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everyhowlmarksthedead · 3 years

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friends? no.

HANK ‘TRANQ’ LOZA.

MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ request by @queenbeered: Dear Aurora, you gorgeous, amazing queen. I absolutely love your prompts list, so many fun ideas and I can't wait to see what you come up with. Can I please request number one on your smut list with Hank? Need some big guy in my life. 😘😘😘

❝ prompt: “Friends? No, I don’t think so. Friends don’t know the way you taste”.

❝ words: about 1.2k.

❝ warnings: nsfw, unprotected sex, mention of bodily fluids, language.

❝ a / n: as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

“Friends?”

Tranq hasn't given you a chance to welcome him when his question has been launched as soon as you've opened the front door of your house. He has a shoulder rested against the frame, frowning. His chest falls and rises a little bit furious, breathing through his nostrils as he glances at you. Needing a couple of seconds to figure out what he is talking about, you tilt your head like a confused dog, sticking out the spoon stained with ice cream from your mouth.

“You told Mariela we are friends?”

“Oh, oh… oh”. Now you get it. “Aren't we?”

“Friends? No, I don’t think so. Friends don’t know the way you taste”.

Hank comes in without needing an invitation, grabbing the spoon to throw it somewhere and kicking the door close. He's angry. He's going to put it on you and you aren't going to complain. Briefly squatting, he places his huge and strong hands around the back of your thighs, to push you onto his body. Tranq collides his lips on yours, invading your mouth with his playful and keen tongue, drinking a raspy gasp that borns in your throat.

Yes, you told that girl that you were only friends because you weren't anything else than relief for each other in the small hours. You've been in love with him ever since —I mean, how couldn't you? You let him enter your life, you helped him whenever he needed it, but you weren't expecting him to have the same sentiments. Apparently, you have been wrong the whole time.

The Mexican sits on your sofa keeping you on your lap, as his hands squeeze your ass with so much desire contained about to show you what's the real thing between the two of you. “Stopped being friends the first time you moaned my name, sweetheart”.

Hank is so hard under the rough fabric of his jeans that the friction is causing your brain to collapse. He is forcing you to swing your hips, needing to hear those sweets noises you can't control anytime he gives you all his attention. Commonly, he's the lovable man on earth. He worships you —your body—, he takes his time, he pushes your limits with so much tenderness that you can't live without him anymore. But your insecurities have killed you anytime you've compared yourself with Mariela. An exuberant woman with charisma and power beaming. How could you compete against her?

The metallic noise his belt being undone provokes brings you back to reality. The sweetest melody on earth. Pulling yourself away with a lack of oxygen more than evident, you stand up on your bare feet to strip yourself. It doesn't take you too long, at all times under his lustful dark gaze, watching you toss your t-shirt somewhere and pull your panties down by your thighs. Tranq only rolls his jeans and boxers to his ankles; he knows about that kink you have of being fully naked for him while he's still on that leather kutte you love.

“Com'ere”. He demands whilst pumping himself with his right hand, using the left to grab your wrist and push you on top of him.

You can't help but giggle in a low tone, cutting off your laughs with an unexpected deep thrust. He has pressed your body down, practically impaling you with all his length. And he is big. He's too big. You normally need a couple of seconds to adjust your walls to his hard dick, but this time Hank is mad, very mad at you. The bitter sensation he has been carrying the whole day from one side to another because you said you are only friends, has made him feel angrier as the time has passed by till meeting you again.

He doesn't let you breathe. He doesn't let you mold your soaked pussy to his thickness. He forces you to swing your hips back and forth, dancing and bouncing over his cock. His huge fingers are nailed in your skin as he has reclined his back on the sofa, having a better view of your breasts jumping slightly with every move. Tranq loves every inch of your body, but these two are his favorite part. He could spend hours sleeping on them —or sucking, biting, licking, playing with them.

As his chest falls and rises breathless, his grunts fill your living room creating a filthy song with your moan and your pleas. Putting your hands on both sides of his neck, leaning forward a little, you devour his lips as the pace becomes faster and deeper. There's no man who can make you feel this good, this fill, this satisfied. There's no man who can give you the pleasure Tranq gives you. You both know it. And there's no man who can treat you better than him —with so much carelessness, love and adoration.

You know you won't last for too long as every pound is well-aimed to your g-spot, making you cry out his name whenever he forces you to go more downward. He knows exactly what he's doing. Giving you a lesson. Making you desire him more and more, so you won't dare again in your life to say that you're only friends.

And before you can react, Tranq has turned your bodies in such a master move, pinning your back to the sofa without pulling himself out from you. Now, he's between your legs, buried deep inside you as much as he can. A hand pulling your hair, five fingers gripping your throat, a tongue invading your mouth and his twitching huge cock splitting your tight cunt in two. Your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, while Tranq continues drinking your begs asking for more, and more, and more.

You're closer than you think of cumming, not needing anything else in life right now. And as his pushes become rougher, hitting your guts with no mercy, you let yourself go with a loud and pleased whining.

“Shit… that's it, preciosa… cream my dick… c'mon”. Hank grunts onto your ear, not stopping until he can release his own seed straight to your soul.

You feel filled by a warm sensation, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him down; inside you, deeper. That's the best sensation after a quickly with him. Spend some more seconds with Tranq balls-buried into you, with all his weight over your body as he tries to catch back his breathing. Then, the soft mood comes back. He's not annoyed anymore, although he's still not understanding why you said what you said. Hank spreads sloppy kisses all around your face, tiredly stroking the sides of your thighs while he goes just a little more deeper causing you to moan against his neck.

“You feel it, ah?” He whispers huskily, caressing your ear with the tip of his nose. “This dick is only yours… Can you feel it, mi amor?”

You nod your head exhausted, tightening the grip around his waist. You want him closer. You want to melt your bodies into the same anatomy. You need him all the time; physical and psychologically. It's something that you can't explain, but you can't get rid of either.

“Good… Don't make me explain it twice”.

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MAYANS MC: @multiyfandomgirl40 @countryash345 @skyofficialxx @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @oscars-wifeyyy @meteora-fc @lozaa94 @arveeee @joupym @hanster1998 @missswritings @arana-alpha @lucillewinchester @theocatkov @telfordlowmans @tclaerh @aurelie-celine

#tranq loza x reader #hank tranq loza x reader #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

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v e l o c i t y - chapter ix

The one where John’s your true mate, but he doesn’t want you to be his.

In a universe where fate grants you a new mate whenever you lose yours, John has lived quite comfortably for many years with the knowledge that he was alone after Mary. That all comes crumbling down the second that he meets you. How could the universe choose someone so young to be his omega?

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N: Okay so, my bad. One more chapter after this one!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I had a hard time sleeping since that night in the laundry room. Well, it was hard to go to bed alone, knowing only one wall separated me from John, knowing the only thing missing for him to claim me was time. He needed time to get over the image of me as a child, accept that I was another person, a woman now - and his mate. And I needed to find some sort of patience to hold onto while he got there.

That didn’t mean I was a saint, though. My desire was still there, even stronger, I dared to say. Now that he had recognized that he truly wanted me, it felt too easy, it felt simple and I just wanted to reach out and have him touch me - really, anywhere.

But I wanted to give him the space he needed to come to terms with this. So I resorted to long nights of touching myself to the thought of him, wondering what he was doing on his bed, if he thought of me when the bunker’s silence grew almost deadly and the sky became darker than a demon’s eye.

And then one night, I heard it.

It was a woman’s moan, coming from the room next door, and instinctively every nerve in my omega body stood in attention, ready to pounce. Who the fuck was with John? Why would he do this? But then his groan reached my ear, sounding much closer, much clearer, and by the time I heard another male’s voice panting, I knew what was happening.

John was watching porn.

The thought thrilled me to no end, even though I couldn’t really explain just why. Maybe it was the fact that he was doing something that intimate, right next to me, not knowing I could hear…

Or maybe he did, and that’s exactly why he was doing it. That had me drenching my panties, quickly getting rid of my clothes before laying back on the bed, a hand between my legs as I tried to listen to his every sound.

Only a few grunts and pants seemed to come from him, the rest mainly from the movie he was watching, but I could distinctly identify the wet, rhythmic slap of his hand meeting his navel along the sounds of the television, and that was the tempo I followed as I started to touch myself.

I got lost in the memories of when it was his fingers inside of me, his scent drowning mine, yet my attention never wavered from the room next door, trying to memorize every little thing about his search for pleasure while I did the same. I just knew it wouldn’t be enough to get me off until his pace quickened, a growl escaping the depths of his chest as he reached his release, and the thought of his cum covering his naked body had me mewling as my cunt clenched around my own digits.

Suddenly, it was all too quiet. All too very quiet.

“Are you touching yourself, little one?” His voice came closer than I expected it to - not that I expected it at all - and it had me gasping in surprise, imagining him on the other side of the wall against which my bed rested, trying to hear me do the exact same thing he’d been doing seconds before. “Are you touching yourself to the sounds of me getting myself off?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. How the fuck was I supposed to resist him?

“Are you soaking wet?” The questions just kept coming, prompting my movements to grow quicker, more desperate at the clear desire dripping in his tone. “Because of me?” A simple chuckle shouldn’t sound this hot. “No James here to prepare you this time, huh?”

And that was all it took for me to reach my high, cumming around my fingers with a strangled moan as John’s low laugh resonated from my left. “Atta girl. Bet you’ll sleep real good tonight.” And just when I thought he was done and I could finally breathe again, “I know I will.”

Oh, shit. I was trying to be patient and give him his time, but if he thought I’d let this sort of teasing just go by, he was in for a treat. Better get ready for war, Winchester.

John’s P.O.V.

I knew I was playing with fire, but no one could have prepared me for the special type of hell I was forced to live in during the next few weeks.

It was like she was doing anything she could to make my resolve break. She wanted me to lose control, take her again just like I did that time when I thought another Alpha would try to lay claim on her.

And I had to give it to her - the memories of when she was young were nothing but distant flashbacks I could only remember if I tried to think back on why I was trying to resist her.

Even then, it was like that little girl was someone else entirely, someone I didn’t know anymore - certainly not the young woman who was currently caressing the inside of my thighs and slowly getting closer and closer to my crotch in the middle of this fucking diner.

I took advantage of the fact that Dean had left the table to hit on one of the waitresses and Sam had left to ring someone to finally hold her wrists, stop her quest for control over my dick and my nerves.

“You keep trying to test my patience, you little brat. You wouldn’t like what I’d do if I actually lost it, right here, right now.” Her sharp inhale was music to my ears, a smirk taking over my face as I looked down on her by my side.

But of course, she couldn’t just let it go.

“What would you do, old man?” My chest inflated as I took in her defiance, glancing at the door and Dean to make sure no one would come back soon before turning my body fully towards her, caging her against the wall in the booth.

“I’d put you over my knee, rip those pretty jeans and spank the shit out of you, omega. I’d let everyone watch me bruise your skin, I don’t even care that all these alphas are staring at you. I’d let them see, so maybe they’d know they ain’t got no chance with you.” The sweet smell of her arousal was easy to catch, so I knew she was soaked by now - and my smirk warned her of just how much I was aware of my effect on her body.

A few seconds of silence followed my words, both of us breathing heavily as we stared at each other, trying to hold back. Until she broke the spell, simply by being her.

“God, can you get any kinkier?” I wanted to be mad, I really did, but it was just impossible. My whole body shook under the power of my laughter, and I knew Dean was looking back at us now, just like some of the other patrons.

“Try me,” I provoked, raising my eyebrows at her as I reached for my mug of coffee again. She just kept staring at me, lips pursed in a pout, arms crossed in front of her body, the perfect picture of annoyance.

“You’re hot, but you’re very mean. Did you know that?” I choked on the hot liquid, almost spilling it all over myself, not having expected to be so casually called hot by someone as attractive as her in a million years.

“But you know what?” She pressed on, not giving me any time to recover. “I can be meaner.” That sentence, whispered in my ear as she pressed her body against mine, sent shivers down my spine. “Game’s on, Winchester.”

… What had I gotten myself into?

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The fact that we had managed to get John Winchester to go to a club was mind-blowing and hilarious to me. He looked so out of place - much older than most around, and underdressed in comparison to the guys his age, who were all displaying the same type of clothes as the fuck boys who were so desperately trying to get with anything that moved.

“You have something in your hair,” I commented, using this as an excuse to press my body tightly against his when I reached out to fix his locks, and even though he was quick to push me away, keeping me at a distance, there was a smile on his face.

“You need to stop doing that.” I bit my lip as I looked up at him with the most innocent expression I could muster. It was honestly hard not to laugh.

“Doing what?” John scoffed, letting me go to turn back to his whiskey, but once the liquid was in his lips again, his eyes traveled up and down my body, almost undressing me.

“You like my dress?” I asked, twirling so he could get the full view, even though I already knew how he felt about it. There was an entire discussion about the piece of clothing before we managed to leave the bunker, and I still believed it was the entire reason why he decided to tag along to my night out with the boys.

“I think we’ve established this is barely even a dress, little girl.” Giggling, I stepped closer to him again, using the excuse some drunk dude gave me when he lost his balance and wobbled in my direction, my hand falling precisely over John’s crotch as I pressed our bodies together once more.

“You know there’s other people around us, right?” He whispered right by my ear, raising goosebumps all over my skin when the hand that wasn’t holding his drink settled over my ass. “This little skirt of yours is giving me all types of thoughts…”

I was just about to ask him to elaborate on that when his head suddenly snapped up, meeting my eyes instead of looking at my breasts. “Why on Earth aren’t you wearing any underwear?”

I giggled when I understood that he could feel the absence of other fabrics underneath the thin material of my dress since he was now rubbing and squeezing my butt. I was suddenly shy, more because I didn’t expect him to call me out on it than anything else, so I buried my face in his chest as he kept teasing me, “Do you have something against it? Is that it? Are you allergic to panties?”

He swayed us somewhat to the beat of the song that had taken everyone to the dance floor, and I just relished in his embrace before finally coming up with something to say. “You liked it so much the last time…” I reminded him, not expecting what he’d counter.

“Last time was a mistake.” Immediately, I pushed away from him, meeting his eyes in shock and hurt as his words pained me in a way I never expected him to do - not again. His eyebrows were furrowed as he stared back at me, obviously confused by my sudden reaction until he understood what he had said.

“No, no,” he called out, easily pulling me close again despite me trying to escape. I hated that I cherished that night so badly, desired him so ardently ever since, just for him to go ahead and write it off as a mistake.

