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jungkxook · 4 years

Text

—pour up. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader x taehyung

⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / fuckboy!taehyung + smut

⟶ words: 14,048 (idk how it’s literally just smut)

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: sleeping with both notorious frat boys kim taehyung and jeon jungkook doesn’t sound so bad ━ especially when you’re drunk and faded.

⟶ warnings: mentions of drug/alcohol use, essentially pwp lol, threesome, double penetration, voyeurism, messy rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dry humping, manhandling, doggy style, riding (sort of?), fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), face riding, face fucking, deepthroating, breast play, slight begging (mostly oc making jungkook beg hehe), brief name calling, dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: this is a repost of a fic from my old blog! also shout out to miss jlin @bratkook for being the sweetest and for liking this trashy fic of mine, and a happy early birthday present to @onherwings miss juno, the resident taekook lover!! 💛

also the accompanying song to this fic is pour up by dean!

There were times when you were sober where you were persistent about never being in a five foot radius of a frat boy, much less strip yourself of your dignity long enough to sleep with one.

Your appalling disgust and immense irritation of the male species that were frat boys kept you well in tune to your rule ━ until you’re far past the point of drunk and faded. Only then, when your bloodstream is laced with alcohol and your mind is nothing but a hazy cloud of smoke, you shrink into a shameless hypocrite and favour the appeal of a simple hook up. But you have needs too; it isn’t entirely your fault. Kim Taehyung offers you exactly that, with the promise to then act as if nothing happens the very next day so that the two of you can revert to despising one another out in public.

You act as if no one knows about your flings with ultimate frat boy Taehyung almost every weekend, as if they’re just as oblivious as you, but damn near the whole school knows and most certainly the rest of the boys in Beta Tau Sigma, or as Taehyung puts it, his brothers. It’s a useless cycle of bicker, avoid, drink, sex, and repeat, ever since you joined the school as a freshman and the sophomore boy took an interest in you. He’s charming in all the right ways and good looking but his smooth appeal was almost too good to be true and, past his “kind” smiles, you could make him out to be arrogant, vain, and cocky. Maybe you would have given him an actual chance had it not been for his snarkiness but all your brain could truly handle was his dick for a few hours a week.

Unsurprisingly, you always end up crashing at Beta Tau Sigma after one of their raging parties that results in your hook ups with Taehyung; surprisingly, Taehyung is miraculously into pillow talk post-sex and so he doesn’t entirely mind if you stay the night. But, by morning, when the alcohol has all but turned into a terrible hangover, he can hardly care less if you stay or not.

Usually, you wake up on your own, courtesy of past sober you setting an alarm on your phone to make sure you wake up earlier than all the other walkers of shame and anyone else in Beta Tau Sigma. Ideally, it was to help guarantee that no one would ever see you or judge you for stooping low enough to sleep with a fuckboy but you don’t know how well that’s working out for you anymore, if you’re being honest.

That’s why, early one fateful Sunday morning after a night of fun with Taehyung, you awaken with a start to the shrill Marimba tone that rips through the silence of the room and causes you to literally jump out of bed and crash onto the floor. You groan at the sharp pain that shoots up your spine and accompanies your groggy mind as your eyes flicker open only to be greeted with a blinding light that is the sun as it filters through the shut curtains. Littered on the ground are clothes, your clothes, beer bottles, red solo cups, discarded bed sheets, a singular condom wrapper (you thank your past selves for at least being sober enough to remember to use one), and your cell phone.

“Turn that shit off, for fuck sakes,” he grovels.

His hangover, and the early morning, makes his already deep voice even rougher, huskier, and you blame your disoriented mind for thinking he sounds even remotely sexy. He doesn’t bother to lift his head from his pillow or to find where you are in the room, the messy longer-than-usual curls of his hair flopping into his lashes as he flips onto his back. Other bodily remnants remain from the night before, from the mellowing ache between your legs left in the wake of his dick sufficiently railing you to the bite marks on his neck that you had so graciously bestowed him.

Now, you roll your eyes at him instead but dive for your phone nearby and tap the snooze button before it wakes the entire house and rouses the army of fuckboys from the dead.

“Good morning to you too,” You remark. “Is that better, princess?”

“Much.”

You push yourself to your feet and stretch, the stiff joints in your body popping and cracking, before searching for your clothes. You’re certain Taehyung has fallen back asleep as you dig around through the clutter to find your belongings but what else is new? It’s a routine the two of you have come to know well, and one that neither of you mind. You spot some sort of lacy material hidden underneath a few of Taehyung’s dirty laundry laying on the floor and reach for it thinking it’s yours. You’re only mildly disturbed to find that it isn’t yours at all ━ though you’re more concerned about the hygienic purposes of touching some other girl’s thong than you are about the blatant fact Taehyung sleeps with more girls than just you (a fact you swear you could care less for).

“Jesus Christ, your room is a disaster,” You scoff now.

“You could clean it,” Taehyung suggests sluggishly. Now, he’s awake, pretty and hooded eyes fluttering open to find you nearby. He props his hand behind his head to lift his gaze a little higher.

You snort, tossing the underwear away. “You never cease to━”

“Amaze you?”

“Repel me more than when I see the collection of thongs you have hidden in your room,” You correct. Fortunately, you spot your own underwear nearby and scoop it up, quickly slipping into them.

“Aw, baby, is that a bit of jealousy I hear?” Taehyung asks. He runs a hand through his dishevelled dark locks and shoots you a drowsy smirk. “You know you’re my one and only. I can always count on you when I want good head.”

“Please, flatter me some more, Tae,” You quip dryly.

As you hastily slide into your stiff shirt and jeans next and turn to face him, combing your fingers through your hair, Taehyung seems to take your words to heart and tries again. “You look like shit.”

You feign a voluntarily loud and overly dramatic moan. “Ugh, you really do know how to treat a girl━” Your cut off by a shameless snort from Taehyung before you continue on, “You know, you don’t exactly look the hottest right now either.”

“I beg to differ,” he replies nonchalantly. Technically, he isn’t lying, but you refuse to feed his ego any more.

“As if.”

“Funny,” he hums. “Could’ve sworn last night you were calling me hot when you were begging for my dick.”

You don’t bother to reply. Instead, you shake your head as you rub your tired face, uttering, “I need a coffee.”

“You could stay,” he offers. “I can make you one.”

“You don’t even know how to boil water,” You retort. “But thanks for the gesture. Try not to throw up on yourself today, okay?”

Taehyung mumbles something in response but then he’s already flipping over onto his side to fall back asleep again. You grab your bag from the floor and slip into your shoes before tiptoeing out of the room.

The Beta house is just as much a disaster as Taehyung’s room is and you find yourself stepping over more bottles, cups, empty pizza boxes, and hungover passed out people with phallic images doodled on their faces. The sun filters into the ever grand mansion and only illuminates the chaos the frat boys put it through. Everyone is thankfully still asleep as you head downstairs but, as you sneak past the kitchen, you notice two figures rummaging about, boisterous unabashed laughter filling the house that somehow hasn’t woken the others yet.

Jeon Jungkook stands before you with Park Jimin, both fellow Beta brothers, though Jungkook is in the same year as you. They, like most other Beta boys (and especially Taehyung), are well known on campus but Jungkook is perhaps even worse than Taehyung. Now, he’s adorned in only low hanging gray sweatpants that show off the ripples of his toned chest and the happy trail that threatens for your eyes to follow it. He holds a bowl of cereal close to him with the same arm decorated on every inch with tattoos, a snapback pushing his messy hair up and away from his forehead. The best part (and you mean that not at all) ━ or the worst ━ is the fact that he stands on a hoverboard, as if walking is too much for him to handle at nine in the morning. Jimin isn’t far off wearing the same attire, only his look is paired with the fuckboy-essential-starter-pack of socks and Adidas slides, and he’s at least actually using his legs to walk.

“Morning,” Jungkook smirks. “Time for the walk of shame?”

You have to retain a sigh. “I’m surprised you’re up, Jeon. I was sure you were gone past the point of saving last night.”

“A couple of shots do nothing for me,” Jungkook replies, shovelling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “I was pretty much sober.”

At this, you sit back on your heels and look him once over skeptically. “You kept trying to hook up with me, called your dick Jungcock, threw up in one of the vases, and then passed out in the bathtub. I wouldn’t have exactly called you sober.”

The smirk remains on Jungkook’s face. If anything, he seems more so amused and it pisses you off. Jimin bursts into a fit of laughter and shakes his head.

“Always a pleasure seeing you, Y/N,” he greets. “Hey, are you coming to the party going down at Lambdas house after exams? It’s pretty exclusive but you and your friends are all invited by courtesy of us.”

“Ugh, I can’t even think about going to another party right now. How do you Beta whores do it?” You grovel. “Besides, why would we come if we know you’re going to be there?”

“‘Cause Tae’s going and you’re probably gonna wanna suck his dick,” Jungkook suggests snidely.

“I was gonna say the free booze,” Jimin offers instead. “Man, you know the Lambdas. They’re all rich pretentious sons of country club owners. They hardly throw parties but, when they do, you know it’s going to be wild. I wouldn’t miss it if I were you.”

“Well,” You say, “thanks for the invitation but we’ll see. Maybe if we have a pre-game where I can get drunk enough to handle your faces and the Lambda boys together.”

“I’ve always said you’re more fun when you’re drunk,” Jungkook hums pensively. Your eyes narrow into a glare and you’re fortunate Jimin is there to block your path from tackling Jungkook.

“Okay, whatever,” You grumble. “I’m out of here. I think if I stay here any longer, I’ll lose all my brain cells.”

Jimin chuckles but hardly seems bothered by your comment. He waves you off as he slips out of the kitchen to retreat into another room, leaving you alone with Jungkook.

“Can I get you anything before you go?” he asks. There’s a cheeky tone laced in his words that makes you blatantly aware he’s trying to suggest something more, like his dick.

“Absolutely not,” You wave him off. “See you around, Jungidiot.”

He grins and shoves another spoonful into his mouth. “Hey, maybe next Saturday you can think about blowing me instead of Tae, yeah?”

He’s met with you jamming your middle finger in his face and it only seems to entertain him further. As you march out of their home, slamming the door behind you, you have one discernable thought amongst your hangover and that is that you’ll definitely need to have that pre-game before you have the audacity to even see Jungkook, or any of the Beta boys for that matter, at the Lambdas.

That Saturday, you find yourself at the Lambdas house party.

So maybe you had sort of been lying when you said you weren’t so sure of going to it, but the thought was tempting enough and you aren’t one to pass up on a good party, especially when it’s after weeks of headaches and stressing over studying and exams.

Mid-terms come and go and when you finally finish writing your last paper, all you want to do is let loose and party and get dicked down by Taehyung. The Lambdas, despite their pretentious behaviour, looks to be very promising ━ but only after you down a few shots beforehand and have a beer while you’re getting ready. You’re not exactly as drunk or as tipsy as you would have prefered but it still gives you a nice enough buzz that makes you warm and lets the adrenaline pump in your veins and excites you even more for the party. The house you rent is off campus but it’s close to Beta’s and Taehyung offers to give you guys a lift to the Lambdas who are a fifteen minute walk away (but you know Taehyung will do anything to not walk anywhere his penny board can’t take him ━ and it’s not even Taehyung who is driving but his friend, Jin).

You can hear the party at Lambdas before you’re even there. The thump of bass coming from the house isn’t hard to miss, especially not with the way it seems to rattle the ground the closer you get. The house is crammed full to capacity and people have already begun to spill onto the lawn by the time you have arrived. A potent waft of alcohol and weed fill your senses and it is all you could really make out in the rambunctious party. You can hardly hear yourself think, let alone what others are saying to you. Yet, you still found a way to have fun almost instantly, drifting away from the guys to party with your friends.

Most of the night is a blur and a haze of confusion but you can remember drinking and drinking some more until you’re sufficiently smashed. You can’t quite recall where you had lost your friends, though you suspect it was after the intense game of beer pong you were suckered into in which you were certain there were no winners or losers as it was just an excuse to drink even more. It’s nearing 1 a.m. when you finally bump into a familiar face, pulling you back from the unruly party and the adrenaline rush coursing through your veins.

You’ve just slipped outside for some fresh air, perched on the front porch, when you notice Jimin is passed out on the lawn below. The other stragglers gathered outside barely take note of him but maybe that’s because he had chosen to faceplant in the shadows under the porch, tucked safely away from the rest of the party. Just before you can even think to walk over to him and make sure he’s still alive, the front door of the house swings wide open and a frenzied Taehyung bursts outside, shortly followed by an equally dumbfounded Jungkook.

“Where the fuck is he?” Taehyung hisses.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook sighs, disgruntled, “but leave it to him to run off and disappear.”

“Looking for someone?”

The two boys startle at your voice. They whirl around to find you taking a sip of the drink in your hand, as if only just noticing your presence. You hadn’t seen them since you parted ways a handful of hours ago in the party, though you’re fairly certain they’re just as smashed as you.

“Ah, babe!” Taehyung beams wolfishly. “What a pleasure seeing you out here. Uh, you wouldn’t happen to have seen where Jimin went, would you?”

You nod in the direction of the sleeping boy down below. “He’s there. He’s passed out cold, though. What the hell did you do to him?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook says. He grimaces as he hastily follows Taehyung down onto the lawn to stand near Jimin, and you in tow. “Jimin just likes to get out of hand. What should we do, Tae? We can’t just leave him here and Luna’s going to be pissed if she sees him like this.”

Taehyung stares down at Jimin miserably, thinking momentarily. “Well, Luna’s looking for him so we might as well drop him off at her dorm. He can deal with her when he’s sober.”

There’s a brief moment where you spot Jungkook seriously considering this though, as if leaving Jimin on the lawn of a frat house is a safer option than returning him to his girlfriend. Ultimately, he caves and you watch as Taehyung nudges Jimin awake (and by nudge, you mean he slaps the boy across the face) before pulling a very disoriented Jimin to his feet and slinging one of his arms over Taehyung’s neck.

“Fuck, he’s heavy,” Taehyung huffs. “Give me a hand, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods, stepping forward to take Jimin’s other arm and hook it around his own neck. The two boys seem to be struggling carrying most of Jimin’s body weight, though they’re carrying mostly dead weight as Jimin continues to drift in and out of consciousness.

Before they can leave you offer to help though you don’t know what you can really do so you suspect your inebriated mind just wanted to go with them for the hell of it. Luna’s place isn’t far. It’s a ten minute walk from Lambda’s, but in that ten minutes, none of you talk about anything of real importance except for chuckle and laugh about things that happened at the party.

Eventually you make it to Luna’s, who answers the door angrily after you knock on it as if you’ve disrupted her slumber and frowns when she sees Jimin’s current state. At least she has the decency to thank the three of you. When she shuts the door behind her, the three of you turn to look at one another, almost clueless.

“So, what now?” Taehyung asks. “Head back to the party?”

The thought of making the ten minute walk back to the party in your drunken mind seems like an eternity. That, mixed with the way your feet scream in agony from the heels you’re wearing, you begin to pout and shake your head.

“I can’t walk anymore,” You whine, words drunkenly slurring together. “I’d be fine just sitting here.”

Jungkook’s nose scrunches as he looks at you once over. “How drunk are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, how about we just go back to our place?” Taehyung asks. His arm slides around your waist then, tugging you close to his side. If one thing is for certain, the boy tends to get more handsy the more drunk he is, and you never seem to mind. “I’ve got a fresh bowl we can hit and we can drink there and just chill?”

You and Jungkook consider Taehyung’s offer fleetingly and, to you, it seems much more appealing.

“Sign me up,” You say. “The Lambdas were a bit too over the top for my liking. There’s only so much I can handle.”

Jungkook shrugs and nods in agreement. “Then I guess I’m going with you guys.”

The five minute walk to Beta is short and soon you’re inside the eerily empty house and climbing the steps to Taehyung’s room but not before the three of you raid their cabinets for any type of liquor. Eventually, you’re all lounging in Taehyung’s room, some type of music playing in the background as the three of you pass around a bottle of whisky and the bong Taehyung had promised he had, giggling at each other.

By 2 a.m., you are smashed and faded but blissfully so.

Taehyung and Jungkook are not too far off. It’s Taehyung who comes up with the idea to play strip poker, though with a twist. His version of the game includes: taking a shot anytime one of you loses a round along with either stripping an article of clothing or being allowed to pass it and get dared to do something else, though each person only has three passes.

Jungkook loses the first round, shedding only his jacket. Taehyung and you lose the second round; you decide to strip out of your own cardigan while Taehyung flicks off his hat. Jungkook and Taehyung lose the third round and both kick off their shoes. The game progresses slowly, with the three of you coming up with “clever” loopholes out of the rules, like stripping one sock one round and then another sock the next and all of you are too drunk to really protest. Eventually, the game winds up with Taehyung and Jungkook both in their pants and you still wearing both your shirt and jeans. Both the boys have used one of their passes and are still losing which, you will admit, boosts your confidence ever so slightly especially when you have such a nice view in front of you.

Both boys are toned, with certified gym rat Jungkook’s abs a bit more chiseled, and you know that sober you would cringe at how hard you seem to be drooling over them. Jungkook must notice because he shoots you a wink that has you squirming in your seat.

“Like what you see?” he asks.

“N-No,” You say shortly. “Shut up and go. It’s your turn.”

You end up losing that round, unfortunately, but you have no qualms with stripping out of your jeans and kicking them to the side. The next round, you lose again, except you decide to use one of your passes which has both boys groaning in defeat.

“Remember,” You coo, “play nice boys.”

The two exchange a look and you wait patiently, taking your shot of whisky in the meantime as Taehyung chides you on encouragingly with a cheeky, “Pour up, baby girl.”

You down the shot in one gulp, wincing as it burns down your throat, then chase it quickly with the drink you had stolen from their kitchen. A drowsy smirk tugs at Taehyung’s lips as he takes another rip from the bong, breathing out a cloud of smoke as he hums insouciantly, “I’ve got your dare.”

There’s a split moment where he makes eye contact with you and pushes his hair out of his eyes.

“Come here and kiss me.”

Had you been sober, you might have rolled your eyes at his simple yet assertive dare but, instead, you can’t help but snicker as you lean across to him from your seat on the floor and pull him down for a not so graceful kiss. His whisky coated tongue instantly collides with yours in an open mouthed frenzy that’s full of teeth clashing and wet sounds but it’s hot, too hot, even as Taehyung pulls you closer to him with his hand grasping at your chin. You instinctively react, teeth nipping at his lower lip as you suck hard, momentarily forgetting about Jungkook sitting in the room.

A moan emits from you as your fingers thread through his hair. Jungkook is left to watch but his eyes stay locked on your figure and the way you cave so easily to Taehyung, the way your mouth moves against his. He can’t seem to tear his eyes away from your position on your hands and knees, or the way you arch your back in an attempt to get closer to Taehyung, and he certainly can’t seem to look away from the tempting curve of your ass jutting in his direction. All Jungkook suddenly wants is for you to be kissing him the same way you’re kissing Taehyung.

You’re only interrupted when he finds the nerve to clear his throat after a few moments. “Nah, it’s alright, I’ll just sit here. Do you guys want me to leave?”

He’s being sarcastic, of course, and when you and Taehyung part to look at the boy, he’s scowling. The two of you chuckle lightly but don’t respond, though you remember the game you’re still playing. Taehyung kisses you one last time before you settle back onto the floor, a sheepish giggle bubbling in your chest. Taehyung loses the next round and he decides to strip down into his underwear though he hasn’t lost yet (the goal is nudity and neither of your drunk selves have enough dignity left to give up before then).

The round after that, you lose again. You decide, once more, to use another one of your passes and the two boys pause, thinking of a dare for you as you take a shot (which, you have realized, only get harder to take as time passes).

“I have one,” Taehyung says at long last.

“Bro,” Jungkook groans, “if you just wanna fuck, let me know. I’ll leave. I don’t think I can sit here and watch you dare her to suck your face again.”

Taehyung laughs and shakes his head. “Easy there. I was just gonna suggest that you━” he points at you before nodding toward Jungkook, “give him a lap dance.”

“A what?” Jungkook’s jaw drops open, his eyes widening. “M-Me?”

You glance up at Taehyung, quirking an eyebrow. “Him?”

Taehyung erupts into another fit of laughter but he’s the only one who finds the situation hilarious because you and Jungkook continue to sit there, dumbfounded. When Taehyung calms himself down, he wipes his eyes and shakes his head.

“Are you seriously telling me you haven’t been noticing?” he asks.

“Noticing what?”

“The way Jungkook keeps eye-fucking you,” Taehyung says simply.

Jungkook gaps. “The fuck? I haven’t.”

“Jungkook, you’re not exactly sly,” Taehyung says. “He’s been doing it the whole night, babe. It’s not the first time he’s done it, too. I just figured we could do him a little favour.”

Your turn to look up at Jungkook and purse your lips. He’s seated in Taehyung’s desk chair and has a frown painted on his face. It’s not like it comes as a surprise to you because he’s constantly trying to flirt with you even when you’re sober but his sudden flustered appearance puzzles you slightly. You’ll admit the idea is ludicrous, but Jungkook is undeniably hot, and grinding on his dick sounds more than wonderful to you in your current state. Either way, you stand to your feet.

“I’ll do it,” You say. “Why not?”

“Wh-What?” Jungkook yelps. “You will?”

“Yeah,” You flash him a pearly smirk. “What? Is confident Jungkookie finally shy?”

At the mention of the taunting nickname, he straightens up in his seat and scowls. “No. I’m just surprised you gave in so easily. You must really like me, huh?”

“Keep dreaming, Jeon,” You retort.

The music is still playing in the background as you slink towards Jungkook’s seated figure. Meanwhile, Taehyung is watching with an amused look on his face and sits back, clearly enjoying the view as he tells you that you have three minutes. As you approach Jungkook, he leans back in his seat and watches you with dark eyes. Jungkook’s eyes sweep over your figure, from the way you muse your hands through your messy hair, your tight tank top with one strap falling down your shoulder, your lacy and scantily clad underwear, and your smooth legs. He gulps at the sight and shifts in his seat.

As soon as you’re standing in front of him, you whirl around so that your back is to him and jutt your butt out just enough to catch his attention as you sway your hips to the music. Your hands ghost up your sides just faintly enough so that chills run down your spine and you lock eyes with Taehyung for a split second to see him grinning. You sit back on Jungkook’s lap and his breath hitches in his throat suddenly. He hates to admit how easily you’re driving him crazy and as soon as you are but he takes the time to enjoy the dance anyway, eyes staying trained on your ass as you grind against him in agonizingly slow circles and right against his dick nestled against his thigh. He can’t help it when a moan emits from him.

