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kkodzvken · 3 years

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suit up - hawks x f. reader

the one where keigo marries the girl of his dreams, and then takes her home and shows her just how loved she is. title cred/inspo: suit up by jonghyun

notes/warnings: smut and fluff (your teeth may rot and fall out, you’ve been warned), soft dom!keigo, praise kink, slight size kink, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex + creampie. reader and kei use the traffic light safe word system and they review it beforehand, and he checks in with her at one point but she’s green, so everything is 100% consensual. they flirt + kei says explicit things at the reception but nothing /actually/ happens in public. mentions of alcohol

wc: 5.3k

a/n: this idea’s been bouncing around my head for a while bc i wanna marry this dumbass so bad :’) my first full hawks fic!! im so happy hehe

Beautiful.

You’re so beautiful.

Keigo’s always known, of course. He’s found you beautiful since the very first moment that he laid his eyes on you, all those years ago. He tells you that you’re beautiful every single day, no matter how much you roll your eyes or jokingly tell him to shut up.

You’re beautiful all the time, but there are certain moments that leave him especially breathless. The day that you foolishly challenged Rumi to an arm-wrestling match. The determined look in your eye as you clenched your fist, sweat dripping down your brow and arm muscles straining (you lost, of course – the rabbit hero was ridiculously jacked). The brilliant smile that graces your face whenever he brings you flowers or little souvenirs from his work trips. The very first morning after you moved into his penthouse, when he woke up next to your peaceful sleeping form, and realized that he’d have mornings like this for the rest of his life.

The day that he flew you up to the mountains for a starlit picnic. The smile on your face as you polished off your meal, and the way that your hand flew up to your mouth when he got down on one knee. Your teary-eyed look of pure love as he slipped the ring onto your finger, the diamond gleaming like one of the stars that shone down on you. The way that your eyes rolled back and your legs wrapped around his waist when he took you home and fucked you for hours.

And right now. Keigo swore that his heart damn near burst at the sight of you. The organist was playing, but he couldn’t hear the notes, couldn’t hear anything besides the blood rushing in his ears. Your hands clasped an elegant flower bouquet, and Keigo was sure that the blossoms were pretty, but he couldn’t spare even a second to glance at them. No, his entire focus was trained on you. You, with your beautiful dress that perfectly accentuated the body that he loved so much. When your eyes raised to meet his, and that perfect smile worked its way across your face… he had to bite his inner cheek to try and hold the tears back.

In a simultaneous eternity and heartbeat, you were handing off your bouquet to a bridesmaid and clasping Keigo’s large hands with your much smaller ones. The officiant was speaking, but Keigo didn’t process any of it. The sight of your eyes shining up at him, more beautiful than any of the stars in the night sky, was the only thing anchoring him to the world. He felt like he was floating through a dreamscape with only you, the happiness in his chest powerful and all-encompassing.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You’re talking to a group of your old friends from high school when a tap against your shoulder grabs your attention, and you turn to see your fiancé – no, your husband – smirking down at you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. “Excuse me, ladies,” he says to your friends. “Mind if I steal her for a moment?” His amber eyes glint mischievously, and you swear that a whole swarm of butterflies take flight in your stomach.

Your friends giggle and nod, and then Keigo’s spinning you around so that you’re face-to-face. He’s stunning, in his black suit and red dress shirt, the shade of crimson matching his wings perfectly. “Dance with me, dove,” he says, before leaning down to press a quick kiss against your lips. You nod, and he leads you towards the center of the venue, where most of your guests are dancing to some cheesy pop song. Keigo nods at the DJ, who nods back and switches to the music. Soft synth notes travel through the speakers, before the singer’s dreamy voice floods your ears.

Your hands find their way to his broad shoulders. His wings move to wrap around you protectively. You’re not sure if he even realizes that he does it – it’s such a normal thing, now, for him to shield you, to create a little cocoon for the two of you. You frown as you feel his muscles moving underneath your fingers. “You’re too tense,” you say, fingers gently kneading at the parts of his back that you can reach. “Let me give you a massage once we get home.”

He chuckles, one of his own hands coming up to capture yours. He laces your fingers together before bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss against your skin. The look he gives you is so tender, the love radiating off his body so palpable, that it makes your knees feel week. “Sweet, but I’m the one who’s going to be taking care of you tonight.” You open your mouth to protest, but he tuts, and a feather flies up to shush at your lips. “No, listen. You’re driving me crazy. Every time I turn my head, I see you looking so damn beautiful that my heart stops. Makes me wanna just pull you away and rip that pretty dress off.”

You gasp at his words, a pretty blush dusting your cheeks. “Kei! People are gonna hear you!”

He shrugs, pulling you even closer and swaying your bodies lightly to the music. “Let them,” he says nonchalantly, but the glint in his eye is pure sin. He leans down so that his lips brush against the shell of your ear. You can’t help the shudder that wracks through your body as his warm breath hits your skin. “You’re so cute when you’re blushing like that. Did I make you flustered, baby?” His fingers release yours, instead gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his eyes. “Answer me, love.”

You nod, feeling small. Only Keigo can affect you like this, can reduce you to a trembling mess with just a few words.

You love it.

He smirks at your confession, pressing a kiss against your cheek before leaning his forehead against yours. “What do you say we jump ship, babe?” Your confusion must show on your face, because he continues. “I think I might die if I have to wait much longer to get my hands on you. And judging by the way you’re acting… I’d bet good money that you’re already dripping for me.”

“Kei!” You swat at his chest before burying your face in it. He laughs, one of his real, genuine laughs that makes your heart soar, before kissing the crown of your head.

“I don’t see you denying it.”

“Shut up.”

“Aw, is my cute little wife flustered?”

Wife. The word sounds so pretty rolling off his lips that you can’t resist retreating from the safety of his chest to press your lips against his. He cups your face with one of his large, rough hands and kisses you back. His wings shift to cover you up before the hand on your waist moves down to pinch at your ass – or, at least, it tries. The layers of your dress obstruct him, and he growls in frustration.

You can’t help but whine as well. You want him all the time, of course. Years of being together haven’t changed how fucking badly you want him all the time. You’d used up all your willpower behaving for the ceremony and the reception so far. You’d been good, had kept your hands to yourself throughout dinner and the toasts. But now, the mix of his body against yours, the dirty words that he’d whispered into your ear, and the cocktails running through your bloodstream were making it very hard for you to ignore the pooling heat between your legs.

You wanted him. You wanted your husband.

“Please,” you whisper. Under normal circumstances, you’d hate how whiny and pathetic you sound, but you’re too far gone to care. “Please, let’s go, Kei. Need you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A few whispered words to Rumi, and a knowing smirk from her, and you were gone. It was surprisingly easy to slip out the venue. You’d expected to be stopped by some nosy family member, but it seemed that everyone was too tipsy and having too much fun to care. Nevertheless, you had to be careful once you stepped out into the fresh night air. The number two hero’s wedding was perfect paparazzi bait. You didn’t even want to think about the feeding frenzy that the media would go into if they caught sight of you now.

The night sky was like a shield, though, and it protected you from prying eyes. You’d been discreet when picking the wedding and reception venues, and even more discreet in choosing your honeymoon destination. Tomorrow morning, you and Keigo would fly up to the mountains, where he’d rented a little cabin for the two of you. By some miracle, he’d managed to get a whole week off work – a whole week where you’d have him, entirely to yourself.

But right now, you aren’t thinking about tomorrow morning, or the lovely, peaceful honeymoon that you were about to embark on. Right now, the only thing you can think about is Keigo. Keigo, with his beautifully messy hair that moved like ocean waves as you soared through the air. There’s nothing in this world that you love more than flying with him, pressed against his sturdy body with his strong arms wrapped around you. Light pollution makes it hard to see the sky from the ground, but up here, the moon and stars are breathtaking.

Almost as breathtaking as your husband, who’s eyes are prettier than any stars could ever hope to be.

He looks down and catches you staring, taking him in with your wide, wondrous eyes. You can barely hear anything through the noise-cancelling headphones that he makes you wear whenever you fly, but his words reach you, clear as day – “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Your voice comes out small, stolen away by the rushing wind. You try again, louder this time. “I love you!”

He chuckles, chest shaking as he tries to keep his laughs contained. “You trying to one-up me? I can be loud too.” He takes a deep breath, before tipping his head back and shouting an I love you up into the heavens.

His lips are soft and sweet as candy when they dip down to meet yours. “I’m just so happy,” he whispers against you. “You make me so happy.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The moment that you set foot into the penthouse, you gasp.

“Oh, Kei,” you breathe, hand flying over your mouth.

He bounces nervously as he locks up the balcony door, not meeting your eye. “Do…do you not like it?”

You march up to him and grab his face in your hands, before standing up onto your tip-toes and planting a kiss on his forehead. “I love it, baby. Really, you’ve outdone yourself.”

He perks up at the praise, kissing your lips once before his hands move down and he picks you up, clean off the ground. You can’t hold your shrieking laugh back as he spins you around, a smile lighting up his face like a god damn Christmas tree.

The house is beautiful. Really, he did outdo himself. Back when you’d first started dating, he’d had to call off your six-month-anniversary date because of a mission. You’d assured him that it was fine, that you understood, but you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t upset. He promised that he would be back in a week at the latest. You’d spent the night with your friends, eating ice cream and watching shitty movies, and left for work the next morning. You weren’t expecting him back for a few days at least, but when you opened your door after an exhausting day at work, he was there, waiting for you. Scratches on his face and bandages on his arms, but he was there. And he’d decorated your apartment with flowers and fairy lights, centered around a haphazardly made blanket fort in the center of the living room. Little candles were placed across the room, each with a red feather standing guard, making sure that the flames didn’t accidentally get knocked over and grow. After you’d gotten over your initial shock – how the hell did you get in here, Kei – you ran into his arms and squeezed him, tight. He didn’t let go of you for the entire night – his body always pressed against yours, fingers constantly entwined, even as he made you cum so many times that you forgot your own name.

It was one of your fondest memories, one that always brought a smile to your face. You’d mentioned it offhandedly last week, while you were in the weeds with wedding planning. Honestly, you didn’t think that he’d even heard what you said, with how stressed and busy the two of you were. He was picking up extra patrols to make up for his honeymoon vacation time, and you were working your ass off to get your overbearing boss off your back.

But he had heard. He heard, and he listened, because that’s just the kind of lover – the kind of husband – that Keigo is. Attentive, sweet, and intuitive. You swear, he spoils you beyond belief. You don’t even know when he got the time to decorate the apartment today, but it’s beautiful. Even more beautiful than the decorations from your six-month-anniversary, because this time, the sight is sweetened by the knowledge that this is your shared home. This isn’t just your apartment, that your friends helped sneak him into so he could fancy it up. This is your shared space, where you’ll spend the rest of your lives together. Where you’ll wake up in his arms every morning, his wings wrapped around you protectively, fragmenting the morning light into shards of red. Where you’ll make meals together and laugh at his bad cooking, where you’ll take sanctuary from the harshness of the world. This place is your home. Keigo is your home.

He finally stops spinning, but refuses to set you down. Instead, he readjusts you so that he’s carrying you bridal style. You almost laugh at how cliché it is. It feels like something out of a cheesy rom-com, but you’re so happy that you feel like you’re in one of those rom-coms.

You do laugh out loud when you see the trail of petals leading to your bedroom. Keigo feigns disappointment, dramatically sighing. “Don’t laugh, princess, you wound me.” That just makes you laugh even more, and soon, he’s joining in, burying his face in your hair as he walks the two of you towards the bed. “C’mon, I’m trying to be romantic! Quit making me laugh!”

“I can’t help it,” you giggle as he gently places you onto the bed. Thankfully, he had the common sense to not put any petals on the actual bed, but the floor is absolutely covered. Blossoms line the walls as well, along with candles that bathe the room in their gentle glow. You take a second to admire how beautiful your husband looks in the soft light. The shadows make his wings seem that much bigger as they unfurl to their full size. He looms over you, looking like the most delicious mix of devil and angel that you’ve ever seen. There’s still a playful smile on his face, but something mischievous simmers beneath it.

“Hope you didn’t forget what you said at the reception hall, baby,” he says, eyes glinting. “What was it? Hmm, something like, need you, Kei, need you to take me home and fuck me, I’m already so wet for you.”

You groan and try to bury your face in your hands, but he’s too fast. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, easily wrapping them with just one of his large hands. “You’re making shit up,” you pout. “I only said the first part.”

“So you admit you said it? That you need me?”

“Shut up.”

“Mm, no thanks.”

You groan again, trying to suppress your smile. There are plenty of times that you and Keigo have had “serious” sex, but you mostly find yourself like this, devolving into giggles and teasing. There’s something about him that makes you feel so safe and at ease, and you can’t help yourself from giggling at his stupid remarks. He laughs, and releases your wrists to cradle your face with both his hands. He shifts so that he’s properly on top of you, his thighs on either side of your hips, and bends down to press kisses all over your face.

“My wife,” he breathes, in between kisses. “My sweet, beautiful, amazing wife. This dress is so pretty, but let’s take it off, my love. You don’t need it anymore.”

It takes a few minutes of awkward wriggling and tugging to finally remove the lace monstrosity, but at long last, the dress ends up on the floor. Keigo’s hands are on your body in an instant, fingers trailing over the curve of your waist and snapping the waistband of your panties. “God, you’ve got such pretty little lingerie on.”

“Wanted to dress up for you,” you say, pawing at his tie and trying to loosen the knot. It makes you feel small, to be so exposed while he’s still fully dressed. Normally you love to savor in that feeling, but right now, you need to feel his bare skin against yours. “Now take your clothes off, please.”

You finally manage to loosen his tie enough to pull it over his head. After stopping for another deep kiss, your hands continue their path over his body. His suit jacket comes off next, although he has to help you gently maneuver it off his wings. His cuff links clatter to the ground as you almost viciously rip off his dress shirt, and you moan when you finally feel his warm muscles.

You’re practically grinding into each other by now. Little whines leave your lips as you shamelessly roll your hips, seeking any friction you can get. You can feel his hardness, even through his thick pants, and you chase it with vigor. He’s not much better, a light blush dusting his face as he meets your rolls with shallow thrusts of his own. “Off, off, Kei, need to feel you,” you babble, fingers desperately trying to undo this belt buckle. Breathlessly, he pushes your fingers aside and pulls his belt off, unceremoniously throwing it across the room. You half expect it to collide with a candle and set the entire building on fire, but a few feathers fly out to catch it and gently set it down.

You don’t waste a second in pulling his pants down and throwing them as well, trusting that a feather will keep it from crashing into anything. Your fingers try to pull down the waistband of his boxers, but he tuts and grabs your hand.

You look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please,” you whine.

The smile on his face is gentle beyond belief as he answers. “I told you that I was going to take care of you tonight, baby. Let me make you feel good, okay? Can I make you feel good?”

You want to protest, want to beg him to stuff your face or your cunt and fuck into you until you’re lightheaded, but Keigo’s insistent about making you cum at least twice before even thinking about his own pleasure. And you can’t deny that you’re aching for him. You’re certain that you’ve soaked through your flimsy panties by now, and your mind is hazy with want.

You nod. Keigo takes your face in his hand, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Can you give me your colors too?”

You force your mind to push through the fog, force your heavy lips to move and form words. “G-green for good, yellow for slow down, red for stop.”

“Good girl.” The praise goes straight to your core, and you whine. “Oh, baby, I know I just vowed to give you everything you could ever want, but you’re so damn needy. Be patient for me, okay? Let me touch you.”

You nod obediently, but you can’t fight the urge roll your hips and feel him again. With a soft, scolding noise, he presses one of his hands into your hipbone, effectively pinning you to the mattress. Try as you might, you can’t squirm away. He’s so ridiculously strong, his muscles toned from years of training and hero work, that you’re no match for him. But it’s not so bad. You love the dominance that oozes off his body as he moves down, his hands and tongue exploring every inch of skin that they can find. His teeth nip at the sensitive spot on your neck, the spot that always makes you melt for him. You shamelessly sigh and tilt your head to give him more access.

His right hand, the one that isn’t currently pinning you to the mattress, plays with the lacy edges of your bra. He palms you through the thin fabric, making you groan and arch your back into his touch. It’s not enough, you need more, need to feel more of him before you lose your mind. He seems to read your mind, because he doesn’t even bother to unclasp the bra, electing instead to rip it clean off your body. The snap of the straps breaking makes you gasp, but you revel in the sting of the elastic bouncing back against your skin.

“Couldn’t wait,” he says, not a hint of shame on his face. “You know how much I love to tease, but fuck, I need you now.”

He’s a bit more ceremonious when he removes your panties, choosing to use a hardened feather to slice through the fabric instead of just ripping with brute force. He fucking moans at the sight of you, wet and needy for him. It sounds like absolute heaven, but you don’t have even a second to revel in it before he’s diving into you. The sudden rush of pleasure is electrifying, and you go to instinctively slam your legs shut, but Keigo’s hand is too fast again. His tongue doesn’t falter for even a second as his fingers dig into your thighs and push you open. His lips wrap around your clit and suck, and he’s outrageously loud as he moans into your sex. It’s all so much – he’s licking at you like a man on death row, coaxing little whines and gasps from your lips.

His beautiful eyes are trained on yours, pupils blow out with love and lust. He memorizes every little expression that flits across your beautiful face as he eases a finger into you, eyes only leaving your face to admire the way that your little cunt sucks him in. But he can’t tear his gaze away from you, and the way your mouth falls open, or the way that your eyes flutter and roll back. The way that your hands ball up into fists, alternating between grabbing the bedsheets and lacing through his hair. Fuck, he loves how you pull at his hair when his fingers curl up against that spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Loves the little curses and gasps of his name that spill past your lips as he scissors and thrusts his digits deeper and deeper into your perfect pussy.

“Cum for me, princess,” he groans. “Please, cum for me, need you to be a good girl and cum for me.”

And, well, you did just vow to give him everything that he could ever want.

You throw your head back and almost sob as you gush all over his face and fingers. He’s insatiable, licking and fingering you all through it, desperately trying to lap up every single drop of your juices. Your body is shaking, and you whimper, the overstimulation building until it’s too much, until you’re crying out too much, Kei, ‘s too much!

“Give me your color, baby,” he says, slowing his assault against your body.

“G-green,” you stutter out, the words as shaky as your legs. “Green, don’t stop, it’s just – ah! Kei!”

Your verbal confirmation was all he needed to dive back in, sucking at you with even more vigor than before. His fingers twist and curl against your spot, and his tongue lashes at your clit. He doesn’t stop for even a second, burying himself in your heat. It’s all you can do to maintain your grip on his hair, tugging at it just the way that he loves. You’re thrust headfirst into your second orgasm of the night, crying out his name and positively sobbing at the onslaught of sensations.

When he finally pulls away, the lower part of his face is soaked with your cum. He makes a show of licking his lips clean, not breaking eye contact with you, no matter how much you blush and squirm. He saves his fingers for you, though. A gentle tap at your lips is all it takes for you to obediently open your mouth and take in his digits. You swirl your tongue around, eyes lidded with the afterglow of your pleasure.

But you’re not finished, are nowhere near finished. You suppose that you are being needy, but how could you not, when your husband looks like an absolute fucking god? The candlelight makes your cum on his face glisten beautifully. You whine and pull him in for a kiss, mashing your lips against his and greedily swiping your tongues together. It’s sinful. You can taste yourself on him, and it makes you shudder, makes you need him that much more.

“Please, please fuck me,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his slim waist and trying to pull him closer, closer, closer. “Please, Kei, need you inside me, need my husband inside me.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, so quietly that you would’ve missed it if you didn’t feel the word formed against your lips. “Fuck, baby, okay.” His hand slides between your bodies and quickly pushes his boxers down. He uses a feather to pull them all the way off, because he can’t be bothered to focus on that, not when you’re practically drooling at the sight of his cock.

Your fingers twitch, and you aren’t able to hold back any longer. Your hand finds his cock, marveling at how heavy and perfect he feels as you wrap your fingers around him and guide him towards your sopping cunt. You pause before you slide him in, though, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Can I ride you? Please?”

He curses again under his breath, practically shivering at your words. His strong hands reposition the both of you, until you’re sitting on his thigh and he’s leaning back against the headboard. He cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “Well, then? Get to work, princess.”

You roll your eyes, trying not to laugh at his antics. “What happened to Mr. Let-Me-Take-Care-Of-You?”

“He’ll come out later. If my pretty wife wants to ride me, she gets to ride me.”

You laugh for real this time, but it quickly turns into a moan as you sink yourself down on his length. No matter how many times you take him, he always overwhelms your senses, always stretches you so deliciously. You lean your forehead against his and give yourself a second to adjust, and then you’re rolling your hips, little whines leaving your lips.

“Feels so good, Kei.” You throw your head back, your fingers digging into the strong muscles of his back to anchor yourself. “You always feel so good.”

His eyes are half-lidded and dark as he takes you in. He’s memorizing every inch of your body, every detail and movement that he absolutely fucking adores. “You’re the most beautiful thing in the world,” he whispers, seemingly more to himself than you. “So beautiful. I’m so lucky.”

Your thighs burn, but you force yourself to ignore the pain. You’d rather die than stop right now. His strong arms encircle your waist, and his wings surround your bodies, ruffling with every one of your movements.

You want to ignore your exhaustion, but your husband is perceptive as ever. His hips raise up to meet you, and it sends a fresh wave of pleasure through your body. You’re shaky, though, and you’re getting sloppy.

Before you can even process what’s happening, you’re being spun over and pinned to the mattress. A gasp leaves your lips, and you whine as his cock slips out of you. Your hand reaches out and paws around wildly, searching for him through your haze. Keigo’s quick to kiss you and shush your protests, entwining his rough fingers in your searching hand and stroking his thumb against your palm.

“Relax, angel. Let me take care of it.”

He slides into you again, making you both moan. Your pussy sucks him in greedily, clenching and fluttering around him. He pauses once he bottoms out. His face buries into the crook of your neck, and he presses sweet kisses all over your skin.

You wrap your legs around his waist and squeeze, trying desperately to make him move. “Keigo, baby, please,” you whine, fingers digging into the strong muscles of his back.

He coos, cupping your face and kissing you before he readjusts himself. “Of course, pretty girl.”

His thrusts are deep and hard, so hard that they make the entire bed shake. Your eyes flutter shut, but he grips your jaw and begs you to keep them open – please, baby, look at me, need to see my pretty wife fall apart.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he moans, teeth nipping at your lips. “So perfect, and all mine.”

“All yours,” you agree. You’re practically babbling by this point, unable to stop the noises slipping past your lips. You’re floating on a cloud, soaring through the sky, anchored only by his body against yours. “You’re so deep in me, Kei, can feel you so deep in me. Please, ‘m so close, just a lil’ bit more, Kei.”

He coos again, hand slipping down to toy with your clit. You wail, sinking your teeth into his shoulder as the coil in your stomach snaps and you gush uncontrollably. You can’t do anything but cry out for him, can’t do anything but cling onto him and shake and twitch. The feeling of you clenching around him is too much, and with a broken fuck and a cry of your name, he spills inside of you. He fucks you through it, the obscene sounds of your combined release making you feel lightheaded and weak.

He holds you for a few minutes, just like that, bodies entwined. You both pant and try to catch your breath. The weight of his body on top of yours is comforting, so you protest when he finally pulls out and sits back to admire the way that his seed drips out of you.

“Come back,” you complain. “What kind of husband doesn’t give cuddles to his wife?”

“The kind of husband who needs to clean her up,” he says with a chuckle. “C’mon, let’s go take a bath.

Your body feels boneless with exhaustion and the hazy afterglow of your three orgasms, so you’re grateful when he scoops you into his arms. You tuck your face into his neck and hum contentedly, unable to stop the giddy smile that blooms across your face.

“I love you, Kei,” you say, planting little kisses over his neck and jaw.

“I love you too, princess,” he says, grinning and poking your nose. He laughs when you scrunch it up and scowl at him. But, with how cute he looks, you just can’t hold the scowl for long. Soon, you’re giggling too.

You look up at him with so much love that it makes his heart ache. His eyes grow a bit more serious, and he dips his head to kiss at your swollen lips. “I mean it, baby. I’m so happy to spend the rest of my life with you.”

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wonderlustlucas · 4 years

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jack pot ; part 3 - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt You know it’s bad when you’re high as a kite and he’s still on your mind. ⇢ pairing hwang hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 6.4k ⇢ genre fluff & angst (not heavy, just in a slow burn kind of way) ⇢ warnings (18+) drug use, a suggestive make out & the mention of a boner twice maybe ⇢ summary College is a matter of working hard and playing hard. It’s an opportunity to start fresh, to grow as an individual and to blossom with those you befriend. People come and people go, leaving their mark on your life and showing you all the parts of becoming an adult. Some, however, do more than leave their mark. Some take just as much as they give. Things become complicated once they take the entirety of your love because you outright offered it to them.—college!au ; stoner!au ; friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n AAAAAAAA omg im so excited to post this, this by far is my fav part of jack pot & i cant wait to hear what u all think!!! sorry its a bit shorter than the other parts, & technically this is the *last* part, but there will be an epilogue where you will see how everything comes to be!!!! have fun reading!!! <3

⇠ part 2

five.

“Oh, fuck, he’s good,” Yeji gasps, shoving her phone into Maddie’s hands before faceplanting into the table.

“Are you H-T-T-P because I’m colon-slash-slash without you,” Maddie reads with a chuckle, thumbs hesitating over the keyboard. “Quick, YN, look up some pick-up lines.”

Closing the tab on the article you should be reading but has been long forgotten, you promptly do as you are told and open the first link from your search, Minho and Jisung leaning in to help. “There,” Jisung stops you, pointing to one, “’Are you a parking ticket? Because you have fine written all over you.’”

The table can’t help but burst into laughter at such a sentence. It’s stupid, but ever since Yeji and Kim Sunwoo began texting, their conversations have been full of tacky puns and emoji-filled compliments.

“Damn,” Maddie whistles, setting the phone back into Yeji’s limp hand, “he’s already typing back.”

“Gross,” Ryujin teases, busy typing away on her laptop. How she manages to multitask so well is a skill you certainly lack. “Why don’t you just like, I don’t know, ask him out?” Jisung asks and when you glance up, he’s looking at you. “Because that’s the guy’s job,” Maddie quickly saves the day, winking to you when you send her a grateful smile.

“Bullshit,” Jeongin scoffs. Everyone, even Ryujin, stops to look at him.

Did he just curse?

“I mean, like,” he stammers, cheeks turning rosy at all the attention, “it’s 2020. Guys have insecurities, too.”

“I agree,” Minho hums, looking to Maddie with hearts in his eyes, “that kind of confidence is enough to make any boy fall in love.”

“Yeah, but—”

Lia rebuts, but your attention quickly falls elsewhere when a text message first appears on your laptop, then your phone.

hwang hyunjin🦔🕺🏻💞🧻 [now] Where r u rn?

Unable to fight your smile, you quickly type back.

[3:39 PM] YN: outside hollin st café [3:39 PM] YN: why? :)

“Have you seen their new house, YN?” Minho asks, prompting you to click your phone off and set it back on the table. “Whose house?”

“Changbin’s parents.”

“Oh,” shaking your head, you distantly curse Chan for keeping your friend busy today. Unlike Jisung, Changbin likes to write lyrics and do whatever other music stuff during the day at a normal time instead of the middle of the fucking night while stoned and trying to finish his computer science assignments at the same time. “No, he forgot to send me pictures.”

“Dude,” Jisung sighs dreamily, “it’s huge. So nice. I think the front door alone could cover tuition.”

“Is it really that nice?” Maddie asks in awe.

“He started to show me pics the other day but couldn’t finish but the kitchen… unnecessary,” Ryujin quips, pausing her work to check her phone. “Yeah, it’s insane. The whole place is unnecessary but the kitchen is like, a house in itself,” Jeongin hums, head shaking in disbelief.

“Damn, now I really want to see it,” you sigh, making a mental note to hunt Changbin down so he can show you. “It’s like Hyunjin and his rings,” Minho snickers, “he has so many. Whenever we’re out, if he sees a ring, boom. It’s his.”

Well, he’s not wrong but… You bite your tongue no matter how badly you wish to defend Hyunjin and his affinity for rings and jewelry in general. The boy has taste, what can you say? You certainly are not complaining about Hyunjin’s long fingers and the way he chooses to decorate them.

“I never thought I’d hear Changbin’s parent’s kitchen be analogous to Hyunjin’s jewelry collection, yet here we are,” Maddie chuckles, leaning over Yeji to peek at her conversation with Sunwoo.

“Wow, speak of the devil,” Jisung pipes up of course as soon as you have reopened the tab to your assignment. Changbin or Hyunjin, you don’t know, head whipping up to find out and a peculiar mix of relief and panic settling over you once you spot the latter. “Uh oh, YN’s gonna go into cardiac arrest.”

As subtly as you can, you elbow Jisung in the stomach and smile at Hyunjin as he nears. “Hey,” keeping his eyes on you, Hyunjin approaches your table and stops behind Maddie opposite from you, “I’m sorry, I should have asked if you were busy.” His cheeks, already flushed, burn pinker once he looks away to smile weakly at everyone else.

“I’m not busy!” You squeak, scrambling to close your laptop and shove it in your bag. “Are you sure? I can come back later?” He offers, tilting his head and this is when you realize he is holding a bubble tea in each hand. And from the looks of it, one seems to be your usual order. “No, she’s not,” Jeongin answers for you, recognizing your stupefied expression.

“I was just – yeah. No,” rushing to stand and swing your legs out around the bench, you nearly fall flat on your face, “I wasn’t doing anything, actually.” Steadying yourself with a hand on Minho’s shoulder, you heave a labored breath before carefully walking to meet Hyunjin.

“Okay,” he beams, either oblivious to how flustered you are or simply choosing to ignore it. Turning to wave to your friends, he hands you one of the cups and you realize it is, in fact, your favorite boba. Oh boy. “See ya later,” you wave to them as well, nose wrinkling when both Jisung and Maddie wink in return.

Following after Hyunjin, you finally allow yourself to take notice of his attire and can’t help but feel confused. He looks good. And not in the good attractive way—he always looks good. But good as in formal. It’s four o’clock on a Tuesday in October and he’s out here looking as if he just got out of a business meeting. White button-down tucked into fitted black slacks, dress shoes, black tie, and he even has a black suit jacket draped over his arm. His hair is styled, too; ever since he dyed it back to black, he’s been growing it out long enough for his bangs to cover his eyes. Now, however, it’s parted down the middle and seems as if he’s ever so slightly curled it away from his face.

Suddenly, you feel ridiculous walking beside him in mom jeans and a baggy sweatshirt from high school.

“Thanks for the boba,” you mumble around your straw, brain still preoccupied trying to get over how utterly handsome he is. “Why do you look so fancy?”

The side of his mouth twitches up at your words, but his eyes stay glued to the sidewalk as you continue to your unknown destination. “I had an audition,” Hyunjin admits, voice devoid of emotion as if it’s not important at all. “An audition?” You echo. “Why do you sound so not super mega excited? How did it go? What was it for?”

