam forever, but I didn’t get in. Was too busy with volleyball, I guess.” He pauses. “Oh, by the way, I went to Shiratorizawa. I lied about that, sorry. But—seriously, d’you have any idea how hard it was for me when you were away at university? Not seeing the person I love for six years?”

Love, he said. You feel nauseous. “Tendou, you don’t—“

“Let me finish, okay senpai? You don’t know how much I’ve been through. Always having to respect your ‘personal space’—“ he frames the phrase in mocking air quotes— “when I need to touch you so bad I feel like I’m gonna explode.”

And then he’s hugging you into his chest, crushing your torso into his. You struggle and try to get him to let you go, but Tendou is so much stronger than you.

“You’re not that different from your brother after all, are you?” he hums into your hair. “You’ve been torturing me. You know how you lean over my desk when you show me something on my computer? I can…see down your shirt when you do that. And I smell your perfume. I spent two hours at the mall trying all the different perfumes so I could find the right one…thought my nose was gonna stop working! But don’t laugh—“

You’re not laughing.

“—the salesgirl looked at me funny but I got it eventually. Chance Eau Fraiche, right? I can’t believe how expensive that stuff is, what is it made of gold? It was worth it though! I saw this news article about how smelling things in your sleep can trigger memories, so I tried spraying your perfume on my pillow before I go to bed and now I get to see you at work and when I’m dreaming—”

“STOP IT!” Your slap echoes across the room with a resounding crack. You’ve never hit anyone before in your life, but your aim is good enough to leave Tendou staring with a shocked expression off to the side and a bright red mark on his face. His arms fall down from you and you back away from him, clutching your hand to your chest. “You need to get out. You’re drunk and you’re not thinking clearly. We...we can talk about this tomorrow, but right now you have to go.”

Your heart is beating like hummingbird wings, sending a flush up to your face that you know is visible. Tendou ghosts his hand over his cheek and is quiet for a long moment. “I wanted to do this the right way,” he says finally.

“What?”

“I tried. But you’re so obsessed with professionalism. You refused to see me like that,” he sighs. “You’re too responsible. Although it’s one of the things I like about you.”

“Please listen to me...” The psychological anxiety of this revelation is stirring up a primal fight or flight instinct, and you start backing up.

“I really wanted to treat you gently. You deserve to be treated well…”

“Tendou, wait.” How far are you from your bedroom? You don’t want to resort to hiding from him, but you’d feel a lot better with a locked door between you and him.

“…but senpai, I’ve waited so long. And it’s my birthday.”

Your hands scrabble for the doorknob, only—oh. He’s not just stronger than you, he’s faster too.

➠ [Part 2]

#Tendou Satori x reader #Tendou Satori #Tendou x reader #haikyuu x reader #Tendo Satori x reader #Tendo Satori #Tendo x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #hq imagines #yandere #yandere haikyuu #yandere haikyuu x reader #yandere Tendou Satori x reader #yandere Tendou Satori #yandere Tendo Satori x reader #yandere Tendo Satori

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redgillan · 4 years

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Under Pastel Skies - 5

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 4,569

Warnings: none

A/N: Let me just thank you for your support, it’s so heartwarming and I love you so much. I’m sorry this chapter is so long, I have no idea how that happened. I hope you enjoy this :’)

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post.

After you agreed to move in with Bucky and become a full time artist, everything started to move incredibly fast. The dinner went well, you worked out the details of your contract with Sam and Nat who didn’t seem surprised that this was happening.

You left your job almost overnight, only giving them two weeks’ notice. They easily found a new breakfast attendant and you even trained your replacement. You emptied your locker, returned your name tag and your master key, and went on your merry way.

Now you were on your way to Bucky’s apartment, a suitcase full of clothes between your legs and another full of administrative papers, beauty products and whatnot between Natasha��s legs. She had insisted on coming with you to help you get settled. You didn’t own furniture or anything that required her help so you figured she just wanted to make sure Bucky was treating you right.

He had already transferred your monthly allowance to your bank account, which prompted your bank to call you. They wanted to know where the 5 thousand dollars came from and you told them it was a gift. “If your friend’s looking for new friends give them my number, yeah?” the man on the phone told you.

The rocking motion of the train had a soothing effect on you, almost lulling you to sleep. You let your head fall against the window and played one of your favourite game –people watching.

There was a man reading a newspaper, standing with his feet apart as if the cart was one giant skateboard. A woman was putting on makeup, another was playing a game on her phone. The woman sitting next to you was wrestling with her toddler who wanted to snatch your scarf. It was a quiet day.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Natasha asked, her face as cold as stone.

“’Bout what?” you replied in a sleepy voice.

“About your crush on James.”

“I don’t have a crush on Bucky.”

As soon as the words passed your lips, a tiny, sticky hand landed on your jaw, making a wet slapping sound. You blinked hard, your eyes trained on Natasha who was now openly smiling at the toddler next to you.

“See? Even the baby knows you’re a liar,” she said, singing the last word.

You turned your head to look at the baby and saw him put his fist in his mouth, his eyes bright and wide. With a happy squeal he launched himself at you again, smacking you in the face. The mother apologized and held her child against her chest, softly admonishing him to stop throwing himself at strangers. You felt that. He spent the rest of the ride looking at you.

“So, really, you’re going to move in with a man you have a massive crush on, and we’re not even going to talk about it,” she pressed on.

You huffed, wiping baby goo from your cheek with your sleeve. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”

“And you’re the bone.”

You got off the train and walked to Bucky’s apartment, your suitcase rolling behind you. Natasha was silent next to you, something that almost never happened. You counted your steps in your head, waiting for her to speak.

“You didn’t have to move out of my apartment.”

22 steps. That’s how long Natasha managed to stay quiet for. “Of course, I had to. I’m not going to do Brooklyn-Chelsea every day.”

When Bucky had offered his guest bedroom, your first reaction had been to politely refuse. Bucky seemed like a nice guy, but what if he had a glass cage in his basement? What if he trapped you there and commissioned paintings to you? Psycho killer, qu'est ce que c'est.

Then he opened up about his past, his insecurities, and it made you long to hold him. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, the kind that only come from an unprotected heart. You realized there was more chance of you hurting him than the opposite.

“You’re the one who organized this whole thing,” you reminded Natasha.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you had a crush on him. And if someone tells Okoye this was my idea, she’ll kill me.”

You turned to her with a not-sorry smile. “Yup.”

Your big sister was like most big sisters: extremely protective. When your mother had to work late, she was in charge and she took her role very seriously. You were nine when she finally got her driver’s licence, and that day she graduated from sister to mother. Eat your vegetables. Did you do your homework? I know you didn’t brush your teeth.

Okoye was loyal, protective, intimidating, and never afraid to speak her mind. When she decided to join the Dora Milaje, you thought the job was perfect for her –the king’s bodyguard, now that’s something you’d like to put on your resume.

“Do you want me to stay tonight?” Natasha asked as you got inside the elevator.

“Why are you so worried?”

“I don’t know.” She pressed her back against the wall and shrugged. “It’s always been you and me. Since first grade.”

You returned her sad smile with one of your own. “Heckle and Jeckle.”

She barked out a laugh at the memory. It was the nickname her father had for the two of you. It used to be a popular animated cartoon in the 50s. It was the story of two talking magpies who were always getting into some kind of trouble.

You stepped out of the elevator, still arguing about which one of you got to be Jeckle, the less problematic of the two, when you noticed that Bucky was patiently waiting for you by the front door. He didn’t say anything but there was an amused smile on his face.

He let you put your suitcases in the guest room near the kitchen and told you that he had to run a few errands, giving you a little privacy. Natasha hung up your clothes in the wardrobe while you unpacked your other stuff and put them away in the drawers of your dresser.

It didn’t take you long to unpack. When you were done, you threw yourself onto the bed, watching Natasha. You were excited to sleep in a real bed, you couldn’t stop running your hands up and down the comforter.

“Jeckle,” Natasha said, looking at the mostly empty wardrobe. “You need new clothes.”

“Ugh, yes,” you groaned from the bed.

When you were a teenager, you used to spend every weekend at the mall with your sisters and Natasha. Your wardrobe wasn’t big enough to fit all your clothes and your mother often asked you to get rid of the things you didn’t wear anymore. You never did.

Then life happened, and you didn’t have the energy or money to go shopping anymore.

You went to the kitchen to grab something to drink. Bucky’s fridge was even bigger than the one you had at work, and it was full of food in neatly labelled rows of Tupperware containers. The one in front of you was labelled ‘baby carrots’.

“Neat freak alert,” Natasha commented, peering over your shoulder into the refrigerator.

“Stop it.”

You took a bottle of water and sat at the kitchen island while Natasha continued investigating his kitchen. Bucky had several gadgets that few people had in their kitchen like a cutting board with suction cups on the bottom and nails on top to hold the food in place while slicing.

It was obvious that he liked to cook, and for some reason it made you smile. You pictured him cooking for one and your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. It was a sad mental image and you shook your head to get rid of it.

The front door opened and you lifted your head to see what Natasha was doing. She was holding Bucky’s meal plan, perusing it intensely. Bucky entered the room and greeted you with a smile before he made his way over to the fridge.

“Can I help you with anything?” he asked.

Natasha waved the meal plan in your direction mouthing ‘it’s laminated’ while Bucky retrieved a bottle of water for himself. You gestured wildly at her to put it back down.

“No, I’m good,” you replied with a slightly crazed smile. He looked between you and Natasha with a frown. “Natasha was about to leave.”

“Was I?” she replied, tilting her head.

“Yeah, you have stuff to do, remember?” You gave her a pointed stare.

“No.”

You widened your eyes at her and moved your head in the direction of the hallway that led to the front door. You tried to be discreet but you knew you weren’t fooling anyone. She watched you, unfazed.

Luckily, Bucky came to your rescue.

“Thank you for coming all the way out here, Natasha. Do you want me to call you a cab?” His tone left no room for discussion. You hid your grin behind your glass.

“That won’t be necessary,” she replied without looking at him.

You walked Natasha back to the front door and opened it. She glared at something over your shoulder and you turned to see if Bucky was there. He wasn’t.

“Wait, I forgot to tell him that if he hurts you I’ll kill him.”

You grabbed her by the shoulders when she tried to move past you. “I think he got the message. Thanks for coming with me. I’ll call you tonight.”

“You’d better,” she warned with a slow nod.

When you returned to the kitchen, it really dawned on you that you were alone with Bucky. He glanced up at you while he was going through his mail. You took your seat and nervously looked around the room. It was too quiet, you didn’t like it.

“I like your friend,” he said, grinning. “She seems very protective of you.”

“She is,” you sighed.

An uncomfortable and strangely melancholic silence hung between you. You were both afraid to say or do the wrong thing. You felt like you didn’t belong there; like a patch sewed on a worn out pair of jeans, mending holes.