“Fucking hell,” he grunts, raking his hands through his hair. You snicker at his reaction, craning your neck to look behind at him.

“Enjoying yourself, Kookie?”

“N-No,” he rasps. This is a lie, of course. “Turn around.”

His command only humours you but you don’t disobey. You get up for a second to spin around and face him before climbing back onto his lap, swinging one leg over his. Before you drop your hips completely on him, you’re rocking them back and forth against the thin air, your hands snaking around his neck. His hands suddenly find purchase on your waist and he yanks you down onto him with a sudden neediness that surprises you, though you don’t complain. You continue to grind against his lap and you can’t help your greedy self when your hands reach out to run up and down his toned chest. He shivers at your slightest touch, his jaw clenched, but he keeps his gaze focused on your eyes, as if challenging you for more. Behind you, Taehyung is taking another hit from the bong and laughs lightly at Jungkook’s reactions.

“Let him touch you,” Taehyung says.

You expect Jungkook to listen to Taehyung and reach out to grab onto you but he hesitates, his hands remaining at your hips. So, instead, you take his hands in yours and begin pulling them up, sliding them along your midriff and up to your chest. You don’t even flinch as you let him cup your boobs over your clothes and you watch him slyly as he gulps.

“Is this the first time you’ve actually touched a girl, Jungkook?” You quip. “You’re gawking at my boobs like it is. Not gonna wet yourself, hm?”

“Fuck off,” he growls, though there’s no malice in his voice.

Instead, he focuses his attention on your breasts and the weight of them in his palm. They’re soft and supple and he squeezes them firmly, jiggles the flesh as he fondles at you blatantly. He hates to admit it but he feels as if he’s going to combust at any second, repressing the sudden urge to tear off your shirt and burrow his head in your chest, your boobs in his mouth. He doesn’t know whether the soft moan that slips from your parted pink lips is intentional to mess with him or because you had been getting carried away yourself. Either way, Jungkook’s certain it’s the hottest thing he’s heard in a while, the hottest thing he’s seen in a while, and he hates how his sudden erection forms, how embarrassing it must be. When you feel his hardened length start to poke at your thigh, you look down at him past your lashes and smirk.

“Are you hard already, Kookie?” You giggle.

Taehyung roars with laughter abruptly and the outburst only makes Jungkook redden.

“I━I━” he stammers helplessly.

You shake your head at him and then purposely press your hips a little more firmly against his, gripping at his shoulders now. You’re challenging him now too, and he doesn’t know what you have in mind but you’re wickedly set on making him cum in his pants before Taehyung stops you.

“Time’s up,” he says.

Jungkook almost groans out loud in frustration when you pull away and step off of his lap. He’s embarrassingly hard now but his drunk self doesn’t try very hard to hide it. Taehyung’s stare is settled on Jungkook as you walk back to your seat but, before you can even sit down, Taehyung is beckoning you over.

“Come here, babe,” he hums. You look at him curiously but move in his direction. “What do you say we help Jungkook with his problem, huh?”

“Help? How?” You question.

“Come sit,” Taehyung gestures to his thigh.

Jungkook watches with silent seething jealousy as you take a seat on Taehyung’s thigh and then he’s kissing you, pressing his lips against your neck. You react almost instantly, your head craning to allow him more access and your eyes clamp shut, your mouth hanging open in delight.

“Tae━” You mewl, tugging at his hair, as if to prompt him wordlessly about Jungkook’s presence. But when does it become too much? Every action seems to keep building and building, that you know where the night surely must be heading; that you crave it.

Taehyung’s tongue swirls at your neck, his lips sucking on the sensitive skin, before he peeks one eye open to look at Jungkook.

“Look at him,” Taehyung hums against you. “Look at how jealous he is right now. Look at how bad he wants to be me right now.”

You take a moment to register his words, your head spinning. You struggle to find Jungkook as Taehyung continues to ravish your neck. Jungkook’s stare is hard, his jaw clenched; his hands are balled into tight fists that let you see the bulging veins in his arms. Is he jealous? Angry?

Taehyung suddenly bites down onto your neck and you gasp in surprise, leaning against his chest. His nimble fingers find the hem of your shirt which he lifts and discards on the floor with ease. Next to come off is your bra. You don’t realize your torso is bare until a slight breeze hits your breasts and perks your nipples and Taehyung reaches up to cup the soft tissue in his large hands and Jungkook can’t look away because, fuck, touching you is all he really wants to do.

“Do you see him staring now?” Taehyung asks. “Do you see how desperate he is for you? Look at how bad he wants to touch you right now, baby girl. Will you let him?”

You’re still staring at Jungkook as Taehyung speaks and note how fast Jungkook’s demeanour has changed. He looks helpless, his erection more prominent in his straining jeans which he shamelessly palms at to feel some sort of relief.

“Better yet,” Taehyung hums, averting your attention back to him. He’s sliding one of his hands down your front and in between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. His digits come in contact with your clothed pussy and the sudden touch, light and feathery, makes you jump and gasp. You hadn’t been aware of how wet you had been until he touched you just then and the coil in your stomach only tightens with each passing second. “Will you let him play with you?”

It takes you a second to respond, though that isn’t because you’re struggling to decide. The thought entices you far more than you ever believed it could. Taehyung is suddenly rubbing his fingers against your clothed clit in so very slow circles that it suddenly has you tripping over your own thoughts. You’re biting hard onto your lower lip as you force yourself to nod hastily.

“Do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.

“Fuck, yes,” You whine. “Mmm, Tae━”

Taehyung shifts you in his lap so that your back is pressed against his chest, leaning all your weight against him. It’s hard to focus as one of his hands fondles one of your breasts while his other presses figure eights onto your clit. You’re on full display for Jungkook now, though his eyes fall to the wet spot that forms on your pretty little underwear as your arousal leaks from you.

“How badly do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.

“So badly,” You whimper.

This catches Jungkook’s attention and he leans forward in his seat. Taehyung smirks against you and then he’s moving, withdrawing his hand from between your thighs to hook around the waistband of your underwear. He gives it a quick tug and you fumble to lift your hips so he can pull the useless fabric down your legs. Once it pools at your feet, you kick it off to the side and then Taehyung’s hand returns between your thighs.

“Spread your legs,” he says.

You do as you’re told, pushing your thighs apart but then instinctively squeezing them shut when Taehyung continues to press his fingers against your clit. The sudden stimulation is too much for you and your face begins to heat up so Taehyung uses the chance to push your legs apart for you. He hitches one of your thighs over his own as if to anchor you in place and it works.

“Can you stay like that for me, baby?” Taehyung drawls. “Look at Jungkook for me.”

You nod, your throat dry as you lift your gaze to lock eyes once more with Jungkook. You find the boy gawking at your sex and you moan suddenly. His head snaps up to stare at you with a sudden blazing determination and lust in his eyes before they fall once more to your pussy, admiring the way it pulsates each time Taehyung swipes at your clit or tweaks at your nipples. But the best part? The best part is just how wet you are, your clear juices coating Taehyung’s fingers, spilling onto yours and Taehyung’s thighs with the passing seconds, and suddenly Jungkook is hungry for you. But what he doesn’t know is how you suddenly imagine Jungkook in Taehyung’s place, sat beneath you poised daintily on his lap, his fingers pressing against you.

You twist on top of Taehyung, your own hand reaching up to grasp at your other breast, pinching at the nipple tightly. A delighted moan fumbles from your lips. “Jungkook━ Fuck━”

“It’s nice, yeah?” Taehyung asks aloud to the other boy. “She’s pretty, hm?”

Jungkook nods eagerly and then groans. “She’s dripping. Fuck, it’s so hot.”

Your face burns at his words but you don’t have enough wits to think of a snarky retort like usual.

Taehyung chuckles. “Why don’t you come here then and touch her? Taste her? Is that okay, baby?”

When you realize Taehyung is asking you, you nod eagerly. “Shit, please━ Jungkook, wanna feel you━”

At your request, Jungkook practically tumbles out of his seat. As soon as he’s standing on his feet, the realization seems to hit him and he takes his time, walking to you slowly. His gaze sweeps over your exposed body and he licks his lips, his eyes suddenly darkening. Taehyung doesn’t stop touching you or marking your neck his even as Jungkook walks closer and it hits you in that moment what exactly you’re doing and who you’re with ━ and you fucking love it. Jungkook kneels down in front of you and Taehyung nods in encouragement.

“She’s impatient and feisty,” Taehyung informs. “But that makes her fun to tease.”

“I know how to pleasure a girl,” Jungkook quips.

“But you don’t know how to pleasure Y/N,” Taehyung replies. “You’re too cocky, Jungkookie, and she doesn’t like that. You need to take your time with her and you don’t do that often with girls, do you?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond but, judging by his face, you assume Taehyung is right.

“What do you want me to do?” Jungkook asks. He’s staring at your face now and only your face. His intense stare makes you squirm on Taehyung’s lap, and makes you suck your lower lip between your teeth.

“Touch me,” You rasp. “Touch me, please, Jungkook.”

God, how he loves hearing you moan his name. But the anticipation is killing you. You’ve felt Taehyung’s fingers plenty of time; you’ve never felt Jungkook’s, and the abrupt need seems to grow more intense with each passing second.

“You heard her, Jungkookie,” Taehyung says. He draws his hand away from your heat and kisses your neck softly. “Go on. Touch her. Be gentle, go slow.”

Jungkook is shaking with excitement ━ or maybe it’s just the weed and alcohol in his bloodstream ━ but he eyes you carefully, gnawing down on his lower lip. He reaches out at a tedious pace and hesitates, his fingers hovering over your core. Taehyung is watching with eager eyes whilst planting open mouthed kisses along your shoulders, neck, and jawline. Jungkook finally presses his fingers against your pussy and your reaction is immediate. You toss your head back against Taehyung’s shoulder and jutt your hips forward.

“Nnngh, fuck, Kook━” You whimper. “M-More━ Wanna feel more━”

Jungkook takes that as a good sign and follows after Taehyung, rubbing circles into your clit slowly. He feels just how wet you are, his fingers coating with your cum as they move with ease past your folds, and it’s enough to let the wave of glee wash over him again.

“See? Look how much she loves it already,” Taehyung says. “Keep going.”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. As he rubs his fingers over your clit, his other hand comes up in a greedy fashion. He can’t stop himself from slipping a finger past your folds and it takes all you can not to moan out loud but you give up on the prospect of remaining quiet when it feels so good to have both boys on you.

“Let him know how you feel, baby,” Taehyung purs. “How he’s making you feel.”

You struggle to find your voice momentarily, too caught up with the lust and desire but then a cry of delight falls from your lips. “Fuck, ah, Jungkook! That feels s-so good━”

Jungkook’s head snaps up to look at you in pure disbelief.

“Holy shit, that’s so fucking hot,” he huffs. “I never thought you’d moan my name and now you’re so wet and tight and for me━”

“And me,” Taehyung admonishes offhandedly.

Jungkook doesn’t reply but that’s mostly because he’s suddenly fixated on curling his finger inside of you and watching your every reaction. Your hips jut forward and you cry out, panting at the blissful feeling but it isn’t enough. You need more, and you need more now. As if Taehyung can read your mind, he chimes in again, disrupting yours and Jungkook’s reverie.

“Why don’t you have a taste of her?” he asks. “You won’t regret it.”

Jungkook’s eyes light up and he watches as you nod eagerly, desperate pleas coming from your mouth. Jungkook lowers himself down between your thighs and you wait with bated breath before he’s licking a clean stripe against your folds with his flattened tongue. The sudden slippery warmth has your body writhing in pleasure.

“Jungkook━” You cry out. “Oh my god━”

Jungkook grins. Then he’s licking at you again, tasting your sweet succulence, and groans into your hot core.

“Shit,” Jungkook huffs. “You taste amazing.”

He nibbles down slightly on your clit without warning and tugs. You instantly jerk into his mouth, a strangled moan ripping from your throat that sounds something like a scold of his name and a desperate plea for more. “Jungkook!”

Taehyung snickers against your neck and you can feel Jungkook’s lips curl into a taunting smirk between your thighs. Jungkook’s finger still curls deep within you as his tongue returns to lapping at your clit and you can feel his nose brushing against you the deeper he burrows into you. Meanwhile, Taehyung is continuing to ravish your neck, his hands tweaking at your nipples. The onslaught of senses is so much for you that you nearly scream when Jungkook’s tongue dips into your heat so suddenly to accompany his finger. He laps at you hungrily and you gasp, your breath stuttering as your hands come down to tug hard in his raven locks, your hips bucking forward and into his mouth. It feels fantastic, too incredible for you to put into words, as you feel the wetness of his tongue lap at your walls and suddenly you’re aware of just how susceptible you are to both of the boys near you.

“Fuck, don’t stop, Jungkook,” You moan.

“Now who’s the needy one?” Jungkook coos against your cunt. “Gonna cum on my tongue?”

“P-Please━ Want it so badly, Kook━”

He smacks his lips against you, taking as much as he can of you into his mouth and sucking hard until all you hear are the lewd wet sounds of his tongue and finger working miracles against you. You’re clutching his hair so tight, pushing him closer into your heat but he doesn’t relent. One of his hands comes up to hold onto your waist, to push you firmly back onto Taehyung’s lap and closer into Jungkook’s mouth. You can feel Taehyung’s budding erection poking against your thigh and it’s enough to make you flustered once more.

In an attempt to help Taehyung, you find yourself grinding not only into Jungkook’s mouth but onto Taehyung’s lap, earning a growl into your neck. Taehyung’s free hand comes up to your chin which he grabs roughly. He forces you to look at him and then he’s smashing his lips onto yours in a heated fashion for an entirely ungraceful kiss. It’s needy and hot, completely open mouthed as your tongues mingle in the air and as Taehyung sucks on your lower lip. Yet you tear your gaze from Taehyung to look down at Jungkook as he buries himself further into your pussy, his nose nuzzling against your clit. You’re dripping by now and you can see your own juices smear onto his lips, dribble down to his chin, and it’s the hottest thing you could ever imagine seeing. He doesn’t seem to care as it spills down his neck and suddenly the mere sight has you squirming again. You part from Taehyung’s mouth with a wet pop that rings in your ears and moan.

“Fuck━ nghn, I━I━ think I’m close,” You whimper.

“Fuuck, yes,” Jungkook growls against you.

“Let it go, baby,” Taehyung hums, nibbling at your ear. “Cum for him, for us.”

Jungkook’s pace quickens, pumping his finger faster in you and sucking at your clit until you have no more strength to hold off. Your hands fumble in his hair, trying desperately to pull him closer, and you hate how badly you want your sweet release already. It doesn’t help when Taehyung twists your body ever so slightly so that he can lean down to your breasts and catch one of your nipples between his teeth. His tongue swishes back and forth against the perked bud and you whimper again, the coil in your stomach tightening and loosening.

You’re so close now and Jungkook can hear it, can feel it, can taste it. You don’t have much longer after that before your orgasm is hitting you hard.

“I’m gonna━” You reach out to grasp at Jungkook’s hair, tugging at the roots. “Fuck, Jungkook━”

You cry out suddenly, the coil in your stomach springing apart. Jungkook moans into your pussy as you cum, pulsating around his tongue and finger and dripping into his mouth. You’re reduced to nothing but a whimpering, writhing mess against Taehyung as you buck back and forth into Jungkook’s mouth to ride out your high. Taehyung pulls apart from you to rub circles into your hips and the seemingly gentle move somehow soothes the intense wave of pleasure into something much sweeter. Fire burns at your core and flicks outward until your whole body is warm and numb and then you collapse against Taehyung’s chest, panting hard. Jungkook drinks up every last bit of you and you begin to cringe at the oversensitivity before you gain some of your wits again. You push his head away hastily and this time he relents.

“Did all your little happy wet dreams finally come true, Jeon?” You snicker languidly.

The boy sits back on his knees and looks up at you, locking gazes with yours. You can finally see his face, his tousled black hair, his swollen red lips, and chin, all of which are covered in your perfect sheen. He licks at his lips and wipes at his chin and neck where his tongue can’t reach and he does all of this without breaking eye contact with you. A small smirk forms on his face and suddenly you’re filled with an intense need for payback.

“Yeah, you act confident now but you seemed to enjoy it when you were riding my face,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, about to reply before he adds, “So, you’re welcome.”

“You’re impossible,” You huff, pushing yourself off of Taehyung’s lap.

“Where do you think you’re going, baby?” Taehyung mewls behind you. “We still need you.”

“Oh, I know,” You quip. You reach down to grab onto Jungkook’s chin, forcing him to look up at you. “But it’s my turn, don’t you think, Tae?”

Taehyung chuckles and nods in agreement. Jungkook, however, hardly looks bothered, though he seems a little taken aback by your sudden assertiveness when you begin pulling him up to his feet before pushing him back onto the bed. Taehyung scoots over so that the three of you can fit comfortably on his bed and then you’re moving, crawling over to Jungkook on your hands and knees.

“Are you trying to intimidate me?” Jungkook asks. “Because this is sexier than it is scary.”

You’re hovering over his crotch when he speaks, your greedy hands reaching forward to brush against his hard dick straining in his jeans. He nearly jolts in his seat at the sudden touch and you and Taehyung giggle again.

“Mmm, baby, teach him a lesson,” Taehyung hums. “Suck him off nice and slow but don’t let him cum.”

“Not unless he begs for it,” You say wickedly.

Taehyung stifles a chuckle. “I told you she’s feisty, Jungkookie.”

The younger boy is eyeing you carefully as you busy yourself by undoing the belt buckle on his jeans. He acts unimpressed, unfazed, as you unbutton his jeans and began sliding them off his legs, but you can see the needy and impatient glint in his eyes. Your eyes fall immediately to the ever present straining bulge in his boxers and you gulp in response, licking your lips. You can’t help yourself when you reach out to brush your fingers faintly along his length. He jolts in his seat and grits his teeth, shooting you a hard glare.

“Are you seriously going to tease me?” Jungkook grumbles. “We can skip all of that, y’know━”

“It’s payback, Jeon,” You hum, running your fingers down his dick and then back up again. “Where’s the fun in it if I skip all of the teasing?”

“You know,” Taehyung murmurs from beside you. He’s reclining back, watching you with intense eyes and is completely shameless about his prominent erection contained by his boxers. “I’m surprised the idiot hasn’t referred to his dick yet as Jungcock.”

You giggle, an all too innocent and sweet sound for the way you’re palming at Jungkook’s dick. Jungkook, who is apparently having a rather difficult time keeping up with his surroundings while your fingers continue to work against him, scoffs. His eyebrows knit together as he throws a beady glare at the older boy.

“You’re ruining the mood,” he grunts.

Taehyung clicks his tongue against his teeth, a smirk tugging at his luscious lips. “Of course. I digress.”

You turn your attention back to Jungkook who’s staring down at your hand with parted lips and a crease in his brows. Without warning, you grasp him through his boxers and he groans suddenly, bucking forward. The desperation of his situation only seems to increase in severity when you peel back the elastic band of his boxers and slide them off his legs, finally freeing his dick which springs out from it’s confines. He’s much bigger than you expected, his tip angry and red, leaking with pearly beads that dribble down his length and the bulging veins that line it.

“You’re staring again,” Jungkook hums when he notices you pause, your eyes wide. “Sure you don’t like what you see?”

You shake yourself from your daze and frown. “Shut up.”

The boy starts to chuckle at your flustered expression but yelps when you clasp your fingers around the base of his cock. A beautiful moan falls from his lips and excites you even more. You start pumping him slowly, guiding your hands up and down his length in careful and measured motions, wiping your thumb across his tip each time you reach it. Jungkook shudders in your touch, his teeth coming down to gnaw hard on his lower lip. His eyes are glued to your hands working against him, his face scrunching up in pure euphoria.

“Mmm, fuck,” he grunts, his head lolling back. “Stop teasing me and go faster.”

You don’t listen. If anything, you slow your pace and it has him so frustrated that he lets an involuntary whimper escape him. He bucks into your clenched hand, practically begging for more but remains quiet, safe for his heavy panting.

“You heard her, Kook,” Taehyung says. “Beg for her.”

“There’s no way I’m begging,” Jungkook hisses through gritted teeth. “Never. I never have and never will.”

“Bullshit,” You scoff. You fondle at his balls with your other hand and he moans again. Your hand comes to a complete halt all of a sudden, interrupting Jungkook as he is about to speak. Before he can protest, you lean down and lick at his tip, swirling your tongue around him once to taste his saltiness. His hips rut forward into you but you pull back almost immediately and find Jungkook gaping. You meet his desperate eyes for a steady gaze. “Beg. Just once, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook’s stare wavers as you run your fingers along his tip, squeezing slightly. He tries to compose himself, to remain calm, but when you are relentless, he caves very easily. He only gives in when you kiss the base of his cock. And those eyes ━ fuck, the way your eyes turn so wide and already look so fucked out. How could he resist you?

“Fuck, fuck, okay,” he gasps. “I need more, baby, please. Ah, please━ You feel so fucking good.”

His needy pleas satisfy you and your lips curl into a devious grin. You lower yourself on him suddenly, licking a clean stripe up his length and he moans loudly. You enclose your mouth around his tip and suck, earning a small growl from him as he pushes his hips forward for more. In the next second, you sink your mouth down his length, taking as much of him as you can.

“Fuck!” he moans abruptly. “Ahh, shit, that feels amazing, baby.”

You hollow out your cheeks as you pull your head up and then back down, starting at an even pace that has him moaning and writhing beneath you. He feels much bigger in your mouth but you don’t mind even when he bucks himself into you unexpectedly and hits the back of your throat. The action makes you gag around him and, in return, he curses at the way it feels.

“K-Keep doing that,” he mumbles. “Please, fuck, just like that.”

His fingers thread in your hair and he pulls you down greedily on him but you don’t refuse.

“Can you do it, baby girl?” Taehyung questions. His hand finds his way on your back where he rubs gentle circles into your skin. “Can you take all of him in your mouth?”

You nod carefully around Jungkook’s hardened length.

“Good girl,” Taehyung smirks. “Go slow.”

You follow his orders, sinking gradually onto Jungkook until you feel the tip of him hitting the back of your throat. You gag once more but, instead of pulling back, you shut your eyes and take a few deep breaths in through your nose. In, out, in, out, and then you swallow. Jungkook’s reaction is sudden and intense. He bucks into your mouth unwillingly and moans even louder, his fingers clutching at your roots.

“That’s it, baby,” Taehyung hums and his sudden presence is comforting.

