#I wanna give her clunkers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jungle-angel · 2 years

Text

Little Benny: Part 1 (Miles Miller x Reader)

Summary: You and Miles have been together for the last two and a half years. Just when you think you couldn’t grow any closer, a new family member comes and changes everything.

Tagging: @nobody7102 @sebsxphia

“Jeez this old clunker is all rusted to shit,” Miles cursed under his breath as he fiddled with the inner workings under the hood of the old Camaro that was parked near the back of the hotel.

“Well, I guess that’s what we get for getting it out of a dirty junkyard,” Otis chuckled as he wiped his blackened hands on an old rag.

Miles shuddered at the thought of that place. “I don’t wanna think about it,” Miles said. “I came out of there and felt like I needed a tetanus shot.”

Otis laughed remembering the disgusted look on his son’s face when they had gone in there. Miles rolled his eyes and swore under his breath in the hopes that his old man wouldn’t hear him.

“Still working on the car?” you asked from the window of one of the rooms.

“Probably will be for the next eternity,” Miles called back to you. “I mean it (y/n), this thing’s a piece of shit and it can burn in hell.”

All of a sudden, there was a loud *CLUNK!!* and a pained yelp from Miles who shook his hand out, trying to rid of the dull pain that shot through his pinky. “AGH!!!! SHIT!!! Mother-fuck......uuuughh!!!!” Miles yelped before he kicked the tire with the flat of his foot. “Burn in hell you piece of shit car!”

“Now that’s not a very nice thing to say, is it?” said the cheerful voice of a woman.

Miles looked up in the direction it had come from and saw a woman standing there, her blonde hair tied behind her head and hanging down her shoulders by a silk ribbon. Her suitcase was right next to her feet while her white dress and denim jacket were absolutely immaculate.

“Momma?” Miles asked, wide eyed with disbelief.

“In the flesh honey!”

Miles laughed and ran straight into the arms of his mother, the two fully embracing before Otis made his way over. “You sneaky bird!” he chuckled.

“You sly son of a bitch!”

“C’mon Kathy, get over here,” Otis half laughed as he took his wife into his arms and kissed her. “How’d you get out here?”

“Well......I resigned from the hospital,” she answered.

“You what?” Otis asked with raised eyebrows.

“The Chief of Medicine was an ass so I asked for a transfer out here to Lake Tahoe before I told him I quit,” Kathy answered. “That and the house sold.”

“Oh thank God,” Otis sighed.

“Wait, the house?” Miles asked. “The house that I was born and raised in?”

“Yep,” Kathy answered. “Got a good twenty years out of it though.”

Miles was impressed but there was no denying that the place had been a fixer-upper to every degree.

“Miles?” you called from the window. “Miles is someone out there?”

“Momma’s here!” Miles called excitedly.

You came out the back door a moment later, your feet bare and the long skirts of your sundress trailing along the tops of your feet. “Kathy? Is it really you?”

You rushed to give Kathy a hug, over the moon that your mother-in-law had finally come out to Lake Tahoe to see you and Miles. “Doesn’t look like much has changed around here,” Kathy remarked.

“Well,” Miles said, scratching the back of his neck. “A few things have.”

“What do you mean?” Kathy asked him.

“Well for one thing,” Miles said, trying to hide the smile that was trying to crawl across his face. “You’re gonna be a Grandma.”

Kathy gasped, her jaw dropping halfway to the ground before she clapped a hand over her open mouth. “I’m.....I.....I what?” she gaped.

“Surprise!” you exclaimed, smoothing out your dress so that your bump was noticeable.

Kathy still couldn’t believe it. “How far out are you?”

“The doctor said another two weeks at most,” you told her.

Kathy was practically crying when you told her, her voice full of excitement knowing that it wouldn’t be long before she would be a grandmother.

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

You and Miles had begun to turn in for the night, your back aching from the weight and pressure of the baby who was weeks away from being born. You felt the little fluttering kicks that were growing more and more noticeable with each day that passed. You switched into a sleeveless, white nightdress and the loose crochet shawl that you flung over your shoulders before you felt Miles kissing the curve of your neck, his hands moving over your bump and the soles of the little feet inside, pressing against the palm of his hand.

“Won’t be long, will it?” me mumbled as he pressed his lips against your neck.

“God I hope it’s soon,” you sighed. “My back aches and this morning my feet were swollen.”

“Here,” Miles murmured. “Get yourself into bed. I’ll get in next to you.”

You eased yourself into bed with his help, lying back against the pillows and sighing with relief. Miles changed into his pale blue pjs and crawled in beside you, kissing your bump before you rested against each other, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your belly. Your hand moved over his, holding it when you felt the kicking again.

“Little one’s excited,” Miles said with a soft smile.

You hummed in response, reveling in his calming touch and the warmth of his body against yours. “You excited too?”

“I don’t know how to describe it,” Miles chuckled. “(Y/n) I.....”

Miles was abruptly interrupted by a creak and a loud *CLUNK!* on the other side of the wall, the noises repeating themselves every so often. You laughed and Miles groaned, knowing what it meant.

“My parents,” he sighed. “Are so FUCKING embarrassing.”

You laughed as Miles leaned over and switched off the bedside light, his arm around you and his face buried into your neck.

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

The hours ticked by as the rain fell in torrents on the roof, pulling you and Miles deeper into sleep. You blinked your eyes open when you suddenly felt something running down your thigh and onto the sheets.....something wet.

“Miles?” you whispered sleepily. “Miles!”

“Hmm?” he hummed sleepily as he lifted his head, his dark gold curls falling over his forehead.

“Are you ready to be a daddy?” you asked him mischievously.

Miles’s eyes suddenly went wide when he looked at the small, bedside clock. It wasn’t even midnight.

“N-now?” he stammered.

“My water just broke,” you told him.

“Oh shit,” Miles murmured when he suddenly noticed the wetness on your side of the bed. “Hang on, I’m gonna go get Momma.”

Miles grabbed his dark blue nightrobe off the back of a chair near the dresser and threw it on, hurrying to the next room over to wake his mother.

He found both her and his father asleep, the two of them spooning under the covers, totally dead to the world around them and Otis snoring away. “Momma,” Miles hissed, shaking her by the shoulder. “Momma, wake up, wake up!”

Kathy awoke abruptly at the urgency in her son’s voice. “Huh...? Wassup....?” she questioned sleepily.

“Momma it’s (y/n),” Miles told her.

“Is everything ok?” Kathy asked.

“Her water just broke.”

“Oh shit,” Kathy hissed.

Miles tossed her a robe and gave her a minute before the two of them hurried back to the other room. You sat on the edge of the bed, one hand on your back and the other hand holding your belly as a sharp pain slowly left your body along with a breath you had been holding in.

“Sweetheart are you ok?” Miles asked.

“Yeah but the little one wants out.....like now.”

Miles made a nervous face before your hand gripped his. You sucked in a breath between your teeth and let it out as another one hit you and Miles’s thumb began rubbing circles across your knuckles.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to stay put,” Kathy told the two of you. “Rain’s coming down hard and there’s no way we’re gonna make it to the hospital.”

“What?!” you both exclaimed.

“Relax, relax, it’s gonna be ok,” Kathy assured the two of you. “I’ve done this before, I was a nurse for twenty plus years and Otis helped me deliver Miles the night he was born.”

You looked at Miles, a little confused. “It’s a long story,” he said. “We’ll tell you later.”

You waited out the next one as Kathy ran you a warm bath and Miles helped you strip off. You let out a rather obscene moan as you lowered yourself slowly into the bath, the pain in your lower back slowly subsiding.

“You wanna stay?” Kathy asked Miles.

“Do I even have to answer?” he chuckled before he felt your hand tighten around his.

Everything started to get a little more intense as the hours wore on, Miles holding your hand the entire time and Kathy making sure that everything was going smoothly. You couldn’t have ever imagined the pain you would be in or the curses that spilled from your mouth like a Navy sailor.