“Well—”

“Wait!” You interrupt, stopping your walk once you realize he had an audition and you didn’t know. “You had an audition? What – why didn’t you tell me?”

Hyunjin frowns, avoiding your gaze and dragging his bottom teeth over his top lip. “I didn’t tell anyone,” he finally says before reaching for your hand and tugging you away from the walkway and into your campus’ main courtyard. “Why? Is it some sort of secret or something, Hyunjin?” You scoff, sounding way more annoyed than you intended. But you are annoyed; why didn’t he want to tell anyone?

“No,” he sighs, finding an empty area in the grass and lowering himself to sit, “I just… didn’t want anyone to know. Didn’t want to make it a big deal.”

“Hyunjin,” you sigh, visibly softening for him and settling down next to him, crisscrossing your legs, “it is a big deal. I don’t know what it’s for, but if it’s important enough for you to audition, then it’s important to us, too. You don’t need to be humble twenty-four-seven, you know. I’m sure you could have used our support.”

“I didn’t get it, though,” Hyunjin whispers, “they just – I didn’t get in. I wasn’t good enough.” Sensing the sadness in his voice, you find a lump forming in your throat when you notice the way his bottom lip trembles. “Hey,” panicking, you set your boba down and sit up on your knees to wrap your arms around him, cradling his head into your chest once tears start falling, “no. Don’t ever say you’re not good enough, Hyunjin.”

“But if I did better, practiced more, than I would—"

“Stop,” you hush, combing your fingers through his hair and brushing strands away from his eyes, “I’ve never met someone who works as hard as you do. You can’t beat yourself up over this. Everything happens for a reason. You don’t know what could have happened if you got in. You could have hurt yourself eventually, or maybe met someone who’s a real asshole.”

“Yeah,” is all he says, quiet and muffled when he turns to press his forehead into your sternum, body still trembling as he lets out all his tears. You stay like that for a while, holding him against you and soothing a hand up and down his back until his sniffling falls quiet. “Listen,” you finally sigh, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him back. Your heart sinks once you take in the wet trails down his cheeks and the puffiness of his eyes. “Forget about it. Was it something for dance?”

When he nods subtly, you cup his face in your hands and swipe his cheeks with your thumbs. “You are an amazing dancer, Hyunjin. You can’t let this get to your head. And I don’t want you working your ass off more than you do already. Practice makes perfect, sure, but you need to rest. What about the idea Changbin came up with?”

“The YouTube thing?”

“Yes! Filming dance tutorials or just posting your routines is a really good idea,” you remind him, wiping your hands on your jeans once he falls back onto the grass with a gentle thud, hair flaying around him like a halo. Your limbs twitch with the urge to lie beside him, maybe throw an arm around him and rest your cheek on his chest, fingers tracing the soft features of his face, stroking through his hair and reminding him just how innately perfect he is, inside and out. You, of course, resist such a temptation, flopping down beside him and staring up at the clouds with a heavy heart.

“I could do that. Maybe,” Hyunjin huffs. Tilting your head to look at him, you find yourself knee-deep in that familiar longing feeling, pausing simply to appreciate how pretty he is in the evening sun, cheeks rosy from crying and hair begging to be touched. Shaking your head to rid such daydreams, you remind yourself how fragile his emotions are right now. Now is no time to get caught up on a fantasy. Reaching for your tea, you lean up on an elbow and redirect your gaze to the trees, the promise of winter having turned what was green burnt sienna and butterscotch, leaving trees barren and branches swaying gently in the crisp breeze that leaves you curling into yourself. “You should,” you hum, distant, mind clawing to come up with the words you want to say.

“Come here,” Hyunjin says now, voice stronger than before and when his hand wraps gently around your wrist, you can’t find it in yourself to resist. Allowing him to pull you back down beside him, you curl into his side, resting your head a safe distance away from his own and onto the curve of his arm. “Thank you for being so good to me,” he expresses. You squeeze your eyes shut when the arm you lie on wraps around your shoulders and pulls you substantially closer. “I need to tell you something.”

A long stretch of silence falls upon you and for a moment, you are unsure the words even left your mouth. What are you thinking?

“Wait! I have something first,” Hyunjin sighs, missing the way your breath hitches. “Okay,” you whisper, fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt and focusing all your attention there.

“I just – I think… I owe you an apology,” he finally says, “I need to apologize for something that I did a while ago that I know probably hurt.” Your chest tightens. There’s a lot that has hurt you when it comes to Hyunjin, but none that he’s done purposely. None that are his fault. None that he should be apologizing for.

“I feel like we came to some mutual understanding to not mention what happened when we were freshmen, but it kills me to know that – that something happened, and we never talked about it,” Hyunjin starts, grip tightening on your shoulder and suddenly, you think you are dreaming. This cannot possibly be real. “I know it was awkward but, I also know me and Yiren dating was… ah. I don’t know.”

When he falls silent, you are unsure of what to say or do. You have no idea what the end goal of this conversation is. Hardly a minute ago, your heart and your brain decided it was time to tell him. Now, you’re not so sure you can do that until he finishes, and you are not about to give him your two cents if his reasoning for bringing it up is not the same as yours.

“I just want to apologize for not being brave enough to talk to you about it. I know I was confused, but I’m sure it was worse for you when they told you about her,” Hyunjin continues, sensing your rendered silence, “and it’s been so long since that happened, and now, you’re one of my closest friends.” Ouch.

“But I’ve been thinking,” when he picks up again, your eyes fly open in a panic. He’s been thinking. Hyunjinhas been thinking. You think you are going to pass out. “And I just feel like we… me and you, I mean—"

The standard iPhone alarm blares from beside you, promptly cutting him off and you think it is the biggest cockblock known to man. “Shit,” he hisses, leaning up to tug his phone from his pocket and in the process nudging you from your comfortable position. Sitting back up, nerves aflame and heart racing, your brows shoot up in confusion when all he does is stare at the number calling him. “What are you doing?”

“It’s the studio I was just at,” he scoffs in disbelief, barely glancing at you before looking back to his phone. You have never wanted to shrivel up and die as much as you want to right now. “Well? Aren’t you going to answer?”

Hyunjin makes a noise of acknowledgement before tapping the green icon and bringing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Sitting quietly beside him, you watch with a forced smile as his hummed responses and subtle nods morph into enthusiastic laughs and wide, beaming smiles. Hyunjin notices your confusion when you tilt your head, mouthing a ‘What?’ to him.

“They made a mistake,” he whispers, covering the speaker of his phone, “read off the wrong Hwang. I’m in.” When he grins excitedly at you, your response isn’t as cheerful as it could be. As it should be. “Yay!” You whisper, clapping gently but quickly turning to your boba when the other line begins speaking again. Looking away, you take a hefty sip, nearly choke on a tapioca ball, and build the walls around your heart up all over again in a matter of seconds.

“I’ve gotta go,” whispering, you manage one more pained smile before getting to your feet and wiping your butt of any possible grass stains, “good luck!” When he shines you one more breathtaking smile and waves excitedly, you hastily head in the other direction, wrapping your arms around yourself and swallowing past the lump that threatens to form the farther you walk.

It must be nice, you think, frantically wiping at your waterline. Must be nice to put yourself out there and have things work out the way you want them to. Must be nice being told you’re ‘in,’ you’re wanted, you’re desired.

It must be nice.

six.

Pick up food, you said. Ask Jisung, you said.

Your conscience is a big fat oompa loompa ass bitch. You would have never called Jisung to ask him if he wanted anything from Taco Bell if you knew he was with Changbin. And not just Changbin, you realized four minutes into your call; Seungmin and Hyunjin, too. Apparently he went over their place to record, or something, and didn’t care to let you know. Not that you’re his mom and he has too—but it would have been nice, and would have saved you from spending almost fifty dollars at Taco Bell.

“I tried calling Jisung but he didn’t answer,” you snap once Seungmin answers your call with a muffled hello. “Can one of you please come out and help me carry this in?” You glance at the five large sodas and two bags full of food in your passenger seat with a grimace. “Sure,” he agrees and you make a mental note for the umpteenth time just how much you love Seungmin, “I’ll be out in a sec.”

True to his word, you spot him making his way out of their apartment and across the small courtyard to meet you by your car not even a minute later, hauling each bag under his arms. “Thank you,” left only with the cupholder, you hurriedly lock your car and follow after him. “No problem. Thanks for being our Uber Eats,” then, pursing his lips, “how much was this?”

“Forty-seven something,” you grumble unhappily, knowing this was a big hit to your debit. “We’ll pay you back, don’t worry,” Seungmin smiles, leading you up the final flight of stairs and kicking open the ajar door.

Immediately, you’re hit with the smell.

“Dear, fucking hell,” making a face, you rub your nose to keep from sneezing, “it reeks in here. How have you guys not been kicked out yet?”

The stench of weed generally does not bother you anymore, but still—they could light a candle, or something. Seungmin shrugs, setting the bags down on the kitchen counter. “Luck, I guess.”

“IS THAT YN?” From another room, you hear Changbin shout, followed by an excited shriek from Jisung. “They’re high. Very high. You’ve been warned,” Seungmin whispers just as tweedle dee and tweedle dum themselves come flying around the corner. “YN!” Jisung grins, engulfing you in a dramatic hug. “Watch,” you hiss, regarding the blunt held between his fingers that comes dangerously close to your hair.

“Sorry,” he smiles, then, without warning, sticks the thing right between your lips. “I didn’t even offer.” Well, when life gives you lemons…

You hesitantly take the hit and blow the smoke away from him. You weren’t planning on getting high today, but here you are. “Thanks,” shaking your head as if that will clear it, you turn to Changbin and snugly wrap your arms around him. Every day you thank the heavens that he is a chill, calm high, unlike your maniac of a roommate.

“Thanks for the food,” fishing into his pockets and pulling out a crumpled ten-dollar bill, he slaps it into your palm. You only hum in reply, shoving it into your own pocket and praying you don’t lose it before you remember to put it in your wallet. “Where’s Hyunjin?” You ask, no longer caring about being slick.

“In his room,” Seungmin answers, rummaging through the bags to find what he ordered. Then, “HYUNJIN!” You jump, reaching for your soda and standing away from the other three until they have claimed whatever belongs to them. No sooner than Seungmin calls for him, you hear a door being cracked open and out comes Hyunjin.

He looks extremely disheveled. Like, just woke up from a two-month hibernation, disheveled. In the blink of an eye, however, he rakes a hand through long blonde hair and promptly sets a baseball cap backwards to keep the strands away and suddenly, he doesn’t look so disheveled anymore. You force yourself to look away, cursing the way your gut twists.

“Gimme my crunchwrap,” you say around your straw, snatching the blunt from Jisung’s fingers and moving around him to fetch your dinner. He doesn’t even protest.

He knows you need it more than he does.

“That’s a lot of food,” Hyunjin says once he has finally entered the kitchen, voice groggy and eyes puffy from sleep. Or from being high, you can’t tell. Pressing his chest to your back, he wraps one arm around you to keep you against him while the other reaches into a bag to take what’s his. Swallowing past the desert dryness of your throat, you manage a thick inhale from the blunt before tilting your head to look at him and mentally thanking the other three for taking it as their cue to head out.

“Not my fault you guys eat like animals,” you chuckle shakily, trying to ignore the firmness of his body against yours, veins prominent on the arm that holds you against him and the ripple of muscle along his abdomen noticeable even through his shirt and yours. Dear god, it is too early for this. Not even seven o’clock and you are already drooling in more places than one.

Hyunjin pouts as if it is not true. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, finally moving away to grab his drink and you can’t help your disappointment, quickly finishing the blunt before tapping it out into one of the many ashtrays. “Don’t worry about it,” you wave off, digging through their drawers for a paper plate.

“YN,” Hyunjin deadpans, regarding you with a raised brow once you come up and begin unwrapping your food. You refuse to look him in the eye. “What do I owe you?” He repeats, firmer this time and it sends a chill down your spine when it most certainly should not. Sighing, you retrieve the receipt from your pocket and count everything he got. “Thirteen.”

Humming in content, Hyunjin reaches for his wallet on the counter and pulls a ten and five out. “There,” he beams, tucking the bills into your pocket himself. Rolling your eyes, you pray he does not notice how you flush and hurry out of the kitchen to join Seungmin on the sofa.

“House Hunters?” You ask with a laugh, looking at the TV once you have settled next to him. “I told you HGTV is the best.”

Seungmin hums in agreement. “I thought it was stupid at first, but Hyunjin was watching Fixer Upper and I got addicted,” he says, nodding to the older boy doing a little dance in the kitchen as he eats one of his tacos. Your heart does somersaults at the sight. “They’re all so good,” you agree after taking a few bites of your own food, eyes trained on the television, “House Hunters is a classic, though.”

“I like the international one,” Hyunjin adds on his way over, crashing unceremoniously next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Seungmin wrinkle his nose when Hyunjin sets his free hand casually on your thigh. “Shh,” he grumbles, vaguely gesturing to the screen and chewing a mouthful of food, “I wanna hear what the house has.”

One episode turns to two, which turns to three, which turns to four, and suddenly you have been watching House Hunters with Seungmin and Hyunjin for almost three hours. It definitely is the weed, always making time perpetually slower, and it did not help when Jisung and Changbin reappeared sometime during your binge with one of Felix’s bongs. Not necessarily how you intended to spend your precious Friday night, but there is no sense in complaining when you are with your buddies and Hyunjin, of course.

Taco Bell long gone, you watch with blurry eyes when Hyunjin gets up from his slumped position against you to head into the kitchen and open the freezer. This, as well as the realization that House Hunters has ended and gone to some other, not-as-cool show, brings both you and Seungmin somewhat back to reality.

“It’s almost ten,” Seungmin announces, staring dazedly at the time on his phone. You hum in acknowledgment, certainly sober enough to reply but simply too lazy to. “I think I’m going to bed. Or play something. Don’t wreck the place,” he sighs, dragging a hand down his face before standing up. “G’night, Minnie,” you smile, watching with a furrowed brow as he continues down the hall and into his room. It isn’t until you hear his door click shut does the weight of being alone with Hyunjin settle on your chest.

It’s not like you haven’t spent time alone with Hyunjin before. In fact, that usually is the way it’s been in the past three years; whether the two of you decided to do your own thing or the rest of your friends eventually left or went to bed, you are used to this feeling. Used to ignoring the butterflies in your gut when he does something particularly cute and used to tampering down the mental images you conjure up knowing it’s just you and him.

But that doesn’t make things any easier. No matter how hard you try, you simply can’t help but feel this way around Hyunjin, especially when you’re alone. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles.

“Whatcha wanna watch?” Hyunjin asks around one last spoonful of ice cream before setting the pint back into the freezer. “Uhh…” You drone, blinking heavily at the TV and back to him as he makes his way back over. “I dunno, I’m sure you’ve been watching some drama. You can put that on.”

“You sure?” He asks with a raised brow, collapsing next to you and slumping dramatically halfway down the cushions. “Yes,” laughing, you find yourself reaching out to tuck messy strands of hair back behind his ear without hesitation, “also, why are you wearing a hat inside?”

Hyunjin pauses, straining to look up as if he will be able to see the back of his cap against his forehead. “I’m wearing a hat?”

“Yes, you idiot,” in comes the endless weed giggles and you find yourself unable to stop laughing, watching with teary eyes as he sits up and takes his hat off. “I don’t remember putting this on,” he chuckles airily, flipping the cap back and forth in his hands before tossing it onto the coffee table. “Should I cut it?”

“No!” You shout a little too quickly and a little too loudly. Shrinking against the arm of the couch, you ignore his amused smile and look to his long hair, freshly bleached strands falling down to his neck and shorter pieces brushing against his cheeks. Fuck, it should be illegal to look this good. “I like it long. It really suits you.”

“It’s annoying,” Hyunjin grins despite his complaint, lifting his legs onto the couch and flopping onto his side, head now resting on your lap. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

Now that he’s offered playing with his hair on a silver platter, you don’t hesitate combing your fingers through it, tugging out pieces stuck under his head and brushing it out completely. “You could pull the sides back,” you hum distantly, separating a section of hair near his temple to pull back, “or make a bun with what you can. You just have to play around with it.”

Humming in agreement, Hyunjin resituates himself after reaching for the remote and switching to Netflix. When you go back to simply raking your fingers from root to tip in irregular directions, you don’t miss the way his eyelids flutter at the motion and make sure to pay extra attention to his scalp. When this turned into a head massage, you’re not entirely sure.

The drama Hyunjin puts on is unbearable. You stopped paying attention a while ago, focusing more on him and how he seems to enjoy it, fingers busy braiding random sections of hair, taking them out, and then braiding them again. With two finally done the way you want them to, you are midway through the third when your fingers begin to cramp up.

“Why’d you stop?” Hyunjin asks seconds after you drop the braid and stretch your fingers out. “Fingers are cramping,” chuckling at the disappointed pout of his lips, you crack what knuckles you can before going back and undoing the unfinished braid. “Oh,” he mutters, cheek still pressed against your leg, “feels good.”

Humming in response, you ignore the way his words make your heart swell and begin gathering all his hair into a ponytail, pressing the braids to lay flat and finally tying it with a hair tie once you have combed up all that you can. Immediately, his bangs and hairs closer to the nape of his neck fall out, leaving the ponytail spikey and messy. At least the braids look good. You can’t help but giggle.

“What?” Hyunjin asks, pausing his show and leaning up. “What’d you do?”

“Go see for yourself,” pointing to the bathroom, you comb out a looped piece of hair before he stands to do just that. His ponytail bobs the entire walk there.

When he reaches the door and flips the light on, you watch from your position as he checks himself out, brushing away his bangs and flicking the pony. You frown when he accidentally yanks at a braid.

“Come here,” you say, sitting up, “you messed up the braid.”

“Honestly,” Hyunjin considers his reflection one last time before skipping his way over, “it doesn’t look half bad.” Expecting him to sit back next to you, your pulse quickens when he anchors a hand to the armrest and leans in front you, only inches away from your face. “No, definitely,” you say once you have gotten over the shock of him being so close so suddenly, “I like it in the ponytail. You’d really impress the girls if you braided your hair yourself.” Reaching up to tuck hair back into the braid and press it down flat once more, you don’t miss the way his brows draw together and lips twitch down. “What?”

Time ceases to exist as Hyunjin begins to come closer. In reality, you know it simply is a matter of seconds, but all of space and time seems to still once he leans forward. It feels as if an eternity goes by, allowing you to count each individual eyelash, memorize the details of his skin, take note of the smoothed lines on his plump lips. The way time slows is cruel; it allows panic to set in, the realization that he most certainly is looming over you with his eyes on your lips sending a spark of excitement and anxiety through your veins.

And then, just as this realization and this panic has set your nerves aflame, a gentle hand comes to cradle your jaw before Hyunjin’s lips press against yours.

It is so easy to surrender to the taste and touch of him. Instantly, an eruption of emotions and thoughts spiraling out of control fills you, yet your brain focuses only on Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin. This is not the first time you have kissed him, nor the first time simply having him so close, but the feeling that radiates from your heart outward is unlike anything you have felt before. This is uncalled for. This is not like two years ago. You were not expecting this.

Hyunjin sighs into the kiss when you lean up to loop your arms around his neck. No sooner have you done this, he breaks away to sit beside you once more, hands reaching for your waist and guiding you to sit over his lap.

You could kiss him all day, you think, palms lying flat by his collarbones before fisting the material of his shirt when his tongue prods at the seam of your lips. Blood seemingly coming to a boil and nerves sparking dangerously, you find yourself quickly sobering up as the minutes tick by, completely and utterly addicted to him and this feeling, this feeling you have craved but never crossed the line for. And now, it’s yours to keep.

Forgetting the braids, you seize the opportunity to rake your fingers through his hair. Different, than how you did earlier. Desperate. Combing it away from his face once, twice, swallowing his groans when you tug at the roots, you realize with a whine that his hands have left your face in favor of dragging down your sides, circling back to squeeze at your breasts, rubbing at your thighs and finally sliding back to your ass, situating you more comfortably on his thighs.

When Hyunjin finally breaks the kiss to journey elsewhere, littering chaste kisses across your jaw, below your ear, down your neck, the weight of your actions finally hits you. It is overwhelming, the way you come spiraling back to reality, and you are not sure if the quiet moan that leaves you is due to the press of something else against your thigh or simply the realization that you are making out with Hyunjin.

You have to stop before you get hurt again.

“Hyunjin,” you gasp, shuddering when his soft lips brush against your jaw, “wait. We need to talk.”

He pauses at this, fingers digging into your sides and you feel his frown against your neck. “What’s there to talk about?” He murmurs, arms sliding around you and tugging you closer, prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him close and pretend like his boner isn’t digging into you.

It’s your turn to frown. “About us,” whispering, you lift one hand to stroke through his hair, “we need to talk about us.”

“I thought my feelings were very clear,” Hyunjin scoffs, all tenderness in his voice gone. Instinctively, you lean back, blinking at him in surprise. “Unless this is just another one of your games? Does this not mean anything to you, YN? I don’t think I could stomach you running off to Changbin or fucking Chan again.”

His words pierce your heart before you have even fully processed them, hurt flashing across your features and your body goes numb. “What?” Is all you can manage, scrambling to get away from him, chest heaving and eyes suddenly burning with the brine of tears. “What are you talking about, Hyunjin?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” He shouts. You flinch, not from the way he raises his voice, but from the genuine sadness in his eyes. “The past three years have been a constant battle with you. We’re best friends, for fucks sake, I figured out a long time ago that you have feelings for me. Feelings more than best friends. Yet every fucking time we started moving in the right direction, you turned your back on me.”

You can do nothing but stand there and let the tears fall. All the words and bottled emotions you wish to say are right there on the tip of your tongue, but you simply cannot bring yourself to voice them. Not when he’s right. Not when you have turned your back on him time and time again.

And then, he hisses more to himself than you, “Is this just sloppy seconds? You never once thought about my feelings in all of this?”

The anger brewing within you suddenly bursts from the dam and hisses through your body like deadly poison. “Sloppy seconds?” You snarl, fists clenching. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Your feelings? You just said you know how I feel about you, so why didn’t you ever do anything about it? How was I supposed to know you felt the same?”

“I thought it was pretty fucking obvious,” Hyunjin spits back, gaze narrowing, “didn’t think I had to spell out the fact that I like you, YN. You’re a smart girl.”

“Do not treat me like a child,” clenching your jaw, you have to look away for a moment, pacing one, two, three steps, hands raking through your hair and wiping away the stream of tears from your cheeks. You have never been filled with such rage. Having finally reached its boiling point, it now consumes you whole, sweeping off in waves and destroying all boundaries. “Confessing is not an easy thing, as you apparentlyknow, so don’t make me seem like the only idiot here. But maybe I was wrong about you if you think of me as just sloppy seconds.”

“I never said that!” Hyunjin barks, standing up to grasp your wrist when you turn away to grab your keys. “Don’t put words in my mouth! I would never, never think of you that way. I just don’t understand why you never spoke up after all this time. I’ve been dying, YN, you have no clue how badly I have been—”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” you snap, yanking your arm away from him, “I told you, Hyunjin. Telling someone you love them isn’t as easy as learning to ride a bike. You’re right, I have turned my back on you. But not intentionally. I’ve been scared, I’m a pussy, whatever.” Biting your top lip as if it will stop the tears that continue to fall freely, you avoid looking at him and glance back to find not only Seungmin, but Jisung and Changbin, too, peeking out from their doors with eyes blown wide with shock. Once you have noticed them, however, they panic and scramble to get out of sight.

Sighing shakily, you look back to Hyunjin and cannot ignore the way your heart sinks at the sight of him. Even upset, he is beautiful. You wonder how much you will see him after this.

“You don’t have to tell me you like me back to make me feel better, Hyunjin,” bouncing on your heels, you suddenly feel exhausted, body and soul heavy with the words you not only spoke, but heard, too. “We can figure this out another day, but for now, I need to go home. I’ll see you.”

Turning away once more, you do not make it very close to the front door before he stops you once more. “Wait, YN,” Hyunjin huffs, smiling softly when he reaches for your hand and you do not pull away. Running his tongue over his lip, he seems to hesitate for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Did you mean it when you said you love me?”

⇢ epilogue

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

Prof of Law Aaron Hotchner

Warning for violence, stabbing, nightmares, an anxiety attack, and drugs (the prescribed kind)

Aaron Hotchner is a retired Federal Persecutor-- just an AU where Hotch is a law professor for fun and angst!!

Bouncing Jack on his hip, Hotch smiles as he stands over Haley’s shoulder. He pulls his hand back from the cake, wincing when Haley smacks his hand away. She’s a perfectionist and having the smear of his finger through this cake is going to heavily disrupt her otherwise perfect spreading.

“Oh come on,” he pouts, he turns his body so she can see Jack. “We just want a little,” he attempts. Rousing his son, he jogs the boy up a little more in his arms. “Tell her Jack, tell Mommy, say only a little.” Despite being very much daddy’s little boy, Jack smirks and turns his head away. Giggling and babbling nonsense into his father’s shoulder. Wiping his face on Hotch’s shirt.

Hotch plays along. “See,” he offers, “just like he said. We only want just a little bit.”

Haley rolls her eyes, smiling at his antics. She reaches around the cake to the mostly empty tub the icing had come in. “Go,” she instructs, handing it to him. “Get out of my kitchen Aaron Hotchner before I beat you with this spoon.” She searches across the counter for the wooden spoon she’d used to keep the green beans on the oven stirred.

He smiles and kisses her head, avoiding the spoon when she tries to jab at his side with it.

As he’s walking away, egging Jack on in his triumph of obtaining the icing, there’s a knock at the door. He’s still talking to the baby, so stepping away from the cake she moves so she can see down the hall from the kitchen. To see if he’s getting the door. “Aaron--”

He steps into the hall and winks at her, “I’ve got the door.” He curses softly, pulling his hand away from Jack’s mouth. He’s swiped a finger into the container before coming to the door. Jack mercilessly chumps down on his fingers and regardless of his absent teeth it still hurts.

“Hey--”

Hotch lands flat on his back. The world a dark haze and a strange eerily painful chill in his side. Pain like he’s never felt before. Touching his side, he lifts his head off of the floor and stairs in shock at his hand. The dark, thick crimson of his blood. So much blood.

“Aaron!? Oh my God!”

Choking, Hotch tries to move. Mouth open and back arching, he kicks out blindly. The pain creating a black haze around his vision. Coughing and turning his head as he wheezes around the obstruction in his airway, his own blood, he can hear more gunshots. Jack screams, wailing, and sobbing on in distress. There is one final gunshot and the crying stops. The house falls silent.

“Jack,” he tries to move but his arms won’t hold his weight. “Jack,” he calls again, panic rising. “Come on, buddy,” he cries. “Where--” blinking the blood from his eyes he looks up and into the face of someone he hasn’t seen in a decade. George Foyet.

Leaning down, Foyet places his foot against Hotch’s throat. He presses down just enough to cut off the rest of his oxygen, smiling when Hotch uselessly tries to push him away. “Remember me, Aaron? Aaron? Aaron! Aaron--”

“Aaron! Easy, easy.”

He’s in bed. His grey t-shirt slick with his sweat and practically glued to his back. He’s safe. Looking around he can slowly start to piece together where he is. Dave’s house. Well, his house too but it’s Dave’s house.

“Woah,” perched on the corner of his bed is David Rossi. As silly as the older man looks in his matching pajama set (from probably the eighties) Hotch can’t spare the breath to do much more than lean into his embrace. “You’re alright,” Dave assures him, rubbing his back and cupping the back of his head. “Just breath for me kid,” Dave keeps Hotch pulled close, glad that he’s not trying to wrangle away just yet.

“Dave?” Hotch can feel himself shaking, his eyes pinched shut. He’s terrified, honestly. The nightmare had felt so real. So much like the real day. George Foyet had come into his home and-- “I need… Jack?” Hotch pulls away just enough to catch his old mentor’s eyes. Waiting to find the truth there. Because he can’t remember. His brain is split. Had he buried his son that day too? Is Jack… Is Jack dead too?

Dave smiles, it’s sad but it’s not mournful. “He’s sleeping in his bed,” Dave promises. “I checked on him before I came in here.”

Hotch can feel the hitch in his chest as he lets out a relieved breath. “He’s okay?” Hotch asks, he needs the clarification.

Dave nods, “perfectly content.” That’s the easy part about being a baby when the world goes to shit. Jack will never know his mother but he’ll also never have to wake, like his father, in cold sweats shaking from nightmares. Terrified and alone.

“Okay,” Hotch pulls back, scooting back in the bed so he can cross his legs and rest his head in his hands.

Watching him with an air of concern Dave sighs. He looks at the clock and shakes his head. It’s four in the morning and there’s no way that Aaron’s going back to sleep now. “You good,” he asks. As much as he’d like to stick around and make sure Hotch gets back to sleep… that’s futile.

For the last few years, they’ve been working on getting Aaron through the night. Whether it’s nightmares or insomnia he can’t seem to get a break.

Hotch nods with his face covered by his hands.

Dave stands and looks back over his shoulder one more time. “Aaron?”

“Hmm?”

“Try and get some more sleep, alright? You can’t afford to lose anymore.”

Hotch doesn’t look up but hums in agreeance. Already he can feel the low throb at the back of his skull. If he starts drinking coffee now maybe he’ll make it through his first few classes without passing out. In the vending machines outside his office, they sell these little bottles of five-hour energy.

He’s a little too old to go chugging those but he’s not going to go canceling his class over a little missed sleep.

It’s been a long time since he even thought about consuming this much coffee.

By six a.m. he’s consumed four cups.

“How long have you been up?”

Hotch blinks sluggishly despite the warm fifth mug of coffee in his hands. “Hmm,” he asks, rubbing at his eyes.

Directing Jack down the hall, hand over the boy’s head like a claw, Dave looks Hotch down. His posture is awful, bent over himself, with dark rings under his eyes. “I asked how many cups of coffee you’ve had but I’m afraid I don’t want the answer.” Pushing Jack along, the boy scurries into the kitchen. Buzzing past his father to make a B line for the milk and cereal.

“Don’t spill the milk,” Hotch mumbles, watching Jack fumble with the carton.

It’s been nearly three years since George Foyet’s attack.

The man was released from prison for “good behavior” as young, white men tend to get off. It seemed as if the two young women he’d killed were brought to justice in the ten years he spent in prison. How easy it must have been for the justice system to see the opportunity in a man like him, while ignoring the ones he’d taken. A misguided youth and a tragic backstory only adding to their empathy.

The atrocities he’d committed were not of his own accord, of course not. It’s always so much easier to blame those young women or perhaps his mother. If those girls had not been out so late at night, if they hadn’t worn skirts and frilly tops then he would have never noticed them to begin with. If his birth mother had loved him more...

None of that matters now.

They considered Geroge Foyet “cured” and released him back into society.

Where his first stop was to a library, where he found the address of the man who put in prison. Federal Prosecutor Aaron Hotchner.