“You ok?”

You looked up at him. “Yeah, I just feel a little awkward. I’m... not sure what you want me to do now.”

“Nothing,” he said, rounding the kitchen island to sit on the stool next to you. His eyebrows were pulled together in concern. “This is your home. You can do whatever you want.”

“It doesn’t really feel like my home.” You shrugged one shoulder. “It kinda feels like I just unloaded my crap in your guest room, which is exactly what happened.”

He observed you a moment. “Well, make it your home. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable here.”

“So,” you glanced at him sideways. “If I bought a few things to make this place more... homey, you wouldn’t be mad?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled up as his smile grew. “I’m begging you to make this place more homey. It’s really boring, isn’t it?” he said, looking around the kitchen with a comical frown.

You chuckled. “No, it’s not. Well, maybe a little.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” he said with a laugh.

Bucky watched you with his cheek in the palm of his hand. Your eyes were moving around the room, making mental notes of the things you wanted to add. He smiled, the sparkle was back in your eyes.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, straightening up.

He left the room for a second and came back with his hand hidden behind his back. You looked at him with a playfully suspicious frown as he approached you. You followed his movements closely, your frown deepening when he placed a little white box on the kitchen counter.

“Open it.”

You removed the lid and pulled out a set of keys, undoubtedly the keys to his apartment. The keychain was gleaming the light; a small silver angel that fit snugly in the palm of your hand.

You barely managed to croak out a thank you before you threw yourself at him, hugging him tight. His body tensed instantly and you were about to apologize when you felt his arm wrap around you.

You felt pressure build in your throat, a tingling sensation in your nose, and tried to hide your face in the crook of his neck. The last thing you wanted was for him to catch you crying over a set of keys. Though deep down it wasn’t about the keys, it was the accumulation of pent-up emotions and the realization that you were now completely free to follow your dreams.

You released him but he was still hanging on to you. Tight. His heart was beating fast against your chest. He was a lonely man craving human interaction. So you closed your eyes and rubbed your hands up and down his back –gently and out of sync. After a few long minutes, he untangled himself from you.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes. “C’mon, there’s something else I want to show you.”

“Another gift?” You sighed his name when you noted the guilty expression on his face. “It’s too much.”

“It’s a practical gift, hardly a gift at all.”

He took you upstairs to the room that was now your studio. The room hadn’t changed since your last visit, except for the easel placed in the centre. You entered slowly as if you were approaching a frightened mythological creature. You ran your fingers along the wood, your chest tight with the heft of your emotions.

You hadn’t seen one in a while, and now it was right in front of you, beckoning. “Show me how you feel,” the easel said. “Show the world what you’re made of.”

“Thank you so much,” you said, your voice soft.

“I thought it was the perfect housewarming gift for you.”

You turned to him and smiled. “It is. I already bought everything I need. Paint, knives, brushes, canvases... an easel. Sorry, I didn’t know you were going to buy me one. It’s good to have more than one though. Online shops are a bit impersonal.” You walked toward the door where he was waiting. “I miss the smell of art supply stores. It’s so intoxicating, it really gets the creative juices flowing.”

“What does it smell like?”

You closed your eyes and tried to concentrate. “It’s a mix of paint and paper, a woody pencil-sharpening smell mixed with chemicals and ash.”

“Sounds relaxing.”

“It’s heaven,” you said with a dreamy sigh.

Bucky gave you a fond smile and glanced at the keychain still in your hand. “So that’s where angels come from, uh?”

You laughed and pushed his good shoulder playfully. Ever since that fateful day when Bucky asked you out for coffee and you mistook his business date for a romantic date, you learned not to take the things he said too seriously. Bucky was a nice guy, a bit of a flirt sometimes, but his intentions were clear. He wanted a companion, not a girlfriend.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a flash, you went to your room and rearranged a few things while Bucky stayed in his office. At dinnertime you set the table while he finished cooking. You sat in front of a bowl of homemade soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.

After you had practically licked your bowl clean, Bucky leaned back in his chair and watched you with a grin. You felt a little embarrassed. You wiped your mouth with your napkin, trying to look a bit more well-mannered.

“It was really good,” you said.

“Thank you. I gotta say, I was tired of cooking for one. It’s not fun.” He put your empty bowl in his and carried them to the sink. You gathered up plates and utensils and followed him. “You’ll have to tell me what you don’t like.”

“As long as you don’t make me eat broccoli ice cream, I’m good.”

He laughed, remembering your conversation from a couple of week ago. “I don’t think I can stomach it either.” He handed you two small plates and two forks. “I bought a cake. I thought we could celebrate our first day together. Is it creepy? I can’t tell.”

“No, that’s a great idea!” you laughed. “You’re making me feel like it’s my birthday.”

You carried everything to the table while he opened the fridge and retrieved a large pink cardboard box. He balanced the box in his hand, a sharp knife sitting on top. “I’m surprised you didn’t bake it yourself,” you said, picking up the knife.

“Dessert isn’t my forte.” He opened the cardboard box, revealing a three-layer red velvet cake. “I’m too much of a perfectionist. I can make pretty decent pies but sponge cakes are hard to control when you only have one hand.”

“We can bake cakes together if you want. I’m clumsy as hell but I’m willing to learn.”

“That’d be nice,” he replied with a smile.

It was, without a doubt, the best cake you’d ever had in your life. It was incredibly light. The chocolate and vanilla burst in your mouth, mixing perfectly with the bitterness of the buttermilk.

“Red velvet is my favorite,” Bucky said, licking his fork. “Blueberry cheesecakes are good too. And Blackout cakes, umm, so good. Except fruitcakes,” he said, his mouth twisted into a downturned grimace. “Fruitcakes are the devil.”

“You’ve got quite the sweet tooth.”

“You have no idea,” he said, shaking his head like he couldn’t quite believe it himself.

After a minute of silence, you said, “The last time I ate red velvet cake, my sister had put too much white vinegar. It was disgusting but we didn’t want to hurt her feelings so we ate all of it.”

Bucky chuckled. “How many siblings do you have?”

It was a standard get-to-know-you question and you knew he would ask it at some point. Yet, it made your guts twist in pain. It was a question you always dreaded because you didn’t have a clear answer to it. Should you leave Pietro out? He was gone but he was still your brother.

“I, uh,” you mumbled, staring down at your half-eaten slice of cake. “I’m not sure what the answer is.” He frowned at you, confused. “Do you... do you count the ones you lost?”

Understanding flashed in his eyes and he gave you a patient smile. “Yes, I do.”

You met his eyes and tried to smile, though you were pretty sure it looked more like a grimace. “I have four siblings then.” You took a forkful of cake and chewed slowly, allowing yourself a few seconds to clear your thoughts. Without success.

“I was adopted,” you revealed. His eyebrows rose in surprise but he let you continue. “We were all adopted. My mom lost her husband when she was young. They wanted to have a big family but they were too busy working. They both had very demanding jobs.”

“What did they do?”

“He was in the military, and she was the co-founder of an extra-governmental military counter-terrorism and intelligence agency.”

“That’s a mouthful,” Bucky chuckled.

“You should hear their name.” He gave you a ‘go ahead’ look. “It’s the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division.”

You watched Bucky process the name, waiting for the moment realization would dawn on him. Then his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.? Your mom’s the co-founder of S.H.I.E.L.D.” He stared at you, his mouth wide open. “Your mom’s Peggy Carter!? Jesus Christ,” he sighed, shaking himself out of his stupor. “When we were kids, me, Stevie and a couple of other kids pretended to be secret agents working for S.H.I.E.L.D. We even had a name: the Howling Commandos.”

You screwed your eyes shut, a smile breaking across your face. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, embarrassment colouring his face. “I dunno why I’m telling you this. Please, don’t tell your mom.”

Your laughter died down, and you continued smiling at him. He was cute when he was flustered. You smothered that thought as soon as it materialized.

“I didn’t know she had adopted five kids.”

“Yeah, I guess her job as the co-founder of one the most important secret agency gave her the freedom to adopt without having to wait.”

“Do you get along with your siblings?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I mean, kinda. Scott, my older brother, is a few years younger than you. He’s really smart but he’s a big goof. He left for San Francisco when I was a kid. My sister, Okoye, left when I was 19. She’s King T’Chaka’s bodyguard.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” you chucked. “The twins are only three years older than me. We were really close, but then Pietro,” you took a small pause, “he, um, he died and, Wanda, she couldn’t stay anymore. It was too much, y’know. She went to Sokovia -where they were born- and she never came home. Last I heard, she was backpacking through Europe.”

“You still have your mom though,” Bucky said with a warm smile.

“She’s in London,” you said, smiling even though you had to dig your nails into your palm to keep yourself from crying. “She’s in a nursing home. She was diagnosed with a form of dementia, something similar to Alzheimer. She has no idea who I am.”

You tried to speak in a normal, detached tone but your voice wavered and you fought not to cry. Bucky reached for your hand, your nails had left half-moon indentations in your palm. Wordlessly, he smoothed his thumb over your palm, inspecting the damage.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice soft.

Until now it had never occurred to you that you had never said those things out loud before. Natasha knew because she’d been with you through all of it. She was your best friend, the only person who hadn’t abandoned you yet.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d met someone new, someone you felt comfortable enough to talk to about your family.

You didn’t want to end the day on a sad note, so you pulled yourself together. You straightened up, wiped your eyes and sniffed back the tingling feeling in your nose. Bucky seemed to notice that you wanted to change the subject because he let go of your hand and picked up his fork again.

“So,” you said after clearing your throat. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“It’s a serious question and it’s important that you tell me the truth.”

Bucky flinched, his throat working as he swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I promise.”

You took a deep breath and rotated your head left and right, working the kinks out of your neck and back. Then you levelled him with a direct stare.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

Bucky recoiled as if he had misheard you. He looked momentarily startled by your question before he burst into laughter. When your face remained stoic, he realized you weren’t joking. “Oh? Umm, I don’t know.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He seemed lost in thought for a second. “I like blue.”

“Which blue? Navy? Tiffany blue? Sapphire? Baby blue? Teal? Duck-egg? Turquoise?” you enumerated them quickly.

“Just...blue?” he replied carefully. You took a deep breath and released it slowly, shaking your head. “No, wait,” he added in a hurry. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration while he was trying to come up with a better answer. “The color of the sky when a storm is brewing. That’s my favorite color.”

You smirked. “Poetic.”

“Well, I’m a writer,” he replied with a lopsided grin. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Oh no, you can’t ask me that. I’m a painter, it’s like asking a parent who their favourite child is.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded, waving his hand to dismiss the question. “Let me ask you an equally important question.”

“Oh, boy,” you laughed.

The warmth of his laughter was reassuring. It made you feel at ease, calm. What you hadn’t realized yet was that you weren’t trying to change your personality to please him. You were yourself, flaws and all.