“A-Again,” Jungkook stammers. “Again, please━ holy shit, you feel amazing.”

You swallow again and then a third and each time you can feel yourself sinking lower onto him. Tears prickle at your eyes as your nose is suddenly pressed against his lower abdomen but his reactions are well worth it and so you continue.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung says, planting a chaste kiss against your shoulder. “You deserve some more attention, hm?”

His fingers slowly rub circles down your back, his lips following your arch and has you shivering beneath him, before stopping at the dip just above your ass. He’s kneeling behind you now, his fingers massaging into your thighs. You sigh against Jungkook when you feel Taehyung’s fingers continue their trek to your ass, rubbing you carefully. You, in response, push your hips back, waiting for more.

“You’re still so wet, baby,” Taehyung says. “I bet you’d come with one touch of my finger.”

With Jungkook buried hilt deep inside your mouth, you’re hardly prepared for when Taehyung slips his fingers underneath to your folds. It’s embarrassing to admit how right he is. You react instantly, moaning around Jungkook and jutting your hips back for more. The simple vibration has Jungkook groaning, his hips bucking forward. You hadn’t even been aware of just how wet you are before Taehyung pointed it out but then you can feel it, pulsing out of you and dripping down the top of your inner thighs.

“But you need more, don’t you?” Taehyung asks. “How about my cock? Will you let me fuck you, baby girl?”

You nod eagerly, the simple question exciting you even more. Taehyung chuckles and leans down to press a kiss to the arch of your back.

“But you’ll have to be good and keep pleasuring Jungkook too, okay?” Taehyung says.

You hum in response and swallow around Jungkook as if to tell both boys that you have no plans on stopping. Jungkook twitches inside you and scrunches his eyes shut.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” he grumbles. “Hurry up. Any time you touch her, she swallows. It feels so good.”

Taehyung snickers but he takes his time. He runs his fingers up and down your folds until you’re moaning needily against Jungkook. You look over your shoulder to see Taehyung’s fingers wrapped around his own hardened and pulsating erection, pumping himself a few times as he stares at you carefully. He positions himself behind you and takes the chance to run his tip and length along your folds. You whimper suddenly, hoping your desperate noises will spur him on.

“You want more, baby?” Taehyung asks.

You hum again, your voice muffled and hoarse.

“Okay,” he sighs. “Only because you’ve been so good.”

You have no time to brace yourself from the sudden impact of feelings. He doesn’t do much except for push himself into you, past your folds. It’s only just the tip and yet your heart jolts in your chest, the coil in your stomach tightens. It feels so good to finally have something of larger girth in you that you gap, simultaneously sinking down further onto Jungkook. The two boys grunt above you, both of them panting hard.

“You feel so good, baby,” Taehyung mumbles. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

He leans down to press a kiss against your shoulder, his other hand coming up to rest on the dip of your lower back to guide you. He slowly, so very slowly, pushes himself into you, inch by inch, so you can feel the way he stretches you open, feel the way he buries into you. Your leaking arousal only proves to be of an advantage, letting him easily push into you without any trouble. Your fingers grip the bed sheets beneath you in an ironclad grip and you squeak when he’s finally buried hilt deep within you. You nearly gag around Jungkook again, who’s still panting and writhing above you, but the way Taehyung’s tongue marks patterns into your shoulder comforts you. You whine against Jungkook, pushing your hips back for more and the simplicity of your action has Taehyung’s breath hitching in his throat.

“So warm,” he grunts and then sighs against your back. “You always feel so amazing.”

He still hasn’t moved and you’re beginning to grow impatient, distraught over the feeling of him rock hard inside you but unmoving. You debate pulling apart from Jungkook to yell at Taehyung but you assume he can understand your haste judging by the way your body writhes beneath him, your fingers clench into fists. He pulls out in one languid movement, his breath stuttering, until only his tip is left before he pushes himself back in, equally as slow. He sets at a steady, easy pace that, at the very least, lets you grasp onto some sensible thoughts and pushes you to keep pleasing Jungkook. Jungkook can’t take it anymore; he starts rutting his hips up into your mouth with gritted teeth. It’s a hot, erotic mess of mingled moans and groans but you never want it to stop ━ in fact, you want more.

“You like that, baby?” Taehyung grunts.

You nod hurriedly, humming in response.

“Ah, fuck━” Taehyung groans. “Want it harder?”

You nod once more, this time eagerly. When Taehyung pulls back one more time, he slams himself back into you without any warning and you jerk forward, sinking down onto Jungkook. The younger boy moans, his head lolling back as his fingers twisting in your hair. You don’t expect Taehyung to do the same thing again, pull out slowly and then push himself back in with more force, but he does, and he repeats the action again and again until he abandons it for a whole new pace. Soon, he’s thrusting into you hard and fast but always making sure his hips reconnect with yours before pulling out so you can feel him practically in your throat.

“Like being fucked like this?” Taehyung asks. “You like being used like a little slut?”

His thrusts are relentless suddenly, jerking your body and back and forth until he’s fucking you in a way that has you sucking off Jungkook just right so that you hardly have to put in any effort. Although his hard thrusts feel amazing, each time you’re pushed forward, you sink further down onto Jungkook unwillingly and that, paired with the way Jungkook frantically fucks himself into your mouth, you nearly gag each time as he hits the back of your throat, drool pooling at your lips and dribbling down your chin. Tears prick at your eyes from the feeling and it’s too pleasing to quit, to pull away from Jungkook just yet. Jungkook’s staring down at you when he notices your scrunched up face. You’re surprised when his hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing reassuringly into your cheekbone.

“You’re doing so━ ah, fuck━ so well, baby,” he rasps.

You can taste the saltiness of precum on the tip of your tongue and you wonder how close he is. You have no qualms in finishing him off then and there but soon the pleasure you’re receiving from Taehyung becomes too much. Soon, he’s hitting you at an angle that shakes something in you. You pull apart from Jungkook with a loud pop, saliva and cum coating his length and your lips, and a gasp wretches from your throat.

“Fuck!” You cry hoarsely. “Ah, T-Taehyung!”

You’re too weak to push yourself up and end up burying your head in Jungkook’s lower abdomen, feeling the heat consume you. You’re near numb, senseless, as you let Taehyung ravish your body, fuck you hard into the mattress and Jungkook. It’s a frantic build up, an intense wave of emotions that you seem to pass through, and you can hardly bring yourself to react. All you can hear is the sound of moaning and skin against skin and the heat seems to make its way up to your head, making you warm and fuzzy. Jungkook gently pulls at your face, lifting you up and bringing you to him so that he can smash his lips onto yours and all you can taste is bitter liquor, you, and him, but that doesn’t stop him from sucking on your lower lip even when you pull apart to moan and gasp.

“T-Tae,” You sob. “Fuck, Tae, I━I’m c━close━”

“Cum for me, baby girl,” he murmurs. “Let me hear you.”

You shake your head frantically at the sensitive sting between your legs still raw from your orgasm from Jungkook, shutting your eyes. Taehyung’s hands find their way onto your hips and he pulls you down his length until you’re balls deep and pauses. He lifts your hips and you can feel him twitch inside you that it even makes your own thighs tremble and shake. You’re sure you’ll collapse on him if he doesn’t hold onto you and he must realize this too because he grips your hips tight to continue thrusting into you. Soon you’re tumbling towards your high. Taehyung’s pumps are frantic, growing sloppy with each passing second, as he pushes you to yours and his high. The coil snaps in your stomach again and you’re in a moment of freefall where you’re stunned by the wave of pleasure. Then, Taehyung is bringing you back down to reality with his hard thrusts, the way he moans, and the lewd wet sounds of him pumping himself into you.

“Ah, T-Tae━” You whimper. “So good, fuck━”

His name falls from your lips in a repeated mantra. You crumble beneath him, collapsing entirely against Jungkook, who’s brushing your hair away from your face. You’re shaking with each touch, your walls pulsing around Taehyung and clenching hard. He moans and curses behind you and you know he must be close to his high because he, too, is fumbling for it. His thrusts are even more hasty and soon he’s reaching his climax. His moans increase in volume and his thrusts become sloppier until he finally pulls his cock from your walls and nearly collapses against your back.

With his hand clenched tightly around his shaft, he jerks himself off until he’s releasing onto your back in white hot spurts. He’s panting hard, sweat coating his forehead, but he takes the time to press chaste kisses along your back and shoulders as the two of you attempt to calm your shrill hearts. It’s silent in the room for a moment despite your panting breaths. Taehyung takes a moment to grab his discarded shirt and wipe at the mess he’s made before he collapses next to you at long last with a huff of air. You moan wearily, rolling off of Jungkook to lay on your back between the two.

“God, you’re amazing,” Taehyung sighs.

You giggle up at the boy and lean towards him to kiss. His fingers rake in your hair and a few silent seconds pass before you’re nearly back to an even breathing pace. That’s when you notice Jungkook, his hand gripped tightly around his still painfully hard dick.

“Jungkook,” You pur his name, catching his attention. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” he quips.

“It’s your turn,” Taehyung points out. Jungkook glances at Taehyung and then down at you, quirking an eyebrow.

“W-Well, I just thought━” Jungkook stammers. “I just thought you’ve had enough. It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“I call bullshit again,” You scoff.

“Baby girl,” Taehyung hums, “do you want Jungkookie to fuck you?”

You nod eagerly but Jungkook doesn’t seem too convinced, or maybe he’s hesitant. Taehyung’s eyeing him closely, curiously, before he gaps. He bursts out into a fit of chuckles, earning both yours and Jungkook’s attention.

“Shit, of course,” Taehyung grins. “He’s probably gonna let go the minute he’s in you. You’re close, hm?”

“Only because she’s already been down on me,” Jungkook grumbles.

“You know that’s not it,” Taehyung replies. “You’ve been wanting this forever.”

Jungkook’s eyes suddenly darken as he glares at the older boy. “Taehyung.”

“Wait, what?” You ask, turning to gawk at both.

“Jungkook has a little crush on you,” Taehyung smirks. “This is all he’s ever wanted. I bet he’ll bust a nut the second he fucks you and he’s embarrassed.”

You gasp as you turn to face Jungkook who looks entirely disgruntled but you’re more shocked about the fact that Jungkook likes you than anything else. Jungkook, notoriously arrogant fuckboy, who’s seemingly made it his mission to give you a headache every waking moment by trying to flirt with you. And maybe you’ve always sort of known it; maybe you’ve always sort of felt the same.

“That’s not true!” Jungkook protests. “I━I━ Well, Tae hardly finishes when he’s with another girl. He’s jacked off to the thought of you before, too━”

Taehyung starts. “Fuck off━”

You’re stuck between the bickering boys, staring up at both of them with a dumbfounded expression. Before either boy can strangle the other, you’re speaking up and interrupting them.

“I don’t mind,” You say. “I’m just… surprised.”

Both boys are silent now, aggravated probably, and you giggle. You reach up to rake your fingers in Taehyung’s hair and then look up at Jungkook, using your other hand to grab onto his chin once more and force him to face you.

“Come here, you idiot,” You drawl. “I want you to fuck me. Wanna feel your dick.”

Jungkook seems taken aback but then his eyes are sweeping down your body and he writhes in his seat. Before he can protest, you’re pulling him down onto you to kiss. It’s passionate and rough but hot altogether as your lips smack against one anothers. Jungkook’s desperate situation seems to hit him again, especially when you snake one of your hands down to his length and wrap your fingers around him to jerk him off. He pulls apart from you, gulping.

“Fuck, okay, okay,” he gasps. “I need to be in you right now, please.”

You and Taehyung smirk as Jungkook shifts around on the bed to kneel between your legs. He pauses, glancing up at you once more and noting the way you bite your lower lip seductively, before finally pushing himself in. He goes slow, but not as gradual as Taehyung. You can still feel him stretching you open and he groans. He seems to slide the rest of the way in with a lewd squelch sound because of just how wet you are and then he’s buried balls deep, fitting so snug within you.

“Holy shit,” he whines. “You weren’t kidding, Tae. She feels amazing.”

Taehyung hums in agreement. “What does she feel like? Let her know, Kookie.”

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut momentarily to focus. “Wet,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Warm, tight ━ fuck, so tight.”

He marvels at the feeling, wonders how you can still clench so tightly around him despite being stretched wide by Taehyung. He bows his head to rest in the crook of your neck and moans. His words are enough to spur on your own reaction and you whimper against him.

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook━”

The sensitivity you feel in your core met with his hard cock makes you cringe but simultaneously pleases you and you’re bucking your hips for more. He groans at the feeling, his hands flying down to grip your hips. He’s big, stretching you wide, but you feel anything but pain except for the sharp burning sensation as the intensity of your past orgasms start to hit you. He rolls his hips back and then thrusts into you so hard that you yelp and jerk back on the bed.

“Go easy on her, Jungkook,” Taehyung admonishes. “She’s not a doll.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook sighs, nipping at your throat. “You just feel so good, Y/N.”

“I’m okay,” You reassure. You feel his length twitch within you and your head lolls back. “Fuck, I feel more than okay.”

“Can we try something?” Taehyung asks.

He receives two weak nods in response. Jungkook pauses, shifts the two of you until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips, his dick never once slipping from your core. The older boy grabs onto you and yanks you onto his hips.

“What do you say we give Y/N the pleasure she deserves?” he asks. He pushes his length past your folds and is rewarded by the sound of your moans as your jaw unhinges. “Think you can handle both of us, baby?”

“Fuck, yes,” You gasp.

Jungkook seems just as enticed by this. He’s careful as he pushes his cock into you and your reaction is explosive. With Taehyung already stretching you wide, you wonder how Jungkook will fit but it’s snug and perfect. You can feel him stretching you further, inch by glorious inch, and he hasn’t even begun moving when your walls clench around the two of them. Taehyung hisses in your ear and Jungkook pauses at once, sputtering for air, giving you time to adjust. When Jungkook pushes himself further into your cunt, rubbing against Taehyung’s cock and your own walls, you can’t help the delicious moan that falls from your lips.

“Oh my god,” You whimper. “Fuck, fuck, that feels so fucking good━”

It’s such a sticky, hot mess, and all you can hear is the sound of guttural moans and grunts. You jut your hips forward, a silent plea for something more. Jungkook’s hand grasps at your ass and then he’s pulling out. He growls suddenly, thrusting his hips forward and the sensation suddenly overwhelms you. As he picks up a pace that leaves you breathless, Taehyung slowly thrusts into you and the pleasure becomes too much. Your hands reach out to grab at anything, fingers digging eagerly into Jungkook’s chest, Taehyung’s sides.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook grunts. His face is scrunched in pleasure and concentration, his mouth hanging open.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung growls. “You like being stretched wide like this, huh? Such a good girl too. Fuck━”

He’s sweating, but so are you, and all you can hear is the sound of yours and the boys’ moans, the vulgar wet slap with each thrust Jungkook makes. It’s only amplified with each small leisurely thrust Taehyung makes into your throbbing pussy, his dick rubbing against Jungkook’s with each thrust. Your walls tighten around Jungkook and Taehyung as the seconds pass and you know you’re already close to your third orgasm of the night but you try to hold off despite the room spinning. All you can do is lay there for Jungkook to ravish and control, for Taehyung to enjoy, too caught up in the moment. Your breasts bounce wildly with each thrust Jungkook makes and his gaze seems fixated on your chest before flickering down to watch himself disappear inside you each time. Taehyung is raking his fingers through your hair, soothing you through your next climax and it’s close.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses, panting hard. “I’m not gonna last.”

You push your hips forward as if to probe him on and he growls.

“No, shit, let me enjoy this, baby,” he whines. “Ah, so tight━”

He’s grumbling to himself, cursing under his breath and you smirk tiredly. Jungkook leans his head down to kiss at your chest, catching one of your nipples in his warm mouth. His tongue swishes back and forth over the perked bud and your chest arches into his face. Your fingers are clutching tight at his hair even as he obeys and adds more force with each thrust, slowly picking up his pace. His mouth widens and he sinks lower on your breast, humming against you in pleasure. Taehyung’s own pace quickens. It’s not as relentless as Jungkook’s but he makes sure to help aid you to your high, ramming his hips into yours until both their cocks slip into a seamless pattern. All you can focus on is the crude wetness, the way their dicks threaten to slip from your hold at how sloppy and wrecked your cunt becomes.

“Ah, yes,” You hiss. “Fuck, yes, yes━ So good, oh my god━ Right there━”

Your voice is cut off by a loud moan. You feel the familiar wave hit you once more and this time you hardly have any strength to fight it off or welcome it.

“I can’t━” You wail suddenly. “Fuck, I can’t━ I’m gonna cum━”

You’re fumbling for words to warn him that you’re close before you’re cuming around them. Their names wrench from your throat in no discernible pattern, accompanied by vulgar curses. Your body writhes between the two boys, your chest arching into his mouth, your legs tightening around Jungkook’s waist.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Jungkook coos. “Come on, wanna feel you cream all over us━”

Stars form behind your eyelids and explode into galaxies as they swirl down your spine and to the tip of your toes, making them and your fingers curl in delight. Your vision grows blurry and tears stream down your face at the build up of pressure finally being released for the third time and you can’t help it when your mantra turns into delighted sobs and whimpers. You’re clenched so tight that Jungkook feels as if he hardly has any space to move and the confinement of his length has him gasping. He pulls apart from your breast to watch your scrunched up face with hooded eyes. He moans again, and desperately leans down to suck at your jawline.

You’re too spent to keep up with him or Taehyung as he helps you further to your high but you know Jungkook is close when his thrusts become messy, quick spurts. You gasp each time he thrusts up into you until he’s finally cuming.

“Shit,” he hisses. “Gonna cum━ Gonna let us fill you up, baby?”

“Please, please, wanna feel it,” You mewl.

He slams his hips into yours and stills for a moment as he releases into you in one hot wave and emits a beautiful moan of your name. You’re panting hard even as he rides out both your highs with a few more incredibly sloppy pumps before he finally collapses against your chest. The two of you are struggling to catch your breaths, your heart beating in your ears.

The room is silent, blissful, and it takes you a few moments of basking in it before you’ve regained your breath. Your fingers rake in Jungkook’s soft and sweaty hair and you hum in content. His mouth presses a few open mouthed and hot kisses along your neck and jawline before connecting with your own mouth. This time, the kiss is chaste and you smile against his lips before he’s pulling out of you. You moan at the missing feeling of his warmth and the way his own cum leaks from your core, down Taehyung’s cock, and your own thighs.

But Taehyung isn’t done. He thrusts up into you to ride out his own high, pushing Jungkook’s release back into you. His pace is steady, deep, and all you can both do is moan and gasp for air.

“Fuck, Tae,” You rasp tiredly. “Cum for me, baby.”

The boy gasps for air, nearly fumbling behind you to reach his high. “Gonna make this pussy mine. Fuuck━”

When Taehyung finally reaches his own high, it’s in another sticky stream of hot cum, each fluid mingling with the other in a pitiful mess. He pulls his slackened length from you and you whimper at sudden the loss, core and legs aching. As you slide onto the bed between the two tired and breathless boys, Jungkook wipes at your glistening core with a shirt and you sigh in content.

“Why haven’t we done that before?” You gasp, earning a chuckle from both. Jungkook lets out a boisterous laugh and you flick his arm. “If you say anything dumb, we’re never having a round two.”

“Round two?” he asks, wriggling his brows. “You want this to happen again?”

You nod, though you can already start to feel yourself succumb to sleep as it creeps upon you. “What do you think, Tae?”

“I think,” The older boy hums, “that’s your best idea yet.”

Jungkook seems surprised, excited even, and you smile sleepily. Taehyung throws his arm over your waist and pulls your back to his chest, wrapping you in his arms as he slips off to sleep.

Before you fall asleep that night, you snake your arm up Jungkook’s chest and let your hand rest against his beating heart which you can still feel beating shrilly even long after your messy night together.

You awake to the familiar sound of your alarm.

It’s loud, annoying, and jolts you awake only to toss you into a haze of muddled confusion and an incredibly terrible hangover. Your head throbs and your body aches. Sunlight splashes in from the closed blinds and illuminates your face, making you squint.

“Turn that off, Jesus Christ, Y/N,” Taehyung snaps, his voice muffled and aggravated.

Your mind is too groggy to realize he’s sleeping next to you, too groggy to suddenly remember what happened the night before. Until, of course, you feel your limbs tangled with not only Taehyung’s but another’s. When you crane your neck to look, you see Jeon Jungkook splayed out beside you sleeping peacefully and you gasp.

The events of the night before suddenly flood your mind and everything is hazy up until your wild time with the two boys. Your muddled sober mind alerts your heart and suddenly it’s beating hard and fast in your chest as you register the situation. You’re used to waking up with a naked Taehyung by your side but never were you used to waking up next to a naked Taehyung and Jungkook.

Jungkook stirs in his sleep then and you curse silently, diving for your phone on the floor before realizing your drastic mistake. Your core is still tender and your legs feel so delicate, nearly caving in beneath you as you wobble precariously. Somehow, you manage to grab your phone and tap the snooze button hastily. Taehyung’s still half asleep on his side but Jungkook lays on his back and you’re surprised to see him looking up at you with a quirked eyebrow and a tiny smirk.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” You hiss. “Holy shit, that wasn’t a dream?”

You gnaw on your lower lip and reach down blindly to grab the nearest article of clothing on the floor (one of Taehyung’s shirts) to toss over your bare body. To soothe your aching muscles, you resort to kneeling on the edge of the bed.

“It wasn’t,” Taehyung murmurs.

“Nice to know you think our dicks are dream worthy though,” Jungkook snorts. “So when’s our round two?”

Your promise from the night before dawns on you all too suddenly and, though you feign your usual annoyance for both boys, the potential prospect of another night with the two of them thrills you to no end.

“I━ I━” You stammer.

“Come back here, baby,” Taehyung muses. “It’s too early to be up right now. You can sleep a bit longer before you pretend you hate the both of us.”

Your eyes flicker down to your phone to check the time: 6 a.m. You can barely walk, let alone function this early in the morning, even without the added stress of your hangover, and sleep seems far too appealing to ignore. Maybe you can stay for a few more hours…

“Fine,” You grumble. You crawl back between them and wiggle around until you’re laying back on the bed. “But you’re making me that cup of coffee when I wake up, Taehyung.”

“Anything else, princess?” Taehyung grins.

“Maybe run me a bath too,” You wince as you settle back against the bed. “Everything hurts.”

“Will do,” Jungkook says. “Gotta do the most to make sure we get that second round. Now, come here━”

The boys snicker and, soon, the three of you have slipped back into a peaceful slumber.