“C’mon honey, you’re almost there,” Kathy assured you.

“Oh God this fucking SUCKS!” you swore through your gritted teeth.

“I’ve got you (y/n),” Miles assured you. “I’ve got you.”

“Miles,” you said tearfully. “Miles baby, I’m so sorry you’ve gotta see me like this.”

“Baby,” Miles chuckled. “I’ve seen grown men get blown up in the middle of a jungle and then limp back to camp with a missing arm or a leg. Believe me, this is nothing.”

You laughed before the pain hit you again and you instinctively pushed, your face contorting into a grimace and reddening with the effort you were putting into it. All of a sudden, you felt a rushing wave of something releasing washing over you as you let out a huge breath of relief. You felt a tiny pair of feet kicking your inner thigh as Kathy’s hands lifted a tiny little baby out of the water and into your arms.

Both you and Miles could hardly hold back the tears that had begun to flow at the sound of the baby’s cries. “Oh baby, baby sssshhh, it’s ok,” you murmured.

“Got quite a set of lungs on him doesn’t he?” Kathy half laughed.

“He?” Miles asked, “It’s a boy?”

“And he’s perfect,” Kathy told him happily.

Miles’s eyes burned with the newly formed tears that began to run down his cheeks. “Oh Momma,” he said. “Momma he’s so little.”

“Some usually are,” Kathy told him. “You were like that too and look how big you got.”

Miles tentatively stroked his son’s hair, his cries beginning to calm down as Miles placed a kiss on his delicate little head. He held the both of you in his shaky arms, overwhelmed with the sudden happiness that had sprung into his life.

Kathy finished helping you with the last few little details, helping you out of the bath and back into your nightclothes while Miles helped you back into bed. “I’ve got something for him,” Miles said.

“Hmmmm?” you hummed happily as you felt your baby boy’s head turn in to your breast.

Out of the top drawer of the dresser, Miles pulled a little blue blanket that had been embroidered with a little airplane patch. “Momma found this before she left,” Miles told you. “It was mine when I was born and it should go to him.”

A broad smile broke out on your face and before long, the baby began to whimper again. Carefully, you unbuttoned part of your strapless nightgown, letting him root at your breast before Kathy disappeared for a minute or two.

You and Miles went back and forth about a name, finally settling for “Benjamin Phillip”, Benjamin for Otis’s father and Philip for Kathy’s. Miles still couldn’t believe how tiny he was, his little hands and feet, his head. All his fears of Benny being born too early ebbed away as he watched Benny fill his empty little tummy, hardly squirming or wiggling at all until he was done.

“You wanna hold him?” you asked.

Miles looked up, not knowing what to say. “I.....yes,” he said.

Carefully you handed Benny off to Miles as he took Benny into his shaky arms. A quiet little “oh” escaped his throat, his chin and lower lip wobbling a little as he looked down at Benny. The sensation of butterflies in the stomach hit him full force as Miles felt his heart swelling with recent memories and a love he couldn’t even describe if he tried.

“Oh Benny,” Miles whispered as he cradled Benny in his arms. “You are so perfect.....just like your Momma. I love you so much Benny. You, my sweet, beautiful little boy.”

Miles kissed benny’s soft little cheeks before Benny let out a sneeze and a whimper, causing the two of you to laugh. Miles leaned back into the pillows, pulling you close against him so the three of you could rest peacefully. Unbeknownst to the two of you, Kathy and Otis had stood in the doorway of your room, completely unnoticed and both happy beyond words.

“They did so good,” Otis whispered, pulling his wife a little closer.

“And so did they,” Kathy said, smiling as she kissed her husband.

#miles miller #miles miller x reader #bad times at the el royale #lewis pullman #lewis pullman x reader

60 notes · View notes

sand-lily · 3 months

Text

in order to get paid while i dont have a school they're making me do technically training in the support office (its basically watching YouTube videos on how the smart boards and tablets at schools work...busy work)

but it kinda seems like they dont LIKE ALTs that much in the support office

theyre trying to talk one lady into taking 2 weeks off because her asthma is bad and she keeps saying that shes fine because she CANT take 2weeks off because shes out of PTO and cant afford to miss half the paycheck period

they legally cant force her, but theyve been pestering the shit out of her for more than a week

that second training i did was apparently made last second for the one guy i was in training with (but a lot of the training stuff is partner work so they had me do it with him),, and the guy in charge of the trainings was like "what makes him so special that he got his own special training say instead of waiting for the next one in October?"

even though he was looking right at the guys profile and knew he literally already lived in walking distance to the school they needed an ALT for immediately AND he already had the proper visa so it MADE SENSE to start him immediately but the trainings are legally mandated by the school board, so it MADE SENSE to just give him his own training and then let me participate so i could get paid for SOMETHING while i dont have a school

and one guy was complaining to the lady in charge of apartments that his neighbors were cooking something or using cleaning supplies or something that kept setting off his allergies and he had to go to the hospital twice and shes like "idk what you want me to do about it, i cant stop your neighbors"

he asked to move to a different unit thats also the companies in the same building that's empty and she said no because they were MAYBE moving somebody in there NEXT MONTH??? like thatd be hard paperwork?? moving the new person into his unit and moving him to the empty one???

also i saw them grading somebodys demo video and the lady grading him said "how did he make it this far in the interview, he kinda sucks and we fail 90% of the people that apply anyways" and the guy next to her said "the person doing his interview has failed 82% of the 90% that fails so he needs to pass some to keep out of trouble, but YOU can fail him"

also also, they made this whole big stink about us always being in full business suits all the time, even when the principal and teachers arnt because we are not school employees, we are business employees and representing the company blah blah blah

but NO FUCKING BODY since ive been here has worn a suit once, like they arnt wearing jeans, but ive seen slacks and t shirts or dresses with fun patterns (the only patterns ALTs are allowed are pinstripes, checkers, and polkadots)

so fuckin ANNOYING

also?? this one i took personally cus it was about my friend,,, but the other day her company car died on her while she was driving (she sent me a pic, its a real clunker, full jalopy status, basically a lemon),, and today she called the English help hotline so they could help her translate with the mechanic,, and they put her on hold and were like

"isnt there a required Japanese test during interviews?? she cant do this much?? we need to make that test harder"

like???? we need to know how to say transmission in japanese to teach kindergartners the colors????????? thats why theres a fuckin HOTLINE, this is literally your JOB youre getting PAID for

maybe give her a functional car of you don't wanna deal with this, youre already taking car fees from her check, you gotta deal with the consequenced of giving her a shitty ass car

last thing, bossman called me on Friday asked me to come at 9:00 to talk about stuff, he didn't show up at all today, so he called another guy in the office to talk about the stuff with mw instead at 1:00 (that guy keeps his phone loud, it wasn't on speaker but he was standing next to me and i could hear the whole conversation) and bossman said "she seems forgetful so i was hoping she would forget about the meeting and i could put her on probation for not showing up"

so i was right in thinking they dont actually want me here, i was probably one of the people that guy hired to save his own ass,, which makes sense kinds?? cus i get the vibe bossman is always trying to catch me in a lie by rephrasing the same questions on different occasions even though i NEVER LIED,, hes trying to find something to put me on probation

2 notes · View notes

bumblingbabooshka · 2 years

Photo

Tuvok and B’Elanna in Outfits (Maquis + Pajamas)

#its so nice just to doodle some bloby outfits #B'Elanna #Tuvok #B'Elanna art #Tuvok art #st voyager #bea art tag #I can't believe Tuvok sleeps in all that #Tuvok puts on his long sleeved sleep shirt + pants then says 'not enough' and puts a nightgown over it #also I added him wearing a vulcan durag because he would ... he cares #I also messed up his eyebroooowsss.....~#B'Elanna's Maquis outfit is so cool except I hate the boots because I just hate tall boots #I wanna give her clunkers #but I just stuck to the boot length in the reference image this time v_v #I like her hair in her Maquis outfit it looks less completely flat #B'Elanna has multiple pajama looks so I just chose the one I liked the most at the moment #bc that's basically my pajama look and I was like woooow just like B'Elanna !#I resisted the urge to give Tuvok an earring for his Maquis disguise but I don't know if my strength will remain #they both have belts....waists snatched #though Tuvok is wearing his OVER a shirt???#you can tell Tuvok is undercover bc his shirt doesn't even TOUCH his neck....

