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lunar-wandering · 3 years

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“this house is a frickin’ nightmare”

so i. decided to write something for the ‘Sitcom’ AU, which is basically just the concept that post-canon, everyone lives in the same house.... its Fun.

Word Count: 2.7k

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"Monkey King, get down from the fridge."

"No."

This exchange is what drew MK's attention to the fact that something was happening in the kitchen.

In MK's opinion, it was far too early for something to be happening in the kitchen.

"Wukong, I swear, if you don't get down from there-"

"What- you gonna stab me? Pigsy, you know full well that method is ineffective."

"What is going on?" MK asked, entering the kitchen and, well, seeing exactly what he had expected; Wukong crouched on top of the fridge, staring down at Pigsy, who was glaring up at him.

Still though. Just because he'd expected to see it didn't explain why it was happening.

"Oh hey, kid." Wukong said, taking notice of him. "Everything's fine, you can go back to your room, breakfast will be ready soon."

"It would be done already if you hadn't burned it." Pigsy said, gesturing to the charred remains of what supposedly had been breakfast. "Seriously, can't you follow simple instructions?? Now we've gotta start all over."

"It's not my fault I'm a visual learner." Wukong said, his tail swinging back and forth.

"It was three steps-"

"What's going on?"

MK barely kept himself from startling at the new voice behind him, turning around to see a very tired looking Red Son.

"Breakfast burned." MK said, catching Red Son up on the situation. Red Son hummed in contemplation, walking into the kitchen, picking up a piece of the unrecognizable charred food, and, ignoring the other's growing horror, he ate it.

"...Tastes fine to me." He said, going so far as to grab and nibble on another piece as he turned and left, presumably heading back to his room. The remaining three watched him go in shocked silence.

"....This house is a frickin' nightmare." Wukong deadpanned. Pigsy nodded in agreement.

"Aptly put. Now get off of the fridge."

"No."

MK decided to go back to bed.

It was commonly known, within the household, that somehow, Tang and Wukong continuously managed to get out of doing their fair share of the chores. No one was quite sure how they did it, as the two of them kept coming up with new methods every day.

Today's method was..... interesting, to say the least.

Somehow, someway, they had managed to remove their names from the Chore Roulette Wheel, without leaving any trace that their names had ever even been there. Which was, in fact, rather impressive, considering that the roulette wheel was literally a giant wooden roulette wheel, built by Sandy, and there were no empty spaces were their names used to be, they were just. Gone.

To be honest, MK would've never noticed if Mei hadn't pointed it out.

Now, there was a house-wide search for the two chore-shirkers.

"Found 'em yet?" MK yelled down the stairs into the basement. A few seconds passed, then a unanimous call of "No!" came. MK sighed. If the Spider-gang couldn't find Tang and Wukong down there, then they probably weren't there. (.....Probably. Wukong did have a lot of tricks up his sleeves, and MK didn't put it pass his mentor to use them for something like this.)

That checked off the majority of the house.... which only left-

An enraged scream (courtesy of Mei) from upstairs confirmed what MK had concluded.

They were on the roof.

MK rushed to the stairs, running up them-

Only to pause as he heard a yelp, and a flash of gold fell past the window, followed by a loud thud. MK leaned on the windowsill to look outside, just in time to see Tang fall past it. Wukong, a few branches and grass in his fur from his rough landing, summoned his cloud to catch Tang, before zooming away.

As MK would later find out, in the haste to escape Mei's wrath, Tang had actually pushed Wukong off the roof. Wukong, in return, had unceremoniously dropped Tang on the ground the first chance he got.

Both of their names were back on the roulette wheel by the next morning.

....They still managed to get out of doing their chores though.

"Oh, hey Macaque." MK mumbled, tiredly rubbing his eyes, and Macaque, mid-way through stealing a snack out of the fridge, froze like a deer in the headlights.

"Uh.....hey, bud." He said, slowly closing the fridge door, glancing at MK, who was obviously very tired, then looking at the clock on the wall.

2:43 AM. Okay, he could work with this.

"What are you doing up so late?" Macaque asked, leaning casually against the fridge in an attempt to hide his nervousness. If MK had been more awake, he would've noticed and called him out on it, but as it was....

"Just woke up.... wanted to get a snack." MK said, and Macaque quickly opened a nearby cupboard.

"Here, have this." He said, putting a cookie in MK's hands, before grabbing him by the shoulders, turning him around, and gently shoving him back towards his room. "Now go back to bed."

"G'night, Macaque." MK said, nibbling on his cookie.

"Goodnight, MK." Macaque sighed, waiting until he heard MK's bedroom door click closed again before melting back into the shadows.

The next morning, MK thought he had dreamt the whole thing. After all, Macaque had vehemently denied the invitation to live in the house with everyone else, surely if he had changed his mind and started to live with them, someone would've noticed.

....Right?

"Monkey King?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you always sleep on the roof?" Red Son asked, "I mean, you do have a room after all, why don't you use it?"

"I just like watching the stars." Wukong said, reclining on his cloud. Suddenly, Mei and MK also appeared beside Red Son, with their arms crossed, looking unimpressed.

"You told me that beds were uncomfortable." Mei said.

"And you told me that you liked the breeze." MK added. Wukong's tail bristled a little, but he still didn't look over at them.

"Well, I mean, all of those are true." Wukong said, "Figured I would just... switch my answers up from time to time, keep things entertaining you know?"

"That doesn't explain why you slept out there in the pouring rain." Mei said, "In fact, the only time we've seen you sleep inside is when we have blanket fort night."

"...The rain was nice?" Wukong said, sounding uncertain. The trio narrowed their eyes.

"Is there something wrong with your room?" Red Son asked, and Wukong flinched.

"No." He said, finally sitting up and looking at them. "Really, my room's perfectly fine, I don't know where you're getting the idea that something's wrong-"

"You're doing that nervous smile again." MK said, and Wukong slammed a hand over his mouth in an attempt to hide what the trio had already seen.

There was a moment of silence, and in that moment, each member of the traffic light trio came to a shared conclusion.

No matter the cost, they would get into Wukong's room.

Almost as though they had actually planned it, the trio took off towards the staircase, ignoring Wukong's yells for them to stop. Hurriedly, Wukong summoned two clones, then rushed after the trio.

Red on got caught on the stairs, the clone grabbing hold of the edge of his coat and dragging him down. It wouldn't be able to hold him for long of course, his fire could quickly burn the clone away, but it would still manage to slow him down.

Mei was captured in the hallway, the clone pushing off the wall to tackle her, accidentally knocking her right into Yin and Jin's room, pining her to the ground as the twins yelped in shock.

...Which just left MK.

Having trained with the Monkey King, MK found himself easily dodging Wukong's attempts to catch him. Slightly out of breath, he skidded to a stop in front of Wukong's door, turned the knob, and opened it.

"I don't really see what the problem is, the room looks fine to me-" MK said, stepping into the room.

"Kid, wait-" Wukong started to say, but it was too late.

MK tripped, tumbling into the room, dispelling the illusion Wukong had carefully crafted and placed over it.

Wukong's room was a mess, to put things lightly. There was stuff everywhere- books, clothes, antiques, food, you named it, it was probably there. It was to the point where there was no place to sleep, the bed being covered in stuff. Which, well, that explained the whole 'sleeping on the roof' thing, but still.

Wukong nervously shifted from foot to foot in the doorway. Red Son and Mei, who had succeeded in freeing themselves, as well as Yin and Jin, who had gotten curious from all the commotion, stared over Wukong's shoulders, taking in the state of the room.

MK sat there for a moment, looking at the mess (and sure, MK's room was messy too, but this-), before slowly turning around to look at his mentor, a serious expression on his face.

"Wukong." MK said, and Wukong stiffened, his nervous smile growing wider at the sound of MK saying his name instead of his title.

"...Yeah?" Wukong said, chuckling nervously as MK's look darkened.

"...I'm getting Sandy."

"Wait, no no no-"

The rest of the day was spent cleaning up Wukong's room, sorting through the piles upon piles of stuff.

Wukong, in a bout of spite, still slept on the roof anyways.

Yin and Jin stared in shock at the scene in front of them.

Everyone in the house knew that Wukong and Tang adamantly avoided doing their share of the chores. (The roof-pushing incident was still fresh in everyone's minds, after all).

So that's why seeing Wukong doing the laundry was very out of place.

"...What are you two staring at?" Wukong asked, snapping the twins out of their shocked reverie.

"It's just....weird to see you doing the laundry, that's all." Yin said, and that-

Well, surprisingly enough, that made Wukong actually pause.

"It is?" He asked, slowly setting the laundry basket down on the ground, subtly nudging it under a nearby table so that it was now out of view.

"Well, I mean, with how you and Mr. Tang utilize every method possible to avoid doing the chores, we never thought we'd actually see you doing one." Jin said.

"...I see." Wukong said, quietly. "Well, in that case. You two saw nothing."

"Wha-"

Not giving them a chance to respond, Wukong flashed a peace sign, then vanished, leaving the twins to sputter in disbelief.

(Later, Macaque returned to the laundry room to pick up the clothes he'd left behind.)

Syntax paused as he stared at the sight before him.

"...What is this?" He ased, drawing the attention of the occupants in the living room.

"A braid train!" MK replied, and honestly, that's what it was. MK sat on the floor, braiding Bai He's hair, Bai He braiding Red Son's, who was braiding Mei's hair. Mei pulled one hand out of Spider Queen's hair to give Syntax a little wave before returning to braiding the queen's hair. Spider Queen gently weaved Huntsman's hair into a braid that looked above professional level. Huntsman was twisted at an odd angle in order to put some braids in Sandy's beard. And Sandy carefully created some tiny braids in Wukong's fur."

"I....see." Syntax said, holding up his phone and taking a quick picture before any of the braid train participants could notice.

"Do you wanna join?" MK asked, "You can either braid my hair or get yours braided by Monkey King. Your choice."

Syntax took a moment to think about it.

He ended up braiding MK's hair.

There was someone in the shower.

Now, usually, this wouldn't be such a mind-boggling thing, but-

All of the house's occupants stared at the bathroom door in trepidation.

"You sure Wukong didn't just accidentally leave the shower on again?" Princess Iron Fan asked, prompting some indignant sputtering from Wukong, who was sitting on Demon Bull King's shoulder. MK shook his head in the negative.

"No, I'm sure I heard someone moving in there." He said, crossing his arms.

"Why don't you or Monkey King just use your true sight and get this whole mystery over with?" Jin asked.

"Yeah, we've already been waiting for like, 20 minutes." Yin said.

"They're in the shower." MK said, "I'm not just gonna invade their privacy like that, regardless of who they are."

The shower turned off, and everyone turned to stare at the door again, in silence. There was some rustling around, and then the door opened.

Macaque. It was Macaque. Who, upon realizing that literally the entire household was standing in front of him, froze.

And then immediately tried to turn and run.

"Oh no you don't." Wukong said, jumping off of Demon Bull King's shoulder, and outright tackling the other monkey to the ground. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I live here?" Macaque said, sitting up and shoving Wukong off of him.

"You turned down the invitation to come and live with us though...." Wukong said, slowly standing back up. ".....How long have you been here?"

"Two weeks."

"Two weeks?!" Everyone went into various states of shock.

"How could we not have noticed you?" MK asked.

"You- you did notice me though." Macaque said, "Like, we had a whole conversation in the kitchen at around 3 AM."

"You think I remember what happens at 3 am?!" MK said, holding his head in his hands, and Red Son comfortingly patted him on the back.

"What happens at 3 AM stays at 3 AM." Red Son said, sounding like he was saying some ancient wisdom despite the actual sentence being utter nonsense. Yin and Jin snapped their fingers as a look of realization appeared on their faces.

"That's why we saw Wukong doing the laundry the other day." Yin said, "It was Macaque in disguise!"

"....Yeah, I figured you'd notice if I didn't do some chores, just to clean up after myself." Macaque sighed, and Pigsy turned to glare at Wukong and Tang.

"See? Even the ex-villain does more chores than you two." He said, and Wukong and Tang purposefully looked away, whistling innocently.

"Wait." Mei said, "If you've been here for two weeks, and we haven't seen you use any of the bedrooms... then where have you been sleeping?"

As it turned out, Macaque had been spending his nights in the storage closet, curled up in the darkest corner of the room with nothing other than a blanket and a small pillow. The others, of course, deemed this as unacceptable, and pretty much near shoved him into one of the leftover bed rooms.

...Which he didn't even end up using that night, as it ended up being a night where everyone ended up falling asleep in the living room, blankets and pillows strewn about everywhere.

The next morning, Macaque wasn't there when the others woke up, and there was a brief moment of panic over the monkey's whereabouts-

And then said monkey walked back into the room, using the shadows to help him carry some trays with breakfast on it.

He paused when he registered that everyone was staring at him.

"....What?" He asked, "I woke up first, that means I had breakfast duty, right?"

"I mean.....yeah." MK said, graciously accepting his plate of food. "But, to be honest. I kinda expected you to burn it like Monkey King did."

"Hey, I did that on purpose. For Red Son." Wukong said, "Cause, y'know. He likes charred food. Apparently."

"You did not do that on purpose and we all know it." Pigsy said, "You were just as unaware of Red Son's dietary habits as the rest of us."

"...I literally just woke up and I'm kinda feeling attacked." Red Son mumbled, sitting up. "Should I feel like I'm being attacked?"

"No, you're fine, we're just calling out Wukong again." Spider Queen whispered to him, and Red Son hummed before rolling back over, clearly intending on getting a few more minutes of rest despite the argument starting to occur in the room. Macaque, for his part, remained standing frozen, with MK standing beside him, nibbling at the food on his plate.

"....Should I be concerned about this?" Macaque asked, staring at the fight taking place. MK shrugged.

"Nah." He said, "This is just the same shit as always."

#Monkie Kid #'Sitcom' AU #my writing

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companionjones · 3 years

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Just A Little Bit Longer

Fandom: Star Trek (specifically Kelvin Timeline)

Pairing: Spock x Reader, Platonic!Kirk x Reader

Summary: You’re on a recognizance mission with Kirk when you get a dart to the stomach. In order to keep you conscious, Kirk asks you to talk about whatever. You let slip some feelings you have for a certain half-Vulcan, along with some sad thoughts you’ve been having about yourself.

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, depression, violence

*******

“Hey! Hey, hey there, look at me.” Kirk urged. “You’re gonna be fine. Scotty, beam us up right now.”

You’d joined your captain on some recognizance that had quickly gone sour. There had been some intelligent natives that no one knew about on the planet and you had gotten pierced by one of their darts. The only reason it was still sticking out of you was because it was keeping you from bleeding out.

Vaguely, you realized that you couldn’t hear Scotty’s voice in your ear. Your ear piece must’ve fallen out.

“What do you mean you can’t?!” Kirk exclaimed while holding you in his arms. “What could possibly be preventing you?”

“Kirk...” you tiredly breathed.

He caught your eyes again. “No, don’t give up on me yet. Scotty’s gonna figure this out, okay? You need to stay awake just a little bit longer. Talk to me.”

“About what?” Your outlook wasn’t bright.

Kirk tried to smile to not give away how scared he was. He wasn’t doing a good job of it. “Anything,” he answered, “Whatever comes to mind.”

“I, uh...I’ve always hated myself.” You burst out laughing, despite the fact that you were bleeding out in a cave. In fact, that fact probably added to the humor. “I’m sorry, it’s just...I’ve kept that to myself for so long, it feels nice to tell someone, you know?”

You propped yourself up on a rock, and ignored the stabbing pain in your abdomen. “Don’t look at me like that, Captain,” you told Kirk, whose eyes were filling with guilt. “You couldn’t have known. I’m a pretty good actor, I’ll give myself that much. None of you had any idea I cry myself to sleep every night.” You chuckled, and that triggered a coughing fit.

You got the hint from that that it was time to get more serious. “Uh...do me a favor and thank Spock for me, if I don’t make it out of this. He kept me alive, if I’m speaking literally. I know he’ll never admit it, but we became good friends. It surprised me just as much as I’m sure it surprised him. I, um, I’ve always wished we were closer, you know? Bah, but I know Spock would never go for me. You think Uhura’s out of your league? Spock and I aren’t even playing the same sport. He’s just so clever and brave and outstandingly kind. Whenever I’m with him, it makes me think that I can hang on just a little bit longer...” You trailed off then, and you noticed Kirk’s face.

It looked like he needed to tell you something scary.

“What is it?” you wondered.

He informed you sadly, “They figured out what’s stopping them from beaming us up.”

“And...?”

“We need to take the dart out.”

“Ah,” you chuckled. “Okay,” you situated yourself, and forced down a scream that bubbled up when you moved. “Let’s get it over with.”

He sighed, then gently placed a hand on your side, and the other on the dart itself. “You ready?”

“Oh, completely,” you answered your captain, sarcasm echoing through the dark cave. Just him touching the dart was agonizing for you.

Kirk gave you warning...sort of. “Okay. 1...2--” He ripped the dart from you.

“You know what? It’s not that bad,” you stated, and you thought you were telling the truth, until you took your hand off your abdomen and saw it was dripping in blood. “Oh, would you look at that.”

At the same time, the yellow beaming circles started to appear around you and Kirk. Seconds later, the two of you were back on the Enterprise.

“Bones,” Kirk called to the chief medical officer who was already headed toward you. “Get Y/n to the med bay now.”

Then, Spock made his way through the crowd gathered in the transporter room. He had been put in charge in Kirk’s absence.

You smiled when you saw him. You always smiled when you saw him. “Hey there, Spo--”

He kissed you.

Your eyes snapped shut on instinct, but they opened again almost immediately. You couldn’t believe what was happening.

After a few moments, he parted from you. “I apologize for being so forward, but I have been harboring feelings for you for some time now...I had no idea you feel the same for me, and I had no idea that you feel that way about yourself.”

Bones interrupted, “Listen guys, I hate to get in the middle of this moment, but Y/n’s kind of dying right now.”

“Whatever could you mean, Bonesy?” you joked. You started coughing.

Bones instructed Spock and Kirk, the latter of the two still halfway holding you, “Come on, get them up. I can fix this, but we need to get them to the med bay.”

So, Spock liked you back. You were sure you wouldn’t be able to comprehend that any time soon, if ever. That’s if you survived the wound in your stomach. But, as you fell unconscious, you felt the same as you always did when you saw Spock. You felt you could hold on just a little bit longer.

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment if you could leave one. If you would like to read more, I have more fics on Star Trek (kelvin timeline) over on my page. You should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#star trek #star trek kelvin timeline #spock #spock x reader #james kirk #zachary quinto #chris pine #just a little bit longer #companion jones #to be honest i think i wrote spock a little ooc in this #but dont tell anyone #tw suicide #suicide #tw suicidal thoughts #suicidal thoughts #tw depression #depression #tw violence #violence

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watermelonlipstick · 3 years

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Septic

This was written as a request for anon, who asked:

I was wondering if I could request one with Dean. The reader's injury gets badly infected and she gets a high fever and they are stuck somewhere and can't go to the hospital (maybe a cabin during a snow storm or something else if you want?). Anyway her condition keeps getting worse and dean is doing everything he can to keep her alive? As for their relationship it's up to you, whether they're dating or hiding their feelings...?