“That’s not what I meant, ‘mega,” he tried to calm me down, nose rubbing over my scent gland in an effort to lower my heartbeat and suppress my anger. It worked perfectly, as much as I didn’t want it to.

“I just mean, I didn’t want the first time I touch you to be because of anger and jealousy.” His explanation drained all irritation from my body, leaving me slumping against his hard chest.

“I didn’t want it to happen like that,” he continued. “You deserved more than that.” My heartbeat was pounding to the rhythm of the music, not quite believing this turn of events.

“I mean… I didn’t even kiss you, for fuck’s sake.” The sound of his despair against his own actions had me mewling against him, absentmindedly rutting my ass against his crotch, not even realizing I was doing it until his fingers pressed tightly on my hips - not stopping me, just… holding me there.

“I want- I want our first time to be meaningful.” And that, right then, stole my breath away. Because I understood the implicit message. I understood that this was him, saying he was ready. “Hopefully, in a bed,” he continued, and I smiled to myself at his sweet plans for us.

“But if you keep teasing me so much, I’ll bury my fingers inside of you right here, I swear.” This last part was uttered against the shell of my ear, making me go perfectly still, at last stopping my movements against the bulge that had become more than evident in his old jeans.

“And Lord knows where that would take us,” he commented, hands holding me just under the curve of my breasts, making me shiver as he nuzzled against my neck from behind. “By now, you know how easily I can get carried away.”

And I did. Just the memory of it made me shiver, but maybe it was the man behind me, whose hands were now openly exploring my body as if we weren’t surrounded by people in a smelly club.

“Yeah, I know…” I panted, body sensuously moving against his without even intending to, just needing to feel the weight of his hands all over me, forever. “You’ve done it before.”

And that was the last thing I spoke for the next few hours because right then John turned me in his arms and took my lips on his, devouring me in the dark corner of the dance floor, while the rest of the club danced without a care in the world, not taking notice on two mates finally giving in to one another.

The only thing that mattered right then was him and I.

#my series #john winchester x reader #john winchester reader #john winchester series #john winchester reader insert #john winchester reader inserts #john winchester fanfiction #winchester fanfiction

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mikkomacko · 4 years

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In The Shadows 6

Niall's car still has that new cherry smell, and the leather seats look fresh, but the floor and cup holders are riddled with articles of clothing, textbooks, a soccer ball, and trash. Most of the clothes are piled up on the left seat, squishing y/n into the middle because her legs aren't as long as Harry's. Zoe's going over the end of the game's events, but Harry's not listening nor is y/n. She's too focused on how pretty Harry looks when he's groggy, puffy eyes and lips pouting like a toddler despite not having anything to pout about. By the way he's pressed against her, lips practically attached to her neck, she's surprised he's not smirking devilishly.

Her fingers soothingly rub his scalp and he practically purrs at the feeling, pressing his nose deeper into her neck. She giggles, snuggling him closer and laying her cheek on top of his head.

"I know he didn't get hit in the head but are you sure he's not concussed?"

Harry grumbles, breath hot on her skin. "Fuck off! M'just tired."

Niall and Zoe giggle, y/n ignoring the smug way her friend is watching in the rear view mirror as she strokes her fingers through Harry’s hair at the nape of his neck. He falls still, most likely on the verge of unconsciousness and the rest of the ride to the frat house is silent. Niall takes Harry’s bag in for her, pulling Zoe along by the hand while she fights with Harry to wake up enough to get up the stairs.

"Can't feel my legs peanut," he whines, flopping against the railing halfway between the two floors. "carry me please? Like ya used to when we played life guard?"

Y/n can't help but snort at that. Life guard was a silly game they played when they were kids in which someone pretends to drown and the other has to rescue them. Similar to the whole knight-damsel in distress thing but in the city pool. Back then she had height on Harry, and a bit more body mass than him too, so lifting him out of the pool like a princess was quite easy. Now though, she can't imagine being able to even lift his legs.

"Harry, you don't have the weight of a twelve year old anymore. I can't carry you up the stairs."

Childishly, he whines and slumps to the floor with a pout. "Are ya saying I'm fat?"

Digging her hands under his arms, she attempts to pull his large body up but fails miserable. "No," He barely budges. "I'm saying you're a twenty year old, beefy soccer player with the build of a Greek statue, and I'm shorter than you with noodle arms."

Harry pushes himself back to his feet, cheeks splotchy with blush and a shy grin on his lips. "So you're saying I'm hot?"

The shit-eating grin on his face makes her flush with heat, rolling her eyes and nudging him up the stairs again. "Yes Harry, I think you're hot." This time, he obeys, peeking over his shoulder at her as he climbs.

"Don't worry peanut, I think you're hot too."

Harry's glad he remembered to lock his door last night, because the soft raps against it as well as his mother's soft call of "Harry? You awake sweetheart?" is what wakes him up. But not only him.

Y/n groans as she rolls onto her stomach, face burrowing into his pillow. Harry puffs her hair out of his face, eyes shooting open when his mother knocks again. "J-just a second!" He calls back, voice raspy and slurring with sleep. His shout rouses y/n, turning to face him with an annoyed scrunch between her eyebrows. She blinks at him, confused by the panic on his face.

"What's going on?" She mumbles, snaking a hand up the soft skin of his chest until her palm rests over his heart. It's a sweet gesture and if this were any other morning he'd pull her onto his chest and comment on her morning breath before smacking a kiss to her cheek. But his mother is right outside the door

"My mum's here." Y/n propels herself up at Harry's words, eyes widening as she scrambles out of his bed. There's a confusing moment where they both just stare at each other, y/n in the middle of the room with his rumpled shirt and boxers on her, and him still in bed in nothing but his underwear.

"Are you okay Harry?" Anne calls worriedly and that snaps him out of his stupor. "Are you hurting?" He is in fact hurting, particularly on his ribs but he can ignore it for now.

"M'fine! Just getting dressed!" He picks up the first pair of jeans he can find, hopping on each foot as he tries to wiggle into them. Y/n is frantically picking up her clothes from last night while trying to keep her messy hair out of her eyes. "In the bathroom peanut!" Harry whispers urgently, nodding towards the door while he slips on a shirt.

Y/n follows his instructions, disappearing into the bathroom with him on her tail. She drops her clothes onto the counter, fisting at her sleepy eyes and it's so cute Harry wishes he could drag her back to bed right then. He refrains, quickly gearing his tooth brush up with paste and shoving it between his lips.

"'f ya hear me coming in, hop in the shower, m'kay?" He mumbles through froths of toothpaste, sloppily scrubbing his teeth before spitting into the sink. Y/n nods, eyebrows scrunched in focus but by the daze in her eyes he knows she's still half asleep and probably trying to figure out what the hell is going on. His lips quirk up as much as possible while being opened around his tongue, and he quickly scrubs that part of his mouth too before rinsing his toothbrush and mouth.

Y/n stumbles on the bathroom rug, looking down in confusion and then glancing around the bathroom as if just realizing where she's at. "Okay Peanut?" He asks, using his fingers to comb through his hair that's in desperate need of a wash. She nods just once, a yawn stretching her mouth and then she smiles, soft and warm at him. "Can get back in bed once I leave yeah? Just lock the door for me before crashing."

Another prodding knock comes from the door, snapping Harry out of his rose tinted daze. He cups her face, pecking a good morning kiss to her pouting lips. Y/n straightens out his necklace for him, sinking to sit on the edge of the tub and lays her head against the tiled wall. Sparing one last glance, he exits the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. Shaking out his previous panic, he unlocks his bedroom door and opens it.

"Took you long enough." Jess says in greeting, hovering behind Anne with an irritated scrunch on her face. Harry hadn't even realized Jess was here too, and he tries hard to ignore how pissed he is at her for the sake of his mother but he can already feel his neck growing hot with anger.

"Was still getting dressed." He replies dully, only smiling when Anne grabs his face to look over him. Harry gives her a moment to examine him before chuckling, peeling her insistent fingers away. "M'fine mum. Three stitches on my leg and a bruise along my ribs, that's all."

Anne gasps, as if he'd just said he'd been shot. Harry rolls his eyes, backing up into his room to get the pain killers off his dresser. He needs to take one before his leg starts to hurt so bad he can't move. "A bruised bone? Harry I told you to be careful playing-"

"I was careful!" He defends, dropping one of the pills into his mouth. "It's not my fault the other team was playing dirty! And it's not the bone, just the muscle around the bone."

Anne eyes him skeptically, huffing when he swallows his medicine and smiles at her. With a roll of her eyes, she finally relaxes and Harry drops onto the corner of his bed to slip on his socks. Jess perches herself on the edge of his desk, careful to avoid crushing the loose papers and books he has there. "Since when do you read something like Little Women?"

Harry glances up, finding Jess holding his copy of the book with a smug eyebrow raised. Anne picks up a pile of clothes on his floor, dropping them into the laundry bin. He bites back a protest, knowing how much she loves to come over and move his things and 'straighten up.'

"Since a few weeks ago."

Jess hums, dropping the book back on his desk. "Y/n has been reading it too even though she's seen the movie a billion times."

Frowning, Harry moves to stand next to her, stacking his stuff haphazardly just to keep her from digging through it. "I know. We're reading it together since you fucked up her book group."

"Stop cursing at your sister!" Anne scolds just as Jess scoffs. She crosses her arms over her chest, squinting accusingly at him and he has to remind himself that the fight between her and y/n is their fight, not his. He can't interfere, can't risk revealing that he's in love with and dating y/n. She has to be the one to step away Jess. He can't make that decision for her.

"That club was my idea anyway! And I shouldn't have to do it. Those books have nothing to go with my major."

Snorting, he shoves loose pens and pencils into the drawer of his desk. Why the fuck would Jess start book group when she knew that the books had literally nothing to do with her degree in business? "And getting ya nails done with the plastics does?"

Don't get Harry wrong, he hates fighting with Jess. Hates how high pitched she screams, hates that she always runs to Anne, hates the way it makes him feel. That's his baby sister, someone who's been his closest friend their whole lives. But he knew the comment would provoke her and that's exactly why he said it.

Her shrill response is almost instant. "My future depends on that sorority! That's how I'll make connections, get a job, doing something real instead of some silly sport!"

Harry scoffs, chest throbbing at the jab at his favorite thing in the whole world. It's always been his hobby, his love. Something Jess couldn't take from him because she's God awful at sports that aren't volleyball. He's based his whole life off of soccer and she's treating it like he's some washed up high school team captain. "I'm not in the frat just for soccer!" He grumbles, slamming the drawer of his desk shut and cutting across the room. He doesn't know where to go because they're still in the same fucking room but he finds himself standing in front of the bathroom door.

"Oh of course not. I know the girls that hang around here."

Harry whips around to face her, eyes blazing at the amused expression she wears. Maybe Harry slept around a little too much last year, but he wasn't a dick. He treated them all respectfully, made sure they knew that it was just sex for a night, nothing more, but that doesn't make him or any of his one-night-stands bad people. Sex is no reason to degrade someone and her even insinuating that she's superior for not sleeping around makes his blood boil so much he could kick a soccer ball at her head. "You don't anything about the people I hang around. For fuck's sake, you don't even know the people you hang around!"

"Would you too quit it already!" Anne hollers, cutting off whatever argument was on Jess' tongue. She angrily hangs one his sweaters up in the open closet, reaching down to work on the pile of hoodies sitting on the closet floor. "Jess stop teasing your brother, Harry stop yelling and-"

Anne's scolding abruptly stops, gaining Harry's full attention. He turns his glare to his mother, watching her rise from her crouched position from the closet and slowly turn around. Brows knitting in confusion, Harry wonders what she could have possibly found that's got her so shocked, until she stretches out her hand and he recognizes the fabric dangling from her pointer finger.

It's a bra. Not just any bra either. A soft peach colored one, with a cute little bow in the front and lace on the cups that Harry knows he laid eyes on last night before slipping it off y/n and throwing it over his shoulder. It seems in their scramble to hide y/n, they missed her bra that got buried under his sweater from last night. Harry's ears burn, ignoring the pointed look Jess is giving him as he snatches the bra from Anne, stuffing it in his underwear drawer.

"Harry..."

"S'just a bra mum." He mutters weakly, hoping to God that his sister doesn't somehow recognize it at y/n's.

"I know what it is." She snorts, and Harry huffs before flopping onto his bed. "I also know it means you had a girl up here and-"

"Would you believe me if I told you she just stayed the night?"

Jess guffaws, opening her big mouth for another ridiculing comment but Anne elbows get daughter before she can speak. Harry meets Anne's eyes, frowning at the fake smile on her lips. "If that's what you're saying happened, I believe you."

He can tell by the pitch of her voice that she's lying, but he doesn't care. That story is the truth and he'll stand by it, whether she trusts him or not. Rolling his eyes, he looks back at the bathroom and subtly winces, remembering y/n falling asleep in the bathtub. He thought they'd be leaving, maybe going for lunch but now they're just sitting and staring at each other.

"Should we go get brunch?" Harry finally says, hoping they've both had enough of messing with his life and will agree.

"Yes please! I'm starving!" Jess moans, already moving towards his door. Harry slips on his shoes, rolling his eyes again as she dramatically Yanks open his door. "Y/n hasn't gone grocery shopping with me so I haven't eaten."

Anne follows after Jess, cooing lightly and Harry is really debating ramming his head into the wall but decides against it. It'll definitely knock him out, and bring y/n out of the bathroom, and the last thing he needs is y/n trying to explain why she's hiding in his room, in his clothes, while he's out cold. Begrudgingly, Harry follows, grabbing his phone and opening his messages to y/n. He closes his bedroom door, sending her a text.

To Peanut

Coast clear. Don't know when I'll be back but feel free to stay and hang out. I'll let Niall know you're here so he can make extra food

BTW your bra is in my drawer ;) x

"God it's so nice to have those fucking stitches gone." Harry practically moans as he closes the car door, dropping his head back against the headrest. "Were itching me so bad, I swear I was gonna go mad."

Y/n giggles, leaning on the center console to press a kiss to his cheek. "Yeah I know, s'why I was massaging your leg every night before bed."

Harry's smile widens, eyes going moon-y when he turns to look at her. Her stomach overflows with butterflies. "Treat me so good, ya know that?"

Her face floods with heat, biting back a giddy smile. Y/n loves when Harry says sweet things like that, voicing his appreciation and acknowledging her. Again, she wonders how in the world he's related to Jess. And she wonders how she put up with it for so long. "Are you sure you'll be okay for your game this week?"