40 notes · View notes

svtwritess · 4 years

Text

finally- hjs

⇨ word count: 7.9k

⇨ genres: fluff, smut, some angst

⇨ pairing: joshua x female reader (though there’s no feminine pronouns or nicknames used!)

⇨ friends to lovers au

⇨ warnings: mentions of food, swearing, sexual content (oral, hickeys, light biting but not really idk), unprotected sex (please use protection kids please❤️)

You waited in your car in front of the office building you worked at, anticipating the arrival of your best friend who you always walked into work with. You and Joshua used to have the exact same title. You worked on the same floor, ate lunch at the same time, and even sat at the same desk. For six months, you spent nearly every working moment together, often goofing around and chatting even when you should be working. Your boss never suspected the two of you, though, as you still got all of your work done properly and on time.

However, a couple of weeks ago, you got promoted. You used to work on the second floor with Joshua, but your promotion forced you to move up to the sixth floor. You had your own office, which was good because you wouldn’t want to share a desk with anyone else in that building, but the worst part was that your lunch time got moved to an hour later than it was before. So, simply put, you rarely ever saw Joshua at work anymore and it upset the both of you greatly. You both accepted it, though, as Joshua and yourself knew that it was for the betterment of your career (and your salary).

You felt your heart jump when you saw Joshua’s sleek black car pull into the parking lot. He had been saving his money and finally splurged on a new one when his 2008 clunker finally broke down on him. You were happy for him and needless to say, he looked super sexy driving it.

You got out of your car, shut the door and locked it before heading over to where Joshua had parked just a few spots over from you.

Your heels clicked as Joshua got out of his car as well. His platinum hair was parted down the center and it was fluffy, framing his face perfectly. He wore a white, long sleeve button up, black slacks accompanied by a belt, black loafers and a nice watch that looked to be way nicer than he could afford. You swallowed, loving yet hating how amazing he looked in work clothes.

“Good morning!” he exclaimed happily, a small smile making its way onto his face upon seeing you. “Ready for another grueling day of doing something that contributes almost nothing to society for a less than satisfactory paycheck?” he asked, hugging you from the side. You laughed as you hugged him back and began walking toward the building.

“Sadly yes, I’m numb to it at this point.”

“Yeah, me too.” he chuckled as the automatic doors to the building opened for the pair of you.

You headed for the elevator and Joshua pressed the “up” button. You were already dreading saying goodbye for the day, as the ride to the second floor took less than 30 seconds.

“Are you sure you can’t take an early lunch or something? I miss you.” he said casually as you stepped into the elevator. You tried not to smile too widely at his words, knowing he meant them in a purely platonic way.

“As I’m pretty new to the position, I don’t think I should be too pushy about my schedule just yet. But trust me, I wish I could.” you pushed the “2” button followed by the “6” button and waited for the doors to close.

“Yeah, I know. Guess I’ll just keep eating with Mia,” he replied and you nearly cringed at the thought of him eating with her; she just so happened to be extremely pretty. “She’s nice, just doesn’t say much.” he shrugged and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. You were just happy she wasn’t flirting with him or anything like that.

The doors opened and you frowned as Joshua stepped out and turned to face you.

“So long,” he said dramatically as he sent you a theatrical, yet relatively sarcastic, look as the doors closed.

“Bye Joshua.” you laughed as the elevator closed and blocked him from view, your lonely ascent to the 6th floor beginning. Once you arrived, you trudged to your office and attempted to mentally prepare for another long day without Joshua.

Okay, so you had a gigantic crush on him if it wasn’t obvious, but how could you not? Working with the sweetest, funniest, most reliable, humble, and attractive guy you’d ever met almost everyday for 6 months was bound to have an affect on you. You never told him, though. You knew that he was out of your league, and that being said, you also didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship, and thus, you kept your feelings to yourself.

Your day was full of meetings and your boss grilling you about if you had done the things on her extraordinarily long to-do list. You told her that you had done most of it and would try to get everything done by the end of the day. She was less than excited about the fact that you used the word “try”, but simply stressed you that you get it done before finally leaving you alone.

She left at 4, an hour before you were supposed to, and you were happily able to tell her that you were almost done with the tasks she had given you. She gave you a smile, which was pretty impressive for her, and you continued working.

You were typing away on your computer, and had been for the better part of an hour without realizing it, when there was a knock at your door. You looked up and saw Joshua entering your office, the butterflies in your stomach beginning to swarm.

“Hey?” you questioned. He normally never came up to your office.

“It’s almost 5:20 and you didn’t meet me downstairs, so I figured I should check up on you.”

“Oh, is it? I didn’t even notice.” you sighed and leaned back in your chair.

“Busy day?” he asked as he walked into your office, placing one his thigh on top of your desk and leaning on it with his arm.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” you groaned, “but with great power comes great responsibility.” he smiled down at you sweetly, wishing he could take some of your workload from you.

“Well how about you relinquish your power for today,” he turned off your monitor, “and let me walk you to your car?” you smiled back at him and nodded. Your work was saved automatically, so you shut down your computer and gathered your things before standing up and leaving your office, your best friend in tow.

“Any plans tonight?” he asked as you made your way to the elevator.

“Just a warm shower, very comfortable pajamas, and maybe some Netflix. What about you?” you answered honestly as you pressed the “down” button, the door opening immediately.

“I think the guys wanna come over and play video games or something. You should come over too, we’re getting pizza, and you love pizza.” he said matter-of-factly, but you just laughed as you both stepped inside.

“That’s very true, but I can get my own. Enjoy the guy's time though, you deserve it.” you patted Joshua’s shoulder before pressing the “1” button and watching the doors close. The elevator ride and walk to your car was comfortably silent. You reached your less than impressive vehicle and stopped, turning to face Joshua. Before you could speak, he asked you a question.

“Hey… why do you always say no when I ask you to hang out?” he said shyly, playing with the end of one of his shirt sleeves.

“It’s the reason that I always give you,” you shrugged. “I know you have friends other than me, so I want you to have fun with them without me intruding.”

“Well yeah, I get that, but now that we don’t work together anymore...” Joshua reached up to grab your waist and pull you closer, but he stopped himself before you could notice. “Look, I’m just saying, we would all love it if you joined us sometime, so think about it okay?” he asked kindly and you nodded.

“I will. Promise.” you nodded. “But for now, there is a steaming hot cup of tea and a reclining couch in my future.”

“Next time then,” he said rather dejectedly. “I’ll call you later, okay?” You nodded as you got in your car and bid each other goodbye.

As you drove away, you wondered when you would finally take Joshua up on his offer. Maybe subconsciously you thought that meeting Joshua’s other friends or going to his apartment would make things between the two of you more serious. You thought maybe something would happen that would set your feelings for him in stone.

You were hesitant to say it was love, though, as even when you worked together you didn’t see each other outside of work much. It was probably because you were together for 40 hours a week anyway. You’d only ever gone to a bar or a restaurant after work 5 or 6 times, and you always thought that that was enough. If you thought there was even a slight chance that he would return your feelings for him, then you’d have no problem with things between you changing, but you knew he didn’t, and even if he did, you were too scared of confessing to him to find out. You had never been in love before, but what you felt for Joshua was certainly the closest you had ever come to it.

You parked in your assigned spot and turned your car off before heading up to your apartment. Though your thoughts had depressed you slightly, you got excited when you remembered Joshua would be calling you later.