I hope this is something along the lines of what you were thinking. I decided to go with a ‘hiding from Leviathans’ angle because that seemed the closest to canon compliant to me. Thanks in advance for reading; I would love any advice or critiques!!

Title: Septic

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2124

Summary: Unable to go to a hospital for fear of getting trapped by Leviathans, Dean tries his best to manage the reader’s worsening infection and fever.

Warnings: fever, illness, swearing, implied threat of death, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff (maybe? if you squint)

“Dude, I have a fever, I haven’t been decapitated. Can you stop pacing? Sam’ll be back in a couple days, I’ll take some Tylenol and sleep it off, we’ll be good as new in no time.”

He glared down at you where you laid on Rufus’s couch with flared nostrils. “You’re shivering under every goddamn blanket in this place and it’s been 3 days already. We’re going to a hospital.”

You rolled your eyes at him and tried to hide the way you snuggled deeper into the woolen bundle. “So dramatic. As if we wouldn’t get made walking in the door. And if you’re so worried about me, why don’t you make yourself useful and get me a hot water bottle and some tea?” You tried to give him your most casual smile in reassurance.

Dean appraised you with a hard set to his jaw and a twinge of concern at his eyebrows for a moment before relenting. “Fuck, fine. One more day and if the fever hasn’t broken, then we’re going.” It was only a few steps to the kitchen, and you heard him putting a pot of water on to boil. “You sure I can’t just do coffee? I don’t know how you drink this stuff.”

Like it always did, Dean’s aversion to tea made you laugh. “It’s literally just mint flavored water—you act like you haven’t drunk all kinds of potions and hangover cures.”

“The fact that I have drunk all kinds of potions and hangover cures should show you how gross it is.” He tossed a hot water bottle covered in worn waxed canvas on top of your blankets and you shimmied it under your feet while he got the tea together. After a moment, he set the tea (and a plastic bear full of honey, which made you smile to yourself) on the coffee table next to you. “Can we at least watch something else? These chicks are driving me fucking nuts.”

That made you laugh hard enough to shake loose the blanket corners tucked in under your chin. “You might be able to trick Bobby into thinking you don’t like the Real Housewives, but I’m not buying it for one second.”

He shot you some side eye but didn’t protest, patting your feet in a signal to raise them so he could sit with your legs in his lap. You didn’t remember past the first few minutes of the next episode.

“Hey, come on, you gotta drink something.”

You squinted up at Dean, feeling the sickly stickiness of dried and re-soaked sweat in Dean’s stolen sweatshirt where it bunched around your neck. “You want me to sleep, you want me to wake up, pick a lane, asshole,” you tried to joke, feeling each word like a stab in your, well, stab wound. It took more focus than it should’ve too hold onto Dean’s face where he perched on the coffee table right in front of you.

“You’ve been asleep for 16 hours, Rip Van Winkle. And you’re sweating like a whore in church, gotta rehydrate.”

“Thanks, Nurse Ratched,” you croaked, carefully keeping your face neutral around the throbbing ache in your side as you sat up and accepted the bowl of broth from Dean. When his hands were free, he put the back of his hand to your forehead in a very maternal way that might’ve made you giggle if you weren’t in so much pain.

Dean’s lips pressed into a tight line and he breathed a hard “fuck,” as he sat back. “Lemme see it.”

“If you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was ask,” you tried to joke.

“No slick shit, I’m serious. The fever’s getting worse.” There wasn’t even a touch of playfulness in his tone, tight chord of anxiety clipping his words.

“It’s going to be pink and raw like every other set of infected stit—”

“Cooperate or don’t, but my bet is there’s no way you can slip out of getting pinned right now.”

“Who knew you were so kinky, Dean?”

He didn’t rise to the teasing at all, the just-this-side-of-friendly banter you normally had, and it made the nervous bile rise a few degrees in your throat. You eased back and slowly flipped down the blankets, immediately started shivering as you pulled up your damp layers to show him your stomach.

It was worse than you’d thought it would be even before he tenderly pulled back the tape to see the injury itself, the gauze a mottled tie-dye of blood and greenish pus. The stitches strained against swollen, angry tissue oozing at the corners, and you looked away to hold onto a little denial that you weren’t completely fucked. “Jesus Christ, kid,” Dean murmured. He reached behind him for a bottle of rubbing alcohol and you didn’t even try to argue, hissing and grabbing his wrist when he poured it over the wound. Dabbing off the worst of the external mess with the moisture, you watched as his mind raced.

You decided to try to grab the reins of the situation before he locked you both into a crazy plan. “Help me up, I want to take a shower. I feel disgusting.”

“Can you even stand?”

You rolled your eyes at him exasperatedly.

“Roll your fucking eyes at me all you want, you look like Marvin the Martian. Can’t believe I let your dumb ass talk me out of taking you to a hospital.”

“I’ve got a much better chance of beating a little infection than I do the combined force of however many Leviathans are looking for us and the full force of the federal government. Now get out of my way if you’re not going to help me up, I need a shower.”

He pushed back the coffee table and watched you stand up, grabbing your arm and waist when you immediately swayed. “Goddamn it, sit back down, I’m getting your shoes.”

“Dean. I am not going to a hospital. Especially not before Sam gets back. Not a negotiation. I just—you’re freaked out, I get it. I just need you to please let me call the play for once.”

His jaw muscles tightened into firm balls and you could see the flare of panic behind his gaze as he flicked between your eyes. Ultimately he didn’t say anything, just giving you a tight nod and offering a hand to guide you up and to the bathroom. When you’d gotten there, he hovered in the doorway as you started to peel off layers, hoping that your leaning on the sink didn’t look as obvious as it felt. “Think I can take it from here, chief,” you offered, hoping he’d take the hint.

“Not adding a head injury to this bullshit stew, sorry.”

“No way, psycho. You’re not watching me shower.”

His face screwed up in a scowl. “I’m not going to watch you shower, I’m just staying in here while you do in case you get dizzy again.”

“Dude—”

“Not a negotiation,” he growled, spinning your words back on you. You held each other’s stubborn gazes for a long beat before you gave in, getting in the tub and yanking the curtain closed with the rest of your clothes on, shucking the rest of them off and dropping them outside the tub behind the plasticized shield and curtain. You turned the water on and held onto the dial for support, hearing Dean’s movement in the bathroom as he sat down on the lidded toilet next to the shower. Laborious as it was, it felt a lot better getting clean. You’d started washing your hair when he started to talk.

“You know what you’re asking me to do, right?”

“Let me take a shower in peace?” You didn’t want to acknowledge the elephant in the room—what was the point?

“If you’re not septic yet you will be in a day or two.”

“By which time Sam will be back and you guys can strong arm some vet into giving me antibiotics like the mafiosos you fancy yourselves to be.”

“Don’t deflect.” It was quiet but firm, and you blinked away the way your vision was starting to fuzz out at the edges. Something about it finally got you to drop the joking, if only for a second.

“I know what I’m asking you to do.” You hoped he could hear the resolution in your voice.

Dean was silent for a long enough beat that you thought maybe he hadn’t heard you, but you heard the roughness in his voice when he finally replied. “Please don’t make me?”

The shower washed away a hot, stupid tear when it shot out of your eye like a kamikaze at his vulnerability. “I can’t be the reason you guys get caught.” You were clean now, but something about the confession-style quality of the shower curtain and the way it was letting both of you say what you really meant held you in the stream of water anyway.

“I’m not—it’s going to fuck me up forever, you know that, right?” It was almost a grunt, the way Dean’s voice strained as he pleaded with you.

“Long as you guys are alive.”

He didn’t respond.

After a long minute you felt your legs start to turn to jello. “You have something out there I can put on?”

You heard him clear his voice, sticky and coarse. “Gimme a second.”

A callused hand shot behind the shower curtain with a towel before Dean’s footsteps got quieter, and you tried your best to dry yourself off without stumbling. Not 15 seconds later, a bundle of clothes came in the same way. You smiled to yourself at your underwear and yoga pants with Dean’s t-shirt; he would’ve had to deliberately go into 2 different bags to get the clothes, no way it was an accidental grab. When you were dressed, you tugged the shower curtain back and didn’t argue when Dean wrapped his arm around your waist to ease you out of the tub, let him guide you back to the couch and fussily rearrange your blankets and pillows before he got out his first aid supplies.

You watched his face as he worked on cleaning the wound again, knowing he just needed to be doing something, that he couldn’t just sit still and hope it got better. You could give him that, sat stock still even when it stung like a bitch and didn’t even tease him when he made you swallow a handful of vitamins as though that would help. Another cup of soup eaten silently and two mugs of tea later, your eyelids were beginning to droop again.

“Tired?” he murmured, messing with the cover of the hot water bottle before ultimately getting up to refill it.

“A little, yeah. Will you, um, will you sit with me?”

Dean mercifully didn’t acknowledge the shake in your voice, nodding gently and sliding himself beneath you on the couch, tucking you under his arm and onto his chest, burrowing you both into the cushions. You reached your hand out of the blankets to place your palm over his heart, feeling the vibrating thrum of his pulse under your fingertips and cheek. His hand shifted so that he was smoothing the drying hair back from your temple, and after a few beats he bent his neck to kiss the crown of your head. The tenderness of it, the giving in to your request, pulled another tear out of your eye that fell straight into the cotton of Dean’ t-shirt underneath you.

He sounded like he’d just woken up, that sleepy-syrupy sandpaper of a long night on his vocal cords. “You know, right? If it was going to be anyone for me, it would’ve been you?”

The weight of it turned the blankets on top of you into a hug. You were nodding into him before you could speak, the tears turning your voice creaky-soft. “Same to you, dummy.” He chuckled once nostalgically at the ribbing, and you felt the rumble of it under you. “Thank you, Dean.”

You felt the tension of the hiccupped breath before Dean got it under control to answer. “I love you, kid.”

“Love you too.” It was the only thing to say, and neither of you had to answer or explain this undercurrent that had never been acknowledged so plainly before, no matter how rock solid it might’ve been for years. You laid there together for a long time, beating of Dean’s heart underneath you something constant to hold onto, warmth off his body better than any hot water bottle. The last thing you remembered before passing out was hearing Sam walk through the front door.

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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And as always, if you want to be on my taglist, were on the taglist and changed your handle, or I lost track of it, please let me know!

#dean #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester angst #dean hurt/comfort #dean winchester hurt/comfort #dean angst #spn angst #spn hurt/comfort #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural #spn #supernatural angst #supernatural hurt/comfort #dean mutual pining #spn mutual pining

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marauderspog · 3 years

Note

I could go with knowing Regulus' birthday tho. Trying to make it up with astrology and funky number pseudoscience is fun but you know. :D

There’s a lot of dates for his birthday in the fandom so I thought I’d take a stab at working it out.

His birthday has to be between September 1960 and August 1961 to work with him being canonically a year below the Marauders.

Regulus Black - Birthday Headcanons

WARNING: I KNOW NOTHING OF ASTRONOMY, ASTROLOGY OR ANY OTHER STAR RELATED THING. I KNOW MATHS , LOGIC AND MARAUDERS HEADCANONS THO, SO LETS GO

~ 1st September 1960 ~

Young Regulus and Sirius being annoyed that Reggie is only just in the year below

‘Mother, can’t Reggie just come to school early?’

Sirius really did not want to go to Hogwarts on his first day, because it would mean leaving Reggie alone on his birthday

They both got up really early to sneak outside, look at the stars and let Reggie open his present

Later that day, it was just him and Kreacher so they had a little tea party to celebrate not that his parents would ever acknowledge his birthday

Birthday party on the Hogwarts Express every year after that

~ 26th September 1960 ~

Regulus is the heart of the lion headcanon one!

His birthday is half a year away from James, and James will never let him live it down

‘Sorry babe, you can drink when your older’

‘I’m only fucking 6 months younger than you, and bloody taller, you prick’

One of the oldest in his year and basically a parent to the younger years, and helping calm them down when some older years pick on them

~ 25th December 1960 ~

His parents celebrate neither his birthday nor Christmas so it was just the Black cousins and Kreacher celebrating on that day when they were younger

When Hogwarts came around, the Marauders found about Regulus’ birthday around fifth year, cut to all of them staying at school over the Christmas break that year

The Great Hall was decorated with tinsel and a birthday banner, and Reggie almost broke into tears

Started calling it ‘Regmas’ as a joke, but it stuck

Reggie finally got to experience both a Christmas and a birthday and he couldn’t be happier

The next year, there was some presents from certain Hogwarts professors besides the familiar wrapping of Reggie’s favourite house elf

All house elves are invited to the birthday party

James kept making mistletoe jokes until the girls trick him into getting under it with Reggie, let’s just say they were blushing for hours after

~ 31st December 1960 ~

Born at around 11PM on the 31st so he’s barely born in 1960

Attends a Marauders New Year party during his fifth year and keeps smiling to himself because it’s the first birthday he’s been with more than two people

Sirius gets drunk and tells everyone how happy he is that his baby brother is growing up

Drunk Marauders sing Harry Birthday and Reggie almost cries of happiness

So many party games, including truth or dare where James ends up confessing

‘Prongs, kiss the hottest person in the room’

‘Sirius...’

‘I’m flattered, but I love Moony’

‘Ew, no mate, no offence, but I was gonna ask if you’d kill me if I kissed Reggie?’

‘Oh go ahead- WAIT, REGGIE?! THAT’S MY BABY BROTHER!’

‘Ignore him, please go ahead, love’

~ 28th February 1961 ~

Wanted it to be 29th of February but sadly 1961 is not a leap year, so this is an adapted version of that idea

Reggie being born at midnight on the 28th, so him and Sirius can never work out when to celebrate

On leap years, they’re so fucking confused about when to celebrate since they barely ever are allowed to celebrate at home

Reggie just pretends that his birthday has already gone when anyone asks to save them the trouble

Even when they weren’t speaking, Sirius makes sure to send a letter to Reggie at midnight on the 1st, to remind his brother that he’s always there

Most years Reggie just sneaks out of his dorm on his birthday to hang out with the house elves at midnight

One time he bumped into James, so it became a tradition for them to spend the night laughing and chatting in the kitchen or library

James just likes seeing Reggie comfortable and happy

~ 27th March 1961 ~

Regulus is the heart of the lion headcanon 2!

Birthday is the same day as James’

Sirius makes jokes that his two second favourite people share a birthday (the first is obviously Remus)

James and Reggie alternate what they do on their birthday, but usually end the day cuddled up on James’ bed talking about quidditch

After James graduates, Regulus is invited round for their birthday (as well as all their friends obviously)

Euphemia and Fleamont absolutely love Reggie, they buy him presents and invite him to come over more often after telling him many embarrassing stories about James while James blushes

~ Any Date in May 2061 ~

According to things I’ve seen please don’t quote me on this Regulus is most visible in May

Birthday stargazing with James using cheesy lines and Regulus reciting facts he was taught as a kid as they cuddle under a blanket

Birthday dates to Hogsmead with James, getting many sweets to share in the library later that day

Birthday quidditch matches where James promises not to go easy on Reggie and fucking panics one year when Reggie falls off his broom and ends up in the hospital wing

James just freaks out and refused to leave Reggie’s side, even after being told everything was fine

James and their friends end up bringing duvets and pillows down so they don’t have to leave Reggie alone

Remus and Lily find a spell to project muggle films on the wall for all of them to watch Regulus, Sirius and Mel are fascinated

~ 31st August 1961 ~

No one knowing when Regulus’ birthday is because it’s already happened the day before they go back to school

James is outraged when he finds out that the Marauders have never been able to celebrate his birthday in school

So they start making the first day of school Reggie’s honorary birthday with a giant sleepover in the Gryffindor common room

So many baby Black jokes, which Reggie fucking hates

‘Sirius I’m fucking taller than you, if anyone’s the baby it’s you’

First time they celebrate his birthday outside of school, James takes him to see a quidditch match, then to the local pub to see the rest of their friends, and finally back to their flat for Reggie to read the books he got for his birthday

~ Literally Any Date From September 1st to August 31st ~

I tried to find a correlation between November 3rd (Sirius’ birthday) and the Sirius star

Couldn’t really find anything (again I don’t know astronomy so please feel free to prove me wrong if you do!)

Only thing I saw was that Sirius is apparently more visible in Winter, but November is technically in Autumn so wasn’t really anything with that

By that logic, She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named could have made his birthday any date with no reasoning but we’re not gonna accept that

So any date for his birthday is acceptable!

SPEECH - SIRIUS, JAMES, REGULUS

Feel free to comment which birthday you prefer, even if it isn’t one listened! And sorry if I got some astronomy things wrong, please correct me if I’m wrong and I will happily edit this post accordingly!

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isabellitah · 3 years

Text

Title : Our Wife

Pairing : Sakusa Kiyoomi x Female!Reader x Miya Atsumu

Warning : blood ig, curse words, attempted rape, torture, and mentions of death

Credits : to the artists regarding the drawings of Sakusa Kiyoomi and Miya Atsumu found on the banner- i saved them from pinterest I think.

Note : do not copy or repost this anywhere else. I do not write Haikyuu!! fics anywhere else.

Y/n Miya-Sakusa was scared. No- scratch that- you were terrified.

You wouldn’t show it to your captors though- your husbands taught you to never show fear- but Jesus Christ- you were terrified not only for yourself but more so for your unborn child- a child you didn’t even know existed until half an hour before you got kidnapped from your own room. For the past hour that you’ve been tied to a chair in the middle of the room, they haven’t touched your body. The same couldn’t be said for your face. Half of your face was covered in slightly dried blood; blood that came a wound you got when they slammed your head against the edge of your beside drawer to knock you unconscious, and a spilt lip that was still bleeding slightly from when they punched you when you spat at the face of the person who demanded your husbands’ locations and the locations of all your warehouses. The thought alone made you scoff- you’re no rat. Unlike whoever the hell gave your home’s location away. Your husbands were going to be so pissed when they find you gone and your shared room thrashed about.

Sitting on the wooden chair was become a pain in the ass. Literally. You couldn’t even escape because of the metal cuffs attached to your wrists, forearms, and ankles and they took your daggers away. You’re stuck and all you can do it wait. Wait for either your husbands to burst through the door or wait for your promised torture session and possible death.

Minutes- hours- who knows how long later, two men in black barged into the room, startling you from your daydream carrying knives with guns in their holsters. Well... looks like your Omi and Tsumu are too late huh...

“Ready, Princess?” thing 1 with an eyepatch said with a smile, showing his yellow teeth, “Boss said we gots to kill ye before yer husbands get here. Ye know, so they barge in ‘ere only to see yer bleeding body. Even better if they get to see yer naked corpse, doncha think?”