This is the part the dreams never get right. Foyet didn’t have a gun. He had a knife. A single pocket knife that he stole from a junkie in an alley. It had been late and Haley had answered the door. Hotch hadn’t even heard her cry out for him. He’d been wrangling Jack out of the tub, the little boy a mess of squirming limbs and very upset with his father for making him take a bath.

They’d been in Jack’s room when Foyet found them.

He’d had his back turned to the door, shushing the crying baby as best as he could while trying to get a diaper around his kicking legs. The first stab had been so quick… by the third he was on his knees and unable to do anything besides keep falling.

On that floor, George Foyet stabbed him six more times. Jack had screamed and cried the entire time. He’d been too young to understand, not even a full year old, but he knew something wasn’t right.

In the dreams, Foyet always kills Jack too. The harsh, overwhelming sound of silence those little cries silenced. There one moment and gone the very next.

He can’t remember much of what happened.

Foyet had moved to Jack, picking the boy up and shushing him. Hotch had watched, immobilized and too weak to even beg for his son to be spared. So he’d watched, choking on his blood, and slowly losing his battle with consciousness as Foyet settled down in the rocking chair in the corner of the room and rocked his son. Soothed him.

A neighbor would walk by and see Haley laying in the hall. The blood…

Hotch had died on the operating table, a fact that Dave would later inform him of. He can’t remember recovery all that well. Clouded with drugs and grief, he… There was once, he remembers this clearly because it had only been a short time after he’d woken up, they’d brought Jack in. Dave and the nurses had been trying everything to calm him but he wasn’t sleeping or eating. He’d cry and cry and cry until he made himself puke or passed out.

The moment they placed Jack in Hotch’s arms, the baby had stilled. His pained cries dying to whimpers as he looked up at his father.

Hotch had been propped up with pillows. Too weak to even lift his own head but they’d stacked pillows around his sides and arms. He couldn’t fight the exhaustion weighing his body down but he clung to Jack. Waking from his sleep in a panic each time, watching the room’s other occupants in case they might try to take Jack from him.

After all the time he’d been nearly unresponsive to them, if having Jack around would keep his heart rate up and his oxygen intake steadily improving no one was going to complain. Several times he woke to his gown being moved so they could place Jack against him. Skin on skin therapy does wonders on humans of all ages. Recovery had been easier with Jack there. The baby stripped to his diaper and nestled against his chest. Little fingers grasping onto him.

It’s been three years and George Foyet follows him everywhere he goes.

“Professor?”

He makes his own lesson plans. He knows which cases come up when. “Who--” he makes the mistake of looking at the screen and his heart stills in his chest. Swallowing thickly around the obstruction in his throat, he looks down to the floor forcing himself to take in a steadying breath. “Who, um, can explain why this case can’t be dismissed on the grounds of Gamble v United States?”

He doesn’t need to call on a student. There’s only about ten kids in the class and it's a ridiculously easy question.

“It’s two separate accounts,” someone speaks up. “Same thing, sure, same crime even but that’s not how double jeopardy works. Besides, you’d want to look more into United States v Felix. Um--” The hard sound of one of the automatically folding chairs shutting in on itself sounds out through the room. “Sir?”

“Sir, are you okay?”

Hotch grips the edge of the desk tighter, his knuckles whitening under the strain. “I’m--” his knees buckle but he forces his weight to his arms. Squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his teeth. “I’m okay,” he manages.

A student, he can’t tell which one, cautiously approaches his side. “Sir,” he calls. The student, Carter one of his more extroverted and adventurous students, squats down by his side, hand on his back just above his belt. “Not to alarm you,” Carter says, “but I think you’re having an anxiety attack. Do you have any medicine? Is there something we can do?”

Hotch squeezes his eyes shut, trying to work against the tears rapidly falling down his cheek. “My--” he grabs frantically for his tie. The knot against his throat tightening steadily to a noose until he can’t stand it. His hands are too weak to pull the material away but graciously, his useless fingers are pushed aside. Carter undoes the knot quickly and Hotch is suddenly very thankful that Carter’s pompous, cocky agenda brings a tie into his little aesthetic.

“In my office,” Hotch rasps, his hand twisted around his dress shirt. “It’s--” he sinks to the floor, head between his knees. “... a few,” he manages, “in my office.”

Carter turns over his shoulder. “Billy!”

Hotch looks up and watches Billy meagerly rise from where she’s called. Billy, while a great student, is riddled with social anxiety. Despite having taught the young woman all three years he’s been employed at the university she can’t meet his eye when they talk. And she always makes great haste in avoiding him. He’s never bothered to figure out if she’s got issues with authority, a problem with her father, or if she just hates him that much.

Carter turns back to Hotch, surprised by the startlingly vacant look in the man’s eyes. His eyes just watch Billy where she stands anxiously waiting to find out what awful thing she’s going to be asked to do.

“Sir,” Carter shakes Hotch a little. Smiling reassuringly when Hotch’s bloodshot eyes meet his. “I’m going to send Billy to get Professor Prentiss, is that okay? Billy is going to get the professor and we’re going to head to your office, alright?”

Hotch nods.

“Can-Can’t someone else go?”

Carter helps Hotch to his feet, graciously nodding his head to another student who slides under Hotch’s other arm. “No, Billy. Now go.”

Professor Prentiss is a notorious hardass. Her students love her but everyone else is terrified to even cross her path. She’s like a black cat, bound to be bad luck. It did not help Hotch’s already scary demeanor to befriend her. To spot the two of them coming across campus, Emily always professionally dressed in slacks and a dress shirt and Hotch in his standard suit and tie, they’d built a good rapport for being scarily mysterious.

Despite how frequently they could be spotted in the campus café laughing over a cup of coffee. Their human moments always outweigh their harsh ones. In fact, Emily Prentiss has only ever come down on a few students. The ones dumb enough to try and fool her. Hotch has never raised his voice to a student and is surprisingly lenient for a law professor or even just a professor in general.

For goodness sake, Emily stops to talk to the campus cats.

Hotch wears a little beanie with a red knot at the top Professor Garcia made him two Christmas’ ago and spends the spring semester chasing his son around the quad. (Garcia made him the beanie so she could recognize him easier in public. There are way too many tall men in suits around but the red little knot makes him easily detectable)

That’s not to say they’re still not intimidating.

“Pr-Professor Prentiss?”

Turning slowly from her chalkboard, Emily faces the weary voice. First of all, this is a senior advanced level Arabic class so there are only five students present and she knows each and everyone one of them. Well enough to know that whoever just called out her name is not one of her own. Nevermind they never break from Arabic during class time. Under her breath, in Arabic, Emily mumbles, “freshman.”

Yet, the young woman is dressed surprisingly professional.

“What is it,” Emily asks, crossing her arms. She pushes her glasses down her nose, moving the reading frame out of her sight. Looking down the length of her nose, raising an eyebrow at the girl. As if interrupting her class wasn’t bad enough, she’s not trying to waste instruction time on some undergraduate student roaming where she shouldn’t be.

The student steps in a little more, chest heaving, breathless, and looking anywhere but at Emily, stammers her way through an explanation. “Uh,” she wets her lips. “Um, Prof--Professor Hotchner he, um, he was-- he was taking us through, um, a criminal law case and he was…”

The half-amused smirk on Emily’s lips placed there in the humor of what she thought was going to be some silly mistake or a prank from a coworker is wiped away. Penelope has sent mischievous students her way in the past, to knock them down a few pegs or remind them who's in-charge here. Derek’s sent way too many kids over, a whole class once, instead of doing his job. It’s becoming very clear this is not a joke.

Tossing her glasses on her desk, she demands, “where is he?”

The girl takes two steps back, not liking Emily’s shift. “He, um, Carter took him to his office, ma’am. He--”

Emily turns to her students, “class is canceled. I’ll send you a text this afternoon to make up for class.” Then with a nod, takes off up the catwalk, shoes sounding sharply against the tile. “We’ll facetime!” Motioning the girls to follow, “you, with me. Let’s go.”

She sends Dave a text, nothing complex just “Aaron, SOS”.

Hotch’s office is down the same hall as his favorite auditorium to lecture in. She’d bullied him pretty hard upon finding this fact out. It sounded very, very nerdy. And it is. What kind of normal person has a favorite lecture hall? Let alone a favorite room? Just as promised, that’s where he is.

He’s on the floor, stripped of his jacket and his shirt thrown open to reveal his white-shirt. His head is in between his knees and a young man, Carter, Emily presumes, is struggling to open the orange bottle of Valium. People go broke buying the stuff from drug dealers and Hotch will refuse one up until he’s breathless and shaking.

“Get out.”

The boy stops, “what?”

Emily nods her head out the door, “both of you, out.”

They share a look but neither student puts up a fight.

Emily cracks the bottle open with a single twist, pouring a pill out into her hand. The only thing she has around to drink is what looks like either tea or coffee from (nothing him) days ago. He doesn’t use creamer but there’s still probably something toxic in their brewing. “Here,” she kneels down beside him.

He looks up, face broken out in sweat and cheeks flushed, and takes the pill from her palm.

“You okay,” she asks, rubbing his back. She watches her friend carefully, studying him.

He takes a deep breath and holds it, ticking the seconds away in his head. Nodding, he closes his eyes and hangs his head back limply between his knees. He lasts only a moment, eyes flying open she finds nothing but pure terror in his dark eyes.

“Hotch,” she calls, unsure if he’s even here with her right now. “Hotch, calm down. What’s going on?”

He shakes his head, “hard to breathe…” His hand comes to his shirt, gripping the white material tightly. “Can’t-- Can’t get enough… not enough air.”

She nods her head, sounds about right. “You’re okay,” she promises. “You’re completely safe right here with me, okay? We’re in your office and you’ve taken a Valium.”

He nods. Right. His office. He can feel the rough mug and smell the old books.

It’s hot. “Off,” he rasps, tugging harshly on his shirt. “Off. I want it--” Too hot and too tight and all over him and--

“Okay,” Emily stops his frantic movements, his hands tearing at his dress shirt. “Okay,” she grabs his left hand by the wrist, easily pulling the shirt off his shoulder and moving his arm out of the fabric. He’s already calming back down, sinking forward as she works his right arm out.

He’d been trapped. Hot and trapped and his brain isn’t working right.

“That’s better,” Emily whispers. She moves closer to him, sitting between his legs and hesitantly pulls him into a hug. He goes where he’s pulled, letting her guide his head to her shoulder.

He sniffles, unable to stop his tears. “He was there,” he whispers. “I saw him.”

She soothes him but she has no idea who or what he’s talking about it. All she knows is that three years ago Dave dragged Hotch here and had a look around. He’d been a mess then. Hair windswept or maybe just unkept and leaning heavily on a cane while Jack had circled them excitedly. She’d shaken his hand and greeted him because Dave is her friend; he'd introduced Aaron as an old friend. He’d looked haggard and disheveled but that hadn’t bothered Emily too much. He’d intrigued her.

Aaron started in an introductory course that fall. Predictably, Dave had allowed him into their trusted group of friends. He’d been removed, at first. Distant and didn’t speak much. Not that he speaks all that much now but it was so much worse back then. Whatever he’d needed that cane for, whatever had driven him from prosecution, whatever had made him a widower and single father that remained his secret. A part of him so guarded only Dave knew and, as she suspected, he would be the only one to ever know.

“Good Lord,” Dave appears in the doorway, shaking his head at the sight before him. “You look like hell.” He leans against the frame of the door, arms crossed. “You know,” he informs them casually. “The two of you have officially ruined your image around here. How’s anyone going to be afraid of you if they walk past this door and see the two of you cuddling on the floor?”

Emily scoffs but doesn’t move away. She keeps moving her hand up and down his back. His breathing has calmed back down but his heart is still racing. “Shut up,” she grumbles. “At least, my reputation isn't being a sleaze bag.”

Dave sucks his teeth, frowning at her. “I am not a sleaze bag,” he defends. He’s not. His reputation for sleeping with the faculty does preside him but it’s horribly honorable that he stays away from the students. They all know coworkers not upholding that standard.

“You okay,” Emily directs her attention back to Hotch. He squirms out of her hold, shakily forcing his feet back under his body and standing.

“Hey,” Garcia knocks on the door and squeezes in beside Rossi. “Everything okay in here?”

Hotch turns his body away from her, scrubbing his face with hands.

“Yeah,” Emily assures her with a smile. It’s obviously not the truth. Hotch is standing in his white undershirt, dress shirt and suit jacket on the floor. His tie not even on the same half of the room. There’s a pill bottle knocked over on his desk and his hair, from what can be seen from the back, is crazy. “We’re good, Pen.”

Garcia nods her head, skeptically. “Okay,” she smiles, eyeing Hotch. He glances over his shoulder at her and she can see his red rimmed eyes and wet face. It’s okay if he doesn’t trust her with this kind of stuff just yet. She understands. “I’ll see you guys at lunch?”

Hotch nods, “we’ll see you there.” His voice is surprisingly rough but she leaves without comment.

Emily reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. “Why don’t you stay here, alright?” He’s still shaking and looks rather awful. “I’m going to send your class home. Take a nap or something, you look like a train wreck.”

Hotch just hums, lifting his his hands to his face. The feeling of his body is yet to return. His arms don’t even feel connected to his body. Rubbing his hands across his face he can hear Emily and Dave whispering behind him.

“See you at lunch, Hotch.” Emily says as she steps out of the room.

Leaving Dave and Hotch.

“Are you ever going to talk about it?” Dave asks.

Hotch sighs but doesn’t turn to face the man.

“Come on,” Dave sighs. “It’s been years. If you don’t get it out, it’s going to kill you.”

George Foyet going to kill Aaron. Maybe not today but it’s a matter of time.

“Not now,” Hotch mumbles, turning his attention to his desk. He brushes the spilled pills into the bottle. Ignoring the careful way Dave regards him. He knows he has to eventually work out these stupid nightmares. It’s one thing to find himself trapped there in that house at night. It’s another when the nightmares work their way into the light.

“One day then, hmm?”

Hotch freezes, his anxiety sky rockets just thinking about it. They’ll have to institutionalize him first. Drug him up and throw away the key before he finds the words to describe what happened that day. Mentally, he’s not even sure he’s strong enough to think about it for too long.

Clearing his throat Hotch nods, “right.” He takes a deep breath. Lawyers are blood sucking liars, right? Well, he hopes this once Dave believes his bluff. “One day.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #david rossi #emily prentiss #jack hotchner #canon divergence #crimimal minds au #penelope garcia #spencer reid #derek morgan #jennifer jareua #haley hotchner #george foyet

108 notes · View notes

inkrabbit · 3 years

Text

Kiss Goodnight - Part 2

I wasn’t going to make a part 2, but someone had said they hoped I would and I couldn’t get this out of my head so here we are. Lowkey don’t like it, but like it’s here.

Summary: You deserved to be happy, and you deserved to be happy with Kieran. And no one is going to stop that from happening.

Word count: 1,521

You’re surprised when you find yourself waking up, looking at the ceiling of a tent. You’re almost confused, figuring you would’ve died from blood loss by now. That’s when the searing pain comes back, shooting through your body and making you groan. Gritting your teeth and squeezing your eyes shut, you move to lay a hand over the wound. Your shirt’s been lifted up, exposing the stitches that kept your flesh together.

“Now don’t you go pickin’ at it!” That voice. You had missed it, to be honest. Miss Grimshaw walks over, a bowl of water and a clean cloth in her hand. She’s glaring at you, but you can see the look of relief in her eyes.

“Hey, Miss Grimshaw,” you laugh softly, your voice hoarse. She just scoffs as she sits down in the chair next to the cot.

“Don’t you “hey, Miss Grimshaw” me,” she snaps, dabbing the cloth in the cold water. Leaning forward, she starts to gently wipe around your stitches, making you groan. “Don’t know why you decided to go off all alone like that! Didn’t say anything to anyone. Just left camp in the middle of the night, just like that!” “I got Kieran back,” you remind her, willing your voice louder to make a point. She rolls her eyes. “How’s he doing?”

“Better than you,” she sighs. She sits there for a moment, her once angry expression softening. “You gave us quite a scare, you know that? What were you thinking?”

“I just…” You trail off for a moment. Honestly, you hadn’t been thinking. Your only thought was to get Kieran back to safety and clean him up. “I guess I wasn’t thinkin’, Miss Grimshaw. I just wanted him safe.”

“Well don’t you go doin’ anything stupid like this again,” You nod and let her work, cleaning the area and checking your stitches. When she’s all done, she gives you a small smile, patting your shoulder and leaving you alone.

That’s how it went for the next few weeks. Different members would come by to check on you, offering food or water. When Kieran heard you had woken up, however, he was by your side 24/7. He had joked he couldn’t get far without any help anyway, but he sure as hell bothered Arthur to lead him over to you. He had told you that Miss Grimshaw had fixed him up and was keeping his sockets clean while you were out. You noticed clean bandages had replaced your old bandana, and you felt your heart drop every time you stared at them.

“I’m just real glad you’re awake,” he says softly. You smile, going to grab his hand. He keeps his grip tight on yours, holding it close to his chest.

“I ain’t gonna leave you, Kieran,” you promise him. He smiles, bringing his other hand up to hold yours with both. You can feel him start to shake, his breathing getting heavier.

“I-I was just… s-scared,” he whimpers out, “I-I didn’t want ya to-”

“And I didn’t,” you cut him off. Having finally gotten your strength back, you force yourself to sit up, reaching out to run a hand through his hair. He leans into your touch, and you can feel him calm down. He takes deep breaths in, exhaling them slowly before he nods. The two of you sit in silence for a bit, enjoying each other’s company.

“C-can I…” Kieran starts, though he trails off, biting his bottom lip and you have to urge him to speak. “Can I… k-kiss you again?”

“I’d love that,” You gave to meet him halfway, the poor man hesitating when he realizes he doesn’t know where you’re positioned. He’s quick to kiss you back however, almost desperately. You move your hands up to cup his face, and he places his over yours in return. Relief hits you like a train. Being able to hold and kiss Kieran like this. To know he felt the same way. To know you almost lost it all because of the gang.

“Kieran,” You pull back slightly, stroking your thumb across his cheek. He lets out a soft hum, tilting his head slightly. “Let’s leave. You and me.”

“Leave? He seems surprised and almost scared, brows knitted together as he purses his lips. “Like… leave the gang?”

“Leave the gang,” you repeat quickly, now becoming antsy. You peck his lips one more time. No, you wouldn’t lose this man a third time. Good people were hard to come by and you weren’t about to have your time with the sweetest of them all ruined.

“And go where?” he sighs. You can see him growing more anxious, fidgeting and biting his lip more.

“I know a place,” you tell him. Of course you did. The gang wouldn’t be able to follow you even if they wanted to, the little cabin right beyond the cutoff point for West Elizabeth. “I just need you to trust me, Kieran. Do ya trust me?”

“I do, but…” He seems more panicked, and out of habit he goes to look around, hunching his shoulders when he realizes he can’t see anything. Nonetheless, he lowers his voice, making absolutely sure only you can hear him. “What about the others? Can we really just leave them?”

“Kieran, I’m not losing you again,” Your firm tone surprises him, but a small smile forms on his lips. “Come with me, Kieran. Just you and me. We’ll be okay.”

“I… okay,” He finally nods, and it makes your heart speed up. “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

You’re quick to launch forward, pulling him into a tight embrace, only to feel your old wound act up. The sharp pain makes you hiss, and it panics the poor man, who’s frantically asking if you’re okay. You reassure him with a sweet kiss. Tonight. You two would leave the gang behind tonight, and you’d never look back.

Or so you thought. You had packed your things and even swiped some medical supplies and food, packing them up neatly. Just like last time, you wait until the dead of night. You had already put Kieran atop Branwen, the man waiting patiently for you to pack everything up. But when you had closed the suit case and picked it up, the front doors opened. Staring at you with a confused expression was Arthur, his eyes flickering between the case and your face.

“Y/N?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed as he takes a few steps forward. You purse your lips but straighten yourself up, a firm look on your face. “What is all this?”

“I… we’re leavin’, Arthur,” you tell him. Your heart is racing and he looks even more confused?

“Leavin’? You and who else?” he asks. You have to take a few breaths to steady yourself.

“That ain’t none of your concern,” you respond. He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re leavin’, and that’s that.”

“You tell Dutch? Hosea?” You roll your eyes at him.

“Yes, Arthur. Matter of fact, I did,” you sneer. Tightening your hold on the suit case, you start for the door, but the man grabs your shoulder, holding you in place.

“Just gonna leave everyone?” he tries softly, “The women? Little Jack?”

“We deserve to be happy!” Your sharp response is louder than you anticipate, and this catches Arthur off guard. He lets his hand slip from your shoulder as you stand there, breathing heavily. “I just… want to be happy while I can.”

“With Kieran?” You swallow thickly, nodding your head as you repeat his words with a firm tone. A low hum reverberates in his throat, but he finally nods. “Where’re you two goin’?”

“Sean-” Your mouth runs dry. Oh, Sean. No, you refused to end up in Karen’s situation. “Sean said he had an old cabin. Hid there before the ferry job.”

“That’s dangerous,” You nod, a soft “I know” escaping your lips. His inhale almost scares you, but he reaches up to pat your shoulder. “You be safe, you hear me?”

“Arthur?” You feel yourself fill with hope, a small smile forming on his face.

“Hell, I wanted to leave myself,” he confesses. You knew the story, everyone did. “Just don’t forget about us, ya hear?”

You don’t respond. Instead, you pull him into a tight hug. He almost crushes you, acting like he didn’t want to let you go. He tells you softly to look after Kieran for him and to make sure he was okay. You left with a teary goodbye, rushing over the horses before anyone else could try and stop you. Kieran had sent a warm smile when he heard your footsteps approaching, asking if you were ready. With one last look at Shady Belle, you tell him you are. Mounting your horse, you ride close to Branwen, Kieran having given you the other half of the reins. Tanner’s Ranch. Sean had always spoke about how beautiful it was, and how hidden it had been deep within the forest. Looking over at Kieran, you can’t help but smile. Yeah. That would do just fine. You both deserved to be happy.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #kieran duffy #gn!reader #kieran x gn!reader

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adhdeancas · 3 years

Text

Sunset Sound: Rusty Cage

Chapter 6 is on AO3 here!

oo baby we ( @friedchickenangelwings and I) are getting to the mushy parts and buddy am I excited to show you... but until then, we’ve got some redemption team building (fuck TPTB!) here you go:

“Of all the godforsaken hellholes in the thankless void-”

“Shut up, Crowley.” Meg and Cas say it at the same time, which stops Crowley from pacing around the cell so he can put his hands on his hips and pout. Cas rolls his eyes and turns back to Meg.

“Meg, is it really… you?” Cas doesn’t want to hope, but this Meg seems… real. Like Meg. The demon in question scowls like she’s offended by the question.

“Missed me, Clarence?”

“Yes.” Cas says automatically, feeling no need to hide it. Meg’s face changes a bit, softens into something that’s not disdain. “How can I know it’s really you? Tell me something only you would know.” Cas is desperately wishing that this is real, isn’t just another Empty-induced vision trying to make him lose hope. Meg was there in one of his lowest times, was nice to him, and though he knew she had somewhat of an ulterior motive, he also sensed her genuine care for him. The idea of finally seeing her again gave him just a spark of hope, just a spark.

Meg’s eyes glistened with mirth. “Are you sure you want me to do that?”

Cas gives a side-eye to Crowley and rethinks. “A hint.”

She taps her fingers on her knee, sticks her lips out in thought. Something comes to mind, Cas watches it form into an idea and she smiles. “Pizza man.”

Cas flashes back to a determined, rather out of his mind moment when he looked at Meg and decided to practice his make-out moves. Admittedly, she was a good kisser. Unfortunately, he did it directly in front of Dean and Sam. His cheeks turn pink as Meg grins. “Good to see you, Meg.What are you doing here?”

Meg shrugs. She kicks her feet up on the bars of her cell and looks at Cas. “Apparently I’m a ‘disruption,’” she says plainly. “The bible-thumpers don’t like that much.”

“Disruption? What are you disrupting?” Crowley sighs loudly behind him.

“What isn’t she disrupting? That’s her deal. To annoy.”

“Eat glass, Crowley.” Meg replies cheerfully.

“Enough, you two.”

There’s a tense moment of silence before Meg continues. “I’ve been slashing my way through the bitch, ever since I heard it’s been using my face.” She raises an eyebrow. Cas blinks at her.

“You’ve been attacking The Empty?” The insanity of this demon. He loves her.

Meg smirks. “I like this face. Fought hard for it. Besides, not like I had much of a chance getting out of here, anyway. I figured, might as well have my fun before it valiums the place.”

“Had?” Crowley sounds indignant. “No, absolutely not.” He knows what she’s implying. Cas perks up immediately. If she’s proposing an alliance, that means she has something to give. Something that might get them out of this despicable, hopeless hole.

“You have a way out?”

Meg nods, eyes wandering to Crowley. “I just needed some more muscle. So, what do you say, Clarence? Crowley?” The latter name comes with an abundance of venom. “Team up?”

Crowley and Cas share a glance before Crowley grunts. “It’s a deal.”

Meg gloats for a few minutes, as long as she can while the angel and demon glare at her from across the room. Finally she gives in and explains her plan.

They’re all reclining casually when the angel comes back to check on them. It’s an angel Cas doesn’t recognize, one of his brothers that had fallen long ago, probably some of the only to follow Hester’s ways. “Hey handsome,” Meg drawls when he comes in. He remains stoic as he peeks in at Crowley, who waves back campily. “I’ve always had a thing for men with religious guilt.”

She sends a wink to Cas before the angel turns to her. “I’m not a man.” he says simply, trying to appear unaffected. He steps closer to her cell, and she bares her teeth more than grins.

“Angel, then.”

“Yes.” Meg nods and sticks an arm through her cell bars, putting a soft hand on the back of the angel’s neck. He steps a little closer, almost up to the bars and Meg. “Do you really expect me to want to-”

“Oh don’t flatter yourself, handsome,” Meg spits out. With a grunt she brings her other hand to the front and cuts open the front of his neck with a shining fragment of blade. The angel’s grace flows out and into the air. Meg uses telekinesis to keep it floating there before shoving the rest of the fragment through his neck.

He dies with a gurgle and a whimper.

Meg waves her hand and some of the grace flies in a circle through the bars. The grace sizzles and burns on the hard surface, and Meg pushes broken bars out and steps through. “Found out by accident that pure grace is like acid to this pit.” She pushes a new shot of grace to cut through Crowley and Cas’s cell bars. They climb out after her, and Cas grabs the angel’s discarded sword.

“Dandy. Now let’s kill us a few fanatics, huh?”

They sneak down the hallway, but encounter no new enemies. Creeping up a short set of stairs yields no threats either. They are almost through the next hallway when they hear “Castiel?” and Cas’s blood runs cold.

The three look over to the dark cell the voice is coming from. Emerging from the shadows, leather duster blending into the darkness of the wall, is Billie.

Cas pushes Meg and Crowley forward trying to rush them out of Billie’s sight. It doesn’t seem to matter, though. “Castiel, wait. Please.” Cas pauses and stands then, offering a questioning and cautious glance over at his companions, who seem just as confused. “We can help each other.”

Cas crosses his arms. He doesn’t know what to expect from Billie. The last time he’d seen her she’d been hellbent (excuse the pun) on bringing him and Dean personally to a fresh grave. “Why would I trust you?”

Billie meets his gaze. “Because I have insider info. I know what’s happening out there, with Sam and Dean. And Jack.”

Cas knows it could be a trick, he does, but he can’t help his curiosity. “Are they alright?”

Billie takes a look at Crowley and Meg then before looking back at Cas. “Let me out and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Cas immediately looks to Meg. She uses the last bit of angel grace she has manipulated and frees Billie from her cage. “Okay, you’re free. Are they alright?”

“Hm, snookums, I think the chat will have to wait.” Crowley calls back. He’s peeking up the last set of stairs until freedom, and it’s then that Cas hears voices and footsteps. “We’ve got company.”

The fight is rough and quick. Cas and Meg go out first, angel blade and blade fragment in hand. He tosses his first kill to Crowley, who catches him and pries the blade out of his weakening grasp. Meg does the same with Billie (albeit a bit more roughly) and they fight back to back. Cas battles at two angels at once, ending one with an uppercut to the chin and dodging the other. Meg lodges her blade fragment in the knee of her opponent and uses his own blade to kill him. Crowley sidesteps the angel running at him and shoves him up against the building to slit his throat. Grace oozes out and he wipes his blade in it, flicking the liquid at the feet of the angel attacking Billie. The ground under them burns and dissolves, giving Billie the moment she needed to take her kill. A few minutes later Hester and her closest rush outside to see the commotion. They start toward them immediately and Billie shouts to alert them.

“Clarence, retreat!” Cas is too caught up grappling with a larger angel that he doesn’t notice the advance. Meg steps in and tosses him off. She yanks Cas back by the arm and he stumbles into a run with Crowley and Billie. They sprint off in the direction of the closest scuffle, losing their captors in a sea of skirmishing entities. It isn’t until they pass another such grouping that they stop to breathe.

“Fuck.” Billie breathes. It makes Meg laugh, which makes Billie almost smile.

“You said it, sister.”

“We’re out.” Cas repeats. He didn’t think they would get this far. “Let’s hope they give up.”

Crowley raises an eyebrow. “On the Empty’s orders. Sorry Cas, but fat chance.”

Billie nods her agreement. “The Empty is bolstering them with every ounce of hope it sucks from the rest. They’ll keep going as much as we want to stop.”

It sobers the group quickly, as they all realize it’s true. They want to stop running. Their heads tell them all in different voices, but they all say the same thing: it’s hopeless. Give up. Give in. Lay down and die.

“Too bad. I was hoping the little bitches would get tired.” Cas gives Meg a tired smile before he remembers what Billie had promised.

“You said you could sense what happened to the Winchesters, to Jack. Billie, are they alright? Did they defeat Chuck?”

“Yeah, what’s up with that anyway? Why do you get extra juice?”

Crowley levels Meg with a withering glare. “She was Death.”

“Until recently.” Billie adds, glancing at Cas with an indecipherable expression.

Meg blinks. “Oh. Alright.” No comeback for that one.

“What do you know?”

Billie sighs. “I can sense Chuck. He’s… redistributed.” She massages her temple, obviously trying to mine information. “Into Jack. Jack is… in heaven.”

“He’s dead?” Cas’s stomach drops out of his body. Billie quickly shakes her head.

“No, he’s… different. He’s alive.” Cas exhales in relief. “Castiel, Jack is more powerful than ever before.”

Cas frowns at her. “So you’re saying he’s… God, now?”

“Your bloody kid is God?” Crowley interrupts incredulously.

“Your what-now?”

“Then why hasn’t he flown us out of here?” Crowley seems enraged. Meg is flabbergasted. Cas holds them both off as he thinks.

“Something’s wrong.” he mutters.

Yes. I’m dead. Billie’s wrong. Cas knows it isn’t really Jack, but his head snaps up anyway. His child is standing stiffly a few feet away, bright eyes fixed on Cas. You didn’t save me. You just left me there, alone. How could you do that, Cas? You told Kelly you would protect me, you promised!