When you got your promotion, you started calling Joshua at night and you told him that it was to talk about how each other’s days went, and it kind of was, but you mostly just wanted to hear his voice. Admittedly, it was one of your favorite things about him. Not only did he have incredible biceps, wide-set shoulders, an amazingly slender waist, pecks that were easily big enough for a bra, an exquisite complexion, and plush, pillow-like lips that his smooth, honey voice dripped off of.

Your thoughts of Joshua put you in such a daze that you were barely aware of the fact that you were already in your bathroom preparing to take a shower. You took off your clothes and turned the water on high heat before stepping in.

Hands. You had forgotten Joshua’s hands. His palms were large and his fingers the perfect length for.... sexual things you often thought about. You wondered how much better you shower would’ve been if only he was with you…

You tried to shake the thoughts out of your head as you washed yourself as quickly as you could, longing to put on your coziest pajamas and vege on your couch.

You hopped out of the shower, dried off and padded into your room. You hung your towel on the corner of your door and threw on your favorite shirt and pajama pants. You ran a comb through your hair and completed the steps of your skincare routine, happy that it was finally time to do absolutely nothing.

You boiled some water and made a cup of tea to calm you down for the night and put on an episode of the show you had recently started binging. You often wished you had the courage to invite Joshua over to simply do nothing with you, as it was one of your favorite hobbies, but you were afraid of what you might do or say in the comfort of your own home, and were even more afraid of getting rejected.

As you sipped your tea, you felt your eyes begin to grow heavy. Though each time they closed for too long, you shook yourself awake, as you realized your phone hadn’t rang yet.

When the episode ended, you made the decision to head into your room. After putting your mug in your sink and turning everything off, you climbed into bed. It was already 11:00pm, so you hoped Joshua would be calling soon. You played games on your phone to pass the time, until finally, a familiar ringtone filled your ears.

“Hi.” you answered the call almost too excitedly.

“Well hi there,” you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Did you have a good night?” you asked, also smiling on instinct.

“I did, the guys got too loud though, so had to end the party early.”

“Was it Vernon or the one who thinks he’s a tiger? Those are the only two I know.” you asked and he laughed out loud; you could just see the cute eye smile he had when he laughed really hard.

“It was the tiger, actually. Good job. How was your night?”

“Oh, you know, did exactly what I said I was gonna do. It wasn’t as good as I thought it would be, though.” you played with the blanket that rested across your legs, remembering how you’d wished he was with you.

“Really? Why not?” he asked and you could hear the ruffling of bed sheets from his end of the call. You went back and forth between saying what you wanted to say and covering up your true emotions like you normally do, but you decided to reply with something in the middle of the two.

“I don’t know… I guess I kinda wish I had taken you up on your offer to come over, but I definitely wouldn’t wanna play video games.” you said and he chuckled, but for once there wasn’t a trace of a smile on your face. You were nervous, as every time Joshua invited you over you wished you had said yes, this was just the first time you were admitting it to him.

“Yeah, that doesn’t seem like you,” there was a long pause, “What… would you wanna do?” he asked ever so quietly, to the point that you almost couldn’t hear his voice. The question would normally sound innocent if you hadn’t been thinking about showering with him an hour or two prior, and something in his voice sounded sensual, like he was tempting you, trying to get you to confess something. Could he have been thinking the same things as you?

“I-I don’t know, watch a movie or something,” you said as casually as you could, though you were sure the shake in your voice gave you away. Dammit, you thought. Why am I so stupid?

“Oh,” Joshua let out an awkward cough, “Yeah, that would be cool.”

You both just sat there in silence, in a very awkward silence. That never really happened to the two of you, one of you almost always had something to say and you hated the intensity of the current situation.

“I’m really tired, so I think I’m gonna go to sleep.” you told him, not sounding nearly as chipper as you did when you answered the phone.

“Yeah… yeah you should do that. It’s really late.” he said and you could hear him pull the chain of what you assumed was a lamp before settling further into his bed.

“Goodnight Josh.” you said sweetly, but hung up the call before you could hear his response.

You, too, turned off the light that sat on your bedside table and curled up underneath your comforter. Tossing and turning, you tried to rid your mind of every dirty, sexual thought you’d had about your best friend that night. You don’t know what changed, but you were acting the complete opposite of how you usually forced yourself to act. You made an effort to never think about him provocatively, yet there you were, sexy Joshua thoughts galore, and you were beyond angry with yourself. You basically prayed that things would be normal between the two of you the next day.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, you were all Joshua could think about. The entire night, he’d wondered what it would have been like if you had accepted his offer and come over. How fun it would be to play video games with you, only letting you win when you were obviously frustrated. How happy it would make him to see you getting along with his 12 other best friends (he knew they would love you). How funny he would think it was when you bragged about the fact that you were able to eat more pizza slices than him, and how excited he would be sneaking you into his room, away from all the others, teasing you until you either begged him to fuck you senseless or pleaded for him to wait until everyone left.

As much as his mind told him not to, he knew his body wouldn’t listen as his hand slid down his body until he reached his member that was already halfway hard at the mere thought of you. His mind ran wild thinking of how pretty your moans would sound, how painfully sexy you would look with your mouth around his member or your head thrown back into the pillows, and how beautiful you would look when it was all over.

You were a complete wreck. You had woken up late, seemingly taken way longer than usual to get ready, and you spilt the coffee you had brought from home all over your blouse when you pressed the brakes too hard at a red light. Thankfully you kept an extra shirt in your office, but that didn’t change the fact that you were frazzled beyond belief.

You somehow managed to make it to work close to on time, but you didn’t bother to wait for Joshua. You had to get up to your office and change your shirt before the now cold coffee seeped through to your skin any further.

Though, Joshua on the other hand, was patiently waiting in his car for you to arrive, and when he saw you walking at a fast pace, in a frustrated fashion with no sign that you would be waiting for him, he let out a defeated sigh and turned off his car. Was it his fault you were frustrated? Were you still upset at how awkward things had gotten last night? Did you somehow know about his wank session that involved endless imagery of you? He surely hoped it was none of those things, especially the last one, as he made his way up to his desk.

You changed into your spare shirt in the corner of your office as fast as you could, partially because you needed to start working as soon as possible and partially so that no one would see you. The shirt was white and much tighter than you remembered it being, almost to the point that it was uncomfortable, but you didn’t have time to have an issue with it.

Low and behold, as soon as you sat down and turned your computer on, your boss entered your office.

“Good morning, Y/N. Happy Friday.” she said professionally.

“Happy Friday to you as well.” you replied, trying not to sound as out of breath as you were.

“I have a big meeting on Monday in Chicago. I’ll be leaving on Sunday and unless you want to come in on a Saturday, I highly suggest you finish all of this today.” she said as she handed you a sheet of paper. It was a list that started at the very top of the page and went all the way down to the bottom.

“M-ma’am, I know you need all of this done, but it’s quite a lot… I’m sure there’s someone else in the office that can take on some of these tasks and help get them done much faster than I could on my own.” you said as kindly as possible, though inside you were both boiling with rage and baffled by how much she was asking of you.

“Now Y/N…” she stepped closer to your desk and raised her eyebrow, “I promoted you for a reason. Don’t make me regret it.” and before you knew it, she was turning on her heel and walking out the door.

As badly as you wanted to bury your face in your hands and cry from stress, you knew you didn’t have time for that. You went through the list and picked out the shortest tasks to do first and numbered those with a “1”, then you found all of the tasks that were on the computer and labeled those with a “2”, and finally you marked the longer tasks, such as going different places within the building and sorting through files, with a “3”. You felt much more confident after that.

You worked quickly yet diligently up until lunch time, but you weren’t even done with the shortest tasks yet. As you scarfed down your lunch, you decided you would do the 3 tasks next instead of the 2’s. You figured you would be stuck at work for an extra hour or two, so you would rather walk around the building while it was still populated.