“Boss said not to rape her tho-” thing 1 interrupted thing 2, “what boss doesn’t know won’t hurt ‘im. And besides- I wanna leave Miya a surprise for stabbing my eye.”

And just as thing 1 started moving towards you, a scream was heard from outside the door and echoed into the room, sending shivers down things 1 and 2’s spines. You, on the hand, smiled. They’re here... fucking finally.

“What was that?” Thing 2 looked around nervously. Huh- he must be new to the business. Poor guy he won’t make it far at this point. Thing 1 shrugged, “eh who cares? There’s no one we can’t kill.” he boasted. Dumb overconfident pig.

Another scream rang through followed by a shout of terror, “THEY’RE HERE!” that was cut off as a loud gunshot echoed through the walls followed by a series of bangs and clangs. The familiar sound brought you off guard- they brought everyone? You were sure that that clang was from Michinari’s favorite weapon- his metal bat. Where were you and who took you that they felt it necessary to have everyone here? You were brought out of your train of thoughts when you realized that all of a sudden everything and everyone was silent. All you can hear was your own heartbeat.

“Ah fuck it-” thing 1 looked at your form with a crazed look in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine.

“Dude what are you-”

“Well it’s obvious we won’t make it out alive-”

“Wait what?”

“-might as well have fun before we die, ey?”

With that said he closed the gap between you two. You felt your mind blank as tears started forming in your eyes. The moment he ripped Atsumu’s shirt from your person, the tears fell along with the loudest scream you could muster, “OMI! ATS-” you were cut off as thing 1 smacked your cheek with the butt of his gun, “shut up ye lil bitch. Yer not leavin til I get my f-”

Thing 2 was suddenly down- a hole on the side of his head. None of you even heard the door open so that meant Shinsuke was here- well him or Rintarou since they’re the stealthiest in your family.

Thing 1 suddenly stood up straight and placed his hands up with his palms up and blocking your view from whoever was with you two in the room, “hey uhhh I was forced to do this, mates- it- it wasn’t anything personal, yea?” Sat on a wooden chair in just your undergarments and the remnants of one of your husbands’ shirt, you let a small smile appear on your face. They’re here. You and your little bean are safe now.

Rintarou stepped out of the shadows and from his voice you could tell he looked bored, “so... where is she?”

Thing 1 shook his head, having lost his voice the moment his eyes met the bored yet malicious ones of one Suna Rintarou- one of the deadliest assassins of the Inarizaki family, and prayed that the fox wouldn’t notice your bleeding form behind him.

The moment you let out a sob, he pushed thing 1 away and squatted in front of you. And he was not happy with what he saw was done to you-

He saw your bloody and bruised face. He saw your shaking hands and the tears you let flow from your eyes. But what angered him the most was the fact that someone he viewed as his little sister lost the brightness is her eyes.

Any chance the idiot had with reasoning with him was gone.

“Congratulations, idiot. You’ve secured a spot in our personal dungeon.” Rintarou smiled as he heard a sharp thump before the telltale sound of a body hitting the ground, “you didn’t hit him too hard, did you, Shinsuke-san?”

“Not hard enough.”

“Ok- let’s get these off of you before your hubbies come in here,” with that said both men started unlocking the cuffs trapping you onto the chair. After freeing you, you were immediately hit with the feeling of fatigue and let your body fall onto the person closest to you. Shinsuke caught your semi-limp body and immediately became worried but calmed down as he felt your breaths. He arranged your position so that you were laying across his lap, facing the roof of the cell. Rintarou settled himself beside Shinsuke after texting Kiyoomi your location- receiving an immediate reply that they’ll be there as soon as Atsumu is out of his blood haze. Shinsuke brushed his hand through your hair but immediately stopped when you whimpered, “hit- t-table- home.”

The two men exchanged worried glances when you stared up at them with your eyelids slowly closing. Rintarou tapped your cheek, “Y/n-chan, stay awake- how do you feel right now?”

“Aish of all the questions Rin-”

“B-baby...”

“Kiyoomi-san and Tsumu will be he-”

“M-my baby...” their eyes widened as you shakily placed your hand onto your tummy before falling limp in Shinsuke’s arms. He refrained from panicking when he saw your chest still rising and falling in patterns- you probably fainted from exhaustion.

“Holy shi-”

“Y/N!”

The moment the two saw your limp body they assumed the worst- but as Atsumu was about to yell out his rage and sorrow, Osamu appeared from the shadows and hit the back of his head, “she’s breathing, you moron.”

“I knew that, shitface.”

“Who ya callin’ shitface, ya pig?”

“Who ya callin’ a pi-”

“Aran,” Kiyoomi calmly spoke as he turned to face the hitman- ignoring his husband and brother-in-law, “lead the way out- make sure that there will be no delays. We must take Y/n to Motoya immediately- we don’t know the extent of her wounds- however they look... less than favorable as of the moment.”

At the reminder of your current condition, the twins shutted up, “Osamu,”

“Yeah, Omi-san?”

“Bring that thing with us.” was muttered with great disdain while his finger was pointed towards the unconscious thing 1.

And so they left the building covered in blood with neutral faces.

They may not show it but they were livid.

They didn’t miss your tear and blood stained face nor the the fact that your shirt was ripped right down the middle.

They knew what was going to happen to you had they been a second late.

“Hitoshi and Heisuke are already tracking the rats- we’ll have them in the basement by tonight,” informed Kiyoomi’s trustworthy gunsmith, Tsukasa Iizuna.

“They better- only question now is who gets first dibs on the assholes.”

As they settled into the car, Shinsuke told them the news of your latest surprise. He knew that they’d go even more ballistic were they to find out during the check-up from Motoya. But since they were in a closed and moving car with you on their laps, they couldn’t really do much except stiffen and let their rage grow stronger- and he looks forward to seeing what they’ll do to the bastards tonight. Shinsuke, above all things, is a man of honor- and what he hates above all things, are traitors.

“PLEASE! I’M SORRY! PLEA- AHHH” Thing 1 screamed as Kiyoomi dug his dagger deeper into the man’s shoulder- forming a hollow hole of sort.

“Just a little more... I want to see if your bones are clean or if they need to cleansed as well-”

“Omi-omi~ I want my turn !” whined Atsumu as he crossed his arms and pouted at his husband.

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, “you had your turn five minutes ago when you spilled acid onto his legs- it’s my turn now.” with that said, Kiyoomi ripped his dagger from the man’s flesh without a warning and grabbing a bowl from the prisoner’s ‘meal’, poured the bowl of scalding hot soup into the hollow flesh.

And as the man wailed, the two traitors squirmed in fear as they awaited their turns.

“We don’t usually go to this extent but what can we say...”

“No one messes with our wife.”

please reblog if you liked it hehe 🥺🥰

#hq!!#hq x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu mafia au #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #miya atsumu x reader #sakuatsu #sakusa kiyoomi x miya atsumu #poly

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greensaplinggrace · 3 years

Text

What Is There To Celebrate About the Darkling? (Part 3)

1 2 3 4

His shadow powers are so badass, literally how could you not celebrate him for that alone?

Villain wears black trope REPRESENT.

The way his cloak billows dramatically in episode one before Alina enters the Fold.

The way his cloak billows in general.

His little face in the background after his and Alina’s first kiss as he tries to compose himself.

Him knocking on the table in episode five when he gets back to see Alina. My mans was so hopeful that he’d finally get to third base with the love of his life. RIP.

Large hands. Very tall.

The way he literally cannot tear his eyes away from Alina during the entire scene where Alina dresses him and they have their first kiss.

The softest looking hair I’ve ever seen. I can’t believe Alina got to run her hands through it and she still left him.

How he urgently looks around for Alina outside after she leaves in episode five, right before he confronts Baghra. He’s very frantic and panting and clearly concerned and not being subtle at all about his emotions.

Also the way he walks when he’s leaving Baghra, with his hands stuck out to the side and his fists clenching and unclenching as his form grows smaller in the distance. He looks like a tiny penguin waddling away.

Son’s evil dastardly bastard plans once again thwarted by own mother. Can you imagine living for an eternity and never being free of your parents? Fuck all that other shit, no wonder he went darkside.

“She is all that matters now, not me. She is the future. She is the one-” SIMP

His little smile before he goes to answer the door after they kiss. The way his hold on her lingers as if he can’t bear to part with her. Forehead touch. They are giggling.

The way he runs back in for another kiss. This man is so gone it’s not even funny.

He calls her to him in the books and she spends the entire time agonizing over how upset he’s going to be. The man literally just wants to ask her about her day.

Defends Alina to Baghra after he witnesses her getting harassed. Defends himself to Baghra after she treats him like shit. Love that for him.

“I made something.” / “Let me make a mark on this world before I leave it.” / “It’s my own name I’m afraid of forgetting.” / “He understood then. The Grisha lived as shadows, passing over the surface of the world, touching nothing. Forced to change their shapes and hide in corners, driven by fear as shadows were driven by the sun. No safe place. No haven.” / “There will be, he promised the darkness, words written upon his heart. I will make one.”

Him offering Alina his kvas. They drink from the same glass.

Sasha “no thoughts head empty only Alina” Morozova having to look away and calm himself when Alina licks her lips after drinking his kvas.

Literally his entire confrontation with Kaz. Absolutely hilarious. Local centuries old Black Heretic gets bested by a teenager with one (1) flash grenade.

“I never intended for it to be the blight it’s become.” - Genuine regret. A+++.

Asks Mal what Alina’s favorite flowers are and then gives them to her. Was it manipulative? Yes. Was it awful? Absolutely. Was it the funniest and smoothest shit I’ve ever seen? 100%. I laughed my ass off.

Alina: *enters the fete dressed in the black kefta* *Darkling.exe has stopped working*

This man takes one look at her lack of guards and goes: what’s more important than how beautiful the wifey looks? her safety. *protective bf mode initiated*

He admires how pretty he appears in the mirror of his room with absolutely zero shame and 100% pride. We stan a vain icon in this house💕. Also the mirror is in front of the bed?!?! 👀👀👀

His knife ring.

“You looked like you needed saving,” as fire plays across his features and he looks at Alina with an expression that makes my soul want to splinter into pieces. The implications, the pain.

Will display his complete and utter adoration for Alina in front of the entire Court including the King and Queen despite the fact that that is the worst thing he could possibly do in the political environment.

“No ordinary tracker. No ordinary girl. Orphans of Keramzin reunited. AdOrAbLe.” - How do you say you have issues without saying you have issues?

The way he eclipses Alina when he’s stepping down from the dais. The inherent romantic symbolism of the eclipse and what that means for him.

Him getting excited about the stag to the point where he’s eagerly rummaging through the maps on his table and urgently asking Mal tons of questions.

The five second delay in his thoughts as he processes that Mal isn’t cooperating. Poor guy really thought that everything was finally coming up Sasha for once.

He constantly uplifts Alina after Baghra’s emotional abuse. He constantly helps her with her self esteem and reassures her that she’s doing well and that she just needs more time.

“Yeah I don’t know what Baghra’s summoning ability is,” he said, like a liar.

Even after Baghra suggests that Alina left he doesn’t believe it. He has to hear it from Kaz after searching for ages before he finally begins to believe it.

“You smuggle Grisha out of MY PALACE!”

Titty grab during the kiss scene.

He lifts her up onto the table!!

Local whipped dark overlord gets excited that Fedyor has found Alina and has to suffer through the embarrassment of acting like a lovesick fool when he learns it’s just about Nina.

His relationship with Nikolai.

The fact that Alina’s scarf blows past him before they even meet.

The way he nods with such an understanding expression when the Conductor is lying his ass off as if he sympathizes with everything the other man is saying and isn’t secretly planning his elaborate murder.

Puppy dog eyes all the time.

Every time his smile is forced and ingenuine and he looks like he’s about to stab someone.

Every time his smile is genuine and he looks super soft and loving.

“You have no chance, ShAdoW mAn.” Literally how is he ever going to recover from this.

His hands motions when he summons. I just think they’re neat.

He kills the Conductor. Hated that guy. And he looked sexy as fuck doing it.

He hates the Druskelle, he hates the Ravkan monarchy. I can relate.

He’s NOT a bootlicker, unlike some.

Dad mode gets activated when David raises his hand. Aleksander just goes along with it like an exasperated father.

Ben Barnes nose scronch.

He begs for Luda’s life.

“Merzost feeds on us. I forbid it!” two seconds later *frantic rummaging through notes on the merzost* *reading the Forbidden Knowledge™ without any hesitation* *Immediate Disaster Occurs*

“Mom look what I made!” “Your art is atrocious and you’re no longer my son.”

His history was written by the victors. The tale of the Black Heretic is straight up propaganda by the corrupt monarchy.

Immortal old man caught in a young adult love triangle: I read your letters. Malyen “what the fuck is happening on this here day” Oretsev: ??!?!?!!! who even are you??

Aleksander admitting he needs Alina.

Darklina hand holds.

He did not have to make that episode eight hand-hold on the skiff so sensual but he did it anyways.

The way he hides under his cloak like a turtle when Jesper shoots at him.

He looks so awkward and isolated at the fete surrounded by all of those colorful nobles.

He’s always ready to murder a bitch and honestly I respect that.

Would kill for his gf.

That entire scene where he kisses Alina in the snow in the books like the most awkward motherfucker and then goes “wtf just happened?! Darkling out” before fleeing the scene of the Emotion.

He’s eternally confused by his feelings for Alina and it’s hilarious.

“Looking for trouble, and if I cannot find it I will create it.”

He’s basically just a moth attracted to a fatal light. RIP.

The way he throws open double doors like a man on a mission.

“Follow.”

He’s utterly precious and I would die for him. 🖤

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vashak · 3 years

Text

Eiji’s war

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Originally posted on 22 December 2019 in Turkish here.

No, I’m not done yet.

I previously wrote about how Eiji found a new purpose in life after meeting Ash and getting to know his world, which helped him come out of the depression he suffered back in Japan. But what exactly is Eiji’s new purpose in life? It’s saving Ash from his very “different” world.

In the beginning of the story, we saw how devastated Eiji was when he found out that Ash was ready to use his one and only trump card (the capsule containing the Banana Fish drug) against Golzine, knowing full well that he wouldn’t win.

Ash had risked his own life to save Eiji’s when he didn’t know him at all and now Eiji doesn’t have the heart to let him walk to his death. It’s like he’s thinking to himself, “How can a boy my age find himself in such an impasse?” This is the first time we see Eiji rebel against the world Ash’s living in.

But Eiji does more than silently shed tears, especially once things get more complicated. For example, here he’s basically telling Ash to quit doing things that would put him in harm’s way.

Later, when it becomes clear that there’s no “quitting” in this world (because they simply won’t let you), Eiji comes up with a different suggestion.

And this offer is so unexpected that Ash doesn’t understand at first. Eiji simply asks him again if he would like to come to Japan with him. He is presumably surprised that Ash was so taken aback by such a straightforward question. Ash’s surprise is telling me that he never even thought it would be possible to leave this life behind.

Eiji’s offer also means this: I forgive you. Going to Japan to start a new life means that Ash won’t have to account for all the bad things he did in the past. Ash doesn’t believe there’s such a possibility or that he deserves such a chance. So he averts his gaze and comes up with an excuse. I just realized that there’s a pattern here. When Ash makes such excuses, he always puts himself down as if to say he’s not worthy of Eiji’s offer. But then, as you’ll see in the scene below, he realizes that this attitude only serves to embarrass Eiji, so he stops and apologizes.

What this scene inherently tells us is just how ashamed Ash feels about the things he was forced to do all his life. It is also a good example of the difference in opinion between Ash and Eiji—while Ash thinks so little of himself, Eiji thinks the world of him.

When Eiji repeats his offer to go to Japan together a second time, he can’t stay so calm.

Because by then, Ash gave himself up to Golzine as hostage in exchange for Eiji’s life, underwent an eating disorder, started a guerilla war, got raped and is still fighting against commandos as they’re having this conversation.

This time, Ash tells him what he really thinks instead of coming up with excuses. He says “My hands are dirty with other people’s blood,” implying that he doesn’t deserve a fresh start. “But you had to. Or you would be killed yourself,” replies Eiji, whereas previously, when they were quarreling before Ash’s one-to-one fight with Arthur, Eiji had yelled “You are not the kind of man who shoots defenseless people!” to his face. It seems that Eiji has learned the cruel ways of Ash’s world since then.

There is another reason why Ash is not taking Eiji up on his offer besides thinking that he doesn’t deserve a fresh start. Ash thinks he’s a troublemaker and will put those around him in danger no matter where he is (I talked more about this here). And as expected, he tells Eiji exactly that: “I’m bad news, Eiji. Doesn’t matter where I go… And you’ll get caught up in it. Like you are now.”

We know by now that Eiji never even once stayed silent when Ash said something to stigmatize himself. He always told Ash otherwise and explained why in a perfectly logical way. All this time, he calmly and patiently fought against Ash’s toxic mindset. But this time, he’s had enough.

This is the first time Eiji puts his emotions into words in such a raw way. He literally screams how much he cares about Ash. And a minute later, he indisputably proves just how much by pushing Ash away and taking bullet for him.

This incident resets all the progress Eiji’s so far made to change Ash’s self-loathing mindset. The fact that Eiji almost died because of him and later Lao’s tirade against Ash in front of all the gang members (“He ain’t human! He’s a goddamn monster!”) make Ash feel ashamed and disgusted at himself.

Then comes the wretched hospital scene… This scene is drenched in symbolism, but it actually serves to make us understand one simple fact: Similar to how Eiji can’t survive in Ash’s world, Ash will never be accepted in Eiji’s world. Eiji’s not capable of protecting himself in Ash’s world. He’ll always be vulnerable as long as he stays there. And in Eiji’s world, Ash will never be accepted by others in the way Eiji accepts Ash. He’ll ultimately be seen as a criminal rather than a victim and will have to answer to the law for what he did.

So Ash enters the hospital. He’s been reminded in the most painful way that he can never be part of Eiji’s world and has come to say goodbye to his friend one last time. Eiji vaguely hears Ash’s accented “sayounara” and crawls out of bed with great difficulty to stop him from leaving (Ash can’t pronounce the second syllable long, but instead says “sa-yo-na-ra”). But just then, Charlie and Ibe-san notice Ash and come after him. Eiji knows that even if they have good intentions now, eventually Ash will be found guilty. And, for the first time in his life, Eiji tells Ash to leave him. He screams “Go!” with all his might. The anime adaptation did a wonderful job showing us how difficult this must have been for Eiji to do.

I think Eiji inherently knew that this was the last time he would see Ash. But he refused to believe it, because that would mean that he himself had surrendered to the fatalistic mindset that he was trying to liberate Ash from. So what does Eiji do next? What he does best, of course.