“Jack would have… he would have saved me. Something’s wrong.” Cas nods. Jack saved him from the Empty before they’d even met, there is no way an even-more-powerful Jack wouldn’t do the same immediately. Either he is being manipulated or there is something wrong with him, and Cas will settle for neither. “We need to get out of here ourselves,” he says firmly. He looks up and says it to the Empty’s version of Jack, bright, lifeless eyes, so unlike his kid’s.

You’ll never make it.

We have to try.

tag list (ask to be added or removed):

@dochunterwitch @justonecitizenoftheearth @gnbrules @purpe @castiel-is-a-cat @alienapparatus @damian-janus-pendragon

#sunset sound #chapter 6 #rusty cage #destiel #deancas #fanfic #billie #meg masters #crowley #castiel #hester #jack kline #chuck shurley #my writing

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greatshell-rider · 3 years

Text

“Al, wait!” Toby cried, scrambling after her. “We shouldn’t be here!”

“What are you, scared?” she called over her shoulder, long strides quick and eager.

“Yeah! Yeah, I am! If M. Harriet finds out about this . . .”

“Hmmm,” was all the response he got.

He shook his head, making the light streaming ahead of him from his headlamp wobble, and hurried faster to catch up to the thin slip of a girl marching through the cave, her blond hair swinging smartly from side to side in its ponytail, synced to her step. She was so sure of herself, always in motion, never waiting for any one or thing to tell her what to do. The camp counselors had never stood a chance. Toby couldn’t convince her to leave using threats; he had to appeal to her own interests and goals, not what others thought of or would do to her.

So he tried again. “Randall said the meteor shower’s peak is happening at three A.M., which is—” he checked his wristwatch— “an hour away! We won’t see anything good unless we start heading back now—”

“What does Randall know?” Al interrupted, dismissive. “Besides, don’t you want to see Jack again? We’re doing this for you, remember.”

“We don’t have to be doing this at night,” Toby complained, but he hesitated. Jack. Two days had passed since he’d stumbled upon that lost hiker in the woods while in the middle of the deep-woods navigation scavenger hunt, two days since Toby had seen or spoken to him—and even just hearing his name made him shiver.

The memory was so distinct in his mind. Kneeling by the stranger’s head from where they lay a distance from the closest deer trail, apparently having collapsed and definitely unconscious. They had a pulse, but was badly sunburned, with cracked lips and no water bottle or snacks that Toby could see. Dirty, disheveled and torn clothes, all fabric and skin caked with dust, but their hair had stayed soft, long black curls falling over Toby’s hands like water as he’d carefully moved the hiker’s head to a more comfortable position after rolling them over onto their back. As soon as he had touched his water bottle to the hiker’s lips, they’d awoken, dark green eyes flaring open to meet Toby’s own. After some awkward explaining and introductions, Toby had learned:

1. The hiker’s name was Jack.

2. Jack was far from home.

3. He wanted to return, but couldn’t leave the mountains until he found something that had been lost.

4. That thing was in Spruce Fire Cave.

And Toby knew this already: Spruce Fire was within Blue River Campgrounds, and no outside visitors were allowed in.

“But I need it,” Jack had said, fierce and earnest, gripping Toby’s hand hard. “It’s rightfully mine. They took it from me and—” A snap of a tree branch startled them both, and Jack jerked to his feet, looking like a deer who’d spotted a hound. “They can’t find me,” he’d hissed, then disappeared into the trees before Toby could object, right as Al had stepped out, asking who that’d been.

Al could keep a secret though. She kept plenty of her own to herself; Toby didn’t know if a soul knew where Al had come from, or who her parents were, not even the counselors or M. Harriet. But she also had connections, ways to smuggle information or goods in and out of camp, and before sundown of the same day, she’d found out more about Jack from her contact in town.

A ghost, apparently. Jack was a ghost.

“How long has he been haunting this mountain, again?” Toby asked reluctantly, brought out of the past by the realization that he’d been quiet for a while now, and they were deeper than ever in Spruce Fire Cave.

“Mal says the stories start some ten, fifteen years back,” Al said, ducking under a low outcropping of rock before turning sideways to squeeze down a narrow passage. She grunted, and her next words came out strained. “Overnight hikers can hear him at the edges of their campfire at night, asking for directions. But they say he’ll stay lost until he finds his compass. His mother’s or something.”

“His mother who died in the fire,” Toby said, gut twisting, and he barely even noticed the constriction on his ribs as he followed after Al.

“Well they both died—though no one can agree exactly how—but it was his fault. And that’s why he’s the ghost. He’s got to make it better. So they say.”

“So they say,” Toby echoed, then concentrated as they reached the tricky part of the cave, where the ceiling was relatively high, but the path narrow, with a crevice wide enough to fall down on Toby’s left. The counselors had made everyone go single-file here, with an adult at the beginning and at the end of “Traitor’s Teeth”, as it was called, because of the jagged rocks forming the lip of the crevice that made it look like a grinning mouth. But just a little farther, and they would reach the end of the cave, the largest cavern with its clearwater pool and impressive curtain of stalactites that almost seemed to glow when all the campers had their flashlights turned on them. Toby remembered his cabin’s visit from the beginning of the week well, and the counselors had warned sternly about the consequences of littering in the cave—no way a compass had been left there, if one had ever been found.

But Toby still had to try and look. He couldn’t help but sympathize with ghosts; he’d grown up with his father telling him about his grandmother, after all. If there was a chance he could help Jack—who looked no older than Toby’s fourteen—he had to take it. No matter what he did, he couldn’t shake the image of cradling Jack’s head in his lap, the weight of it on his hands. He had seemed so real, so vulnerable, and the thought of the pain that he had experienced, was still experiencing, for fifteen years now, made Toby’s heart ache.

Al was right. The counselors never would have let them go up into Spruce Fire alone. Sure, it wasn’t safe to be here at night, but it was the only way.

They were still on Traitor’s Teeth. Toby nearly bumped into Al before realizing she’d stopped dead in her tracks. “Al?” he said, peering over her shoulder.

Silently, she pointed. Barely a foot ahead, a chunk of stone was missing from the path, leaving a ragged hole that joined with the crevice. Al swore quietly, then stepped up to the hole and leaned over to examine it.

“Al, careful!” Toby grabbed her shoulder in alarm, partly to keep her from falling, and partly because the sight suddenly made him dizzy. The nausea in his stomach rose, and coldness flushed down the back of his neck as his nervousness returned. “Al,” he forced out, holding himself steady against her, “now we really need to get back. There’s no way we’ll get past that!”

“You’re right,” Al said, straightening.

“No, really, it’s too big. We can’t—wait, what?”

“Let’s go, Toby,” Al said, turning around and moving his hand off her.

“Awesome,” he said faintly, shuffling his feet to go back the other way, but had to stop when the nausea hit again, this time like a punch to his stomach. He groaned and hunched over, barely holding himself back from puking the remains of dinner—chili dogs—into Traitor’s Teeth.

“Toby?” he heard Al say, but dimly, as if she were far away rather than right next to him, and felt pressure on his shoulder as she grabbed him. “Are you—”

And then he was falling.

And then it went black.

~~~~

Toby woke to Al calling his name and shaking his shoulder, then the glaring yellow light of her headlamp when he opened his eyes. He groaned, trying to turn away, but it hurt too much, he realized. Every bone in his body hurt, and his head was screaming. He touched his temple, and it came away wet with blood.

“Finally you’re awake,” Al said, in a different tone Toby had ever heard from her. “I wasn’t looking forward to dragging you, you know. Now, up you go.” She tugged on his arm, and he let her pull him unsteadily to his feet. “Woah,” she said as he swayed, his eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched tight as a new wave of nausea swept over him. She laughed when he sagged against her, but slung an arm over his shoulders to support him. “My, how close two can get in less than a week.”

Her laugh upset him. “What’s funny about this?” he asked, forcing his eyes open. His headlamp was out, but Al’s still worked, and he could make out gray stone all around them, different from the brown rock of Spruce Fire. “Al, where are we?”

She pointed up, and Toby craned his aching head back to see a ragged rip in the rock ceiling above them. The light of Al’s headlamp threw back dramatic shadows in the stone teeth, making them look huge and sharp. He blinked a few times in confusion, his body hurting so much he could hardly think, but then everything that had happened caught up to him. “We fell down Traitor’s Teeth?”

“You fell,” Al said, tipping her head toward him. “I more like, skidded down, on my feet.” She moved her free hand down diagonally, making short, jerky stops to mimic a descent down an uneven slope. “Easy enough. But come on. It’s close.” She started walking.

“You followed me down?” Toby said in disbelief, forced to stumble after her with her arm still around him. “Why didn’t you go for help! Now we’re both stuck down here! Al!”

She grinned, teeth glinting in the light of her headlamp, but her eyes stayed forward. “Aw, but I care about you. Aren’t you flattered I came after you? You just matter so much.”

He stared at her. Al might’ve disdained the counselors, and knew nothing but fight with authority figures, but she wasn’t ever mean to her peers. Not to him. They . . . they were friends. And she was smart, smarter and faster than any other kid at camp. Had Toby fallen down the crevice, she would’ve gone for help. This wasn’t like her. None of this made sense.

“Where are we going?” he said, alarmed, as he realized they were going. “Al, the Teeth are back there!” He struggled to turn around, get her arm off of him, but her grip was strong, and she kept pulling him forward.

“While we’re down here, we might as well explore,” she purred. Her light, playful voice didn’t match the rest of her at all—not the quick, urgent stride of her long legs, nor the strange, feverish light shining in her eyes. Her entire body buzzed with tension, reminding Toby of a cat crouched in the grass, one pounce away from a kill.

“Al, I want to go back. Please.” His voice trembled on the last word, and Toby was suddenly aware he was close to tears. He could barely stand, let alone walk, his head wanted to explode, and his stomach was still twisted in knots. “I’m done with this cave, done with Jack—”

“Not yet you aren’t,” she murmured, more to herself than him, and came to a stop. Abruptly Toby realized they’d come to a dead end, a bare wall of nearly straight stone before them. It was a paler gray than before, with veins and patches of smoky white throughout it, and it looked oddly smooth, not natural at all.

Al let go of him, and Toby slumped to the ground. All he wanted was to curl up and let the pain take over, but he forced himself to watch as Al walked up and placed a hand against the stone, lightly, skin just barely touching. “ ‘Bury a child of Veranas under ashes and starfall to unlock the gate,’ ” she mused to the rock, “ ‘and unworldly treasures shall be yours.’ ”

Toby jolted at the name of his grandmother. His pain dimmed, only to make room for the fear. “Who are you?” he whispered, trembling. “What do you want with me?” Al turned to him with a smile sharp with delight, and suddenly Toby remembered the moment before he’d fallen down Traitor’s Teeth.

Al had pushed him.

He shrunk away as she approached him, and cried out when she grabbed him, but she ignored his kicks and flails as she dragged him up to the stone wall.

“Stop,” he begged, hitting at her side with his hand. “Please, don’t.” One strike must’ve hit harder than the rest, because she grunted, then adjusted her grip to twist his arm sharply behind his back. He cried out, and could only struggle feebly as she forced him up close.

“Hey, be glad I don’t have to use the knife,” she told him. One hand still twisting his arm, she used the other to grab his neck and press the bleeding side of his head, where the fall had cut him, against the rock. “Let’s see if this works,” she said cheerfully, and from the corner of his eye, he saw her bend down to look at his wristwatch. “Two fifty-eight in four. Three. Two. One—”

Fire lit up the side of Toby’s face, a pain sharper and crueler than the rest of his strains and aches combined. He screamed, but didn’t hear it, as his jaw dislocated and his back arched and his whole body began to hum—

Before finally, blissfully, he returned to the black.

~~~~

Lani emerged from Spruce Fire Cave a short time later, a little dustier than she’d started, with a bit of blood staining the collar of her t-shirt, but triumphant. With her headlamp turned off, she looked around the entrance of the cave, then used a tree as a handhold and clambered up the cliff face a ways to reach her brother, sitting on a ledge and watching meteors streak down from the heavens in fiery ecstasy.

“Heyo, Jack,” she hallooed, plunking down beside him.

He rolled his eyes. “Is he okay?”

She rolled her eyes back. “Your boyfriend’s fine. They’ll find him in the morning or never.”

“He’s not—” Jerry cut himself off with a frustrated puff of air, taking a moment to calm himself before continuing in a carefully not-angry tone, “Did you get it?”

Lani fished around in her pocket, pulled out a snail shell, and tossed it to him. Jerry caught it by the fingertips, preventing it from sailing down the mountainside, and threw her a resentful glance. She smiled back, and he exhaled again before turning the shell around in his fingers to examine it by starlight.

“What’s it do?”

She snorted. “It’s a snail shell, Jerry. Snails, uh, live in them.”

His head jerked to her. “This isn’t it? All of this was for nothing?”

She flapped her hand at him. “Calm down, poltergeist. That’s just a neat shell I found in the cave. Curious that a snail found its way all the way down there, you know? I wonder if there’s a species on this ’scape that—”

“Lani,” Jerry cut in, teeth grit. “Did. You. Get. The. Information. Or not.”

She shrugged. “Yeah. There was a skeleton beyond the wall, pale bleached old thing. I sprinkled some of Veranas’ blood on it and it woke right up, chattered away at me about curses, fates, damnation of the world and the failure of my line and all that, then got to the good stuff. Well, I had to threaten to break its ribs with my boot first, and then it agreed to answer my questions, i.e., the good stuff.”

“And?”

“He was here,” she said simply. “We’re on the right trail.”

Jerry let out a long breath, leaning back to settle against the rocks. He stared blankly at the sky. “I was right.”

“Yep.”

They sat quietly for a while, watching the meteor shower. Or, maybe Jerry was. Lani didn’t bother. She tapped her chin after a minute or two. “Although.”

Silently, Jerry turned his head and looked at her. When she said no more, he raised his eyebrows. “Although?”

She lifted her eyebrows back at him. “Someone was here before us. Path was ruined.”

Jerry groaned, hunching over and dragging his hands down his face.

“Crevice got bigger,” Lani continued in a conversational tone. “And the grain of the gate was swirled in a different pattern this time. Skeleton didn’t mention it, but it was hiding a lot. Or it’s not advanced enough to remember anything more than what’s already been programmed. But this, plus what happened to your shoelaces . . .”

“They’ve caught up with us again,” Jerry growled, face still in his hands. “I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them. All of them, I swear.” He repeated that a few times in a dark mutter to himself, along with a few other threats no more creative.

Lani didn’t bother listening to that, either. She was thinking. Her brain was doing that all the time, even without her sometimes, no matter what her brother or other spectators might say in regards to her actions, but now she focused her thoughts solely on this one question, this one puzzle and game. Regular hunters would have attacked them already by now, laid a trap in the cave, probably. Or an ambush on one of the trails. Maybe even a blatant slaughter of the camp—not to cover up their tracks, but as a warning, an example made to their subjects of what happened to those who attempted escape.

But we did escape, she reminded herself. They had to be careful now, not to let them get away forever. A weakness she could exploit.

But that wasn’t the puzzle here. Part of it, but a mere digression from the true question. Whoever had been at the gate had not been their hunters, not the regular ones at least. The signatures didn’t match. So. The question. The puzzle and the game.

Who had it been?

#my writing #Lani & Jerry #in which: lani does a little blood sacrifice #woe to me in transferring these pieces of writing to tumblr from google docs #i have to go through and reformat all the itatlics

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rosesvioletshardy · 4 years

Text

life as we know it - b.h. - chapter 7

i originally planned on this chapter posting yesterday but i got caught up watching avatar the last airbender on netflix again so it ended up a little late. this chapter is also a little heavy on some subjects so if it bothers you please skip it. i tried not to put it too much seeing that it also made me a little uncomfortable so i hope it doesn’t bother y’all too much.

masterlist

summary: when their two best friends die, it’s up to ben and y/n to take care of their goddaughter and face the challenges that come with it.

# of words: 3,427 (about)

warnings: talks of poop, mentions of vomiting, anxiety / panic attacks, fluff

taglist: @myfatbottomedgirls , @evemarie05, @suckerfor-fanfics

(message or inbox me if you want to added to the taglist for this fanfic)

---

(basically what ben wore to the guardianship hearing)

late may 2017 (charlie is 8 months)

ben was the first to awake, seeing that he couldn’t sleep anymore and decided he needed to go for a run after not having been on one for a while and took frankie with him. when he left, the sound of the door closing woke y/n up. getting out of the bed, she went to charlie’s room and found her already awake. after changing her diaper and clothes, they went downstairs to fix breakfast like they do every morning from now on

“okay charlie girl what do you want today? avocado and peas or oatmeal?”

y/n didn’t get an answer but charlie just hitting her teething ring on the table of her high chair and babbled. charlie still hadn’t said her first word or started to walk and they feared that they hadn't been encouraging it enough to say her first words.

“okay you’ll have the oatmeal today and avocado tomorrow. deal?”

she had managed to feed both her and charlie and get breakfast ready for ben and frankie for when they came back. during the extra time she had, she put on some music and started to sing and dance along. picking charlie up from her and started to dance around causing her to giggle and squeal. ben came back from his run walking into the kitchen and seeing charlie and y/n dancing while she sang along before she turned around and saw ben recording her and laughing. when the song ended, y/n put charlie back into her high chair and ben went upstairs to shower and get ready.

ben was about to leave for a meeting with his agent about a new movie after finishing breakfast and give charlie to y/n after having her on his lap, when he stopped dead in his tracks when he felt something heavy in charlie’s diaper and smelt something bad.

“do you smell that?”

“smell what?” y/n asked him as she dried her hands off

“her. do you smell that smell coming off her?”

“oh maybe she pooped! she didn’t do it overnight or anything and i changed her diaper this morning but i didn’t think she would do it that quick.”

ben lifted her up to check to see and immediately regretted his thoughts as he pushed charlie towards her and started to gag

“yeah she needs a change. oh my god. my eyes are starting to water so bad.”

“stop being a baby. c’mon let’s go” she said as they walked up the stairs to charlie’s room

ben laid her down on the changing table and took off her the pants she was wearing and unbuttoned the shirt.

“okay. go on, do the thing.” he gestured to her as she stood next to him covering her nose

“what? why me? because i’m the girl?”

“yeah.”

“well i can’t-”

“ben you need to learn how to do something with her besides play! i’ve changed her diaper so many times since we had her and bathed her as well.” she said before continuing

“get in there. go ahead.”

“okay, fine. You know what? easy. if i can act, then i can do this. It’s not that -”

“it’s something you can check off your checklist. Check” y/n said as she did a check notion in the air

“what are you doing?”

“i don’t know what i’m doing. it’s not a bra that i’m taking off a girl. It’s a diaper that i’m taking off a baby, okay? is there a box of instructions?”

“it’s not rocket science. just take the tabs off.”

“see those little tabs? just undo them.”

as ben undid the tabs and pulled the diaper away, both him and y/n were hit with a big surprise from charlie causing them to start gagging while she just laid there and giggled

“don’t do that! you’re going to make me vomit!”

“it’s like slumdog millionaire in there.”

“you’re going to make me throw up”

“she didn’t eat enough to even produce that! she had like two pieces of those cracker things-” ben started to yell as she started to hit him

“she’s getting it in her toes!”

“okay, okay, okay! give me those wipes! give me more” ben stated as she kept handing him wipes

“what, it’s like a poop suit.” ben started to say as they heard the doorbell ring making him run to go get it

“ben!? don’t leave me here!” y/n yelled

as ben ran down the stairs, their neighbors were arguing before the door opened

“i’m getting the feeling this is some kind of reconnaissance mission.” zachary, rachel’s husband said

“no one else is thinking this.” rachel said before ben quickly opened the door

“oh, hi!!” they all said

“Hey”

“we’re just, you know...here comes the street”

“what’s going on?” ben asked

“just uh, you know, bringing you some dishes, and whatnot. new parents have to stock the fridge. one, two, three. just because” rachel said laughing

ben knew exactly what they wanted which was them wanting to come inside. he gave in and told them to come in. this made him remember that he a meeting to go to and according to his agent it could be a big one

“come on it.” he said moving out of the way

“oh how unexpected! hope it’s not bad time” amber said

“if you could all excuse me for just one minute while i make a phone call” ben politely said

ben left the room and went upstairs to find y/n cleaning up charlie and put her in a new onesie

“hey, the neighborhood watch is here. they brought us some-” ben said with his phone against his ear waiting for his agent to pick up stopping as soon as he saw her and pointed

she turned around for ben to find some of charlie’s poop on her cheek

“what? she’s perfect. no thanks to you. big coward” she said

ben tried to warn her about the shit on her face before talking to his agent and they walked down the stairs. ben giggled with charlie before following her down to where everyone was

“auntie y/n is in for a big surprise” ben giggled to charlie

y/n walked down the stairs to find a few of the neighbors that were at the funeral and reception there holding containers filled with food. when she reached the bottom, everyone cheered until what they saw on her face

“oh”

“what?” she asked confused as to why everyone was looking at her funny

“Well honey, you have shit on your face.” who she recognized as rachel said

y/n’s eyes bugged out of her face as she began to touch her face to find the poop on her right cheek while ben stood there smiling.

walking back upstairs, she passed the mirror as she looked and almost screamed

“fuck, fuck, fuck. that’s so gross! how did i not notice? how did that even happen?” she started to whisper yell

she quickly ran back to find one of the wipes and wipe the poop off her face causing her makeup to come off as well. she then ran back to the bathroom in a panicked state looking for her makeup to fix it. as she was putting another layer on, ben came into the bathroom telling to hurry up

“you got a little more. on the right.” ben started to say helping her

“just shut up. i swear”

“c’mon. the faster you finish, the faster we can get them out and i can go to the meeting. i only managed to get myself one more hour before i don’t get this. i’m just trying to help” ben said as she walked passed him and he laughed quietly to charlie

“well, if you stayed and helped this might not have happened” she stated as they walked down the stairs

when they walked down the stairs, they saw everything set up for breakfast that the neighbors had prepared. ben stopped in his tracks as he got a text saying it was his lucky day that the meeting got postponed to later in the evening as they got busy with a personal matter

y/n started to pour out coffee for all the adults as ben moved the playpen near them and put her inside it with a few of her toys

“are you guys doing okay with charlie? you look a little tired?”

“oh yeah, that would be the not sleeping.” ben said

“it doesn’t show at all” everyone started to agree

“you don’t look that tired.” mike told ben

“don’t worry, because you’re not gonna sleep for 10 years.” rachel told them

“and you’re not never gonna get used to the children’s music.” zachary said

“i don’t think any of us knew what we’re doing when we become new parents” amber told them

“we had nine months to get ready and we still screw up about half the time”

“do you know what? i’m gonna get real serious. you have to get two things straight and i’m going to say: 1. get a sitter,” rachel started

“and a backup”

“absolutely”

“Number 2: you can never have enough paper towels” rachel finished

“when you shop at the shop now. they’re always out of milk and they don’t carry the unscented wipes” robert said

“that is true.” tom, robert’s husband agreed

“when you order motrin, or buy it, make sure you get the dye free”

“No BPAs. sippy cups, any plastics. you don’t want those chemicals”

everyone was hurling all this information on what to do and what to get to the point where y/n ran out of the room and straight to the bathroom to throw up from her anxiety. all the adults stopped talking and stared at her before turning to ben who followed her straight to the bathroom. softly knocking at the door, he entered to find her leaning against the tub, breathing heavily

“hey you alright?” ben asked

“i would say yeah, but then i’d just be lying to the both of us.” she told him

“what happened? what’s wrong?”

“nothing. i guess being a parent is more than we thought of and i think all the stress and nervousness from them talking about what wipes to get or what cups she should be using just got to me.”

“well you’re not alone on this. you got me too. same with jack and melissa, we can always ask my mum, there’s articles online. there’s a bunch of different resources to use. we don’t have to exactly listen to them, there are other sources.” he told her as she threw up again, holding her hair in a makeshift ponytail

“i guess.”

“now, we have people to entertain and finish talking to because the sooner that happens, the sooner we can go back to being alone and going to work or whatever.” ben told her getting up and offering her a hand

“you’re right. i hate it when you’re right.” she said as she began to wash her mouth out

“no i think you love it when i’m right.” he said in a cocky tone as they went back downstairs

charlie was now sitting in amber’s lap as they played with one of her toys while the other adults talked

“hey, how you feeling? what happened?”

“are you okay? are you pregnant?”

questions were being hurled at her like the comments before but y/n had managed to keep the vomit down this time

“i’m fine and no, i'm not pregnant. hopefully not for a while. most likely was from last night's dinner, maybe something bad.”

“that’s good. hope you feel better. well, i think it’s time for us to leave. we all have work, and i know you both do too.” amber said handing back charlie to y/n

“thank you for coming. the food was delicious.” she tells them as they all head for the door

they all said their goodbyes and ben and y/n have never felt so tired in the morning like this. they were somewhat used to this now due to charlie teething at the moment so there are times in the middle of the night where they wake up to help her soothe her gums. ben went to go take charlie upstairs for her nap while she decided to check her phone while finishing getting ready after cleaning the table and putting the leftover breakfast in the fridge and dishes in the dishwasher. as she scrolled through the news, she saw a rather interesting article about ben from The Daily Mail, which she has learned to hate. when she clicked on it, she started to choke on her coffee when she read the headline. after pulling herself together, she reread the headline to make sure it was right,

“eastenders actor ben hardy with a secret girlfriend and baby strolling london?”

she took a deep breath and pressed on the article to read it knowing that it won’t be the best idea

“Earlier this week, former EastEnders actor Ben Hardy was caught strolling in London for lunch with bakery owner y/n l/n, their dog, and their child. it is unknown whether or not how long they have been together. They were seen by a source going into l/n’s bakery, Eats ‘n’ Treats for lunch and stayed there for a couple of hours before leaving and taking a small stroll around Hyde Park. A month ago, Hardy and L/N’s friends were killed in a car incident. Hardy recently starred in an episode of “Drunk History” where he played King Arthur and as Archangel in the Marvel movie “X-Men: Apocalypse.”

ben walked back down to see y/n clutching her phone to the point where if she had any more strength, it would break. her face was pale too, eyes bugging out. he went to her to see what was wrong where all she could do was hand her phone to ben. he seemed confused at first before he read what she was reading. he had never liked gossip sites, no matter what they were or who. he sat down next to her and they thought about how they could tell people the truth about their situation. he looked at her and without even having to open their mouths, she nodded knowing it would be the right thing to do. ben got out his phone and opened Instagram and picked out a photo of him, y/n, and charlie all together from when she was first born. he spent a few minutes on the caption and making sure there weren’t any mistakes, and posted the picture. the two didn’t say another word and he watched her as she left for work. ben was pretty sure that his agent was going to be bringing it up at the meeting later in the evening.

ben hadn’t looked at his phone all day or called her. she hadn't done the same either. tyler had tried to talk to her about it but he knew she didn’t want to and respected his friends' choices. her shop became more crowded than usual after the article, specifically fans of ben. she decided it would be best for her to go into her office to work and be in the back until the shop closed. ben had stayed home with charlie and cleaned up around the house and cooked dinner or at least tried to. he wanted to apologize for dragging her and charlie into the mess he calls his life as an actor and wanted to at least make up for it. the one thing he didn’t think of was what would sean think of the article. he couldn’t believe that he would be that dense to believe anything a gossip article would say.

y/n had managed to arrive back home a few minutes later than usual and entered to see the table set up with dinner and candles lit up. she dropped her bag off at the couch and took her heels off and walked into the kitchen to find ben pouring some wine. white, this time so nothing would happen like what would happen when she drank red.

“why did you do this?” she asked him

“i wanted to apologize to everything that has happened recently. Specifically what we read this morning from the tabloids. i tried using a cookbook to follow everything to the point where i think i just ended up guessing on everything. hopefully i won’t try to poison us and i hope it doesn't.” ben said all in one breath

all she could do was let out a small laugh and go to one side of the table admiring the food he made. it didn’t look bad and it didn’t smell bad either. “he really outdid himself, huh?” she thought

ben walked over to her and placed the glass of wine in front of her and pulled out her chair for her to sit. she kindly did so and watched as he went to sit next to her. she began to have this feeling in her stomach. a feeling she used to have with sean when they first began to date but not as much anymore. y/n quickly shook her thoughts away and watched as he began to put some of the spaghetti carbonara on her plate. the two ate in silence before she spoke up.

“it’s really good. but why did you do this? an apology would’ve just been enough.”

“yes, but i know you’ve been working more hard on everything the past couple months that i felt like you deserve something better. i know we have our ups and downs but-” ben started to say until his phone ringing interrupted him

“answer it. it sounds important.” she told him as she saw that the contact name was his agent

ben gave her a small, sorry, smile before leaving the room. y/n tried to finish the rest of her food but she had too much going on in her mind before snapping out of her thoughts when ben came back in.

“i’m really sorry i have to do this but i have a meeting to go to. it’s something about a new movie and they want to talk to me about it before getting me an audition in a couple of months.” ben said with a sorrowful look on his already feeling more guilty

“no, ben it’s fine. you’re getting bigger and i couldn’t be more proud. just go, i’ll clean up. the food was great though. thank you.” she told him standing up

“are you-”

“yes. ben i’m sure. now go. i don’t want you to miss out on a big opportunity like this.”

ben gave her a small smile apologizing again before putting his shoes on and walking out the door and glanced over his shoulder, back at her to find her putting the dishes in the sink and the food in a tupperware. he closed the door and headed towards his car to go to his agent's house. when she was done with the rest of the dishes, she drank the rest of her glass of wine and went to check on charlie seeing that she hadn't seen her since the morning.

upon entering her room, frankie quickly got up to see who the intruder was. after smelling the scent of the person and knowing who it was, she went back to her spot near charlie’s crib. y/n walked over to find her peacefully sleeping and lightly brushing the frame of her face. she looked at her for a few more minutes before looking around the room and seeing the picture of christian and lennon. picking it up, she held the picture close to her for a few minutes before setting it back down and heading back downstairs. she tried to watch some TV to distract herself but there wasn’t anything good for her so she just left it on with the volume on low and found herself slowly falling asleep on the couch.

when ben came back home, it was late, almost 12 am. he quietly closed and locked the door before hearing noises coming from the living room and realizing it was the tv. he walked over to turn it off before he saw y/n asleep on the couch. he turned the show off and went over to her and softly picked her up to take her to her to her room. closing the door, he went to change out of his clothes and got ready for bed himself.

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barnesandrogersfanfics · 4 years

Text

Home - Part 15

A/N: So here’s the next part, reading everyones reactions to the last chapter made me wanna finish this part sooner for you all. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read my crazy ramblings! ILY 💕

Warnings: Some violence and swearing! Nothing too graphic.

"I traced the call and it came from within the house!!"

"W..what???...." i asked shakily, my heart racing so fast hearing those words from Sam.