You grabbed the files you needed and went up to the 8th floor, the top floor where your boss and other executives worked, and got a few signatures. Then, you went down to the 4th and 3rd floors to collect some forms that you needed to fill out and to get information on the meeting your boss was going to. Then you, rather begrudgingly, went down to the 2nd floor where the industrial copier was. There were a few papers that your boss needed 200 copies each of, and the tiny printer in your office wasn’t by any means capable of that.

On the elevator ride down, you tried thinking if there was a route you could take to avoid seeing Joshua at his desk, but you couldn't come up with one. Normally, you’d be ecstatic that you were able to go to his floor and would spend as much time as you could at his desk without getting caught, but you weren’t really sure if he wanted to see you after last night’s awkwardness, and frankly, you didn’t know if you wanted to see him either.

When the elevator reached the 2nd floor, you stepped out and quickly walked to the room where the copier was with your head down. You walked by Joshua’s desk, but thankfully you didn’t think he noticed you.

Once you reached the copier, you took out the 4 papers you needed and began scanning them for copies. You waited, and waited, your foot tapping impatiently, and when the machine began printing copies of the 4th paper, there was a light knock at the door.

“Y/N?” Joshua’s sweet voice called out and you squeezed your eyes shut in defeat.

“Hey,” you replied quietly, though you stayed with your body turned toward the copier.

“How are you?” he asked kindly, slowly making his way over to you.

“Bad,” you chuckled at the unbelievability of it all, “What about you?”

“Um, fine I guess. I missed you this morning…” he said and your brows furrowed.

“You were still in your car when I got here? I was almost late.” you told him, surprise evident in your voice and your eyes wide as you finally looked at him. He was wearing a white button up identical to the one from yesterday, but his pants were khaki instead of black like usual. His hair was styled off of his forehead and it wasn’t helping the state you were in at all.

“Yeah, well I like you being the first person I see everyday. Makes the thought of going to work a little easier.” he shrugged and you felt like you could cry. How was he so fucking sweet?

“Thanks Josh, I just had a rough morning. I’ll do better next week, but right now I’ve gotta get these papers upstairs.” you said as you bent down to grab the gigantic stack of papers the copier had produced and held them tightly to your chest once you picked them up. You gave him a shy smile and, finally, went back to your office.

You nearly threw the papers onto your desk and separated them, putting the pieces of paper in stacks with papers alike. You then sat down and began your computer tasks, though once you saw the time on your computer, a heavy weight fell on your shoulders. You only had half an hour of work left, and there was no way you were going to be able to finish everything in that time. Though, again, you shook it off and began working.

You typed for the remainder of the work day, feeling as if your fingers were about to fall off. You had absolutely no concept of time at that point. Had it been 1 minute or 1 hour? You didn’t know, and before you knew it, you heard a tapping sound coming from the front of your office.

“Y/N, come on. I walked alone this morning and I’m not about to walk alone now.”

You buried your face in your hands and let out a very frustrated groan.

“I can’t leave!” you nearly yelled. “My boss gave me this stupid long to-do this morning and unless I wanna come in tomorrow, which I so don’t, I have to finish everything tonight, but it seems like the more I do the longer this list gets and- God this sucks.” you were on the verge of tears, your elbows on your desk and your hands in your hair. You looked down and closed your eyes, not wanting tears to fall in front of Joshua; he’d never seen you cry before.

The room was silent for a moment, then you heard footsteps.

“Hey,” Joshua said, squatting down in front of your desk. He moved your hands off of your head and placed your arms on your desk. Red-eyed and reluctantly, you looked at him. “I’m gonna help you, okay? You’ll get everything done tonight and you’ll get to sleep in tomorrow, I promise.” he smiled a toothless, genuine smile. “Let me go get my laptop, alright?”

On a normal day, you would insist that he should go home, that it was a Friday night and that you knew he had plans and that he should go enjoy them, but you hadn’t been this stressed since you got promoted. That being said, you simply nodded and admired his figure as he exited your office.

You began attaching the forms you needed him to fill out to an email as you waited. Even though it was on work terms, you were really excited to finally have some alone time with Joshua. You wished you were feeling more bubbly, for his sake, but he knew how to handle you in any state.

He came back with his laptop in one hand and a foldable chair in the other. He walked around to the side of your desk that you were on and set up the chair next to you before putting his laptop on your desk and turning it on.

“Thank you, Joshua, really. I know you had plans tonight, so it means a lot that you’re helping me.” you told him, but he just nodded. He was always the type to help without feeling the need to be thanked, so he almost never said ‘you’re welcome’.

You were typing and clicking at a rapid pace, forwarding things to your boss and to her colleagues, making sure everyone that was going on the business trip had the information they needed. You weren’t exactly why you were the one getting things for a business trip that you weren’t even going on, but you didn’t question it as you wanted to keep your job.

At around 9pm, you finally sent out your last email. You sighed loudly and slumped down in your chair dramatically with a blissful smile on your face. Joshua looked down at you and grinned.

“All done?” he asked and you nodded.

“I feel so much better.” you admitted and sat up straight again. You placed your elbow on your desk and rested your cheek in your hand, looking toward Joshua. “Are you almost finished? I can help you with the rest.”

“Actually,” he clicked his mouse a few times before looking at you, “I’m done too.” he closed his laptop and stood up and you followed suit. You smiled ear to ear and bent down to turn off your computer. Joshua folded the chair he was sitting in and you gathered your things before finally exiting your office. All of the lights in the building were turned off, except the emergency lights, so it was relatively dark.

“You know,” Joshua began as you made your way to the elevator, “the guys don’t even believe you’re real at this point.” you couldn't help but giggle.

“Yeah? Because you keep saying I’ll come to things and then I don’t?” you asked and he let out a breathy laugh, entering the elevator with you by his side and pressing the “2” button.

“I guess so… I must’ve made you sound too good to be true.” he looked over at you, but you kept your gaze on the elevator floor, hiding your blush. Was he playing some sort of game or were you still hypersensitive from the previous night? You figured if he had something to say he would just say it, but maybe he felt the same way as you in terms of not wanting to ruin your friendship… It felt like forever, but you eventually reached the second floor and made your way to Joshua’s workspace.

He placed his laptop on his desk and you plugged it into the charger as he went to put the chair away. You leaned against his desk as you waited, not exactly sure where he went. You tapped your foot on the linoleum floor and soon Joshua was headed back toward you. Though, the way he was walking was strange. His head was down and he seemed to be twiddling his fingers in front of him.

When he reached you, you stood up straight, a look of concern on your face.

“Are you oka-”

“I love you.”

You blinked up at him. “What?”

“Uhh, I’m in love with you. I don’t know why I’m telling you this right now.” he said, avoiding your gaze.

All you could do was stand still. Normally your body and mind reacted instinctively upon hearing things, but this time you were frozen. He finally looked you in the eyes and you felt your test tighten.

“Why…” you pondered for a moment, “Why didn’t you say something last night?!” you threw your hands up in the air frustratedly and stepped away from him. His face went from nervous to confused as he turned to look at you.

“What? Why would I have done that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I was horny out of my mind?” you raised your voice slightly, and he was looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. You looked at him for a moment, then sighed, burying your face in your hands. “Sorry, that was… anyway what I meant to say is that I like you too, a lot actually, love is just a really scary word and I’ve never been in love before so I didn’t want to word it that way and I’m not only interested in you physically, even though that’s how it sounded, it just would’ve been nice to know that yesterday because I’ve been like, really lonely for a while now and would’ve potentially, no, definitely wanted to hook up or something, but anyway that’s beside point-”

“Y/N.” Joshua interrupted your extremely nervous ramble and walked up to you, your chests almost touching. He reached up and gently tilted your chin so you were looking up into his beautiful brown eyes. Before you could ask what he was doing, his lips were on yours.

You couldn’t believe it, but his lips felt even softer than they looked. His kiss was gentle, warm, and inviting, just as he was.