After missing two weeks of games and limited practice, everyone knows Harry's itching to get back on the field, but she doesn't want him reopening his wound or making it worse by not healing properly. Maybe she's babying him too much, but if it keeps him from getting hurt she doesn't care.

Harry grabs her hand off the console, bringing it up his mouth to kiss the back of it. "M'sure peanut. Doesn't hurt one bit." When she raised a questioning eyebrow he laughs, squeezing her fingers with mirth. "I swear I feel aces."

"Alright," she sighs "if you say so I believe you."

Harry gently places her hand in his lap for a moment, just long enough for him to start the car and let his phone play through the aux cord before connecting their palms again. "You're gonna be there, yeah?" He asks nonchalantly though he knows she'll be at every game. She's even gone out of her way to see him at away games. Yet there's something in him that makes him ask. That something being every high school game he played being void of any family members. The only person who showed up to a couple of them were y/n, always tucked in the corner of the bleachers by herself because Jess had volleyball.

"Of course I'll be there. And then we've got the Halloween party after."

Harry grins triumphantly, "I'll get dressed right after the game and pick ya up? Or are ya going to the house right away?"

"Zoe and I are getting ready at mine. Niall's meeting her there too so you two should drive together."

Harry hums, thinking over the idea. She can tell by the lack of frowning that he's already accepted that plan so she changes the subject. "Is there anything else you need for your costume?"

A woman in scrubs crosses in front of the car, heading towards the entrance of the hospital. Harry's eyes briefly focus on her before his eyebrows pinch together. Y/n is certain she has everything for her costume and she thinks Harry got all his things too. Still, she wants them to look perfect.

"Think I just need some boots but Zayn should have a pair." He finally concludes, then turns to her with a grin. "Reckon you'll kick my ass if I wear Chelsea's eh?"

The unamused quirk of her eyebrow is enough of an answer for him. Chuckling, Harry shifts the car into reverse, extending his arm over her seat as he leaves the parking spot. She waits until he's in drive and safely on the road back to campus before reaching for his hand again.

"Staying with me again?" Harry asks, a hopeful lilt in his tone despite her sleeping at the frat house at least three times a week.

"Fine, but you're staying over with me on Wednesday. I have an early study group and my place is closer."

Harry grins, dimples sinking deep into his cheeks. She knows that he hates having to climb through her bedroom window but her bed is more comfortable so he tries not to complain.

"What are ya studying for?"

"Chemistry exam next week." She grumbles, already dreading the upcoming test. Y/n absolutely loathes science, and even though chemistry is her least hated, she still struggles with the curriculum.

"M'sure you'll do amazing Peanut," Harry assures, having experienced many breakdowns over science work with her throughout the years. "Especially if you're already starting to study. Just don't overwhelm yourself, yeah?"

Appreciative, she nods and gives his hand a squeeze. "Anyway, gotta interview for my job next week so our time together may get a little cut." Harry pouts at his own words, already missing her even though she's sat in the passenger seat next to him.

"Oooh a job?"

Harry giggles lightly. "S'not very glamorous. Just a cashier at that bagel place by the campus apartments."

Y/n instantly lights up, having visited the place with Eleanor once. "I like that place!"

"You've been there?"

She nods, adjusting herself in the seat so she's turned more towards him. "I went with El before one of your games once. It was really cool. And now I have a reason to go again."

Harry's lips curl into a smirk, eyebrows pinching together in faux confusion. "Oh? What reason might that be?"

"Well," she clears her throat, leaning in closer to him as if telling a secret. "it's kind of classified information but I hear they're hiring this really good looking cashier."

Harry attempts to hide his pleased smirk, ultimately failing. "Really? What's he like? Maybe I'll go take a look at this fittie."

His joke brings a bubble of giggles out of her, the sound so pretty Harry peels his gaze away from the road for a brief second to see her smile. "Well, he's not got a major yet but I don't think he's really fretting over it which I think is really cool, because in my opinion, he's such a good soccer player, he'll probably end up signed to a pro team before undergrad graduation anyway."

The way Harry's cheeks tinge pink brings a swelling pride to her chest. He clears his throat, looking a bit too cocky at her response before further questioning her. "Really? Soccer ya say?"

"Mhm."

"Well I don't know if you're aware, but m'on the soccer team."

"Oh really?"

"Captain and everything. Maybe I know this extremely sexy player that doubles as a cashier?" Harry chokes out a little giggle, clearing his throat to gain back his composure. "What's his name again?"

Y/n sighs, pretending to think before gasping. "Now that you mention it, I think I've seen him with you before. He's got a really nice name. Kinda short but pretty."

"Well spit it out already!"

"Oh right!" She sits up straighter, leaning in close again. Harry bites his lip, eagerly awaiting her utterance of his name. "It's Zayn."

"Heyyyy!"

Jess never brought up book club to y/n, not even after she fought with Harry about him taking her place. In fact, that seemed to drive the stake between their friendship even deeper because Jess hasn't gone out of her way to try and fix things with y/n again. She stopped hounding her about her boyfriend, stopped complaining to her about groceries, stopped asking her why she slept over at Zoe's so often (Zoe being her cover for nights at the frat house). By the time Halloween came around, y/n didn't even think Jess would care that she had plans with someone else. They're usual pairing up for costumes had been forgotten, leaving her to easily plan out her night with Harry.

“He insisted on not wearing tights, even if it meant wearing a dress the whole night.”

Y/n laughs at Zoe’s retelling of her picking a costume with Niall, meeting her friends eyes in the mirror as she clips her hair up under her green hat. She's in a little green dress, the edges falling in little triangles against her lighter green tights. A brown belt has gathered the dress at her waist, and her curled hair is peaking out of the cap on her head, blending in cutely with the red feather. Y/n thinks she looks cute, and she's so happy that Zoe and Niall have gone for the gender swap form of Peter Pan and Tinker Bell.

"He's going to freeze his balls off." Y/n laughs, swabbing her brush in more black face paint. "But then again so is Harry. He's shirtless tonight so careful if he comes near you."

"Thanks. I'd hate to lose an eye to one of his four nipples."

They giggle again, y/n darkening the black on her nose and lining her lips. The paws of her dalmatian costume flop dangerously close to smearing the black and she squeals before pushing the sleeve up. Once her dog nose has been drawn, she outlines a spot on her eye.

"Harry played really good tonight." Zoe suddenly says, and y/n just smiles because she's gotten used to hearing that comment. "I think you give him like superhuman powers or something because he's never sprinted as quickly as he did today."

She tries to think back in high school how well he played, and while he wasn't as good as he is now, he's definitely always been a top player. His teammates were always talking about how good a player he is and he received numerous awards and medals for state games and whatnot, so she assumes it can't be just because of her. She wasn't at every high school game and he still managed to get a full ride for college if he played for the soccer team. Hell, he was offered spots at dozens of schools and for some reason he chose the one closest to home.

"He's just really passionate about the game." She offers in reply. Zoe gives her a pointed look but says nothing else on the matter. They finish getting ready in silence, y/n completing her Dalmatian makeup and slipping on black shoes to complete her costume.

"Niall texted," Zoe says, their timing being impeccable. "Harry and him are outside."

Out in the living room stands Jess, Tina, and a few other girls. They're all dressed as Barbie dolls, latex dresses and teased blonde hair with bright lips. Y/n attempts to ignore them, following Zoe towards the front door. She's stopped a few feet from it by Jess.

"You're not going trick or treating right?" Jess asks accusatory, her nose twisted in disgust as if she thinks y/n couldn't actually have anywhere to go on Halloween.

"No, I've got a party to go to actually."

A girl beside Tina pops up at that, a strand of orange hair slipping out from under her fake blonde wig. She quickly tucks it back in. "The Halloween Town party?"

Y/n doesn't know if that's the party at Harry's or not, but he did say it was exclusive to invite only and judging by the girl's desperate look, she wants to get into a party she hadn't been invited to. "Uh I think so. Not sure really."

"Yeah it's that one. And we're part of the costume contest so we have to go." Zoe cuts in, yanking the door open. She steps out onto the pavement, freezing when Niall and Harry are already standing there. Her eyes find Harry's right away, lighting up into a smile at the sight of him. He's got thick brown pants on, the cuffs tucked into thick black boots and suspenders clipped onto them. His chest is bare of a tee-shirt, lean muscles and dark tattoos free for her eyes to roam. A fireman's hat sits on his head, dark curls peeking out from under it.

"You're going with Harry?"

Just noticing his sister lurking behind, Harry's easy grin hardens. Knowing the two of them, Y/n jumps in before Harry can make a smart comment that'll end up pissing everyone off. "Yeah, typically friends do things like going to parties together." She had meant for the comment to be more light-hearted, a bit sarcastic but it clearly didn't come off that way by the growl that leaves Jess.

Y/n nudges Zoe fully out the door, stepping to take her spot next to Harry, and turning back around to face the fuming Barbie in the doorway. "You two aren't friends," Jess denies, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Get over yourself Jess." Harry practically barks, the sharpness of his words making even Y/n startle. "We've been friends just as long as you two were. Longer now, actually."

"She's my best friend Harry!"

Not sure how the conversation quickly turned to them talking about her as if she's a ghost, y/n nudges Harry with her paw covered hand. He glances down at her, jaw clenched and eyes dark, nodding gently just once. Zoe and Niall head back towards Harry's car, y/n hooking a finger on his suspenders to guide him away too. He takes a step back, ready to follow, but not before muttering one last heated sentence at his sister. "If she's your best friend, why's she's dressed up with me?"

Maybe Harry's possessiveness over her, the way he wouldn't let her finish her own fight should bother her, but it doesn't. It's different from the way Jess speaks for her, over her. The two siblings have got that in common, one of their few similarities. When it comes to someone they need, they're a bit too sheltering. She's reminded of that as he leads her to the car, pulling open the passenger door and helping her in. He even goes as far as reaching over to buckle her before she can even reach for the seat-belt.

But Jess and Harry are polar opposites, even in their similarities. Her possessiveness comes from her selfishness, the way she only keeps things and people for a personal gain. Like a child that only wants a toy when someone else is interested it. Harry's a bit like a child too, but in a softer way. A little boy holding onto a treasure he's wanted his whole life. He's protective over y/n, almost annoyingly so, but she understands why. She's the toy he's always wanted, the one that was given to Jess only to sit on a shelf unit he came in and treasured it. He's so overbearing sometimes because he doesn't want her stuck in the back anymore.

He's just pulled away from the curb, hands tight on the steering wheel when she leans over to kiss his cheek, not caring that she smears her black nose on his skin. She doesn't wipe it away, nor does she touch-up her makeup. Maybe she's a bit possessive too.

Zayn and Asteria end up winning the costume contest, dressed as Batman and Catwoman, which isn't exactly impressive until Zayn had spoke in a gruff, raspy tone and shot a trinket out of his utility belt while Asteria pulled off a very smooth and alluring back flip over the item shot out. While other costumes were certainly more creative, Y/n hands down agrees with them winning. She's not even bothered that her and Harry didn't make it very far in the competition. They're costumes got pretty sloppy after Harry's drunk mind realized he's only surrounded by his friends and people he trusts, and he's had his mouth attached to hers ever since. The outline of her lips and puppy nose are a mess, and his face is stained black around his mouth, but neither of them care.

"Peanut?" She hums, not taking her eyes off the detailing of the pumpkin in front of her. They decided to carve Jack Skellington into theirs, sticking with the theme of Halloween Town, and she wants it to be perfect. "Need to wee."

Giggling as he brushes his mouth over the side of her neck where's he's pulled her hood back, she pauses her meticulously carving of Jack's twisted smile. "Then go babe."

The arm around her waist squeezes, Harry huffing as glances towards the back door. The party moves around them, a few people working on pumpkins of their own at the designated carving station, either too drunk or too happy to be bothered by the cold air. "Will you go with me?"

She giggled again, finding the question funny in her buzzed state but Harry pouts on her shoulder. "You're not drunk enough that you can't go by yourself."

"Know that," he sighs, lowering his voice as he nudges her to look up with a knock of his head on her temple. "don't wanna walk by him by myself."

Y/n doesn't even need him to clarify who he's so hesitant to walk by, because leaning against the house by the door back inside is a clown, particularly Pennywise the clown, who she knows Harry's always been terrified of. He had a yellow raincoat when he was a kid and he used to love playing in the puddles in the street, so after seeing the movie and realizing he could've easily been in the same situation as Georgie, Harry's had an irrational fear of clowns.

A bit sad to leave her pumpkin behind, she pouts down at it's carved face before setting her tools down. "Alright Har, let's go." He takes her right hand, staying pressed against her side as they squish through the crowded back yard. Harry's fingers tighten as they inch closer to the clown and she can feel him hunch over, hiding behind her frame. Y/n has to bite her lip to keep from laughing at how cute he is, letting him rush into the house first. She stumbles over the doorway, Harry tugging her by the hand in his haste to get away from the clown.

"That fucker was eyeballing me, I swear it." He reasons, lips brushing her ear now they're in the house where a song about teeth is blasting too loudly. The fog machine in the living room spits out another layer of fog, misting through the fake spider webs and over The Nightmare Before Christmas figurines. Unable to stop herself (not that she really needs to), y/n pecks a kiss to Harry's warm cheek.

"Alright, let's get you to the bathroom before Pennywise comes in."

Together they climb the stairs, Harry wanting to use his own bathroom instead of the packed one in the living room. There's a bit of a fumble with the lock on his door but manage to get it open before Harry can whine about his bladder exploding. It's not until he's in the bathroom, peeing with the door open (a habit he's had since he was a kid), does y/n realize how exhausted she is. It's barely pushing 1am but her buzz and the rowdiness of the party have drained her. Pushing herself off the bed, she kicks off her shoes and flicks the lock on the door just as Harry drags his feet out of the bathroom.

"Don't wanna go back down?"

Harry's already tossed his fireman's hat on the dresser and is struggling with boots when she turns to face him. "M'tired. Wanna get out of my costume." His boot thumps on the carpet and she fumbles with the collar around her neck. The room is void of conversation as they both work on removing their outfits, Harry managing to strip down to his boxers fairly easy. By the time y/n has caught up, folding her costume in just her underwear and a plain bra, Harry's dug out makeup wipes and is sloppily cleaning the lower half of his face.