“When you read a book, how do you keep track of your reading?” he asked. “Do you use a bookmark? Receipts? Candy wrappers? Book ribbon? Do you fold the corner of the page? Do you leave the book face down or memorize the page number? I need to know.”

You didn’t have to think about it. “Dog ears.”

“Oh, God, you’re a folder.” He stared up at the ceiling and sighed heavily. “I think I got you all wrong. You’re not an angel, you’re a little demon.” He pressed his lips together in a thin line to hide a smile.

He quickly gathered up the dirty plates and carried them to the sink while you remained seated at the table, laughing. You turned in your chair and saw him fill the sink with hot water and suds. What kind of millionaire doesn’t own a dishwasher?

“I bet you also write in ‘em,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a hint of a smirk.

“No, I would never,” you said, joining him at the sink. “I like books that look old though. Cracked spines, folded corners, tea or coffee stains.”

“Please, stop I’m going to hyperventilate,” he joked.

You chuckled. “Do you a have a towel?” you asked, giving him a little tap with your hip so he would scoot sideways.

He let go of the knife he was washing and pulled out a towel from the cabinet under the sink. You were a bit in awe of the way he cleaned everything with only one hand but you didn’t want to sound condescending so you kept it to yourself.

“What’s the point of having books if they look like nobody’s ever opened them?” you said. “I want to know my books had a good life before I bought them. I want to know they were loved. Sometimes when you love something, you mess it up a little.” He rinsed a plate and handed it to you. “I bet you have one of those sentence pointer bookmarks.”

He stayed quiet for a moment and you cursed yourself, thinking you might have hurt his feelings with your little teasing. His meal plan was fucking laminated, of course he had a sentence pointer bookmark. When he spoke, you felt like you could breathe again.

“I do have a bookmark. My niece made it for me at school. It’s pink and it has a braided pink and purple ribbon. No sentence pointer.”

His rueful smile and slightly red cheeks made your chest warm. You had to remind yourself that Bucky wasn’t flirting with you. He was just being nice.

“I’m jealous,” you said. “I wish I had one.”

“That can be arranged,” he nodded, his bottom lip jutting out in a pensive pout.

You wondered what this would look like if someone were to enter the room right now. They’d see you and Bucky, standing side by side at the sink as though you were the protagonists of a Norman Rockwell painting called ‘Domestic Bliss’. You wanted more days like this one.

“Yeah?” you breathed out. “You sure?”

“Anything for you, angel.”

Part 6

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites

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loveinterestcastiel · 3 years

Text

erosion

I wrote some endverse fic based on a @lateral-org post asking a FANTASTIC question:

When/why/how did endverse! cas get rid of the trenchcoat and what was dean's reaction?

Rated M. Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence. Word Count: 4.1k

tagged some mutuals and people I thought might be interested in this under the cut, if you want tagged in this/future fic or want me to remove your tag dm me!

erosion

Of course, Sam said yes in Detroit. So why dream about that? He lived it every day. The redundancy was irritating at best.

Where the fuck did I leave my boots last night? Cas cursed under his breath and embarked on a thorough search of their cabin, the coarse words warm and familiar on his tongue as he yanked on his socks. I really am starting to sound like Dean.

Dean’s boots were already gone, his gun and thigh holster absent too. He’d left his green jacket behind, tossed carelessly aside last night and hidden under the trenchcoat on the floor at the foot of their bed. He slipped his coat on over his clothes and shoved Dean’s jacket into their pack- he knew he’d want it later, even if it was just for the drive back. He slipped on the worn coat, habit- he’d stopped wasting Grace on its upkeep a while ago, but it was still important. It felt like comfort, in some strange way, so he kept on wearing it despite the worn-through elbows or the stubborn little bloodstained spot on the hem.

He’d dreamed of Detroit, last night, again. He didn’t know if he’d ever get used to dreaming, as unsettling and involuntary as it was. It felt like the unfair hijacking of an otherwise enjoyable human bodily function, and he resented it altogether. He snagged a bit of weed from his stash and tucked it in next to his flask, sweeping out the cabin door and into the frigid morning sunshine, giving Chuck a lazy wave as he ambled past his cabin to the truck lot, kicking little pebbles across the packed dirt at imaginary targets with a super-human precision that grated strangely on him today.

“Big run today,” Chuck said with a tentative smile, his hands clasping a chipped mug filled to the brim with his ridiculously indulgent tea, wafting a cascade of steam out over the railing of his cabin porch before dissipating into the air. “Don’t forget the perishables if you can get at them, ok? We’re seriously low on-”

“Toilet paper, milk, cheese, butter,” he interrupted, “plus sugar, flour, canned fruit, hygiene products, toothpaste, toilet paper, coffee, meat if we can get it, .35 and 9mm ammunition, mechanical oil, gasoline, propane, rubbing alcohol, gauze, surgical tape, toilet paper, paracetamol, and oh, toilet paper again!” Cas recited dryly, rolling his eyes. “You gave us a written list yesterday. Twice. Couldn’t fuck up blackout drunk.”

Chuck snorted, shaking his head in self-deprecation. “Just doing my job, Cas.”

“We’ll do ours,” he called over his shoulder, continuing down the central path briskly. “We’ve all got our part to play.”

What was it Lucifer had said to Dean, that night Zachariah stole him out from under Cas’s nose and threw him into the future? No matter what choices you make, whatever details you alter… we will always end up here.

It certainly seemed like he was right. Most days, it seemed like they were all hurtling towards the exact same place Dean had caught a wretched glimpse of, once, with the brakes slashed and emergency failsafes offline, and no indicator that the impossible choices they were making every day were anything but inevitable. He knew that Dean still had nightmares about his ending, but he didn’t know much else about Dean’s nightmares anymore but what little snippets he could garner from what Dean mumbled and cried out in his sleep. He’d lost the ability to dreamwalk a while back. Three nights after the Croatoan virus wiped out Fort Worth and they were forced to fall back, he tried to enter Dean’s sleep to watch his dreams in the dubious refuge of a closed down Motel 6 off of interstate 70 as they ran west, to see if there was some piece of information they’d missed, some new choice they could make one day that could change the path they were on.

It simply hadn’t worked. He mourned the loss of one more skill in the darkness of their room that night as Dean slept uneasily in the bed beside him, one more thing which, in its absence, made him ever more useless to Dean, much like the loss of his ability to time travel, or to smite their enemies with ease. Flight was becoming difficult by the day, and he knew in some part of his mind that his wings would be the next to go, and he would be grounded, permanently, on Earth and not in Heaven.

And so it goes.

Anyway, it wasn’t like they had much of a choice about anything these days. Once Michael had taken Adam, they lost their only trump card. Heaven didn’t need Dean anymore, but Hell desperately needed Sam. It was a shame, it really was, that Sam’s gamble hadn’t paid off.

It was a miracle Lucifer let Dean go. He had brushed him off as a non-threat. Unimportant on a cosmic scale, however important Dean was to the vessel. To Sam. So Dean walked out of that run down building alive, and he was the most beautiful, terrible thing Cas had ever seen. His soul shone brighter than even an archangel’s grace in his rage and trembled with the fierce sharpness of grief, and it was glorious, righteous.

Godly.

Even as Cas’s memories softened and blurred, becoming tinged with a mortal haze, that memory of Dean remained in a sparkling clarity. He could imagine no life, no moldable version of the past, in which he did not choose Dean. From the very first moment his soul had reached back to cling to Cas’s Grace in Hell, Cas had fallen, was falling, would fall, for Dean. It was inevitable, his love. They were inevitable. They fell together in the time after Detroit, into battle, into bed, and into cosmic obscurity. Soon, too soon, their losses began to outnumber their wins, and they had to make more and more certain regrettable sacrifices just to stay alive. Cas was used to collateral damage, far more than Dean was, but whatever the other humans in their ragged camp believed of him, he wasn’t unaffected. Just the opposite, in fact. He had never felt anything before, not for billions of years, an incomprehensible existence of light and intent and obedience and war, and now he felt everything. That- not Dean’s disappointment, or the slow loss of his Grace, or his Father’s unyielding silence- was undoubtedly the worst part of becoming something like human.

Some days were better than others, of course. Some days he took precious little blue or white or green pills, all different shapes and sizes and he felt good. Numb, pleased, far away. Quiet. Others, fewer than the days he had his pills, he took shrooms, LSD. Molly, twice. Often he took nothing at all, craving the wicked pain and emptiness it created in him as his sobriety enhanced the ache his dwindling Grace left behind, needing the punishment to feel real before forcing himself into a tumultuous sleep after days spent horribly awake with half a bottle of rotgut sloshing in his stomach. He still liked joints, rolled meticulously, their verdant smoke curling up deliciously in his lungs and setting him up on a lovely little metaphorical cloud the best, and then, they were even more so lovely when he shared them with Dean. There was nothing, nothing like passing it between them, before transitioning into trading hit after hit between their mouths, brushing against his soft lips, breathing his air, watching Dean’s cheeks flush a stunning pink and holding tight to his deep golden hair, dragging him down into slow, languid kisses that desire deepened and turned into a precious sort of holy consumption as the high hit its stride in them both.

He was sober today, mostly, just riding out the last of some gorgeous pink pill from a nearly full bottle he’d just scavenged out a few days before. It made him feel floaty, focused, fearless. He felt almost like he did two years ago, before his reeducation stint in Heaven. Angelic. It was nice. He’d take another, later. Maybe Dean would want to take one, too, and they could fuck high out under the stars on their quilt again like they did last October and feel like the real Gods of this stupid little planet, on top of the world, on top of Dean, cradled in the soft embrace of his thighs, and worship each other.

Take that, brothers. Castiel smiled viciously at the sky. You’ll never fuck God like I have.

Standing impatiently among their motley caravan of vehicles in the sickly yellow light of a midwestern April morning sun, his back to Cas, Dean’s silhouette and the flashing imprint of his soul- the only one Cas could still see clearly- caramelized into a sweet union of tangible and not that pulled at his stomach and swept him into the siren song of Dean’s being and woke up the hungry creature that lived in his heart and craved DeanDeanDeanDean.

No one else was there yet, probably all still dicking around at the camp mess and drinking shitty chicory. His feet fell silently on the earth, leaving behind the sound of the universe and the vibrant humming of Dean’s soul- and oh, he hoped he could always hear that symphony, even when all the rest of his powers had run dry.

Just as he reached out to take Dean by the shoulder and turn him around, Dean moved with a sudden burst of energy, like a coiled snake striking out. He whirled around and met Cas’s eyes, took him by the neck and the waist, and kissed him. His lips moved with a gentleness that contradicted the intensity of the grip of his cold-fingered hands as they worked their way into his hair, wormed their way under his trenchcoat, and touched the bare skin they found where the hem of his t-shirt met his jeans. He met the kiss eagerly, licking teasingly at the seam of his lips, biting down gently and coaxing Dean into opening his mouth. He pushed Dean back until his back hit the nearest rusted army-green truck with a small thudding noise, pressing himself up against Dean and tugging on his hips so they were pressed flush against each other, the contact sending and electric thrill racing up his spine.