Remember when Eiji wanted to pass a message to Ash through his gang members when Ash tried to send him back to Japan without telling him? He asked Bones and Kong to tell Ash to “take care of his life” and that he would “always wish him luck” even from far away.

So this time, Eiji writes a letter to Ash in case he can’t see him before going to Japan. He pours in all that he feels. The letter ends up being the most earnest summary of everything Eiji has been trying to make Ash understand.

… You said to me before, “We live in different worlds” … We are friends. Isn’t that enough? … But I never felt scared of you, not even once … Actually, I always felt that you are hurt, much more than me—that your spirit is wounded … I always wanted to protect you … I think I wanted to protect you from your future … You can change your fate …

Eiji wants these words to accompany Ash while he’s away: “You are not alone, Ash. I am with you. My soul is always with you.” The one-way ticket to Japan he encloses with the letter serves as a reminder of his invitation. We know that Eiji had every intention of seeing Ash again from his thoughts on the plane. What didn’t cross his mind at all was without a doubt that Ash would draw his last breath as he read Eiji’s heartfelt words.

When it comes to Ash’s death, I feel overwhelmed with a series of unanswered questions as I previously indicated here and here. For example…

When Sing can’t get Ash to say anything to Eiji, he can’t bear to face Eiji empty-handed so he sees him off with a few made-up parting words in Ash’s stead (Aww, isn’t he precious?). Does Eiji ever realize this? Can he tell that Sing made up Ash’s parting words? I think he can. So does he ever confront Sing about this before or after Garden of Light? Who knows.

And just how much does Eiji know about Ash’s death? He knows that his letter distracted Ash, so he didn’t see Lao coming. But does he know that Ash had read part of his letter by then and started running to the airport? Does he know that Ash went back to the library after getting wounded to read the rest of his letter? Does he know that Ash laid his head on his letter and died with a smile on his face?

I really wish for a “yes” to these questions.

To me, the story of Banana Fish is more antagonistic towards Eiji than Ash. Yes, all the bad stuff happen to Ash but he’s never shocked that they do. The leopard has learned how harsh the ascent can be. Eiji, on the other hand, believes he can save Ash from this shitty world. He is proven wrong a number of times but he never stops believing that. As I mentioned in the answer to this ask, if you think about it, in the end Ash dies just like he knew he would.

He is stabbed by a street thug who held a grudge against him and dies just like that. In the end, he couldn’t change his fate like Eiji tried to make him believe. In the end, the leopard couldn’t climb down the mountain. But what’s remarkable is that Eiji never surrenders to Ash’s fatalistic mindset even after his death. Not even once. He never says things like “He was right after all and I was wrong. He couldn’t change his fate and trouble never ever left him alone.” Instead he says this:

The End

#thank you for reading this far!#eiji's war #banana fish #eiji okumura #banana fish manga #meta #analiz #yorum #banana fish türkçe #english #şekerli

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petrichoravellichor · 3 years

Text

Title: A New Kind of Life

Wordcount: ~10k

Rating: T

Summary: What if, when Sam and Dean break into the Empty, Cas isn’t the only one they save? A post-15x19 fix-it fic in which Crowley gets a second shot at the redemption (and family) he deserves.

(Read on Ao3)

********************

Chapter 1 (of 5) (Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Chs. 4 & 5)

“Crowley! Wake up, you son of a bitch, wake up!”

Crowley opens his eyes to Dean shaking him hard by the shoulders. Which is strange: the last thing Crowley remembers, he was dying, alone and forgotten in a parallel universe.

He isn’t there anymore. Instead, Dean is kneeling over him in a dome of golden light beyond which everything is dark, and for a brief, absurd moment he’ll chastise himself for later, Crowley thinks he’s somehow ended up in Heaven.

Then he glances past Dean and sees Sam with an exhausted-looking Castiel slumped against him; next to them is a younger man Crowley doesn’t recognize, but his eyes are molten gold, the same color as the dome surrounding them all. The amount of raw power emanating from the golden-eyed man makes every one of Crowley’s hairs stand on end, and not in a good way.

No, definitely not his idea of Heaven.

Crowley snaps his gaze back to Dean. “What—” he begins, but Dean cuts him off, hauling him to his feet.

“No time for questions!” Dean yells, and it’s only then that Crowley registers the roar coming from beyond the dome: it’s as though they’re standing in the eye of a hurricane as all around them things blow apart. “Come on, we gotta go!”

And then they’re all running, the dome of light moving with them like a shield as wispy black wraiths crash and burn against its perimeter and somewhere unseen, a hideous voice howls in rage.

*****

Once they’re safely back in the Bunker war room, Dean takes hold of Castiel and, along with the golden-eyed man—whose irises have faded to a soft, concerned blue—ushers him off in the direction of the infirmary, promising gruffly as he goes that he and Crowley will talk later.

Patience, however, is a virtue, and Crowley isn’t feeling particularly virtuous—especially not after seeing how tenderly Dean and Castiel looked at each other as Dean wrapped an arm around the angel’s waist and led him from the room. The sight had left a bitter taste in Crowley’s mouth, one he does his best to ignore. There will be time for that later; right now, he needs answers, and he’s not waiting on Dean in order to get them.

He crosses his arms and fixes Sam with an expectant glare. “All right, Moose,” he says, "out with it: what in God’s name is going on?”

Sam snorts, looking tired. “Um, yeah, about that...” He gestures towards the map table, then heads over to the liquor cabinet. “You...might wanna sit down.”

Crowley arches a brow, but he does as Sam suggests. Sam joins him a moment later and, after pouring them each a drink, spends the better part of the next hour telling Crowley all that’s transpired in the three years—three years—Crowley’s been dead.

Which is, it turns out, rather a lot.

Lucifer’s spawn survived his birth and is none other than the golden-eyed man Crowley saw when he woke up; his name is Jack, and for all intents and purposes, he considers Castiel to be his father.

An alternate version of Michael got a hold of Dean for a while, until Jack killed Michael at the cost of his soul, then, in a soulless rage, killed Mary.

God killed Jack. All Hell broke loose. Rowena, who’d apparently survived Lucifer’s last attempt to kill her, died to fix it and was now Queen of Hell.

Billie brought Jack back to kill God. Dean tried to kill Billie, so Billie tried to kill him. Castiel managed to take Billie out by admitting his love for Dean, at which point the Empty took Castiel—

Of course, thinks Crowley, the bitter taste in his mouth returning with a vengeance. Of. Bloody. Course...

The brothers had stormed the Empty not for him, but for Castiel. Good, noble, righteous Castiel, the wayward Angel of Thursday who’s been hopelessly in love with Dean for longer than Crowley has known him...and whom, it seems, Dean has finally admitted to loving back. Sam and Dean had saved Castiel because they loved him, because Dean loved him, but Crowley...They’d probably only rescued him because they’d figured they owed him for saving their denim-clad arses that day at the lake.

Now, as Crowley half-listens to Sam talk about defeating God, he glowers down at the map table and wishes they hadn’t bothered bringing him back at all, because it’s one thing to die unloved; it’s another to have to live that way. Crowley’s done both, and he knows which he prefers. At least in the Empty, he’d been at peace.

“Crowley? Hey, you okay?”

He looks up to see Sam regarding him from under a furrowed brow. Bollocks...

“Naturally,” Crowley says, leaning back in his chair with a dismissive smile. “That’s quite a tale, Moose. It sounds like you and Squirrel have outdone yourselves these past few years, even managed to pull one over on God; bravo. I’m sure Lucifer’s spawn will make a spectacular replacement: he is, after all, three.”

Sam’s eyes harden. “Jack’s nothing like Lucifer; he’s good, and he’s got us to help him, and Amara—”

“Oh, Amara! Now there’s a recipe for success if I’ve ever heard one: God’s evil sister and her Satanic great-nephew with billions of raw souls at their disposal. How could that possibly go wrong?” Crowley scoffs, shaking his head. “Honestly, there’s just no learning with you lot, is there? You just keep humming the same damn tune, then acting surprised when the notes turn sour, and it never even occurs to you to pick. A new. Bloody. Song.”

The frown on Sam’s face intensifies. “This is different. Jack, Amara, they’re on our side, and now that Rowena’s in charge of Hell—”

Crowley snorts. “Right. Care to wager on how long that lasts?” Then, at the look of sudden wariness on Sam’s face, he rolls his eyes. “Calm down, Moose; that wasn’t me plotting a coup. I have no plans to try and take back the crown.”

“You don’t?”

“Why on earth would I?” Crowley takes a sip of brandy, grimacing slightly at the flavor—for all the changes the past few years have wrought, the Winchesters’ abominable taste in liquor remains tragically consistent. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I hated Hell as much as the blasted place hated me. If Mother thinks she can do better, she can have it.”

They sit without speaking for a moment; then Sam clears his throat. “You know,” he says quietly, “Rowena regrets how things ended between the two of you.”

Crowley stiffens, a stab of anger piercing his gut. “No, she doesn’t.”

“She does,” Sam insists, and how anyone can look so stupidly earnest is beyond Crowley’s ability to comprehend. “She told us so.”

Crowley scoffs. “And you believed her?” he demands, left hand closing into a fist at his side. “You know, for the longest time, I thought you were the smart one.”

Sam sighs. “Crowley...Look, I’m not saying Rowena’s perfect—”

“She’s quite literally the Queen of Hell, Moose.” Crowley manages to keep his voice level, but his fingernails are digging into his palm. “I’d say that’s about as far from perfect as anyone can get.”

“—but I think you two should talk.”

Crowley’s hand starts to bleed.

“I mean it,” continues Sam, when Crowley says nothing. “When I was a kid, my dad...he wasn’t there the way he should’ve been, and we fought a lot, and there were times I felt like I hated him, but when he died...”

A multitude of emotions flicker across Sam’s face in rapid succession, too fast for Crowley to name them all, but the final one, the one Sam looks back at him with, is regret. “When he died,” Sam continues, “I didn’t care about any of that. And maybe I should have. I know I should have. Believe me, I tried. But I just...kept coming back to the fact that what I was feeling, the good and the bad, I’d never get to actually say it to him, and if he was somehow sorry for the bad, that was something I’d never get to hear.”

Crowley’s anger flares white hot; his hidden palm is slick with blood. “If you have a point,” he growls, “I’d encourage you to come out with it.”

“My point,” says Sam, curtly, “is that you actually have a chance at some closure, and I think you should take it. For your own sake.”

Crowley clenches his jaw, looks away. “For my own sake,” he echoes, softly. As if his and Sam’s pain is the same. As if Rowena is capable of causing anything but. “Tell me, Moose: since when do you or your imbecile of a brother actually give a damn about my own sake?”

He raises his gaze to stare coldly at Sam who, for the first time since they sat down, seems at a genuine loss for words. Crowley snaps his glass down on the table and stands. “Thought as much.”

He shoves his hands in his coat pockets and turns to go—where, exactly, he has no idea—only to nearly crash headlong into Dean, and suddenly, Crowley’s anger turns to outright fury, because at the end of the day, it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter that Crowley had gone up against Hell and his mother and even his own better judgment for Dean more times than he could count.

It didn’t matter that the two of them had shared a bed when Dean was a demon, doing extraordinary things to triplets that Crowley would have kicked out in a heartbeat if he’d thought he could get away with it.

It didn’t matter that Crowley had sacrificed his life to save Dean and Sam and the whole bloody world.

None of it mattered, because for all the times Crowley had chosen Dean, Dean had never once chosen him. Then again, Crowley thinks, maybe it’s his own fault for expecting any different, his due comeuppance for stupidly believing he deserved to be loved. It doesn’t matter; he knows better now.

“Hello, Dean,” he snarls. “Come to look in on me now that you’ve seen to your angel? Well you needn’t have bothered; I was just leaving.”

Dean frowns, crossing his arms. “The hell do you mean, you’re leaving?”

“I mean get out of my way.”

“No.”

“And why not?” Crowley demands, voice rising. “Am I your prisoner? I’ve already told your oaf of a brother that I’ve no interest in causing any sort of trouble in Hell, so if that’s what this is about, then you can just—”

“Damn it, Crowley,” snaps Dean, “no, that’s not what this is about; it’s about where are you even gonna go. You got a place somewhere we don’t know about?”

“I’ll find one.”

“Or,” Dean counters, “you could cut the crap and just stay here.”

That catches Crowley off guard, but only for a moment; he gives Dean a hard look, determined not to let the surprise show on his face. “And why on earth would I want to do that?”

“Because you know it’s the smart thing to do,” says Dean, face impassive, “and last I checked, you were an asshole, not an idiot.”

And it’s not that Crowley doesn't know full well that running off half-cocked into a world whose dynamics have fundamentally changed is naive at best and suicidal at worst—that isn’t what makes him nearly scream in rage, because he knows it’s patently true. No, the infuriating thing, the truly mortifying thing, is that Dean knows him well enough to know that he knows it, and that if Crowley does leave, he’s only going to prove Dean right.

The thought is more than Crowley can bear; still, if he doesn’t get out of this room right now, he’s going to start shouting—at Dean, at himself, at everything. There are other, less crowded places in this godforsaken Bunker, and it’s past time he went and found one. He’s not going to give Dean the satisfaction of watching him break.

Crowley pulls his fury tight and close, stepping forward into Dean’s space and glaring up at him with every bit of defiance he can muster. “Funny,” he sneers, “because last I checked, you were both.”

And he vanishes before Dean can respond.

*****

Crowley finds an unoccupied room at the far end of the hall and decides to claim it as his own for the time being. He bolts the door and turns to collapse onto the bed...only to freeze dead in his tracks.

His mother is standing in the corner. As Crowley gapes, Rowena takes a step forward, face pale and incredulous. “Fergus?” she whispers. “Gods, is it really you?”

Her voice snaps Crowley out of his shock, and he narrows his eyes. “Mother,” he growls, the word like poison in his mouth. “What do you want?”

“Sam told me they were going to try and get you back,” Rowena says softly, eyes roving over Crowley’s face as though seeing him for the first time, “and I wanted...I needed to see if they’d done it, if you were all right.”

Crowley glares, making a mental note to have a word with Sam about this particular indiscretion. “Well, you’ve seen me. Now get out.”

Rowena recoils, and if Crowley didn’t know any better, he’d swear his words actually hurt her. “You’re angry,” she says. “You’re angry, and you’ve every right to be, but if you’d just let me explain—”

“Explain what?” Crowley snaps. He clenches both hands into fists, ignoring the burn in his left palm. “What could you possibly have to say to me that I’d want to hear? You hate me, remember?”

“I love you—”

Crowley barks out a laugh. “Really? Have you forgotten the last time we saw each other? You left on a bus after you sent my son to his death, all because you wanted to watch me ‘suffer the loss of a child’, of my child!” He stumbles towards her, half-blind with rage. “Tell me, Mother: did losing me bring you any suffering, or were you just sad you weren’t there to collect three pigs in exchange?”

Rowena looks as though she’s been slapped. “Of course I suffered! Do you have any idea what I went through trying to get you back? I faced Death herself; I begged her to return you to me, but she wouldn’t do it! Ask Sam, ask Dean!”

“They’ve already told me,” Crowley grinds out. “It doesn’t matter.”

“How can you say that?” Rowena is crying now, tears rolling freely down her face. “Of course it matters! I did it because I missed you, because I love you!”

“You’ve never loved me a day in your life.”

“That isn’t true! I did love you; I do!” Rowena takes another step forward and reaches out a hand. “If you could just find it in your heart to forgive me—”

“Forgive you?” Crowley snarls, and it’s all he can do not to spit in her face. “You don’t get to ask for my forgiveness, not after any one thing you’ve put me through, not after everything! What was it you said to me that day at the bus station, your parting words? ‘Who better than me to crush your shriveled heart’? At least I had a heart, once; you never did.”

“Fergus—”

And Crowley explodes. “GET OUT!” he screams, seizing the lamp off the bedside table and hurling it at his mother with all his might...only to watch as it flies right through her and crashes into the wall.

And then Rowena’s gone, just like she always is, and Crowley’s alone, just like he always is. He stands in the middle of the room and stares hollowly into empty space. “Astral projection,” he says, quietly; it always had been one of his mother’s favorite tricks. “Of course.”

He spends the rest of the night warding the room as many ways as he knows how, determined not to let his mother or anyone else get the drop on him again.

#crowley #spn crowley #fergus macleod #crowley macleod #crowley fic #spn #supernatural #supernatural fix-it fic #spn fix-it fic #fanfiction #a new kind of life #my writing #here we gooooo!!!

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Handled

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Combining 2 Anonymous requests for this: I was wondering if you could do a Juice x female reader, where reader has been kidnapped by a rival gang and beaten for info, that she doesn't spill. And, in a sort of exchange, two men stab her in front of the sons, including her old man (Juice), and she instantly rages and just does some out of the blue ninja shit that they didn't even know she could do, and takes them out before dropping to the floor. & what if, we/you had a scenario where the reader drops into the splits to trip up two guys because they're charging her or something - literally don't mind which guy is for the pairing and whether fluff or stuff ensues. I kinda just want to see it written in your style. Like, "since when could she do that" and, etc.

Warnings: language, depictions of violence, blood, injuries, murder

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written a fight fic but I think I did alright! Had to throw in a little bit of Juice being a lil softy because it isn’t truly a Juice fic from me without it haha. Enjoy! xo

SOA Taglist: @mijop @adela-topaz-caelon @masterlistforimagines @garbinge @chibsytelford @xladymacbethx @i-just-read-stuff (If you want to be tagged in my fics don’t hesitate to reach out and let me know!)

You’d been put in a lot of compromising positions because of your proximity to the club. You’d been hauled in for questioning more times than you could count, and you’d gone toe-to-toe with a lot of people that you never wanted to have to cross paths with again. Being involved with the Sons meant you had to know how to defend yourself, because they weren’t always going to be around to do it for you. They might be your second family, and you might be someone’s old lady, but for you that was never an excuse to not be able to handle your own shit.

Long before you even knew who Juice Ortiz was, you were involved with Samcro. Growing up in Charming you couldn’t avoid knowing about them, and somewhere along the lines during your rebellious teenage years, you fell into the fold of the club and the community that surrounded it. You went from a silent presence, to a true friend of the MC, to an old lady. It was the wildest ride but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

You remembered when Juice started prospecting—all smiles and full of jokes. If anyone had asked you for your opinion then, you would’ve said that the MC was going to chew him up and spit him out. But you would’ve been wrong, and in the midst of all the chaos the two of you ended up together. He was good for you, always kept you laughing. And you were good for him, too, helping him not spiral out and get ahead of himself—you kept him grounded. The bedlam was manageable when you faced it as a team.

All of that was running at hyper speed through your head as you found yourself bound to a chair in the back of an old warehouse. Being detained in an interrogation room at a police station was a stay at a five-star hotel compared to what you were going through now. It made you miss it. The metallic taste of blood coated the inside of your mouth. You spit it onto the concrete, staining it red. You mustered the deepest breath you could as you looked back up at the men who had taken you.