You put your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, wanting to feel him against you as best as you could. His tongue slid into your mouth and his hands began roaming your body. He touched you everywhere he could, as if he’d thought about what he’d do this moment on an endless loop. His hands roamed your sides, squeezing your hips with a groan before moving up to your breasts.

“God this shirt…” he whispered into the kiss. You smirked against his lips as you leaned into his touch.

“What about it?” you replied quickly, unable to believe how amazing his hands felt even over your blouse.

“It’s so,” he bit your bottom lip as he pulled away from the kiss, “tight.” you moaned into the kiss as his hands travelled down your body once more. One stopped at your waist and the other continued to your ass. “These skirts are ridiculous too.” he sighed against your lips, pushing your lower half against his. You could feel him growing hard in his pants, his member prodding against your stomach only exciting you further.

“What?” you laughed, “Are they too tight?” you raised your eyebrow. He smirked against your lips, reaching down and grabbing the back of your thighs before lifting you up and setting you on the desk. You placed a lingering kiss on his lips, “Because I’ll show you tight.” you joked and he chuckled, looking down at the floor.

“I don’t know why I thought you would be able to stay serious this whole time.” he kissed you again, only this time with more force. You kept one hand on the back of his neck and moved the other one to his chest, beginning to unbutton his dress shirt. With each button that came undone, more of his beautiful honey-colored skin was revealed.

Once his front was fully revealed, you didn’t hesitate to run your hands across his perfectly sculpted chest and down his slender waist to rest on his belt buckle. He quickly untucked your shirt from your skirt and lifted it over your head, tossing it behind you. He unbuckled your bra with ease as he kissed you, almost aggressively pulling it off and tossing it to the side. When his hands finally touched your bare breasts, he let out a long sigh, his kisses becoming sloppier.

“This is so much better than I imagined.” he grunted, the words going straight between your legs. You couldn’t use words to express how happy, and aroused, it made you to know that Joshua had just as sinful thoughts about you as you had about him.

Joshua removed his hands from you to pull off his shirt. He dropped it at his feet and returned one hand to your breast, thumb roaming over your nipple as his other hand fiddled with the zipper on the side of your skirt. He tugged it down and you lifted your body enough so that he could pull it off.

Suddenly he grabbed your hips and slid you forward, your crotch pressing against his. He leaned down and took one of your nipples in his mouth, grinding his hardened member against you. The pressure on your clit and the wetness of his mouth on your breast had you whimpering, your fingers threaded through his platinum locks.

“J-Joshua, more,” you whined, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. He sat you up straight and your hands immediately went to work on his belt. Your hands shook slightly as you undid it, your excitement getting the best of you. As soon as it was unbuckled, you popped the button open and unzipped his pants as he quickly toed his shoes off. He kicked his pants off as well and shoved them under the desk with his foot.

Your hand immediately went to palm his member over his boxers, a beautiful moan falling off of Joshua’s lips. He went from kissing your lips to your neck and you bit your lip, trying not to make the noises your body so desperately wanted to make.

You sighed before reaching into Joshua’s boxers, beginning to stroke his length. He inhaled sharply at the feeling before letting out a shaky breath. When you reached the top of his cock, you ran your thumb over the tip, precum dripping down his shaft.

“Y/N,” he moaned, “God I need to fuck you.” he let out a sigh as he rested his forehead against yours, breathing heavily.

“Then do it.” you smirked, refusing to break eye contact as you slowly slid his boxers down his thighs. You placed a light kiss on his lips and shoved them the rest of the way down. He kicked them to where the rest of his clothes were before grabbing your hip with one hand and resting his other on the desk. He leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss, continuing to lean forward until you were laying flat against the cold wood.

He kissed you sweetly as his hand travelled down your body, moving right past where you needed him most, to grip your thigh. You knew he was teasing you and you hated it.

As soon as you went to complain, his lips were kissing your neck once more. He bit down gently on your skin before sliding his tongue over the wound. You let out a moan as he moved to another spot on your neck, repeating the process on another spot of supple skin.

You moved your hands to his hair and pulled on it, arching into his touch. He then peppered kisses across your chest before moving to your breasts. He wrapped his mouth around one and his large hand encompassed the other. He sucked on your nipple before pulling on it with his teeth, the action going straight between your legs.

He sloppily kissed his way down your stomach, his hands moving down your legs and removing your heels. When he reached right below your navel, he slowly spread your legs. You were hesitant, being so exposed always made you nervous, but you were too far gone to even think of changing anything.

He lightly blew on your clit, eliciting a loud moan to fall from your lips. Your back arched and you tugged on his hair, trying to pull him closer to your heat.

“Tell me what you want.” though his voice sounded sweet, his tone was adamant. He stared at your pussy, glistening beautifully just for him. He couldn’t believe he was finally getting the opportunity to touch you, to feel you.

“I,” he ran his finger along your heat, collecting your wetness and causing you to let out a shaky breath as he trailed his wet finger down your thigh. “I-I want your mouth.” you rushed. He continued gently roaming his finger all around your lower half, though purposefully avoiding your sensitive spot.

“Want my mouth… where?” he pouted slightly as he looked up at you from between your legs.

“Joshua please don’t make me-” he cut you off by slowly licking from your entrance to your clit. He lapped at your pussy, collecting your juices on his tongue before sucking on your clit. You breathed heavily as you grabbed at his hair, whimpers leaving your lips. He kitten licked at your heat as he slid one of his long fingers into you.

“Oh my god yes,” you moaned breathlessly as he pumped it in and out of you. He soon added a second finger, curling them inside of you before pumping them a few times and repeating the process. The tips of his fingers hit your spot, and he knew it too. You clenched around his fingers and moaned louder than you had the entire night.

“Joshua…” you said quietly, stopping his hand with yours. He looked up at you with wide eyes, thinking that he had done something wrong. You brought his fingers to your lips and Joshua bit his lip as he watched you suck them clean. You put your hand on the back of his head and crashed your lips to his, the taste of you still on his tongue.

“What is it?” he whispered against your lips. You let your tongue explore his mouth as he slowly stood up. You reached down to stroke his length once more, Joshua bucking into your hand involuntarily.

“Wanna come on your cock.” you admitted and felt him smirk against your lips. You laid back down eagerly, Joshua leaning with you, continuing the kiss.

He propped himself up on one elbow and moved his other hand in between your bodies, aligning his cock with your entrance. He kissed you passionately as he slid into you, a guttural moan falling from Joshua’s lips and a high-pitched one falling from yours. He buried his face in your neck as you got used to the feeling of each other, the euphoria being better than you could have imagined.

“Okay,” you exhaled and tapped his shoulder. He slowly pulled out of you and then slammed back in, repeating the slow yet menacing process until it was clear the both of you needed more.

Joshua stood up straight, your hips tight in his grip, and quickened his pace. You could feel every inch of him, a light sweat covering your forehead.

“Harder,” you pleaded, though your voice was barely audible.

Your wish was his command as he kept the fast pace, but began pounding into you mercilessly. With each thrust he hit your g-spot, causing your back to arch almost painfully.

“You feel so good baby,” he groaned, a quiet moan falling from your lips at the unexpected nickname.

Joshua couldn’t keep his eyes off of you and his ears worked hard to pick up every sound that fell from your lips. Your breasts bounced with each thrust and he could hear how wet you were; how wet he had made you. Other than how sinfully beautiful you looked under him, the fact that he was the one who was making you feel so good was driving him crazy.

“I’m so close,” you whimpered, eyes closing as you relished in the feeling. One of Joshua’s hands moved from your waist to your clit, adding pressure as he thrusted into you. You cried out, grabbing his hand that was on your hip and digging your nails into it.

“Look at me,” he demanded. As hard as it was, you opened your eyes and looked directly into his. There was hair sticking to his forehead and a few beads of sweat were rolling down his chest and you swore you could’ve come from the sight of him alone.