"Y/N, Jack is in there somewhere, you need to get out now! Im on my way to you but I'm at least 10 minutes out. Stay on the line with me sweetheart okay"

"Okay....." i said quietly, as i went to grab my car keys from my purse i heard a loud thump from upstairs "shit Sam his upstairs!!" I grabbed my purse and made a run for the front door, i punched in the alarm code and flipped the lock open, i had the door halfway open when i felt the force of a body slam into me, i hit the door face first making the door close again as my phone dropped to the floor. I let out a scream as i struggled to escape Jacks grasp, he covered my mouth with his hand to shut me up before i drew any unwanted attention.

"Sshhhhh" he mumbled in my ear with a sinister grin on his face, tears were rolling down my face as i continued to struggle "stop fighting me your just gonna hurt yourself" he cooed lovingly like he wasn't currently attacking me!

I managed to bite down hard on his fingers that covered my mouth, he yelled and let go of me for a split second but it was long enough that i could slip away from him. I ran back towards the living room knowing that i needed to get to the kitchen to try and escape out the backdoor.... or at least get a knife from the kitchen. But i didn't get far, he dived at me knocking me into the side table next to the sofa, a table lamp and some mail scattering to the floor. In the struggle i ended up landing hard on the floor with Jack climbing on top of me trying to restrain me, he hit me hard in the face stunning me for a few seconds.... my hand blindly reached out for anything i could use to hurt him, just long enough for me to escape. My hand found the fallen lamp and i wrapped my fingers around the base picking it up and bringing it down hard over his head. The ceramic base exploded into bits on impact, Jacks eyes rolled back in his head slightly as his body went sluggish and limp on top of me, i shoved him away hard and crawled out from under him making a run to the kitchen.

"Y/N!!" He yelled loudly and i could hear his stomping footsteps coming towards me again "your making this so much harder than it needs to be baby"

I managed to get the back door open and bolted across the yard, just before i got to gate he tackled me to the floor. He straddled my hips with one hand holding my arms in place above my head while the other wrapped around my throat. I kicked my legs and tried to flip him off but it was no use, he was overpowering me, barely moving from my efforts to get away from him.

"This is where you belong baby.... with me. We can be happy again...."

"Fuck you, you psycho!" I said through gritted teeth.

"Oh we can play that game if you want baby.... i have missed being inside you"

He smiled as his hand from my throat started to trail downwards "have you missed me too? Bet your new guy ain't half as good as i am"

"His more than you will ever be! His twice the man you could even dream to be Jack"

"You'll never see him again" his snapped as his hand wrapped around my throat again, squeezing, cutting off my airways. Just as everything started to go black Jack's weight was gone and i was gasping for air. My head lulled to one side and all i saw was Bucky punching Jack over and over and over.

"Buck! Stop.... your going to kill him!" I tried to say panicking that Bucky would end up going to jail for killing my piece of shit ex husband.

"Y/N!!!...." i heard Steve and Sams yells coming from the house before they came running outside. Sam was quick to pull Bucky away while Steve was at my side pulling me into his arms.

"Your okay sweetheart, we got you" he was saying as he held me close.

"Y/N.... baby are you okay?" Bucky was suddenly pulling me from Steve and into his arms. I nodded and cried as i clung to Bucky "Bucky i was so scared...."

"I know doll but i got you now, dont you worry"

"She needs to go to the hospital and get checked out, that head wound looks pretty nasty" Sam said in police officer mode, i heard a muffled groan from Jack and sighed in relief that he wasn't dead! Sam stood up and gave him a snide kick to the ribs "shut the hell up" he groaned looking down at Jack shaking his head "you brought this on yourself".

After being checked over by the doctor and having some tests done i was given the all clear, most of my injuries were scrapes from falling into the table and struggling against Jack and bruises to my throat as well as a swollen eye and a split lip. Nothing was broken so they released me on the condition that Bucky stayed with me for 48 hours incase i had a concussion.

"Im not leaving her side dont worry" he had said gripping my hand tight.

Sam had asked that we meet him at the house and give a statement, he wanted to know exactly what had happened. There was no way Jack was getting away with it.

I walked them through everything that happened from the moment Sam called me warning me Jack was in the house.

"When you were on the phone to me you said he was upstairs?"

"Yeah, i heard a loud thump like he dropped something pretty heavy" i nodded, i had actually forgotten about that until Sam mentioned it.

"Can we go upstairs and you can see if anything looks outta place?"

"You can stay down here doll, i can go look" Bucky said stroking his hand up and down my arm.

"No its okay, lets go".

Surprisingly everything looked untouched there was nothing out of place. From where i had heard the thump above the living room meant it was in the bedroom so we spent longer in there checking everything.

"I dont understand what could have made that noise...." i started to say but then my eyes fell on the closet door that was open slightly, we always made sure to keep it closed after Rosie got herself stuck in there a couple weeks ago. I walked over and pushed open the door fully, it was then i noticed an open loft hatch in the ceiling..... i hadn't even known it was there!!

"Son of a bitch!" Bucky mumbled stepping closer and looking up at the open hatch "his been in the attic??"

"Jesus christ...." Sam grumbled snapping photos on his phone "how the hell did he even get up there??"

"The main hatch in the hallway has a ladder, we've never even used the attic"

"Lets go take a look".

I followed Bucky and Sam into the attic, i needed to see for myself. We walked over to where the open hatch in the bedroom was and found a sleeping bag and empty food cartons laying around.

"Oh my god Buck, how long has he been up here??" I asked covering my mouth with my hand.

"Too fucking long!..... what the...." Bucky trailed off as he knelt down next to the sleeping bag and started prodding around on the floor.

"What is it?" Sam asked joining him.

"His been watching us"

"What?!! What do you mean his been watching us Bucky!!"

"There's a hole here that overlooks the bed" he shook his head disgust clear on his face "that sick fuck".

Thats when it made sense, when Jack called the other night and said i looked tired.... he had been watching me!!

"I think i'm gonna be sick" i mumbled before rushing for the ladder. I just made it in time to the bathroom before emptying my stomach.

"Doll are you okay?" Bucky asked walking in as i stood at the sink gargling some mouth wash.

"Far from it Buck, how did we not see it? What has he seen?!!"

"He was clever about it, the hole was on the edge of the light fitting so we wouldn't have noticed. We found one in the bathroom too"

"I cant stay here anymore Bucky I'm sorry..... can we go to the farm house. Please?" I begged him throwing my arms around his shoulders "just get me away from here, i feel like his eyes are on me"

"Sure, let me grab some clothes real quick. Steve has got the girls at his place for the night so we dont need to worry about their things just yet. Lets just get you out of here".

Home taglist: @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @lumar014

@bbmommy0902 @past-perfect-future-tense @heathens-takeitsl0w @captainchrisstan @ladymelissastark @93generation @sebastianstansqueen @oceansxpurple @Imjstaghoststory @rainbowkisses31 @superavengerpotterstar @cap-just-said-language @booktease21 @ms-betsy-fangirl @wildest-dream- @michelehansel @thummbelina @abbylizy @sweetlittlegingy @lorabem @barnesandrogersworld @dumblani @broco8 @xxloki81xx @keithseabrook27 @jesseswartzwelder @saiyanprincessswanie

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastianstan #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan #chris evans #home #reader insert #steve rogers

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hank-mcdankblade · 4 years

Text

I Know A Bottom When I See One Princess (Part 3)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary

Chapter 1: You and Dean have been pals for as long as you can remember, practically raised together. Are things still the same as you remembered when you reconnect with him after a couple years apart? Well there is one thing you see differently and you’re about to call him out on it.

Chapter 2: After you flirt back with Dean you start to rethink all of your life choices. Why did you flirt back instead of making fun of him? God it would be so much easier if you were just a genderless blob. Hopefully the new supernatural case a friend of your mom’s gives you will distract you from all this romance mumbo jumbo.

Chapter 3: You and Dean both start to realize your feelings are not what you both originally anticipated them to be. If only you two could actually talk like adults instead of bantering like childish 8 year olds. The case picks up when you see a certain someone’s name over every case, a certain boomer’s name.

Chapter 4: You and Dean do some sleuthing into Chrissy’s apparent death. After learning the truth your trip to Wendy’s/Jack in the Box gets interrupted by Chief douchebag. Rick takes the three of you on a nice drive to the mountains to introduce you to his daughter.

Word Count: 5,041

Warnings: Many, Many swear, Dean being a little shit, pg-13 thoughts from a certain green eyed hunter.

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The car was quiet. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you were the cause of it. You reminded yourself that there were a million other reasons as to why the drive was silent. Hell there were hours spent in this car with nothing but the sound of guitars and dig of the tire against the road as background noise. All you needed was each other’s company and nothing more. The rational part of your mind was scolding you to shut the hell up about it and stop worrying, pointing out multiple pieces of evidence disproving your original theory. Meanwhile your much less rational side disagreed. She was a bit of a dumb bitch, but very persuasive. It was practically her superpower to ignore all the facts and blindly believe in her opinions.

“Hey, sorry about springing the whole relationship thing on you. Just thought it’d be easier to fly under the radar as a couple….” You clenched your hands and wrung them together. Your eyes glanced at Dean to your left, quietly gauging his reaction.

“Don’t apologize, it’s ok. It was quick thinking. And who knows how suspicious detective douche would’ve been if you hadn’t.” Dean only took his eyes off the road for a moment to look over at you, lying through his damn teeth.

“True…guess Jen was right about the cops being jumpy here.” Finally, with that off your conscience you could relax into the leather seats with ease. Things were fine. You were just putting way too much thought into this flirting with Dean thing. It was just how your relationship with him was and everything was ok.

You were fairing much better than Dean though. Dean’s grip on the steering wheel could be described as vice-like. The insides of his fingertips could feel the stitches in the fabric of the wheel. It felt like he had cotton shoved into his head, there was only one thing consuming his thoughts. Was he really interested in having you the way you spoke of the other night? Bent over and vulnerable while you took advantage of him? Thank god that his right foot was preoccupied with the gas pedal or his entire leg would be bouncing.

To you his face looked stoic, and void of emotion. Dean’s eyes were painted with a foggy filter. Mentally he was miles away from the Impala. Every couple of minutes or so he would come back and hyper focus on a different part of the reality in front of him. Dean sometimes focused on the way his joints bent or how his skin felt, and other times focused on how you were too close to him and too far away at the same time. Dean’s hand was shaking, aching to have it on your leg, give you a good squeeze or anything just something to feel you and your skin on him. He wanted to feel your firm grip on him, on his legs, his hands, around his throat. He wanted so badly for your hips to be driving his into the mattress, coming up and down bouncing on his cock until he came closer and closer…

“Ready to head in and get some info.?” Your delicate voice slowly reintroduced him to the present. Dean looked in front of him and saw a beige building that looked like it was built in the 60s and was never remodeled since. The black letters on the brick wall by the front door read, ‘Grand Mesa County Libraries Central Library.’ His body was slowly returning to its normal temperature as he stepped out of the car.

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Getting back on track Dean prepared himself for the first step in every hunting trip you two took, do some re-con and get info about the case. He was gonna have to put his thoughts of you on the back burner for now, which was easier said than done. Once you passed the threshold, the smell of old carpet and moth balls slapped you in the face. It was a nostalgic potent smell that reminded you of your kindergarten years and would haunt you for the rest of your life. Looking around, the place did not seem too busy. There were a few people scattered across the building casually mulling through books and movies to check out.

“Wanna check the newspapers and I’ll look into local lore?” You two nodded to each other and went your separate ways diving deep into yellowed paper and books with broken spines. Soon enough you could no longer hear the soft thumps of Dean’s boots.

After scanning the isles you checked out a couple books and started a nest by the computers. The first thing you knew you had to check out was the case at hand. You tapped away at the very out of date computer keyboard.

Disappearances Grand Mesa National Forest

There were about a thousand hits online for disappearances. The hard part would be finding information from a reliable source. The first few minutes into researching changed your posture as your spine straightened up and mind shifted into its case-mode. Everything in the world went blurry except for the books and screen in front of you.

~~~~

‘Newspapers…newspapers.’ Dean’s fingertips brushed over the tops of age softened newspapers. Once you spend months in different libraries you tend to pick up what their usual lay out was, so the newspapers were an easy find. Thankfully instead of having to search through the records by hand, this library had a computer to search key words in to find articles. If Dean ever went to hell, he was sure that being forced to dig through newspapers by hand would be his torture.

‘Newly-Wed couple from Illinois vanished without a trace. Last seen in Grand Mesa National Forest.’

‘Scouts No Longer Holding Summer Camp in Grand Mesa National Forest After Four Scouts Lost to the Curse.’

‘The Grand Mesa Curse strikes again with the disappearance of a family of three.’

Seeing the pictures from the crime scenes made things real. Of course Dean knew the hidden reality that the supernatural world truly was, but sometimes it was easy to forget. It was easy to forget that there was true evil in this world, that there was evil more than just a greedy billionaire or corrupt politician, but pure evil that only sought to drag as many souls to hell as possible. There were so many families that had their loved ones ripped from them without a reason, completely unknowing of the darkness that lurked so closely to them. They would be driven mad with the lack of ‘logical’ facts in their eyes, cursed to never know what really happened and given answers that felt bitter to the taste. Others had their eyes opened unwillingly, shown what was behind the curtain before they could even sputter out an answer. Dean wondered what he would’ve chosen had he been given the choice. Would he rather know what killed his mother and spent his life fearing those that hid behind human faces? Or would he rather go on with his normal apple pie life never finding closure in the death of his mother? Neither option had more pros or cons than the other. He could spend a lifetime mulling the answer over and never find one that felt fight.

“Excuse me, are you looking for something in specific? You look a little lost…” Dean turned his attention upwards and saw a young librarian. She looked like she was probably a couple years older than him, a native here for sure.

“Huh?” Dean blinked a few times before really processing what she said to him while he was on autopilot. “Oh, no. I’m alright but thanks.” Dean offered her a smile before going back to flipping through the stacks of old newspapers.

The librarian nodded before looking at what headlines he was choosing. She raised a brow as assumptions about who this mysterious man was filled her head. “Interested in the Grand Mesa Curse huh?” Now there was something useful that he needed.

“Uh…yeah. Somethin’ like that. Know anything about it?” Dean leaned his arms on the newspaper stand. Any info you two could get would make this whole operation go smoother.

The woman let out a short breath of a laugh and shook her head. “It’d be impossible to live around here and not know about it. Around this time of year nobody really goes up into those woods, and especially near the mine shafts.” She paused for a beat and then continued. “My name’s Shan by the way.” Shan looked at Dean with an eagerness in her eyes. The gesture fell on deaf ears and Dean simply smiled back at her.

“Dean.” He held out his hand to hers, and gave her a firm shake. “Well, I’ve got all I need for now.”

“Feel free to call me if you need anything.”

“Will do, thanks.” What a nice lady.

~~~~

After collecting a handful of articles from different newspapers, Dean headed back to you ready to get down to business. You were hunched over a loud keyboard like a goblin, typing away all the notes you were compiling for future use. There were probably about 15 tabs open on one browser and 17 pages from various books that had been dog eared. From the looks of it, Dean could tell you were already on a roll. Not wanting to disturb you, he silently pulled out a chair next to you and started to flip through and score the articles he had.

About an hour later you two felt confident enough in your information to start piecing something together.

“Hey.” An unfamiliar voice interrupted your work process forcing you out of your thought bubble. When you looked up you saw what you assumed was a librarian who worked here looking right at Dean with some form of recognition lighting up her features. “Thought I’d check in to see how you were doing with the Grand Mesa Curse.” There was something in the tone of this girl’s voice that really put you off. Instinctively you tried not to reveal your true thoughts with your facial expressions. There was nothing on her, or within her, that was tripping up your Slayer signal, so she definitely was not a monster. Regardless, something was feeling weird as you looked between the two of them.

“Pretty good actually, just getting some basic information.” The two of them chatted for a bit before the girl eventually left to actually do her job. Ok there was a possibility that you were being harsh, but this girl was interrupting your research session so regardless she’s being a bother. Human or not.

Ok…

Deep breath….

You took a moment to restart yourself in a sense. She was human, and she wasn’t even at your table for too long so why were you so on edge around her?

Next to you, Dean felt something in the air shift and looked over to you. Your eyes were still glued to the computer screen but your vibe felt different, more ridged, and that worried him. Still looking at you, Dean nudged you with his elbow.

“Hmm?” You hummed, still focused on your research.

“You ok? You seem…upset.” Damn him for knowing you so well. Hunting together had given him the skill to pick up on all your tells. You didn’t know whether this was a blessing or a curse.

“What? No I’m ok.” You spared him a moment of your attention before returning to work. Dean slowly narrowed his eyes at you. The slightly higher pitched bubbly-ness in your voice was not genuine. You were lying, but he wasn’t going to press you on it in such a public place.

The moments drew longer and blurred together as you two eventually got back into the swing of things, but there was something that caught your attention as the hour flew by. It happened every fifteen or so minutes when you would catch a glimpse of that girl that talked to Dean. She would linger by the book stands and rearrange the books there, giving herself an excuse to look at Dean while she ‘worked.’ With each time she stalked near, her act became less and less convincing and it was starting to tick you off. You had work to do and she couldn’t take the hint with the piles of books you two had. Not to mention how little Dean seemed to pay attention to her advances. If she was a monster, she was a very poor one at that, but if she was a human then you had an idea of what she was after. Either option made you want to pull Dean’s chair closer to you, look over his shoulder to see what he was working on even though you already knew. A burning feeling started to ignite with every trip she made past your table.

Annoying woman aside, you two had found some important information. The history of the Grand Mesa National Forest was pretty plain. The forest was created by President Benjamin Harrison in 1892. No amount of digging brought up any supernatural affiliation. No massacres of any kind, no Native American burials, and no cults made that forest their home either. So this meant no large scale hauntings, which honestly relieved you. This narrowed the field down. Looking over articles from books and online and newspapers brought to light what was commonly known here as the “Grand Mesa Curse.”

It started about two decades ago when a group of college kids traveled up into the mountains for Christmas break. According to their parents they only planned on staying for a couple of days. Things took a turn for the worse when it had been three days after the kids were supposed to be home and no one heard from them. Entire search parties of police officers, family and friends, and many other volunteers combed the forest the best that they could. No bodies were found but their campsite was destroyed and barren. The press and police chalked this up to be the fault of the bears that roamed around, and the same was happening with the most recent case. Luckily this time around there was one girl who survived the attacks, Chrissy Hamilton.

There had been a couple cases before this particular one as well that dealt with bear attacks and missing people, but the thing that made it stand out was that the disappearances grew in number afterwards. They were all around the same time and similar location. Something that caught your eye immediately was that a girl from the group of college kids had the same last name as the sheriff you and Dean saw.

Lydia Sullivan, daughter of Rick Sullivan, went missing two decades ago and was never found. Her mother, Emily Sullivan, passed away soon after not being able to handle the death of her child. “Ok so if his daughter got merked, why is Sullivan Chief of Douchebags so lax with all these cases? You’d think he’d take his time.” Your tone of voice was low and gravely coming out slowly. That ass hole’s name was popping up everywhere. Rick Sullivan oversaw every single disappearance case in the Grand Mesa National Forest district since his daughter went missing. The man was seen as a determined father that wanted to keep Colorado’s kids safe. He may not have worked every case personally, but the records stated that he went over the paperwork and guided his officers.

“Maybe he’s luring kids into the forest? What purpose would he have to cover all of this up though if he wasn’t involved?” Dean leaned his forearm on the back of your chair to get a closer look at what you had.

“Doubt it, on all their suspect lists they show alibis too and his checks out. So that means that all of this is coincidental. He could be overseeing every case because he feels guilty for letting his daughter down?”

“Like a coping mechanism?” Dean sat back in his chair, eyes focused on a blank part of a wall as he tried to process everything.

You nodded. “Yeah, those things that normal people have.” You gave Dean a smirk knowing full well that both of your coping mechanisms included heavy amounts of alcohol and repression. Dean rolled his eyes at you with a smile that mirrored yours, remembering all the countless nights where you two would stay up far too late with a bottle of whiskey. Many times at the end of those nights the thoughts and pictures that kept you up at night would tumble out from your mouths. Subconsciously the space between you two would shrink, physically and emotionally. Dean could count on his left hand how many people he trusted and felt safe enough around to be vulnerable with. After all the shit you’d been through and years you’ve known each other, if he didn’t trust you he would never trust anyone.

“Hey, me again. Wanted to let you know that I found a couple of stragglers for the paper you two are putting together.” Jesus Christ this librarian really couldn’t see a moment when it was right in front of her could she? You had had enough of this girl’s talking. You thin string of will power snapped and opened up the lines from your direct thoughts to your mouth.

“Why are you here?” Your eyes narrowed. Dean was taken aback. He had seen you lose your temper before, but only on those who truly deserved it. I.E. bar assholes, clowns/mimes, and religious nuts trying to convert you. This wasn’t the usual anger he was used to seeing before you knocked someone out, it was a silent subtle kind that would creep up on you if you didn’t watch for the signals. He was seeing all of them in slow motion.

Your jaw was clenched, no doubt thinking of biting her head off if she didn’t scamper off back to the corner she came from. What was usually a smile was replaced with a thin line that showed no welcome. But the thing that scared him the most was your eyes, cold and distant. Those eyes had never been directed him, eyes void of compassion.

Shan flinched just the slightest, brows pulled together not expecting such a reaction. “Uh-um, I’m here to help. It’s kind of my job.” She bit back at the end of her sentence, though her stare was not nearly as intimidating as yours. When she talked to Dean earlier she assumed that the two of you were merely classmates or just friends, but she had a bad feeling that she barked up the wrong tree. Your aura seemed dangerous, like a crazy jealous girlfriend.

“It’s your job to creep around the patrons and watch them from afar while you pretend to do your job?” One brow was quirked as you leaned back with your knees open and arms crossed. The attitude you were throwing was one that would rival middle schoolers and mothers looking to talk to the manager. It was very out of character for you to be petty, it always made you feel sick afterwards.

Shan narrowed her eyes back, cheeks flushing a deep red. “Excuse me-”

“Listen sweetheart, my boyfriend and I have a lot of work to do and you’re being a bother. So how about you get back to your real job and stop making googly eyes at my partner huh?” Your bite was sharp as a knife, cutting deep into Shan’s emotions. She took one look at Dean, who was currently preoccupied with staring at you, and quickly scampered off. You shut your eyes and opened them with only one goal in mind. The faster you knew about this case, the faster you could get the hell out of this library.

Those thoughts that Dean were having to put on the back burner suddenly moved to the front. “So…..was she somehow endangering our hunt that you had to cover for us again?” The smug bastard was referencing what you did because of Detective Sullivan.

“Yes. She was endangering our efficiency.” Your fingertips flipped through a book closest to you, anything to not look at Dean. In the tone of his voice you knew he was pleased.

Dean was more than pleased, albeit a little confused about his feelings but pleased nonetheless. He loved hearing the commanding tone of your voice, telling some other girl to back off of him. Telling that girl to back off because he was yours. A needle pricked at the back of Dean’s mind as he replayed the rollercoaster of emotions he felt. He liked that moment. He liked your tone of voice, but why? It was because of the insinuations he could make. You wanted him. You wanted him to yourself, there was a possessiveness to what you said and how you said it. It was dominant and commanding.

No. Dean liked it because it meant you wanted him. He was not a bottom, and he did not like that interaction because you were possessive and domineering.

……

“Mmmhhmmmm,” Dean hummed, his inflection rising up and then down. Now it was his turn to lean back into his chair. His perfect lips were pursed with a small smirk, one brow quirked with intrigue. “You sure someone wasn’t jealous of a pretty lady giving me attention?”

“Sorry but the only pretty lady I see in this library is me,” Your voice attempted to make you seem preoccupied with cleaning up your space. Your fingers moved a lightning speed as you emailed yourself all the notes you had taken and shut down all the programs you had opened. “So I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your facial features moved in a comical way depicting a dramatic expression of confusion, with a hand on your hip. The table was finally free of all your possessions, the last notebook was zipped up into your backpack.

Dean had you right where he wanted you, embarrassed and caught. He knew you would dodge and change the subject as quickly as you could if confronted with a topic you didn’t like. “I’m gonna remind you of this!” He shouted to you with his hands cupped around his mouth.

You were already speeding off to the car, desperate to run away from this conversation and what it could come to. If anyone was going to be in control of a situation, it was going to be you and you’d fight anyone and everyone for that control with your bare hands.

“I’ll forget it!” You yelled back at him over your shoulder, bleaching your mind of any itchy feelings you were experiencing.