"Here babe, let me get it." Her words make Harry visibly soften, perching his bum on the edge of the bed and parting his thighs for her to fit between. She takes a clean wipe, ridding him of the black as gentle as possible.

"I used to have dreams of you like this." Harry admits in a whisper when she's finished. He takes a wipe of his own, rubbing off her nose with the softest of touches.

"Taking off my makeup?"

His eyes don't meet hers as he continues. "In my room, calling me babe or something. Were never wearing something like this though," one of his fingers tugs at the strap of her bra. "always in just my shirt. And we whispered like this because everyone was asleep just down the hall."

Y/n's stomach tightens, her whole being swelling with pride at the thought of Harry dreaming about sneaking her into his room. She thought about it too sometimes, when they were snuggled in separate sleeping bags in the living room. He always looks so warm and soft when he sleeps that she'd often imagine curling up next to him, nose buried in the curls on top of his head and sleeping for eons. "Yeah?"

Harry nods, lips beginning to curl up the slightest bit. "Yeah. Sometimes you'd just climb into bed with me, let me hold you until the morning when we had to sneak back downstairs." With a tender kiss to her forehead, Harry tosses the dirty makeup wipes into the trash by the bed. His grin twists into a smirk, drunken eyes shining with mischief. "Other times you'd climb into my lap..." he trails off, moving to climb onto the bed. Taking her hand in his, Harry pulls her up the mattress until he's sat against the headboard with her perched over his thighs. "just like this. We'd kiss for ages, until I felt like I was going to suffocate from having my mouth on yours."

Harry's hands ghost up her bare thighs, palms warm and soft. She shivers at the touch, scooting further up his legs until the bulge in his boxers is pressed against her heat. A low groan rumbles through his chest, nostrils flaring as he drops his lips to the top of her breasts. "I had dreams about you too. Always slept better on those nights." She whispers back, raking her fingers through his hair while his warm breath raises goosebumps on her skin.

"Did ya have dirty dreams?" Harry murmurs cheekily, words raspy with need. After weeks of fooling around with him, learning the spots that make him tremble, the noises that make him twitch, the rhythm that makes him cum, she also knows Harry loves to talk during moments like this.

"Of course I did." Y/n giggles breathlessly, sighing contently when he brings a hand to her back and unclasps her bra. "How couldn't I when you look like this?"

Harry tilts his head back up to meet her gaze, cheeks pink and lips wet with his own saliva. His smirk practically falls off the edges of his face. Nimble fingers peel off her bra, tossing it somewhere in the room. "You were my first wet dream too." Harry coos and she's utterly baffled at how he can make even that seem romantic.

"Dreamed about having you since I was finally able to understand what it meant to actually want you." He continues, one arm locking around her waist to bring her closer while the other cradles the side of her face. "Which is why I don't want our first time to be on Halloween after we've had drinks. Want to remember everything, feel everything when I finally get to have you."

Heat crawls up her chest and neck, heart swelling at his words. They've yet to have a real discussion about sex, only going as far as utilizing their hands and mouths, and knowing that going all the way is as big a deal to Harry as is it her makes her actually want to kiss him until he suffocates. "Me too."

Nudging his nose into her cheek, Harry connects their mouths for a kiss. Monster Mash plays for the umpteenth time below them and the cackle of a witch comes from the decorations outside the house, and yet y/n thinks she might be falling in love with Harry Styles.

#In The Shadows #harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #harry styles au #best friend's brother #forbidden love #frat boy harry styles #college harry #harry styles smut #kinda lol #one direction

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timotey · 4 years

Text

Fic: Brave Little Tangerines

Dark Blue Kiss/Our Skyy. PeteKao. A what-if story.

For the sake of the story, let’s assume that Our Skyy takes place after Dark Blue Kiss, okay? Also, I’m no doctor so expect a lot of hand-waving and, well, creative licence.

Kao lied to Pete about the damned curse. Now Pete is tired and cranky and he wants to go home. But where the heck is Kao?! The pharmacy he went to is just a few blocks away, after all...

😧😧😧

Pete’s really, really angry. As if he didn’t tell Kao many times in the past not to lie to him. And yet, here they are again. Here there’s Pete, carrying a half-pint of a plant - still heavy, though - and punched in the face. Dammit!

And where the heck is Kao? The pharmacy he decided to go to pick up some disinfection and who knows what else - despite Pete’s stout protests - is only a few blocks away, it’s not like it’s a trip to Mars or something.

Five minutes pass. Then ten. And fifteen.

Dammit!

Pete pulls out his cellphone and calls Kao, more than ready to give his lover a real dressing down. Because he’s tired and cranky and he wants to go home and take a shower and forget this day ever happened.

The phone keeps ringing. And ringing. And ringing.

Kao doesn’t pick up. And Pete feels the first jab of worry in the vicinity of his stomach.

He smothers it with anger, though, and hanging up, he gets up, grabs the darned plant and stomps angrily down the pier and towards the pharmacy whose sign keeps blinking merrily in the distance like a beacon in the dark.

Pete doesn’t come across Kao on the way there and when he enters the shop, there’s no one inside either. Nobody but the pharmacist. He feels that bitter jab of worry again. Where is Kao?

“Excuse me?” Pete says as he steps up to the counter, and when the pretty girl there smiles at him invitingly, he continues with, “Hello, hi. I’m looking for my boyfriend? Same red shirt, my height but really pale? Pretty eyes?”

“Oh yes, he was here a few minutes ago,” the girl tells him. “He seemed rather worried. He bought some things for treating scrapes - for you, I guess?” She points at the reddened, swollen corner of Pete’s mouth.

“Hm,” Pete replies, self-consciously touching that bruise in the making. “Where did he go then?”

She frowns a little. “The way he came from? The way you came from? You can’t have missed him…”

Well, Pete did, apparently.

He thanks the pharmacist and leaves, the door clicking shut behind him. And then he stands there, on the sidewalk lit by the pharmacy’s large windows, and he looks around in puzzlement. Where did Kao go?

More than a little anxious now, Pete pulls out his cellphone once more and dials Kao’s number again, muttering, “Pick up, Kao. Pick up the damn phone!”

Then he hears the ringing, the distinct ringtone - Kao’s ringtone - whispering to him from somewhere nearby. It goes on and on and on and Pete starts walking, towards the melody that grows stronger and louder with each step he takes.

There’s a dark alley, just a narrow passage between two rundown buildings, a place where people throw away their trash when the dumpsters are too full or they’re too lazy and they don’t care. And Pete stops right at its mouth because it’s where the ringing is coming from, that dark alley - and something rattles as he kicks it accidentally.

Pete looks down. It’s a white plastic bag with the pharmacy logo on it, dropped and left lying carelessly on the pavement. There’s a bottle of disinfection and a package of sterile gauze inside it, the things Kao set off to buy. Pete swallows hard.

“Kao?” he calls out, stepping over the bag and into the alley.

There’s no answer but the ringing of Kao’s phone and Pete can’t see anything. He switches on the flashlight on his cellphone, aiming it further down the alley. “Kao? You there?” he calls out again with trepidation in his voice.

And then he sees it. Kao’s sneaker, his jeans-clad leg sticking out from behind a rusty dumpster. There, on the ground. Not moving.

Shit!

Yelling Kao’s name again, Pete drops the plant and rushes forward, towards his boyfriend who’s lying on the wet, filthy pavement, there, on his side with his left arm outstretched - reddened and already bruising and swelling heavily, clearly broken - and his right one curled around his stomach. His eyes are closed.

Pete drops to his knees next to Kao, reaching out with his trembling hand. He touches Kao’s throat - bruised, there are bruises forming on his skin, encircling his throat - to feel for his pulse and he lets out a shaky, unsteady breath, one he didn’t even realize he was holding, when he finds Kao’s skin warm to the touch and his heart beating. He’s alive, Kao’s alive!

“Kao?” Pete whispers, leaning down to stroke Kao’s pale face, so pale it looks almost grey in the harsh glare of the cellphone flashlight. “Kao, you hear me?”

A split lip, a swelling cheek - someone beat Kao up, Pete realizes and for a moment, he’s seized with fury so terrible he almost chokes on it. But then he runs his fingers over the back of Kao’s head and they come away wet, sticky and red. Bloody.

No. No no no no no!

Pete hangs up, the cellphone in Kao’s back pocket falls silent, and he calls for help. Someone needs to help them, help Kao. Because Kao’s hurt.

Kao’s hurt!

xXx

Pete holds Kao’s hand all the way to the hospital. His anger is forgotten, it’s all in the past, unimportant now, his previous irritation paling in comparison with Kao’s unresponsive pallor even more terrible now in the sharp, unforgiving light of the ambulance.

Wake up, Kao, Pete pleads, terrified and desperate, stroking Kao’s knuckles with his thumbs. Please, wake up.

Kao doesn’t.

xXx

From the ER’s waiting room, Pete calls his dad. And then Kao’s mom. It’s one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. Afterwards, he doesn’t remember what he told her, only that he kept apologizing to her, again and again. For what, he’s not sure. For not taking better care of Kao? For letting this happen to him? For stewing in his anger while someone beat Kao unconscious? Pete doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s very, very, very sorry.

Their parents arrive and Pete tells them what happened. Again. And then, at some point, as hours go by, the cops come and Pete tells his story again. They want to know it all, everything, every gory detail while they take notes and look bored. Pete guesses it’s probably nothing new for them, people get beat up everyday in this city. But this time, this time it was Kao, his Kao, and Pete has to swallow his anger at their callousness. Causing trouble won’t help Kao and Kao is all he has to think of now.

“So,” one of the cops, the one chewing endlessly on a sweet smelling gum, says, staring down at his scribbled notes, “he wasn’t robbed and from what the EMTs could tell us, there were no signs of a sexual assault…”

Those words, thrown out so carelessly, steal Pete’s breath and make his heart skip a beat. And then another. Because this, something so terrible, didn’t even occur to him, that someone could hurt Kao like this. If someone did, if they-if… Pete’s mind refuses to even contemplate that possibility, hitting a blank wall, again and again.

“You think he might’ve gotten into it with someone? Bit off more than he could handle?” the cop continues, looking up at Pete.

It occurs to Pete again that this men really don’t know Kao, they know nothing about him, about the person Kao is. And suddenly Pete feels the need to explain it to them, to make them truly understand who Kao is, why it is so terrible what happened to him, to him in particular.

“Kao wouldn’t do that,” Pete states with conviction. “He’s the nicest, kindest person you’re ever going to meet in your life.”

The cops exchange a look. “Right,” the gum chewing one says, voice heavy with disbelieving sarcasm. Everyone says that, remains unsaid but hanging pointedly in the air.

It makes Pete angry. “No, you don’t get it. In Kao’s case, it’s not just words. Everyone who’s ever met him, spoke to him, got to know him liked him. His students, his fellow teachers, everyone! There’s not a person in the world who would want to hurt… him.”

Pete stops. There’s no one who had any reason to hurt Kao.

“You want to be a hero?!”

Shit.

The cops must’ve noticed Pete’s reaction because they exchange another look, then they prompt him. “Yes?”

Pete swallows. “There was a man. Kao and I, we met him on the bus. He was taking pictures of some girl secretly, inappropriate pictures. I noticed and I stopped him. I punched him. Then later on - actually only a few minutes before-before what happened to Kao - we came across the same guy again, him and his buddy. He recognized me. And he punched me.” He touches his swollen mouth.

The gum chewing cop nods and writes it all down. “Can you give us a description? Would you recognize him again?” he asks.

Pete nods. He tells them what the men looked like. He doesn’t want to believe it was them. Because it it is so, if they did this to Kao, then... then this is his fault, Kao’s beating.

“You want to be a hero?!”

No, Pete didn’t. He just… he reacted. Like he always does. Because he can keep his own in a fight, he knows he can. And if the guy came after him again, Pete would’ve stood his ground and gladly so. But if that cowardly bastard went after Kao to hurt Pete, if Pete provoked him into doing that to Kao… Pete’s not sure if he would ever forgive himself.

“Alright,” the cop says, “we’ll look into that.”

Then, before they can ask Pete anything more, the doctor comes in, an older lady with her graying hair in a bun, and she asks for Kao’s family. Forgetting all about the cops, Pete rushes forward to find out what’s going on and how Kao is, if he’s alright, when he’s going to be alright because no other option is allowed, not in Pete’s opinion.

But Pete’s opinion doesn’t matter, apparently. The world doesn’t care about Pete’s opinion, about his anguish as it turns out.

“... broken arm… broken ribs… contusions to… but our main concern is the skull fracture he… intracranial bleeding… swelling… pressure on the brain and…”

There’s white noise in Pete’s ears. He feels sick and hot and sweaty.

“Coma.”

They don’t let him see Kao.

xXx

Pete’s dad drives him home. He asks Pete to stay with him at the villa, but Pete doesn’t want to. He wants to go home, to his and Kao’s home where the sheets smell of Kao’s shampoo and there’s still the cake that Kao loves so much in the fridge.

And then he remembers.

“Can we stop somewhere first?” Pete asks his dad. His father gives him a curious look but nods.

They stop at the alley where Pete found Kao. He didn’t want to come here out of some-some masochistic need to punish himself by returning to the scene of the crime, no. He’s here for…

The little tangerine is still there. The pot is cracked and someone must’ve kicked the plant over and stepped on it because several branches are bent, some even broken. But it’s still there. Kao’s tangerine. He isn’t sure why exactly Kao wanted a tangerine, why he really wanted it, he never got around to asking after their fight, but Pete couldn’t just leave it here.

He picks it up and dusts it off a little - and then he happens to look into the alley and…

He runs.

xXx

His father is reluctant to leave him alone but it’s what Pete wants. He wants to be alone. He loves his dad dearly but right now, he can’t take his sympathetic glances, his soft words. He just… he can’t take them.

But then, when his father leaves, the house suddenly feels too quiet, too empty without Kao’s laugh and his happy presence, without his soft humming and the silent scratching of his pen on paper. Pete can’t stand the unexpected vastness of their little house.

So he goes out into their garden to plant the tangerine, in a place he thinks Kao would like. By then it’s early afternoon and Pete’s trembling with exhaustion but he’s too wired to sleep. Too afraid to sleep. He wants to be with Kao, see for himself that his boyfriend is alive, but they won’t let him in, not into the ICU. Pete’s just Kao’s lover, not his family, not in their eyes, not according to their stupid rules.

When Kao’s okay again, when he’s back home again, safe and sound, they will get married. They’re going to take a trip abroad, to some country that allows this, and they’re going to marry. No one, not anyone will dare say then that Kao is not Pete’s family. And Pete is Kao’s.