“I told you,” you shook your head, “I don’t know shit. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,” you pulled against the restraints on your wrists, “I’m not a fucking rat.”

You felt another blow land to your stomach and you grunted, trying as hard as you could to bite back the pain. It was bad enough that you were stuck in this situation to begin with, you didn’t want to give any extra satisfaction of showing more pain than you had to. You were fidgeting and twisting your wrists relentlessly as you tried to loosen the binds. For a moment you thought that you were getting somewhere, but that sense of victory quickly got pushed to the side when you heard a clamoring coming from the other end of the warehouse. You had a feeling that you knew exactly who it was that was causing the ruckus, and you had never been so relieved to hear the yelling and cussing of some of your favorite men on the planet.

“Go!” one of the men shouted to the other, nodding in the direction of the noise, “Handle that. I’ll take care of her.”

As soon as the other man was a few strides away, you figured you weren’t going to have a better moment to try and catch him by surprise. You’d managed to wriggle one hand out of the rope that had previously been tied around it, and the slack gave you the opportunity to untangle the other. Your wrists were raw and bleeding but you didn’t care—you were closer to freedom than you’d been in hours.

You kept your hands behind your back and waited for the right moment. There was a gunshot and the man in front of you was visibly torn—not wanting to leave you unattended but also not wanting to leave his partner to face the gunfire alone. Neither them nor you even knew how many people the Sons had sent your way.

“Fuck,” he muttered and took one last look at you before taking off towards the chaos.

As soon as his back was turned you reached and freed your ankles. You stood up and ran at the man’s back. You leapt and threw your arms around his throat, choking him as you took him down to the ground. You collapsed on top of him, arms still tight around his neck as he attempted to elbow you off of him.

By that point, the two pockets of disarray found each other. You had no idea what had happened to the guys’ guns but there was no shooting as they approached you. You looked up for a moment to see your other assailant sprinting back towards you, and you assumed that he was being chased by at least Juice, if not someone else as well.

The split second made your grip falter just slightly, and the man underneath you flung his head backwards, hitting you directly in the nose. You cursed as it knocked you backwards, blood instantly beginning to gush out of your nose. You saw the man rising to his feet and you did as well, as quickly as you could manage.

The blood dripping from your nose completely faded from your mind as you assessed the situation in front of you. The man who had just given you your bloody nose reached down into his boot, pulling out a switchblade. You would’ve been lying if you said that it didn’t send a jolt of fear down your spine. Fighting two-to-one was difficult enough, but being outnumbered and one of them having a knife was pushing it even for you.

You stanced up, ready to fight and do whatever you had to do to survive. You were able to dodge a few blows from the man who was empty-handed, all the while keeping the knife in view. It was just a matter of time before the two of them closed in on you and you knew that, you were just trying to buy yourself enough time to get some backup.

There was a sharp pain in your side as you felt an arm wrap around your throat from behind. You screamed out in pain, eyes clenching shut for a moment as you tried to focus on anything besides the fact that you knew there was a blade sticking into your side.

When you opened your eyes you saw Juice and Chibs come crashing onto the scene. In all the time you’d known him, you had never seen Juice look so hurt, so angry as when he was taking in the scene in front of him. Just as he stepped in to try and help, you reached, yanking the knife out of your side and swinging your back to jam it into the thigh of the man behind you.

He grunted, grip on your throat tightening for only a moment before loosening as he leaned forward onto you. You took the brief moment of weakness to twist yourself and sweep his legs out from underneath him.

The other man ran at you and without thinking you dropped down, legs splitting as you tripped the man running at you. You swung your legs and body so that you were straddling the man you stabbed before you ripped the knife from his thigh and repeatedly sank it into his stomach and torso.

You were just about to turn around and finish the job when you were gripped tight by the back of your neck. You instinctively threw your elbow back and were rewarded with a cracking sound. Just as you spun your body around you saw that Chibs was already grabbing the man, pressing a knife to the base of his throat.

You weren’t sure if it was the relief of knowing you finally had a helping hand, or the blood loss from the stab wound in your side, but suddenly the tension began to disappear from your body. So much had happened in a matter of seconds that even you really couldn’t process it all. You stumbled a few steps before you felt Juice’s arms wrap around you to keep you from falling completely to the ground. You let him support your full body weight as you pressed your hand against the gash in your side.

“Get here faster next time,” you let out a humorless laugh as you shut your eyes, trying to ignore the searing pain that was spreading through your body.

“In our defense, love, you had it handled jus’ fine on yer own,” Chibs was walking towards you and Juice, wiping blood from the blade of his knife onto his jeans.

“Can we finish this conversation later?” Juice’s voice was dripping with concern as he tried to figure out the best way to help you move without making your injuries any worse.

“I’ll be fine,” you shook your head slightly, not expecting to feel so lightheaded.

“You ripped a knife out of your own body and killed somebody with it,” Juice couldn’t take his eyes off of your face that was streaked with sweat and blood, “and while seeing you Hulk out was shocking and impressive, you also did just about the dumbest thing you could do with a stab wound.”

“But it at least looked cool, right?”

He shook his head, “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

You knew that his annoyance was rooted in concern. You would’ve been more concerned if they had shown up any later than they did. You weren’t going to heal up quickly by any means, but you’d survive. There was no doubt about that.

“I would’ve gotten that other guy too, you know,” you looked over at Chibs.

He chuckled as he stepped in, bracing the other side of you to help Juice assist you with walking, “I know. Just wanted in on the fun, that’s all. Next time I’ll leave it all to you.”

“There’s not gonna be a next time,” Juice shook his head, staring daggers at Chibs for even joking about the possibility.

“When yer all healed up, you’ll have to get the rest of us flexible enough to do that little drop and spin move ye did back there.”

You mustered what you could of a laugh as they helped you into the back of the van, “Liked that one, huh?”

“Will you stop making her talk?” Juice snapped.

Chibs held his hands up in mock surrender as he walked to the driver’s door, “Sorry. Jus’ didn’t know you were dating a lass who is a goddamn black belt.”

Juice stayed in the back with you, applying pressure to your side as he cradled your head in his lap. You could hear the unsteadiness in his breath as he tried to stay as calm as possible. He’d been in plenty of situations with bloodied and injured people before, but it was never you, it was never this bad. You reached and rested your hand on his knee, giving him a reassuring squeeze when you saw the sadness starting to creep into his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you tell him.

“Like what?”

“Like that,” you allowed yourself a small smile, “C’mon it’s gonna take more than a couple guys with some rope and a knife to do me in. I’m tougher than that.”

“I never said you weren’t tough.”

“I just feel like you should be a little more impressed, that’s all,” you laughed, immediately wincing once you did.

It got him to crack a small smile, “I’ll take the time to be impressed once you don’t have blood gushing out of your side or your face. Is that fair?”

“I guess,” you smiled, “I’d ask you to kiss me but I don’t think you want that right now.”

He dipped his head down, pressing his lips lightly against yours for a moment in a gentle kiss despite the blood all over your face, “That’s not to reward reckless behavior, you know.”

“All of our behavior is reckless,” you shook your head slightly.

“Oh sure,” Chibs piped up as he drove, “But I’m the one who was makin’ her talk.”

You smiled and Juice chuckled quietly. Both of you did fall into a comfortable silence after that, though. You listened to Chibs’ half of the conversation as he called to get medical help ready for you back at the clubhouse. You were just ready to get cleaned up. You could deal with the bandages and the stitches as long as you were able to take a shower and get the blood and grime off of you.

“I love you,” Juice’s voice was soft, “And I’m sor—”

You cut him off, “Just leave it at I love you.”

He smiled and you could see a little bit of the light return to his eyes, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#soa #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #juice ortiz #juice ortiz x reader #juice ortiz x you #juice ortiz imagine #juan carlos #juan carlos ortiz #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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dokidokey · 3 years

Text

somehow, the stranger who sat in front of you managed to snag the position your supposed date was supposed to be in after you got stood up.

fluffvember track 02: coffee shop

word count: 1,467

warnings: getting stood up, swearing

notes: you and kams talk shit about monoma (i am so sorry monoma stans (T＿T) pls forgive me) ALSO I HAVE 200 FOLLOWERS? THANK YOU SO MUCH OMFG I DO NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THAT INFORMATION ALL I CAN SAY IS THANK YOU (no milestone event tho bc ehe fluffvember has me busy ಠ~ಠ)

FLUFFVEMBER MASTERLIST

You’ve been here for fifty minutes, you take note mentally, watching as the quaint coffee shop starts to fill up with more people, all the seats getting occupied. It’s a good thing you came here ten minutes early for your date, but it seems you’re getting stood up as it is now 2 in the afternoon now and they haven’t responded to your messages that are delivered.

So with what’s left of the shame in your system, you stand up and go for the line at the counter, scanning the menu glowing above. It’ll take a whole lot of convincing to have you drink hot coffee, and espresso didn’t get along well with your taste buds that you had it, so you settled for an iced caramel macchiato instead. You look back at your table to check if your things are still there and also to see if your date has arrived.

There is not a shadow of a blond Monoma Neito in sight so you sigh, shoulders slacking and a pout settling on your face. What a shame you wore this cute outfit today only for it to go to waste.

You carefully stated your order when it’s your turn, anxiety bubbling up in your chest, wondering if you pronounced macchiato right. Is it ma-key-yato? Ma-shee-yato? Ma-chi-yato? The girl at the counter didn’t look at you weird so you suppose you said it right. You’re asked to move to the side to wait for your order so you lean patiently beside the counter. You’re quite surprised you still have patience left in you after being here for almost an hour without anything from that embarrassment of a date your friend has set you up with.

Your frown worsens as you take in the interior of the of the café. The warm earth tones make it feel really homey, the strong smell of coffee beans lingering in the air. The ambience is really light and easy with their soft, lofi-like tracks on the speakers. It’s such a cute place, a pretty concept for a first date, but here you are alone with a coffee you weren’t too sure how to pronounce.

When your names gets called, you accept it with a smile, the cold bite of the beverage a welcome feeling to your fingers. You walk idly back to your seat, a tight-lipped smile on your face as you check your phone and it’s still the time that greets you. No message from a Monoma in sight.

You slack against your seat and proceed to fiddle with the plastic straw in your hands. You send him another text asking him where he is － one last attempt to actually try for this god damned date because the other person clearly didn’t want to. When your message doesn’t go through, you’re seconds away from screaming inside the coffee shop.

That is until a body steps into your line of vision and you follow the pattern of the button on their polo until you see a blonde boy standing in front of you.

But he is not Monoma, you note. His hair is a lot brighter than the ones of the boy from the photos your friend had showed you. He even has a black thunder-shaped streak on the left side, which is cute, you guess.

“Hi,” he starts, the coffee in his hold shaking a little. “There aren’t many seats and all are taken and you seem to be alone so I was thinking if I can sit here? If only it’s okay though! Or－ wait, sorry, is this seat taken?”

You gingerly taps the point end of your straw on the table before smiling up at him (or at least you hope it’s a smile and not a grimace.)

“Yeah, uh, sure. It’s all yours.”

“Great, thanks!”

You watch closely as he pulls the chair back and sits down, placing his cup of coffee on the side. It’s better to be cautious of people you interact with rather than ending up on an unfortunate situation later. But this boy seems harmless as he awkwardly pats his thighs loudly with an equally awkward smile to go along.

“I’m－ I’m Kaminari,” he stutters nervously, “Kaminari Denki.”

You purse your lips and nod once. “I’m Y/N,” you reply, not bothering to tell him your full name.

“Nice to meet you!”

You watch him as he unwraps his straw and stabs the lid open, happily taking a sip of his beverage.

“What’s that?” You ask curiously.

He raise his eyebrows in acknowledgment before releasing the straw from his lips and saying, “espresso.”

You immediately scrunch your nose.

“What?” Kaminari laughs. “You don’t like it?” You shake your head no. “Too bad. What’s it you got then?”

“Caramel macchiato.” Then you add, “iced.” You don’t know why you decided to hastily give out that information, but he can do whatever he might with the information.

“You’re like Shouto,” he says suddenly, his chin on his palms. “He’s a classmate from UA; likes his soba cold. His father is Endeavor.”

You hum, but the mention of the Number One hero is not what caught your attention.

“UA, you say?” He nods. “Do you happen to know a Monoma Ne－?”

He almost chokes on his espresso at the mention of your coward of a date. “Monoma Neito, blonde. Yes. He’s an asshole.”

The corners of your lips fly up at his words.

“Yeah, well, I just got stood up by an asshole then. He sure lives up to his nickname, huh?”

Kaminari laughs. “Where do you go and why do you know him? I don’t think I’ve seen you around UA before.”

You lean back on your seat. “Oh, I－ I don’t have a quirk so－ Yeah. My friend just set him and I up.”

Your acquaintance pouts at that.

“Dang,” he says as though he’s disappointed to which you raise your eyebrows at.

“What are you doing here though?” You ask, picking up your straw and removing the wrap.

He shrugs. “Saw someone alone so I thought I’ll keep them company. Didn’t know they got stood up though, so I guess I can proxy as the date,” he grins at you.

You scoff at his bold attempt to imply that this is (lowkey) a date. You throw him the crumpled paper from the straw and chuckle. “Nice try but you’re only here to sit and not replace my date.”

Kaminari shrugs again. “At least I tried.”

You roll your eyes but you didn’t try to hide the smile you’re sporting. He isn’t that bad, you think. He makes it easy to like him. Not intimidating at all. Frankly, out of the two of you, he looks like the easier one to intimidate.

“Anyway,” it’s your turn to put your chin in your palm as you lean on the table. Your attention is stolen for a second when the bell above the glass doors of the café rings. You turn to him again. “Tell me more about Monoma.”

“Like I said, he’s an asshole.”

You snicker. “I know. He proved that true the moment he decided not to show up.”

Kaminari shakes his head and drums his fingers on the wood. He’s got pretty fingers, you notice. “He’s annoying as fuck. I have this friend, Bakugou, and it’s like he makes it his mission to annoy him. Annoying Bakugou is literally the worst thing ever because he gets riled up easily,” he sighs. “And he won’t hesitate to attack you.”

“Tell me he laid one on Monoma at some point,” you pleaded.

He nods enthusiastically, laughter bubbling out of his throat as he picks up his drink again. “He did. Monoma left with chafed clothes. It’s a miracle he wasn’t injured heavily.”

“What do they say?” You muse. “The bad grass never dies.”

Kaminari laughs at that, nodding his head at your statement. “It was a good thing though,” he smirks at you. “If it didn’t end up like that then I wouldn’t have met you because then you wouldn’t be set up with a date with Monoma.”

You gasp at his words, dramatically laying your palm on your chest. “That’s not nice of you to say it was a good thing I got stood up.”

“On my part, yes, ’cause I got to meet you.”

You don’t know how he does it, really. The way he’s just smoothly, you don’t know, trying to get to you is very impressive, you’re not gonna deny that. You’re slowly accepting the fact that you really just got stood up. And the cost?

“You’re a smooth talker, aren’t you?”

“I try my best.”

“Sure. So when’s the next date?”

It was a week later, in the very seat you first met each other.

#did i just write dialogues #it’s so easy when it comes to denki ToT #kaminari denki #kaminari fluff #kaminari angst #kaminari denki x reader #kaminari headcanon #bnha #bnha fluff #bnha angst #bnha headcanon #bnha fluffvember #fluffvember #I MISS MY BOY KAMS (；д；)#THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 200 #I AM CRYING #i am (ಥ﹏ಥ)♡

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shhhlikeme · 4 years

Text

“Losty Aone” / “Losty Mountain Man🏔” Series:

Outtake Collection #12:

———————————

A/N: I miss you guys so much! Thank you for over 150 notes on my last outtake 🤯! If you haven’t read my life update already, please do and know that it’s hard for me to prioritize school and work before this blog. This outtake collection was originally supposed to be a multiple posting like the previous ones, but I reckon I was taking too long and thought to just post at least the part that was complete. Love y’all

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Songs for this outtake:

———————————

8 Days After The Breakup ⛓🥀

💤 😴 💤

“Leave her be. She’s having fun.”

Aone watched as the class-snitch Tsume Lian handed in his paper and hurriedly left the classroom.

I didn’t mean to scare him, thought Mountain Man. He shrugged it off, looking down to concentrate on his own assignment, going through the questions easily. I only have 3 left now, and the answers are fairly simple because-

“Hi! Thanks so much for defending me a little while ago!”

An angelic voice startled Aone out of his academic train of thought. As soon as the sound vibrations reached his ear drums all the nerves in Aone’s body stood at attention.

Is that......?! he questioned, but received his answer when he felt the magnetic pull to the voice as he always did—his eyes having a mind of their own and following the sound. Aone felt his heart halt when he lifted his head from his paper to be graced with something much, much, more beautiful. His crush, you, were standing next to him. Aone’s entire body and brain went out of commission when he looked up to see you, standing so close he could feel your body heat, your beautiful manicured hands pressed on his desk. Your grateful eyes were staring into his for quite possibly the first time in his entire life.

The eyes he dreams about.

Your Apple scent invaded his nostrils and Aone breathed in as deeply as he could subconsciously. He never wanted to smell anything else.

The scent that he dreams about.

You reached over to touch Aone’s arm in his uniform, shooting him an endearing smile. Aone’s eyes widened. Y/N IS TOUCHING ME, he thought. His heart tightened and he really thought he was at risk for a heart attack. The only thing that kept him from having that heart attack, in fact, was seeing you smile a second later. He wouldn’t be graced with that smile if he fainted now🥵. To Aone, when you smiled, oh god, when you smiled—You weren’t just beautiful like he always found you: you were unreal. It was your smile on top of the cheerleading pyramid that made him initially lock onto you, and it was your smile with your friends at school that made Mountain Man stop in his tracks every time just to take it in. It is captivating.

Aone couldn’t help but stare at your lips when the vibrations of your melodic cheerful voice reached his ears again.

“I’m Y/N! It’s nice to meet you!”

Nice to.....? What? Losty Aone connected the dots a bit, realizing that you were introducing yourself to him. He wanted to laugh. It is almost a comical quiet-boy-meets-his-crush scene, right? The fact that the female he spends most of his day thinking about, the female outside of the Takanobu’s that he probably knows most about, the female that he has spent the better part of the last two years pining after, was introducing herself—that she deemed it necessary to make him aware of who she is—is comical.

Dark Comedy.

Honestly, Aone couldn’t even stop for too long to feel bad for how pathetic this seemed for him: as he was too busy basking in your light. Whether you were introducing yourself or reciting the Arabic alphabet to him— he’d want to hear you over and over, no matter what, unable to think of anything else he’d want more.

Aone wanted to say something back to you, he obviously did. But he was just too in shock that the girl he wishes he could marry, the girl that is so completely out of his league that she doesn’t even notice his existence, is speaking him unexpectedly. It was like a dream. Aone’s throat was drier than the Sahara desert.