“Constantly!” Dean yelled back, only to receive the bird from you. He laughed and tumbled after you, happy to finally have some new material to ruin your day with.

~~~~

After five minutes of Dean looking like the cat who got the cream, white all over his smug stupid whiskers, you arrived at a locally owned diner. If you rolled your eyes anymore you were certain that you would go blind, and yet it would still be worth it just to let Dean know that you were mildly inconvenienced by his existence. The hum of the impala came to a soft halt. With the combination of Dean teasing you and your hunger, you may have strangled someone if you didn’t get fries in you soon.

A bell attached to the door rang out once you two stepped foot inside. Only the waitress on staff bothered to look up from her post behind a counter, the other employees were too engrossed in just making it through another eight hour shift without losing their minds.

“Seat yourself wherever you like, I’ll be with you in a second!” She flashed a bright smile before dipping into the back of the kitchen. You and Dean nodded before following her directions and finding the corner booth in the back, cause that’s where all the cool kids sit. And with you two sitting there, only the coolest of kids sat there.

Dean leaned his chin on his hand and gazed at you. “So do you wanna talk more about how you secretly have a crush on me?”

“No.”

“Maybe about how you were totally going to duel that hot librarian for my hand?”

“Rot in hell.”

“Oh! Oh! Maybe we can discuss your feelings on a certain other topic that’s definitely unrelated.”

Your unamused eyes continued to look at him, giving him no response hoping that he’d take the FUCKING hint. “Oh yeah? And what topic would that be?”

“Me, and my cute face.” Dean winked and did his signature blue steel look. With a loud bang you hit your head on the table, laying your arms on the table around your head limp.

“Deaaannn, I swear to god I will strangle you until the last breath from your lung is used.”

“So what you’re saying is that you want your hands on me? You want to touch me?” Dean leaned closer and dropped his voice as low as he could go with every word that came out of his mouth just egging you on to do something. “You wanna put your hands all over my body?”

You whipped your head up, eyes wild and craving revenge, and you were just about to open your mouth and verbally destroy this stupid boy’s whole career when your waitress popped herself in front of the table.

“Hi! I’m Audrey, and I’ll be taking care you guys tonight. Have you been here before?” She had the whole speech memorized and recited it off as she handed you both a menu.

“Why no we haven’t! Darling aren’t you so excited to be here?” Dean grabbed your hand across the table affectionately with a huge fake smile. The weird vibe Audrey got from this table was throwing her off but regardless she had a job to do.

‘Some of us will never eat again…’ You thought to yourself, thinking of all the places you could stab Dean with a fork.

“Thrilled.” You stated, pointedly glaring at Dean and his boyish charm getting the best of you. Audrey smiled to herself and started to understand what was going on and dismissed her earlier thoughts. After getting you two started with drinks she left you to look over the food options.

“Can I guess what you’re gonna get?”

“As long as I get serve you cyanide afterwards.”

Dean settled into the booth and looked off into the distance to pretend to think very hard. “You are gonna get a cheeseburger with everything on it, as rare as they serve it. Side of fries and a large lemonade because even at age 23, you’re still an 8 year old.”

Damnit he was right.

You shared Dean’s smug look, ready to dish back what you were served. “Ok fine, you’re going to get the most overloaded bacon burger in order to cash in on that heart attack you’ve been waiting for forever, but hold all the vegetables because we want this one to be a big one. Side of fries and a shitty great value coke.”

Dean nodded slightly and clapped quietly for you. “Right you are.” A moment was spent in silence, just the two of you laughing at each other smiling like love struck idiots. Your eyes tore away first, landing on a newspaper that was from today. The headline was the real reason you decided to pick it up.

Local Crazy Believes Creature of the Night Kills Friend

You flipped through the pages to find the story. It was published today and showed a picture of your sole survivor, Chrissy Hamilton.

In a sad attempt to get some attention, Chrissy Hamilton offers her break out story.

“It was like my friends’ voices were coming from two different directions!”

“This thing was too fast to see…”

Clearly this is just another example of our country’s failed mental health system…

“I wouldn’t spend too much time reading that malarkey…” Audrey said with her eyebrows pulled together, eyes cast down as she refilled your water glasses.

“Do you know her?” You asked, laying the paper flat on the table for Dean to see too.

Audrey sighed as she stood back up, water pitcher straining her left wrist. “She’s my best friend. I’m not sure what really happened up there, but the newspaper doesn’t have to ruin her reputation like this and publish a drag story.” Her jaw clenched at the mention of the newspaper.

“Does she have any enemies at the newspaper, maybe that would want to defame her?” Dean spoke up. Audrey eyed Dean caught up in her own thoughts.

“We’re trying to run a counter story to get the Denver Times to redact the article.” You butted in, if this girl was going to give you anything it had to seem like she wasn’t gossiping with customers but giving info to fellow truth seekers.

Audrey pursed her lips in thought for a moment. “No, but the police chief doesn’t seem to like her. I don’t have any evidence to back it up, but I’m pretty sure he went to the head news correspondent and told him to run the article.” As more information poured in, the two of you couldn’t seem to figure out what the hell this cop’s problem was. He seemed to do everything in his power to derail this investigation, the dude was definitely hiding something.

“You’re pretty sure?”

“Yeah…they’re drinking buddies so it wouldn’t surprise me.” Audrey’s attention was pulled away when the bell at the front door rang again. “If you guys have any more questions I can answer them after my shift.”

You and Dean shared a look. “The same voice coming from two different directions and super fast? I think I have an idea of what we’re looking for…”

“Can we please talk to that Hamilton lady first, I’d very much like to drag this out before I freeze my balls off…”

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srprincess · 4 years

Text

Guess what!?! It’s Fictober time again! So – new prompts, but I’m still out here (making an attempt at) finishing my same old fic.

Prompt 1 – “No, come back!” // fandom – omgcp // fic rating – T for language reasons

Notes: This is actually chapter 19 of the Spookydoo AU I started last fictober. I can’t believe it’s been an entire year. I guess months worth of pandemic related block and a cross country move will tend to slow these sorts of things down, but, yeah – a year. Wow. Back at the start I had thought this was going to be a quick month long project, but here we are! If you’re still following me from way back then, here’s the long promised update. If you’re new this will make NO SENSE without the rest of the story - and honestly only minimal sense after - so I’ll drop a link to the rest of the story on Ao3 in the replies (since tumblr hates links)

---

“Are you sure I don't need to head back and get them?” Will asked, for the third time.

“Nah, they’re resourceful. Quit worrying,” Nursey told him, also for the third time. At least. Maybe he had asked a few too many times.

He, Nursey, Shitty and Lardo were gathered back around the table in his kitchen, while Sammy sat at the edge of the doorway leading into the mudroom, happily chewing on a length of rope that Will had knotted up for her. He didn't have much to offer in the way of snacks while they waited, but he’d managed to scrounge up a bag of not quite stale pretzels and some cold sodas. Not the best spread, but good enough he didn't think his mom’s memory would judge him too harshly under the circumstances. Said circumstances being that these particular guests and their friends had basically wiped out his pantry over the course of their previous visits.

They were waiting, with varying levels of patience, for Holster and Ransom to show up with their lunches, and - maybe more importantly, it depended on who you asked - to tell them what they'd found out about Lou’s place. Or rather the house that she had been...haunting? It was still hard for Will to think about it that way, about his longtime friend being a ghost, but, well, could he deny it anymore? Honestly? It was strange, but if she was a ghost - which she was - and had been staying in and around the house - which she had - what else could you call it other than a haunting? At any rate, finding out the property had been sitting vacant might have explained how it could have had a ghost-in-residence for so long without attracting too much attention, but it opened up a whole other set of questions. Who would leave a house on the water empty for years? Sure, it needed some upkeep, but still, it was a nice enough place in a great spot. Where were the owners? Why hadn’t they been trying harder to sell it? Or failing that, using the property themselves? He also wanted to know more about how Lou had ended up connected to the property, but that was going to have to come from her and not a simple property search. Unfortunately, she hadn't seemed any too eager to talk about her final days when he and Nursey had talked to her earlier.

After his stomach grumbled, Nursey checked the time, again, and sighed.

“I said I could head back in for them,” Will pointed out. “It’s not an issue-”

“Might be a while, but I’m sure they're on the way,” Shitty assured him. “I think they were looking for an excuse to rent that bike, and a ride’ll take them a minute.”

“Not the tandem!” Lardo shook her head, “I thought we talked them out of that.”

“Yes, the tandem, and you tried to talk them out of it. I, on the other hand, might have offered to pay the fee as long as they took pictures.”

“They'll never make it here in one piece on that thing.”

“Oh, ye of little stature and faith, they are perfectly synced. They'll make it fine.”

“Whatever. Then why did you want pictures, hmmm? A 20 says they'll crash and burn at least once.”

“Hopefully they don’t fall on my sandwich,” Nursey muttered under his breath.

“Because Jack can't be the only one with pictures of these trips, that’s why. So, deal?”

“Deal.” Shitty and Lardo were just shaking on the bet when the sound of tires on the rocks outside was followed by a knock at the door. They all turned to look at Will, who looked blankly back before it clicked -

“Oh. Yeah. My house. My door. Best be getting that.” He rushed to the answer, more to hide his blush than out of a hurry to let the two in.

He opened the door to the double whirlwind that was Ransom and Holster pushing through, arms loaded with bags.

Shitty took one look at them before holding his hand out to Lardo. “All in one piece. Well, two pieces. As expected. Pay up.”

“Not so fast,” she told him, attempting to shove his hand away before turning to them. “How did you manage to carry all of that on a bike?”

“No bike,” Ransom told her.

“It was already rented,” Holster added.

“Ha!” She slapped Shitty’s hand down. “No payday for you.”

“You neither,” he pointed out.

“Hmmm. I still say you owe me ten,” Lardo argued.

“The hell I do,” Shitty scoffed back.

“But if they would have ridden the bike they would have fallen, and you know it.”

“Says you. Wrongly.”

“My. What an excellent defense. I can see why you're the high-powered attorney here.” Lardo pulled a face at him before stating her case, “If they had tried to ride that bike they likely would have fallen. If they tried to ride it while holding all those bags, they for sure would have. I see no possible way that they would have made it here safely, and so I still deserve half the original bet winnings.”

“Incorrect,” Shitty took a final sip of his drink and a deep breath before standing. Full attorney mode. “First, both these fine individuals have a history of athletic excellence in a sport known for quick moves requiring great balance skills, coordination and teamwork,” he counted off each point in his hands. “Second, they've been known to safely carry much more than a few bags of food, over unfamiliar terrain, in the dark-”

“Well, I did fall on Rans that one time we-”

Shitty hushed Holster before continuing, “Shhh - You aren't helping the case.”

“Why are we even on trial?” Ransom asked, confused. “Anyways, I remember that. Kind of. You only almost fell, bro, and we were hella fucked up that night.”

“You,” Shitty pointed to Ransom, “are helping. Thank you. As I had said - teamwork. While, errr, shall we say inebriated? They were able to use teamwork to accomplish their goals. Mostly safely. Sober, and in the clear light of day, making it here safely would have been no problem. Thirdly, if the bet had been that they `likely’ would have fallen off the bike with their arms full, I allow that you might have won. Unfortunately, for you, it wasn’t and so you didn’t. In closing, your point is dismissed for being unprovable. Case closed. The End.” He, smugly, picked his cup back up to drain the drink.

“You can't just close the case yourself-” Lardo argued.

“And yet, I have,” Shitty shrugged.

She growled under her breath, “this isn't over,” Lardo pointed at him before asking Ransom and Holster, “So, no bike? How did you get here?”

Will, who had been watching like the exchange like it was the most interesting show he’d seen in years, and, let’s be real, with television as spotty as it was out there it kind of was, turned to them, curious himself to hear the answer.

Nursey, who had been enjoying watching Will watch the others, said, “Probably an Uber.”

“No Uber round these parts.”

“Fine, Lyft, whatever.”

“Nope, don’t have those either,” Will told him. “We do have a Martha, but there’s no way that’s how they got here.”

“What’s a Martha?” Nursey asked.

“She calls herself a taxi service, but truthfully she’s just a busybody who got herself a fair reliable rig and a business license. Let’s her keep up on who’s new around, see what they're about and then give them a mandatory tour of her favorite places. Takes her forever to get anywhere. Guaranteed it would have taken them at least another hour to get out here with her.”

“An hour!? How is this town even big enough to take that long?”

“Well, if you drop her a ’tip’ she's sure to add your place on the route, yeah? Bunch of shops do every year. That's a lot of side roads and loops. Now me? I throw her some money every season to miss The Light entirely. She would have tried stalling and distracting them as long as possible before heading this way.”

“So, don’t take ’a Martha’, noted for future.” Ransom cut in.

“We didn't need to anyway,” Holster told the group. “Did you know, if you order food for delivery, you can get yourself delivered along with it?”

“That's not a-” Nursey started to argue before looking to Will for confirmation. “Is that a thing?”

“No. Definitely not a thing.”

Holster gestured at the bags and then at himself and Ransom, “I do believe it is.”

Will frowned, confused, “You know what...I don’t even think they do delivery at all. Outside of town, leastways.”

“You’d be amazed how far friendliness and a smile can get you,” Holster said, flashing a near alarming display of teeth.

“Maybe you should try that sometime, Poindexter,” Nursey joked.

“Ha fucking ha,” Will said, flashing a smile that veered more towards frightening than not.

“Hope you tipped well,” Shitty told Holster, ignoring the shoulder shoving across the table.

“Pfft, of course dude.”

“Good, then. Now, important business, where’s my sammie?”

A whine came from the doorway.

“Sorry, I meant my sandwich, not you Sammy,” Shitty turned to tell the dog. She sniffed in their direction, clearly looking for attention in the form of food of her own but not wanting to leave her new rope unattended. “But, yeah, her food, where’s it at? Guys?”

But he’d lost the attention of Ransom and Holster. With a nudge and a head tilt to where Nursey’s ankle was practically hooked around Will’s, Ransom smirked at Holster, who in turn sighed and pulled some money out of his pocket to hand it over.

Nursery watched the exchange before he narrowed his eyes. “And what’s this about?”

“What?”

“The money?”

“That? He owed me for the, umm, dog dishes.”

“Yeah, sure he did.”

“Right, Holtzy?”

“Absolutely, the dishes. We were going halfsies. Because, uh, gift?”

Ransom scrunched his face up before he mouthed ’gift, really?’ back at him, but Holster just gave a small shrug.

Nursey still looked doubtful and Shitty, who had given up waiting and was rooting through the bags for himself, distracted them when he asked “Well, where are they?

“Where are what?” Ransom asked.

“The. Dog. Dishes.” he answered slowly and deliberately.

“Shit. Fuck. Damn. I, uh, forgot them?”

“Uh-huh,” Nursey shook his head. “You forgot to bring the dishes. That you just bought. As a gift. Suuuure.”

“Don’t worry about it. So long as you brought the food, I can find something to put it in.” Will got up and dug through a cupboard by the sink that was little more than a jumble of used butter tubs and came up with two bowls.

One bowl he filled with water and set in front of the dog. The other he handed them to Lardo who filled it with some of the food Shitty had found in the bags, leading to a very happy Sammy, who flopped on top of the rope before digging in with enthusiastic messiness.

“Isn’t that uncomfortable? And look at that-” Nursey pointed out the puddles and food pieces spread all around the dog.

“It’s fine,” Will waved him off.

“What about your precious floor? All I did was drip on it the other night and-”

“Oh, let her be. Unlike people, she can’t help it if she makes a silly little mess.” Will ruffled the fur on top of her head. “Besides, she’s a good girl, aren't you Sammy,” Sammy wiggled at the good girl comment and went back to happily working to empty her bowl. Dog mess was fine, Will told himself, nothing he couldn’t clean up later. He wondered if maybe he should consider a dog of his own. The company might be nice. He shrugged off the thought for later and went to wash his hands before grabbing a stack of plates to take to the table.

All business of bets and money exchanges temporarily forgotten, the gang worked as one to pass around the lunches.

A giant sub was split between Lardo and Shitty. She flicked an olive that had stayed to her half at him, which he easily caught with his mouth before flicking a pepper back towards her. When he went to grab a drink, she swiped another pepper and one of his tomato slices too. Ransom passed her his pickle spears, and she gave him half her lettuce. Holster split his bag of BBQ chips and the salt and vinegar ones in front of Ransom between them 50-50. Okay, maybe 60-40. But neither complained. Instead of being split up, a large bag of fries was just torn open and left for each to pick from as they wanted. Ketchup squeezed out onto one of the wrappers that had previously held a wrap. All the exchanges spoke to the habits of friends who’d shared a meal many times over. Will eyed the onions that Nursey picked off his sandwich, wanting them. Even though no one else had made a move for them, he wasn’t quite brave enough to push his way into their rituals. No matter, because as soon as the look was noticed, he found them deposited on the side of his own plate. Happily piling them on his own sandwich he spared a slice of bacon back, but just one. He wasn’t that generous.

Will had originally thought they had brought back too much food not realizing some of the others had gone, but the reason for the pile of random extra sandwiches dropped in the middle of the table became clear as each was picked apart and passed around until everyone was full.

As the last scraps of their meal were being cleared away Ransom spoke up, “So, I got in touch with that realtor,” he told them. “The property is up for sale. Technically. Has been for a while.”

“What do you mean, technically? Then why isn't it listed anywhere? Being shown?” Will asked.

“Well, that's the thing. Apparently, they tried? But the seller wasn’t very motivated and only interest at the price was for a package deal.”

“A package-” Will paused and frowned. “Wait. What was the realtor’s name again?”

When Ransom told him, Will’s face clouded over and a hint of rage built up at the set of his jaw.

“So, I take it you do know him. He said you'd, hmmm, spoken? Before.” Ransom filled in the others, “There’d been a big deal in the works with a developer, but they wanted this whole area or no deal.”

“Yeah. Those assholes. Not likely to forget them. Wanted to turn this place into some ridiculous restaurant.”

“Waterfront restaurants can be nice,” Holster tried to play devil’s advocate, “a good draw for the area.”

Will was having none of it. “My grandfather and father both would roll over in their graves if they knew I sold this place. After all the work they put in on the updates? Especially to some stiff from away. All so someone could open a restaurant we probably wouldn't even be able to afford to eat in? No way. No how. I think not.”

Shitty agreed, “I get it, yeah. People like that’ll suck the soul out of a place to make a buck. Fuck ’em.”

They’d only met recently, and it was hard for Will to tell if Shitty was motivated to agree with him in an attempt to stay on his good side, because he actually did agree or just because he couldn't resist joining in on a potential argument. In any case, fueled by the agreement, Will’s knew he was headed into full ’soapbox mode’ but couldn't help himself. “It’s the developers ruining towns like this all up and down the coast,” his voice rose and his arms flailed as he got more worked up. “For years we’ve helped our own. Didn't need anything from anyone other than basic neighborliness. Share and share alike, and everyone makes it just fine. Then some upstart comes in with his fancy ideas and a pile of money and, and, we’re supposed to sell up and then what? Go where? Do what-”

Holster, who seemed to have finally realized what can of worms he opened up, tried to back it up, “I didn't mean- not your place. Just, like, in general? Attractions, well, attract. But you're here, using the place. There's open land out there and they shouldn’t-”

Will steamrolled on, “-always say they want the authentic experience getaway but that’s not what they're really after. What they really mean is some bland cookie cutter experience that’ll get copied at every seaside town. So they can do the same things and share the same photos as everyone else. Nothing is genuine anymore. Where’s the originality of that? If they have their way every place will be the same as the next. Whatever happened to-”

Ransom held up a hand before interrupting, “Dex is right about that. It does seem to be what they were after here.”

Will grumbled out an “Obviously” but other than that let the other man continue speaking.

“This particular buyer wanted everything from the lane out to the water. All the lots. They’d had plans to turn this place into a restaurant, private outdoor seating at the top. The couple houses as you’re coming out this way redone and connected by a huge kitchen in the middle to make a big bed and breakfast or inn type situation. And then uh,” Ransom paused, “well, your friend's house? That was going to be turned into a gift shop. Upscale souvenirs they told him. But, without adding the rest, there wouldn't have been the traffic to support a shop. So - all or nothing.”

“There was, and is, no way I'm selling up and moving out,” Will shoved himself back from the table angrily.

“Hey, I’m not saying you should,” Ransom held up his hands. “Just passing on what he said. Pretty sure he knows that now.”

“Why do ya say that? I mean, good, but why?”

“He described you as - now keep in mind this is coming from him, and not me. I think you're great, and so don’t-”

“Spit it out.”

“he-called-you-the-lighthouse-lunatic,” came the quickly murmured answer.

“He what?!” Will yelled.

“Come on man, don't make me say it again,” Ransom said with a wince.

“He called me - Well that's - that’s rude is what it is. Imagine invading a man’s home, after he’s - then you're going to call him names? Rude. Even more glad I didn't sell. Lunatic,” Will huffed.

“I wouldn't call you a lunatic,” Holster said, as the others added their agreement. “You do get...excited, but no.”

“At the risk of getting you all, you know,” Nursey gestured vaguely at Will before scooting himself back to a safe distance and continuing, “I’m just saying, coming from a person you tried to forcibly eject days ago, is it completely inaccurate?”

“Yes!”

“Is it though?”

“I will throw you back into the ocean with my bare hands. Right now. Let’s go.”

Nursey offered back a weak smile to show he was kidding, mostly, and the rest started to throw out other words in Will’s defense.

“Not lunatic.”

“No, of course not.”

“Excitable?”

“Touchy, edgy?”

“Nah, opinionated?”

“And, fiercely determined”

“Oh, good one.”

“And hermit like?”

“That’s territorial.”

A woman’s voice from the other side of the room said, “he’s enthusiastically defensive.”

Nursey snaps his fingers. “Exactly!”

“Enthusiastically defensive,” Will repeated before turning and nodding in the direction of Lou, who had appeared over by the sink. “I can accept that.”

She smiled before disappearing again.

“Okay, so, big picture-” Nursey tried to take control of the conversation, “it boils down to, without Dexy’s place here, the whole deal was off the table.”

“And other than that offer there wasn't any real interest,” Holster, who had listened in on Ransom’s call with the realtor, finished. “With no package deal, and the other house owners not willing to take the low offers coming in, he decided it wasn't worth coming all this way to show it to people who are never going to buy anyway. Without the potential sellers pushing him, he stopped promoting it. He’d almost forgotten about the listing himself because no one has ever checked up with him in the last few years. Said it was like the owners themselves had even forgotten about it.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, what he said, zombie property. But now back to THAT.” Ransom frantically waved his arms. “What the? Who the? Tell me you all heard that.”

“Uhhh well-” Will stalled.

Ransom looked around at the rest of them, who were visibly trying not to react.

“Is no one going to mention the fucking ghost in the room?!” He shrieked. In a manly way. If you asked him, he would have called it a shout. A very high-pitched shout. That he made while pushing himself as close into the corner, behind the table, as he could.

“Oh, that’s - Lou?”

“Yes, Derek?” she answered from over his shoulder.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to call you, I was just telling him - but since you’re here-”

“Your friends seem a little troubled.”

Will snorted.

Most of them were only staring, quiet, and more than a bit shocked, but remarkable not freaking out. At least not externally. But Ransom - well, his face was doing its best fish impression and - try as he might - he couldn't manage to force another word out.

Holster tried to help by giving him a slap on the back and he managed to eke out the words `girl’ and `ghost’ before slipping under the table.

“Is he...okay?” she asked.

“Eh-” Lardo said, tilting her hand side to side.

“Not really.” Holster reached under the table and gave a supportive shoulder squeeze.

“Hi,” was all Shitty got out.

“Maybe I should go,” Lou said, slowly fading.

“Hi?” Shitty asked.

Will thought it was weird to see her fading, when he’d already found himself getting used to her quickly blipping in and out. Then he realized how weird it was he found himself getting used to anything at all to do with this situation.

“No, come back!” they all yelled. Well, all minus Ransom. He whimpered unintelligibly from his hiding place.

Lou faded back in, “are you sure?”

“Hi.” Shitty repeated, prompting a choked back laugh from Lardo.

“I think he means yes,” Will told her. “Stay a while.”

#fictober20 #omgcp #nurseydex #spookydoo au #near year same bullshit #i swear i will finish this one day #I've been adding a few hundred words here and there for ages #and this seemed like the perfect time to update it #even if I wish I had gotten a little further in the writing... ah well #little writer who could etc etc etc #does tumblr still hate links?#or just me?#because this time my header pic kept me from showing up #ah well deleted that now too

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quillingyousoftly · 4 years

Text

Hunt

Written for day 2 of Rumrollins Week: Alternate Universe (Merfolk AU 😉)

Warnings: inaccurate portrayal of marine biologists’ work, love bites

Jack spotted him lounging on a rock. His tail was black and shimmering in the sun, and when Jack's boat swam closer, he noticed spikes growing along his arms and back, resting against his skin. He felt a rush of excitement when he realized he was looking at a different species than the ones he had researched so far.

"Pietro!" he shouted to his navigator. "Get closer to that rock!"

Jack unpacked his camera as they slowly began approaching the rock. His assistant and Pietro's twin, Wanda, walked over to him with her own camera already recording.

The merman spotted them, too. He rolled onto his back, flicked his tail seductively, and sent them a blissful smile. Jack signed for Pietro to stop.

Merfolk were rediscovered fairly recently, because about a decade ago, and Jack was one of the first gorgologists in the world. To this day, the most safe way to study those mysterious and capable predators was to watch them from afar as they preyed on humans as keenly—if not more—as they did on fish. The first ever gorgologist, Abraham Erskine, had learned about it the hard way, and the story of his death had become a cautionary tale for every gorgologist that came after him.

"I think we look tasty to him," Wanda quipped as she recorded the merman flicking and showing off his shimmering tail, evidently trying to lure them closer.

"He's different from the ones we described so far, see the spikes along his arms?" Jack pointed at the merman's arms that were spread across the rock. "But he hunts in the same way."

"He's not singing," Wanda said.

"Not yet," Jack pointed out. "But he's relying on attraction. Let's circle him," he addressed Pietro.

Pietro steered the boat around the rock so Jack and Wanda could record the merman from all sides. He tracked their movement, slowly rolling his head to the side, then sat up to watch them, then lay down on his stomach with his hands submerged and playfully flicking the seawater their way.

"You're not wrong about the spikes," Wanda said. "Oh, I wish there was more of them nearby! Do you think they all have black hair and tails?"

"I'd rather not guess." Jack still felt ashamed over describing the first species he had discovered, triton triton, to have red and golden coloring, only to later find out their females had purple and silver tails instead.

As they circled the rock, the merman constantly changed positions in an attempt to lure them in, but he didn't start signing. The sun was already setting when Jack decided to call it a day and ordered Pietro to take them back to shore. At the sight of their boat retreating, the merman freaked out; he launched himself off the rock and flew their way with his long, sharp fangs bared. Wanda shrieked and dropped her camera, both her and Jack jumping back. The merman caught the railing and pulled himself up, hissing, his spikes standing up, his eyes acid green, though Jack could swear they were a calm hazel shade before. Wanda unholstered her dart gun and aimed, but seeing it, the merman pushed himself off the railing and disappeared under the surface.

"Quick thinking," Jack praised when he was sure the danger had passed.

Wanda holstered her gun away. "Thanks," she said, her breath a little heavy.

"He must have known what that was for him to retreat so fast." Jack stopped recording and switched off the camera.

"Or he saw a similar thing." Wanda scowled, and both said at the same time, "Poachers."

Jack tried not to think about poachers, but it was hard when he would run into them more and more often. Soon after the merfolk were rediscovered, some rich fucks began wondering how they tasted. The idea was extremely repulsive to Jack, as not only were the merfolk humanoid, they were also the second intelligent species on the planet. Unfortunately, they must have tasted great, because the demand for merfolk meat increased. Many scammers also claimed on their shady websites merfolk scales had healing properties, and their saliva and blood brought luck. Common people would buy fake scales from them, but the rich who also bought into that nonsense craved the real thing.

Jack sighed to himself as he sat down in front of his laptop to write a report. He played the video on his camera, noting the details of the merman's appearance, especially the exact length and placement of the spikes, as well as his smaller fins on the sides and the back of his tail. Wanda sat across from him, checking if her own camera broke when she dropped it.

"I have a name," Jack said casually as he typed away. "Triton acutus. What d'ya think?"

"Spiked merman?" She nodded to herself. "It fits him. The casing is fractured, but I think it's still working."

"That's good," Jack said without a glance at her camera.

When they finally reached the docks, Jack took the laptop with him to finish his report at home. After he described everything there was to know about the spiked mermen so far—which wasn’t much—he replayed the recording over and over again, looking for details he might have missed. But the truth was, their encounter was too short to really know the species.

“I hope I’ll see you again sometime,” Jack murmured to the camera before deciding talking to inanimate objects was a sign of exhaustion and preparing for bed.

For the next couple weeks, Jack returned to the rock they had found the spiked merman on, but after not a single sighting, he had to give up and explore different waters. Even then, he didn’t have any luck. Such was his job; the reason the merfolk were considered a myth for so long was the very rare sightings. Jack would usually explore seas and oceans for months without a single sighting. Seeing a merman of a completely different species than the ones already known was a big deal.

One day, when Jack’s team was returning from yet another uneventful exploration, Jack followed his gut and told Pietro to pass by the rock. This time, as they approached, Jack saw something lying on the rock. He held his breath in anticipation, hoping it wasn’t just a hallucination caused by wishful thinking.

“Is that a mermaid?” Wanda exclaimed, confirming there in fact was something there.

Jack grabbed his binoculars and peered at the rock. Wanda was right: a humanoid body with a long fishtail was resting on the rock. Jack’s heart skipped a beat when he noticed something that looked like spikes along the mermaid’s arms.

“Another spiked!” He passed the binoculars to Wanda so she could see for herself.

Soon, they were close enough to recognize it was a merman, the very same they had met before. Jack’s blood ran cold when he noticed the red stains on the top of the rock, as well as on the merman’s chest. His body was limp, his eyes closed.

“That’s not a hunting technique, is it?” Wanda asked. Her face had gone pale at the sight.

“We need to help him,” Jack decided. “I’m going there. Keep your gun at the ready in case he tries to eat me.”

Pietro stopped the boat close enough to the rock that Jack reached it in two strides. The water was shallow there, reaching to Jack’s chest as he walked. After climbing up onto the rock and taking one look at the merman, he could immediately tell he was really injured. He was bleeding from his side, his flesh ragged around the oozing wound. High in his chest, he was bleeding from a hole. Jack pursed his lips. Poachers.

Jack gently touched the merman, then tried to lift him, but he was too heavy. The merman stirred and, seeing Jack, hissed, baring his teeth. He was too weak to attack, though; even his spikes were lying down.

“Pietro! Come help!”

Together, they lifted the merman, Jack holding his front, and Pietro his tail. Carrying him to the boat proved to be a difficult task, as the merman struggled weakly, and became more slippery once they entered the water. Wanda helped to pull him onboard, and they lay him down on the floor. The merman kept hissing and flailing his tail, his head raised slightly to watch their movements, but it was now clear he was in no state to attack.

“What now?” Pietro asked as the three of them stood around the merman, trying to wrap their heads around what was happening. There was a living merman on their boat. It was an equivalent of driving with a wild tiger in your car.

“We need to stop the bleeding. Then we’ll bring him to doctor Zola,” Jack decided.

Wanda brought towels, and she and Jack kneeled next to the merman. They tried to press his wounds, but he started flailing more violently, and once his tail smacked Wanda across the face, they held him down. Jack trapped his arms under his knees, Wanda his tail under her thin frame, and only then Jack was able to press both wounds with the towels. After a moment, the merman must have understood they were trying to help him, because he stopped fighting. He looked up at Jack, and as their eyes met, Jack sensed a sort of connection creating between them. Then, the merman’s eyes rolled up, and he passed out.

“Is he okay?” Wanda asked.

Jack nodded. “I can feel his heartbeat. But we’re running out of time.”

Pietro was speeding through the waters, but even though they reached the shore, they were still far away from the Hydra Research Laboratories. They needed to stuff the merman inside Jack’s Land Rover. Wanda sat with him in the backseat, still pressing his wounds, his tail hanging over the backrest of the passenger's seat. Pietro was driving behind them, but in his hurry, Jack ran a couple red lights, and they lost him.