You know that when you wake you’ll profusely deny that the night before and the morning after had ever happened; that you’ll never again find yourself in either Jungkook’s or Taehyung’s bed, much less with the both of them at the same time ━ but you find that you never really listen much to rules anyway.

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husbandograveyard · 3 years

Text

Chapter II: The Stem

Chapter Summary: So, you’re interning with Hawks. And he’s even more perfect from up close. If only it weren’t so hard to actually get close.

Chapter Warnings: Pining, secondhand embarrassment, tiniest mention of blood.

Word Count: 2.5k

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Even though your love had been growing for a pretty long time, it was now in a deep slumber. Sometimes, to wake something up, a good shaking is needed. But sometimes, a single moment can be enough already.

In your hero training, you had learned very early on that nerves were not necessarily a bad thing. The adrenaline could be used to push yourself a little bit past your limits every time you felt your heart thumping in your chest and the blood rushing through your veins. Nervousness, much like fear, was just a bodily response to a situation, a way of your body telling you ‘Okay, we’re ready for whatever is coming’.

Only today you weren’t facing a villain, quite the opposite. You were literally about to meet your hero, and you were more nervous about it than you thought you would be.

It was still remotely quiet on the streets. It was way too early for most people to be out yet. You weren’t exactly sure as to why Hawks would let an intern start this early, but you had mentally chuckled at your own thought of Hawks being an early morning bird. Maybe that would be a perfect joke to crack to diffuse any nervous tension, or maybe that was a terrible idea. You didn’t even know if you would be able to speak properly the moment you’d come face to face to the man that you had been trying to meet again for such a long time.

You slipped your phone in your pocket after checking the time for the sixth time that morning. Being a little early was considered polite, being half an hour too early was not. You didn’t want to come across as a nervous over-achiever who couldn’t even read a clock properly, but you had to admit that you hadn’t been able to close an eye that night, and had decided to get up and get ready earlier than anticipated, thus arriving at Hawks’ agency building more than an hour early.

‘Time for another walk around the block’ you told yourself as you turned to the side to walk around the block once more. If anything, you were getting a good idea of what the general neighborhood around the agency looked like, something that could only help you if you were to patrol around the agency soon.

“L/n Y/n?”

You had barely taken a step to get started on your fourth walk for the morning when you heard a familiar yet strange voice call out your name. Your head whipped around to look at the source of the sound, only to see him standing there.

“Mr Hawks! Sir!” You stumbled over your words, scrambling to turn around and bow at the same time to greet your new mentor. You felt the blood rush through your face, your heartbeat loud and clear in your ears as you tried to hide your embarrassment for the words you just said and the fact that you had been idling in front of his agency for long enough to be noticed.

You heard him chuckle. You stood up straight again, only to see him dismissively wave his hand in front of him. “Oh please, none of those formalities. They make me feel incredibly old. Keigo is fine in here, just Hawks when we’re outside. We will be working together after all.”

You nodded eagerly, still a little shaken from the sudden confrontation. You were feeling starstruck, you were finally meeting your idol, your hero, but at the same time, there was still the familiarity of seeing the little boy from the hallway, all grown up. It gave you the weirdest feeling, a strange sense of déjà vu, a tingle that started in your stomach and then spread over your entire body. You couldn’t put a name on it, but it felt exciting.

“I’m sorry I am so early.”

“No worries, I have been here for a couple of hours already. Night shift.”

You nodded again and followed him as he walked inside, but not before pointing up at a point a little above the door you had been idling in front of earlier. “The cameras picked you up about an hour ago, I recognized you immediately.”

Your heart skipped a beat. He recognized you? Could it be that he remembered you? Even after all those years? The mere idea made you feel all warm and fuzzy.

“You really look exactly like the pictures on your resumé.”

Your heart dropped as Hawks continued to speak, he didn’t even notice your sudden lift and drop in mood. It was over before he could even face your way.

“Thought I’d come retrieve you and show you around before you were gone again walking around the block.”

You laughed nervously, apologetically. You were feeling like a fool. Of course he wouldn’t recognize you. It had been years. He had been trained, became famous. He had met so many people, seen so many faces. Of course he’d forget someone he knew when he was five? seven? Even you had a hard time pinpointing the age you had been and the memories played in over and over in your head like a broken record. For him, they were probably nothing more than a blur, something that had to be erased from his memory to make room for things that were so much more important.

Hawks showed you around the building. The agency didn’t employ a lot of people. “I am too fast for most sidekicks to keep up with, they’re more so a cleanup team than anything else.” There were a few offices: “The administrative team saves my life. They take over all the things that I simply don’t have the time for. But reports and such are important, they probably tell you that plenty at UA.”

You could only nod and try and remember as much as you could before the tour ended. There was only one other person in the building besides you and Hawks, because you were so early, and the people taking the day shift would arrive a little later. Most other employees had been sent home for the day, the night shift had been very uneventful Hawks had told you and he had added that it was how it should be.

He had shown you to a small office space, across the main office, where he sat. “Not often, because I rarely do my own paperwork. Most of what I do is patrols, the occasional actual hero work when crime happens and a whole lot of set work for magazines, commercials… those things.” That matched the image you had made up in your mind of him. He definitely didn’t seem like the type to waste away many hours behind a desk. None of the top pro heroes seemed the type to be honest, with a few exceptions like Nighteye maybe.

“Himari is the head of administration, she does most of my planning and such. I just check my phone calendar and she tells me where to be. You’ll spend quite a lot of time with her. You can wait in her office for now.”

You walked into the door that he held open, taking a seat across the neatly organized desk. You turned around in your seat as you noticed Hawks not following. “I’m going home for a quick nap, I have some shoots in the afternoon. Good luck Y/n.”

With that, he closed the door and left you alone in the office. You had a few moments of silence, a few minutes of rest before the internship would turn into actual work, and you made great use of them to calm down. Nearly an hour had passed since Hawks had picked you up at the entrance and showed you around the agency. Time had flown by, and it had been hard to focus within Hawk’s presence. He seemed so easygoing, so laid back. A lot of his hero persona seemed genuine, and you found this a very attractive trait. And truth be told, his personality wasn’t the only attractive thing.

You coughed to clear your throat and your own mind. You were here to grow as a hero. Surely, you had your ulterior motive of wanting to reconnect with your little childhood friend, but the more you thought about it now that you were here, the more that seemed like a bad idea. Your gut was contradicting your brain, because even the little contact just now was enough to make you crave more somehow.

Your thoughts were interrupted by someone entering the office you were sitting in. A beautiful looking young woman entered and approached you to shake your hand.

“You must be y/n, I’m Himari.”

You stood up, murmuring a “Nice to meet you” back as you shook her hand, a little disoriented from your thoughts being interrupted so suddenly.

“Welcome here. I will be your go-to for all your questions and concerns during your internship with Hawk’s agency. ”

“Thank you.”

“I am assuming you want to spend as much time as possible with Hawks himself, and while I will be doing my best to assign you things that will allow you to work with him, I must warn you… He is a bit of a loner when it comes to hero work. He’s too fast for most to keep up with.”

You nodded understandingly, Hawks was notorious for his speed and he had said it so himself earlier as well. You were still hoping there was some role left for you out in the field. You were by no means future top ten material, but you were definitely working hard enough to make a name for yourself in school. You were sure there were some ways in which you could even be useful to someone like Hawks.

Himari continued: “that being said. Would you be up for some media work? It’s all part of being a hero too, and Hawks doesn’t mind some company when he’s out on set.”

You blinked a couple times. While she was right, PR work was a lot of a pro’s job, you hadn’t even considered it being part of your internship. Especially not next to someone like Hawks.

“I don’t… I-”

Himari laughed. “Oh don’t worry, it’s not as bad as it seems. And it’ll be a great way to get your face out there for future job opportunities.”

You nodded, because she was right. There was nothing to lose if you’d do this, and it seemed like the best way to actually spend time with Hawks.

“You’re right, it’s a very good opportunity. I would like to try it out.”

She nodded and grabbed a pen, moving behind her desk to scribble some things down.

“Well… other than that I have a variety of work for you. Do you have something to write with? Because this might be a lot to take in all at once.”

You panicked a little. You had put a snack, some drinks and all the essentials in your bag to take with you, but pen and paper, something you’d never failed to bring to school, was something you now completely forgot to bring here. Your panic was only short lived when Himari slid a notebook and a pen across the desk for you to take. You mumbled a thanks as she started to list up all your possible tasks and what would be expected from you if they’d be assigned to you.

The list seemed endless and your hand was a little sore when she finally stopped talking and you had a vague idea of all the things they could possibly ask from you. Nothing your training at UA hadn’t prepared you for, and yet, seeing it all stacked up like this in a nice list made it seem a little overwhelming. The most disappointing part of it all was the amount of tasks you had put a little star next to: the things where you would actually be working together with Hawks.

The first couple of days you only ran into him sporadically, doing some patrols with another sidekick, filing reports, helping Himuri with contacting certain brands for advertising… Hawks stopped by your office twice to check up on you, and both those moments, you felt like you were on top of the world. Despite working very hard and most of the time not really doing the work you were hoping to do, the little moments you got to spend with him, where you were important enough to him to just come say hi to, made it all worth the hard work.

Today’s meeting had been especially motivating. He sat on your desk, telling you that he had heard great things about Himari of your work. You could only smile and thank him profusely, your heart racing the moment he smiled and winked at you. “Let’s hope you do just as well on set tomorrow.”

You choked on air while trying to form a response and coughed a couple times. The wink had activated a whole new level of butterflies and you felt almost embarrassed to admit that at this point, you were actually developing a crush on your mentor, your childhood friend, even though he had no idea who you are besides a hardworking intern. You knew you’d be accompanying him on a commercial shoot the next day, you had not expected to actually get involved in the shooting.

“I will do my best to not disappoint you si- I mean Hawks.”

He laughed. His eyes closed, shoulders shaking. A genuine laugh. It was a little loud, and with anyone else, you’d have thought it insincere. But from him, it was the best thing you’d heard in a while.

“No need to be nervous, I’ll help you through it. After all, it’s only natural that I’d actually do some mentor work, right?” He smiled again, and you could only nod, clearing your throat as you tried to get rid of an itch that had persisted after the coughing fit.

“I’ll leave you to your paperwork for now. I’ll see you tomorrow y/n.”

“I look forward to working with you tomorrow.”

“Oh and Y/n?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t be an hour early, if you sleep in, you’ll make life easier for the people doing the make-up.”

He chuckled, closing the door behind him as you looked down at your paper in embarrassment. You knew he was kidding, but still felt a little ashamed every time he referenced the hour you had been waiting at the front door when you just started. You wiped away a droplet of spittle that had flown from your mouth in the earlier coughing fit, grabbing a tissue to clean the tiny spot from your desk. You were shocked to see the little patch on your tissue was red.

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@cathy8taffy @kingdomseasalt @harley-the-cosplayer @silenceofthecookies @pinkhatlizzy @franko-pop-3000

#bnha #bnha x reader #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha hawks #mha #bnha reader insert #mha readerinsert #multichapter writing #multichapter reader insert #reader insert #hawks fluff #hawks angst

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

If you're still taking prompts, what about something where LXC discovered that JGY had altered the song of Clarity/Cleansing, before NMJ died? Is JGY able to convince him it was a misunderstanding, or does he realize the betrayal?

sequel to this

“This is the worst kidnapping ever,” Nie Huaisang moaned.

Lan Xichen had given up on not smiling about ten complaints ago. “You’re doing very well,” he said.

“I am not.”

“You got me to come with you to the Unclean Realm, didn’t you?”

“You’re the one that flew us here.”

“Well, I’m better at flying on a sword than you are. Still, you did get me here. Against my will, even.”

“You said you thought it was a bad idea,” Nie Huaisang said gloomily. “Twice. And then you stopped protesting.”

Lan Xichen shrugged. “I still think it’s more likely that you remembered the song wrong.”

“And I’m telling you that I am far too incompetent to accidentally come up with a variation that causes the exact opposite effect to what it’s meant to do,” Nie Huaisang said stubbornly. “We’ll go to the room and listen and then you’ll see.”

“But there’s no need to sneak around – we could just ask A-Yao to pay it for us, and we’ll be able to see –”

“No! This is my honor at stake here, er-ge. I’m telling you: if you’re there listening, there’s no way san-ge won’t worry about doing it perfectly right, and that means he won’t make any mistakes. You have to hear him when he’s not thinking about it.”

Lan Xichen’s hand was covering his mouth and had been ever since Nie Huaisang had said the word ‘honor’ which – fair. It wasn’t exactly Nie Huaisang’s concern the majority of the time.

Nie Huaisang only kept invoking it because every time he did, it made Lan Xichen giggle-snort in such an embarrassing way that he entirely forgot that he’d been opposed to this little trip.

Kidnapping.

Whatever. No one would ever believe he could successfully kidnap anyone, anyway, and they were probably right.

“Here, er-ge, come through this way,” he instructed Lan Xichen, pushing open a wall.

“Should you be showing this to me?” Lan Xichen asked, following him in. “It’s not a family secret, is it?”

“Only in the most technical of senses?” Nie Huaisang hazarded.

“Huaisang…”

“Listen, if da-ge ever wanted to actually keep a family secret, he just wouldn’t tell me about it,” Nie Huaisang pointed out. “It’s a good system, and it works for us both.”

Lan Xichen was quiet for a moment. “What if there was a secret you had to know,” he finally said. “And he didn’t have a choice but to tell you –”

Nie Huaisang didn’t want to talk about the saber spirits, if only because his brother was much happier thinking he was ignorant of the whole thing.

“Shhhh, we’re almost there. San-ge should be getting started right around this time –”

Sure enough, by the time they arrived, Jin Guangyao was halfway through the opening chords. Lan Xichen settled down in the chair that Nie Huaisang had brought for himself, head tilted to the side to better listen, a soft smile on his face.

That smile slowly faded as the song went on, even though they hadn’t even gotten to the relevant piece yet.

Nie Huaisang really wanted to know why, but he couldn’t ask without giving away their presence – something he’d overlooked. If only he’d brought paper and ink! Then they’d be able to pass notes.

Or possibly he should really give in to his brother’s urging and learn some hand-signs for communication purposes…

Jin Guangyao finally got to the part of the song Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen had been arguing about, and hah! Nie Huaisang had told him that he’d remembered correctly –

“Er-ge?” he asked, forgetting himself when Lan Xichen abruptly stood up and strode out of the room. “What –”

He ran after him, but he wasn’t fast enough to catch up before Lan Xichen burst into the room where Nie Mingjue was listening to the music.

“– are you doing, A-Yao?!” Lan Xichen was shouting. Actually shouting, which – wow. Lan Xichen never raised his voice; prior to this very moment, Nie Huaisang had honestly believed that his brother had laid claim to all three sworn brothers’ ability to speak at a high volume. “No spiritual power in the beneficial part, full power in the erroneous section –”

Jin Guangyao’s eyes were wide and frightened. “Er-ge, no, you don’t understand –”

“I don’t! A-Yao, why…?”

“I didn’t want to!” he shouted, his eyes darting quickly from side to side the way Nie Huaisang’s did when he was trying to come up with a good lie on the spot. “I didn’t – my father made me –”

“What exactly is going on?” Nie Mingjue said, rubbing his temples; he’d been meditating while listening to the music, and breaking the trance so abruptly had disoriented him. “And – Xichen. When did you even get here? And why are you here?”

Nie Huaisang stopped right before entering the door and abruptly reversed his steps as quickly as he could, even picking up his robes so he could better run away before –

“Huaisang!”

Shit.

Time to hide.

Nie Huaisang was never especially good at hiding; it wasn’t long before his brother had found him and picked him up by the collar – he felt and probably looked like a kitten being grabbed by the scruff of its neck – and dragged him back to the room, grumbling as he did.

Jin Guangyao was sobbing into Lan Xichen’s shoulder, and Lan Xichen looked upset.

“What happened?” Nie Huaisang asked.

“An excellent question,” Nie Mingjue said, and his face was black with anger, but that was pretty typical for him these days. “What was all that yelling about?”

Silence but for the sobbing.

“There was something wrong with the song,” Nie Huaisang volunteered, since no one else seemed like they were going to. “If you listen too closely, it has a negative effect rather than a positive effect. You see, I was eavesdropping and started coughing up blood –”

“You were what?! Have you –”

“The doctor said it’d be fine with some meditation!”

“Then you should go meditate!”

“Who says I haven’t?” Nie Huaisang protested, for which he got bodily lifted up and shaken like a disobedient puppy which…again, fair. “Okay, okay, I will, I will, I promise! But it doesn’t change the fact that he was trying to kill you!”

Nie Mingjue apparently hadn’t put that together yet and dropped Nie Huaisang like a sack of potatoes. “He was what?!”

“Not kill!” Jin Guangyao said immediately. “It was only supposed to disable you – to distract you –”

“Coughing up blood isn’t usually a symptom of distraction,” Nie Huaisang pointed out from the floor, a little skeptical.

Jin Guangyao wasn’t stupid – even when he’d been Meng Yao, he had always been very smart, very quick to pick things up, to put things together. How could he not know what would happen if he played music designed to destabilize instead of stabilize to a man already prone to qi deviations?

No, it was definitely a murder attempt. It might not have been much of one, but he was going to have to pay.

“You were using it to attack me?” Nie Mingjue asked, his voice low; anyone who didn’t know him might think he was bubbling over with anger – and he was, but to anyone who did know him it was clear that he was hurt. “After all the oaths we swore –”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Lan Xichen said.

Nie Mingjue snorted and turned his face away. “You always defend him.”

“I know that, but it’s different this time, I swear,” Lan Xichen said, and shook his head, his expression pained. “I believe him when he says he was acting under duress.”

“Er-ge…” Jin Guangyao said tearfully, his eyes starting to curve.

Nie Huaisang considered throwing his fan at him. Or possibly at Lan Xichen.

“But the consequences of his actions could have been serious, and that he did not consult us first – either of us – is indicative,” Lan Xichen continued, not looking at him. “Who knows what could have happened if I hadn’t listened to Huaisang’s wild story and even more wild idea of dragging me here?”

Nie Huaisang really wished Lan Xichen would stop giving him credit. Especially credit that might make his brother angry at his actions.

“The answer to that seems clear enough: he wouldn’t have repented even if I were in my grave,” Nie Mingjue said, crossing his arms; disappointment was writ large throughout his features. “Xichen –”

“You’re right, da-ge; and you’ve been right all along,” Lan Xichen said simply, and Jin Guangyao turned to him with an expression of shock. “Don’t look at me like that, A-Yao – we’re your sworn brothers. Even if your father was forcing you, you should never have lifted a hand against da-ge in violation of our oath.”

“But – I told you – my father threatened –”

“And I believe you, A-Yao, I do,” Lan Xichen said, sincerely, reaching out to put a hand on Jin Guangyao’s shoulder. “I’ve always believed you have reasons for everything you do, that the world has misunderstood you. But da-ge is right, too: I don’t know when or how, but somewhere you turned down a wrong path. Whether you thought what you were doing was justified or not, whatever reason there was to your actions, in the end you nearly killed da-ge..! That would have been unforgivable. For some things, it doesn’t matter what types of reasons you might have had.”

“I’m glad we agree on that,” Nie Mingjue said grimly.

“Da-ge swore to be your elder brother because he believed you needed instruction,” Lan Xichen said. “I thought he was being overly harsh with his assessment of you, but I realize now that he was right. We are your brothers; we will help you.”

“Help me how?” Jin Guangyao asked, his voice quavering. “What can the two of you do, one in Gusu and one in Qinghe, when I’m alone in Lanling and suffering? When my life is under threat, when my wife is under threat of even worse..? I have already accepted the name my father gave me, the position he has forced me into; I cannot disobey him without losing everything - what can I do?”

“It’s not what you can do, you – you idiot,” Nie Mingjue snapped. “We swore brotherhood. It’s what we can do.”

“We’ll need to consider the matter carefully,” Lan Xichen agreed. “Da-ge, come with me; I’ll play Clarity for you myself to help calm you, and then we will see about what must be done – both about A-Yao’s behavior, and about his father’s.”

Lan Xichen was probably the only person in the world who had the strength to pull open Nie Mingjue’s clenched fist, and the daring to do so; he led him away, still grumbling and shooting glares back towards where Jin Guangyao was standing.

Jin Guangyao in turn was left behind, gaping at the retreating backs of his two sworn brothers. In the end, he turned to look at Nie Huaisang as if he could offer some explanation.

“If you even think about doing anything to harm da-ge again, no matter what the reason, no matter how small, I will find your mother’s corpse and feed it to wild dogs,” Nie Huaisang told him with a bright smile. “And then you as well. In very small pieces. Are we clear?”

Jin Guangyao’s eyebrows went up, probably because he of all people could tell when Nie Huaisang was being serious, as he so rarely was.

His brother and er-ge might like Jin Guangyao enough to want to keep him around - Nie Huaisang couldn’t blame them, he rather liked the man too when he wasn’t trying to murder Nie Huaisang’s only living relative - but Nie Huaisang was going to make sure that he didn’t make the same mistake a second time.

He was going to make him pay - and then keep paying.

“Anyway, you’d better come with me to help me find my saber,” Nie Huaisang said, even though he really didn’t want to. “Da-ge will start yelling soon enough; he hates it when I don’t have it around when there’s a war on.”

“But the war is over,” Jin Guangyao said.

“The Sunshot Campaign is over, yes,” Nie Huaisang agreed. “But the Jin sect leader just tried to assassinate the Nie sect leader, after having forced his son to participate against his own sworn oaths...did you really not realize that your brothers would go to war for you?”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #lan xichen #jin guangyao #meng yao #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #in which jin guangyao's attempt to cover his own ass ends up starting a war #thanks jin guangyao #becomingatruelady

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callmemythicalminx · 4 years

Text

Into The Valley Of Death - Tommy Angelo x Reader (Angst)

Fandon: Mafia Definitive Edition

Warnings: Angst, major violence, blood, explicit descriptions of bodily harm, refrences to sexual assualt, kidnapping, explicit language.

Summary: The gang war in Lost Heaven is at it’s peak. In a twisted and cruel move against Salieri which sets the end of the conflict into motion, you are catalyst which pushes your family charging into the valley of death.

A/N: Please don’t read this if you are triggered by any of the warnings or feel you may not be able to handle what this fic has in store. It’s dark in many ways and I wouldn’t want anyone be affected phsyical or mentally, so please read with caution.