“Cas,” Dean gasped out at the sensation of their bodies meeting, the air punched out of his lungs.

“Mmm, morning,” Cas murmured between kisses. “You’re out here early.” Dean’s neck was uncharacteristically bare above the neck of his rough brown sweater, creamy and invitingly unmarked. Cas indulged in the impulse to change that, working his way over the tender skin, sucking and biting until a bruise began to bloom below the junction of Dean’s jaw and neck, worrying it with his teeth until it was a deep reddish-purple.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Dean whispered, letting his head fall back against the truck window, baring his throat further, and closed his eyes. He seemed almost happy, today. He seemed to light up in the lead-up to their more dangerous missions, and Cas didn’t want to think about that right now. Didn’t want to ruin the moment. “Didn’t want to wake you up,” Dean elaborated.

“I appreciate that.” Satisfied with the rather outrageous hickey he’d created on Dean’s neck, Cas pressed it with one last kiss. “How’d you know I was behind you?” he asked, pressing their foreheads together and slowly grinding their hips together lazily, just breathing Dean in.

“Felt you,” Dean said, bringing their lips together again briefly. “Always can.” One more little kiss.

“Dean, last night, when you couldn’t sleep, I dreamed again about Detroit-” Cas started to confess feverishly, almost against his will, Dean stiffening up at his words in his arms, and was interrupted by the sound of people approaching, footsteps, voices, and an earsplitting wolf-whistle directed at their compromising position.

Dean’s face shuttered immediately, and Cas felt every scrap of easy bliss flee his body.

He pulled back with more than a little reluctance, his stomach twisting as a fakely jovial grin tugged at the corners of his lips, and clapped Dean on the shoulder. “Let’s go, fearless leader. We’ve got a mission to run, don’t you know?”

“Don’t start with that fearless leader shit,” Dean said tightly, rolling his eyes away from Castiel’s face and fixing on a point somewhere over Cas’s shoulder. “Who’s driving?”

“Looks like Cas is driving,” Joe called out mischievously.

Risa smacked him in the chest. “Get in the truck, idiot.” She turned her gaze to Dean, an odd glint in her eye. It felt sticky and wrong in his core but Cas stamped the feeling down. “Group brief over the radio on the way?” she asked.

“Yeah, at 8,” Dean said, sliding into his unshakeable militaristic persona with a firm nod. “Should be fairly straightforward in and out supply grab. Intel says the Croats cleared out of Roanoke a couple days ago, left major infrastructure and commerce sites relatively untouched. It’s a good thing too,” he added, “we were getting spread a little thin with most goods.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

———————————————————————

It was not, in fact, easy.

Their intel was wrong, so wrong, and Cas didn’t know how the fuck it happened, but they were fine, they were almost finished, closing up the trucks in the alley behind the supermarket and waiting for Dean and Trish to return from sweeping the perimeter, when out of what seemed like thin air and with no more than a broken shout for warning there were more Croats swarming them than he’d ever seen in one place before, and Joe and Maya and Kris were dead, and Dean was nowhere to be found.

The Croats had the remaining seven pinned down against the main truck, snarling and screeching and reeking of blood and gore, strips of flesh and clothing that once adorned their companions now dangling from their teeth. Their single-minded need for the endless consumption of human flesh and that it was currently being denied drove them to a terrifying frenzy, but the hunters were starting to push back, and the Croat numbers were thinning slowly but surely. Cas thought he saw Allen get bitten, but next he glanced at him he looked fine. He’d need to check on that if they made it out alive. He resigned himself quickly to the idea of killing the man before they got back to Chitaqua- Allen was a nice enough man, quick-witted and skilled with a blade and a loom, but nothing was worth bringing a Croat back to camp. He owed it to the man as a human being to grant him a swift death if he’d been infected before Allen himself could realize it. A shot to the back of the head, unawares, had to be better than a clumsy battle and inevitable stab to the chest (Cas knew he would always have the upper hand against a human, even when he had fallen in full) with fear in his heart.

He buried his angel blade to hilt in yet another Croat’s throat, yanking it out and ducking out of the way of the spray of blood that followed in a well-practiced motion uncanny in its speed. They would win this one.

But still no Dean.

Cas felt a bubbly panic rise up in his chest through the haze of battle as it became clear to him that Dean wasn’t coming back. Even from the other side of the building or from inside, there was no way that Dean had not heard the commotion of such a large fight.

Something was stopping Dean from coming back to him.

“Risa,” he shouted over the din to the woman on his left. “Dean and Trish-”

“I know,” she interjected tersely, hacking the head off of a skeletally thin Croat in a tattered suit. “Retrieval? We’ve got this handled here as long as this all the fucking bastards around.”

“I’m going in,” Cas said quickly, slicing at a particularly bold (stupid) Croat trying to charge him. It crumpled to the ground and twitched once, and was still. Some of its companions fell on the body ravenously, and were subsequently cut down in turn as they began to tear at the corpse. “Leave as soon as you’re able; I’ve got the keys to the main truck. Cover your right,” he warned Risa, and, sensing an opportunity in the parting sea of Croats before him, ran.

He was through the service doors of the building before the Croat hoard could even begin to respond to his escape, and their noises were quickly muffled by the service door as it locked automatically behind him, leaving him in relative quiet.

There were a surprising number of crates and boxes remaining in the storage and unloading zones, either empty or nearly so, and he quickly ascertained the area was, apart from himself, devoid of life or anything of interest to the camp.

Cas.

Dean's sudden prayer hit him like a sledgehammer to the gut.

Aisle... his mental voice trailed off for a second into indistinct sounds, colors, and waves of pain. Aisle seven. It's bad.

Cas shoved through the access door into the freezers, and out into the store with a recklessness he would have been ashamed of had he been so terrified.

He turned down aisle seven and skidded to a halt, frozen at the sight that greeted him, and tried to make sense of the hideously macabre tableau.

Trish's decapitated body lay the furthest from him, her ribcage torn open, her organs spilling over her arms and scattered in pieces over the floor. Three dead Croats, all headshots, around her remains. Then a bloody lake on the cheap linoleum tile, thick and viscous and so, so red, two more dead Croats, clearly more hard-won victories, their arms hacked at, heads partially removed, and nearly blocking the last body from view, wedged up against the shelves and bloody as it was.

"Cas," Dean wheezed, lifting his head laboriously to meet his eyes, blood bubbling up between his lips and staining them. "Cas, I'm so sorry-"

"No, no, don't talk like that," Cas said desperately, kneeling beside Dean. He took their pack of his back with shaking hands and shoved his angel blade somewhere inside. "We can fix this. You'll be okay."

"Cas-"

"You will!" he said, too loudly and startling himself.

"My ribs," Dean panted out in pained little gasps. "Broken. There's something in my back." He twitched minutely as if to show Cas the problem and immediately convulsed involuntarily at the pain the movement caused him, a horrible rattling moan in his throat. "My leg. Right one. Broken too." His jaw was clenched so tightly it was a miracle he could speak at all through the teeth-grinding pain he was in.

"Okay," Cas said faintly.

Cas...

Oh, he hated feeling. Sometimes he thought it made him useless. He missed being cold. Brutal, uncaring about pain or death. But this was Dean, and he'd never actually been particularly good at being a machine, anyway. "Okay. Dean, I need to see your back," he warned him, before moving him as gently as he could and angling his body so that he could get an unobstructed view of his back.

There was a crude metal stake wedged just an inch to the left of his second and third thoracic vertebrae, rusted, twisted and cruel-looking.

"Dean, I- I have to try to heal you," he said slowly, knowing that Dean wouldn't want him to be wasteful with his Grace. But this was beyond what human field medicine could help.

Dean didn't respond. He'd fallen unconscious.

"Oh no, no, no, baby," he babbled under his breath, trying to figure out the best way to extract the bar of metal. "Hold on," he muttered, grasping the stake firmly and bracing Dean's body against his own, trying to avoid fucking his broken ribs up more.

"Father, please, if you're still here, if you're listening, if you care at all," he begged, "help me."

Of course, his Father didn't answer. Gritting his teeth, Cas yanked out the stake and tossed it aside, immediately covering the wound with his hand. He summoned his Grace together and it responded sluggishly, but his hand was glowing and Dean's back was knitting back together.

As the skin merged into a puckered, raw-looking pink scar, Cas dropped his hand away from the wound and found himself utterly breathless, gasping for air and drained.

Dean was still unconscious.

He leaned Dean back up against the shelving and took a moment to figure out what to do next. Dean was still dying. He was still in danger. He couldn't be moved, nor could they stay put. He quickly opened up their pack and realized in horror that all the medical supplies were with Risa and AJ on the trucks and so, so far away by now.

He yanked his coat off with a twinge of regret. It was bloodied and worn and what he was about to do with it felt like a milestone he was loathe to reach.

He shredded it into long, wide strips, not letting himself think of how it was the last piece of Jimmy Novak, or how he had repaid the man's sacrifice by being party to the end of the world they both wanted to protect, or how Claire Novak had stopped praying to him weeks ago, now. He got on with the job, this is just a job, I can fix this-

He managed to wrap Dean's leg up decently tight, straight and stiff, but he had quickly discovered it was broken in several places. He didn't know what he could do for Dean's ribs, and he felt, as if from a distance, how Dean's breath was coming shallower and shallower, and he made his choice.

He laid his left hand on Dean's broken leg, as gently as he could. Leaning forward, he smoothed the wispy little baby hairs he loved to tease Dean about back, off his sweaty, pained, precious face, and, placing his right hand on Dean's crushed ribs, near his heart, touched their foreheads together. He looked at Dean's soul, his shining, beautiful (fading) soul and knew.

"I love you," Cas whispered, his voice wrecked. With that finally said, he grabbed his exhausted, weary Grace, and though it fought him and slipped through his grasp, he got hold of it and he pushed everything he could, everything he was into his hands, into Dean.

When he had done it, when he had drained himself down to mists and vapors, and had saved Dean, he gathered him in his arms, and carried him back to the truck on numb feet, leaving the scraps of Jimmy's coat behind in aisle seven.

When the truck broke down thirty miles from Chitaqua, and their radio too, he turned to Dean, pulling on a blue-ish jacket they'd picked up earlier during the run. It fit well.

"It's a good look for you," Dean said gruffly, staring at Cas with an expression he could not recognize. There was blood still smeared on his cheekbone, he noted absently.

"Oh. Yes. Well, thank you," Cas answered, adjusting the sleeves.

Dean tugged at the tan fabric strips on his leg, wincing at the pressure.