Jack just entered the lab’s parking lot, when Wanda exclaimed, “Jack! His spikes are falling off!”

Jack braked and looked behind, but froze when he noticed loose scales on the top of the passenger's seat.

“We need to get him to Zola.”

They exited the car, leaving it open in the center of the parking lot, the keys still in the ignition, and carried the dying merman to doctor Arnim Zola, an aquatic veterinarian and their colleague. Zola immediately prepared for surgery, and Jack and Wanda rested their backs against the corridor wall, waiting for the outcome. After a moment, Wanda pointed out they were covered in blood, so they went to the restrooms to wash up. Jack’s hands shook as he cleaned them, and he leaned against the sink and counted his breaths to calm himself down. When he looked into the mirror, he noticed he was unnaturally pale, and his eyes looked a bit haunted. He had met only a few merfolk specimens, and they were all exciting experiences, even if most of them wanted to eat him. To witness one of them dying from wounds inflicted by poachers would feel crushing.

Once his hands were more or less steady, Jack exited the restroom. Wanda was back in the corridor, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. Pietro was standing beside them, busy with something on his phone.

“I parked your car,” he said without looking up at Jack. “You’ll need to vacuum it.”

“Thanks,” Jack mumbled and went over to back the wall beside Wanda.

Pietro left for a walk after a while with his nose still in the screen, while Jack and Wanda waited for Zola to return. It didn’t last long; he went out to meet them just when Pietro came back from his walk.

“He’s stable,” Zola said. “But you should see something.”

He waved them over, and Jack and Wanda exchanged consternated glances before following him. They entered Zola’s lab, full of aquariums filled with fish, octopodes and other creatures. Zola led them to an operating table in the center of the lab where the merman lay. His chest was freshly dressed but still stained with dried blood and iodine, and he was covered with a sheet from waist down. Jack felt a rush of anxiety upon seeing loose scales on the floor under the table. When he walked closer, he noticed there wasn’t one spike left on his arms. He sent Zola an inquiring look. In response, Zola lifted the sheet.

Wanda yelped in surprise. Jack gaped with his mouth open. Somewhere behind him, a phone clattered to the floor. Pietro cursed.

Before them lay a naked man. The tail was gone, and in its place, lying between piles of black scales, were two legs. Jack gingerly touched one. It was warm and fleshy, exactly like a human leg should feel.

“Almost gave me a heart attack when that happened,” Zola said.

“Does he still have his fangs?” Wanda asked.

Zola pulled away his lower lip, revealing the merman’s sharp fangs still in place. Jack gasped softly.

“A wolf in sheep’s clothing,” he said. “He can walk among his unsuspecting prey. A perfect predator.”

“Think he can talk?” Pietro asked.

Jack shook his head. “He didn’t seem to understand English. Maybe just because he can live on land, doesn’t mean he does.”

“Maybe he speaks a different one,” Wanda said. “We’d never encountered their kind before; maybe they normally live closer to Africa or Europe.”

“Maybe,” Jack said absentmindedly, scanning the bare body before him. Without counting the head, it was completely hairless, and shredded in a way a swimmer’s body never could be. Jack’s face warmed when he realized he was looking at an attractive, naked man, and when he glanced at Wanda, he saw a flush raising in her cheeks as well.

Zola covered the merman up to his waist, and Jack finally tore his eyes away from him. They left Zola to his work and exited the lab. Jack was feeling slightly dazed and only listened to Wanda and Pietro talk.

“We should name him,” Wanda was saying, her cheeks still a little pink. Perhaps it was just excitement. They had never had a merman or a mermaid in their lab before. “With something starting with a B. The only other merman we named was Anthony, so it’s only right.”

“Maybe Brock?” Pietro suggested.

Wanda narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you playing Pokemon?”

“No,” Pietro lied and pocketed his phone.

Jack returned to the Hydra Research Laboratories the next morning, after a sleepless night. He went to his own lab first to change and make himself a cup of coffee, but upon opening the door, he stopped in his tracks and did a double take.

The merman—Brock—was sitting in his chair, still legged and very much naked. He was watching a video on the computer.

“I think we look tasty to him,” Wanda said from the speakers.

Jack realized Brock was watching his own discovery. He gaped, both shocked that Brock knew how to use a computer, and worried he’d try to attack him. Warily, he walked inside, glancing towards a cabinet where he kept his dart gun.

“Hello there,” he said gently. “I see you’re up.”

Brock didn’t react, and Jack slowly approached him, but froze when he noticed fish heads lying on the floor by his feet. Looking back at Brock’s face, Jack saw dried blood on his chin.

“Are those Zola’s patients?” Jack asked, wincing. He supposed they didn’t get any food for Brock. “Well, better them than Zola.”

Brock finally acknowledged him, getting up from the chair and facing him. Jack felt his face heating again as he saw Brock in all his glory, and his eyes quickly snapped back to his wardrobe.

“Why won’t you wear something?”

He retrieved a lab coat, and Brock, surprisingly, let him help him put it on, though he was initially confused by how the sleeves worked. Jack buttoned it up and took a step back. Brock ran his hands down his newly clothed body and pulled at the lab coat. It was far from fitting as Jack was bigger than him, but it was better than nothing. Brock didn’t seem to mind, because he looked up at Jack, cocked his head, and smiled, batting his eyelashes.

“You’re still hungry?” Jack asked in disbelief, trying to ignore the fact Brock’s flirting suddenly started working on him. It was unsettling not only because that was his way of luring his prey but also because Jack never felt attracted to something not human, and especially not the creature he was researching. It was unprofessional. “Maybe I can order some sush—”

Brock grabbed Jack’s collar, pulled him down to his eye-level, and cut him off with a delicate, inquiring kiss. Jack opened his mouth under him, more out of surprise than anything else, and Brock promptly slipped his tongue in. He tasted, unfortunately, like blood and raw fish, but Jack found he didn’t care. The kiss left him lightheaded and a little dizzy; he leaned against the wall as Brock licked from his lips to his neck. He remembered Brock’s sharp fangs, realized how close they were to his artery, but he didn’t care. Brock could bite and eat his flesh, and he wouldn’t care.

It dawned on him Brock’s saliva must have contained some drugs that made him so accepting of the possibility of being eaten. How fascinating. He closed his eyes, grabbed a fistful of Brock’s silky hair, and fully indulged himself in the feeling of Brock’s tongue on his skin. Brock sucked in a bit of his flesh, grazed it with his sharp teeth, and moaned. He moved away from Jack’s neck, and Jack’s breath hitched when he bit into his arm. He felt blood run down his skin, but the pain was dulled by whatever was in Brock’s saliva. His eyes hooded, he calmly watched Brock bite off a chunk of his flesh. Brock purred as he chewed, and Jack wiped the blood trickling down his chin.

Brock smiled. “Tasty,” he purred, planted a big, wet kiss on Jack’s cheek, and walked out of the lab.

Jack let out a breath and, feeling a rush of weakness, he slid down the wall onto the floor. His arm throbbed softly, his skin burned where Brock gave him a hickey.

His life had always been exciting, but it just became downright crazy.

#rumrollinsweek2020 #hydra husbands #brock rumlow #jack rollins #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #arnim zola #my writing #mermay

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talpup · 4 years

Text

Erase the Shadow:21

Summary: Despite sharing dreams with Teris for as long as he can remember, Aizawa Shouta never believed in soulmates. That was until he met Teris in the real world on his first day at UA. Trouble is, Teris doesn’t know anything about their shared dreams. And the one time Shouta tried to tell her, he nearly lost her completely.

Five years after graduating from UA, Shouta still believes Teris is his soulmate. But things have only gotten worse. Teris moved to another town shortly after graduation. And now she’s dating his best friend Yamada Hizashi.

Please remember, this fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers. For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

21.1

Excited to have Teris back after three long days, Shouta greeted her and Hizashi at the door.

“--back in town. I can’t meet today. But I can go in tomorrow.” Teris gave Shouta a quick passing peck on the lips, nodding at whoever she was on the phone with.

Shouta's head turned, eyes following her.

Hizashi smirked at his friend's clear disappointment at their girls greeting. “Detective called with new information about a case she’s working on. Wanted to meet up with her. I told her she should go on. That you’d understand.” He pulled off his jacket and tossed it over one of the suitcases. “You would understand. Wouldn’t you, Shou?”

Shouta pulled his gaze away from Teris. “Of course.”

“I mean it’s not like I didn’t send you that little something to help you through your dry spell.”

Shouta glanced from Hizashi to Teris. So she hadn’t asked Hizashi to send him the video. That was both a relief and disappointment.

Hizashi’s eyes filled with false concern. “You did get that vid I sent. Didn’t you?”

Shouta swallowed, mouth suddenly dry at the remembered images. He wanted to make Teris sound like that. Make her beg like that for him. He wanted to spank her as he fucked her. The thought of calling her a naughty little alley cat as he did so had blood rushing straight to his cock. Would she let him spank her if he asked? She had let Hizashi.

“I mean you never replied your thanks. So, did you get it?”

“Yes.” Shouta gruffed. He cleared his throat and slipped his hands in his sweatpants pockets, hoping to hide the growing erection.

Yeah you did, Hizashi thought. I not only saw you receive the vid, but open and use it. You and Teris have no idea the things I had put in this house. That’s on you. If either of you had been more interested. Paid more attention. Been a bit more involved. I never would have been able to have hidden cameras and mics put in every room. You might think you’ll get to be alone with our girl in your room, but I had eight different cameras put in there. Not only will I hear everything you say to her, but I’ll be able to see everything you do to her from any device I want. So you better be on your best behavior my friend. No tryin’ ta show me up when alone with our girl. No tryin’ ta take advantage, bad talk me, or weasel your way into being her favorite. Cause I’ll know.

Though his smile grew, Hizashi’s emerald eyes glittered with the darkness of his thoughts. He clapped Shouta on the shoulder and playfully drew out. “And? Did ya like it?”

No, Shouta thought. Kind of. Yes. He turned away, muttering softly. “A bit.”

“Wasn’t our girl beautiful?”

Shouta's eyes lifted to Teris, who was across the room, still on the phone. “She always is.”

Hizashi leaned closer to his friend, voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “Did ya jack off to it?”

Shouta’s head snapped to face Hizashi. Scowl furrowing his brow, his teeth bared in a silent snarl.

It was an expression Hizashi had seen often enough, though usually when Shouta was fighting villains as Eraserhead. Directed at him, the fearsome look gave the Voice Hero a moments pause before he pressed. “Well? Did ya?”

“Do you always have to be so crude?” Shouta dismissed, stepping away.

Hizashi's voice rose, taunting. “Yeah you did! Don’t try an’ deny it. I know you did!”

No you don’t, Shouta thought, frown tugging at the neutral line of his lips as he made his way toward Teris. You have no way of knowing anything. Just because you would’ve done it, doesn’t mean I used the video to get off.

He felt a bit sick. Not because he had used the video to seek release, hesitant as he had been about doing so; but because he was now fairly sure that Teris didn’t know Hizashi had sent the video to him.

He could have asked her; but if Teris didn’t know about it, it would have become a thing. While Hizashi deserved any anger she had at him for betraying her trust, Shouta didn’t want to chance any possible discomfort it might cause between him and her. They had been separated by so much for so long already, he didn’t want to chance any unnecessary unease or embarrassment coming between them. Even if it was only for a little while.

You could ask Hizashi, a voice inside him reasoned. And if he lies? Or worse tells the truth and confirms that Teris doesn’t know the video was sent to him? Shouta didn’t think he could live with the shame of that. Of having watched and used something she thought private. He lived with enough shame from lying to dream Teris about never finding her in the waking world. Never mind the shame he felt about not telling Teris about their shared dreams and being soulmates.

Soon, he thought. He would tell her soon. ...Someday ...Eventually. He’d tell her eventually. When he was sure she wouldn’t think he was lying or crazy, and try to leave him.

Shouta stopped behind her, arms wrapping around her as soon as she hung up.

Teris jumped a bit, then relaxed in his embrace. Her head fell back against his shoulder, back pressing into the strong, warmth of his chest. “Sorry. I wanted to give you a better greeting.”

“You still can.” Shouta hummed, feeling truly at home for the first time in three days. It didn’t matter where they were, she was his home. He rested his chin on her shoulder, head turning to kiss her neck. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Ravennnn—” The pet name ended in a moaning sigh. Her hands slid over his enveloping arms, ass pushing back against the grinding cock that had caused the sigh.

Shouta nuzzled deeper into her neck, delighted when her head tilted, affording him better access. Damn Hizashi and the video he had sent. It had both enticed and irritated. Had him both loving and hating it. As much as he had enjoyed it, he had detested it, and himself for jacking off to it. The sense of relaxed release he had had after cumming had been short lived and left him wanting Teris all the more.

“I missed you.” Shouta said again, nipping at the line of her jaw, strong arms holding her tighter.

“I—“

“You sure you don’t have to go meet that Detective, Baby?” Hizashi’s question cut off whatever she was going to say and reminded them that that they weren’t alone.

Shouta groaned. He didn’t want to share. Especially not now. Hizashi had had her for three days. If anyone should be leaving to meet someone it should be Hizashi, so he and Teris could have some time alone.

Hizashi stopped in front of Teris, schooling his expression to hide the hope he felt. It wasn’t that he wanted his girl to leave. Having to share her with Shouta made sharing her with anything else increasingly difficult. He had already wanted her to cut down her patrol hours long before Shouta was allowed into the mix. But now with Shouta not just with Teris but living with them, he would be happy if she quit being a pro hero entirely. He couldn’t imagine how much harder it would be to share her with Shouta, her jobs and life once school started back up.

That said, a part of him would rather her leave to meet the Detective than let Shouta have at her. It was petty. More than that, it was foolish. It wouldn’t change anything. Just delay and make the two more desirous. But it would make Shouta wait, he thought. Show him that Teris had more important things than being with him. It would sting. And why do you want Shouta to hurt? He’s your best friend. You’re the one that opened the relationship to let Shouta share in her. Only because I didn’t want to lose her! It’s done. Get over it. There’s no going back.

Teris’ fingers intertwined with Shouta's. “It’s not important. It can wait.”

Hizashi's smile tightened a fraction. He understood what she really meant by that. That being with Shouta was more important. He chastised himself for being so possessive. How was it that sharing her with Shouta had become harder, not easier? He blamed it on the three day weekend he had alone with her. Other than her texting and talking to Shouta, and her calling herself theirs instead of his that one time during sex, it had felt like she was his and his alone again.

Hizashi stepped closer, pressing up against her front.

Shouta gave a low growl of wanting. His arms released from around her waist, hands gripping her dancing hips, holding her still. He pressed against her back, caging her between his and Hizashi's bodies.

Hizashi grinned into the kiss he gave her, rocking against her front while Shouta lazily ground against her ass.

It was moments like this that gave Hizashi hope that he would get over it and be able make this work. And he really wanted, needed the shared relationship to work. It was currently the only way he could be sure of keeping Teris.

In a perfect world, Shouta could've been brought in on the odd night to help wreck her and leave soon after with no change or growing attachment between his best friend and girlfriend. But this wasn’t a perfect world. Certainly not his perfect world. Shouta and Teris were more than attached to each other. They loved each other. And his friend wouldn’t be leaving after their fun; instead staying and living here.

The thought of how quickly Teris had accepted Shouta when he and Teris had spent two years doing the long distance thing made Hizashi insanely jealous. But he didn’t want to be jealous of his best friend. He wanted Shouta to be happy. It was just a shame that Shouta's happiness came from Teris.

It is what it is, Hizashi thought, nibbling at Teris’ lip. Suck it up. Fake it till you make it. Make them believe you’re totally cool with sharing and eventually you’ll believe it yourself. Heck maybe Shouta secretly hates Teris spending time on other things too and can help talk her around to quitting. She could be their perfect little stay at home darling. Their beautiful girl that only they could love and hold. His sweet little songbird that only he could see and hear.

The thought had Hizashi smiling as he broke the kiss and stepped back, tugging at her hand. “Why don’t we move this to the bedroom? I’ll let you show Shou just how much you missed him.” Green eyes flicked over to his friend. “You’d like that. Wouldn’t you, Shou? Bet you missed our girl.”

“Yes.” Shouta rasped. He pulled Teris back against him, letting her feel just how much he missed her. Wanted her.

Hizashi's smile grew. “Bet you’d appreciate first turn. Wouldn’t ya, Buddy?”

Shouta hummed, basking in the feel of his Love. He would never get enough of her soft touch. His muscles jerked in delight as her hands caressed up his arms and reached back to grip his shoulder. Pressing his straining erection against her ass, Shouta nibbled her ear. “I missed you. I need you.”

Teris shivered at his low, graveled voice as much as from his words. “Shou…”

Hizashi was back on her, hands gripping her waist.

Teris whined into the blonde’s mouth, Hizashi's fingers digging into her tender flesh.

Shouta felt Hizashi's hands brush his, seeking to claim her hips. But Shouta held her firm, pulling her back against him. Hizashi had had his time to touch her all he wanted. He had had three days with her, while Shouta had gone without.

Shouta stepped back, pulling Teris with him.

Hizashi's hand fell away from her, their kiss rudely broken. “Hey!”

“Bedroom. Now.” Shouta spun Teris around.

Teris squeaked as she was lifted off the floor.

“I got you.”

True as Shouta's words were, her legs and arms wrapped around him. Teris pulled his loose hair back and attacked his neck.

Shouta's steps staggered to the side under the delectable assault. “Fuck. Kitten.”

“Watch it, Wren. You’re gonna make Shouta cum on the spot.” Hizashi chuckled.

“Shut up and lead the way.” Shouta ordered, moving through the living room and large open kitchen.

“Think you can make it to the bedroom, Shou?”

“Just--” Shouta jerked, turning Teris to shield her from… He relaxed, realizing it was their reflection in the wall of floor to ceiling windows that lined the hall.

“Jumpy.” Hizashi snickered.

Shouta scowled. How his friend thought it a good idea to put an open air garden atrium in the center of their home was beyond him. Hizashi had called it a necessity since their house, built within the great warehouse, didn’t have windows to the outside.

Shouta had insisted upon that for safety. Their home admittedly in a rather bad area of town. If they needed fresh air or sun they could go for a walk or up to the roof. They didn’t need some extravagant garden courtyard in the middle of their home.

Hizashi's eyes widened as if he came up with the best idea. “Hey! You wanna do it outside?”

“What!” Teris pulled up off Shouta, turning in his arms to look at Hizashi.

“No.” Shouta stated. They were almost at the door to his and Teris’ room. His eyes darted over to it. But as badly as he wanted to break in their bed, he didn’t want to share that with Hizashi. That was his and Teris’ space. And this time wasn’t his and Teris’ alone.

“Aw! Come on! It’s not like anyone will see us. It’s even safer than doing it in a backyard or balcony.”

Shouta's eyes narrowed. He glanced at Teris, holding her tighter. “Who’s done it in those places?”

Hizashi raised his hand and wiggled his fingers.

“Both places?” Teris squirmed in Shouta's hold. It felt weird being carried when the moment had been broken.

Before Shouta realized what he was doing, he spanked her for wriggle. “Hold still.”

Hizashi's eyes took on a ravenous edge.

Teris yipped.

“I…” Shouta held her closer, worried she would push away, angry at what he’d done. “I’m sorry. I don’t--”

“Don’t apologize, Shou. Our girl likes to be put in her place.” Hizashi stepped up behind her, slapping her firmly on the ass.

Teris squeaked, hips jerking forward. She groaned, when met with Shouta's hard body and rubbed up against him.

Shouta growled in response.

“Though you do gotta earn her submission, just like you gotta earn everything else from her.” Hizashi went on, caressing her behind. “Isn’t that right, Baby.”

The sound of Hizashi's next spank echoed through the hallway.

The sharp sound and Teris’ resulting rutting had Shouta’s hips giving a single thrust into the air. He needed to be in her. Now. He had gone three days without her and her touch. You had gone years without before, he thought deprecating his lack of control.

“Zashi. Move before you get left out.”

Hizashi hardly needed to followed Shouta's dark gaze to the door of Shouta's bedroom to understand what the man meant. His own eyes hardened at the threat. Like hell Shouta was having their girl alone, especially not with what he was working Shouta and Teris towards.

Gritting his teeth, Hizashi swallowed the sharp retort that was on the tip of his tongue. It wouldn’t do his cause any favors if he reacted to Shouta's threat. With a tight smile, he spun around. But instead of walking to the shared bedroom, he opened the glass door to the atrium.

“No.” Shouta told.

“Come on. It’ll be fun. I promise. Don’t you wanna give our girl a romantic time? I swear the patio furniture is sturdy enough.”

Shouta paused, remembering what Hizashi had just said about earning Teris’ submission along with everything else. He wasn’t all that great with romance. What if Hizashi had picked up on his lacking ways and was trying to help him? Maybe Teris had mentioned something to Hizashi over the weekend about his lacking romance. It wasn’t as if she had said no to Hizashi's question about doing it outside. So maybe she actually wanted to do it out there.

Reading Shouta's thoughts, Hizashi smiled at his friend. “Our girl deserves the be swept off her feet. And not just literally. What do you say, Shou? What could be more romantic than doing it under the stars? Do you really wanna deny our girl that?”

Teris began to shake her head. “Za--”

Hizashi's hand slid down Teris’ ass and up between her legs, fingers drumming against her covered crotch. “Not now, Baby. I’m tryin’ ta help Shouta out.”

That wasn’t exactly true. Hizashi just wanted to do it outside. Teris had always been against fucking on his balcony, too afraid someone might see. But there was no chance of anyone seeing here. And if he didn’t give Shouta and Teris a chance to realize they were both against it, then Shouta would agree and Teris would follow along. It wasn’t as if they wouldn’t enjoy it.

Wanting to give Teris whatever she wanted, Shouta stepped through the open door out into the fresh night air. It wasn’t as if anyone would be able to see them, he reasoned slowly setting her down. Surrounded by the house and warehouse, the only view they had was of the sky above. He supposed it could be considered somewhat romantic, even if the lights of Musutafu meant that most of the stars were blotted out.

Teris clung to the front of his shirt, still unsure even if it seem that Shouta was willing. “Shou--”

Hizashi spun her around, lips silencing her. He stepped her back against Shouta, hand trailing down her stomach and between her legs.

Teris groaned into Hizashi's mouth, all argument falling away. Though outside, there was no way anyone could see. It’s like any other room in the house, she comforted herself. A room that’s notably cooler than the rest of the house, she thought shivering from the chill night air.

Her hand reached around, grabbing the fabric of Shouta's sweatpants and pulling him closer, seeking his warmth and touch.

That was all the encouragement Shouta needed. He gripped her hips, his cock, which had started to soften, stirring as he pressed against her. He sucked at her neck, hands exploring her body. The body he had desperately missed these past three days.

“Fuck, I missed you.” Shouta groaned.

Teris broke the kiss with Hizashi and turned to Shouta. “I missed you too.”

Calloused hand cupping her cheek, Shouta turned her face to him.

Teris eagerly met his lips, mouth opening to accept his tongue. She pulled at Hizashi shirt, her other hand running up his chest.

The contact did little to console him. She had been with him for the long weekend. Why would she miss Shouta? Wasn’t he enough? You already know the answer to that, a inner voice thought bitterly. Of course you’re not enough. If you were enough you wouldn’t be sharing her with Shouta.

Hizashi bit at the puckered nipple through her shirt, roughly pinching the other.

Gasping, Teris pulled away from Shouta's hungry mouth. “Zashiiii!”

Green eyes gleaming devilishly, Hizashi tongued the pebble, wetting the fabric of her shirt and bra.

Her hips rocked when the muscle vibrated against her clothed nipple.

Shouta frowned. He would never be able to do that. Did that mean that he would never be able to make her feel as good as Hizashi did?

Hizashi pulled off her with one last toothy nibble. “You like that, Baby?” His hand roamed under her shirt, thumbing her nipple. “No one can make you feel like that but me. I’m your human vibrator, Babe.”

He moved to kiss her but was rudely halted by Shouta pulling her shirt up over her head.

Hizashi chuckled at the passive aggressive move. “Must be really eager, Shou. Think you can get her bra off without problem this time?”

Shouta smirked at Hizashi's friendly challenge. They both knew he could do so without issue. That he had done so several times since that first night. Not wanting to be embarrassed and bested by a piece of fabric ever again, Shouta had secretly taken one of Teris’ bras and practiced taking the confounded thing off a pillow until he could do it one handed without looking.

“Think you could get her pants off quicker?” Shouta taunted.

“Guys--” Teris’ complaint ended in a squeak.

Hizashi's hands drove to the belt of her pants. Shouta's finger hooked beneath her bra strap, two others pinching the fastened ends together.

“Done.”

“No fair! You didn’t even have to take of her shirt.” Hizashi gestured to the undone bra. “You didn’t even take the thing off!”

“Fine.” Shouta sighed, kissing Teris’ shoulder as he slipped it off.

Hizashi watched the reveal of her breast. Damn, it never got old.

“Still won.” Shouta played.

“Ass.” Hizashi grumbled.

“Fine. I want my Kitten’s front anyway.” Hands on her hips, Shouta spun Teris around.

Met with Shouta's lustful gaze, Teris’ breath caught.

“That’s not what--” Hizashi stopped, eyes trailing down to the curved mound of Teris’ ass.

Damn he wanted to tap that ass. But now wasn’t the time to push. Shouta would invariably back her when she argued against giving him what he knew they’d both enjoy. It burned how she didn’t trust him enough to let him have his way. And as far as he was concerned, her continued discomfort and nervous denial to trying anal was nothing more than a lack of trust in him. It was as if she doubted he’d be gentle. That she didn’t think that she and her pleasure were the most important thing to him. Hizashi knew that she would like it. But she didn’t trust him enough to give it a chance.

Hand on the back of his neck, Teris pulled Shouta to her level. “You and Zashi need need to treat me like a person, not a fuck toy to be used and talked about.”

Shouta's eyes widened. His mouth opened to tell her that wasn’t what he’d been doing but Hizashi's sultry voice spoke first.

“What’s that, Baby? You wanna be our fuck toy? Tossed around and used.” He grinned wickedly, wild forest eyes dancing.

Shouta's dick twitched in his sweatpants, the idea causing pre-cum to dribble out. Excited as he had been for his Love’s arrival, her absence had put him in a depressive mood. As such he hadn’t cared enough to mess with underwear. So the pre immediately formed a blossoming wet spot on the sweatpants.

Teris looked over her shoulder at the blonde. “You’re so dirty, Zashi.”

“That isn’t an answer, Beautiful.” Hizashi nuzzled closer, hands reached around to finish undoing her belt. He rocked his aching erection against her ass and popped the button of her jeans open.

“Maybe later, Sunshine.” She turned back to Shouta hoping her answer didn’t disappoint.

Shouta kissed her. He palmed her breast, other hand gliding up her neck to cup her face. “I love you.”

His tongue pushed into her mouth silenced her reply.

Hizashi pulled down her zipper, hand sliding inside her underwear. He groaned, fingers getting soaked on both sides, her juices having wicked through her panties, drenching them.

“Damn, Baby, your pussy’s droolin’ for us.” Hizashi muttered against her neck.

Shouta moved from her lips to the other side of her neck. “You want Zashi to finger you open to take my cock, Kitten?”

“Please.” Teris moaned, hips rocking against Hizashi's hand.

Hizashi looked at Shouta in surprise. “You serious?”

Shouta turned to his friend. He was sorry for every jealous, unkind thought he had had about Hizashi before and after getting with Teris. The point of them sharing was to spare their friendship. To make sure Teris and the both of them were happy. But none of them would be happy if he continued to feel a romantic rivalry with his best friend. With Teris being his soulmate, meant for him alone, acceptance of her and Hizashi would be difficult. He would undoubtedly fail numerous times before he grew accustomed to sharing her with Hizashi. But for all of their sake's he had to try. And the sooner he put in the effort to change his jealous ways, the better.

“This is about making us all happy.” Shouta told, looking from Teris to Hizashi and back. He gave her a tender smile. “I want you—all of us to be happy.”

Teris’ couldn’t explain why she got so emotional hearing him say that. Though they were all still figuring this out, it wasn’t as if Shouta and Hizashi were having private fights about it. After all Hizashi was the one who suggested this shared relationship, and Shouta had readily agreed. If either man had had a problem with sharing, they wouldn’t have done that. It made her all the more grateful for them; because she was a coward and really didn’t want to mess with the trouble her love for the both of them could have wrought. She would’ve sooner left Musutafu than have to choose and chance breaking up the guys friendship.

“So do I.” Teris told, clutching at Shouta's shirt. “I want you both to be happy. You and Zashi deserve so much more than I could ever give.”

“We could say the same for you, Ris. You deserve all we can give and more.”

Hizashi watched Shouta tenderly kiss her. His eye twitched at his friends words. Shouta was trying to win Teris’ favor. Trying to earn points for acting as if he was willing and eager to share. He could be serious, an inner voice thought. You really think his motives are pure? He scoffed at himself. If Shouta really cared about anything more than his own wants he would've backed off and left my girl alone. Instead I had to offer to share because selfish Shouta was more concerned about his own happiness than mine.

Shouta gave Teris another chaste kiss. He brushed his nose with hers then pulled back to look at Hizashi. “This is a shared relationship. So long as I get it wet first this time, we should do our best to properly share and give Teris the utmost pleasure. Don’t you think?”

You think I couldn’t wreck our girl without you? Hizashi thought, bristling at the perceived slight. That’s not what he means, another side thought. You need to stop thinking the worst. Not everyone's like you.

“Let’s rock our girls world!” Hizashi beamed at his friend.

As if of one mind, Shouta bend and grabbed Teris’ legs. Hizashi hooked his arms under Teris’.

Lifted off the brick cobbled floor, Teris squealed and squirmed.

Able to contain and carry her legs in one strong arm, Shouta’s other hand smacked her ass. “Settle down.”

Teris shivered, legs squeezing even tighter together in Shouta’s firm hold.

Shouta looked down at her, following Hizashi's lead to what he hoped was a comfortable and sturdy piece of patio furniture. “Be good and I’ll let you suck me while Zashi prepares that pretty pussy of yours to take my fat cock.” He smirked at Teris’ mewling moan. “You’d like that. Wouldn’t you, Kitten? Sucking me while Zashi fingers and eats you out.”

She bit her lower lip and nodded.

“Use your words. I want to hear you.”

“Yes.” Teris breathed.

“Good girl.” Shouta set her down, hands panning up her inner thighs. He wanted to stay there and tease her himself, but he wasn’t alone with Teris and had already made the decision to try and share better.

Hizashi patted an excited beat into Shouta's back, urging his friend out of the way. If Shouta wanted to hear her, then he would make their girl scream. He would make Teris so high and wrecked from just his mouth and fingers that Shouta’s cock would be nothing to her.

Shouta stepped back, watching Hizashi kiss her. He eyed the cushioned furniture Teris was sitting on. “How strong is that lounge?”

“We’ll break her before we break it.” Hizashi said, tugging off her pants.

“Br—break what?”

Hizashi chuckled at Teris’ wide-eyed expression. “I’m playin’, Babe. We won’t break you… much.”

“Zashi!” Teris exclaimed.

“It’ll hold if I stand on it?”

Hizashi looked back at Shouta. “Yeah. What da ya have in--” A slow grin crept upon his face. “Oh, yeah!”

“What?” Teris looked between the two. “Oh, yeah what? What are we doing?”

“We’re not doin’ anything, Babe. You’re gonna be a good little Wren and sit back— Actually, you’re gonna sit up and take what Shou and I give you.”

“You think you can handle that, Kitten?” Shouta pulled off his shirt.

Nervous as she was, not knowing what they had planned, Teris trusted her guys implicitly. She also wasn’t one to back down from a taunting challenge. It was odd how Shouta knew how to taunt and challenge just enough. Where Hizashi, who she had been with for three years, still went too far or not far enough.

She leaned back, lifting her hips to pull down her own pants and underwear, then sat back up. “I can handle whatever you guys got.”

“Fuck…”

Though silent, Shouta echoed Hizashi's sentiments. He stared at Teris, captivated by the sight of her. He both wanted to make tender love to her, and fuck her so hard that they broke the patio furniture no matter how sturdy it was.

Hizashi palmed his erection through his pants. “Baby, we’re gonna make you feel so good.”

Shouta was back by Hizashi side. “You’re sure it’ll hold?”

“Totally sure! I did my homework, Shou. All our stuff will hold up. Even the bar stools and tables. Everything we got will take our fuckin’ and keep on truckin’. But…”

Shouta and Teris looked at him, speaking in stereo. “But what?”

“Don’t you wanna take those off.” Hizashi could already imagine his friend falling off the lounge and cracking his head open because the sweatpants had fallen and tripped him up.

At least you’d have Teris to yourself again, part of him thought in dark humor. That’s not even funny! Stop that! He scolded himself. He didn’t want Shouta hurt. He just wanted him out of the picture.

Shouta cleared his throat, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “I was trying not to leave you looking at my ass.”

Teris’ eyes widened finally piecing together what the two had planned.

“Really? You think I’ll be looking up when I’ll have my face in such a pretty sight as this?” Hizashi ran his fingers through Teris’ slick folds, chuckling when her legs tried to snap shut. “Take ‘em off, man. Don’t need you bustin’ both heads open tonight.”

With that allowance, Shouta hooked his thumbs the waistband and pulled the sweatpants down. His cock sprung free. Shouta hissed more from the cool night air hitting his heated skin than the relieving freedom. Goose-flesh erupted over his skin.

Hands wrapping behind her knees, Hizashi pulled Teris so her hips were closer to the cushions edge. His fingers crawled up her leg, making her skin prickle.