Dedicated to: @kaiiiiiiparkerismyhusband @lolita-wolfson@mayday1284 @xxsamanthaxx @kneelingforvillains@loutino20@levitate-gengar @dorothynerding @blackbladevika @my-blog-for-me @rammstein-obsession @octorebel @demonsouthere

---

Things are tense in Lost Heaven. This gang war is sending shockwaves through the city, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. Everyone you know is on edge, constantly looking over their shoulder and preparing for the worst. The men are stressed but try to stay immovable in the face of danger, the love for their family overpowering all fear. Yourself and the rest of the women are supporting them in any way you can. Together, you’re fighting against Morello, but you can tell the line is drawing thin. A catalyst to end this war is coming, you can feel it.

You’re all exhausted beyond measure. Late nights spent planning, shootouts in the streets and the losses of those held dear had taken their toll. This was especially evident in your husband- you don’t think you’ve ever seen Tommy this tired before. Being one of Salieri’s most trusted men meant he was constantly out, running jobs. Nowadays, you only ever see him when he comes home, late into the night. He can only muster up enough strength to give you a sweet kiss before collapsing into your arms and falling asleep beneath the covers of your bed. You always lie awake as he sleeps, absent-mindedly stroking his hair while you pray to every god imaginable that he’ll return home safe the next night, the one after, and every other for the rest of your lives.

As you stand in the bathroom of Salieri’s, looking at your pale, wet face in the mirror, you pray even now that he will return home to you. After drying your face and swirling your mouth out, you turn towards the toilet and flush down the remaining contents of what was in your stomach not five minutes ago. You sigh as your gaze slips down to your stomach again. In the dim bathroom light, you can barely see the small bump there. Your hands rise, caressing gently. It’s time to find out. If something happens to you… or him. You need to know for sure.

You leave the bathroom, thankful there’s no one around to ask why you were in there so long. As you make your way back to the meeting room, you pass Sarah who gives you a small sympathetic smile. She’d guessed weeks back after you’d thrown up while she was cooking that you might be pregnant. Not a day later, she’d booked you in for a test at the doctors across the road. You didn’t want to believe it, worried about bringing a child into the world during such a tense time. Somewhere deep inside though, you were excited at the thought of carrying a baby inside you… something beautiful that you and Tommy had created together.

You collect your purse from your desk, closing the account books and locking them away in the safe. You’d finish your work for today as soon as you got back from the doctors. After slipping on your coat, you leave through the back of the bar and head towards the gate around the side. One of the guards, Antonio, frantically runs over to you before you can open it, pushing his hand against it.

“I’m sorry Y/N, you can’t leave right now. We ain’t got anyone on hand to escort you.” This is another thing draining everyone. Straight from the Don himself, he ordered that anytime anyone left their home or the bar, they needed someone with them for protection. You appreciated it of course, but it was exhausting having someone follow you everywhere and you knew the soldiers were always tired too, having to look after themselves and an important family member at the same time. You smile at Antonio gently and place your hand on his arm.

“I’m only going across the road to the doctors, I don’t need an escort today.” At his unmoving expression, you sigh in frustration. “This is a very important appointment- I can’t miss it. You can just keep an eye on me from here, just stand near the gate and you’ll still be able to see me. Okay?” You can see the wheels turning in his head, his face twisting this way and that. Eventually, he must come to a decision as he quickly nods his head and reluctantly opens the gate slightly, enough for you to slip out.

“Just be quick.” You can hear the bite of fear in his voice, so you send a small reassuring smile his way, nodding, before quickly walking across the road into the clinic.

---

As you step out into the sunlight again, you stop and take a deep shuddering breath. Inside your chest, your heart still pounds, hyperactive with all the emotions flooding your body. You’re actually pregnant. You’re going to be a mother. And Tommy… he’s going to be a father. Tears form in the corner of your eyes, slipping down your cheeks before you can try to stop them. You’re overjoyed. Worried. Excited. Scared. You feel like a million questions are racing through your head, your thoughts a jumbled mess. All you can seem to fathom or even understand in the frenzy... is that you’re going to have a baby.

You’re too wrapped up in your happiness to notice the truck parked down the road drive closer. Your jumbled mind doesn’t recognise the men getting out as it slowly moves. The sight of the men in suits doesn’t register in your mind. Nor do the handguns in their hands. It’s only as the truck stops in front of you, blocking the sunlight, that your eyes focus. The glint of silver metal shines in the corner of your eye before a crippling pain explodes in your head and you fall to the ground.

Through a daze, you hear chaos erupt. You hear bullets, shouting, curses in Italian. Strong hands grab you and roughly pull you over their shoulder. You try to speak, to scream for help, but your mouth won’t open. Vision blurred, you can barely register moving onto the street, the gravel swirling beneath you. You feel the breath leave your lungs with an incredible force as you’re suddenly thrown into the truck, slamming against the hardwood. Your lips part to gasp, but no sound comes out. Like shooting stars, you see bullets fly through the material of the roof, hitting one of the goons in the head and narrowly missing another. They leave little holes of sunlight that catch the dust dancing in the air and the blood that sprays as another goon falls to his knees. You hear shouting and then suddenly you're moving, the truck speeding down the street leaving a trail of tire smoke and chaos. Distantly you think you can hear your name being called, but as you slip deeper into the abyss, you can only think of two things. Tommy. Our baby.

---

Tommy’s exhausted. He’s nearly falling asleep behind the wheel as he drives back to Salieri’s, Paulie near passed out beside him. It’d been a long day. The two had traveled early in the morning last night out of the city to one of Morello’s farms, awaiting the arrival of one of his most trusted associates. It was a simple job, all they needed to do was execute the guy and get out safe. But there’d been more soldiers than they anticipated and the target ended up escaping leading to a long car chase. Lack of sleep and general tiredness we’re barraging Tommy like a ton of bricks. All he wanted now was to just head home with you and fall asleep. He just desperately hoped you were already done with work.

As he pulls onto home turf, he’s relatively lax until he begins driving down the road leading to the bar. He spots the shattered glass on the street first, stained red with the blood of the men and women littered like flies across the gravel. When he notices some of the bodies wearing the uniform-like suits of his enemies, his foot slams on the break without a second thought. Paulie flies into the dashboard, yelling gibberish as he looks around disoriented for a few seconds until his eyes settle on Tommy’s pale face.

“What they hell was that?!” His best friend doesn’t answer though. Instead his hands frantically find the handle on the door, pushing it open quickly and jumping out into the street. Paulie looks at him confused for a second until he looks forward at the road, all colour draining from his face as he witnesses the carnage in front of him. He’s quick to follow his best pa as he runs towards the bar.

Tommy can barely think. Unfiltered thoughts are running rampant in his head, clouding his rationality. The only thing he can focus on is you. Checking your okay. Keeping you safe. He pumps his arms faster as he runs round the back and enters the bar, ignoring the guard’s shouts and Paulie’s frantic nonsensical questions to them.

When he bursts into the meeting room, effectively silencing everyone in there, his eyes only focus on one thing- finding you. As he scans every face, each one growing progressively more sympathetic and worried, he can barely stop himself from passing out. Finally, he lands on the final person in the room and it’s not you.

“Boss. I-I… Wh-Where is she?” His words sound surprisingly calm even to him. He can see Sarah walking closer to him, hands outstretched in comfort, feel the weight of Paulie at his back as he finally arrives. Still he can only focus on you.“Tom, I-”

“Where is she?!” There’s a pause. It lasts only a second, but it feels like a lifetime of agony.

“She’s been taken Tom.”

His breath rushes out his lungs. His knees buckle. All he can hear for a moment is his pounding heartbeat in his head. He can feel Sarah grab his arm, feel the weight of Paulie’s hand on his back. Sam appears out of the corner of his eye, his hand rising to rest on his shoulder. His family are around him, comforting him- but he feels nothing. Because you aren’t here.

He barely recognises the gruff, raspy sound of his own voice as he grates “Where?”

“Some of our boys followed them to the docks. We’re going to lay waste to it tonight. Trust me Tom, there won’t be a single recognisable man left alive in that building.” Salieri’s words strike through the fog clouding Tommy’s mind. He feels his blood boil, his heart pounding like a war drum. Tommy has never been an overly violent man. But just this once… just this once - He’s going to kill every one of them for hurting you.

---

Excruciating pain. It ricochets through your head, sears from your palms up your arms like red hot wildfire in your veins. Barely conscious, you flex your fingers in an attempt to escape the pain, the movement almost unrecognisable from the numbness that’s settled within your bones. Through slittled eyelids, you manage to look down. Two long, thin blades slice clean through the middle of your palm, impaling your hands to the sides of the wooden chair you’re sat in. Your blood gathers like a puddle at your feet, dripping down with maddening drops that echo around the small dark room. You can barely tell where you are, your vision too hazy to understand what’s around you.

A sob bubbles in the back of your throat before bursting out of your mouth, the noise grated from the dryness of your throat. You feel like you might puke when you notice your dress has been ripped down the front, your undergarments thankfully intact but pulled tight and misshapen against your skin- someone had looked at you while you were unconscious.

The small bump of your stomach, visible through the ripped fabric brings tears rushing out of your eyes, the pearly drops falling to drip down the slightly swollen skin.

“Ah! Our guest is awake!”

Your head snaps up at the sudden noise, the force sending your vision into a disoriented mess once again. Through the stars in your eyes, you can just about make out the stark white suit in the doorway of the room, almost blinding in the low light. As he walks to stand in front of you, behind him red shadows from what you can only guess is a fire swathe him in a red glow. He looks like a demon masquerading as an angel, the flames seemingly curling around him in the haze of your vision. You know immediately that the man in front of you is Morello.

Somehow, you muster up enough strength to spit at his feet.

In response, his palm strikes against your cheek, the pain wrenching a gasp from your lungs. He’s suddenly there right in front of your face, your eyes forced to take in the sneer engraved into his skin as he growls at you. “Show some fucking respect!”

You take in a shuddering breath, but continue looking into his eyes through the haze of your tears and pain.

“Fuck… You!” You manage to stutter out, refusing to let this coward scare you. Your smugness is only short lived as his fist flies into your stomach, the force hunching you over. Your hands pull at the blades and you scream at the burning pain as they dig deeper into your skin.

Morello laughs above you, turning to look behind him. You hear other laughter and guess you’ve got an audience of his goons with you as well.

“She’s all talk, no bite, ey boys?!” More laughter rings out, echoing in your head. You try to curl into yourself unconsciously, your legs trying to pull up, but they seem to be strapped to the legs of the chair. Almost hanging there, you hunch over limply, your hair now dangling down in front of your face. You can see Morello’s pristine white shoes swiftly turn back to you, the sudden action making you flinch.

One of his hands suddenly wraps around your hair, pulling it tightly around his fist. Before you can even comprehend what’s happening, he’s pulling you up by the stands, forcing a scream from your lips. Your hands rise with you, ever so slightly rising up the blades. By Morello’s scoff, he’s not happy enough with how little you’ve moved as he wrenches you higher, the blades ripping through your flesh so the handles are pressed against your skin. In the silence of the room, your sobs echo, barely recognisable to your own ears. You refuse to open your eyes and give him the satisfaction of seeing your tears, so you squeeze them shut tightly.

Morello growls again, his free hand striking against your cheek. You feel one of his rings cut clean through the skin, a scorching ache immediately settling deep into the skin. The slap forces your head unnaturally to the side, your hair and neck twisting painfully. It makes you yelp, gritting your teeth, but still you refuse to look at him. There’s silence for a few moments except for your heavy, shuddering breaths. Your ears become hyper aware, searching for any sound. They pick up the scruff of shoes coming towards you, the telltale sound of a blade being pulled from a sheath. When you feel the cold edge of the metal press against your stomach, your eyes fly open to see Morello’s face right in front of you, a smug look in the deep pits of his irises.

“We’re gonna have a nice chat dollface. If you are corporate, I might just let you live. If not… Well, let’s just say you and this baby won’t ever see daylight again.”

You try to nod against his hand, which tightens in your hair, not trusting your voice to say anything back to him. He smiles, an expression so vile and haunted, you feel sick at the sight of it.

“Good!” Without warning, he releases your hair, the strands falling through his fingers quickly as your body limply falls back in the seat. Your palms sink down the blades only half way, leaving them propped up unnaturally. Helplessly, your body twitches away from the pain, making it worse as you tug at the blades. You can see Morello’s smile deepen above you, his eyes darkening in the dim light with a hidden evil. Unconsciously, you shrink back from him as he shouts to the soldiers. “Hang her up boys. It’s time we get properly acquainted.”

---

“Jesus Christ Tom, would you stop fidgetin’, you’re shakin’ the car!”

Paulie’s words barely register in Tommy’s head. He hasn't been able to stop moving all day, constantly fiddling with his cigarettes or scanning over the maps of the city. By the time it came to leave, Sam stepped in to drive, knowing his friend was too distracted with fear to get them to the docks safely. But truth be told, they were all out of their minds with worry. Tommy’s leg was bouncing nonstop, his hand twitching every so often over the Lupara in his lap. Paulie hadn’t stopped talking since they’d got in the car, needing to fill the silence so he wasn’t just trapped with his thoughts. Sam was quiet and contemplating like usual, but as Tommy looked at him out of the corner of his eye, he could see his partner nervously tapping his fingers against the wheel, his mind a million miles away.

As they cross through the Works Quarter, the convoy of soldiers behind them sticking close, Tommy feels sweat bead on his brow just looking at their approaching location. He isn’t worried about the goons, he’d killed enough of them to know nothing was gonna stop him from getting to you. The thought of pickin’ such a big fight with Morello didn’t scare him either. No, he was only terrified of what’s happened to you.

All day, his mind has plagued him with images of his enemy’s victims, bloodied and beaten to a pulp. He couldn’t stop the thoughts of you flashing before his eyes, hurt and in pain. Just from thinking about it now, he can feel his heart nearly beating through his chest, his blood sizzling in his veins. God help anyone who gets in his way, because he wasn’t giving any mercy tonight.

“We’re here.” Sam’s voice cuts through Tommy’s thoughts. Immediately, the atmosphere in the car changes, determination and anger filling the air so quickly it nearly gives Tommy whiplash. Behind him, Paulie primes his gun, passing one to Sam who stares ahead, eyes focused.

Looking down, Tommy picks up his own gun, cocking the trigger. He feels the eyes of his closest friends on him, their hands both coming to rest on his arm.

“We doin’ this?” Paulie whispers. A deep shuddering breath. “Yeah.” And so they go... Into the valley of death.

---

You don’t know how much time has passed. As you drift between unconsciousness and awake, all you can do is look down at your stomach through the glaze of tears in your eyes. Morello was true to his word, not laying at hand on your baby. The same can’t be said for you.

Your arms are utterly destroyed, red raw from the damp ropes used to hang you from the celing. Tracks of blood streak from the holes in your palms like dark rain, now impaled once more in the wooden chair you first woke up in. You hunch limply, too exhausted to hold you weight.

After Morello’s soldiers had strung you up, your feet absent of shoes just slightly hanging above the floor, they’d left you alone for some time, just standing there watching you. Morello had sat to the side, smoking a cigar like it was the most normal thing in the world. He read the paper while you swung in the wind, whimpering every so often from the ache of the rope against your skin. The soldiers would laugh quietly, staring at your exposed flesh as you dangled there like a doll. You felt like a piece of meat.

Eventually, Morello put out his cigar and folded up his paper, throwing it on the table with a huff. He picked up knuckle dusters, slipping them on in full view of you and flexed his fingers with an expressionless face. After a beat, he looked up at you and smirked seeing the fear in your eyes.

For what must have been only an hour, yet felt like years, Morello played with your body like a rag doll. He’d asked you incomprehensible questions, growing furious when you didn’t know how to answer. Using those deadly brass knuckles he’d inflicted hit after hit on your face, just above your stomach, anywhere that wasn’t where your little baby grew. He grew tired of hitting you quickly, changing his weapon of choice to a long knife.

In long, drawn out strokes, he had traced it along your body, digging in deeper to leave long open wounds in areas he knew were most sensitive. As he traced you, Morello’s hand had eventually started following, touching you where only your husband had touched before. You’d tried to arch away from him, twisting in the rope, but it was no use. He touched you more… and laughed when you sobbed.

You desensitized yourself to the pain eventually, thinking of an old memory with Tommy with every slice and hit. When you first met and how nervous he was, nothing like the ladykillers Sam or Paulie are. You’re first kiss, under a starry sky after he’d taken you for a romantic meal. The night you gave yourself to him fully, awake till the early hours of the morning in his arms. Watching him sleep after a long day's work, holding you close, always protecting you. As you swung there, you’d imagined what Tommy was doing knowing you were missing. He was no doubt going crazy, you knew your entire family would be. It brought a smile to your blood stained lips to remember just how loved you were. Salieri, the father you never knew. Sam and Paulie, the brothers you always wanted. Sarah, the close sister you could always depend on. The family, an open armed hug of warmth, ready to keep you safe. And Tommy… the man you were lucky enough to call your husband.

It brought more tears to your eyes as you sat alone now, worried about the future. You couldn’t remember how you got back here, you’d blacked out eventually after hanging up for so long. You’d woken up not so long ago, your whole body numb and aching. Everytime you swallowed, you could taste the blood from the wounds on your face, providing little moisture to your dry mouth. Your face has to be swollen, your eyes no doubt black and bruised. It feels like you have weights attached to them, pulling down your eyelids. You begin to lose strength to keep them open and let them shut, focusing on your breathing to keep you awake.

In your mind, you travel back to a calmer time, when there was no war. You imagine sitting down at a table in the bar, gossiping with Sarah. The boys enter the room, Paulie and Sam noticing you first and coming towards you to leave kisses on your forehead. Then Tommy appears, smiling wide. He leans down and presses a gentle kiss on your lips, retreating slightly to command “Scootch”. You laugh, but get up, so he can take your place and pull you into his lap. His breath tickles your ear as he whispers your name. Only, when you really listen, he isn’t whispering at all. It sounds like he’s shouting actually.

You grow confused, your daydream evaporating like a pile of ash in the wind. But still you can hear Tommy, shouting your name.

“Y/N! Darlin’ where are you!”

Your eyes shoot open, looking around manically. There’s no one else in the room. For a second, you lose hope, guessing your mind is playing tricks on you. But then again. A shout, echoing and loud. You hear other voices, ones you know so well. “Y/N, where the hell are you?!” Paulie’s voice. You can hear Sam’s too, strong but panicked.

They’re here.

“Tommy...” You try to shout, but your voice is quiet, grated because of your dry mouth. You try again, but it barely echos around the room you're in now. Panic and hope sets in, pushing you to shout louder. You need them, you need Tommy to find you.

“Tommy!” You can’t say anything else, you just keep screaming his name. Through your shouting, you can hear the voices get closer, hear the worry in their voices. The sound of heavy footsteps against a wet floor gets closer and then suddenly the door of the room swings open, light blinding you for a second. But then a figure appears in the doorway, a body you recognise in an instant. On a sob, you breathlessly whimper “Tommy.”

He’s running towards you straight away, collapsing to his knees right in front of you. His hands reach up to your face, cupping you as gently as possible. You sob louder, tears running uncontrollably down your cheeks in red stained streams. Tommy catches some of them gently, his eyes filling up as he breathes heavily. You hear two other pairs of feet enter the room and stop short. You look up and see Sam and Paulie, mouths open in horror at the sight of you so broken. The former, a man you know to rarely show any emotion, actually sheds some tears, his gun dropping beside him.

Your eyes fall back to Tommy and you begin laughing lightly in relief through your tears. “You’re here… You found me…”

Tommy smiles yet his face is full of pain, hurting for you. “Yeah darlin’... W-we got ya.”

For a moment, you just stare into each other's eyes, lost in the feeling of being reunited. Relief that Tommy’s here. Relief that you’re alive. Sam appearing like a shadow at your husband’s back breaks you both from your reverie. You look up at him but his eyes are glued to your hands, his face emotionalness except for the tears leaking from his eyes. Paulie’s grief stricken face appears next to him, a small sob leaving his lips when he sees your hands too.

“Tom… We-we need to get her to the doc. Her ha-hands…” Sam barely gets the words out, breathing heavily. Tommy’s eyes move from your face, taking in the sight of your palms impaled on the blades. His face fills with anger, his teeth gritting violently. “Those bastards!”

Somehow they all move as one, Paulie going behind the chair and gently pulling you back so he can gently wrap his arms around your shoulders to keep you still. Sam and Tommy each move to a hand, their hands gripping the handles of the blades tightly. You know what’s going to happen, but you can’t help the look of fear that crosses your face at the thought of them being ripped out again. Your husband notices and a few more tears slip down from his eyes, dropping onto your hand when they slowly slip into the open wound.

“I’m so sorry for this darlin’.” Then together with Sam, he pulls out the blades. You scream, so loud and harshly, you see black for a second.

“We need to stop the bleedin’!” Sam’s shouting brings you back into consciousness. You open your eyes to see them quickly wrapping their belts around your hands, cloth from the shirts trapped beneath to stop the blood spurting out. They quickly move onto your legs after, untying them. Once they're free, Paulie’s hands slip from your neck and Tommy replaces them, his arms wrapping around you back after he takes off his long coat.

Slowly, with the help of Sam, he lifts you up, taking your weight as Paulie quickly wraps your husband’s coat around you. It’s oversized on you and envelops you like a warm hug, his scent calming you. You can barely stand up, so Tommy picks you up in his arms as soon as you’re covered, already heading for the door as he pulls you tight against his chest. Looking over his shoulder, you can see Sam and Paulie follow close behind, their faces worried and focused on you.

As you all leave the room, you can see now you’re in some kind of warehouse. You can also see the battle that your family have just had to fight to get to you. There are bodies littered everywhere. Thankfully, there’s more of Morello’s men than your family. Just before you leave the building, a body catches your eye. Though it’s not as blinding as it was before, you can still recognize Morello’s white suit which is now covered in ash, his body burnt and punctured with multiple bullets. It settles some peace in your heart knowing he won’t be able to hurt you or anyone else you care for anymore.

As you step outside into the night sky, the smell of the ocean assaults your scenes. You know immediately that you’re at the docks, not even 10 minutes away from the bar. Salieri’s soldiers are stood around everywhere, helping some injured men and celebrating the end of this war with those still standing. They all go silent when they see you cradled in Tommy’s arms, barely recognisable with all the blood, bruises and swelling. You hear Sam yell at them, only making out him telling them to “make tracks”, before your husband is climbing into the back of a car, keeping you clutched tightly in his arms. Paulie jumps into the passenger side, turning round almost immediately to check up on you.