"You did a good job, Cas. With this fabric splint from your coat-"

"I know you won't be able to walk it," Cas said quietly, unable to meet his eyes even as he interrupted him. "I did what I could, but you'll be weak for days. You need time."

"You can leave me, Cas," Dean said, a strange, pinched guilt-pain-tenderness on his face. "You can come back for me."

"No," Cas said, smiling, and choking, and took Dean's cheek in the palm of his hand with a terrible ache rising in his throat. "I can't."

April 19th, 2012, under the peak of the Lyrids meteor showers, Cas flew for the last time, right up to the gates of the camp.

When they landed, a millisecond and millennia later, his wings burned away into nothingness in a wave of electric, minty-white pain that forced him to the ground. In the aftermath, panting and sweating and shaking in Dean's arms and clutching at his handprint on Dean's shoulder, he realized his Grace, or what was left of it, anyway, had consolidated into a bright little ball in his chest. Like a soul.

The realization was followed by another. Despite his earlier conviction that it would one day be lost to him, he could still see Dean's soul- behind his teeth, in his chest, radiant like a halo around his head, and worth, a million times over, and a million again, falling for.

Tagged:

@heller-jensen @sunforgrace @rambleoncas @adhdeancas @evermorecastiel @holmesemrys @plantdadcas @good-things-do-happen-dean @jeanne-de-valois @autisticandroids @sonder-stars @yana125 @faithcastiel @cascreamtiel @seffersonjtarship @i-sing-for-me @purgatorybi @bibelphegor @cowboyslikedean @gracefuldean @dimples-of-discontent @judaskissdean @wafflehousegothic @icaruscastiel @67chevyimpala67 @lesbianjenderenvy

#destiel #destiel fic #endverse!destiel #endverse!cas #not immune to endverse cas i repeat not immune vaccine needed now #my fic #my writing #dean winchester #castiel

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ruzek-halstead · 3 years

Text

step into my world

pairing: luke patterson x julie molina

written based on the prompt:

"my roommate dragged me out to this off-campus party and then immediately abandons me for the person they’ve been flirting with in class, but you ask if i want to be your partner in beer pong"

university au

masterlist || ao3

"Get up, underachiever! We're going to a party!"

Julie groaned from her place under the covers. It was late and she was already tucked away for the night. In her university experience, she always managed to tinkle with her schedule enough to always have Friday's off. But this semester, she ended up having a full course load, and three of the classes fell on Friday.

She was absolutely exhausted and all she wanted to do was continue sleeping, so she could do literally nothing but watch Netflix for the remainder of her weekend.

But her roommate and (current questionable) best friend was not having any of it.

"Carrie just texted me. There's a party at this frat on campus. We have to go!"

Julie let out another loud groan.

"We don't have to do anything. You can go. You're probably going to hang out with Carrie the entire time anyway."

After a brief moment of silence, the blanket that was tucked tightly under her neck was violently ripped away and she was hit with an instant wave of cool air. “I won’t, I promise!” Flynn implored.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Your lack of confidence in me is truly offensive,” Flynn replied, placing a hand over her heart to emphasize her exaggeration. “Babe, come on. You need a night out!”

Julie sighed but her wall of defence was starting to crumble. “I’m just so tired, Flynn,” she moaned.

“If you come with me tonight, I promise I’ll spend the entire weekend with you doing whatever you want. Even if it’s literally nothing.”

Flynn looked so hopeful, so excited and Julie didn’t have the heart to tell her bestie no. So, she relented and nodded her head. Flynn squealed and jumped on top of her and Julie could only laugh and try to keep her organs from getting pushed on.

“You are the best,” Flynn told her, but Julie already knew that. “But we need to fix this.”

"Uh — that's rude."

Flynn sent her a sweet smile, but the underlying glint in her brown eyes indicated the slight mischief underneath. "I say this with love, Jules. But you look like a mess right now, and we can't have that. What if you meet someone?

"You're just buttering me up because you're going to ditch me as soon as you see Carrie," Julie rolled her eyes and pushed Flynn off of her.

Flynn had the decency to look slightly sheepish. "But I mean, have you seen her?"

"Yeah, yeah," Julie shrugged her off, but deep down, she was unbelievably happy for her best friend. And it was truly the only reason she was accompanying her to this party tonight. Parties weren't really her scene, but Flynn loved them, so every once in a while, she made an effort to attend. And other times, such as today, Flynn either bribed or guilted her to attend.

By the time Flynn forced Julie out of bed, it was already on the later side (but university parties started late and ended late anyway). With Flynn rushing her, she didn't have much time to get ready so she quickly chose an outfit and applied a layer of mascara and some lip gloss. Her outfit consisted of a pair of black ripped jeans, a soft white long-sleeve cropped shirt and she paired it with white converse. It was a nice outfit considering she put it together within ten minutes.

Julie recognized the frat house as one she'd been to before. A few of Carrie's friends were members of the frat, so whenever they threw a party, Flynn always dragged her along. When they walked in, the music was blaring, there were people everywhere and Julie did her best to keep her cool.

Flynn grabbed her hand and dragged her along when she spotted her (almost?) girlfriend Carrie. Julie recognized the group she was with; they were all in the same music program, but they ran in different groups. It was only because of Flynn that she was starting to see them more and more often.

If she was completely honest, she'd noticed them before. She knew Carrie's three friends were in a band and she'd checked out a few of their gigs before. She'd see Luke a lot at the coffeeshop she liked to study at, and honestly, she thought he was gorgeous. Every time she saw him, he was always smiling, but what really sucked her in was when she first heard him perform and listened to his voice; she was blown away. From there, she started to notice him around campus more often, but she was shy and he was outgoing and she could never bring herself to actually talk to him.

But now, he was right across the room and she was being dragged in his direction.

"Flynn! I'm so happy you could make it!" Carrie cheered, shooting Flynn a coy smile and wrapping her in a hug. They were so adorable, Julie couldn't help but smile. "Jules! I see she dragged you out again."

Julie returned her playful grin. "She's very convincing when she bargains."

"Well, I'm not sure if you've all met," Carrie continued, referencing to the three boys around her. Reggie was chugging his red solo cup and Alex and Luke were quietly whisper-arguing. "This is Alex, Luke and Reggie. They're in this tiny band no one really likes. I think it's called Sunset Swerve or something."

Alex and Luke instantly snapped out of their argument, and the three of them chorused, "Sunset Curve!" in annoyed and whiny tones.

"Yeah, that's what I said," Carrie waved them off, turning back to Flynn. "Hey, I was wondering if we could talk?"

Julie peeked over at Flynn, who seemed to pale slightly. There were very few times Julie had seen Flynn lose her cool, and this happened to be one of them. When Flynn looked over at Julie for approval (since Julie really hated being left alone at parties), Julie nodded enthusiastically and shot her friend a supportive smile.

"Go ahead!" She encouraged with a nod. "I'll just be around."

"Don't worry!" Reggie interrupted, wrapping an arm around Julie's shoulders. She jumped slightly in surprise but he honestly looked like he wouldn't even hurt a fly, and she felt oddly comfortable. "We'll take good care of her!"

Feeling satisfied, Flynn walked off with Carrie. Julie was already dying to know the details of that conversation, but she'd have to wait. Reggie had already removed himself from her, promising to get them all a round of drinks. But Alex and Luke were still whispering to each other, and Julie felt unbelievably awkward, so she started retreating slowly.

Luke caught her eye and immediately stepped closer. "Hey, where are you going?"

She was sure she looked like a deer caught in headlights because she didn't expect them to notice, much less care. And she definitely didn't expect Luke (the stranger she's had a crush on from a distance for months now) to actually talk to her.

"Yeah! We're supposed to keep you company," Alex added, smiling cheerily. His easy going attitude helped her relax.

"Oh, sorry," she mumbled, blushing. "I just thought —"

Alex shook his head, grabbing her wrist to pull her closer. "Nonsense. We would love to get to know you. Jules, is it?"

"It's Julie, actually," she replied. From her other side, Luke was watching their interaction intently. His hot gaze made her nervous, but she fought to ignore it and not make a fool of herself. "You all are in the music program too, right?"

From the corner of her eye, she noted Luke's surprised and slightly impressed expression.

"Yeah!" Alex smiled. "I'm mostly in instrument classes right now; I play the drums. What about you?"

"Composition, mostly," Julie responded. The fact that Luke had yet to say anything since calling for her attention was still unnerving to her. "I'm starting vocal classes next semester."

Alex glanced at Luke, but when he didn't say anything, he rolled his eyes. Unbeknownst to Julie, Luke was a little starstruck and a whole lot speechless. "So is Luke!" He jabbed him with his elbow and Luke whined in response. "He' s our lead singer. He's okay, I guess."

Luke shot Alex a dirty glare and returned his gaze to Julie, and for the first time since they'd starting talking, she didn't tear her eyes away from his. "Have you uh — have you seen us play at all?"

"Yeah, I have," Julie nodded, fighting off the blush she could feel crawling up her neck. "A few times, actually. You guys are really good, by the way.”

A slow, but breathtaking smile spread onto Luke’s face. Alex watched on in amusement.

“Hey, Patterson!” Luke whirled around when his name was called. Another member from the frat was hollering at him from the beer pong table. “Want to tag in? Grab a partner!”

Before Luke had even turned back to face them properly, Alex was already tagging out. “The answer is no,” he stated defiantly, then leaned in to whisper to Julie, “He yells at me every time I miss.”

“You miss all of them!”

“I’m not good at throwing things!”

“Then why do you even p — You know what? Never mind. Julie, you in?”

At Luke’s invitation, her eyes widened and she nearly choked on her own spit. “Uh — me? Are you sure? I’ve never played, I’m probably not any good.”

“Something tells me he won’t yell at you like he does at me,” Alex commented, smirking wildly.

Luke shut him up with a glare. “It’ll be fun!”

“Yeah, okay,” Julie relented.

She was here anyway, may as well have a good time. Plus, her super attractive crush was the one requesting her assistance so how could she possibly turn that down?

“Have fun, you two!” Alex shouted behind them. When Julie peeked behind her, he was still smirking.

“Just ignore him,” Luke mumbled, and Julie jumped when she realized he was whispering in her ear. He placed a gentle hand on her back to guide her on which end of the table they were supposed to go. “You ready?” He asked with a wolfish smirk.

Julie glanced at Luke, the cups set up on the table, and the two frat boys they were playing against. “No, not at all. Can you explain this to me, please?” She asked quietly in embarrassment.

“Hey,” Luke ducked to meet her eyes. “Don’t be embarrassed, this is just for fun! You just want to throw this ball,” he held a white ping pong ball in the palm of his hand, “into any of those cups.”

Julie looked at the ball and up into Luke’s eyes. He was smiling and she was filled with a surge of confidence. “I’m ready. Let’s do it.”

Luke held his palm closer to her. “You’re up first, Brown Eyes.”