With the tangerine planted and watered, Pete sits down on the grass and stares at the poor sapling, as broken as Kao. And though he tries to stop his mind from going places, it refuses to listen. It shows him that alley again, in vivid detail, the once white and now grimy wall and the rusty stain on it exactly where Kao’s head would be if someone threw him against that wall, if someone smashed his head against it again and again, to stun Kao or silence him but definitely to hurt him.

“... skull fracture…”

Pete cracks too. He cries so hard he can barely breathe.

xXx

It’s not until the early hours of the next morning that Pete falls asleep but shortly after that he’s woken up again by a phone call. It’s the police. They arrested the man Pete described to them and they need him to come in and identify him.

Pete goes. His eyes burn and his joints feel heavy from the lack of sleep but he goes. Because if this man really hurt Kao, the bastard needs to pay for it.

He recognizes the guy immediately, picks him out of a line-up without hesitation. Yes, this is him, that’s the fucker! Pete’s sure of it, as sure as he breathes. Only when they lead the man away does Pete notice the swollen knuckles on his hands. He didn’t have those when he punched Pete. No, you don’t get bruises like that from hitting someone once, Pete knows this from experience. You only hurt yourself like this when you punch a person over and over again.

Kao…

Pete swallows hard.

“The CCTV at the pharmacy caught him and his buddy following your friend after he left the shop,” the gum-chewing cop from last night tells Pete. Today, there’s no gum and the man doesn’t look bored anymore. No, he looks tired, as tired as Pete feels. Pete feels guilty for thinking badly of him yesterday.

“Can you prove that he did it?” Pete asks quietly.

The cop sighs. “All we have is circumstantial,” he admits. “We might find traces of his DNA on your friend’s clothes but to get him convicted for sure, we really need your friend’s testimony.”

Kao’s testimony. They did all they could but now they need Kao to wake up.

Pete needs that, too.

Please, wake up. Please.

xXx

It takes several days for Kao’s health to improve so that he can be moved out of the ICU and to a normal hospital room. By then, Pete’s a wreck. He knows he should be there for Kao’s mom, her pillar of strength, so to speak, but the truth is, he can feel himself falling apart, bit by bit.

He can’t get the image of Kao ashen face, the feel of his slack, unresponsive hand in his out of his mind. These impressions are so ingrained, so overwhelming that they keep him awake at night. If they at least let him see Kao…

And then they do, finally, and Pete cries.

He sits there, at Kao’s bed, holding his right hand, the one not encased in plaster, and he cries without making a sound, staring at Kao’s pale face, at the dark bruises encircling his eyes and the stark white bandages covering his shaved head. He thought he would feel better if they only let him see his lover but he doesn’t. He feels more anchored, true, like he has a purpose now - to keep it together for the man lying in the hospital bed - but at the same time, nothing changed.

Kao is here but he isn’t, not really. He’s still in a coma.

Pete comes in every day after that, from the earliest they let him in till they actually kick him out. He listens to the doctors and he learns the nurses’ names and the hospital personnel, they all come to know them too, Pete and his lover Kao, the pretty man in a coma in room 302.

And then the cops call Pete and they tell him they had to let the suspect go, the man who punched Pete and almost certainly beat Kao half to death. Without Kao’s testimony, they didn’t have enough on him to hold him. They had to set him free.

Shit.

xXx

It’s evening again and the visiting hours are ending. Another day gone. And Kao still hasn’t woken up.

Pete just sits there, his breathing is ragged and he’s hiding his face in his hands, fingers pressed hard into his eyes to push back tears. For a moment, just for a moment that day he considered what he would do if Kao never woke up. It horrified him that this thought even crossed his mind.

Rubbing his eyes, Pete takes a deep breath and gets up, and just like every day, he leans over Kao’s bed and takes Kao’s face gently in his hands, stroking his cheekbones with his thumbs. “Hey, love,” he whispers, “I have to go now. But I’ll come back tomorrow again, okay? And then you have to wake up for me because it’s getting really boring here without you.”

Smiling bravely, Pete leans down to press a kiss to Kao’s forehead, running his hand gently over the soft, fur-like short hair on Kao’s head, free of bandages now. Forcefully, he stops himself from thinking of how long it’s been now since Kao got hurt.

“I love you,” Pete tells his boyfriend, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Kao’s for a moment. Then he straightens up and with a last squeeze of Kao’s hand he goes, leaving for the day.

He says goodnight to the women clustered around the nurses’ station and he tries very hard not to see their sympathetic glances directed his way. He takes the elevator down to the lobby and he says goodnight to the men at the reception desk downstairs and he tries very hard not to see their sympathetic looks either. He’s almost getting used to them, what a terrifying thing.

And then Pete walks outside and he takes a deep breath that doesn’t refresh him at all, and walking across the parking lot, he gets into his car, one of the few left there this late. And then he sees the soft little polar bear in its silly blue t-shirt that he took with him from home that morning, a gift given to him by Kao before that Pete now wanted him to have. He forgot it on the passenger seat.

Smiling, Pete takes it in his hands and squeezes its soft belly lightly. “Get well soon, love,” the bear says in Pete’s voice. He knows it’s just a silly toy but it has such a deep meaning, for the both them, him and Kao.

And so Pete decides to take the toy up to Kao’s room despite the late hour. He knows the nurses have a soft spot for him, that they will let him in for a moment, even though the visiting hours are over by now.

Nodding to himself, Pete gets out of the car and goes.

xXx

Turns out, the silly polar bear saves Kao again.

Because when Pete sneaks down the corridor under the mock frowns of the night staff and opens the door of Kao’s room, there’s a man dressed as a nurse standing over Kao in the dark - and he’s pressing a pillow against his face, smothering him.

Hearing Pete’s “Hey!” the man shoots up and twists around instinctively and Pete throws the toy right in the would-be killer’s face. The man’s not expecting it and so he recoils, dropping the pillow, and Pete uses his momentary distraction to barrel into him.

Together they hit Kao’s bed and fall over it, crashing to the floor hard with Pete landing on top. He can hear commotion in the hallway but he doesn’t pay it any attention. He’s filled with dread - not for himself but for Kao - which fuels his anger, fury really. He starts hitting the man with all his strength, again and again, easily blocking the guy’s punches, and he doesn’t stop until the room’s flooded with light and someone grabs him from behind and drags him away.

There are nurses, orderlies, doctors even and they all stare at Pete as if he lost it. He catches on pretty fast, realizing that all they can see is a man dressed as a nurse, the apparent victim here, Pete’s victim. They’re even helping the man get up. No, no way!

“He tried to kill Kao!” Pete yells, tearing at the hands holding him back.

An elderly doctor steps in, trying to calm Pete down with an indulgent, “Now look here, son--”

But then Pete takes his first good look at the man and he freezes. It’s the pervert from the bus. The bastard whom Pete identified at the police station. The fucker the cops had to let go because without Kao’s testimony, they couldn’t actually prove anything to him.

“You!” Pete snaps. “This is the guy who put Kao in the hospital! He’s the one who attacked us back then!”

Everyone turns to the man, doubts replacing their disbelief at Pete’s actions. And when the wannabe nurse looks around covertly and takes a step forward, towards the door, those who helped him stand before now grab him and hold him fast.

Pete looks around the room. “Call the cops and ask them if you don’t believe me. No,” he corrects himself immediately, “call them in any case. Right now! This man tried to murder Kao, he tried to smother him with a pillow.” He points at the damning evidence on the floor.

And that’s when Pete hears it. It’s Kao, he’s wheezing for breath and his gasps sound so loud in the suddenly too quiet room.

“Kao…” Pete whispers, freeing himself from the orderlies’ slackened grip, and he throws himself towards the bed, lifting Kao up, propping him up against his chest to help Kao breathe. “Kao? Kao, breathe, please!”

Everybody starts moving at once then, someone rushes out to call the police, others move in to drag the attacker out, the doctors step up to the bed to check on Kao, urging Pete to let go of him, and it’s one big mess, loud and chaotic, but Pete is hardly aware of it, any of it, because he’s looking down at Kao who’s resting heavily in his arms… and staring up at him.

“Kao?” Pete whispers, uncertainly, too afraid to trust in what he sees, that Kao’s awake, that Kao’s back.

The doctors try to take Kao away from Pete but he pushes their hands away angrily, and whispering a wondrous “Kao?” again, he lifts his hand to touch Kao’s face, stroke his cheek.

Kao blinks slowly, groggily up at him and then he cracks a smile, the tiniest of smiles, really, but a smile nonetheless and his hand flops limply against Pete’s leg in a very tame attempt at patting Pete reassuringly.

And Pete? Pete kisses him.

xXx

They try to make Pete leave. He politely tells them to shove it - to see Kao scowl at him for his rudeness does Pete’s soul a world of good, it really does - and they don’t press the issue. Considering that Kao, a patient of theirs, almost got killed on their watch, Pete thinks it a wise decision.

Besides, he would love to see them try and get him to leave when Kao has yet to let go of his hand. His grip is tight and his skin a little clammy, betraying his anxiety, though Kao hides it pretty well.

The thing is, Kao doesn’t remember how he ended up here, what happened which turns out to be a real irony in itself as Pete’s favorite gum-chewing cop sums up when he arrives together with his partner to take their statements.

“If I understand it correctly,” he says, tapping his pen against his notepad, “you don’t remember anything that happened that night, when the man attacked you?”

Kao shakes his head. “S-sorry,” he stutters out, furrowing his brows in frustration.

Some words seem namely rather difficult for him to pronounce now, some sounds make his tongue trip a little, but the doctors assure them that with a little time and a thorough speech therapy, it should pass. It’s a little frustrating to Kao and it does make Pete worry - but in the grand scheme of things, this is nothing. They can deal with that.

The cop barks out a laugh. “So, we had to let that guy go because we couldn’t pin the assault on him without your testimony. And to make sure you couldn’t testify against him, he decided to get rid of you. Only for you to tell us now that you don’t remember anything. If the guy spared himself the effort, he would’ve been off to hook. Now, we’re going to nail his ass for attempted murder and this time he won’t wiggle out of it, that I can promise you.” There’s steel in his voice when he says that and Pete believes him.

Shortly thereafter, the cops leave and then Pete’s dad and Kao’s mom arrive and they both hug Kao, hard. Kao snuggles into his mom’s arms happily and though Pete’s dad’s hug surprises him a little, he appreciates it. A lot.

Then the doctors swarm in and insist on wheeling Kao away for some tests - it’s still barely light outside but an attempted murder right under their noses makes the collective staff rather hyper as it turns out - and when their parents leave again, promising to come back during visiting hours, Pete’s left alone, for the first time in hours.

And then he starts to shake.

First his hands start trembling, then he’s seized with shivers all over - and he can’t seem to make it stop. He hides in the adjacent bathroom, locking the door and sliding it down to sit heavily on the floor. Then he presses his hands against his mouth and he cries, he sobs so hard he can barely breathe.

Because Kao almost died. That man, that… bastard almost killed Kao. If Pete didn’t turn up with the toy, Kao would be dead now. He wouldn’t be undergoing tests, he wouldn’t be answering questions and worrying about his stutter, he would be dead. Gone. Lost to Pete forever.

Pete cries and he cries till he feels sick.

xXx

“I’m sorry,” Pete says, running his fingers through Kao’s short hair, rubbing the scars left behind in places where the doctors had to cut Kao open to fix him.

“What for?” Kao asks. He’s lying on his side facing Pete and holding Pete’s hand with his right one. His left forearm is still in the cast - but luckily not for long now, considering Kao keeps complaining about how much it itches.

“I got angry at you that night, when you got hurt,” Pete explains. “I’m sorry about that.”

Kao frowns. “I don’t remember. What did I do?”

Pete sighs. “For some reason, you lied to me about some stupid curse and--”

“I actually did that?” Kao’s eyebrows shoot up, then he grins sheepishly. “I did, I guess-ss.”

“But why?” That question’s been bothering Pete ever since that night.

“I wanted to s… s-s-spend s-some time with you, that’s-s-s all,” Kao replies, frowning at his stuttered es’.

Pete blinks at him, stunned. “Spend time with me? We live together! We’re together all the time!”

Kao frowns, rubbing Pete’s hand with his thumb. “Not really, you know. Now that I picked up more class-sses-s and you got a new job…” He blows out his breath. “I jus-sst miss… miss-ssed you.”

Pete’s heart clenches a little, hearing that. If he just listened that night instead of exploding with anger…

Stroking Kao’s hair gently, Pete leans closer, staring into his lover’s eyes. Damn, Kao’s eyes are beautiful, he thinks, before saying, “Next time you want to spend time together, just tell me, alright?”

“You won’t complain?” Kao asks suspiciously.

Complain? After the ordeal of the past several weeks? After living in fear that he would never get the chance to talk to Kao again, that he would never get to hold him again or kiss him again? “No, I won’t complain, I swear,” he says earnestly, sealing his promise with a kiss.

xXx

It’s a couple more weeks before Kao’s allowed to return home. His stuttering gets better, it’s barely noticeable by then. What doesn’t go away, is the tremor in his left hand, the one that got broken that night. Nerve damage, the doctors say. The more tired Kao gets, the more evident the trembling in his fingers becomes. And Pete wants to punch the bastard who did that to Kao again.

After a nap and a hearty meal, Pete takes Kao outside, into the garden, and they sit on the swing he had installed there. Back and forth, back and forth the swing goes as they lean against each other, their bare feet buried in the soft grass.

“What’s that?” Kao asks then, pointing at the little tangerine, a green and healthy sapling again, its brokenness a thing of the past now.

Pete smiles. The little tree reminds him of Kao, too tough to stay down. “It’s a tangerine. You insisted on buying it that night.”

Kao looks at him, eyebrows raised. “I did? And you planted it?”

“Yeah. By the time I brought it home, it was rather worse for wear. Some of its branches were broken and... well. But I couldn’t stand the thought it would die,” Pete whispers, his throat a little thick. He’s talking about the tree - but he also isn’t.

Kao smiles, leaning comfortably against Pete; Pete welcomes it. “But it didn’t. Die I mean,” Kao replies softly. “A brave little tangerine.”

Pete smiles too, hugging Kao around his shoulders and pulling him close. “Yes,” he agrees. “Very brave.”