“How ya doin’ Y/N? We’re gonna take you to the doc, just hang tight.” He passes Tommy a handkerchief as Sam gets into the driver's seat. He quickly stars the car and drives off, titling the mirror towards you to check you’re alright as well. It warms your heart to see your closest family so worried about you. You curl deeper into Tommy’s chest as he begins gently wiping away the blood around your lips, his breathing heavy and shuddering. Even in your weak state, you still ache to comfort him, you hand rising to stroke against his cheek. It’s a featherlike touch, leaving some residue of blood from the gaping wound in your palm, but your husband curls into your hand nonetheless, his face so full of pained relief.

“I’m gonna be okay Tommy. I gotta be for our ba-”

You slip into unconsciousness before you can finish, catching sight of his eyes widening in surprise before your own close fully.

---

You look so peaceful as you sleep. It’s something Tommy has noticed before, but as he sits beside you in the Doc’s home surgery, slowly brushing his fingers through the hair, it’s something he’s glad for after the horrors you’ve just been through. He still doesn’t know exactly what’s happened yet, but he can see just from the trauma that’s been inflicted on your body that it wasn’t easy. In that moment, he’s glad he was the one to kill Morello, painfully slow. He would’ve drawn it out more if he had the chance, but his instinct to find you was overpowering him.

He was right to be so worried. Tommy doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to get the sight of you in that godforsaken chair out of his head. The blood, the wounds, the sounds of your sobs- he shudders, shaking his head. As soon as the four of them had arrived at the Doc’s house, who was ready and waiting with a nurse for backup, it’d be a blur for Tommy. He’d stood helplessly at the foot of the surgical bed, watching the nurse clean you. With every cut and bruise that was revealed, he felt his heart grow tighter, his hands shaking uncontrollably. When the Doc moved onto your hands, announcing he’d have to do surgery on them to try and close the wounds, Tommy had nearly passed out. Sam and Paulie both had to drag him away, thrusting a bottle of whisky into his hands to settle his nerves.

For hours, they all sat together, silent except for the occasional sound of liquid sloshing in a bottle as one of them took a drink. The housemaid came in at one point, putting on some slow music to rid the space of the stifling silence. She left a bowl of water for them each with a cloth to wipe away the blood on the skin. Tommy didn’t move at first, too wrapped up in his thoughts. It wasn’t until Paulie pointed out the droplets of blood and the smudge you’d left after you’d caressed his cheek earlier that he finally moved to wash it away. Salieri had called at some point asking about you and the fate of Morello. It was a quick call, but the message was portrayed quickly. The crime boss had made you suffer, so the boys made sure the favour was returned. After that, they all returned back to silence, plagued with worry for you. Tommy was busy overthinking what you had said to him before you passed out. He was too scared to believe it to what his mind was telling him to be true. He wanted to know you were okay first… he needed it.

Finally, the Doc had come into the room, announcing that you would be alright. Your wounds were severe but with a lot of rest and luck, hopefully your body would heal. There would be scars of course, something that made the boys all hang their heads in sadness, but you were alive. And that’s all that mattered.

Tommy’s brought back to the present when he feels you tug slightly as his hand which tightly clutches your own. He leans closer to you, lightly whispering your name on a raspy breath.

“Y/N, darlin’. I’m here, open up those pretty eyes.” You tug harder at his hand, your face turning towards the sound of his voice. You slowly open them, as much as you can with the bruising and swelling. Your eyes find him immediately. Tommy smiles, laughing throatilty in relief. He leans down, placing a long kiss on your bandaged palm, smiling wider when your fingers flex against his face.

“Hi…” You whisper, your voice raspy. Tommy grabs a glass of water and helps you take small sips, supporting your head with his hand. Your eyes, though half shut, gaze at him with so much love, he feels his heart pound against his ribcage. After he’s placed the glass down, he hears you gasp quietly, his head whipping round to see if you're okay. He calms down when he sees you’ve just spotted Sam and Paulie, hunched together asleep on the couch. It looks quite humorous as the former lies head back, collapsed essentially between the pillows. Paulie lies with his head against Sam’s arms, his mouth opening dribbling onto Sam’s expensive suit.

“They stayed?” Tommy can hear the tears in your voice, the love you have for your chosen brothers seeping into the words. He squeezes your fingers gently instead of your hand, cautious of hurting you more. Your head swings back to his and you smile at him, tears slipping down your cheeks. “You stayed?”

He huffs as if it’s the most silly question in the world. Tommy holds your hand against his cheek as he rasps “Course we stayed- we ain’t goin’ anywhere darling. We were so worried ‘bout you, we ain’t gonna leave you for years at this rate.” You laugh lightly, the sound like music to his ears.

“I don’t know what that bastard did to ya. If you don’t ever want to tell me, that’s fine too. But know this darlin’- I ain’t goin’ anywhere. You’re my girl, this all happened just because your mine. So I’m gonna love you hard for the rest of my life, because I nearly lost you today… and I ain’t gonna waste a minute more. Not with you… or our kid.”

You let out a sob at his words, tears falling harder now as his hand moves to your stomach rubbing gently.

“I-I was gonna tell you t-today. Tommy, I was leavin’ the doctors when they took me. I’d just found out, I-”

“I know, darlin’, I know. I should’a been there with you. I’m here with you now though. And I ain’t ever leavin’ you again. No one’s gonna hurt my family anymore.” He places a kiss on your palm again, moving to your stomach to gently place one there too. Your free hand slowly moves to his hair, stroking through it slightly just like you do every night.

“Come to bed Tommy. We both need some rest.” He can’t resist you. After taking off his shoes and leaving his jacket draped over a chair, he climbs in beside you, carefully maneuvering himself so he can take you into his arms. For once, he’s gonna be the one to stroke your hair as you fall asleep, praying to every god to keep you safe. As his eyes begin to shut and he slips deep into his own slumber, his hand pressed against your stomach, he dreams only of his family and the home you’re both gonna create.

-----

A/N: Thanks for reading minxies. Sorry the ending is kinda meh. I really hoped you’ve all enjoyed though, I feel like this is one of the best things I’ve ever written.

(Unedited)

#mafia 1 #mafia #mafia remake #mafia definitive edition #tommy angelo #tommy angelo x reader #TommyHoes #sam trapani #paulie lombardo #writtenbyme

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ayamari-no-goshi · 4 years

Text

Verboten 15 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary: AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things

Parings: Danny/Sam

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances

Chapter 15

It took almost twenty minutes for Danny’s mom to finish her tirade against the police. Watching her flip out on the officers was almost therapeutic, and by the time she was done, he was more amused then terrified. It made the actual interview much easier.

The police were initially skeptical, especially since his dad took the lead on explaining what happened. His childish excitement at getting to chase something made it sound like some made up fantasy, but that changed when Vlad gave his account. With his reputation, they were forced to take it seriously.

The older of the two officers, O’Brian, took the statements as his partner, Kiziah, reviewed the scene for any clues or evidence of how the creature got in the house. Other police offers were on the way to do a proper investigation.

“You’re the one that reported that murder… That was just, I guess it’s two days ago now,” O’Brian mentioned as he glanced at Danny, who nodded. “We chalked up the weirdness of your original statement due to shock, but if you’re telling me this thing is the same perp, I have no idea what we have on our hands.”

“I… I don’t really know if it was the same thing or not, but it looked like it.”

The officer frowned as his partner returned. “No obvious sign of a break in,” Kiziah stated, “but I don’t want to touch anything without an evidence kit. There’s definitely a weird substance in the living room and near the front door that will need analyzed.”

“You didn’t hear anything?” O’Brian looked back towards Danny and his parents.

“To be honest, our family tends to be heavy sleepers,” his mother explained as she gave him a sheepish grin. “Jack can sleep through almost anything, and I tend to wear earplugs.”

“And I am of the opposite,” Vlad stated as he made himself a cup of tea. “However, it wasn’t until I heard Daniel sprint up the stairs and bang on his parents’ door that I awoke.”

“Sorry about that.” Danny winced at he glanced at the man. Vlad didn’t seem as creepy as he had the previous day, but something still seemed off about him.

The man gave him a dismissive wave. “No worries, my dear boy. I believe your actions were more than understandable given the circumstances.”

“Err… I guess you want me to say if I heard anything?” Danny shook his head as the officers stared at him. “I didn’t. It… it was just a feeling, you know? Like when you get a sudden chill.” That statement was true enough. He figured it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to state the more paranormal aspect of it. “I thought I was just being paranoid until I looked down the stairs and that… that thing stared back at me.”

An awkward silence fell as O’Brian took some more notes. It was only broken when Kiziah received some sort of notification and moved to let the investigation team in. They quickly went to work examining the scene and looking for anything out of the ordinary. While they worked, an older man with a scar down the right side of his face took O’Brian and Kiziah aside and spoke with them. Once they finished, the older officer approached Danny and his family.

“I’m Lieutenant Metzger, and I’ve recently been put in charge of the investigation of the recent murders in the city. You’ve probably heard the rumors this is a serial case. Well, that’s true.” A muscle moved in the man’s cheek as he seemed to debate with himself over how much he could tell them. “Due to some of the details, we were under the impression these were ritualistic in nature and called in the FBI for some help.” He sighed before asking, “Is it okay if I sit?”

“Sure,” Danny’s mother shared a confused look with her husband before she asked the officer if he needed some coffee.

When he agreed, he waited until there was a cup in front of him to continue. “Look, I don’t want this being leaked. We don’t need people thinking the police force is wasting money on chasing fairy tales.” Once the Fenton family agreed, he continued, “You aren’t the first one to report something not quite human around the time of the incidences. Due to shock and figuring it was some sort of disguise, we originally disregarded that. However,” he glanced around before he leaned in, “one of my own officers gave a report earlier this week of glancing something inhuman. It actually attacked his patrol car before it vanished. On top of that, I don’t think whatever that thing spilled on your carpet has any sort of mundane explanation behind it.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes, “Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, I’m going to be frank with you. I would like to contract you for some sort of weapon for this thing. From previous experiences, I’m fully aware your… experiments don’t tend to do harm to people, so if… by the off chance, this isn’t something normal, we’ll have a way to stop it.”

Danny’s father immediately lit up in excitement. After rambling some idea, he ran down to the lab to act upon it before anyone could stop him.

“Don’t mind him,” his mother fondly chuckled. “Jack is very enthusiastic about our work.”

“I… uh… take that you’re willing to help us?”

“Oh, absolutely. If this thing is what we think it might possibly be, we were going to do that anyways. But I do need to ask you something. You mentioned you thought the attacks were ritual in nature. I’m not really sure how to ask this, but for those poor people, was there a part of the body missing?”

Metzger’s shoulders tensed at her question as his eyes narrowed. “How did you know about that?”

“Wait… wait, you’re telling me… that thing… what it was holding in its hand…” Danny couldn’t say it. The memory of the blood dripping from that thing’s hand temporarily overwhelmed him. He must have swayed as his mother gently put a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. If you decide to go help your father, I think he’d gladly welcome the help.”

Danny shook his head at the suggestion. He needed to stay put. It just felt safer with her and the officers around. She must have somehow understood as she gave his shoulder a motherly squeeze.

“You didn’t answer my question.” An irritated edge crept into Metzger’s voice.

His mother calmly turned back to him and returned his gaze. “I didn’t until just now. After Danny relayed his story, it struck a chord with me, and I did some digging. There is folklore in different parts of the US which tells of creatures who steal the life of humans and often a part of the body. If… if that’s what’s happening, then we’re in trouble.”

“What do you think this thing is doing?”

“Nothing good. Throughout history, humankind has offered up blood and other bodily sacrifices to gods, spirits, monsters, and everything in between. While usually the Aztecs come to mind, you can find evidence of this around the world. It’s believed those sacrifices would either strengthen or appease whichever entity was the focus.”

“Maddie, are you suggesting this thing is doing something similar?”

She nodded. “I… We aren’t sure if this thing is trying to strengthen itself or if it’s taking its gains to something else.”

A different memory surfaced in Danny’s mind. “That… when we were being rescued… the… the person that helped us get back… he said the A-listers got targeted for their blood,” he stammered before he could stop himself.

Everyone in the room stared at him. He and his friends really hadn’t talked about Frostbite. They mentioned to the police they thought someone helped them, but purposely left it vague. With how disoriented they were when they were found, the police were under the impression the trauma obscured some of their memories. Well, the cat was out of the bag.

Matzger stared at him. “Are you telling me what happened to your classmates may be related to… to this thing?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? Like I told my mom before you came, the person who grabbed me and my friends isn’t the same… whatever that thing is. But, I don’t know what Dash and them encountered after we got separated.”

“Hmm… what about the person who helped you?”

Danny shook his head. “Not the same person. He called himself Frostbite, and…” How could he even explain Frostbite? He was a ghostly yeti with an ice arm for God’s sake! “I didn’t think he was real,” he eventually stated as he glanced down at his hands. “He was so friendly and helpful. He was so much different than that thing.”

“Honey, you never really talked about this Frostbite person before.” His mother tried to reach out for his hand, but he pulled away.

“I… I thought he was a dream or hallucination or something for a while.” He hoped he sounded sincere. It was somewhat true after all. The fantastical nature of what happen still didn’t seem real to him, but he knew better. “I think he had helpers… there were other voices besides his.”

“That would line up with some of the evidence we have from your case,” Matzger stated as he rubbed his chin. “The injuries of you and your two friends were vastly different than the others who went missing which suggested multiple perpetrators. One of the other boys did mention that he thought they were rescued by a small group of people. I will have to take a closer look at the injuries of your classmates to determine whether or not they match up with our current victims. That should give us an idea if it’s the same thing or something different.”

“Sir,” officer Kiziah interrupted, “we’ve finished our initial sweep. We did have some trouble trying to keep Mr. Fenton out of the way in the basement area, but he’s promised to stay at the one table while we work. He’s apparently drafting some blueprints. Forensics is here and are working on collecting evidence. They’re hoping to talk to you.”

He sighed. “Thank you, Kiziah. Can you explain to them their options during our investigation progress?” After flashing them an apologetic smile which seemed out of place with his features, he told them he would be in touch and excused himself.

After shaking his head at his superior, Kiziah stated while the family could stay in the house during the investigation process, it had the possibility of accidentally contaminating evidence. He recommended for them to stay at a local hotel for a time.

Although his mother seemed hesitant to leave the house, she eventually agreed to head to a hotel after Vlad made a show of being concerned for the family’s safety. It took a bit of time to get his dad to leave the basement, but by the time seven am hit, Danny found himself in the best hotel in Amity Park, per Vlad’s firm recommendations.

After sending his friends a few texts to let them know what happened, that he was fine, and where he was, he told them he’d call them after he got some sleep. Although he wasn’t exactly happy he shared the room with Vlad, the pristine bed ended up being far more important to him than any worries.

…..

Several hours later, Danny woke up to one hundred and three texts, fifty-four missed calls, and eleven voicemails. Sam and Tucker had only one voicemail and call apiece and only a handful of texts. The rest were from his sister. Groaning, he sent Sam and Tucker messages to let them know he’d call them after he contacted his sister.

He really didn’t want to talk to Jazz at the moment. When she was scared, she became spastic, and a spastic Jazz was the last thing he wanted to deal with at the moment. Okay, the third to last think he wanted to deal with. The creepy thing and Plasmius took the top two places.

After taking several minutes to do everything other than call his sister, he finally buckled down and called her. As predicted, she spastically demanded to know if he was okay while berating him for not contacting her sooner. He just let her talk while making the occasional ‘uh huh’, ‘sorry,’ and ‘yeah.’ From experience, he knew it was better to let her get it out of her system.

He put Jazz on speaker while he attempted to find the hotel’s TV remote. Vlad didn’t seem to be in the room which really didn’t bother him. The man didn’t need to listen to Jazz flipping out after all. Eventually, he found the remote next to a message from Vlad stating he and his parents went to discuss something with the police and would be back with food.

“Danny, are you even listening to me?” Jazz demanded. He must have been quiet for too long.

“Uh? Yeah, I just happened to find a note Vlad left. You were saying something about how it was irresponsible for Dad to go running after the thing?”

“Wait, are you telling me you were left alone after everything that happened?”

“Jazz, I’m seventeen. I think I’m perfectly fine being alone for a few hours.”

“You were kidnapped by a crazy man and then were attacked in your own home! Do you really think it’s safe for you to be alone right now?” With that, she flew into a different tirade.

Knowing it would be a while, he decided the TV would be a preferable alternative to his upset sister. He turned it on only to have it immediately turn off. Thinking he accidentally doubled clicked the button, he tried again only to have the same result. Thinking the remote was damaged, he moved to try the button on the machine. Only, it turned on by itself. It and the lights began to dim and flicker, and his breath began to mist.

Glancing around, he watched as a girl emerged from the wall. At first, it seemed she didn’t notice him as she moved towards the opposite wall, but she stopped midway and faced him. She looked human but her entire body seemed insubstantial and almost wispy. Her skin, if it could be called that, was an unearthly white while her blue hair flickered like a flame.

She smirked at him while moving a little closer. “You shouldn’t be here, Baby Pop.” Her sultry and musical voice seemed far away, almost as if it was being broadcasted over an old radio. “Don’t know what you’re doing on this side of the veil, but you shouldn’t stay here.”

“What… what are you talking about? Who are you?” he stammered while vaguely registering Jazz asking him what was wrong.

“I like to slip to this side for some fun, but I might stick around a little longer this time. It’s already chaotic here, and a little more might do me some good. Besides, it seems I need to make a few people remember I still exist.” After appraising him, she gave another smile and headed back towards the wall. “You might want to get out while you can, Baby Pop. Things might get a little hot, and you new guys often aren’t strong enough to deal with the heat.”

“Hey, wait!” He tried to get her to stop, but she just vanished back into the wall. Unsure what to do, he stood in the center of the room dumbfounded until he realized his phone was still on speaker and his sister was calling for him.

“Hey, Jazz, I’m going to have to call you back,” he stated as he moved towards the door. “Something really weird just happened.” He hung up on her as he ran into the hallway looking for some evidence of the ghost.

He barely made it to the elevators when the fire alarm sounded. Not wanting to stick around, he quickly found the stairs and made his way to the lobby as the rest of the guests started to follow suit. By the time he reached the third floor, he began to smell smoke. There had to be a fire. Is that what that ghost meant? Did she somehow set it?

He really hoped that wasn’t the case. He really only needed on potentially supernatural thing causing problems in his life at a time.

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dastardlydandelion · 3 years

Note

I wish you would write a fic where Billy protects Max from Neil. And then Susan protects them both... by whatever means necessary.

u guys keep guessing what's gonna be in the abcs!! that is a thing that happens!! but since this is a scenario with a v wide range of possibilities, i'll give u a few other versions of it that i will not actually be writing.

under the cut bc one has downer ending. 😢

1) happens back in cali. max broke the brand new tv on accident. max is like ten here and until this point neil hasn't escalated to physical abuse with her but the television was expensive and susan isn't home rn, which also emboldens him. so he totally explodes on her. grabs her really hard and holds her in a vise grip. beats her with the remote control while the tubes in the tv continue quietly crackling n fizzling.

billy hears max cry out and comes running. throws himself at neil. then neil's attention shifts his way. susan arrives unexpectedly early. enters to the sight of neil kicking billy into the wall while max is on the floor, blood trickling around the bridge of her nose and bruises forming. it's clear what's happened. susan knows asking neil to stop won't make him stop (she's tried) so she grabs the letter opener off the glass coffee table, stabs it into his throat from behind.

neil turns so suddenly and forcefully, susan loses her grip. he rips the letter opener outta his neck, screaming and cursing up a storm at her. there's nowhere for her to retreat before he slams her head into the wall. hard. she's stumbling, disoriented, can't dodge fast enough with the double vision before neil's stabbing her once, twice, three times with the letter opener.

for a moment both kids are just frozen. billy moves a lil faster bc the situation is somewhat less shocking to him since he witnessed neil's violence toward his own mom. scrambles to his feet. bodily rams into neil hard enough to get him away. but susan's just gushing, sundress soaked. her descent is a clumsy one, flailing hands and crablike, disoriented drunkard steps. the coffee table explodes into hundreds of crystalline shards when she collapse onto it. susan makes a wretched noise when she chokes on her own blood that's going to haunt max until the day she's elderly and demented, and no longer truly remembers where it came from, this horrible echo in every fractured nightmare.

neil has just enough time to take in what he's done before he's swaying too, drops to his knees. he's been bleeding since he pulled the letter opener out. just didn't notice. too enraged. succumbs to his wound a couple minutes after susan.

max gets returned to her father. billy goes into the system when authorities fail to locate his mom.

2) max steals from neil's wallet in an attempt to run away from home. they're in hawkins now but it's p fresh after the move, she's thirteen. neil punches her in the face twice. billy walks thru the front door in between the blows. isn't fast enough to stop the second one from landing and knocking her out cold. she drops like a stone. billy's so pissed he actually goes at neil for the v first time in his life.

popular headcanon of neil being former military is true to this 'verse. i've seen this mainly used in reference to explain some of the psychology behind his abuse of billy, but uh...it also makes him so much more dangerous?? do ppl generally not acknowledge that part or do i just miss it bc i don't actually go here??

that means combat training, including weapons training, likelihood of weapons ownership, a propensity to maintain fitness. that, uh. that'd defo make neil extra dangerous...

but okay, anyway, so billy's athletic and big enough that he actually prolly has raw strength > neil. but neil, maintaining combat fitness in this scenario, has roughly equivalent functional strength. also combat training means he's maximizing his strikes as far as placement/precision/timing goes. raw power and bull-in-china-shop-rage gets billy p far but. not far enough. neil chokes him out. proceeds to keep beating him after he's unconscious bc he's just that pissed billy even dared to come at him like that. kicks him in the ribs until he hears a crack or two.

by the time susan gets home, max is nauseous from being concussed and her eggplant purple eye's so puffy it can only open a needle slit. billy can barely move, like the tinman in the wizard of oz before the oil can. neil's got a bruise on his chin where billy landed an uppercut. internally susan is sick to her stomach and screaming but externally, she lowers her eyes to the floor and informs everyone she's going to do a bit of gardening while the sun is still out but not to worry bc she'll still have dinner ready on time.

even thru the concussion fog, max feels pissed and betrayed. this is exactly why she wanted to run away. she stomps to her room, fuming and burning to throw and break everything, except that would make a ruckus. that would get neil's attention. she cannot afford the bad side of neil's attention twice in one day.

what max doesn't realize is that susan has white snakeroot and water hemlock in her garden. it's vegetable curry for dinner, but neil's bowl is a tad different than everyone else's...