It was TOO MUCH. Your simple greeting made him TOO HAPPY—he was unable to respond.

Aone felt severe loss of sweet tingling skin nerves when you removed your hand from his burning arm. If he was thinking clearly he might have pouted. He mentally kicked himself for being too star-struck by you to dedicate one part of his mind to memorize what it felt like to have you touch him.

“Sorry.”

You said shyly, gifting Aone’s eardrums again. You looked down sheepishly, then met his serious expression again, appearing God-sent with the thankful expression you gave him. If Aone could speak, he would bloody PROPOSE.

“Um....”

Still frozen, Aone couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as you spoke.

“You probably don’t know this but you getting that pervert to leave me alone is quite possibly the sweetest thing anyone has done for me. And you did it for a stranger, no less. And ummm.........”

You tucked your hair cutely behind your ear, obviously wanting to say something else. Aone was eager to hear it. He loved hearing your voice! After all, witnessing your usually bubbly cheerleader-self so demure and cute-looking made his heart skip a beat. Or dozens of beats. All he could think of when he watched you was:

She’s Unreal.

She’s Perfect.

She’s a Dream.

Long shot, but she’s my desired Future wife.

He wanted to beg you to keep speaking. Your voice was his favourite sound... it has been ever since he first heard it.

“Ummmm........ also I wanted to say.....”

Aone put an effort to mentally block out all the white noise of the chatty classroom so that he could hear your beautiful voice more clearly. He wanted to remember this. He wanted to memorize every second of this, since you approaching his desk has unpredictably turned today in to one of the best days of his life. Please keep talking to me Y/N. Please.

Aone’s heart tightened again as your expressive eyes pierced into his serious ones. You took a deep breath before saying what you wanted to say next.

......Yes? Aone wish he could say. You can tell me anything, Y/N.

“....and.....”

you pushed on, leaning in closer so that Aone had an even clearer close up of your gorgeous face and your scent was even stronger. Yep, absolutely the best day of my life.

And......? Aone wanted to hurry you, but then he saw you opening your mouth:

“And do you mind not doing that again? It’s obvious you have a really intense crush on me obviously—but I don’t feel the same way. I don’t even know who you are. It’ll never work out in the long run because I’m in this league and you’re...in that one.”

Aone hearing what you said was like a knife—no, A SWORD stabbing through his heart. He literally felt wounded. He looked at his beautiful crush—still putting you first even in a state of pain like this— feeling terrible for making you uncomfortable due to his romantic hopes.

“I’m s-sorry, Y/N...” Aone was about to stutter out,

💤😴💤

But his eyes opened before then, kicking him out of his dream.

Takanobu’s heart ached as he stared up at his bedroom ceiling in the dark. Aone checked with his hand to make sure that he really hadn’t been stabbed through the chest, because that’s what he felt right now. Breathing heavily through his nose when he felt his actual hard chest there like normal, he wondered how the pain there could be so insufferable then?

Takanobu hasn’t been able to avoid these terrible dreams since several nights ago, when you had broken up with him on the Ferris wheel. He knows you are not as cruel as you are in his dreams but his depressive state of mind obviously only knows how to make him feel worse about everything. He doesn’t really remember much after you had called him your friend in the Ferris Wheel lot; shattering what was left of his heart by that word combined with walking away. Though, he does remember hearing his mom at dinner 2 nights ago talking to him about how it was Futakuchi who had to come get him, but he wasn’t sure.

To be honest, ever since the night on the Ferris Wheel, Aone has become a shell of a man that lost a lot of care for things he used to care about.

He can’t recall what his mom said at dinner or what Kenji said in the car or what really happened the days after you decided to leave him: The only feeling he could register is the overbearing heavy feeling in his heart. The only thing that captured his attention is the aching in his chest. The sound of his heart’s continuous shattering whenever he thought of you was louder than any words he heard and the all encompassing gnawing of heartache, was more tangible than anything else he could possibly feel.

If Aone had to describe in words how he has felt since that moment 🎡 (but he wouldn’t because he has subconsciously retreated back to his mute lifestyle), he would say his heart feels like it is encompassed by the heaviest chains known to man with an anchor on the end, hanging low and weighing down his whole heart.

If that wasn’t bad enough, whenever you crossed his mind, the chains would tighten and squeeze his heart. Therefore, since you basically never left his mind, that means his heart is continuously being squeezed by hefty anchorage. It is an awful feeling to say the least.

Sitting up on the side of his bed, Aone checked his phone for the time and date.

8 days since the anniversary...? He stated to himself.

Had I attended school in between? He doesn’t even remember.

All that was clearly registered is the feeling of loss.

Aone sighed. Must have, because knowing Futakuchi, he likely wouldn’t let him skip. Aone can now recall going to school and not seeing you there....no wonder it’s deemed insignificant in his brain.

When Mountain Man had gotten too worried about your absence on the second day and was about to check on you, his friends had asked your friends, discovering that you were currently sick and on bed rest.

Mountain Man felt terrible. You probably got ill from walking in the snow after the Ferris Wheel ride. If he hadn’t brought you there you wouldn’t be sick. You’d only had on a thin jacket that night...

Should I text Y/N? Ask her if there’s anything I can bring her so she can feel better? What would Futakuchi say?

‘ABSOLUTELY THE FUCK NOT.‘ Is what he would say, Aone thought, practically able to hear his friend’s voice.

In bed, Mountain Man sighed. Even if he did text you, you didn’t want to hear from him anymore. That’s the purpose of a breakup, no matter how much it gutted him. You were entitled to your space.

Through impenetrable mental torment, Aone rubbed his eyes and peeped at the time. While Aone would describe himself as a militant person, who always wakes up on time for school, leaves his house on time for everything; practically the most dependable human, and was very orderly his entire life—things have changed drastically as of 8 days ago. Not that he cared since time wasn’t really something he could focus on, but Aone now awoke several times a night, walked in late to class and cancelled his attendance to any and all social events he was going to go to.

He and Futakuchi were supposed to help Karasuno with blocking yesterday, but Aone just went straight home. He hasn’t even seen his friends for quite some time....or maybe he has, but the memory isn’t registering.

Broken-hearted Mountain Man would just avoid everyone in class (staring out of the window, looking incredibly unapproachable), and outside of class: opting to eat lunch alone (and by eating, it means just toying with whatever he was going to eat). Every lunch hour, this depresssed polar bear would find some corner outdoors to sit by himself: Sometimes it was at the bus stop down the street from the school where he’d sit and watch the passerbyers, his gaze staying a bit longer on the couples that passed by, wishing you still wanted that with him. Yesterday, he found a spot under a big tree and counted the grass patches. Even though you weren’t at school, as soon as the Date Teko cheerleaders came outside to practice a bit for the snowboarding team, Aone picked up his stuff and finished his lunch in an empty classroom...

6:38am.

So Aone had over 20 minutes till he needed to get up and get ready for school.

Usually, this white-haired man would use that time to do something productive: either review his homework, try to make breakfast for his mom or dad, read a book to his turtle, research new volleyball drills to help his team.............

But this morning was different. Of course it was. In the extra time he had this morning, all Aone could do in these minutes is sit up, propping his elbows on his knees and cradle his head in his hands, willing his heart to stop hurting so much. He had zero tears to cry, he isn’t a crier but they were probably all out after the first night that he tear stained his pillow...... So instead of crying, now Aone just spent his extra time in this position, thinking about you—the greatest girl he would ever know—and how he failed to make you happy enough that you’d choose to stay with him.

Aone:

He has no idea why he got his hopes up. Why did he think someone like you would want him? Of course you’d come to your senses eventually.

Faded beautiful black and white images of your moments together flashed through his depressed mind like a movie reel: triggering his heart to weigh his body down even more:

He saw you playing with Perdu on the floor of his room, trying to teach the reptile how to fetch.

He saw you cling onto his arm and hide your face in his shoulder when a jump scare hit the screen at the movie theatre.

In slow motion, He saw you waving and smiling at the supporters in the bleachers as you were cheerleading with your teammates, looking breathtaking

He saw you giving his best friends the middle finger and sticking your tongue out at them because they were teasing him

He saw you throw your head back and laugh as you sat next to him at the lunch table, leaning on him for support because you were laughing so hard

He saw you flip your hair back as you actually listening to his tutoring in his room... then he saw your face brighten, clapping when he told you your answer was correct

He saw you—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The sound of Aone’s weekday alarm jolted him out of his heart wrenching slideshow... He rubbed his temples for a moment in his dark room before turning the alarm off. He stood up slowly and took a deep breath before forcing himself to go through the motions again— slipping on his house slippers and making his way to his bathroom. He flicked on the bathroom light and Aone dared to look at himself briefly in the mirror: though what greeted his eyes made him instinctively turn the fucking light off.

Pathetic, anguished Mountain thought.

I look even scarier now. He tore his eyes away from the mirror display of his tired eyes and overall broken demeanour.

No wonder Y/N doesn’t want me.

Hearing your name in his mind for the first time since he had promised himself he wouldn’t mention it, sent a wave of immense devastation through this man’s entire body. It was so strong it caused this middle blocker to hang his head and use both strong hands to grip his bathroom counter so he wouldn’t collapse under the metaphorical pain in his chest.

He never knew it was possible to feel such emotional pain so physically.

He deliberated staying home, but that would worry his parents and friends even more, which is the last thing he wanted.

It’s almost the end of the week. Just keep getting ready for school, he told himself. It is only 4 hours until lunch, when you can be alone again.

Aone brushed his teeth while sitting on the edge of his bathtub, finding it easier to avoid his reflection in the mirror this way. He spat and rinsed, then reached for his floss, but realized it was empty.

Sighing, baby boy dragged his feet from his ensuite to one of his house’s main bathrooms where his mom left the extra toiletries.

Aone began flossing in his quiet bathroom. He heard the faint sound of the front door closing and locking since his mother usually left for work at this time. Takanobu finished flossing and washed his hands. He took a few floss containers and exited the main bathroom, shutting off the light and briskly turning the corner—before running right into another man.

“Shit!” The other voice yelled as their body fell backwards from the impact.

Completely startled because he thought he was home alone, Aone’s eyes widened but his fast reflexes caught the man’s arm before he fell to the ground. Aone’s eyes went back to normal realizing who he caught.

“Dude! Are you a fucking ghost?! You make zero sound when you walk around the house! How is that even possible for a man your size!?!”

Takanobu looked down at his best friend dressed in pyjamas like: ⁉️

Not uttering a word, he gave Kenji a monotone look as to say: What are you doing here?

Kenji—understanding his best friend without him needing to use words like he always did, answered him.

“What am I doing here?” Kenji chuckled. “Well, it’s been days and you won’t answer my texts or calls, big guy! I have no idea where you go during lunch, it’s cold as shit outside and we spend the entire time looking for you.... and then you go straight home when the last bell rings! You seem dead at school: like a zombie. So fuck, you forced my lazy ass to get creative. 💥 Boom. Now I’m here. Your mom said I can move in stay for the time being, basically. I’m sleeping in the first guest room and—“

Aone turned on his heels to peek into the first guest room beside the bathroom. Sure enough, he saw one big suitcase Futakuchi had used when he had come on a vacation with his dads side 4 years ago.

Aone turned back to his friend, grunting as if to say: 🤨 this is a lot....

“—No, it is not a lot. I’m worried about my best friend, man. Either way, I’m not asking you permission.” Kenji crosses his arms in response to his friend’s silent communication. “I told you it’s me and you.”

Aone frowned at his friend. He was pretty astonished by everything Kenji just said. First, Kenji is right about his own self analysis: Kenji is lazy. Which made this all the more alarming, because was Aone really that bad that his best friend felt obligated to move in temporarily?! Futakuchi was always welcome here and stayed over often, but nothing this drastic.

Second, Aone knew he was possibly moving around like a shell of a man—that’s why he avoided people unless it was in class regarding group work—but to be described as a zombie by his brutally honest friend? Ouch. What would Y/N think? Aone doubted you would regret dumping a guy like that if you were in good health and saw him at school.

Hearing your name again in his mind; Aone’s heart panged.

Takanobu’s gaze fell and shoulders sunk and Futakuchi noticed the drop. He knew his middle blocker was going through it like crazy.... and it made him sick. Kenji knew right then and there that he was right to come here.

“I know you don’t want to talk about her, Aone-san. We don’t have to until you’re ready. But I’m here, alright? Just two doors down when you want advice or you just want to watch a movie or play some volleyball. Okay?”

Still looking at his turtle slippers, Aone nodded. In his state, he couldn’t help but feel a bit better because his best friend cared so much about him.

Just then, Aone felt a sharp slap on his back that couldn’t have come from Kenji and an excited voice next to his ear.

“MORNING!!!!!! WHERE CAN I FIND THE FLOSS— OH! BOTH OF YOU ARE AWAKE!”

Koganegawa‘s eyes were barely open as he joined the two boys in the hallway, yawning in the midst of his loud greeting.

Startled that Kogane was in his house too, Aone gave him the same alarmed expression he’d initially given Futakuchi.

Kanji looked confused, so he nudged Futakuchi. “I’m not as good as you yet, dad. What does that look on Aone-senpai mean?” He asked, stretching his arms in fatigue.

In response, Kenji reached up to pinch his ear, yanking it down.

“OI! ITAI!” The setter cried.

Kenji spoke calmly.

“Takanobu-san is wondering what you’re doing here. And I’m wondering why you’re so loud in the mornings!!” Futakuchi let go and Kogane rubbed his now red ear, fully awake now. He glared at Kenji for a moment😡before his eyes met the middle blocker’s and softened.

“Hey, Mom. That abusive parent 👈🏻 mentioned something about staying here for a few days or weeks, and I begged him to let me come. I worry about you, too, you’re like a big brother to me, and I’m here for you just as much as he is.” Kanji smiled brightly at his older friend.

For the first time since you’d broken up with him, Aone felt his heart tighten for a different reason other than heartache. For one brief moment, Aone felt a few links in the heavy chain wrapped around his heart fall off. Albeit minimally, his friend’s endearing actions made him feel lighter.

————————————

Outtake #13: CLICK HERE

Sneak Preview of the next dramatic Outtakes:

A pissed off Kenji Futakuchi confronts Y/N upon your return to school 👁👄👁

Aone and Y/N must work together for a school project....... 💔 awkward, or an opportunity? The answer may surprise you.

Taglist: @crushzone @galagcica @chaichai-the-weeb @nairobiisqueen @bisasterrr @juminly @simply-not-the-same

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backtothestart02 · 3 years

Text

Teacher’s Pet - 2/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Enjoy!

...

Chapter 2 -

Cisco woke up the next morning with Barry’s limbs dangling over the edge of the top bunk right in his line of vision. He blinked a few times, remembered where he was – at college, not home – and glanced over at his clock across the room.

He had about five minutes before it went off. Tumbling out of bed as silently as he could, he decided to put some clothes together and his toiletries, so he could head down to the community bathroom to shower. Chances were the alarm would go off before he actually left their dorm room, but why not let Barry get in the extra few minutes? They shared their first class together, and he knew Barry was a heavy, late sleeper. The last thing he needed was him grumpy before he’d even gotten water on his face.

Slipping into his slippers, Cisco tossed everything he needed into a small hamper, swiped his keys to the room off his desk and sneakily exited the dorm room without so much as a peep.

The second he stepped into the hall, the alarm went off. He chuckled to himself, though he felt a little bad, when he heard Barry groan aloud.

Still, he trudged on ahead and did his morning routine at the community bathroom at the end of the hall.

When he came back 20 minutes later, he was shocked to hear the alarm still going off outside his and Barry’s room. Quickly, he got the door open, stepped inside and shook his head at the sight in front of him.

Barry was still sleeping, exactly the way he’d left him.

“Barry!”

No response.

He went over to the alarm clock and shut it off. Then he started snapping in Barry’s face.

“Barry!”

Barry moaned a little, then snuggled deeper into his pillow.

Cisco shook his head.

“Unbelievable.”

He picked up Barry’s arm hanging over the ledge and got a grip on his wrist so he could use his hand to slap him in the face. Given his lack of height, it took a few times for the slap to really hit its mark and impact his roommate in any way.

That, in addition, to continually calling Barry’s name, eventually made some progress.

“What…are you doing?” Barry groaned, pulling his hand free.

Reluctantly, Cisco released him.

“It’s 8:30.”

Barry tucked his hand underneath his pillow.

“Mm…that’s nice.”

“In the morning!”

“Mmm.”

Cisco shook his head in disbelief. He grabbed his own pillow and whacked his roommate in the head with it.

“What the-”

“Get up!” Cisco ordered. “Winter break is over! You have class in 20 minutes!”

“Alright, alright…sheesh.”

Barry forced his eyes open, blinked a few times, then squinted so he could make out the time on the alarm clock on practically ground level to him.

“I’ll go get some coffee.” Cisco picked up his backpack full of school supplies and adjusted it over his shoulders. “Should I bring it back for you or should I just head to class and have it for you there?”

Barry sighed and ran his hand over his face.

“Just…go to class, Cisco.” He fell sideways onto his back. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Suit yourself.”

About a minute passed and Cisco had left the room again, leaving Barry still in his pajamas, unshowered, with his eyes fighting to stay open.

“Back to school, Barry,” he muttered to himself. “And with an immoral teacher I probably won’t be able to stand. Ugh.”

He grunted his way down to the edge of the bed, bumping his head on the ceiling a grand total of three times. He slid a little on the little ladder and nearly collided his crotch with the crook of the bed frame, but he managed to avoid that potential tragedy.

He pushed his hair out of his face, looked around for some clothes to wear and his toiletries, and within five minutes was down the hall and in the shower, trying not to fall back asleep while he was in there.

By the time he was ready to go, he had exactly two minutes to get to class.

Facts were facts. He was going to be late.

Bolting from the building with his winter coat hanging open, he ran awkwardly across the courtyard to get to the building on the other side. Slipping and sliding in the shoes he opted for, it was a miracle he didn’t fall flat on his face.

His phone started to buzz in his pocket, and he just knew it was Cisco with a slew of WHERE ARE YOU??? texts.

“I’m coming, I’m coming…”

He flung open the door, and immediately started to slide as there was no rug just inside to wipe his feet on and a long stream of water on the floor from students who had trudged through in their boots before him, no doubt.

Before he could catch himself, another student – or possibly a teacher – turned down the hall at the exact time as him and ran smack into him.

He made a bunch of noises as he tried to steady himself and her, but inevitably they tumbled to the floor together, and it was only his quick thinking that landed him in a wet spot and her on top of him.

Her hands, propped on either side of him on the floor, she finally gave him a good look.

“Are you one of my students?” she asked.

A teacher. Great.

“Ms. West?” he guessed.

“Professor West,” she corrected, and he fought not to roll his eyes.

Right.

“Professor West. Yeah, um, I-I am.”