Julie barely even minded the newfound nickname because she was so focused in aiming for the cups. The chances it would go disastrously were pretty high, but Luke was so supportive and chanting positive things in her ear, so she ignored it all.

When she threw the first ball, she missed horribly.

“You’re already doing better than Alex!” Luke laughed, touching her wrist comfortingly.

She was embarrassed but he didn’t seem to mind her failure.

Luke took the next shot, and of course, he nailed it. The opposing team missed both their shots, and it made her feel a tiny bit better.

“You just have to relax,” Luke told her, in a soft and comforting voice. “Just relax your shoulders and focus on one cup.”

She followed his direction, and she could hardly believe her eyes when she actually sunk a cup. The crowd that had formed around them cheered, but all Julie could focus on was Luke’s excited laughter, and she found herself throwing her arms around his neck in excitement. Mortified, she pulled away. “Oh God, I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” Luke replied, smiling softly. “You did great!” He managed to sink another cup, but so did their opponents. Luke picked up the cup and offered it to Julie. “Do you want me to drink it?”

But Julie was on a high, so with a confident smirk, she grabbed the red cup and gulped it down as fast as she could. She could feel it dribbling down her chin and she squeezed her eyes closed to help with the unpleasant taste. Luke was more impressed than ever, but also slightly concerned, as her reaction didn’t strike him as the type that drank often.

He placed a hand on her waist and leaned in to catch her eyes. “Hey, you okay? You good?”

“I’m fantastic,” Julie replied, slamming the cup down with a newfound ferocity. She grabbed the ball out of his hand and sank another cup.

In quite possibly one of the quickest rounds of beer pong Luke had ever played, they were nearing the end with two cups left to sink, whereas their opponents still had four. It seemed as if Julie had awakened, and she was having the time of her life; Luke loved watching her so carefree and happy. He didn’t know her too well, but seeing this side of her only made it clearer to him that he wanted to get to know her more.

They had the chance to end the game once and for all, but Julie had missed her previous shot and her confidence was wavering.

“You got this, Jules,” Luke cheered quietly in her ear. They’d each downed quite a few beers, and it was safe to say he was officially a bit tipsy. It didn’t help that she was so beautiful and looking amazing; his mind just wouldn’t stop.

When she made the shot with ease, he realized the pressure was all on him.

He also realized that he might actually be in love with this girl.

“You’re amazing. Will you go out on a date with me?”

Luke ended up blurting out these words to an unsuspecting Julie, and this time, she really did choke on her spit.

But the beer had gone straight to her head, and she was feeling a bit spacey. Her brain wasn’t connecting with her mouth and she wasn’t able to form an answer in an appropriate timely manner.

The crowd was cheering so Luke awkwardly grabbed the ball to make his (possibly) last shot. Julie could see the hesitance in his eyes, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty.

So, she leaned her hands on Luke’s shoulder to lower him to her height and she placed her lips close to his ear. “If you make this shot, I’ll go out with you.” Then she placed a kiss on his cheek before backing off.

He turned to her with wide eyes and a surprised smile.

“That really lessened the pressure,” he teased, and was delighted when she blushed.

The pressure was really on now. If he could make this shot, it would be incredibly impressive. Not only to him and Julie, but to the crowd that had accumulated around them.

Luke took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment and took the shot. It felt like slow motion, and it was only when he heard the crowd cheering that he realized he sunk the ball, and subsequently, won the game.

Julie cheered from his side, and when he turned to face her, he was ready to catch her when she threw her arms around his neck this time. “That was amazing! Thank you for asking me to do this!”

He held her for a moment longer, but eventually parted. As new teams formed for the next round, he grabbed her hand and pulled her off to the side. “Are you okay? You drank quite a lot in such little time. Are you feeling okay?”

Julie’s heart warmed at his concern. “I’m feeling really good right now, Luke.”

“And did you really mean what you said?” He asked shyly. “About the date, I mean.”

Julie’s smile widened. “Yeah, I did. Ever since I saw you perform with your band, I’ve sort of had this thing for you.” Realizing what she said, her eyes went wide. “Wait — I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that.”

“You have?”

And to Julie’s surprise, and slight discomfort, he started laughing.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” He interrupted, realizing what his actions caused. “It’s just — I’ve seen you at the coffeeshop so many times and I just always thought you were really beautiful, and I knew you were Flynn’s friend but I didn’t want to say anything because well, I’m really not good with rejection. So, this is weirdly hilarious to me right now. That what Alex and I were talking about earlier. He knows, obviously, and wouldn't stop teasing me.”

Julie started laughing with him.

“So tonight was what? Fate?”

Luke’s gaze burned into her eyes. “Whatever it was, it was perfect timing.”

“Yeah, I’d agree.”

At the intensity of his gaze, she could feel herself rising up on her tiptoes and leaning forward. His eyes were so captivating, and the way his lips twisted into a soft grin was just too much for her slightly inebriated brain.

Julie just really wanted to kiss him.

Luke met her halfway, pressing his lips softly against hers. As soon as their lips met, Julie’s hand rested on Luke’s chest and a satisfied sigh left her mouth. They were still in public, and Julie was never a fan of PDA, so she pulled away shortly after. But looking into Luke’s eyes again, and his adorable smile, she couldn’t help but lean in to kiss him again.

“I fucking knew it!”

The two of them could faintly hear Alex’s loud voice over the party, but they both ignored it.

“Where’s Flynn? FLYNN! Look at what our children are doing!”

hope you enjoyed!

tagging: @grootsgillespie || @jayhalsteadcpd || @moreflowersthanweeds || @well-hes-just-too-cute || @only-trust-fictional-characters || @leopard-print-slippers || @jandthephantoms || @echocharm17618

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monsterfuneral · 3 years

Text

the summer of 1988 | the lost boys

Relationship: Poly!The Lost Boys x Fem!Reader

Summary: Revenge is a dark and dangerous road to go down, especially when the people you seek revenge against are all vampires.

Words: 4.5k

Warnings/Tags: Kidnapping, surf nazis, child endangerment but no child injury, brief descriptions of torture and injury from torture, blood, weapons, just general violence tbh, angst, swearing, Star says fuck, fluff/comfort at the end

Author’s Note: This took way to long to actually finish but I’m happy that it’s finally here. This is something I’ve been working on since late November/early December thanks to writers block so hopefully it actually turned out okay

REQUESTS OPEN

(please read my “I do NOT write” section before sending in anything <3)

---

The boardwalk was probably the most quiet you had seen in weeks. There were no exciting shows being hosted on the beach or any new rides to visit, and it being a Monday close to closing hours made it so the boardwalk was a lot less crowded than usual. The only people that you had seen tonight were groups of teenagers that left early on in the night, not risking being caught by their unknowing parents as they broke curfew with their friends. By default though it made business in the record shop sluggish, giving you the opportunity to organize the records that were going to be put on the shelves in the morning.

You had just sat back down on the stool behind the counter when the bell above the door rang. Your boyfriends and their smallest companion came walking through one by one. Paul was the first to greet you with a flirtatious smile as he leaned over the counter to ask you what you’d suggest he buy.

You playfully rolled your eyes and said “Yeah, like you have the money.” making Marko and David Chuckle from where they stood behind the other blonde.

The boys left Laddie in your care while they went off to feed, obviously not wanting to take the young human with them to witness their brutal feeding routine. So you put on a record that Laddie had come to love thanks to Paul, and turned the volume up a little louder than it usually would be during work hours. He sat on your stool swinging his legs back and forth while bopping his head along to the hypnotic guitar solo of ‘Don’t Fear The Reaper’. He watched you go through the bins and organize any of the records that had been misplaced throughout the day. Waiting for you to finally clap your hands softly announce that you both were finally free to go. Laddie smiled up at you after you ruffled a hand through his hair and shrugged his overnight bag onto your shoulder.

The two of you were having a casual conversation about a new comic he had gotten from Sam when a guy approached you. He was an unpleasantly familiar face, a member of the surf Nazi’s that took a liking to coming into the record shop and bothering you on occasion with pathetic attempts at flirting. It was no surprise he singled in on you and started walking up to you with a confident swagger that he certainly would not have if the boys were standing behind you. He was as unpleasant as ever, complimenting your outfit that consisted of an old leather jacket that used to belong to David, ripped jeans, and an old band shirt that had a rip at the collar. You looked at him tiredly and attempted to weave your way out of the conversation but he simply would not budge. Laddie clutched the back of your jacket anxiously, waiting for the intimidating man to finally move on. You had to suppress the eyeroll that threatened to come forth when he started talking about how ‘killer’ the waves were today, his smile big as he gestured out towards the sparkling ocean.

“Listen man,” You started, looking back up at the surf Nazi- Derek you think he said his name was- grabbing Laddie’s hand and gently pushing him further behind you protectively “I really gotta go okay? My friends are waiting for me at the entrance and will totally come looking for me if I don’t go.” You hoped he didn’t call you out on your bullshit. You just wanted to go home and change into something more comfortable and give Laddie some actual food to eat that wasn’t boardwalk cotton candy.

Just like always when he would come around, you got a disgusting gnawing feeling in your stomach, a feeling that told you to run, run, get the fuck out of there. This time though it felt like it had been cranked up to ten. You anxiously glanced around at the other shops. The walkway you were practically cornered in was entirely empty thanks to the boardwalk getting ready to close down for the night. Laddie reached to tug on your hand silently making you look down.

Your other hand inched closer and closer to your jacket pocket, where you had a switchblade tucked into just in case something like this were to ever happen. The inevitable moment where you’d have to protect yourself and Laddie from any oncoming danger. The rising tension between your boyfriends and the surf Nazis didn’t exactly help either, not that you could blame them.

“Oh come on babe stay a little longer. Me and my buddies were actually about to go get something to eat, you should join us!” He insisted, his attempt at a sweet smile only seeming more and more sinister the longer you stuck around.

You frowned and raised a brow before shaking your head “No man, I really do gotta go. I’ve had a long day and I’d really just like to leave, and like I said my friends are waiting for me.”

He raised his hands up in surrender, his smile not faltering “Hey no problemo. Maybe next time right, honey?” You had to suppress the disgusted shudder at the pet name. He stepped aside with his hands behind his back and let the two of you go, you sighed and brought Laddie closer to your side, continuing your journey to the parking lot a little faster this time.

Once at your car you unlocked it and opened the back door, dropping the Laddie’s overnight bag onto the messy back seat and shutting the door, the sound echoing through the mostly empty parking lot.

You heard feet shuffling behind you but brushed it off, assuming it was just Laddie walking to the other side of your car. Until you felt a hand clap down on your shoulder and slam you against the drivers side door. Your cheek was pressed against the cold metal of your car and you shivered when you felt a puff of warm air on your skin.