The combination of Joshua’s cock thrusting into you at the perfect angle along with his finger on your clit and the face he made when you clenched around him was enough to throw you over the edge. You came around him, the calling out of his name accompanying your shaking body in its euphoric state.

As soon as you came down from your high, Joshua pulled out of you and rubbed his length along your heat, cumming on your stomach with a loud moan.

You laid there, sweaty and exhausted, your chest moving up and down rapidly. You reached up and ran your hands through your hair as Joshua opened one of his desk drawers. He pulled out a napkin and wiped his cum off of you before tossing it into the trash can.

“Thank you,” you said shyly. He nodded and offered his hand to you. You took it and he pulled you up toward him, a small smile on your face.

“See I knew you were hot, but that was insane.” he pecked your lips as you laughed.

“Right back at you.” you moved a few of the hairs off of his forehead and admired his slightly dewy features.

“Now I say,” he ran his hands down your bare sides, “we stay at your place tonight. Our first time having sex should be our first time spending the night together right? I would say we could go to my place, it’s kind of a mess.” he suggested, lacing his fingers together behind your back. You smiled up at him.

“I love you too.” you said and his face dropped.

“What?” he mirrored you with his words.

“I love you too. I realized I never said it back to you before, but I do.”

Joshua remembered you mentioning not knowing what being in love feels like and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Then, as if a lightbulb went off in his head, he made a face of realization.

“It was the dick wasn’t it?” he questioned, causing you to let out a laugh.

“What’re you talking about?” you asked as you leaned back on your hands.

“Cause before you were all like ‘oh I don’t know what love is’ and now you’re saying you love me.” he impersonated you and now you were both laughing, specifically at the chances of it all.

“It wasn’t just the sex… but I will admit it was the deciding factor.”

“Well, I’m glad you decided to return the feeling.” the conversation ended as his eyes slowly made their way from your face to your neck. “I see I left my mark,” he ran his fingers over the few hickey’s he had left near your collarbones, “Sorry about that.”

Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, your skin seemingly more sensitive than it was before. “Stop touching me or I’m gonna try and fuck you again and I would like our next time to be outside of the office.”

“So you mean like, at the park or something?” you opened your eyes and looked at him with a deadpan expression. He flashed you a dorky smile, but you just rolled your eyes, standing up to collect your clothing.

He tried to convince you that what he’d said was funny as the both of you got dressed, but you simply nodded and threw out an ‘mhm’ here and there.

As you left the office, hand in hand for the first time, you decided to stop by Joshua’s apartment so he could pick up some clothes for the weekend (he didn’t plan on going home until he had to) and to drop off his car, then head over to your place.

Once you arrived at your apartment, you took a somehow innocent shower together. Both of you were tired, but neither of you were through with feeling the other’s skin on your own. You took your time getting ready for bed, running a comb through your hair and applying moisturiser. You talked to Joshua and it felt like nothing had changed, you were still the best friends you were before, and you wondered if that meant you were in love with each other the entire time, maybe even before you ever realized you liked him.

You settled into your bed, Joshua’s bare chest under your head. He ran his hand through your damp hair as your eyelids grew heavier.

“So I guess we’re, what, together now?” he asked and you looked up at him.

“I’d like that if you would, yeah.” you said quietly, hoping that after your evening the two of you were on the same page.

“More than anything.”

He kissed your forehead and you returned to your spot on his chest, a thankful, thoroughly pleased smile on your face as you drifted off to sleep.

a/n: hi.. sooooo this is my first time writing a ~lengthy one shot and also my first time writing smut and i kNOW that it’s not very GOOD but i tried ok i promise i Will get better but yeah this is like 2/10 stars so i apologize :( i hope if anything that you guys like the storyline and/ or the dialogue or idk i hope you guys at least like one aspect about it sdjlsfjlkjsdf this was a bit rushed so admittedly it could be better but truthfully i got really excited about writing it ANYWAY!! i chose to write this based on the results from the writing preferences survey i have pinned! so if you wanna fill it out if you haven’t that would be super :^) again i hope you guys liked this and thank you so so much for reading <3

621 notes · View notes

adhdeancas · 4 years

Note

for trans man!dean, him mcfuckin dipping to totally transition how he wants then posting up at a family reunion as his badass self with Sam proud of him? also cas comes as his plus one/emotional support/husband idk

mcfuckin love how you worded this. here you go, more trans dean for everyone. minor trigger warnings for a little bit of dysphoria and a little bit of transphobia

Dean didn’t tell anyone when he went away. He just left. Wasn’t anybody’s business, and it’s not like anybody cared enough to keep up with him.

Sam was too busy with school and work, Dad was too busy being a drunk asshole, and, well, there weren’t many other people who gave a shit in Dean’s life.

The only person he told was Bobby, and that’s because Bobby would’ve hunted his ass down just to kick it if he just stopped showing up at the garage.

Sam texted every few months, sure, but Dean always got by with vague answers. He didn’t tell Sam that he was having top surgery, or going on hormones, or shacking up with a hot former-priest in Canada. Nah, not important. After all, he’d told Sam he was a dude years ago. So he shouldn’t be too surprised. Right?

Except then he has to go to this stupid Winchester Family Reunion.

“Dean, it’s going to be okay. They love you,” Cas placated him for the thousandth time. He came over and fixed Dean’s tie, which Dean resolutely batted away. He was the one used to fixing Cas’s tie. He glared at his boyfriend.

“You don’t know them.” He said quickly. He stomped over and flopped down face first on the gross motel comforter they’d rented out halfway to Bobby’s. (Dean wanted to just power through, but Cas insisted on making a road trip out of it. He hadn’t been on many.) He let out a muffled moan out of frustration.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s why we’re starting with Bobby. Baby steps, right?”

Dean sat back up and cringed at his boyfriend. “Yeah, baby steps for me and giant leaps for Bobby.” Cas smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked like a freaking doctor visiting a patient, and it was so cute Dean wanted to end the conversation and pin him to the mattress instead.

“Bobby knows you’re trans, right?” he asked patiently

“Yeah.”

“Then it shouldn’t be that big of a surprise to him that you look a little different. I mean, it’s been two years.” Dean grinned at him. Cas had a way of making everything seem so manageable.

“Sure, just a little bit different. Two boobs lighter and a beard heavier.” He gave Cas a shit eating grin and looped a leg over him, sitting back on his heels.

Cas pursed his lips, running a hand over Dean’s stubble. “I don’t know, would we call this a beard?”

Dean growled at him and leaned in for a kiss. “Hey, asshole, aren’t there better things you could do with your mouth than talk?” Cas laughed and kissed him back.

“You make a good point.”

They left the motel room a little dirtier than they found it.

---------------------------------------------

Dean spent a full minute pacing back and forth behind an old clunker before he ran up to the front door and knocked. Cas eased up from where he’d been leaning against the Impala and joined his boyfriend where he was now awkwardly drumming against his thigh. “Do I look okay? Do I look-uh-” he faltered, not sure how he wanted to look. Did he want to look like a guy? Or enough like a chick to look like his old self, so Bobby would let him in?

“You look great.” Cas reached for his hand but Dean stole it away so he could turn around when he heard the door opening.

“...hello?” Bobby asked gruffly. Dean grinned and put his hands on his hips, then down at his sides when he realized he didn’t want to emphasize how wide his hips were.

“Hi, uh, Bobby. It’s… it’s Dean?”

Bobby did a double-take, and then Dean shifted uncomfortably. He knew he was looking for what Dean used to look like in how he looked now. He cleared his throat. Bobby blinked at him. “Well, shit, Dean. You- uh- you been working out, kid?”

Bobby pulled Dean into a bone-crushing hug, laughing. Dean pulled away with just a grin just as big. “Lil’ bit.” He said, blushing. “Oh, uh,” he stepped back and grabbed Cas’s hand, pulling him forward. “This is Cas. He’s- he’s my boyfriend.” Dean was absurdly more nervous to admit he liked guys (again) than he was for Bobby to see him post-op. Would Bobby still believe he was a guy if he was queer too?