She blinked, looking down at him, aware suddenly of his hands on her waist, and her bent knees nestled dangerously close to his crotch.

“We should probably-”

“Right.”

He moved slightly in one direction and managed to push her up and to her feet without doing damage to his genitals. He then twisted onto his front and got up. His own clothes were not as untarnished as hers, but at least he was no longer sliding across the floor.

“Barry Allen.”

He held out his hand. When she only glanced down at it, he realized there was dirt from the floor on his fingertips and quickly wiped it on one of the dry spots on his pants. He tried again, but she waved him off.

“No need for such formalities, Barry. I suppose I should thank you for saving me.”

“No trouble at all,” he insisted, forcing a smile.

“I mean, you were running late to my class, but so was I.”

“Yep.”

“Shall we?” she suggested, pointing to the dryer portion of the hall to walk down.

“Yes, please.” He chuckled a little nervously.

“Why don’t you walk a little ahead of me? I won’t have to mark you tardy then – if you’re in class before I am.”

“Right. Thanks…professor.”

Trying to shake off the whole incident, Barry walked ahead of her, nearly slipping into a puddle in the process.

“Oh, Barry, carefu-!”

He avoided it just in time. Not wanting to face his new teacher after that, he kept his head ducked down and strode ahead in only the dry spots until he reached the classroom and slipped inside.

He saw Cisco right away and slid into the seat right beside him.

“Finally,” Cisco muttered, handing him his coffee. “You’re lucky you didn’t get here after our new tea-”

“Good morning, class!” Professor West walked into the room. She smiled brilliantly as if nothing off the mark had happened only minutes before, but Cisco didn’t believe in coincidences.

“Did you and her-”

“Welcome to the first day of the spring semester. I am Professor West.”

She sent a slight glare in Cisco’s direction, and he shut his mouth.

“In my class,” she addressed everyone at the pedestal, “you will not speak unless spoken to.”

Any further mumblings were silenced.

“Excellent.” She opened her briefcase and pulled out a sheet of paper. “Roll call.”

…

Just one room down from the class where Professor West taught, Scott Evans – Professor Evans – had his own class he taught. He taught a few actually, but at this time in the morning he taught history. It started and ended at the same time as Iris’ class. It gave him an excuse to talk to her in the interim.

This morning she’d been late. He hadn’t seen her walking up to her class when he happened to stroll down the hall to his. He’d been hoping they’d collide, in a matter of speaking, but they hadn’t. She hadn’t showed, and he wasn’t one to start his class late just on the mere chance he might run into her and share some early morning flirtation before they got started for the day.

He supposed he was getting a little greedy, given that all his waiting for the past five years had finally paid off last night with Iris quite literally pulling him into her apartment and taking him to bed with her.

The hot sex had been beyond his wildest dreams. He hadn’t seen it coming. How could he have? Aside from some mild flirtation from the moment he met her, she hadn’t appeared particularly interested in taking a step towards a relationship or even a one-night stand. Last night she had, but was it possible she wished it hadn’t happened today? Why else would she be unexpectedly late to her first class of the spring semester?

It was so unlike her…

So, he retreated into his class, hoping he’d get a stab at a polite conversation at the very least once both of their classes were over. He did his best to focus on greeting his new students and laying out the schedule for the semester. He needed to remind himself that he didn’t live and breathe just for the opportunity to catch Iris West’s eye. He was a teacher first and foremost, and he lived for his students.

Still, when class ended on a mostly successful note, and his students had exited the classroom, he gathered his briefcase, peeked out of his room and there she was. Professor Iris West was standing talking to one of her students as the rest filed out. He watched them interact, could empathize with the way the boy looked awkward and flustered in her presence, but soon enough he had left with who appeared to be a fellow classmate, if not a friend, and the hall was mostly empty again.

“Iris!” he called out to her.

She turned around slowly.

“Professor Evans.” She smiled politely.

He tried to hide his disappointment at her formality, especially after last night, but she must’ve seen it.

“Scott,” she amended, as they closed the distance and then stood a comfortable few feet away. “How are you?”

He cleared his throat.

“I’m fine.”

“Good.” She gauged his reaction. “How was your first class?”

“Same as always…” he trailed off.

This was not what he wanted to talk about.

“Great! Mine was good as well.” She heaved her purse further over her shoulder. “See you around?”

She started to walk past him, but he reached for her arm before she could.

“Actually – I was hoping we could talk.” He lowered his voice. “About last night?”

She tensed in his grasp, so he released her.

“This is hardly the time or the place, Professor Evans,” she said sharply.

His shoulders slumped.

“Then when and what is?” he asked. He licked his lips. “I’m not…the reason you were late this morning, was I?”

“Of course not!” she snapped, then forced herself to relax when she saw the pained look on his face. “Sorry. But no, you weren’t. I just…slept in a little late. I wasn’t used to getting up quite so early. The break had me fooled.” She smiled serenely.

“Right. So?”

He waited on baited breath.

“I don’t have any appointments today,” she said.

“Well, that’s good news,” he said, cheerfully.

She winced. “Yes, well, um… Come by my office. If the door’s open, you’re welcome to come in, and we’ll talk.”

His brows furrowed.

“Does right now work for you?”

She blinked. “I’m not in my office right now, am I?”

His lips parted. He was rendered speechless.

“I’ll see you later, Scott,” she said, then moved past him. This time he later.

Her hips swayed as he watched her leave, but he couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or not. He couldn’t tell anything about Iris West. She was a mystery, an enigma. He wondered if he’d ever figure her out.

#westallen #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #teacher's pet #chapter 2

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stormfall1327 · 3 years

Text

Part 2 of For What It’s Worth! Still planning some revisions, but it’s at least finished! Also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964154/chapters/71075985

For What It’s Worth - Part 2

V flops over onto her back with a huff and slings her arm over her eyes. Another restless night. Reaching over to grab her phone, she lifts her arm and squints at the screen. 0010. Son of a bitch. This is the third time in the last hour she’s woken up, her mind too full of… everything. Resigning herself to the fact that she won’t be falling back to sleep any time soon, she rolls out of bed with a groan and pads barefoot over to her closet.

“Might as well see what’s keepin’ the rest of Night City awake,” she mutters, pulling on her favorite pair of jeans and an old tank. She slips on her leather boots and grabs a plaid flannel shirt from a hanger, pulling it on as she heads for the door with a sigh.

V steps out of her apartment complex and instinctively heads west toward Bradbury Street. In the distance, she hears the gentle roll of thunder above the noise of the streets. Paying no attention to where she’s headed, her mind wanders as she walks, thoughts ranging from her growing list of opened gigs to whether she remembered to eat today.

A few minutes later, she’s torn from her reverie as the first drops of rain start to fall. Glaring up at the sky and cursing under her breath, she ducks into the nearest alley and suddenly realizes where she is. She’d subconsciously made her way to Vik’s clinic. She’s immediately comforted by the green neon glow above his door. Guess he couldn’t sleep, either, she thinks with a smile.

She heads down the stairs, her mind already feeling lighter knowing she’ll be in commiserate company. Just before she reaches the gate, she spots a bloody footprint leading away from the clinic. She calls out to him as she rounds the corner, voice echoing feebly off the concrete and when she reaches the metal gate, her stomach drops into her shoes.

“Oh, FUCK. Vik!” V runs to him, heart crashing against her ribs as she takes in the scene in front of her. Fuck, is this all his?

Vik is slumped over on the operating chair, right hand pressed to his side as blood seeps between his fingers and pools on the floor. He’s coated in a thin sheen of sweat and his face is too pale, but at least he’s still breathing. She crouches down in front of him and cups her hand under his chin to lift his head.

“Hey, V,” he mumbles with a weak smile, eyes fluttering open to look at her.

“Jesus Christ, Vik! What the fuck happened to you?,” she asks, desperately trying to keep her voice from cracking. She reaches for his hand to pull it from his side, but he resists, letting out a pained grunt.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, move your hand so I can see!”

He shakes his head and chuckles, face scrunching into a grimace at the movement. “Heh. Just a scratch. Asshole sure caught me off guard, though.” He huffs out a breath. “‘Sides, I’m the doctor here.” He winks at her before dropping his head again, a fresh gush of blood pouring out over his hand.

“Yeah, a fucking doctor who was gonna, what, let ‘imself bleed out all over the goddamn floor? Why the hell didn’t you call me?! Or Misty?! Or fucking Trauma, for that matter?!” She leaps to her feet, letting out a frustrated yell, hurt and anger and fear bubbling to the surface.

“Told ya. S’not that bad. I’m — fine.”

Her optics flash in warning as she scans him. “S’not that bad,” she mocks as she rolls her eyes. “Says the man who’s blood pressure is in the fucking toilet. You may be the doctor here, but I’m not about to stand here and watch you take one for the fucking team. I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”

She pushes him back against the chair a little more roughly than she truly intends to and grabs his hand again, pleading at him with her eyes. Let me help you.

“So, you wanna be my nurse, huh?” He waggles his eyebrows at her, but the gesture falls short as he finally pulls his hand away with a wince.

She laughs as she reaches over him to grab some scissors, gauze and betadine from the side table. “Dunno about a nurse, but I spent the last two years hangin’ with Atlanta’s best medics. Picked up a few tricks from ‘em that I’m sure’ll come in real handy about now. Also, sorry about your shirt.”

Before he can say anything, she grabs his lapels and yanks her hands apart, sending buttons flying before grabbing the scissors and cutting through his undershirt.

“Hey - !”

“Thought you were the doctor here? Just part of the job, right?” She gives him a wink and sets to work cleaning around the wound to get a better idea of what she’s working with. The puncture is deep, but clean and still bleeding heavily. “Hmm. Well-approximated. Clean edges. Must not have been a serrated blade. Should be easy enough to suture,” she says mostly to herself before glancing up at him. She feels her cheeks heat up when she catches him staring at her.

“Your, uh, pressure’s still shit though. Lost quite a bit of blood. Gonna at least need at least a liter or two of fluid to compensate.” She grabs the gauze and presses it to his side to try and staunch some of the bleeding, flinching when he sucks in a sharp breath.

“Huh. Guess those guys did teach you well.” He covers her hand with his and her stomach flips at the contact. “Suture and IV kits are in the drawer next to the desk, and - you should find some LR in one of the cabinets on the back wall.” She nods and pulls her hand away with a small smile. “Thanks. Hold that for me, ya? Be right back.”

She finds what she needs easily enough and begins arranging her supplies on the side table, peeling open the IV kit.

“Fifty eddies says you can’t hit it first stick.”

She gives him a look, but says nothing as she applies the tourniquet and cleans his arm with alcohol . 10 seconds later, she’s taping down a perfect 16g IV in his forearm and hooking him up to a liter of Lactated Ringers, sliding the clamp down to let it run wide open.

He huffs out a laugh. “Well, color me impressed. Now, let’s see if you can suture half as well as you started that IV,” he says with a wink.

Her face flushes at the praise. “Keep eggin’ me on like that and I’ll stitch up more than your wound, old man,” she says without bite, leveling her best glare at him as she fights back a smile. She nudges his hand aside to remove the saturated gauze and grabs the suture kit and local anesthetic from the table. Scanning vitals again, she’s pleased to see his blood pressure and heart rate improving.

She injects the anesthesia and sets to work suturing his wound, letting herself fall back on muscle memory. “So, you never did tell me what the hell happened,” she says, glancing up at him.

“Heh. Old client of mine stopped by for some late night ripper work and went psycho. Tried to get some baloperidol in him, but I guess he figured stabbin’ me was the way to go before runnin’ off.”

She pauses, taking in a deep breath and shaking her head. “Holy fuck, Vik! You’re lucky all he did was stab you once! He could have… you - you could have fucking died before I even got here!” Her voice finally cracks under the sudden onslaught of emotion and she throws her head back, blinking away the hot tears springing up in her eyes.

“Yeah, but I didn’t. And for what it’s worth, V, I’m damn glad you’re here. I owe ya one.”

She laughs through a sniffle and gets back to suturing. “Please, Vik. After all the times you’ve patched me up, this is the least I can do.” She finishes the last stitch and ties the knot, stepping back to admire her handiwork. Vik pushes himself up on his elbows and looks down, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Not bad. A little crooked, but it’ll do.” She shoves his shoulder playfully and leans down to remove his IV before walking over to wet a cloth in the sink. “Asshole. And besides, it’s a helluva lot better than you woulda done,” she calls over her shoulder. Turning back, she finds him sitting on the edge of the chair, legs dangling over the edge. She walks over and grabs his chin, gently wiping the sweat from his face. “Don’t you do that to me again, Viktor Vektor, you hear me?” Her eyes are stormy as she stares him down. He stands up gingerly and pulls her into a left-sided hug. “Huh. Now you know how I feel.”

#my writing #viktor vector/v #viktor vektor #Viktor Vector

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 4 years

Text

Shadows of the Neon Lights - fic

Characters: Jason Todd, Damian Wayne Summary: He didn’t know what was more surprising - that someone else had come after him, or that it was Jason Todd, of all people, trying to stop him from killing. A/N: For Patreon supporter Leydy! Happy birthday sweet human, and thank you for all your support and kindness! You’re amazing! This is obviously some time after the Teen Titans Annual 2 confrontation/after Ric and Alfred’s death.

He had the man right where he wanted. A wannabe serial killer who hadn’t found his stride yet, but already killed three sex workers. Each in a different way, so no one had found the connection yet.

But Damian had.

He’d followed him for days, and now he had him next to the dumpster behind the strip joint he was casing for his next victim.

The man was sniveling and crying. Begging for his life as Damian pressed the dagger against his throat.

Damian didn’t care. This bastard deserved it.

So he smiled, and pulled the knife back. Then spun it to grasp it in his fist, aimed it to plunge right into the man’s chest.

One less scumbag in the world.

But right as he began to drop his hand, a gunshot rang out, and the blade shattered in his fingers.

The man shrieked, and Damian jumped back with a curse. He glanced over as the Red Hood strolled out of the alleyway, dramatically blowing the smoke from his gun’s barrel.

“What’d he do?” Jason asked carefully, removing his helmet.

“Killed three women. Staking out a fourth.” Damian snapped. “But that doesn’t matter to you, he’s my ki-”

Jason’s gun went off again. The man jerked once, then collapsed to the ground, a hole between his eyebrows.

“Not your kill.” Jason hummed. “Robin doesn’t have kills.”

“In case you haven’t heard.” Damian drawled, kicking at the now-dead man’s leg as he stepped over him. “I’m not Robin anymore.”

“Yeah, B told me.” Jason shrugged, and that seemed to just make Damian more annoyed. “What’s up with that?”

Damian scoffed, crossed his arms and turned to look down the alley behind him. “Like you care.”

“I do, actually. You’re my kid brother, whether either of us like it or not.” Jason countered. “And even I’m not so stubborn as to ignore the fact that we’ve all been through a lot lately. It takes a toll.” Jason glanced down at him. “And no one’s checked in with you about it all, have they?”

Damian refused to look at him. “You said Father told you.”

“He did. But I don’t take his word for anything.” Jason smirked. “…I do believe him on the you not being Robin anymore, and also going on a killing spree thing, though.”

“It’s not a spree.” Damian hissed. “It’s what needs to be done.”

“But not by you.” Jason argued. “I thought Dickie got you off that path.”

Damian turned away from him completely now.

“…Ah. So Bruce was telling the truth.” Jason murmured. “This really is about what happened to Dick and Alfred.”

Damian didn’t answer. Stared down at the dead body.

“What happened wasn’t your fault.” Jason promised. Then he lowered his voice. “Especially not to Alfred.”

“I was there. I should have done something.” Damian whispered.

“You were tied up and unconscious.” Jason tried, stepping forward. “What were you supposed to do?”

“Fight back. Literally, anything.” Damian returned. “But what I didn’t do then, I’m doing now.”

“Killing them before they hurt too many, or anyone else.” Jason nodded. “In their honor, right?”

“I suppose.”

“You weren’t there for Dick’s situation.” Jason crossed his arms now too. Thoughtfully. “How were you supposed to stop that one?”

“Killed KGBeast when he became a known player.” Damian decided. “He would have been dead years ago, so unavailable to take the mission.”

“Sure, then someone else would have been asked to do it.” Jason sniffed. “And then they might have been a better shot.”

Damian didn’t respond to that. Didn’t move. Jason glanced him over, checked for any injuries or illness. Kid seemed fine at a glance. Just dirty, clothes starting to wear out. A few new holes that probably weren’t there when he started this little crusade.

Jason sighed.

“They wouldn’t want this for you, Damian.” Jason whispered. “Alfred or Dick.”

“Well, they’re not here to stop me, are they?” Damian snapped. His arms were still crossed, but now he seemed to bend in on himself. Hug himself.

“No, they’re not.” Jason agreed. “But I am.”

That made Damian turn around in surprise.

“And yes, before you whine about it, I’m fully aware it makes me a hypocrite.” Jason raised his hands in defense. “But we’ve lost enough this year. Excuse me if I’m not keen on adding you and your morality to that damn list.”

“…It’s what needs to be done.” Damian murmured sadly. “And Batman refuses to do it. That’s why, after all these years he’s been active, Gotham is still a hellhole. That’s why he loses those he claims to love time after time after damn time.”

Jason nodded. “Then I’ll do it. Not you.”

“I’m the most equipped to handle it!” Damian shouted now, stomping back at him. “I’ve been trained to do just this for my entire life!”

“And you shouldn’t have been!” Jason yelled back. “Talia should have protected you. Dick should have protected you better. Bruce should have talked to you about all this before he realized you’d already reached your fucking breaking point!”

“So then what else do you want me to do?!” Damian almost begged, tears welling up in his eyes. “Sit at home with the rest of you and grieve? Keep doing everything I was, like the only two people who ever cared about me weren’t ripped out of my life for no reason?!”

“I want you to slow down.” Jason said, tone instantly softer as he took hold of Damian’s shoulders. “I want you to let us take care of you.”

“Well I want to make sure no one goes through what we have.” Damian mumbled in return, the fight instantly leaving his system. “…What I have.”

“And I get that. I do.” He smiled and gestured to himself. “I mean, hello? I totally understand.” He let his smile drop. “But before we take care of everyone else, why don’t we try taking care of you first?” He paused for a second, squeezed Damian’s arms. “Why don’t we do it together?”

Damian just stared at him. “I can take care of myself.”

“Sure. Totally. So can I.” Jason winked. “But humour me. Just this once.”

Damian glanced down at Jason’s hands on his arms. “…You’re not going to let me go until I agree, will you?”

“You were taught better than to let your enemies get too close, remember?” Jason smiled.

Damian sighed and rolled his eyes. “Why do you care so much, Todd? What does it matter to you what I do?”

“Because as surprising as it may be, I don’t want you to end up like me.” Jason said honestly. A little too honestly for Damian’s taste. “You deserve better than… this.”

Damian looked him up and down. “…No I don’t.”