“I thought you said your friends were waiting for you?” A harsh voice whispered against the shell of your ear. His body kept you pinned to your car leaving you with very little wiggle room, but you were able to dig through your pocket and fish out your knife, clicking it open and blindly stabbing behind you. His hand came around to try and grab your arm but you were able to knick him in the process, the sharp blade slicing across the top of his hand and then through the skin of his forearm making him yelp in surprise, hissing as he clutched the wounds that now had blood bubbling to the surface.

“You bitch!” He growled, his now bloodied hand burying itself in your hair, pulling your head back and slamming your forehead harshly against your car door, your head gave an instant throb at the assault and black spots dotted your vision. You felt your knees hit the asphalt below, not even realizing you were falling by the time your head was resting on the ground. All you could make out in the haze of your blackening vision was Laddie’s beaten up shoes frantically running to your side of the car, towards the danger. You felt your heart pick up and you wanted to yell at him to stay put but no words came out, a pathetic squeak coming from your parted lips instead. You could hear the faint echo of his voice yelling at you to get up. Your eyes were starting to slip closed. All sound started to fade, the only thing left being a loud never ending ringing as your body felt colder and colder before everything went silent.

---

The smell of blood was thick in the air, dark red staining the sandy shore beneath their feet being the remaining evidence of what had happened just fifteen minutes prior. David flicks the remains of his cigarette into the flames and walks himself over to the water, attempting to clean off the drying blood before it cakes itself in his beard. He took his gloves off and stuffed them into his coat pocket so he could wet his hands and wash the blood from his face.

“We’re all ready to go.” Dwayne said from behind him, his voice as level and soothing as always, even after feeding. His leather jacket was zipped up, not bothering to clean himself off beyond his face. Unlike Paul and Marko who had taken to splashing each other while attempting to clean the blood from their own faces.

Something was off about tonight, he couldn't place what or how, it was just something. A feeling that’s been gnawing at his senses since he stepped into the record shop to drop Laddie off with you. At first it was barely there, like an itch he couldn’t scratch, but as the night dragged on it was getting harder to ignore.

David stood from his crouched position and pulled his gloves back over his fingers “Everything’s good?” He asked, not turning away from the water just yet.

“Whatever’s left will be picked up by the rain that’s rolling in later tonight.” Dwayne answered, staring out at the water with his friend and tilting his head back to look at the moon. It was almost completely full, beaming down on the group as the stars around it sparkled. He side-eyed David, seeing how stiff his body was, the occasional facial twitch as his brows threatened to draw together. They could all feel the shifting in the air, a thickening blanket of unease driving their senses crazy and the brunette could tell David was close to dropping the calm façade.

“Let’s get out of here already then!” Paul called from where he was standing in the water, itching to finally get to your apartment.

David gave one last sigh before taking one step backwards from the wave that barely grazed his shoe, finally tearing his eyes away from the water and coaxing himself out of his own head. Dwayne was already turning around and heading over to the line of bikes, trailing just behind the two blondes. With one last look at the fire, David set off with them too, his fingers already inching closer to his pack of cigarettes.

---

You couldn’t even tell how long you had been tied to this chair, time lost in the pain that pulsed through your entire body. It was hard to focus on anything else other than the loud sound of rushing blood in your ears, almost deafening now that you were left to stew in your pain. Derek had gone off deeper into the warehouse, weaving around the almost endless racks of stolen clothes, beat up chairs that had the stuffing half hanging out of the bottom, a coffee table that had three different ashtrays sat atop it. Next to the ash trays was a picture that had a faded picture of his friends tucked behind the broken glass. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it, your mind still reeling at his revelation earlier in the night.

He had slapped down an all too recognizable horror comic, the very same one Sam showed you a few months after Max was killed. Derek’s copy was worn down from constant reading and had sticky notes protruding from the tops of the pages. He angrily told you how he had been out on a beer run one night and came back to the boys throwing his friend’s mauled bodies into the very same bonfire he had lit up not even two hours beforehand. How he was left with no answers until he found ‘Vampires Everywhere!’.

Your whole body went rigid and cold, an acidic rock forming in your throat as you finally realized that he *knew*, he was all too aware of the boy’s undead status. Derek demanded you tell him the location of the coven’s hideout. When you wouldn’t budge he landed a blow on your jaw, your cheek, hell even your stomach wasn’t safe from his violent outburst. You were shaking from the pain by the time he was done, his fingernails biting into the skin of your cheeks as he forced you to look into his eyes and he asked once again.

“Where do those freaks hide out during the day?”

To which you replied a choked and raspy “Fuck… You.”

He was finally on his last nerve when he let out a strangled growl, pushing himself away from you, your face being forced to the side with his rough treatment, the force almost sending the old wooden chair you were tied in backwards. He stormed away, the thunk of his boots echoing loudly throughout the warehouse. Growing more and more distant until all you could hear was the radio that had so ironically been playing a Dead Kennedys song.

You were sent into overdrive, scraping the ropes harshly against a nail that was poking out of the rickety wooden chair he had decided to strap you too. Your shoulders ached from the hours of having your hands tied behind your back, but a little more pain was worth the inevitable escape. So you worked faster, bringing the rope closer to the wood and the nail, your fingernails digging into your palms as the rope started to burn your bare wrists, having hiked up the sleeves to your jacket.

Once you were finally up from the chair you ran over to the side table looking for something, anything you could use against Derek. You carefully moved the ashtrays and empty beer cans aside, fear gripping your throat so tight that you could hardly breathe. You let out a quiet frustrated sound as you came up short. There was nothing, no other tables, the whole room seemed to just be filled with useless junk, not a single weapon in sight.

You could hear the rope straining, sending your heart into your throat. The adrenaline coursing through you only escalated as you thought of Laddie and where he could possibly be in this place. You hadn’t seen him since being knocked out in the parking lot, but he had to be here. You could feel the rope tearing more and more until it finally gave one last loud snap, your burning wrists rubbed raw and red that ached to move. You grimaced as you urgently began untying the ropes around your ankles.

“Looking for this?”

You whipped around, Derek was standing at the entrance of the clothing rack maze, waving your own knife at you while holding Laddie against him with one arm secured over his chest. Laddie’s finger dug into Derek’s forearm, unable to push him away thanks to the loss of the strength he had as a half vampire. Derek tucked your knife in his back pocket and pulled Laddie closer to him. He shook his head and let out a long sigh, almost like you were a child that had misbehaved.

“I knew I should have tied you up with cords instead, too late now I guess.” He hit the side of his own head lightly with the palm of his hand, a smirk forming on his lips “How silly of me, right?”

You anxiously glanced back and forth from him and Laddie, the pit in your stomach was getting ready to swallow you whole at this point. Laddie looked at you fearfully, quietly muttering your name. You had to stop yourself from stepping closer out of instinct to comfort the child that you had grown so close to in the past year.

“I thought I’d give you a little more motivation… you know to tell me where your buddies like to hang.” He shifted the wooden stake into his other hand and scratched the side of his head with the sharpened tip, almost as a way to taunt you with his carelessness “You know since you wouldn’t tell me when I was hurting you I just thought why not break out the big guns right?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yelled, lip trembling “He’s just a child! He’s not even a vampire! He has nothing to do with any of this!”

“Oh sure he does! If he’s what gets me my answers then he has everything to do with this.” Derek chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, seemingly indifferent to the situation “I mean I don’t *want* to kill a kid but come on, you’re not really giving me any other choice here baby.”

The casual usage of the pet name made you want to gag. His eyes were staring you up and down hugging Laddie closer to his body and challenged you with an eye squint, as if saying *”come get him, I dare you.”*

You watched Derek’s every move, wishing just this once that you *were* a vampire. He dropped the hand that held the wooden stake down to his side, an angrier expression morphing on his features as he steps just a little closer. He was red in the face and a vein was starting to protrude from his neck, the visible anger was a lot scarier now that Laddie was in his arms, a ticking time bomb ready to explode any second.

“Well?” He asked, tone dark and steady, even with the anger that was so evident “What’ll it be sweet cheeks?”

Before you could even think up an answer a loud echoing boom sounded throughout the warehouse, making the three of your freeze. One rack of clothes after another was knocked to the ground with a loud clang while the wind whistled in the distance.

“It’ll be nothing, you fucking piece of shit.” Star growled out, pinning Derek to the concrete ground, the heel of her shoe digging harshly into the thin fabric of his muscle tank top. Her features were sharp and her yellow eyes were narrowed down at the much larger man. She didn’t even flinch when he tried to pry her leg off of him, sputtering under the pressure, unable to breathe. Her strength had definitely maximized since she transitioned to a full vampire with Michael, not so easily thrown around now that she had strength that almost rivaled David’s. So it was safe to say he was going nowhere unless she allowed him to.

Dwayne and David were the first ones to get to you. Dwayne swept Laddie up into his arms while David examined your bruised features, “You’re gonna be okay.” He said softly, cupping under your chin gently, the leather of his gloves being a welcome coolness against your heated skin.

“Get them out of here,” Dwayne said to Michael, who was crouched next to Derek.

You could practically see the steaming anger roll off of the curly haired brunette in waves, knowing that over the year of him being a vampire he too had grown close to Laddie and saw him like a little brother who he felt the need to protect.

“Hope you guys are up for dessert.” David’s voice echoed throughout the warehouse unlike any of the other’s. He looked back at you, and just by how his eyes flashed yellow you knew Derek would probably be in pieces by the time the six of them were done with him.

They were all livid, and while David and Dwayne were the best at hiding it, Paul was not. He was fuming, practically foaming at the mouth as Marko had to hold him back from pouncing on Derek too early. After all he had threatened the life of their mate, and not only that but a child that was formerly a part of their coven as well, he had crossed all of the lines. Usually in hypothetical situations you had thought of you would always think Marko would be the angriest. But given how protective and clingy Paul could be, how he would practically purr at the mere sight of you, it made sense why he was most visibly angry out of the four of your boyfriends.

“Michael.” Dwayne said more firmly this time, finally setting Laddie back down onto his feet so he could nudge the other brunette a little too harshly with his foot. Michael glared up at him only for his features to soften when he looked at both you and Laddie. “Go” He didn’t have to say much else to convince Michael.

“Come on, let’s get you guys the hell out of here.” Michael urged, hoisting Laddie up on his back while you trailed closely behind, carefully walking over the fallen clothing racks.

The outside of the warehouse was no better than the inside. It was a junkyard of discarded furniture, cars, and who knows what else. Thankfully though it wasn’t cold or windy like it had been the past couple of nights. Instead the humidity was starting to set in, ready for the rain that was coming. Even with the sticky heat, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort now that you were outside, knowing that tonight could have had a much different outcome if the vampires had come any later.

“I scoped the area out with Marko so there aren’t any other surfers around.” Michael reassured, probably sensing your growing fear of the possibilities. “We won’t be long okay? I promise.” Michael squeezed your shoulder gently before letting Laddie off of his back, “You two stay put.”