Shouta stepped to the side of the lounge, kneeling on it to test it’s surface and kiss his Love. He groaned when her tongue slipped into his mouth.

One hand carding through Hizashi's silken hair, Teris’ other hand threaded through Shouta's wavy locks. Her nails scrapped lightly against his scalp, making him shiver. And he had the nerve to say she was so easy for him. Hizashi had his own spots and treatment that delighted him; but she was still figuring those out even after three years. It was another one of those odd things. And not just because of the amount of time she had been with Hizashi verse Shouta.

Shouta was more stoic. He hid a lot of his thoughts and emotions. Yet she could read him as if she had been doing so her entire life. She just seemed to get and understand Shouta. Where as, as open and honest as Hizashi was, she still struggled.

Shouta pulled away from her lips before he lost himself. He stood and smiled down at her. “You ready to work that pretty mouth on me?”

Teris’ mouth pooled with eager saliva. She glanced down at Shouta's ruddy cock, her jaw aching at the thought of opening wide enough to take him. “Ye—ah! Za—ah!”

Teris tugged at Hizashi's hair, hips rutting up to his vibrating tongue.

Shouta tamped down his agitation at the interruption. It’s not as if Hizashi did it on purpose, he told himself. This was just part of sharing. Sharing sucks, he thought, trying not to pout. He pet back Teris’ hair, reminding himself, sharing is what he agreed to. You need to have thoughts that will help you get use to it, not make you bitter.

Hizashi smirked against Teris. If Shouta thought he could run the show, he had another thing coming. He had been with Teris for years. He knew just how to make her come apart. So did Shouta, Hizashi thought. Even that first night, Shouta knew just how to-- His tongue flick too hard, the frequency changing.

Teris gave an uncomfortable hiss, hand pulling at his hair as her hips rolled back.

Focus, Hizashi chastised himself. He kissed her clit in apology, tongue moving to dip into her wet heat.

Shouta stepped onto the edge of the lounge, feet planting to either side of her.

Teris looked up at him, breath catching in her lungs. She had been on her knees with him before, but this… This somehow made him seem all the more powerful. Maybe it was the endless sky above him. Either way, his power wasn’t the only thing that escalated in this position. Her body heated tenfold and she hadn’t even touched him.

One hand around the base of his cock, the other smoothing through her hair, Shouta looked down at her. Just the sight of her. Wide-eyed and eager. Practically drooling. It had him twitching in his hand.

Teris hands lifted.

“Keep those down.” Shouta told.

Though disappointed, Teris lowered her hands.

“I’ll tell you when you can touch me.”

Teris whined, hips wiggling in Hizashi's face.

Hizashi pulled off her, fingers filling her quivering cunt as he lapped around his mouth. “Damn, Shou! That’s some real dom stuff there.”

“I…” Shouta looked down at Teris. Sure he wanted to dominate her in bed but that wasn’t the reason he didn’t want her touching him. Three days was a long time to go without. Whatever restraint he had built up since they first got together was surely undone by her time away. He didn’t want her touching him because he did want to cum too soon.

“Shouta. Please.” Teris leaned slightly forward, but not enough to take him to mouth.

“Good thing she likes to be told what to do.” Hizashi told curling his fingers and nosing her clit.

In a mix of sullen pride, Hizashi went on thinking, don’t know what you did to earn her submission but enjoy it.

Shouta groaned, hips moving forward. The weeping head of his cock glided over her shining parted lips.

Teris’ tongue leaked out, wanting to lick her lips and taste him.

“Not yet, Kitten. Stay just like that.”

Teris whined, struggling to hold back and obey. She gasped, hips rocking when Hizashi continually graze the spot inside her. They were both teasing her and it was such delightful torment.

“So pretty.” Shouta murmured, caressing her cheek. “My beautiful Kitty Cat.”

Teris melted at being called his. It was weird. She put up with but didn’t like Hizashi called her his. Something about it put her guard up. She had thought it was just the way she was. That she was just too proud and independent. But she quickly learned that wasn’t the case the first time Shouta called her his.

“Such a good girl. Lick your lips and have your treat.” Shouta watched her tongue dart over her lips.

Hizashi added a third finger and sucked harshly at her clit.

Teris jumped nearly biting her tongue. “Ah! Zas--”

Shouta wanted to bark at his friend to be nice, but kept his peace. “Ready to have at me, Kitten?”

Eyes trained on his bobbing cock, Teris nodded.

“Words, Ris. Let me hear you.”

“Yes.” Teris breathed, dancing against Hizashi's face.

“Good girl.” Shouta moved closer to her face. “Lick it for me.”

Teris licked up the underside. The tip of her tongue flicked against the slit. She moaned, the taste of Shouta's pre-cum exploding across her tongue, overwhelming her senses.

Shouta pet through her hair. “Good girl. So sweet and perfect for me.” He pressed the head of his cock between her lips. “Suck.”

Teris moved to take more of him in, mouth opening wide. But she was stopped when Shouta’s hand fisted in her hair.

“I’ll tell you when to move. Just suck the tip for me.”

Teris whined, grinding against Hizashi, who’s vibrating tongue brought her to the edge and stopped, just to edge her again. Her lips closed around the head of Shouta’s cock.

Shouta sighed, fingers loosening in Teris’ hair. “That’s a good girl. Hollow those cheeks.”

Teris did, tongue brushing against him.

“Fuck!” Shouta's hips thrust forward.

Teris was ready. She took more of him in, humming around his length.

Shouta huffed and tapped her cheek. “Naughty Minx. You’ll pay for that.”

Teris hummed again, though whether in pleasure or challenge of what Shouta said, even she couldn’t say.

“You want at me that bad, Kitten?”

Teris looked up, giving him her sweetest, most innocent expression, and nodded as best she could.

Shouta's dick twitched in her hot mouth. “Fuck. Then have at me.” His hand tightened in her hair once again.

She whined in complaint when his hold stopped her from moving.

“When I tell you to stop. You stop. Hear me?”

Teris blinked up at him.

It wasn’t much of an agreement. Hell it wasn’t even one. But Shouta’s control was slipping, and rather than let that show, he released her hair.

Hizashi was in heaven, or at least he would've been if Shouta was there. He could feast on Teris for hours. The only thing he liked more than going down on her was her going down on him. Turning her into a drooling, tear stained mess as he fucked her face was his favorite thing in the world. He loved hearing her gurgle and gag around his cock. Feeling of her throat spam around him. Watching her wide, wild eyes when her air was cut off. There was nothing better than the feeling of holding his sweet girls life in his hands…

Hizashi groaned against her dripping cunt. The taste and feel of her mixing with the thoughts of the last time she choked on his cock. His hand dipped to undo his belt and pants. He sighed in relief. Though his pants weren’t half as tight as his hero costume they were still snug enough to make his hard cock ache.

“Damn, Baby. You taste so good. I wanna keep you like this forever.” Hizashi wrapped his lips around her clit, tongue pulsing against the little bud.

Teris made a strangled noise around Shouta's cock.

Shouta groaned, driving deeper into her mouth. The wet, lewd sound of her sucking mixed with that of Hizashi working her sopping cunt. She was so aroused, he could smell her. Shouta swallowed, the pool of saliva wanting to taste her.

A breeze stirred within the confines of their hidden sanctuary. The once chill air now welcomed, cooling Shouta's heated skin. “Fuck. Zashi. If you don’t make Teris cum now, you’ll have to wait.”

Hizashi turned his growl into a groan. Where the hell did Shouta get off telling him his time was up?

“Kitten, stop.” Shouta spoke with such authority that Hizashi lifted his head.

Teris’ head continued to bob. She wanted Shouta cumming in her mouth.

“Shi--” Shouta’s fingers buried through the roots of her hair, holding her still.

Teris sucked all the harder when his hips moved back.

“Fuck!” With a loud pop, Shouta pulled free. He panted above her.

Full breaths making her chest heave, Teris smiled. Her eyes fell close. Tongue rolling around her mouth, she basked in the dribble of pre-cum her stubborn efforts had wrought.

Shouta wrenched her head back to better look at her. He had to force down a smile. She looked so blissed out and proud of herself. Like the cat the got the cream. Which was insanely hot since she had only gotten a sampling. “You look rather pleased with yourself.”

Teris hummed her contentment and nodded.

Hizashi got to his feet.

Shouta stepped down and stood between her legs. Her expression looked so similar to the one she had in their dreams when he had talked her through her orgasm. He lifted her chin, thumb brushing over swollen, wet lips. “Such a pretty Kitty Cat. Let’s see if I can please you half as well as you’ve pleased yourself.”

She sucked in a breath, eyes fluttering open.

Hizashi tried not to glower. What did Shouta think he’d been doing all this time! Sitting on the sidelines? Even though he had said he’d let Shouta have first turn, Hizashi was tempted to push his friend out of the way and take his girl for himself. It was bad enough that he had wound her up so tight, edging her. Shouta would probably think he was the sole reason she would cum so hard. He never should've stopped. He should have stood his ground until he was finished and Teris came on his tongue. That’s what you get for trying to be nice and share, he thought.

Shouta smirked down at Teris. Leaning, he kissed her, groaning at the mild taste of himself. Unable to help himself, his fingers swiped slowly through her folds. “Damn, Kitten. You’re so wet.”

He straightened and lifted his hand, sucking his fingers clean.

Teris shivered, moan louder than Shouta's low hum. She licked her lips, watching his eyes roll back.

Shouta licked between his fingers, reveling in her delectable slick. He pulled his fingers free and wrapped his hand around himself, giving a few lose fisted pumps. The saliva of his fingers mixed with hers left on his cock. “Scoot back a bit, Ris.”

Teris rushed to comply.

Shouta chuckled at her haste.

Hizashi rolled his eyes. He roughly pulled off his shirt. As pent up as Shouta was, his friend wouldn’t take long.

Shouta knelt between her legs. He propped himself over her.

Teris pulled him down into a tongued kiss. “I missed you, Raven.”

Shouta trembled at the vehemence of her voice. He rutted his cock through her sopping folds and kissed her. “I missed you too, Kitten. I--”

He stopped, Adam’s apple bobbing in a rough swallow. He had been about to say that he didn’t want to be apart from her ever again. And while he would rather never be apart, it was an irrational thing to want. They would invariably have time away from each other. Even if she never spent another long weekend away with Hizashi, which she surely would, there would unfortunately be other things that took her or him away.

Teris looked up at him, thinking he had been about to say he loved her. His pause made her wonder since he had never struggled with saying so before. Whatever he stopped himself from saying seemed to trouble him. Seeking to ease him, she tucked his hair behind an ear and smoothed his furrowed brow. “I love you, Shouta. More than I could ever express.”

Shouta smiled softly down at her. “I love you too, Teris.”

He wanted so badly to tell her how long he had loved her and she him. How connected they truly were. That they were soulmates. But now was hardly the time or place. When he finally did tell her, they would be alone, without Hizashi present.

Taking himself to hand, he lined himself up and slowly pushed in.

Teris’ legs quivered around his hips, her willing body opening to him.

Shouta groaned at her wet enveloping heat, her velvety walls a second skin. Seated to the hilt, he pressed his forehead to hers, giving them a moment to adjust. His dark eyes stared into her lust blown pupils. “You’re beautiful.”

“Shou… Please.”

He smirked at her needy whine. “You ready for me to move, Kitten?”

“Yes! Shouta, please.”

Shouta made to pull back his hips and stopped. Teris whined, but he hadn’t done it to tease. “You and I really need to talk about boundaries.”

“Boundaries?”

Shouta cursed himself, Teris’ tone telling him he had said it all wrong. Seeking to explain he told. “Sexual boundaries. What you’re comfortable with.”

Teris smiled in relief. For a moment she had been scared she’d crossed a line and upset him. “What would you like to do to me, Raven?”

Shouta shook his head. “Later.”

Knowing he wouldn't have brought it up now unless there was something he wanted to do, Teris guessed. “Do you wanna spank me, Shou?”

Shouta felt his face and ears heat. His dick twitched inside her.

Teris’ arms looped around his neck. “Spank me, Master.”

Shouta's hips pulled back and sharply rushed forward.

Teris moaned at the harsh, hard thrust.

Shouta's gaze panned over her breast, perfectly displayed by her arched back. He growled, at the sight of the numerous marks Hizashi had littered her with. A possessive fire ignited. He rocked roughly into her, wanting to reclaim her.

It was a possessive urge that he didn’t like in himself. Not only because Teris wouldn’t appreciate it; but because it wasn’t healthy. He and Hizashi had agreed to share. There was no need to be jealous of his best friend. Especially not when he would get his chance to spend his own three days alone with her.

Shouta lowered further and kissed her. “You want me to treat you like an ally cat?”

Teris clawed at his back. “Fu—ah! Yes!”

The three of them having used a safeword before, Shouta asked for her benefit, wanting the word fresh in her mind should she need it. “What’s that safeword, Kitten? Tell me?”

“Ba—baka.”

Shouta pulled back and slammed in. “Again. This time without stuttering.”

“Baka!”

“Good girl.” He cooed, kissing her parted lips. He rose to his knees, keeping his pull back long and slow, and thrusts sharp and hard. “You know spanking isn’t the only way to discipline a naughty kitten. But if you want it. I’ll gladly leave my mark.” His hand came down on the back of her thigh.

Shouta's entire body thrummed at the loud, sharp crack and her screamed moan. His hips staggered when she squeezed impossible tighter around him.

Teris jumped, body rolling, the quick flare of pain giving way to heightened pleasure.

“Liked that?”

“Yes.” Teris breathed.

“You’re not suppose to enjoy your punishment so much. Maybe I should stop.”

“No! Please! Don’t stop!”

“Fuck!” Shouta groaned halting his thrusts. Feeling her enjoyment as she spammed around him while he spanked her was a test enough of his control. But having her all but beg for him to spank her was more than he could currently take.

Hizashi gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he watched. How was it that Shouta got her to all but beg for him to spank her? Teris never begged him to spank her. He turned his gaze away, sullen green eyes glancing through the wall of windows to his side of the house. Though he and Shouta had agreed their rooms were a space were they would have Teris alone, the other not able to intrude unless invited, Shouta had made him feel like an intruder here. He felt forgotten and was quickly growing bitter.

Yamada Hizashi isn’t someone you forget, he thought, shoving off his pants. He moved to Teris, roughly kissing her.

Too overwhelmed, Teris couldn’t do more than gasp around Hizashi's invading tongue. She shivered and twitched from Shouta's heavenly onslaught. Her movements and Shouta's hard thrusts making her and Hizashi’s teeth click together.

The sloppy kiss ended, Hizashi pulling back from her wet, swollen lips. “You wanna suck me off while Shouta fucks you, Baby?”

“You can do that later. I want to hear her.”

Hizashi's head snapped around to his friend. What the hell?

Shouta grimaced. He didn’t need to see Hizashi's blazing eyes to realize that his angry annoyance had colored his tone. Trying to soothe the offense, Shouta coached his voice into a less harsher tone and went on. “You got to do whatever you wanted for three days. All I want is to hear her.”

If all you want is to hear her, then let me fuck her and listen, Hizashi thought. And no! I couldn’t do whatever I wanted because our girl is too shy and doesn’t trust me enough to try curtain things. Never mind that it wasn’t three whole days. I was working most of the time. Not that you care enough to note the distinction.

Glittering eyes on Shouta, Hizashi stepped away. “I’ll wait for my turn.”

The meaning was clear. Shouta wouldn’t be touching her during Hizashi's turn. It aggravated him to no end. Why was Hizashi being such a selfish ass? It wasn’t as if Hizashi had gone three days without the love of his life. As much as Shouta hated drama and talking, they would have to talk about this. If this was to work he and Hizashi would have to communicate. They couldn’t have any feelings of jealousy toward each other. Rivalry would end their friendship just the same as if Teris had left Hizashi to be with him. But that was a matter for later. Right now…

Shouta focused his attention back on Teris. He hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and leaned down, propping himself up on a forearm.

Teris keened beautifully. The new angle had Shouta driving deeper. His thick cock dragging against her front wall with every grooving rock of his hips. Her scissored legs twitched, toes curling.

“Shou—aaahh!”

“That’s it, Kitten. Sing for me. Let me hear you.” Shouta's hips snapped against hers, the sound of their slapping skin adding to the harmony of her wet, squelching pussy, and lovely cries. He might not be as into music as Hizashi, but this was the best song ever made.

“Ra—ven! Pl—please!”

“You ready to cum for me? I can feel you quivering. Come on Ally Cat. Clamp down and cum. Let me feel you try to milk me.” Shouta's hand smacked the back of her thigh, the cracking sound far louder than the actual hit.

Like a line of domino's being toppled, a chain reaction was set off by Shouta's words and spank.

Heart drumming a rapid, heavy beat in her ears, the coil within Teris snapped. She sucked in a gasping breath, the immense wave of pleasure spiking. Like a dam being broken, hot electricity flashed through her. An enveloping darkness consumed her vision, pupils contracting. Shadows throughout the space jerked and pulled toward her. Her pupils exploded, expanding impossibly large. Condensed coils of darkness sprung from the obsidian rings on her pointer fingers. The lights in the house brightened then flickered and browned out. Her obsidian rings cracked.

Shouta and Hizashi jumped. Hizashi crouched, covering his head. Shouta shielded Teris from the shattering string of lights above them. Further glass could be heard bursting and breaking inside as light bulbs throughout the house exploded.

Teris twitched, mouth open in a scream of pleasure, the crashing wave of her orgasm just now reaching its height. The coils of darkness flared out and dissipated, her obsidian rings crumbling and falling away. Then everything went dark.

Teris laid motionless beneath Shouta.

Shouta and Hizashi were left sightless in a sudden, consuming darkness.

“What the--”

Shouta heard Hizashi’s halted question mix with the sound of distant alarms and people yelling.

Countless stars that were once blotted out by city lights, shimmered brightly in the night sky above.

Shouta might not like drama but he’s found himself in a whirlwind of it now. I wanted a change of pace from my more event focused fic ‘Chaos’, so please forgive me for not delving too deep into the whole Void and Reader/Teris’ darkness quirk. If you want something with more action and worldbuilding I suggest you check out my other fic ‘Lost Song’.

One last thing, YES. Shouta and Teris ARE both guilty of being a bit thankless and forgetful about Hizashi. I like complex, shades of grey characters. Shouta sees Teris as his soulmate. He’s had this lifetime with her that only he knows about. While Teris may not remember their shared dreams, she does feel an overwhelming pull to Shouta. That doesn’t make them responsible for Hizashi’s descent to full on dark yandere and eventual turn to villainy. But Shouta and Teris might've been able to slow Hizashi's fall or get him some help if they had been more aware and not so focused on each other.

Comments and re-blogs are always appreciated.

Thanks to those who have left hearts. And a VERY special thank you to those who have recently left comments or re-blogged. They REALLY mean a lot.

A HUGE thanks to @inorganicone2230 for their help, friendship, and encouragement. I HIGHLY recommend you check out their work either on here or AO3 (@InorganicOne2230). I LOVE their EraserMicxReader fics. And their yandere Kai is A-MAZING. Their help and input has been a BIG help in fleshing out Kai in my other two fics Crossroads and Lost Song; both of which wouldn’t be getting written right now if not for their encouragement.

#aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #hizashi yamada #yamada hizashi #yandere hizashi #yandere #present mic #eraserhead #bnha #my hero academia #fanfic #erase the shadow

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bountybossier · 4 years

Text

Downward Demon Dog | Rebecca & Nicodemus

Of course it would be a goddamn pricolici on yoga Wednesday.

Set during Into the Darkness PotW.

With: @exorciseyourspirit

With all the stress of being back in White Crest, and having to focus on meditation instead of sleeping, Rebecca had been looking for a good way to help clear her mind and relax. The answer, she supposed, was a hobby. Outside of hunting down magical objects and teaching. And the poster had said yoga could be relaxing and help with stress. Plus, it would help keep her in shape. It was worth a shot, and with the sun on sabbatical, she supposed now was as good a time as any to occupy her mind, lest she stray from her path to try and start solving all this town’s problems. They’d nearly fallen into that trap the first time they’d ended up in White Crest, what with Theo’s dedication to her sacred duty. Not this time, Rebecca had told herself.

The class itself was easy, and by the end of it, Rebecca did feel more loose, and less like her body was going to coil up and shoot off like a loaded spring. But the sky was still dark when she opened the doors, a man following close behind her, and there was a concerning chill in the air. Not a recognizable one, not a ghost, but...perhaps something more sinister. That’s when Rebecca heard the scream. Her feet took off before she even registered what she was doing, iron coated dagger brandished. She barely even noticed the man following right behind her.

It was a well kept secret that Nicodemus glowered his way through local yoga classes. Spent some time to align some of his fucking chakras and work on breathing techniques. Whatever that even meant. The sun giving up the ghost didn’t affect that much and with how...off he felt, maybe it would do something. He didn’t count on it but it got him out of the goddamn Traveler and that was gift enough in itself. He didn’t talk to anyone as he pushed himself into downward dogs, warrior poses, and crow poses. As it turned out, focusing on his breath and the ache of his muscles that hadn’t seen rest in fucking days did help some. Not that he would admit it.

On the way out, he grunted some sound of departure and left out the door that was still wide open from the woman in front of him. His senses were already shot but something, he couldn’t tell what, was looming nearby. Loosely covered under a tarp in the back of his truck was some supplies that could be used for a hunt. A hunt that he right then didn’t want to deal with. A scream concluded that he might have to as someone from the class took off in the direction of the scream. With a knife in hand. Damn it. He wasn’t dressed for this but if yoga was cancelled because someone went off and fucking died... Jogging, he stopped by the back of his truck to grab two of his hunting knives and a gun. They jostled awkwardly in the pockets of his basketball shorts as he caught up to the woman. “Yoga not enough, huh?” He said, far from breathless. “Heard that scream too?”

By the time Rebecca reached where she thought the scream had come from, she was winded enough to where she’d needed to stop and survey the surroundings. The man had showed up not sooner after, not even slightly winded. Either he was really fit or really not entirely human. Hunter, perhaps? If he’d come running for a scream, it seemed logical. “I did,” she said, giving a little smirk. “Are you kidding? Yoga was just the warm up.” Something toppled, more muffled voices coming from ahead of them. She squinted into the dark, but her vision, already blurred, couldn’t cut through it. “Do you see anything? Anyone?” She paused, trying to make out the dark lump ahead of them, the strangled cries. Bones crunched and she shivered. This wasn’t good. Steeling herself, she let the man scoot in front of her. She wasn’t weak, per say, but she certainly didn’t have superstrength.

The hunter breathed in slow and steady through his nose as he came to a stop beside her. “Yeah, don’t know if a fuckin’ mountain pose is the right shit for this, but ‘spose we’ll find out,” Nicodemus mumbled as he cocked his head and squinted into the dark. His shot nerves and senses worked in spite of. Something was awful close. Blood was too. Fresh, he could tell, as the breeze brought that copper smell straight to him. He crouched down and looked harder, eyesight shifting from the well-lit parking lot to the dim woods. A couple blinks and it was there. “What used to be someone. Fuck me,” he grumbled. Whoever, whatever they were, they weren’t that anymore. Reduced to a mess of flesh. His eyes ticked upward from the mess of flesh to the thick branch several feet about it. Red eyes met his own. Red-coated teeth bared for a second before it dropped, fast as fuck. The creature, tall and big in a fuck off kind of way, hefted the mass of flesh that used to be someone and threw it effortlessly at the pair. “Oh fuck me sideways!” Nicodemus rolled back. Guns clattered out of his pockets as he tumbled back, body low beside the woman’s. Nicodemus inwardly swore. Of course it would be a goddamn pricolici on yoga Wednesday. Why wouldn’t it be? “Fuckin’ course, ain’t this just the way.”

Rebecca squinted into the darkness in the direction the man was looking. For a moment, things faded, and it felt like something was swirling in her vision, before she blinked. A THUD! Followed as something big and heavy fell to ground. She had to cover her mouth at the sight. She was used to seeing ghosts maimed and even old, rotted bodies. But fresh kills...fresh blood. That wasn’t her thing. The smell was almost overwhelming. She held her dagger up, though, ready to back up the other guy if he needed it. Hashem, she kinda hoped he didn’t. But she couldn’t run away now. Rebecca Rothbard wasn’t a coward. This had been more of Theo’s thing, though. Suddenly, the body was being launched at them, and Rebecca had no more time for thoughts or wishes-- she was a part of this no matter what. Ducking out of the way, she rolled behind the man, trying to remember any sort of holding spell she could think of. Mind wavering again, as she fought to keep control of herself. “What is that!?” she asked under a hushed breath, voice quivering just slightly. “A werewolf?” She went to reach for one of the guns that had clattered from his pockets, already closer than him, when the thing snarled, and launched itself at them. Rebecca’s eyes widened, hands going up-- she wasn’t fast enough, she couldn’t get out of the way. And just like that, it looked like something solid but invisible slammed into the creature, sending it backwards. I told you, said the voice in her head, I can help.

Nicodemus huffed a breath and kept his eyes forward. Yoga was supposed to align his chakras or some shit, but with a pricolici throwing bodies the way it was, didn’t seem likely. Fucking of course not. “Somethin’ like that.” He muttered as he spared a quick glance her way. Quickly, he reached for a gun. He bristled as the pricolici launched itself forward, all muscle and rage. Fuck, she wasn’t about to get goddamn eaten in front of him, was he? No. That wasn’t the case. Something stopped it mid-flight and sent it ass over head backwards. He was only confused momentarily as he finally got a grip on one of the guns and stood up. The hunter looked at her. “The fuck was that? That you?” If she didn’t, they might be more fucked than initially thought. The vampire dog was up and recovered by the time he finished checking the silver bullet count in them. With the night looming ever-present as it was, it was the smart choice to ensure that everything he took out with him was loaded with silver in some capacity. “Pricolici. Werewolf vampire dog,” he said, telling it to her straight. He fired off a round at the red-eyed mass heading towards them and started moving himself. “Gonna have to move!”

“No,” Rebecca hissed under her breath, shaking her head. “I don’t need your help.” She was already scrambling back to her feet when she heard a gun shot, echoing around them. Had he hit it? Looked like it, but the-- vampire werewolf??-- barely faltered. She’d heard stories about them, but thought they were just scary stories werewolf mothers told their children to keep them out of the streets at night and remind them they weren’t invincible. Struggling to her feet, Rebecca grabbed her shoulder, wincing a bit. She followed quickly after him, still holding up her dagger. “You don’t happen to have an extra of those, do you?” she asked, nodding at his gun. “I might not look it, but I’m a pretty good shot. Though it’s usually salt coming out of my gun, not real bullets.”

The hunter shot her a slightly wary look. Looked like they weren’t going to discuss what the fuck it was that just happened. As Nicodemus tracked the red eyes through the dense wood, he figured it was a fair enough decision. Pricolici’s made it real fucking hard to hold civil conversation. “Sure as shit do,” he answered, a gunshot all the punctuation necessary as he backtracked to grab the other one and hand it to her. Not the most ideal place to huff out a laugh but he did anyway. “Exorcist? Hell of a town to be.” The pricolici’s legs bunched as it dove to use an adjacent tree as leverage to spring off of, a red-eyed black mass of yellow teeth. Nicodemus shifted on his feet only to lose traction and stumble slightly. He shot a look at the mangled mass of meat that was once a person underfoot. “Oh damn it all.” The pricolici sped towards him like a semi-truck, mouth open wide to try and bite down on him. A bullet in the mouth stopped that train of thought but did jack shit to stop the momentum as the creature hit the hunter dead on. The tree behind him snapped with their combined weight. He was pretty sure a rib or two did too.

“Yes, well, weird draws weird, doesn’t it?” Rebecca said back, taking the gun gratefully. But before she could do much more, the Pricolici was bounding for them again. The hunter took aim, but his foot was already in the puddle of human mush before Rebecca could warn him. “Watch--” she started, but was knocked back by the passing body of the were-monster, stumbling slightly. The loud gunshot rang in her ears and she straightened, watching the two of them tumble into a tree, snapping straight through it. Oh, that had to hurt. Rebecca rushed over, gun held up. It was whimpering and bleeding, and she took the opportunity to take the shot. Straight through the brain, and the creature flopped over next to the now downed hunter. Panting, she came over to him, holding out her hand. “Are you alright? You weren’t bit, were you?”

“No kiddin’,” Nicodemus huffed out. Well, that was blood in his mouth and he knew the feeling of a cracked rib when it happened. Groovy. He took her offered hand as he pulled himself up, concealing a wince as he did. “...Thanks.” The town was fucking him up. Slipping on a fucking carcass? Jesus Christ, it might as well have been goddamn amateur hour at the O.K. Corral. He pressed the barrel of his own gun against the back of the pricolici and fired once into where its heart would be. Didn’t hurt to make doubly sure and when he glanced back at her, he shrugged. An exorcist in White Crest. Always good to have considering the ghost bullshit he wanted nothing to do with. “Better than him, so yeah, doin’ alright. Not bit either. Bite from this fuck only does shit to vampires or wolves. You good?” Now that the danger with big goddamn teeth was dealt with, he could do a couple rounds of deep breathing. Just like at yoga. He looked back into the dark where the creature had come from. Chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Was that you? The whole...invisible slammin’ thing? Don’t care if it was, just makin’ sure there ain’t other shit lurkin’ and all.”

When he stood, Rebecca winced for him-- he looked like he was in quite a bit of pain, probably a few broken ribs. She turned her head away as he finished the pricolici off, one quick shot to the head. She held the gun back out to him, hands shaking a bit. “It...yes,” she answered. No sense in hiding it. “But yes,” she sighed, “I’m good.” She looked down at the two messes they’d made-- well, the one they’d made, and the one they hadn’t been able to prevent. She went over to the mangled body, but couldn’t bring herself to look for too long. “I can’t tell who it was, we should probably...call the police,” she murmured. She was tired, he looked tired. Standing, she sighed. “I can drive you somewhere, if you need, too. The least I can do since you helped me out. I’d probably be, well,” she motioned to the pile on the ground vaguely.

He said nothing as he took the gun back. Noted the way the gun between them transferred her own trembling to his hand. Nicodemus’s brow pinched as he glanced down at the mess. How different it might have been between spirits or whatever she dealt with and the oncoming fangs of a pissed off pricolici, he didn’t know. But considering they both had come out of yoga not at all prepared to deal with any bullshit, they did alright. “Don’t know nothin’ about all that shit,” he said, honest as he could be. “But, uh, you did good. With...yeah.” He got the point across and didn’t want to break into a rambling mess. There was enough of that around them as it was. “I can’t either. Call when we get out of here, I ‘spose” he said with a nod. He heaved a sigh as he slid the guns back into the pockets of his shorts. Ignored the absurdity of the entire fucking situation. “Hell, we both would be. Don’t know about you but I could use a fuckin’ beer,” he said as he glanced at her. “...Nic. Uh, Nicodemus. That’s me.”

“Good is...a word for it, I suppose,” Rebecca said, letting out a long breath. The shaking was calming, the more she became aware that the danger was over-- but for her, was it really ever? She hadn’t quite been expecting to fight a monster after yoga tonight, but at least she was already limber which meant no pulled muscles this time. “Well, I don’t quite know much about all this shit. Though, I know some. I used to know a Slayer-- er undead Hunter,” she said quietly, cleaning herself off a little as they headed away. She pulled out her phone, ready to dial. “A beer, or a stiff drink, at the very least,” she nodded, holding out her free hand. “Rebecca. So...you come to yoga here often? Not sure I’ve seen you around before.”

“Better fuckin’ word than most,” Nicodemus said with a barely-there laugh. Even after an hour long session of yoga and listening to fucking rain or whatever the instructor had playing, he felt tense. Nearly getting mauled by a pricolici could do that to someone, he supposed. Or seeing someone else nearly get mauled. Ain’t that something. “Fair. I don’t know a fuckin’ thing about...spirits or whatever. Ain’t real keen on it.” Magic and spirits. Two things he didn’t want to occupy too much of his time. But he was curious and the look he gave her might have said as much. “Know a slayer or two myself,” he said. “Always found a whiskey or two gets rid of problems.” Or starts them, depending on the night. He took her offered hand and gave it a firm shake. Christ, when was the last time he ever shook anyone’s hand? People up north didn’t seem to care for it, last he remembered. “Yeah, well, accordin’ to some internet quiz, my chakras ain’t real aligned and I gotta get those fuckers righted. Figured yoga might do it.” He folded his arms loosely as they walked out of the dark wood and away from the mangled mess. “Ain’t seen you either, but hell, guess it’s good we did get some yoga in. Might’ve pulled somethin’ if we didn’t.” And Jesus, as if pulling an ass muscle in front of a pricolici wouldn’t be at the top of embarrassing shit that could happen to a person.

Rebecca shook his hand, callous and firm, a strong grip. She was reminded of her grandfather always preaching the stereotypical ‘You know a man is good if he’s got a strong handshake’ bullshit, and she remembered how long she spent making sure hers was always firmer and stronger than the men whose hands she was forced to shake. This, however, was different. She gave a shrug. “To each our own,” she said. They all specialized for a reason, after all. No one could do it all. Let the slayer comment lie-- she didn’t need to reconnect with any of them in town, not if she wasn’t going to stick around. Not if they were just going to remind her of Theo and what she’d lost. She did, however, chuckle at his chakra comment, shaking her head. “And you believe it? Well...as ridiculous as it sounds, I’m glad that quiz made you sign up, otherwise I’d’ve been uh-- what’d you call it again-- Pricolici-- meat.” She gestured towards the bar across the street. “Either way, I think we’ve both earned that whiskey, don’t you?”

#chatzy #chatzy: downward demon dog #c: rebecca #wickedswriting #im love

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