#dark blue kiss #dbk drama #our skyy #petekao #my petekao fics #my fics #mé

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justreadingfics · 5 years

Text

Looking For a Heartbeat (7/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Series Summary: You and Bucky used to be in a relationship. Feelings were hurt, you left. It’s been two years and you’re back. You both will handle the reunion well, won’t you?

Chapter Summary: The day after the rooftop.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings for this chapter: angst, cursing, canon physical violence, actions that could be interpreted as suicidal thoughts.

A/N: Thanks @nedthegay for helping me with this chapter! Please, let me know what you all think. Links are ruining posts, so you can find the the masterlist link on my description.

Steve has his full Captain mode on, pointing and explaining the strategies for next mission. The details of the it mimicked in the 3D holograms hovering over the round table. Something about alien guns and dealers based on an abandoned construction site. Bucky couldn’t tell exactly. Always the same old shit. Whatever Steve’s says falls on deaf ears. His thoughts are somewhere else. Or better, someone else...

His attention is fastened on the vacant seat between Nat and Tony. As far as he remembers, you were never one to be late for briefings, especially the ones right before missions. The team should be those Natasha and Tony, alongside Steve, himself and you, but it’s been at least 20 minutes and you haven’t shown up yet.

Drifting off to the last night events he can’t believe he let that happen. When you got to the roof he thought that maybe that would be the opportunity to finally talk to you, come clean to whatever there might still lingering between you two. But like the damn coward he is, he chickened out, only for two seconds later, to fuck your brains out against the wall.

Jesus… he swears he can still taste you in his tongue, feel your velvet touch around him, the softness of your lips against his… He has no idea what came to his mind. He wasn’t really thinking. All he felt was the desperate need for you, like an addict who finally gets a taste of their drug of choice after a long time of abstinence.

Now, after the relapse, he has to deal with the hangover.

He had had no self-restraint. He was so fucking harsh on you…and you let him. He had you bare and vulnerable under his demanding touch and you let him do whatever he pleased, giving yourself fully to him, driving him fucking crazy.

You don't deserve this… the way he's been treating you ever since you came back. No matter what happened two years ago, you're not to blame for his own insecurities. You’re not to blame for how unstable he becomes when it comes to you. It's all on him.

Regret weighs on him over the way he left you there, wrecked and alone. But why the hell did you have to go and tell him you loved him? The moment he heard you saying that, holding him between your arms, sounding so fucking sincere… his heart thundered and swelled inside his chest, begging his dazed mind to believe you, to give himself to you the same way you had just done. But in his head, the reality of what you were saying mingled with flashes of the complete abandon he felt when he realized you were gone, and then him begging you to hear those same three words years ago that day in London. If that's the truth, if you truly love him, why did you run from him the way you did?

The sound of opening doors in front of him takes him out of his own thoughts.

“Hey, hey. Look who finally decided to grace us with her Director of SHIELD’s ass,” Tony exclaims, giving you a teasing smile.

As you walk to Tony with a tired smile and bend down to put your arms around him, Bucky can’t avert his stare from the dark circles around your eyes, which you clearly have tried to conceal with makeup. His stomach flips with shame, replaying in his head the way he left you the night before.

“How the hell did you manage to keep Pepper in a thousand years long honeymoon, old man?” You pat Tony’s shoulder wearing a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes by a long shot.

“Oh honey, I could tell you how, but Cap here would choke on his own guts, and you don’t want me to break America’s favorite toy soldier, do you?”

Nat and you chuckle and, as Steve rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to respond, Tony adds, “By the way, I heard last night was girls night, huh? A wild one, sugar?” He winks after giving you a once over.

As Bucky’s eyes widen, your hand flies to cover your neck in a clearly unconscious act and embarrassment etches in your face, which you quickly try to hide with tight lips.

“Ok, ok. Enough with the chit chat. Sit down, Y/N, I don’t have all day for this shit.”

Bucky thank the Gods for Natasha Alianovna Romanoff. Always saying the right thing at the right time.

Answering Tony’s grimace at her with a similar one, Nat pulls the chair beside her and in front of Bucky for you to sit, which you promptly do, delicately running your hand over your neck and not even once glancing at Bucky, switching your attention to Steve, instead, who pick up from where he’s left off.

His fists clench under the table, gripping the jeans over his thighs. The embarrassment you’ve shown at Tony’s comment feels like a punch in his guts. He’s disgusted at himself. He’s been that rough, if not rougher, with you during sex before, but this is completely different. Before, there was solely lust, desire and love behind his possessive, demanding actions. Last night there was desperation and even a twisted wish to somehow provoke harm, like some sort of retaliation… He feels like shit, like he’s taken advantage of you, like he’s truly hurt you. And hasn’t he done exactly that?

He’s a goddamn moron, that’s what he is. Fucking you like he did, instead of acting like a grown ass man and talking to you like Anna had told him to…

Anna...

Is what you said the truth? Is Anna really in love with him? Is he really so blind?

“Are you listening, Bucky?” Steve’s voice is stern.

Bucky blinks and look around, all eyes on him.

Except yours.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” He lies and nods at Steve, before his eyes seek yours again, only to see your distant gaze fixed on your hands over the table, as your fingers swiftly tug at one another.

“Let’s go, then.” Steve commands, switching off the holograms and leading the way to the jets after everyone promptly got up to follow him.

~~~

Everything happens so fast. The place where you busted the dealers is a construction site, huge and open. The team needed to disperse in order to deal with the unexpectedly large number of hostiles, who were heavily armed with all kinds of alien weaponry and tech.

You face each one of them who dare to cross your path with all you got. You are reckless, and don’t listen to Cap’s orders or anyone else’s words of warning through the coms. If they said there was too many hostiles at a certain spot, there would be; you don’t wait when they tell you to, don’t listen when someone told you need help and can’t do what you’re doing alone. All you see is red. From the enemy’s blood or yours, you can’t tell. This is what you do best, this is you. And right no all you can be is you. And all you can do is fight without anything else in your head and your heart.

You only stop when you finally hear his voice calling your name. He is shouting, calling for you, desperately, pleadingly, angrily. You turn around just in time to witness what happens next.

One of your opponents were right behind him as Bucky runs to you. You’re quick to take the man down with a single perfect shot from your gun, but not quick enough to stop him before he used a blaster to tear a thick piece of concrete from the construction. Your blood freeze as you see it crashing down towards Bucky’s direction. You sprint to him, screaming and calling his name, taking down whatever blurry figures that come between you and him.

You finally remember to breathe again when you finally get to him and see he has somehow managed to block the concrete, but his metal arm is stuck under the heavy block.

“We gotta get you outta here,” you pant, kneeling in front of him and pointlessly trying to move the block.

“It’s worthless, even I can’t move it.” He’s trapped with his side to the floor, holding his machine gun securely against him with his flesh hand, “There’s more coming, you gotta go,”

“Tony, Steve, where are you? Bucky’s stuck, we need you here,” You ignore him, shouting through the comms.

“I’m a little stuck myself, darling, gimme a minute.” The answer comes from Tony.

“I spotted you two, I’m coming over,” Steve replies.

And that’s when a buzzing sound catches both you and Bucky’s attention. You spot the shooter up in the building roof before the small red device attaches to the top of the block trapping his arm. Through the small screen, the countdown started: 15, 14…

“Get the fuck outta here,” Bucky screams and pushes you making you fall backwards.

You ignore the desperation etched on his face and in his voice to favor your own, as you get back up and bolts to the device, trying to pull it out of the rock, to no avail. Some damn alien shit...

10, 9…

“Steve, Tony…”

“Almost there,” Steve shouts back.

“It’s gonna fucking explode. I might be able to take it, you certainly can’t! Get the fuck out of here.” He gestures with his arm for you to go.

“I won’t leave you,” You cry out, still trying to unattach the small explosive.

7, 6…

“You’re gonna die, Y/N.” He desperately begs.

“And do you think I fucking care?” You snap, locking your gaze with his. Silencing him completely.

5, 4…

The ticking of the countdown in the background is all you can hear as you keep staring at each other.

His blue eyes are terrified and his parted lips are speechless.

3, 2…

“Back off.”

Tony’s voice makes you step back as he jumps to the device, easily hooking it off with a blast and tossing it to the sky just before the loud thunder of the explosion booms.

“Do you have a fucking death wish, Y/N? You were gonna blow the fuck up,” Tony yells at you at the same time he pulls the block off of Bucky’s arm.

You don’t answer. Steve, who has just arrived, gives you a concern expression, offering his arm to lift Bucky up who remains astonished and wordless, staring at you.

Terror still haunting his eyes.

~~~

The rides back home from missions are never cheerful. Even in victory, there’s always the regret, the feeling that more could’ve been done, the heavy weight of the casualties, the collateral damage, and the darkness that inevitably came with a fight.

However, you can’t remember ever feeling the way you feel now. The whole team is quiet; each one busy with their own demons, but also trying to digest what had almost just happened to you.

He’s sitting right across from you. You can feel the fire in his eyes burning into you. But you don’t dare to look at him.

The jet lands and you’re the first one to rush out, only nodding when Steve says he wants to see you in his office the next day.

You run to your room, leaving the door unlocked behind you. Breathing heavily, you sit on your bed and stare at the door. He will come, you know this. To scream and yell at you. Call you crazy and reckless. You know what you said and how it sounded. You’re not sure what it really meant for you, though.

But you know he won’t let this one go.

You wait for him.

~~~

It’s hard to contain the tremble on his hands as he rushes past the elevator and hurries over to the stairs, hoping the physical exertion would at least ease down a bit the hurricane inside him.

You were going to die. Right there in front of him. And it seemed like that was all you wanted at that moment. His throat is tight and he feels sick. So utterly sick at the thought. The way you came back, last night, the mission… This is not ok. You’re both a couple of fuck ups and it needs to end.

Right now.

His heart hammers with every step as he climbs up to her floor. He needs to see her, talk to her, listen to her voice.

He needs to calm the fuck down.

Bucky’s rushed pace halts completely when he meets the door in front of him. He takes in a deep breath and runs his hand over his damp locks before bumping his fists to the wood repeatedly.

A few seconds pass before the door opens and startled eyes meet his.

“Bucky?” She takes in his appearance, “Are you ok?”

“Is it true?” he ignores her questions, his eyes frantically analyzing her face, “Is it true that you’re in love with me?”

A small gasp slips Anna’s parted lips and her eyes widen even more while she takes an unconscious step back. He can tell she’s struggling with her mind before her jaw clenches and she straightens up her posture, keeping her gaze on him.

“Yes, it is,” she answers, simply, in a soft, yet full of resolution voice.

Bucky doesn’t even let the words sink in before he crashes his lips on hers.

~~~~

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky angst #angst #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes angst #looking for a heartbeat

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junhuiste · 6 years

Text

[ wonwoo - table for one ]

⌦ fluff, valentine’s day au bc i’m a slut for corporate america milking us dry for a heteronormative holiday, sweater + wholesome + soft feelings for wonwoo, cynical st8ments from reader about being a single pringle

⌦ lover birds are overrated

⌦ words: 2131

Heaving what was intended to be a sigh of waves of relief, had come out to be a somewhat tornado of mild shame, as you bid a measly attempt at holding your head high, jaunting through the massive doors of the restaurant.

Struck by an endless playlist of the same songs that belted out “you are my only one”, pairs of lovers scattered throughout, and the never ending, pricking sight of dozens upon dozens of hands tucked into one another for comfort or for show that were just enough to throw you over the brink and cause disgusting discomfort in your stomach, nothing but a faltering mumble fell out, “Y/N, and party of one.”

Instead of thrusting pity upon yourself after catching sight of the waiter’s parabolic smile flatten out to what resembled a woeful wince, you chuckled to yourself and reassured the waiter that it was truly okay that no one bothered to ask you out even though you kinda looked “hella cute” yesterday but that’s okay because not everyone can win at love!

Singles empowerment, you thought to bolster your slowly sinking mood. What had you in such a melancholy mood, you internally slapped yourself for, because goddammit this was supposed to be a “treat yourself” night but alas, you wallowed only to drown in self-pity. Okay, so maybe a hot date could’ve made the night better, but Christ, you were about to have a plate of steaming hot food instead, which was indeed ten times better than having to make eye contact in order to revive a conversation towards a partner across the table.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart!” chirped an overly bubbly woman to her husband, who both had just entered the restaurant.

Sigh.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.” you mocked her to yourself, an ugly, ugly green snake of envy slithered closer to your brain.

It wasn’t that you were an extremely resentful person, just so filled to the brim with an abysmal hate for every single goddamn person on earth, actually you were completely the opposite, but as you were on every February 14th, nothing could milk you dry of cynical statements and the putrid odor of annoyance. Of course, corporations would take advantage of this day, proposing billion dollar campaigns to dump buckets and buckets of pink and red everywhere but your heart.

As your turn to be called neared, any coveted thoughts induced by this godforsaken holiday started to leave you. You had better plans in mind than being sent over the edge for some overrated mind blowing orgasms, like the ones your roommate said she’d be receiving tonight, blegh, but instead losing your mind over a damn good drink and one hell of a good hot meal for yourself and you only.

The thought of that big ass plate being delivered to you surely did turn your frown upside down, because sharing, like orgasms, was overrated.

If there were one person, though, an intruding, spontaneous thought pervaded its way upon your train, that you’d want to take you out, what was the best answer out of A.) the cute boy that always scrunched his nose in the most adorable manner when he laughed B.) Jeon Wonwoo, C.) someone that could hold a powerful gaze and was shy and delightful (did you mention cute in an option yet?), or D.) the boy who just walked through the restaurant door with the gently yet menacing look and whipped his head around when a somewhat younger-ish looking version of him called “Wonwoo, come on.”

Wait–

The younger boy, who you assumed was Wonwoo’s younger brother, walked to the waiter to leave his name and party number, as the older stayed behind, hands in pockets, seemingly miserable and not wanting to be whacked by the knuckle of the Valentine’s day atmosphere.

Curiosity sprung upon you, wondering why Wonwoo took his brother to this restaurant, but you concluded that yes, he was just as quiet and sweet as that tiny Hershey’s Kiss your roommate threw at you like he seemed in your biochemistry class. He treated his younger sibling out to a nice dinner, and hat you really appreciated, though having only assumed, because he embraced the family part of love, and did not fall into capitalism’s dirty tricks of romance and didn’t bring a date, which sort of caused a stir within you, which really shouldn’t have because you weren’t a jealous person, but only for tonight–“Y/N, party of one!”