It was nice seeing how much Michael had grown, how caring and protective he had become over the coven. While his relationship with the boys certainly had it’s rocky patches they eventually smoothed out. He was one of them and watching him fly back to the warehouse left you smiling for the first time since Derek had walked up to you on the boardwalk.

You looked down at Laddie, grabbing his hands gently and sitting both of you down on the grass beneath your feet. He seemed to be fine physically, and you were sure if Michael had smelled blood on him he would have said something.

Even then you still had to ask “He didn’t hurt you did he?” You gently moved some strands of soft hair from in front of his eyes, trying to get a better look at his face.

“No… but he hurt you though.” He answered sadly, turning the topic back on you.

You chuckled quietly, wincing at the pain that still radiated from your stomach “I’ll be fine. Nothing a little Neosporin won’t fix.” Laddie stuck his tongue out at the mere mention of the medical product. All too familiar with it after his countless mishaps falling off of Dwayne’s skateboard or down the cave stares after it rained.

“Ouch.” He muttered, shaking his head before giggling quietly. You smiled at him, pushing his shoulder gently before ruffling his hair.

---

The cave felt so still. With the events that had happened tonight you weren’t very hopeful when it came to things being business as usual. It wasn’t still in a comfortable way either, it was a restless ‘who’s going to cave and ask the questions first’ suffocating stillness. David was sat smoking in his chair as per usual while the rest of the boys stared around or at you almost like they were waiting to see if you were going to fall apart. Which at this point you weren’t entirely sure if you would or not either. In a way you were surprised how quiet the boys were. No fight sparked, nobody demanded answers from you, just silence accompanied by comforting touches and loving kisses. Even Star and Michael stayed behind, planning on staying for the next few nights just in case. You knew they would be paranoid going back home and leaving Laddie behind, who refused to leave without you.

Dwayne sat next to you, cleaning the dry blood from your face gently, while Paul clung to your other side remaining mindful of your other bodily injuries. Your hands still shook from the remaining adrenaline and your head was still pounding from the onslaught of abuse you had suffered while with Derek. He had been so insistent on getting to the boys, planning on going down any road he could just to avenge his friends.

All in all the night had been a complete shitshow. But at least you and Laddie were safe, whether you actually felt so or not was up to you. Tonight had been enough to shake you up for a while, and you knew any other interactions with future surf Nazis would surely bring up some unwanted memories.

Paul squeezed your hand, bringing you closer to his body when Dwayne finally finished cleaning you up. All of the bloodied rags discarded to the side to be taken care of tomorrow.

“What d’you think of me and the boys spending the night in your room.” Paul asked quietly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he strategically caged you in between his legs and against his chest. “So no big bad vamp slayers can get to our girl.” He attempted to tease, but it only served to turn your stomach.

It truly wasn’t something you had concerned yourself with, or thought anything of. Derek’s incessant visits to the record store had been short from unusual, if anything he was considered a regular right under the boy’s. But it wasn’t until tonight that you realized it was for a much deeper and sinister purpose, and it terrified you. He had talked in detail about how he had stalked you and your schedule for months, watching your every move on the boardwalk up until tonight. All of this just to get a shot at the boys, a shot he *knew* he would miss.

Plus you hated the idea of going to the boys over every little thing. You were a big girl who can handle her own business and you didn’t think it was something that concerned them. You didn’t want to rely on them for everything, that wasn’t something you ever wanted. If there was something you needed to take care of alone you were willing to do it, but with Derek’s extensive observation you had no chance of winning against him alone.

“Hey…” Dwayne muttered, fingers brushing gently under your chin to lift your head up “This isn’t your fault. You know that right?”

You nodded, not knowing how to respond verbally. His eyes were soft and understanding, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips before bringing your legs over his lap and scooting closer to both you and Paul. They didn’t want to leave you alone tonight, knowing you needed all the reassurance as possible right now. Especially with so much guilt weighing on your shoulders, you felt like you were seconds away from cracking. But the closer they got the less suffocated you felt. At this moment, you felt at home.

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schrijverr · 3 years

Text

Solidarity

This is about enby he/they Jon, who wants to wear a skirt to work, because they’re comfy. He confides in Tim, who agrees to help them. He does so by dyeing his hair purple.

It is completely based on the art of @fox-guardian, their Tim and all other TMA designs live in my mind rent free, so go check them out! The designs I used will also be linked in text for a better mental image

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none really, but tell me if I missed something or if you want me to tag anything!

A/N: this is my first time writing someone with multiple pronouns, if I can improve feel free to tell me, no obligations of course :D

~~~~~~~~

Jon was nervous, he was almost always nervous, but they had an impeccable mask. However, today he was even more nervous and it was showing through the cracks. They had finally put a non-binary flag sticker on his laptop.

They weren’t about to tell everyone at the office about it, the he/him pronouns for work suited them just fine for now and he didn’t want to go through the effort of explaining he/they pronouns to everyone, the flag was just for them.

Georgie had given him the sticker when they had come out to her. They lost contact soon after, but Jon had always appreciated the gesture. Until now he had been too afraid to stick it on something, because what if that object didn’t last and they wasted the sticker on that?

But now he had a brand new laptop and in a wave of courage they had put the sticker on it.

A decision he was now regretting, since they were walking into work and anyone could see it. Of course, the people who knew what the flag meant, would most likely be chill with it, but anyone would recognize it as a pride flag, even if they might not know which one.

He had tried to convince themself it didn’t matter, he was proud of who they were, had been for a long while.

But it was still scary.

They sighed and pushed open the door, quickly making his way to their desk where he tried to make the flag less noticeable by reorganizing their desk.

Luck was not on his side, however, because Tim made his way over to them. He greeted him and Tim smiled back: “Hi there, Jon. What are you reorganizing for? Trying to get that archivist job, ey?”

Jon couldn't help it, they froze. His hands stilled as they tried to come up with an excuse, but nothing came out. He just stared at Tim and waved their hands around helplessly. His actions made Tim frown and he asked: “Hey, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything's fine, Tim.” Jon answered, before, with a stroke of genius (not), they pushed a stack of paper in front of the flag.

The paper stack wasn’t near high enough to cover it and all it did was call attention to what Jon had been trying to hide. He cringed and looked at Tim to try and gauge his reaction to the sticker.

Tim glanced over and spotted the sticker, a look of understanding coming over his face. He could see the light fear in Jons eyes, so he went for a disarming smile as he said: “That’s cool. I, myself, am the B of the beautiful alphabet soup. Want me to change pronouns for you?”

Jon practically sagged with relief, their heart beginning to slow down again and he said: “No, I just use he/him in a professional setting, but, uhm, you know, thank you.”

“No problem.” Tim smiled, “Always good to know you’re not alone, right? Solidarity and all that.”

“Yeah.” Jon shyly returned the smile.

Later that day Tim ‘accidentally’ left his mug in front of the flag when he was talking to Jon and the next day a three striped flag could be found on Tims laptop. It wasn’t much, but it was support and that was comforting.

In the privacy of their own home Jon put on a skirt, he liked dressing like, what Georgie called, an elderly librarian, but it was comfortable and they wished he was comfortable enough to wear it to work.

They shook the thought off, no use in dwelling on the possibilities, after all, but it remained there in the back of his mind.

The next time they thought about it seriously, was when he actually got promoted. It came to them again when he realized that the Archives were mostly hidden away in the basement and didn’t get a lot of traffic. Wearing a skirt there was much less high risk, besides they would be working with Tim and Sasha, they both knew, and he had thought they’d seen a trans flag as the background for that annoying other guy, Martin, he thought his name was.

Still, they would have to walk through the building for a bit first, past the front desk in the main entrance hall and while Rosie was a sweet lady, she a nosy one too.

Jon shoved the thought away, but this time it fought harder when he tried to let go of it. They thought of it when his pants felt tight around their legs, when his tie wrapped around their throat and whenever Sasha walked past in a dress.

A few weeks into the organization of the Archives, Jon had made up his mind. They were gonna wear a skirt, but first he needed to be sure they would have at least one ally on his side.

They casually held back Tim at the end of the day. He looked surprised and asked: “Hey, what’s up boss?”

“Uhm, can I- can I ask you something?” Jon began.

He didn’t know if it was the body language or the hesitation that put Tim on high alert, but he straightened up a bit and answered: “Of course, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, per say.” they said, “I just have this idea, but before I do it, I want to ensure that I have someone taller to hide behind in case it goes wrong.”

“That is not helping, Jon. Is it those statements? Sasha says they’re all weird, they’re not getting to you too, are they?” Tim replied.

“Oh no, not at all. You know I don’t belief that nonsense.” Jon quickly assured him, then he hunched a bit over and mumbled: “I was just just thinking of wearing a skirt to work, since they’re comfortable, but, you know?”

They looked up and hoped Tim would understand. He saw how Tims concerned expression morphed into understanding, then his eyes glittered, before he got excited. He grinned: “I got the perfect idea, I will 100% cover you, boss. Just wait and I’ll text you when you can do it, alright? I got a plan.”

“Wha-? What’s the plan? Tim? Tim!” Tim was already gone.

Jon spend the next few days nervously. They had asked Tim a few times, but he had been waved away with a ‘don’t worry’ or a ‘you’ll see.’

Then on Tuesday morning, they got a text from Tim, simply reading: It’s time, meet me near the gates at 8:45.

Not wanting to stand outside in the outfit on his own for a while, Jon made sure to be there precisely on time and not a second later.

He had chosen a comfort outfit, since they suspected he was going to need it today. It was a long dark grey skirt, which they had paired with green socks, dress shoes with a small heel, an old green cardigan and his Mechanisms shirt.

They hadn’t even stood there for five seconds when a familiar voice called out: “Here, Jon!”

Looking over he saw Tim, but now with lilac hair that matched a sweater and a dress shirt he wore as much as possible. Right now it was a sweater day, he grinned when he saw Jons shocked face and ran up to them.

“A distraction, at your service, boss.” Tim did a lazy salute, before he started to lead Jon inside.

Jon was speechless for a moment, then they said: “You didn’t have to do all that for me, isn’t that a dress code violation?”

“Old Elias won’t care, besides if they yell at me for it, it’s only less attention on you.” Tim waved his worries away, “And I did have to do it. To be honest, I’ve always wanted to dye my hair, but never found a reason to try a violate dress code, but this was just a perfect excuse.”

“Thank you, Tim, really. It means a lot.” Jon told him sincerely.

“No worries, solidarity, am I right.” Tim told them.

They walked in to the Institute together and the first thing Jon heard was Rosie calling out: “Tim, your hair! I love it, dear.”

Internally Jon smiled: Solidarity.

#RR writing #jonathan sims #jon sims #tim stoker #tim stoker and Jon Sims #Tma #the magnus archives #the magnus pod #the magnus archive season 1

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