3) max reaches out to the police one night when she can't take it anymore. wondering who's hitting the floor on the other side of the wall, her mother or her brother. walking on eggshells when she wants to run, whispering when she wants to yell. wilting and warping in a house that isn't a home so much as a cage.

her mouth goes dry when neil walks into the room. he calmly plucks the phone right out of her hands and has a civil conversation with the officer on the other end of the line. puts on his public friendly polite smile even tho no one but max is actually looking. it vanishes when he hangs up, crumbles into an ugly, menacing scowl.

max sees his fist come up. then the next thing she knows, she's on her back, blinking her eyes open under weight. billy's weight. neil is on a tirade like no other and he's shielding max from the worst with his own body, taking the hits. raises an arm and crooks it to protect both max's face and his own when neil picks up a kitchen chair.

both wood and bone snap in that go. billy doesn't cry out. remains protectively braced above max. no one hears susan approach. max blinks and catches a glimpse of soft, fine red hair.

she's armed with a steel pipe wrench, old and rusty, no longer particularly practical for plumbing purposes. but nearly as long as a pole arm, and thirteen solid pounds. practical enough for something else, maybe.

max blinks again to the reverberations of a new body falling, not her mother or her brother, but her stepfather. this time the red she sees is wet and glistening.

#max mayfield #susan hargrove #billy hargrove #neil hargrove #keziahrain #thanks for playing!#ask meme #ask game #ask box

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dkyler24 · 4 years

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Title: KIN

Chapter 1 /Part 1:

DANIEL,

Its been 18 years and everything that’s happened sort of feels like a bad dream, or complete delirium-guess it depends on how high I am on any given day. It’s crazy how it all started with a virus, the worst kind. Starts with a fever, cold sweats, loss of control of basic bodily functions; it spreads and spreads throughout the body( some slow, others fast), causes random bursts of uncontrollable aggression. At its peak, you eventually lose all the humanity and sanity you ever had, becoming an animal dead set on attacking anything that moves. We call people who’ve reached this peak Croats-after the virus, Croatoan-but you knew that.

I guess you could say my own sanity ended as well. Thankfully not in the way your probably thinking. No, what I’m suffering with just happens to be a bad strain of flu. Which currently seems to be killing me, slowly. Though, no matter how careless I got or what I risked for a simple bag of weed-I always came back 100% me. Or what’s left of me. It’s amazing, really, just how much humanity has changed me in just the span of several years. And all those gut wrenching feelings that came with it. Hopelessness, powerlessness, love, anger, fear. It was all garbage though, how humans cope with it all, I’ll never understand.

I’m not sure when drugs became more important than the mission, only that there was a time I wasn’t in a mindless haze 90% of the time-though I’m betting my ass it had something to do with the sleeping pills Dean had chucked at me my first night fully human- which, I assure you was only out of the purest intentions of helping me sleep through the night. Dean had his own issues, and sometimes I genuinely wondered why I was still here. He’d gone cold, everything I loved about him stripped away with time and loss. He was forever changed by the death of his brother.

I had to watch him turn into his father-maybe even worse. The perfect leader, a soldier, yet that love and warmth I’d fallen so deeply in love with so long ago, just gone. But still, whether I gave a shit or not, something still told me to stay. To be there.. just in case. After all, poor excuse for a man or not, I DID promise. I made a promise never to leave his side. Which will either end with me choking on pills or being gutted by a Croat whichever came first.

It was typical at this point in time to be so disoriented, that day looked like night and night looked like day. It was and still is the only way to get through the day without killing myself. As far as I knew, I couldn’t get by without a hit of something or an orgasm. I honestly didn’t think of the possibility of a child being born. I never really cared what happened to the women that came in and out of my hut. It didn’t seem worth it to get all sappy over any of them, it was an exchange of pleasure not love. The only love I’d ever know had been Dean, and the poor man didn’t even love me back, so what was the point in love? Especially when everyone we did care about were dropping like flies or raging monsters.

At first, I hated you, Because for the first time, I was forced to actually care about something other than drugs and self-sacrifice. You had been conceived through a typical night of depression and lust. The orgy must have consisted of 7 or so women( maybe, don’t quote me on that). I thank God every day, now( wherever he ran off to), that you were the only one. I’d have probably given myself up to the Croats if I had had 7 children running around this camp. Your mother, who’s name I either can’t remember or never bothered to, left you as an infant, screaming and kicking outside my hut. Later, I learned she’d been killed by a Croat during a raid( oddly convenient, huh?).

After Dean died two years later( curtesy of Lucifer) people began to pity me, ridicule me, or both. Whereas before, they accepted I’d always be a “ dirty hippie”, now they wanted me to replace Dean as head of the camp. It’s funny how desperate people get, turning to an orgy loving, dead beat druggie for assistance. Frankly, I didn’t care. Told everyone to right fuck off. To make matters worse, I still had a two year old little boy I wanted nothing to do with. The camp took pity on on you, of course. Basically did what I’d hoped and for the most part, tried to keep you away from me- which was all fine and good; but for some reason, you never seemed to care. Ignoring every warning, running back to me every damn time. Wanting to be around me. Talk to me. sleep with me. Maybe it was because we were kin, I don’t really know. Even during the nights I laid in bed, sick from whatever I’d taken too much of, you were there by my side. Willing to listen to my nonsensical babbling, cool my burning skin, and hand me water when I needed it. To say I didn’t deserve any of it was a huge understatement.

As the years went by, the camp got smaller and smaller, raid by raid, until only 8 of us remained. Unfortunately all of them were men. They all laughed at the idea of me not having women to objectify-but slowly began to turn in my favor once they realized I held the key to muting every terrible emotion this pandemic had caused. Soon, I was the main source for drug supply, they all bartered for nights of carelessness and sex. Gave me whatever I wanted as long as I took their suffering away. In a way, it made me feel like an angel again. Like I had a purpose in this crazy life. Never mind the depravity- it’s not like there were any angels left on earth to drag me down to hell for it. I was given a nickname- Smokey the Angel. Primarily to make fun of me, but when it stuck, I ended up adopting it for real. Wouldn’t Dean be proud of THAT legacy.

Eventually, the Croats seemed to evolve- like a deranged breed of human. They attacked in organized packs. They seemed to have regained the ability to talk and conform to a set of pre-determined standards. Instead of fighting like savages, most of them had taken up guns and other weapons. Favoring ambushes and raids of their own. Two men died after learning this the hard way. The remaining 6 men spent the next 16 years tracking and mapping out the Croats several camps and the evolvement of their intelligence, Which was not a slow process.

If I could secretly admit to being proud of anything, I guess it would be Your unwavering hunger for knowledge and your massive amounts of blind courage. It reminded me of a better time, when I was still useful, when giving a damn didn’t hurt so much. But more than anything, those bright green eyes, and that determined, focused drive that reminds me of Dean. Maybe that’s part of the reason I resisted you in the beginning. There were times, in my drunken, high drugged out mist, that I thought maybe Dean HAD been brought back. It wasn’t Impossible to believe my son could be the reincarnation of Dean. In fact, I’m believing it more and more the older you get. Not to mention, somehow your the spitting image of him.

Your probably wondering why I bother writing this, it’s not like you don’t already know half of this. I guess I just wanted you to know, that even though you were born out of despair, I don’t hate you. I never even bothered to be a father, if I had a do over, believe me, I’d try harder. You never deserved any of this at all. This life, full of fear and a man who can’t even see past his own self-loathing and grief to give you the childhood you needed. Even when I abused you, you never let go of your unconditional love for me. Deep down I knew I’d die in a heap of sweat with nothing good to show for the life I’ve lead-well, except you. My Daniel. Innocent, uncorrupted Daniel. You are my one good thing. I’ve asked too much of you over the years, I know, but if I could ask for one last thing, it would be to stay true to that.

I’ve arranged to send you somewhere you won’t ever have to suffer due to my neglect. A place without Croats, a fresh new world where you can start a new life away from all this. I never bothered to show you any kind of love, and that was my greatest mistake. So let this be a testament to how much I really do love you. Let this make up for all the times I abandoned you in your time of need.

Go through the rift, don’t ask stupid questions like how I did it and why I’m doing this. I won’t let you live the rest of your life in a miserable wasteland- and please don’t stick around to watch me die, you’ve been through enough.

I love you,

Your Father

..........................................

Daniel gaped at the letter, why the hell was he sitting here reading this instead of running to his side? “ what is this, a suicide note?” Eli gave him a look. “He didn’t give himself the flu.” Daniel glared at him. “That’s not funny. Now please for the love of God let me through, let me see my dad.” Eli shook his head, “normally, I wouldn’t give a rats ass what the man wants, but this was his dying wish. He told me not to let you see him until you read that letter. Personally, I think he’s raving mad, nearly dropped dead trying a second ago,” He shook his head in disbelief. “ still got so much energy..” Daniel tried to push past him, but the old man was surprisingly strong considering his bony frame. He stopped him, holding him back. “ why are you doing this! He’s gonna die while we’re out here bickering like little kids. I’m sorry if I’d like to hold my own fathers hand as he pass—“

“ Hey!” They heard a shout from inside. It was hoarse and ended in a fit of coughing. Daniel took that moment to shrug out of Eli’s grip and ran inside. There was a pitcher of water on a side table. He grabbed it and poured some into a plastic cup. Cas took it. “ Eli, I told you to have him read the l—“ Daniel huffed. “ Dad, will you forget about the damn letter for one minute and drink this, please?” Cas looked like he wanted to retort, but figured everyone would feel better after he’d downed the water.

“ why should I read some letter when you could just tell me yourself. I don’t want to spend your last moments waiting outside for you to die.” Cas grabbed his hand, “ In case you haven’t realized, I don’t have time for the I love you I’m sending you away speech; I’M DYING.” Daniels mouth fell open, “ sending me aw—Why? What the hell have I done?” Cas groaned. “ This would have gone so much easier if you’d just read the letter!” But Daniel set the letter aside. Squeezing his hand tighter. “ Screw. The. Letter. Look me in the eye and tell me everything, please.”

Daniel had always been stubborn, Cas should have known he wasn’t going to sit around and read a stupid letter. By some miracle, this man loved him- even though he never gave him a reason to. So, he gave up. He took a deep breathe, and proceeded to tell him everything. He’d managed to cut a deal with Gabriel, who thankfully was still alive, to open a rift to a timeline way into the future-one he knew Daniel would be safe in.

“ No, I’m not leaving you.” Daniel growled. Cas reached up to caress his face. “You always gave me a love I never deserved. Let me do this one thing for you please.”

“ well I don’t want it, any of this!” He seethed, tears creeping down his cheeks. “ why can’t you accept the fact that even though your a piece of shit, people still love you.”

“ I’ve had sex with everyone in this camp, repeatedly, trust me, at most they tolerated me. YOU always have, and whether you want it or not, I need to give it back, by taking you away from this empty, suffering place.”

Daniel closed his eyes. “ No. This is the worst thing you could possibly do.. but, your right about one thing, I will never stop loving you. DESPITE, how many times you’ve let me down.” He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. Eli, probably. He refused to open his eyes as Cas dragged him down into a tight hug. He ignored the rug burn as he landed on his knees. “Goodbye Daniel” Cas whispered.

And that was that. The arms that had pulled him in with boa constrictor-like strength, when limp. One last exhale, his eyes fluttered closed. He laid unmoving, blood drying at the corners of his mouth and in certain areas on his shirt.

Just then, Daniel heard a loud crackling behind him. He spun around, grabbing Cas Hand reflexively, only briefly forgetting he was dead. A man stood there. Dusty brown hair and a stupid smile on his face. “ you must be Daniel.” Daniel didn’t respond. Given he’d just watched his father die from the flu, he desperately wanted to punch this guy in the mouth. Eli gave him a warning look and shook his head. He’d known Daniel long enough to see it coming. In fact, when the camp was bigger, Eli had been one of the only ones willing to take him under his wing. Care for him durning his childhood years when Cas wouldn’t. When he was 16, despite Cas’ protests Eli, Dean and Bobby started training him and eventually took him out to help on raids.

Daniel took a cautious step forward and turned to glance at Eli. “ Even I agreed this was for the best kid. There isn’t much of a world left to defend here. The rest of us are sittin’ chew toys. GO. It’s ok.” Daniel took a step back, then walked over to Eli. Gabriel’s smile faded into impatientness. “ Come on kid, I’m not as strong as I used to be I don’t have all day.” Daniel turned a scorching glare on Gabriel and he raised his hands in defense. Daniel attacked Eli, yanking him into an embrace. “ Thanks for everything Eli. Hold down the fort?” Eli had tears running down his face. “ you bet I will.” He thought about just shooting the bastard and running, but deep down, he knew his father and Eli were right. There was truly nothing left of this world.

Gabriel took Daniel by the hand. He felt a small shock sail through his body as he jump through the waiting rift. Which was flickering and glitching like an actual lightning bolt. In an instant, they were both on the other side. Daniel unclenched his hand, finding that Gabriel was nowhere to be found. He stood facing a building, which looked to be at least a couple stories high. Nothing else surrounded it. No houses, just a dirt path leading who knows where. ‘ Great’ he thought. Wherever his dad had sent him, seemed to be right smack dab in the middle of nowhere. He sighed, frustrated as he trudged up to what he hoped was the front doors and knocked.

He waited, his heart hammering hard in his chest. It seemed to take forever before he finally heard heavy footsteps on the other end. On impulse, Daniel drew his gun and an angel blade from his belt. Ready for anything. The door swung open harshly.

..............................................................

What Daniel hadn’t been expecting was to see none other than Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester... and his dad. All pointing guns and blades at him. Dean’s hard look sent shivers down his spine. To Dean’s left, stood his Dad. Right off the bat he noticed a big difference. For one thing, he was healthy. Not the sweaty, hacking man who’d just died in his arms. He also looked older, way older. Although his dad had been human for years, he hadn’t aged as fast as most men in the Camp. Some didn’t even believe he WAS aging. It seemed this version of his dad had aged quite a bit. Crows feet at the corners Of his eyes, forehead lines, gray hairs and all. He wore a white shirt with a thin black plaid pattern, the buttons undone a little to show a plain white undershirt, simple blue jeans and a black belt. He wore thick white socks and no shoes. Sam and Dean hadn’t changed much, except for the obvious signs of age.

He re-holstered his gun and blade against his better judgement. There was a possibility he could be killed, but he’d probably be killed faster if he kept a gun pointed at them. He really didn’t know much about this new world he’d been sent to. It was clear it was earth. Possibly an alternate timeline?

#destiel #well sort of #not as much #endverse castiel #first fanfic #chapter 1

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seekthemist · 7 years

Text

You would even say it glows

As I promised, here I come with my @pynchsecretsanta 2017 fill! All my love and all my best wishes for the holidays to @mild-lunacy <3

This little tale of madness is on the themes of "the Adventure with the Once and Future Camaro" + "A weird guest needs help at 300 Fox Way and the boys are involved". It’s also the first "creative" stuff that I manage to write, away from the terrible, terrible grip of academic obligations. It has been amazing to come back to fandom my heart out, I hope it's not in a weird style because of "residual technical writing"-mode! Everything it's sadly unbetaed at the moment, so forgive and forget the typos, I swear I'll update a corrected version if I can!

All my thanks go to Sae (@picapicae), that helped me come up with this crazy plot you just read and the Pynch SecretSanta ‘17 team that organized this amazing gig!

Now, off with the reading, mostly under the cut for length!

You can also read this on Ao3!

Adam first jostled awake in total darkness, which given the early winter days could mean anything from three to seven o'clock in the morning. The reflexive switch of his brain that decided to pull his eyes open — governed by a circadian cycle Adam destroyed for himself in high school and did not realign in a semester at Columbia — was compatible with any of these options. He inhaled, gearing up to remember if there had been an alarm on the other side of his slumber, waiting from him to go to work, outline an assignment or grab breakfast while networking with his peers. His breath reverberated humid on his lips, filling his nostrils with a suggestion of smells.

Wood. A familiar sweat. Holly and musk. An impression of heat.

Adam did not open his eyes but allowed himself to exhale, bodily, resting his forehead on Ronan's nape.

Details slotted into position in an easy catalogue, disorienting in their lack of urgency.

Cold ears, a suggestion of chill from the world that somehow existed outside of the cocoon of blankets and duvet. The impossible span of Ronan's shoulders, radiating heat, and the inside of his knees brushing against Adam's. The soft, oblivious breathing of Ronan in his sleep — impossible to match in its pace, and yet Adam caught himself trying.

It was weird to be back. He should probably get up.

Ronan reached for Adam's hand where it lingered on the fabric of his shirt, and tucked it close to his chest with a deep sigh. He did not move further and his breath didn't waver.

It was good to be back. There was no rush to go anywhere.

Adam slotted his body better in their puzzle, plastering against Ronan's back. Comfortable bed and an unyielding body to hold.

He had not planned to go back to sleep, but the warmth made the back of his eyelids heavy and tingling. It was easier to burrow down and let the warmth doze him off again, after all.

********

The second awakening came to a bedroom pooled with indistinct grey light and the mattress jumping around asymmetrically. Adam's eyes were wide awake, heart pounding, before even he consciously realized it himself.

The mattress stopped moving, and an uncoordinated clattering of hooves traced its way on the wooden floor all the way down the corridor.

"Opal!" Adam protested, trying to get up and convince his tongue to come up with an appropriate reproach.

Ronan was splayed on top of him, heavy like a very seductively shaped brick and just as reluctant to being moved, so neither happened. Nor did Opal offer a distant string of unconvincing apologies mixed with complaints for having woke them up so brutally, as she usually would.

The clattering expanded all the way to the ground floor of the Barns and then suddenly quieted.

"Opal!" Adam stressed again, turning his head above Ronan's, still resting between his chest and shoulders.

"What?!" Opal's voice came from the direction of Matthew's bedroom, groggy and grumpy with sleep.

"Shit" Ronan mumbled, reproachful.

Too heavy and too unmoving, even for Adam to be distracted by the way their legs were twisted together.

"Ronan, what the hell did you just dreamt?"

All things considered, a regular morning in the Lynch household.

********

"But how can you not know what you were dreaming, exactly?"

Ronan scratched the buzzed hair on his nape, sliding down the stairs with more elegance that should be legal for someone who couldn't even move a muscle five minutes before.

"Parrish, I'm not grocery shopping when I'm dreaming!"

"Except when you are, I have to hide that heater every time my roommate is around because it heats like a nuclear reactor!"

"That college room is fucking freezing, what is your point?" Ronan gave him a stinky eye while putting on a random pair of socks and bolted out of the door without even shoes on. In the sudden burst of cold that soared through the open door, the black line of he tattoo, visible around the hem of a too-thin t-shirt, rippled like the surface of a lake in a skipping stones game. "Mary mother of Jesus..."

Adam did his best to provide Ronan with a masterful execution of an unimpressed gaze, picking up a coat from the rack before following him outside in the porch. It was as cold as Ronan’s mumbled string of swears could suggest, and missing the bed was all too easy. "My point is that we’re rushing to chase this stuff out in the cold but we don’t even know what it is."

The indiscernible mixture of frost and actual snow crackled under Ronan’s hobbling down the steps, uncharacteristically awkward in the clear attempt not to freeze his feet off. "It doesn't fucking matter, it's like an animal."

"Like what animal?" Adam feigned disinterest, even in the clear smell of attempted deflection in the winter morning air. He still followed Ronan down towards the front of the master house, where a trail of something that looked like hooves disappeared in the thin layer of snow all the way out in the field. The imprints were too big to be Opal’s, too small for a monstrosity like the night horror. None of the Barn’s animal where around, shied away in their carefully curated inside spaces, evidently wiser than the both of them.

"A horse? Another fucking goat? An oversized crazy sheep?" Ronan dragged his words, scrutinizing the field in a studious effort to avoid Adam’s gaze. He kicked on clump of frozen ground and swore again when his feet reminded him of the lack of shoes.

“Nice guesses for the hooves,” Adam mused, closing the distance with Ronan’s back and propping the forearms on his shoulders. “Are we freaking out about an oversized crazy sheep?”

“We are not freaking the fuck out.”

Adam’s smile stretched his skin against the cold air. “Good to know. Especially since you’re the one who told me that your dream animals tend not to leave the Barns.” He eyed Ronan sideways, but got no obvious reaction but a tilt of his head to brush towards him. His blue eyes were still facing forwards to where the trail disappeared, his breath fogging out slightly. “We either go back now or I’ll drop the task of amputating your feet onto Gansey.”

A snarl opened up at the idea, all white teeth and morning stubble, evidently entertained. “The lecture for something like that would be a damn trip.” Ronan turned around and looped his arm around Adam — more around his neck than his shoulders — and headed the both of them back towards the house, foul mood suddenly dropped. His strides were sort of hindered by the cold and the coarse ground getting to his feet but Ronan still moved around with confidence.

A few meters ahead, the master house stood unperturbed and yet constantly changing. In the dreary light of the cloudy day, the solid wood of the porch and the frame of most windows where dotted in twists of holly and mistletoe, the berries shining warmly. The decorations stretched further inside, through the hall and the living room. The Barns were evidently ready for Christmas.

For yet another time since his arrival a couple of days prior, Adam contemplated the sight, while retreating back into the warmth of the house. There was something indiscernible about the festive display, a delicate feeling that kept nagging at the back of his mind and pushing a part of Adam’s brain — the one desensitised from and genuinely uncaring towards all the common holidays made of family and money to spend — slightly out of balance.

He could feel Ronan’s eyes on him, though, so Adam stopped watching the tree and pushed his efforts into hanging the coat back on the rack.

“You really went all in with the decoration.”

“It’s Christmas,” Ronan replied, matter-of-factly, moving towards the fireplace to light it up and warm his feet there. “Matthew will like this.”

Matthew surely would. At the same time, Adam wasn’t sure if and how he liked it himself, and settling for a diplomatically aseptic I don’t care either way left a bad aftertaste in his mouth.

The feeling was slippery.

It would have been reasonable for Ronan to be pissed at Adam’s lack of participation to this specific brand of Lynchness, but he wasn’t. Incongruently, it was another reason for Adam to feel like he was missing something essential for this whole winter break at the Barns.

********

Following a series of contingencies, 300 Fox Way became the logical destination for Christmas Eve.

Opal cannon-balled herself out of the BMW back door as soon as Ronan parked in a free spot by the sidewalk. In her rush towards the house, completely light up and lively even from the distance, she didn’t even bother with the garden gate and just jumped over the fence to cross the perpetually overgrown grass.