The part where corporations spent billions of dollars on splashing every nook and cranny with pink and red? Yeah, your cheeks were included, as you were seized up in utter humiliation in front of the rest of the customers patiently waiting, though all they wanted was good food and a good orgasm for later, but nonetheless, the world now knew how fucking lonely you were.

Before taking even one step, you spun your head out of worriedness to see if Wonwoo had heard that you were Single McFucking Pringle, and much to your dismay, what normally would’ve caused orange-winged monarchs to quiver around in your stomach instead provoked bees (as much as you wanted to save them) that left tiny little pricks of pure embarrassment.

You met a warm pair of dark brown eyes that held a certain tranquility, but you quickly turned back around to cover your flustered self.

“Come with me,” the waiter cordially lead you to a table and you could’ve tripped on air in response to the lack of dignity you had in this moment, but by the grace of the universe, which you barely trusted at this point, managed to get to the table without toppling over your sad self.

As soon as you were seated, eyes scoured the environment to search for those same pair of brown eyes that had met yours for a short second in time before you descended into disgrace. They were nowhere to be found for now, as Wonwoo and his brother were still in the waited seating area of the restaurant.

Maybe a tall glass of a little something special could’ve helped you get over your blunder and loneliness, which brought you here in the first place, but sure, a glass of water, I’m driving home tonight, no ice please worked just as fine.

Pouting a taut pair of pillows, you breathed in a pathetic pocket of air and sipped as the sight of the waiter leading only Wonwoo’s brother to a table. Perhaps Wonwoo had gone to wash his hands free of sin, but what sin did this boy commit, who you deemed a shy angel in your eyes, or maybe he’d gone and only dropped his brother off as a you owe me bro solid in exchange for a punch on the shoulder.

Maybe Wonwoo had a date of his own tonight, but the bare thought of that sent tiny bubbles into your straw, because you were getting caught up in the mere thought of this certain Jeon Wonwoo, who you’d just noticed was clad in an attire opposite his brother, who wore a button up rolled up to his elbows and slacks--a navy blue sweater paired with jeans and sneakers.

Who you’d just noticed…

Push, push these thoughts out! Goddammit this was your treat yourself night on the night of singles over doubles, celebrating you for some capitalistic reason, where that big plate would show up to your table anytime soon, but a faux smile from the waiter who wrongfully deceived you in the greatest act of treachery brought two plates to the table next to you.

Well shit, at least you’d get a look at Wonwoo again, who was seated with a ghost across the table, fiddling with his thumbs, to which you found extremely endearing because Jeon Wonwoo was an incredibly wholesome boy that you just really wanted to laugh at, with his nose scrunch, at your excruciatingly corny jokes.

Wonwoo’s eyes behind his specs found yours once again, as you continued to stare off into the realm of nothing while reevaluating your current life choices, but immediately deterred to this hands, thus you found yourself in sheer chagrin for the nth time tonight.

It’d be a few minutes before your food would arrive, so you left your trench coat on the back of the chair and trod to the restroom.

An eagle soaring over the vast region, eyeing its prey, your frenzied overlook at the restaurant was maybe more for the fact that your food was just being delivered to your table, or that Wonwoo kid.

Your heel felt entirely uncomfy but it was nothing that a minor tug on your shoe could fix, and while running a hand over your head trying to regain stability, you wobbled slightly but stood up straight after. Oddly enough, your mind was fixated on those two aforementioned things, ahem, someone, hence your dumbass to sort of stumble but not fall to the point of oh my fucking god you idiot into a dark-fabric covered shoulder.

Right before smoothing out you outfit, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention, Y/N,” rang in your ears for quite some time.

“No, no, don’t worry about it, um...Wonwoo! It’s my fault, I was just too excited that my food came,” you tried to play it cool and brush it off your shoulder, but all there was was dust, mixed with your confusion and distress.

Wonwoo’s hand reached up to tousle his side swept, charcoal colored hair and he chuckled, emitting an unmitigated radiance you’d only ever found to shine for him.

The stiff tension wasn’t fraught, somehow you found it to be quite natural, and the genial tone between both you and Wonwoo was very evident. He took a small breath in, “Um, no offense, really...I don’t want this to sound rude, so please don’t take this the wrong way because I don’t intend for this to come off the way it sounds but,” Wonwoo shifted his glasses a little.

It was Valentine’s Day, and it felt like being punched in the guts February 13th when someone cackled in your face at the thought of them taking you out, so you didn’t really know what to regard as rude anymore. For all you cared, Wonwoo could sock you in the face for being a stumbling idiot and you would fall to your knees and thank him.

A pause invaded the scene once more, and you clung onto Wonwoo’s words, wanting to know in what possible way he could be rude to you.

“Why are you sitting alone? I’m not judging by all means, but it’s the most barf-inducing yet “romantic” day of the year, and you managed to brace this face of not caring about this ludicrous holiday.”

You didn’t know what to expect with Wonwoo, no one ever did, as he was in a corner one day, to clapping his hands in laughter the next. If this was his definition of rude, anything you’ve ever done would be sinister.

Wonwoo was nothing but wholesome. And you reveled at the mere thought, well, you had the embodiment of precious in the flesh at your sight.

“Wonwoo, don’t apologize for that,” you said, “and evidently I don’t have a valentine, so I decided to treat myself out to dinner tonight. I mean, who cares about lover birds when you could be a lonely bird?”

A simper played out on lips, and thankfully it didn’t convey pity.

The thought came up in you, similar to what Wonwoo had just asked you and deemed “rude”.

“Wait, but Wonwoo, now I have a right to ask why you’re here by yourself?”

He almost looked like he was caught off guard, but shook his head assertively, “My younger brother has a date tonight and asked if I’d drop him off, then uh, I got hungry so I just had to stay and eat–”

It wasn’t a date after all, and you hated that you went out on a limb. But shit, your food had been sitting there for a good 2 minutes whilst you were getting caught up in your mutual loneliness with Jeon Wonwoo.

Wonwoo gaped his mouth a tad bit open to recollect his thoughts, but you were almost impatient because you had a fine ass boy in front of you, wanting to tell you everything, yet you felt like you were interrupting him with your gestures, and you had a plate back at the table.

“And then I saw you here, which compelled me to stay more than their Valentine’s Day dinner discount,” had left his mouth, come again?

There were no feelings of complex emotion coursing raw through your veins, you were simply dumbfounded and delighted.

“Y/N, can I join you at your table?”

bruh so my school’s broadcast/news televisor/tv did a segment on being by urself on valentine’s day yesterday so i rushed to the fucking library to write it asap and usually it takes me a week to plan out the plot but i wrote the plot for this in half a lunch period and wrote it last night and today

imma cry it usually takes me months to write a fic and i have one sitting in my drafts that i started in september and it ain’t even halfway done but i managed to whip this one up JUST FOR THE SAKE OF PUBLISHING ON VALENTINE’S DAY BYE

#wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo #seventeen #i'M SORRY IF It's SHITTY + it's just me bagging on america's billion dollar companies

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imaginesofeverykind · 7 years

Text

Family Holiday || Sam Drake x Reader ||

Characters: Sam Drake x Reader

Requested: Yup! By Anon, thank you this was cute! [Sam Drake x reader where they all go to vacation somewhere]

Prompt: You, Sam, Nate, Elena and Cassie all go on a family holiday to Australia. Despite a long history of dealing with a lot of weird shit, none of them is at all prepared to take on the most notoriously dangerous wildlife lurking around the hot continent.

Tags: @rafeadderall @dragonjedihobbit @shararogers @delicrieux @solarsystemus @roses-are-bae

Word Count: 2,000

A/N: This idea was something @missdictatorme and I were discussing, Sam being absolutely petrified of spiders despite being tough as shit. Also, I live in Australia, I can 14/10 confirm that crazy shit like this happens and has happened before in my own personal experience especially the fucking snake THEY ARE EVERYWHERE???? I also live in the country so we do see more shit than suburban folk. ENJOY

You woke up with a smile on your face, oh how Australia had been such a breath of fresh air for not just for you, but Sam, Nate, Elena and Cassie. Sam groaned beside you, feeling you had shifted. “Mornin.” He mumbled into the pillow, he was face down on the bed and you were sure he was trying to suffocate himself when he fell asleep like that.

“Good morning. It's a beautiful morning.” You grinned, peering out the window of the lovely apartment over looking rolling hills and beautiful vibrant farm land, The first week you all had done the typical touristy business, staying close to the city, visited the iconic Opera House and Harbour Bridge. Now the five of you stayed in an apartment further away from the city, wanting to experience wildlife to the fullest.

Next week you were all going to camp out in the wilderness.

“It’s also incredibly hot already, what time is it?” Sam rolled onto his side and looked at you as you checked your watch. “Almost ten, and according to my phone, it's too goddamn hot.” You informed him, making him groan. The sweat had already started forming on his skin as well as yours, but it didn’t deter your excitement.

You wanted to go for a walk at least today, not wanting to waste such a perfect day. “I’m gonna go down to that little convenience store on the corner before it gets too hot, you want anything?” You sweetly smiled at him, he shook his head and pulled you into a hug. “How about you just stay here all day?” Sam wiggled his eyebrows, not doubt they’d eventually have to get up but with the lack of noise coming from the room next to theirs, it indicated that neither Nate, Elena or Cassie were up.

“As charming as that sounds you are sweaty and gross and I’m hungry.” You kissed his lips briefly before hauling yourself out of bed. Changing into a pair of shorts and a tank top, Sam mumbled in resistance. You chuckled, bending down and kissing him once more, “don’t be a baby, I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

Sam tiredly waved as you exited the room and made your way down to the car park of the apartment block. So far everyone enjoyed themselves, but having lived through the things they had couldn’t prepare them at all for the intrusive behaviour of Australia’s wildlife.

You had walked outside with a smile on your face, seeing some young people out and about walking their dogs and elderly people out for a stroll. How they were so used to this beautiful country was beyond your capacity. You hadn’t walked too far when you stop abruptly, a shriek escaping your lips unintentionally.

Right by your feet was a snake, seemingly peering up at you, poking its tongue out. Sure you’d seen snakes before but this one was too close for comfort. You were stuck at what to do, Australia had some of the most venomous snakes around so you could just run away as much as you like to.

Pulling out your phone, carefully as to not provoke the snake by sudden movements and you rang Sam. “Sam!” You gritted as he answered, “You’ve been gone two minutes and you're already calling me?” You rolled your eyes, glancing down at the snake that was rather content by your feet getting the hot rays of the sun.

“Shut up! There’s a snake in front of me, I don’t know what to do-.”

“Give it a kick Y/N it’ll be fine.”

You pulled away the phone and looked at it in disbelief before bringing it back to your ear once again. “Give it a kick? Sam, are you kidding me? It could bite me?” You tried your best not to yell at him in fear of pissing the snake off by your feet. He sighed on the end and chuckled, oh how he loved stirring you up, “Alright - I'm coming down now.”

“Thank you.” You murmured and ended the call, placing your phone back in your pocket as you bit your lip in concern. “You alright?” A voice startled you, turning your attention to a man who had been watching you from afar. His accent indicated he was local, and given by the fact he seemed completely amused by the situation you were stuck in.

“As all right as I can be with a snake on my feet.” You cringed, laughing nervously. “You’re not from around here?” He raised his eyebrow and started walking toward you, you nodded, every so often glancing between him and the snake. “No... I’m that easy to point out?”

“Well, not just the accent but you are wearing shorts and singlet in twenty-four-degree heat.” He chuckled, he himself was wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt seemingly unbothered by the temperature. You cringed as you felt the snake slither over your feet, again the local had found it hilarious.

He stood just a few feet away from you and examined the snake. “Oh yeah, she’s a nasty looking one, good thing you have your head screwed on or else -.” he motioned with his thumb and his throat to gesture death which made you feel uneasy. “r-really?” You gulped and he scoffed laughing and bending over. “Oh na, I’m fucking with you this is just a coastal taipan, they are nervous little things though so It’s great you didn’t startle her.” He ever so carefully gripped the snake at its head and pulled it off the ground.

He walked over to the fence line that separated the apartment building to a seemingly docile beach house. It ferociously whipped around in his grip and you held your breath, scared that it might bite him however he effortlessly tossed the snake over the fence as if it were mere rubbish.

“Thank you, I appreciate it, w-won’t it bother the people who live there now though?” You finally moved from your spot and he chuckled waving that notion away, “guy’s a complete asshole, that snake is his problem now. You’re welcome. While I'd love to stick around and save every tourist from our lovely wildlife I must be going.” He politely waved and headed to his car.

Sam - his timing impeccable, as always - finally made it down to you and looked around seeing no such snake near you. “It’s fine, a local helped out.” You assured him and he shook his head, “I'm thinking you called me just to get me out of bed.”

“Well... now that you’re up...”

That had been the first instance, the second instance was far funnier and that involved the five of you camping. You had just set up the tent, content with your placement in the wilderness away from society. You were unpacking things from the truck with Cassie when Sam had cursed loudly, followed by an out of breath Sam pointing at the tent.

“What? What’s got you so worked up?” You raised an eyebrow at him, he was hunched over trying to get his breath when he finally stood upright, he pointed at the tent. “Huge spider. Probably venomous. Don’t go in there.” You laughed at him, Cassie joined in on the laugh as well, “Wait-wait is Sam Drake scared of spiders?”

“If you saw the look of this one yeah, you’d be scared too!” He argued, making you laugh even more. “Don’t worry, pest control is here.” You pulled out a can of bug spray from one of your supply boxes and walked into the tent. Your eyes widened, gee Sam wasn’t kidding. A hostile looking spider stood its ground on the blow-up mattress meant for you and Sam.

There was no way you were going to pick it up or even spray it, just in case it jumped up at her. A devious plan crossed your mind and you screamed out loud, running out of the tent clutching your arm. “Sam! It bit me!” You looked at him with wide eyes, he immediately rushed to your aid, you glanced at Cassie and winked at her so she knew you were joking.

“Oh Jesus, does it hurt? We’ll need to take you to a hospital-.” Cassie cut him off and shook her head, joining in on the prank, “I read about these spiders before in class, they have a nasty bite... Not deadly but if we don’t treat it then she could lose an arm.” You were impressed with Cassie’s improvisational skills and resisted the urge to smile.

Nate and Elena finally emerged from their tent to investigate the commotion, “guys! what’s with all the yelling?” Nate looked at the three. Sam was pacing like he was a headless chicken, he didn’t know what to do, “Y/N - she’s been bitten by a spider!”