“A debate we can have later.” Jason laughed. “So, what do you say? Will you come home with me?”

Damian immediately jerked back in his hold, almost tripping over the dead body that Jason practically forgot was there. “No. No way.” He said immediately. “I am not going back to the manor.”

“Slow your roll, kiddo, you didn’t let me finish!” Jason called, reeling him back in. “You know I don’t live at the manor. When I say home, I mean come back to my home. A safehouse outside the city.”

Damian hesitated at that, eyeing Jason warily.

“I won’t even tell B that I found you, or that you’re with me.” Jason promised. “And I know you’re already itching to run. So at the very least, let me take you back to my place, get you a hot meal, a shower, and one decent night’s sleep. Then we’ll talk for real after that. Okay?”

Damian tilted his head, glancing up at the strip club in thought.

And it was a 50-50 chance that it would work. It could make the kid collapse in tears, or convince him to pull out that second knife Jason knew he had hidden on him and stab it into Jason’s throat. But he had to try. He had to.

“…It’s what Dick and Alfie would want you to do.”

To his surprise, Damian didn’t react immediately. Still kept his eyes upwards as he thought. Then, finally, he lowered his gaze to Jason. He blinked slowly, and Jason only now realized how tired the kid looked. Sad.

Lonely.

“Fine.” Damian said quietly after a moment. “I will take your food.”

Jason hadn’t realized his heart was tight with tension until it loosened at his words. He smiled and ruffled the kid’s hair as he stood, sliding his other hand down Damian’s arm until their fingers tangled together.

Damian didn’t even try to let go.

Jason glanced back at the dead man – who did deserve it, Damian wasn’t wrong about that – and made sure there was nothing around the body that would implicate Damian at least. When he saw nothing, he nodded and tugged the kid along behind him in the alleyway.

“Have any preference for dinner?”

“…Anything edible, I suppose.” Damian muttered thoughtfully. As if on cue, his stomach rumbled lightly. Jason smiled sympathetically.

“Well, that rules out anything I know how to cook.” Jason joked. He heard Damian snort a laugh behind him. That was as good a start as any. “So how about we find some nice, greasy takeout instead?”

Damian squeezed his hand, and Jason took that as silent gratitude. A thanks he was too embarrassed to admit. “That sounds perfect.”

#Damian Wayne #Jason Todd

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marksassybanana · 4 years

Text

Running 2 u

Sniper!Jeno x reader - slight Angst, Fluff, Smut

• Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, explicit content.

• Word count: 4k

• Summary: you’ve known Jeno for half of your life. You were pretty known in the mafia for your skills and always worked side by side. Only that one night one particular mission ends up stirring up inside the both of you all those pent up feelings that you kept pushing away, not wanting them to get in the way of your work and possibly ruining the relationship you had with your only friend.

A/N: took me a while to finish it since I usually don't have that much time to write, but finally here it is! I'd really love it if you left feedback because only like that I can understand if you actually enjoyed it or nah 🙃

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The cold breeze was making you shiver. Well, you weren't sure if it was for the cold weather or the mesmerizing view of the city you had from up there. If you forgot about your circumstances you'd be in a state of peace of mind. But that for sure wasn't the case.

You were currently on the top of a building, talking with your mission partner about your target. Jeno was setting up everything he needed, and lastly he took his weapon, with which in over 4 years he had never missed a shot. You were both from the same mafia group and trained together since you were 10, and spending together so much time you ended up becoming best friends. When you were assigned your first mission together, your boss noticed your obvious chemistry on the battle field, always having each other's backs and being able to finish off every single one of your targets without getting even a single scratch. Since then, he always assigned you two the most important missions. You were the ones who were called if someone messed up or if a task turned out to be more difficult than expected.

But in the last couple of years you noticed that something changed in your relationship. The lingering stares, the subtle touches, the way he tried to awkwardly compliment you after every mission, your heart that started beating like crazy every time you had to hide from someone in narrow alleys, your bodies pressed against each other. You just kept noticing every single detail that before you didn't make a big deal about, like the fact that he looked so hot and unperturbed while fighting someone and easily stabbing them, but then when you two were alone he was a cutie and one of the biggest goofballs you knew. God, the duality of this man.

At this point you were quite sure what this type of feeling was, but you kept denying it, trying to focus on your job and not wanting to scare off the only person who understood you and with whom you felt a deep connection. Returning to the situation at hand, Jeno after taking his sniper rifle turned to look at you, his breath caught for a moment in his throat, amazed by how flawless you looked, even more than the view of the city. You had your lips slightly parted as your eyes were casted on all the skyscrapers, glistening with nothing but amazement. Jeno desperately wanted to be the one you directed that gaze at. Composing himself, as if nothing happened, he went closer to you, making you look in his direction. "The target's almost here. You should go" he said, cursing himself for his harsh tone. He just couldn't stand the thought of what you had to do, even if it was for a few minutes before he had the perfect view of the man he had to kill. Sometimes, like tonight, you had to personally approach the target of the mission and distract them so that Jeno could take them out. He couldn't even count all the times that through his gunsight he had to see you chatting with someone, wearing a really short dress, your hands opening up a bit of your neckline and pushing up your breasts with your arms. If he hadn't gone trough years of training he would've for sure missed his shot at that sight. He just hated it. Hated it so much. He knew that you weren't his, but just thinking about you exposing your skin to someone else made him feel furious, made his heart painfully clench. No one deserved to put their filthy gazes on you. But what could he do about it? He was a coward, and a really big one. An hypocrite. How could he be there complaining when he couldn't even step up and tell you how he truly felt, how he wished he could be the only one to touch you and protect you, to make you feel all the love that you deserve. Ignoring the tone with which Jeno talked to you, you smiled at him. With a hand you took his sniper rifle and kissed it, while looking at him, a gesture you did every time since the first mission you two had together. He always insisted you did that, saying it brought him good luck, and since he never missed a shot you didn't complain about it. After doing that you started to make your way down the rooftop, slightly swaying your hips, then turning around you looked at the boy dressed all in black who was carefully watching you.

"I'll see you later" you said, before turning around.

"Yeah" he mumbled under his breath, hypnotized by how the dress you were wearing did perfect justice to your figure. He sighed, and prepared himself to do what he always did: wait, and then shoot.

A hour passed and about ten minutes ago Jeno saw you walking in the floor in which the guy he had to kill was. He watched you while you made your way to the man, who had to be in his mid thirties, and striked a conversation with him. As always, from the gunsight of his weapon, he saw the exchange that was happening between you two.

About five minutes in the conversation he was kinda impressed and relieved that the man still hadn't even tried to sneak glances at your body or tried something on you. But his relief was short lived since the man suddenly had you pinned to a wall, his head in the crook of your neck while his hand was traveling higher and higher up your thigh. His hand was inches away from going under your dress and Jeno could swear he heard the gun emit a cracking sound from how hard he was holding it. He was about to go there himself to slit that guy's throat open, also because his head was too close to yours, so he couldn't even shoot him. But as he was about to put down the gun he saw you take with both hands that man's head, slightly distancing it from you. Then you made the sign you and Jeno made up to tell him when he had to shoot.

He was startled. He honestly didn't know what to do. Yeah, your head was now slightly further from the target, but it was still too risky. He would never forgive himself if he ended up hurting you, or worse of all, kill you. But he made his decision the moment he took a closer look at you. From your face and your body language he could tell just how uncomfortable and disgusted you were. His breaking point was the moment you slightly turned your head in his direction with a pleading gaze, as if to beg him to immediately end that piece of shit's life. In the most careful way he could, he aimed at the man's head, and after a few seconds to make sure the aim was perfect, he shot.

For a minute he couldn't breathe, not until he made sure that that bastard's head had a hole in it and that you were completely fine. After finally seeing him fall down lifeless and you running away, like the rest of the people there, he too bolted to where his car was, in a back alley on the right of the building he was in. When he arrived there, you had just arrived as well. You were hugging yourself because of the cold and had droplets of blood on your face and upper part of your body. Jeno took off his jacket, put it around your shoulders and then hugged you tightly.

"Fuck Y/N, please tell me your ok". Your arms sneaked around his torso and you leaned your head on his chest feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

"Yeah...I...I'm just happy I'm here with you now" he kissed the top of your head and then pulled you slightly away from him to take a look at your face.

"Y/N, you have no idea...when I saw that man touch you I was about to run there to slit his throat open myself, but then you did the sign and...this could've ended really bad. You were so close to him, if I had aimed even a centimeter to the left- " "Jeno" he immediately shut up "I trust you with my life. I knew that you could pull that off, and you did. I know it was reckless of me, I'm sorry, but I couldn't stand that bastard's touch even a second longer" you sighed while looking at your feet.

"Neither could I. I....I really...it doesn't matter. Let's go back home. " he went inside of the car on the driver's seat, and after staying there for a few seconds, wondering what he was about to say, you too got inside of the car on the passenger seat.

The drive back home was silent. Your gaze lingered from the street in front of you to Jeno's side face. You admired his defined jawline , his lips, the mole he had under his right eye... He was truly breathtaking and you know it sounded cheesy, but you could literally spend hours just admiring him and tracing his features with your fingers.

The car stopped in the parking lot of the apartment building in which you and Jeno had your shared apartment. Your group rented it for you for a few weeks to take care of the missions you had on that side of the town. It was just easier to have you two nearby where you had to work.

Before you made your way out of the car he grabbed your wrist "Wait, let me clean at least your face, it's not the best idea to go around covered in blood" you nodded, cursing yourself for your stupidity. He took some wet wipes from the dashboard and started cleaning the blood that was on your face. While cleaning you he couldn't help but let his gaze fall to your lips a few times and he had to admit, you looked fucking hot with blood all over you. He looked down and saw that there was blood also on your cleavage. He nervously bit his lip and gave you some wet wipes "T-there's some also there" he pointed at the top of your breasts "Mh? To scared to clean it?" you smirked at him. "No...I... Ok, fuck" he said, taking the wipes from your hands, and before hesitating for a few seconds, he started taking off the last drops of blood from you. He didn't mean to, but he kinda got lost in the feeling of your breasts. Even if he wasn't touching them directly, he could feel how soft they were while he was running the wipes over them, trying not to press too hard. He spaced out, and even if now you were all cleaned up, well your skin not your clothes, he kept wiping your cleavage as if in a trance. You tried to suppress your laugh but you weren't successful "You know you cleaned all the blood from there like, five minutes ago, right?" He snapped his head up and his ears started turning red "Oh...yeah...yeah I was just making sure there wasn't...any left" You kept laughing and flicked his forehead "You're so cute" you said, while going out of the car, and trying to cover yourself with Jeno's jacket. "Hey, I'm not cute! I’m a killer for fuck’s sake" He said, he too getting off the car and going with you inside of the building "If you say so".

Once inside your apartment, you took off your heels "Finally! I hate wearing these, can't wait to take my dress off and take a shower" you sighed, while fiddling with the zip on the back of your dress but failing to actually pull it down.

"Need help with that?" You turned your head around and gulped. Jeno had an innocent smile on his face, but the look in his eyes was far from innocent. It could only be described as pure lust and it made your insides tremble with arousal.

"Oh...actually yes, thanks". He stood right behind you and started slowly opening the zip of your dress. He had one hand one your shoulder as the other was on your zip and you could feel it as it went down your spine to open your dress, giving you goosebumps. His hand suddenly came to a halt when your dress was completely open, revealing your lack of bra and the top of your black laced thong. You felt the hand on your shoulder stiffen and grasp you harshly.

"Fuck" he muttered from behind you "What-" you didn't even have the time to finish the sentence that he pushed you up against the nearest wall. "Y/N, I've tried so long to hold back, I really did, you have no idea. But it seems like you’re doing this on purpose to rile me up" he had his hands on both sides of your head as he stared directly in your eyes.

"I don't get what you're trying to-" "I love you Y/N. I fucking love you, so much that it fucking hurts. It's been years now and I really can't take this anymore. Do you even understand how much it hurts being forced to see other men touch you, look at you like they want to eat you alive every single fucking time we have missions like the one we had tonight?? Every time I see those assholes all I want to do is to cut off each one of their fingers and their penis. And seeing how disgusted and scared you are just breaks my heart and makes me feel so helpless. The moment I realized what I felt I was so scared. I didn't know what to do. You're my best friend, and the only person I truly care about and trust. If something were to happen to our friendship I'd fucking die, you mean so much to me and I can't afford to lose you".

A moment of silence followed, as tears slowly started streaming down your face. You were trying to process what he had just told you, and you couldn’t even grasp onto what you felt as those words left his lips. You were overwhelmed,to say the least. You took his face between your small hands "Jeno...I...you mean the world to me too. We basically grew up together and I’ve never trusted anyone as much as I trust you, I can’t even think about not having you in my life’’ you took a moment to inhale deeply before saying the next words “I love you too".

He did his signature eye smile, and with a hand he wiped away your tears. He leaned in ‘till your lips where almost brushing against each other with every word he said "Y/N, is this real? Is this fucking real?" His gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, with a pleading look

"Yes Jeno, I meant every single word" you smiled at him, while putting your hands on his shoulders. That's all it took. The tension that kept piling up for years of yearning for each other was suddenly cut off when his lips crushed against yours. They were as soft as they looked, or even better.

The kiss was slow, as if the both of you were still trying to realize that it was actually happen. When you both started to loosen up, you felt his tongue poking at your lips, asking for permission to enter. You parted your lips, letting his tongue meet yours. One of his hands went on your waist while the other was on your naked back pressing you even closer to him and you felt his crotch against yours, feeling his growing erection. He detached himself from you lips and made a trail of kisses from your jawline to your neck. You left out a little moan when he kissed a certain spot, so he started sucking on it until he left a dark purple hickey. He absolutely loved the way it looked on your skin and how it marked you as his,so he left hickeys all over your neck and on your cleavage. It was as if he was a painter and you were his canvas.

His hands went to the straps of the dress that was still on you, and he looked at you asking for permission. You made no sign to stop him and watched as he slid the straps off your shoulders and took your dress off. Like that you were left only in your panties. He lowered his head, kissing one of your breast while kneading the other, making you leave out a loud moan as he took your nipple in his mouth, sucking on it. Embarrassed that you made such a sound, you immediately covered your mouth with your hand, but he was having none of it. He took your hand and pinned it behind your head.

"Please, I want to hear every type of noise you make" he said, looking at you adoringly. He was about to go back to your breast when he saw the pout on your lips and felt you tug on his shirt. That made him realize that he was still fully clothed, so looking at you with a smirk he took off shirt. Your gaze went to his defined abs, running your fingers over them and making them linger lower and lower till you grasped his belt while the other hand suddenly grasped his buldge, making him hiss. You looked up at him with a pleading look "Jeno, please, I really want to suck you". He tried his best to remain composed as your hand was still on him.

"Baby, as much as I'd love to see you on your knees with my cock in your mouth, right now I really need to be inside of you. We have all the time to do that later". He lowered himself and picked you up bridal style, making you yelp from his sudden action, and went to his bedroom.

He threw you on his bed and took off his jeans. You just looked at him from where you were, even more aroused by how he manhandled you. You were lost in you thoughts when he hovered over you and slowly, he took off your panties. He stood there for some time, admiring your naked body in front of him. He fantasized about it so many times, but now that you actually were there, in your most vulnerable state, he couldn't help but make a mental photo of that moment. His gaze went from your breasts to your core, already glistening from how wet you were. Under his strong gaze full with love and lust you rubbed your legs together, trying to get some friction out of it and to try and cover yourself.

"P-Please do something" you said, breathless. He just chuckled at you while parting your legs and situating himself between them. "Yeah baby girl, sorry for making you wait". He kissed you and parted your lips with his tongue while his hand went lower and lower, until it was just a few inches away from where you needed him the most. You moaned in the kiss when he started running his long fingers up and down your slit. As he lowered his head and sucked on the nipple he had neglected before, he inserted a finger inside of you. You tried to suppress your moans but he looked at you and warned you.

"What did I say before?"

"S-sorry" and this time you let out a loud moan as he inserted another finger and started curling them inside of you "Good girl". His fingers felt so good inside of you, and you were about to reach your high when he suddenly stoppe . You looked at him and left out a whiny moan.

"Sorry baby, but I need you to come on my cock". He lifted himself up and took a condom from the drawer next to his bed. He took off his boxers, his hard cock slapping against his abs, and then he put the condom on it. He lowered himself again, until he was aligned with your core. While rubbing the tip of his cock on your folds he looked up at you.

"Are you sure about this? I mean, I let myself get carried away. We just rushed everything and-" "Jeno. I wouldn't want to do this with any other person. I trust you and right now I fucking need you. So please fuck me, I can't take it anymore. Wanna feel your cock pounding inside of me". It took him all the strength in his body to not immediately slam his cock inside of you, doing it slowly instead, to make you adjust to the stretch.

"Fuck, you're so tight". Seeing your face scrunch in mild discomfort, he kissed you as you wrapped your arms and legs around him. After a minute, you looked at Jeno and clenched around him, making him swear "Please move".

He started going in and out of you at a slow pace, still afraid of hurting you "Jeno, please go faster. It doesn't hurt and..." you paused to let out a small moan "...I want you to ruin me". And that's what made him snap. He suddenly threw your legs over his shoulders and started slamming in and out of you at an inhuman pace. He leaned down and bit your earlobe, whispering in your ear "Is that it? You want me to ruin your pretty little pussy? Want me to make a mess of you? Because that's what you're gonna get baby girl". At this point you were sure the whole building was able to hear your desperate moans as Jeno kept fucking you to oblivion.

He was close, very close. Your walls kept clenching around him as if trying to make him immediately milk inside of you. His hand went down and he started frenetically rubbing your clit in circles, desperate to make you cum with him. You wanted to last longer but with the added stimulation it didn't take you much to arrive at your limit. You grabbed his head and kissed him messily, spit running down your chin, while you both came at the same time, moaning in the kiss.

After you both reached your high, you remained like that, enjoying being in each others embrace and loving the feeling of being connected. A few minutes passed staying in that position, and Jeno pulled out of you, throwing the condom away. He layed beside you, pulling you into a hug with your head on his chest.

"That was amazing. I still have to process everything. Still can't believe you're here with me in my arms" he said, stroking your head. You leaned up enough to kiss him and told him.

"Yeah me too. This is...beyond amazing". He chuckled at you and sat up.

"Let's go take a shower" he said, while going off the bed and offering you his hand to get up.

"Yes, I've been dying to take a shower since the moment I was covered in blood". He followed you with his gaze and watched your ass you as you made your way inside the bathroom.

"Mhm baby...do you want me to "ruin" you in the shower too?" and he started laughing loudly as he saw your face turn completely red. You hit him on the arm "Oh my god, shut up! I-I said it just because I was so caught in the moment" you said, trying to defend yourself

"Yeah sure, if you say so". And you both went in the shower to finally get cleaned up.

Let's just say that in the end, he did "ruin" you in the shower too.

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