Adam laughed his way out of the passenger's seat. Chainsaw had stayed at home, nested close to the fireplace, so there was no fighting to maneuver a very opinionated bird out. “Maybe they shouldn’t have promised her that she could touch the oven.”

Ronan locked the car with the flashing click on his copy of the key and walked around to join him on the sidewalk. “What a terrible mistake. Also not my problem.”

The grin he flashed Adam — all plush lips and pointy canines — was a mesmerizing when matched with his sleek charcoal grey suit and the almost shocking splash of colour of his bordeaux tie. It would have been an impeccable Sunday best performance, appropriate even for Declan himself, if it weren’t for the loose hanging of the tie and the first two buttons of the shirt undone. Still, when they entered in the house — closing the door that Opal had left wide open behind them — Maura rushed by them, brushing Adam’s arm with one hand and giving Ronan a pointed once-over.

“Looking sleek, Ronan,” she mused, in her very everyday clothing and surrounded by an house that was evidently not in full Christmas celebration attire.

Ronan wrinkled his nose, but managed to contain the contrariness after a year and a half of exposure to the 300 Fox Way's women. “I’m going to Church right after, as soon as Declan and Matthew get here.”

“Of course you are.” Maura’s smile was gentle, but got morphed as soon as she started moving again towards the living room by her calling at full voice. “Blue! The rest of your boys are here!”

“They are not my boys!” Blue called back, but still tumbled out of one of the ground floor rooms and tackled Adam’s side in her best impression of a five-foot tall rugby player. Her skin was dark and still glowing from the wind and the sun from the recent road trip in Arizona and California, and she somehow knitted together three different pieces of woolen sweaters into an oversized dress.

Adam sunk into the embrace, “Hey, Blue.”

“Hey, Adam. Looking good, with your smart boy vibes.”

“There is indeed a clear sense of Ivy League in this hallway,” Gansey — impeccably dressed in cashmere and needlecord trousers, a failed attempt on casual ruined by the inherent poshness of his being — stepped away from a door frame and got closer to them.

There was a very civilized show of hand shaking between him and Ronan — weirdly firm and intense, thumbs slotting together, tendons lifting like wires underneath the skin — before Blue snorted in a very undignified manner. Gansey smiled sheepishly and caved, dragging Ronan close into a hug.

Ronan’s shoulders sunk down, a subtle yield of his imposing figure, one arm circling Gansey’s wide back. “Welcome home, shithead.”

Gansey smiled with the same unabashed delight he would usually reserve to dusty manuscript munched through by time. He reached with one hand and dragged Blue and Adam close. “It’s good to see you, before we go and face the snow up in Montana.”

“We first have to face your parents and the Gansey Christmas dinner tomorrow.” Blue reminded him, but leaned his face against Ronan’s arm and Ronan didn’t bark her off, weirdly subdue by the whole situation.

“Yeah, that’s a controversial truth.” Gansey admitted, but didn’t stop smiling.

Adam stayed silent through the whole exchange, Blue’s small hands clasped on the fabric of his shirt and Gansey’s grip against his arm, while Ronan towered subtly on the three of them.

It was inexplicable and way too convoluted, the way he had missed them. He had not intended to miss anyone in Henrietta, and yet here he was. Here he had been eager to be, since they told him they were going to come back for Christmas as well.

“Hey, human pile!” Henry made his way from the kitchen through the hallway, carrying an amount of plates that shouldn’t have been physically feasible for a human to balance. “Are you going to help me with this? So I can join the group hug. And just so you know, I won’t greet anyone until I can do it properly, because I’m rude like that.”

Blue laughed, Gansey started to apologise, and they all extricated from the twist of limbs without making the process awkward after too much wait.

Reflexively, Adam took a deep breath as well, and went to do his part on the setting of the table.

********

As it turned out, getting to sit down and eat dinner in a very commonplace manner was asking for too much.

The table cloth was spread over a collection of four different tables — mismatched in height and width but at least stable on their legs — and surrounded by a random amount of chairs. There was enough space at least for Opal and Gwenllian, for sure, but the latter had disappeared regally into her attic and Opal had followed suit — probably more interested in what she had in her hair today over anything on the table now that the oven was off.

Calla — very pointedly stressing that no, kids, you just need to sit the hell down and drink your mulled wine, do you think I want you messing around? — had barely put down the fifth pie, while Jimi rearranged Maura’s valiant attempt to vegetable bowls around to make space, when a very marked bang echoed from the door.

Silence fell through the living room.

They were all still turned around when the second ramming on the entrance door came. Nervousness prickled at Adam’s throat, but when he turned around to Jimi, Maura and Calla he caught them simply putting the utensil down.

“How many times did you draw The Fool today, Maura?” Jimi asked, neatly folding the pot holder over.

“Five times.” Maura’s reply was accompanied by the third loud bang.

“Is one of you gonna get that door, or are we waiting for it to get battered down?” Calla looked at all of them, a very unimpressed frown on her forehead.

Gansey and Ronan jumped on their feet in a marked, well-practice unison oiled by years of recklessness and an aptitude to crazy plans that probably beat everyone else’s in the room. While Gansey strolled, valiant as a king, towards the entrance, Adam could not help but notice that Ronan was weirdly tense.

“Do we have any guesses on what is on the other side of the door?” Henry asked, without losing the usual chirpiness, even while he snatched Blue’s pink switchblade from one of the six pockets of her dress.

“Oh, no idea, and I don’t think the Arizona guy with the rifle would follow us here.” Blue replied, trying to sound very sensible while she was actually cautious. She picked up a bat from the umbrella stand and put it on Henry’s hand in exchange of her switchblade.

“The what, now?” Adam looked at the both of them, with the clear underlying of and you haven’t told me about it why?. Still, as the only actually practical person in the room, he recovered Ronan’s mobile from where he abandoned it on the table, because someone must be able to call for help if needs must.

“I would say that’s a story for another moment.” Gansey eyed them when they lined up at his back, close to the door. Another ramming made them all wince, the door evidently shaking under the impact. “Okay, since we’re all here, I’ll open up.”

They carefully lined up on the side opposite to the hinges and Gansey borrowed Henry’s bat to push down the door handle without having to stand too close to it.

Adam didn’t know what he was expecting — and certainly could not imagine what Ronan was thinking to match the sour expression in his face — but he had somehow assumed that whatever was banging would come barging in into the entrance, escalating the action.

Instead, everything was perfectly still and they were left to stare over the threshold, the light on the inside pouring out to light up the doorsteps.

On the other side, a reindeer taller than Blue and with antlers that could easily reach the top of Ronan’s head stood innocently, already detached from all the raucous it had caused. It shook its head as in greeting, and a tinkling followed, not only from the big bell hanging from its neck but also from the jingle bells on the garlands twirled around the antlers.

The reindeer had a very bright, almost shining, red nose.

Henry bursted out in a laugh, “Is that Rudolph the reindeer?”

“It would...appear so?” Gansey was remarkably skeptical for someone who spent years of his life chasing a sleeping Welsh king.

“No, okay, I draw a line at Santa Claus,” Blue lifted her hands up, as if she could bully the reindeer out of existence. The reindeer, on its part, just shook the jingling antlers again and dragged its hooves on the worn-out concrete outside of the door.

“Fuck Santa Claus, get this thing away from here,” Ronan snarled, overcoming the weird silent stillness that apparently possessed him and making to surpass Gansey and get to the door.

Adam could feel the reality shifting around them, in that subtle way that clicked events together in his mind. The Christmas decoration, Ronan gingerly readying the house for Matthew and for the holidays, the jumping mattress, the hooves print on the icy ground.

“Shit,” he gritted out, dragging the palm of the right hand over his face. He could feel Blue, Gansey and Henry’s eyes on him like a physical presence. “That’s not Santa Claus. Ronan dreamt it.”

The howling laughter that followed from Blue and Henry echoed through the hallway. Gansey had that very peculiar expression that he wore when he was trying to maintain a subdue composure but was instead bemused.

“Fucking drop it and help me!” Ronan bit out, reaching for the reindeer.

The reindeer scurried out of his reach, the red nose shining slightly.

“Are you kidding me, Lynch, this is amazing!” Henry’s camera kept flashing, Adam couldn’t even pinpoint the moment he took his phone out to document the whole business.

Ronan and the reindeer were circling each other, in a weird mess rhythmed by the bells chiming around the animal. “Cut the crap before someone see this in the damn garden and help me, for Christ’s sake!”

“Oh.” Blue said, suddenly looking over the reindeer and into her own neighbourhood.

“Uh.” Gansey echoed, clearly conceding the point.

Even though Henrietta had admittedly seen weirder and more concerning stuff than a perfect dreamt version of Rudolph, Adam had no doubt this could be the turning point for finally getting everyone’s attention on the little town and its shady supernatural businesses.

They did get onto it promptly, then, even though Henry was most likely taking a video — “We seriously need a record of this thing, come on!” — rather than helping out.

Surprising no one, dream-Rudolph was just as ill-tempered and shenanigans prone as anything Ronan has ever dreamt, though luckily less deadly than some of his other creations. Huge and surprisingly agile, even with four of them trying to actively coordinate, the reindeer constantly escaped and refused to be cornered. The net result was a merry chase around the garden of 300 Fox Way, vaguely lit just by the light filtering from the windows of house — from which Maura, Calla and Jimi watched while sipping wine cheerfully — and from some streetlights.

“This is seriously not working!” Adam pointed out to the others, after the fourth stumble around the unkempt grass, and the reindeer ran away happily towards the other corner of the house once again.

“I’m afraid that’s true.” Gansey heaved out, resting an elbow against the bark of Blue’s favourite tree to catch his breath. “Jane…” he piped up suddenly “...is the hammock still in the Dream Pig?”

“What fucking hammock?” Ronan turned around, the reindeer having escaped him once more. He was frustrated for more than the exercise, guilt creeping out from the shades of his aggressiveness.

“You mean the net one? I think it’s under the passenger's seat...or I don’t know, maybe in the boot,” Henry stopped filming for a second to reply. How he could manage not to get levelled to the ground my Ronan’s murderous gaze was a mystery. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, four people chasing your Rudolph is already too much.”

“You know what, maybe Henry is right, maybe we’re just scaring it! And we’re not gonna catch it with a net!” Blue protested. “If we could just convince it to get closer…”

“Jesus, maggot, it’s a damn reindeer, it’s bigger than you. Not that it’s fucking difficult, but…”

Adam got moving again, and went to grab Ronan by the scruff. He was tense as a wire and ready to fight, but he did not fight Adam off. “Okay, let’s not start this. You three can try and catch it gently, Ronan and I will recover the hammock...just in case. Deal?”

“Deal.” Gansey confirmed, tossing him the keys of the Pig for him to catch.

They left Henry to put away his phone and the three of them to start a conversation on the theoretically prime method of gentle approach to wildlife. Adam tuned out comments on that time in the valley though with a weird sense of detached melancholy about adventures that did not involve him — even though he had his own share and a life that he chose for himself — and concentrate on Ronan.

“You could have just told me what we were chasing off this morning,” Adam said, matter-of-factly regardless of the risk of escalation with Ronan.

“What about the damn your creations don’t leave the Barns?” Ronan countered, dark in the face with trouble.

Adam opened the car, somehow bright in its orange paint even in the dimly lit driveaway of 300 Fox way. By unspoken agreement, he opened the boot, while Ronan slid himself in the passenger seat after a frustrating challenge with the door — which had behaved perfectly before the first leg of the road trip, so maybe Adam should really give the Camaro a look before the others disappeared North.

“That’s usually true, though. And it’s a reindeer, Ronan, not a H-bomb, you could have just told me about it.”

Ronan made a noncommittal half-grunt and rummaged around in the front, “Jesus fuck this place is a mess.”

While Adam did know a deflection when he heard one he could hardly disagree with the concept, especially while facing a boot that seemed mostly full of hiking supplies, tents, lamps and backup pairs of shoes. “Tell me about it, any luck with the hammock?”

“Fuck no. But there is even more stuff in the backseat.”

Adam sighed deeply. “I’ll come and have a look. If we don’t find it at least Blue won’t freak out about animal mistreatment and whatnot.”

Ronan snorted. “That red-nosed fucker is quick as shit. A net won’t kill it — or hurt it, Jesus — it’s just so we don’t end up on every Goddamn blog in the country.”

Adam moved around a book of maps and lifted what he hoped would be the hammock only to figure that was one of Blue’s crazy net dresses. He was just about to say something — about the blogs, the clothes, Ronan’s nervousness — when he heard the clattering noise and the clamor of voices approaching.

“Adam, watch out!”

He did, prompted by Ronan’s alert, but it did not save him from getting pushed bodily inside the car, the backseat door slamming under the impact of jingling antlers. Ronan turned around on the passenger's seat, reaching for him with clear concern while looking around suspiciously and swearing under his breath.

“I’m okay, I’m all right, it was just a shove.”

“What the fuck is that thing doing?” Ronan gritted out. His eyes followed the Dream Rudolph, currently rushing in circles around the car in a flurry of antlers, garlands and bells. A bit more in the distance, Henry, Blue, and Gansey watched helplessly, cautiously keeping out of the way of this big of an animal in a rush.

At some point around the fifth turn, the Camaro started to vibrate, shaking as if they were back at driving it in off roads paths. The reindeer stopped running around, nudging the sleek metal of the hood with his nose for a second, before turning around and getting off in a rush once again.

Impossibly, the Dream Pig followed.

Like a sleigh on a snow path, Adam and Ronan found themselves dragged along Fox way.

“Fuck, Christ,” Ronan tried to turn on the engine, reflexively, but the Camaro was as unresponsive as it had been in crazy hot days in the Virginia countryside. “Parrish, can you do something about it?”

Adam clasped his hands on the two front seats, trying to soften the increasing shaking of the car while the reindeer brought them off road, towards a dried football field immersed in the dark. “I can work engines, Lynch, not empty hoods full of flowers.”

“Fuck, you’re right. Why the hell is it doing it? How the hell is it doing it?”

They were good questions, but there was no ready answer to them. “Maybe we can try and jump off now that we’re out in a field.” Adam contemplated, trying to problem solve the situation even if it meant leaving the Camaro on its on devices with a Dream Rudolph.

Just as he was saying it, the car stopped shaking and tilted weirdly — first all the way to the left and then all the way to the right, softly and effortlessly. Ronan and Adam exchanged a very alarmed look, and then rushed to look out.

The reindeer was still running, but not on the ground. Slowly but steadily, they all lifted up, and up, and the Pig flew off in the cloudy winter sky. The Dream Rudolph’s nose was shining brighter than a beacon.

On the other side of the windows, thankfully closed, Henrietta grew smaller and smaller underneath them. They began circling the town, and it would have resembled Gansey’s faithful cardboard reconstruction of it if it weren’t for the dark. Streetlight and lit-up windows traced the town in negative, as a photography waiting to be developed, and dimmed out in the distance towards the wild darkness of the mountain and the countryside. The quiet lulling of the Camaro was nothing like the thunderous engine of the helicopter Helen flew them in, and the whistling of the wind outside the vehicle was spaced out by the jingle of bells and Ronan string of increasingly inventive swearing.

Adam pressed his forehead against the corner of the driver’s seat, and began to laugh.

Ronan stopped swearing and eyed him carefully. “Parrish?”

“Ronan…” Adam was having a hard time catching his breath. “...your reindeer is making us fly!”

Ronan was eying him suspiciously, and the worry that Adam self-control finally snapped to leave him in hysterics several tens of feet off the ground was not completely unfounded from his part. Still, it was fucking, recklessly, hilarious.

“This is amazing,” Adam reiterated, liftings his head and looking at Ronan and Henrietta gleaming on the other side of the windows. The laughing fit was only slowly subsiding. “I don’t know how you do it, and you always do it, but come on.”

Ronan back around on the passenger's seat, looking towards the windshield and over it, where Dream Rudolph was still effortlessly trotting around — the red light of its nose reflecting from the bells on its antlers in weird dots around the light brown fur.

“I was kind of hoping you could have fun,” he murmured, at the end, reluctant as ever to express any concept of emotional value.

“What, with Rudolph?”

“I don’t know. Fuck.” one hand snatched up to slide on the buzzed cut hair. “With Christmas, even? I know you don’t like it, not really. But you came back, so I wanted you to have fun. And all these silly stories were fucking fun, when we were little.”

Another laugh started pulling at the corners of Adam’s mouth. “So that’s why you dreamt me a Rudolph? To steal the Camaro from Gansey and drench me in Christmas spirit?”

“You’re an asshole, I didn’t know it could fucking fly a car!”

“Maybe it can fly only this Pig because you dreamt it as well. Why don’t you dream all the other reindeers, maybe we can fly anything with the whole pack...flock…”

“It’s a herd, you fucker,” Ronan’s tension broke into a barked laugh, finally turning back to look at Adam. Their eyes met for a second, before Ronan’s dropped on Adam’s smiling lips, as if to follow their profile and convince himself that he was actually happy.

Still perched with one elbow on the back of the driver’s seat, Adam reached to grab Ronan’s nape. There was no resistance when he dragged him close and kissed him.

That high in the sky in the middle of winter, the inside of the car was cold and so were Ronan’s lips. When he tilted his head and pressed their lips together better, though, the impression of humid warmth from the soft inside of the bottom lip was starking against Adam’s. Adam hummed and caved first, not even trying to play a game of softness and teasing, and pushed forward. He liked the feeling of Ronan’s mouth dropping open between them, he liked even more to slide his tongue inside and feel the kiss tingle all the way down his spine.

Ronan’s mouth felt impossibly hot and familiar, spiced up with the crazy amount of cinnamon Calla had manage to drop in the mulled wine. Adam felt very hungry and very fulfilled at the same time — at every twist of their tongue, at the small itching in breath against his skin while Ronan tried to inhale and drag the kiss deeper, further.

When the need for air broke them up eventually, Adam brushed their nose together, lips still lingering against each other’s, and opened his eyes. In the almost darkness, Ronan still had his eyes closed, intent in their proximity. Everything was surging weirdly against Adam’s chest, so he just tilted his head to the side and kissed along Ronan’s handsome face — the solid cut of his cheekbones against the skin, down the smoothness of his shaved-clean jaw — all the way down his neck.

With a faint sigh at the side of Adam’s ear, Ronan craned his neck in a clear path for Adam’s lips. Adam kissed it, again and again, hyper-aware of the skin warming up at every slide of tongue. A slight shiver followed when Adam made his way even further down, hooking a finger on the perfectly pressed collart of Ronan’s white shirt to close his mouth at the bottom of his neck and suck.

“Shit…” Ronan whistled out between gritted teeth, grabbing at the back of Adam’s elbow, as if to stop him from withdrawing.

Not that it mattered or it was needed. Adam kept at it long enough to leave a mark, and then move slightly down, toeing the line of the two open buttons with two more hickeys all the way down to Ronan’s clavicle. Ronan burrowed a hand in Adam’s hair, when he stopped sucking. His chest was heaving under the open dampness of Adam’s lips, but Adam’s own breath bumped back from Ronan’s skin to his face.

“Should I come to the backseat?”

“I’m not gonna fuck you in a flying car.”

“You need to choose a good way to go, at some point, Parrish.”

They both burst out laughing, again, and by silent agreement they stopped escalating the contacts.

“Hey, Ronan,” Adam whispered, lifting back up without sneaking out of the grip on his hair.

“Mhn?”

The hand combed through his hair and Adam felt like dropping his head against the side of Ronan’s. “It’s a very fun Christmas.”

The smile on Ronan’s lips was a clear stretch on Adam’s temple, when Ronan turned around to kiss it, intensely delicate. “Good to know. But we’re gonna freeze our asses off and fucking starve if we don’t get the fuck down soon,” he gave a very pointed look at the Dream Rudolph, rising his voice from the car. “What do you think, shithead full of bells?”

The reindeer seemed to hear him just fine, shaking his antlers just for the sake of more jingling and bellowing softly. After all the chasing around, it was almost amicable now, leading them in circles that went lower and lower, back towards the field they took off from.

Trust any animal of Ronan’s to be as temperamental as him.

By the time they settled back on the ground, Adam felt much more mentally ready for the Eve and the Christmas festivities to follow. He hadn’t realized he was nervous about them — about having someone worth spending them with for the first time ever, about not matching the mood and the expectation for lack of any practice — until now, with the weight lifted off his shoulders.

Of course, all the occupants of 300 Fox Way and then some, if the rest of the Lynch brothers had arrived in the meantime, would be freaking out. But that was another story, and maybe Dream Rudolph could fly for them as well.

********

On the morning of Boxing Day, Adam woke up alone in the bed but not alone in the bedroom, Opal cheerfully dangling her furry legs off one the chairs and watching him.

“Will you come, if you’re up? Kerah is out already!”

He had to snatch every second it took him to put some clothes appropriate for the type of chill he would experience outside, but at the end Opal got a grip of his hand and dragged him out.

“It’s not that cold!”

“You’re never cold, you don’t count.”

“Kerah says you’re never cold, but Kerah gets cold easily. So doesn’t he count as well?”

Adam laughed, “No, maybe he doesn’t either.”

Appently, for once in his life, Adam had been the last one to wake up. The frosty path Opal led him through was already marked by more than one pair of footprints; when they got to a shady corner close to the bent of creek that crossed the Barns, Declan and Matthew’s backs were as unmistakable as Ronan’s.

“I can’t believe you actually dreamt a Rudolph, Ronan,” Declan was saying.

“Yeah, you fucking said that already. Four times. What’s your point? Is there a time limit on reindeers?” Ronan turned around with one eyebrow up.

“Well, we all know what Declan’s favourite reindeer was, don’t we?” Matthew singsonged, circling his first brother.

“It’s not like I wanted one!” Declan snapped, all too promptly and with an uncharacteristic hinge of fluster in his tone.

“Suuuure you didn’t,” Ronan dragged, a shit-eating grin spreading. "What do you know, maybe I'll give you a lift back to D.C. in a couple of days."

Adam had to stop eavesdropping silently because Opal started losing it, her cawing laugh spreading and prompting Chainsaw to follow suite from where she was stomping around on the ground.

“Well, now we get to keep it, so it’s fair, isn’t it?” Matthew said, as Ronan gestured Adam closer.

A handful of meters head, the secluded corner of the Barns they were at was covered in bright white know and glistening with artificial cold, just like Cabeswater used to do when it changed season for good. In a cheerful jingle of bells, Dream Rudolph trotted around its new home, the red nose happily shining.

It was a good fix.

It had been a good Christmas.

#My Writing #the raven cycle #Pynch #Pynchsecretsanta17 #HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!#Enjoy some very random fluffiness #T rated #No big worries some nice kissing #Christmas shenanigans

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