Both Nate and Elena immediately came over to your aid only Cassie stopped them, “don’t rush her, she could pass out, we need to treat it immediately.” during this exchange Cassie had been winking at her parents, hoping that they understood what was actually going on here.

Poor Sam, he was the only one left out of the joke by now. Elena nodded at her daughter and walked over to you, soothing you as best she could. “You mind if we take a look?” She asked you and you nodded, you turned slightly so Sam wouldn’t suspect anything and you lifted your hand from around your arm. Both Nate and Elena gasped and cringed far too over dramatic.

“Oh Christ, Y/N that’s bad, that looks very, very bad!” Nate ran his hands through his hair and looked at his incredibly panicked older brother. He’d never seen Sam so panicked before in his life, it was incredibly amusing even though there would be hell to pay after this whole ordeal is over. “Let me see.” Sam walked over to you softly, you bit back your laugh as you moved your hand and revealed nothing there at all.

“What?” He took a step back and looked at everyone who had shit eating grins on their faces. “Are you guys kidding me?- I thought you were hurt?” He looked at you seriously and you grinned shaking your head, “of course not, trust me if a spider bit me, you’d know about it.”

Sam breathed out a sigh of relief, letting relief glide through him before it was replaced by annoyance and anger. “I can’t believe you guys did this!” He threw his hands in the air and rubbed his face. You still laughed but you made your way over to him and gripped his waist. “I’m so mad at you right now.” He mumbled but wrapped his arms around you.

Even though he was annoyed he was by no means mad at you at all, he was just glad you were all right. You looked up at him and something caught your eyes, stepping away from him you cringed lightly, “Sam what would you do If I said that spider was on your back...” You saw the spider's legs creepily crawl up his back and you shivered.

“Oh you’re real funny, I’ve had enough practical jokes for one day.” He waved you off and you shook your head, “No, I’m being serious.” You warned him, it had managed to crawl up his shoulder and he turned his head seeing that same large spider from in the tent. He was silent momentarily, not moving, not making a sound. Then it was like a bomb went off and he made a huge fuss over it, running around the camp shaking it off furiously while patting himself down and yelling like a teenage girl.

“Jesus Christ Sam, could you scream any louder?” You cringed once he came to a stop, once he released the spider was no longer on him. “This place is the worst, I want to go home,” Sam grumbled making everyone laugh.

#U4 #uncharted #Sam Drake #Imagine #One Shots #Request #sam drake x reader

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nekojitachan · 7 years

Note

Please please please post us something ??? I miss your writing like an owner missing his beloved pet!! Anything you have or just bits of it. Please!!??????

Hmm, I’m really trying to get Heartlines ch5 done soon - I’m not sure it’ll be up for next Sunday, but maybe the following Wednesday? That said, here’s a little peek at the next part of The First Breath. It’s the start of the story (I’ll probably clean this up a little and expand upon it):

Eh… very brief mention of an abusive mother? Think that’s the only trigger here.

*******

It still amazed Andrew that he not only had his ownapartment to call ‘home’, a large loft with a freezer stocked with multiplepints of ice cream and a cabinet with liquor and the entire place warded tokeep out almost everyone, but that he shared the place with Neil. That when hereturned to a space that wasn’t just a building where he was staying for acertain amount of time but where he felt safe and content and had made it hisown, there was a gorgeous idiot waiting for him with a bright smile.

A gorgeous idiot waiting for him with a bright smile whilestretched out on their bed with two cats, with more cats curled up all throughtheir home.

All right, Andrew could accept that it was his life, allthings considered. Especially when he caught sight of King lying on hisfavorite black sweater, her grey hair now all over it. Yet before he couldbitch at the cat, Neil rose up in an obvious invitation for a kiss. “Thatdidn’t take long.”

Andrew settled for glaring at the cat, which of course ignoredhim, as he set aside the bag of hot chocolate mix which he’d ‘run’ out for inanticipation for the ‘family’ dinner before he leaned in to oblige his idiot.“No, Renee was right in that the one store had it.” Granted, the store had beenin Toronto, but that was a minor thing when all it had taken was a thought andhe’d been there a moment later.

“Hmm.” Neil’s hands hovered around Andrew’s shoulders for afew seconds before Andrew grasped them gently by the wrist and draped themaround his neck to show it was all right to hold onto him, then ran his ownhands along the front of the idiot’s chest while he deepened the kiss. Theydidn’t have much time… he didn’t havemuch time, but soon enough they both were lying down on the bed while King andSir let out displeased meows and jumped off, Andrew’s hands beneath Neil’st-shirt and Neil’s hands in his hair.

It was when Andrew took to skimming his lips along the topof the black collar around Neil’s throat and his left hand began to slipbeneath the waistband of Neil’s dark grey jeans that he reminded himself of whycontinuing things past that point would be ‘bad’, even though he had a feelingthat in another half an hour he’d greatly regret stopping now and getting upfrom the bed. With a slight sigh of regret, he pulled away from his lover,which provoked a displeased sound from Neil which sounded a bit reminiscent ofwhat the cats had made a couple of minutes before (Neil needed to hang out withRenee or Dan some more, dammit, and less at home with all the cats).

“Come on,” Andrew told him as he dragged his idiot upright.“When is the asshole going to be here?” Once Neil was sitting with a scowl onhis face, he let him go to grab the bag of hot chocolate mix.

“Uhm.” Now Neil appeared thoughtful as he considered somethingthen sighed. “Very soon.”

“Great.” Andrew headed to the kitchen, mindful of thekittens from the litter temporarily taking up residence near the coffee able,so he could have a glass of whiskey before having to deal with both Wrath andthe dinner. “Sure you can’t hang out with Renee or Matt for the night instead?”

“Renee has planswith Allison,” Neil told him as he followed along, still somewhat bemused byAndrew’s insistence on calling their fellow Named Ones by their ‘mortal’monikers but playing along as always, “and Matt has been going on about somenew game coming out.” He shuddered a little as he mentioned his friend.“Supposedly he has high hopes of being able to beat Tem- ah, Jean on it, so Ifear if I go spend time with him, he’ll force me to play it so he canpractice.”

Hmm, it sounded as if Jean was off on another ‘not-date’with Jeremy that evening. Andrew didn’t understand why it was taking someonewho otherwise appeared intelligent so long to pick up the fucking clue that areasonably attractive (if one liked annoying and almost always cheerful morons)guy adored them. Then again, it was becoming clear that Riko had fucked up Jeanin various ways over the years that he’d kept the Virtue magically chained inservitude to the prick, a thought that made Andrew slosh a good bit of whiskeyinto the glass tumbler then toss it back with haste.

Riko was nevergetting anywhere near Neil again, so Andrew would just have to suffer throughWrath being in his home that evening while he was out at Bee’s, since she haddeclared the weekly ‘family’ dinners a time for Andrew, Aaron and Nicky to getto know each other better without any ‘respective others’ (meaning Neil andErik) to be there as a distraction (to be insulted by Aaron, for Neil to sayhis weird, unfiltered shit or for Erik to take offense at Aaron’s insults onNicky’s and Neil’s behalves).

Neil came over to stand beside Andrew until their shouldersbrushed together with a purring Sir held in his arms, and some of the angersettled in Andrew at the contact. He felt the urge to unfurl his wings and wrapthem around his lover, to slip betweento some high rooftop where the two of them could look out over a city,somewhere peaceful and safe and blocked off from the world, but he had hisobligations tonight. He’d promised Bee to help her with Aaron, had answered hisbrother’s call and taken that step to save him, so he could only miss a dinnerif another call pulled at him or if there was something equally important.

Unfortunately for him, trading insults with Neil’s uncle fora couple of hours or making out with his lover didn’t qualify as that‘important’.

He debated another glass of whiskey when there was afamiliar rush of power followed by an quick knock on the front door, and sighedagain when Neil smiled as he went to allow their guest into the loft.

/The angry one is visiting?/ Sir asked as she twisted herhead back to look at Neil.

“Yes, for a little bit.”

/Hmm, he brought treats last time./

Neil set her down before he opened the door to admit Wrath,who was dressed in light grey slacks and a white button-down shirt without avest, tie or jacket – in other words, rather informal for once. He held thestrings to a gift bag in his left hand, and judging from the way that King cametrotting forward and Sir’s black ears perked up, he continued to bribe the damncats. “Looking good, kiddo,” he said as he reached out to tousle Neil’s unrulyauburn curls.

“Thank you.” Neil suffered the affectionate gesture with agenuine smile before he stepped out of the way. “You look good, too.”

“Been busy as fuck, but I can’t complain.” Wrath’s grey eyesnarrowed a little when he caught sight of Andrew, then he shrugged. “Broughtsome of those butter biscuits you really like, figured we’d have them and sometea.”

“Well, this party is getting too out of control for me, timeto leave,” Andrew drawled while Wrath huffed and made a rude gesture in hisdirection; he doubted that he and the Vice would ever be good friends, but theywere unified in their determination to keep a certain idiot safe and that wasenough common ground for them.

“I think you need to get the place sprayed for fleas, kiddo.Seems to be an annoying one buzzing around here,” Wrath commented as he set thebag down on the kitchen island.

“Not funny,” Neil sighed, but before he could chide hisuncle for the pathetic joke, Andrew grasped his lover by the chin and pulledhim in for a quick kiss.

“Try not to do anything too stupid with the old fart thereand save me some cookies,” Andrew told him right before he slipped between, and left with the sight ofNeil’s smile in his mind and Wrath’s gruff voice calling out ‘little shit’before he appeared in Bee’s kitchen.

There was the smell of garlic and meatloaf in the air, andBee paused in checking a boiling pot to stare at him for a couple of seconds.“I still can’t get over that,” she said with a smile as she pushed up herfogged glasses.

She accepted the fact that Andrew and Aaron were demi-gods,that Nicky was a powerful witch, that Andrew had taken on the Aspect of a Furyand meted out justice and vengeance, that there were times he bore wings andfangs and claws… and it was the teleportation which left her amazed. He shookhis head as he held up the bag of hot chocolate. “I got you more of that mixyou liked.”

Her smile strengthened as she wiped her hands on her hipsthen reached for it. “Thank you.” She set the bag aside on the counter thenlooked him up and down as if to take in the finely knit black sweater, theblack jeans and ankle boots. “Hmm, being a mythological creature appears toagree with you.”

“Amusing,” he told her while he filched a slice of breadfrom the basket set out on the counter and began to break it apart to eat it. “Where’sAaron?”

“He went to get changed after helping me prepare dinner.”She checked the pot one more time before turning off the oven. “How’s Neil?”

“The same as always. Nicky made the mistake of showing himWikipedia a few days ago so now I have to make sure to limit his time on theinternet or he’ll spend hours correcting ‘the many, many erroneous events foolish humans keep asserting took place inhistory.’ Which is usually followed by the question, ‘Andrew, do mortals knowwhat the word ‘history’ means?’.” He rolled his eyes while glancing around thebottle of wine Bee had to have out on the counter somewhere, and started for itonce he caught sight of it.

Bee did her best to bite back on a laugh and didn’t sayanything when he started to uncork the bottle, having given up by then onlecturing Andrew on ‘underage drinking’; he wasn’t ‘human’ and a few glasses ofwine wouldn’t affect him, that and he no longer drove. Hell, ever since he tookon the aspect of Tisiphone and ‘Andrew Joseph Dobson’ had for all intents andpurposes disappeared from the world, the Fates had twisted things so that Nickyhad ended up with Andrew’s car. He’d be a bit bitter about that, but he couldgo anywhere he wanted with a mere thought and had ‘inherited’ enough money withthe Aspect to buy a few dozen fancy sports cars if he was so inclined.

“Yes, that does sound like him. You’ll have to bring himover soon, I do enjoy listening to his stories.” Bee smiled as she reached intothe oven to pull out the meatloaf, while Andrew poured her a glass of wine aswell.

She’d just reached for the glass when Aaron entered thekitchen, dressed all in black much like Andrew – however, that was where theirsimilarities ended. Unlike Andrew, Aaron didn’t have a fancy black credit cardand a nice huge bank account, so his style relied more on Nicky’s and Bee’scharity (well, and a bit on Andrew’s, considering that he’d given Bee somemoney back in November and December and told her to pass it off as presentsfrom her for the ungrateful bastard) than anything else. There was also thefact that Andrew had never looked like such a sullen asshole ever in his life. “Oh,you’re here already,” Aaron said with a faint sniff as he folded his arms overhis chest. “Wonderful.”

The smile faded a little from Bee’s mouth as she glancedover at her latest project. “We were just talking about Neil.”

Aaron’s lips twisted a little upon hearing the name ofAndrew’s lover. “What, we’re starting it already? Nicky’s not even here yet andI have to put up with how great and perfect things are with everyone but me?”He scowled at Andrew, who merely stood there drinking his wine, well used tothe current rant. “Having fun playing house with the scary freak-“

“Aaron,” Bee warned as she set her own wine aside and gaveAndrew’s twin a narrowed look.

“-and you go around messing up other people’s lives, huh?Kill anyone else’s mom today?” Aaron taunted him.

“Aaron! That was uncalled for,” Bee said, but before shecould go on about displacement or some other bullshit, Andrew shook his head.

“Not today,” he informed his brother. “But I did kill one acouple of days ago, some drunken bitch who’ll never harm her daughter again.”Andrew ‘smiled’ at Aaron, an expression that had too much sharp teeth in it,and didn’t stop even when Aaron flinched from the sight and Bee drained herwineglass. “Funny how the girl was so grateful for what I did, how all of themare grateful, except for my own flesh and blood.”

“But… she… I don’t….” Aaron sputtered into silence and shookhis head, his expression no longer one of utmost petulance and spite but ofconfusion instead. He wrapped his arms around himself until Bee gave a lighttouch to his left shoulder.

“Go check the table, will you?” she asked, and after aslight start he nodded then hurried into the dining room. Bee watched him gobefore looking over at Andrew. “He’s… well, he’s trying a little,” she offered.“At least he’s talking about it now. It’s small steps but it’s something.”

It was Aaron blaming Andrew for doing something Aaron hadbeen unable to do, for Aaron being unwilling to let go of the past when he finallyhad a future in front of him. Not for the first time, Andrew regretted beingunable to let go of things himself, since he was now stuck with Nicky andAaron, with a pest of a cousin and an ungrateful shit of a brother. All thatand he still had dinner to get through with both of them.

#the first breath fic #tfc fanfic #Andreil #tfc #aftg fic #aftg

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