“Shit, a boyfriend? What, you got a mortgage too, you hiding a kid under that jacket?” Bobby huffed and stalked into his house. Cas seemed a little taken aback by his gruffness, but Dean just grinned and squeezed his hand. This was a good sign. They followed him into the kitchen, where Bobby was making coffee and muttering, “What, go away for a couple years and come back a man?”

Dean beamed.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean took a deep breath, and Cas squeezed his hand. He pressed a kiss to Dean’s cheek. “You’ve got this, babe.” Dean nodded shakily. He could do this.

Surprisingly, he could do this. From the second he walked in the door, Dean took no shit. Most people didn’t give him more than a glance; they didn’t recognize either of the new men. Dean looked for Sam’s messy mop of hair and made a beeline as soon as he recognized it. Easy, when Sam towered over practically everyone.

“Sammy!” Dean poked his brother in the back. “How the hell are you?”

Sam turned around, his furrowed brows loosening into a look of pure surprise when he recognized his brother. Which of course he did. “Dean!” He hugged Dean, pulling away so he could look at him. “Holy shit, you- you got top surgery?”

Dean grinned. “You know what top surgery is?”

Sam looked offended. “I research.” Dean laughed and lifted up his shirt quickly to show his scars.

“Pretty cool, right?” Cas laughed at that and Sam turned his attention to the dark haired man standing behind his brother. “Oh yeah, I brought moral support.” He dragged Cas forward with a hand on the small of his back, and Cas thrust out his hand. “He’s a grad student too. I’m sure you nerds have a ton to gab about.”

Sam rolled his eyes and shook Cas’s hand. “Hey, man, nice to meet you. What’re you studying?”

Dean zoned out almost immediately, keeping a hand on Cas out of comfort. All around the room, his family didn’t recognize him. Usually he’d have people coming up to him, Aunts screeching “Deanna!” and talking about his weight or his outfit or his hair, he’d have uncles throwing him over their shoulders and talking about last time they’d seen him when he was a little girl. Now? Nothing. Clean slate. It felt like freedom. He was him, in front of his family. For once. Then Dad walked up to him.

“Sammy, who you got there? Thought you weren’t bringing a plus one.” John asked gruffly, suspiciously. Sam rolled his eyes.

“It’s Sam. And I told you, Jess couldn’t come, she’s got too much on her plate right now.” He reminded his dad quickly that he was dating a woman right now, fuck you very much.

“Yeah, sorry Dad, that’s my date.” Dean grinned and looped an arm low on Cas’s waist. He felt Cas look at him and he swore he heard him sniff. Motherfucker was checking for alcohol on his breath. He laughed and turned to give him a quick kiss, which surprised him even more. Confidence was a helluva thing.

John was frozen in place. One of his eyes was twitching like he was overloaded with information. Which, Dean guessed, he was.

“Dad, Cas, Cas, John,” Dean said, still grinning. Sam let out a snort from his other side. Cas extended his hand coolly. John stared at him as he returned the favor, turning Cas’s knuckles white with the force of his grip. “Oh and I’m Dean, by the way, in case you didn’t get the email.”

Dean extended his hand for his own handshake, and John took it equally slowly. “So you’re just going to show up like this, no warning or-”

“Yup.” Dean said happily. “Now I was promised burgers. Where are the fucking burgers?”

“What have you done to yourself?”

“Upgraded.” Dean shrugged and fixed his jacket.

“And you’re…” He looked at Cas.

“Into men.” Dean nodded. “And women. No offense, Cas, but women are just prettier.” Cas nodded sagely, and Dean offered Sam a fist to fistbump. Sam did it with a smirk. “Guess you got two queer sons, daddio.”

John made no move. “Burgers?”

“Over there.” Sam answered this time, pointing. Dean looked.

“Oh over by Grandpa Henry? Sweet. Thanks, Sammy. Wanna join?” He looped an arm around Sam’s shoulders before he could answer and dragged his two best guys toward the food.

“Dean, hey, I’m- I’m really proud of you.” Sam stopped him and put a hand on his chest, and Dean felt a warm feeling both due to his words and the fact that Sam could pat him on the chest now without it being weird. “I know you’ve had a rough time- I mean, with everybody, with caring what they think- I’m just really proud of you.”

Dean swallowed a lump in his throat. “Thanks, Sammy. That’s all I need.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

#trans dean #dean is trans #ftm dean #destiel #deancas #sam winchester #dean winchester #fanfic #my writing #anon #ask

109 notes · View notes

maria-scribbles · 4 years

Text

glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part three

summary: while mother nature isn’t very kind to the obx, jj’s dad is even worse to him. sailor sees the aftermath, relives a day that changed her life forever, and realizes she’d be down with murder if she could get away with it. between nutella sandwiches, story time, and a shared bed, an unspoken thing slowly starts to become a little more real.

word count: 6.9k+ (oops 😅)

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings: abuse/neglect, blood, mentions of parental abandonment/gambling addiction, swearing, whump, hurt/comfort, fluff, blatant references to hocus pocus, the little mermaid, percy jackson and the olympians, and mean girls (and a teeny, subtle reference to stranger things, see if y’all can catch it! 😉)

a/n: i was so excited to write this part, not gonna lie (if you couldn’t tell, just look at that word count). hurt/comfort is my shittt and i’m a pretty big slut for physical comfort/touches so i kinda went ham with it lol. i’m also very happy to finally introduce everyone to peyton, who’s a character i really love and enjoy writing, especially her relationship with her gf alison. both of them will get some time to shine in this part, peyton in the present and alison in the past! as usual, this is unbetaed so all mistakes belong to me. enjoy!

gif credit to @sci-fi

~Masterlist~

part one | part two | part four | playlist

part three: storm surge

It rains the entire week. Scratch that -it storms: the whole island buffeted by howling winds and blanketed by a thick layer of dark and angry clouds that make life just shy of miserable. For someone who spends 99% of her time outside like Sailor, miserable doesn’t begin to cover it. And to think, it’s only the beginning of hurricane season.

The redhead props her chin in one tan hand as she leans against the cool marble counter of The Butterscotch Bonnet Ice Cream Parlor, watching the rain pound against the shop’s bay windows. Across the street she can just make out the rough, gray surf of the Atlantic through a tiny gap in between two buildings and she sighs wistfully, thinking about all the beautiful shells getting tossed onto the beach by the waves. She’s half tempted to just throw off her apron, hop the counter, and make a break for the sand, storm be damned.

She’s almost positive she wouldn’t even be missed. There isn’t a customer in sight and there hasn’t been one since she started her shift three hours ago. Peyton was still in the back kitchen, messing around with whatever convoluted ice cream flavor she thought up for this week; her boss definitely has a knack for concocting weird combinations that somehow work together, at least most of the time. Sailor thinks back to a few weeks ago when they debuted that delicious blackberry balsamic that sold out every day without fail, then followed it with a cilantro lime that was hit-or-miss (a definite miss in her opinion, as cilantro just tastes like soap to her; Peyton had just smiled her infectious smile, shrugged her tiny shoulders, and said, “Can’t win ‘em all, I guess.”) This week’s flavor involves mascarpone and peaches and she can’t wait to steal a sample because if the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen is any indication, it’s gonna be bomb, even though it probably won’t upset the shop’s namesake flavor from the top of her list.

Thinking about ice cream makes her kind of hungry, on top of the fact that she has a terrible habit of eating when she’s bored, so she dishes out a small scoop of Butterscotch Bonnet and grabs a spoon before leaning back against the counter, digging through the cup to find the best part: salted caramel-filled chocolate sea shells, made in house. The days Sailor gets to help make them are her favorite days to come to work, when she and Peyton commandeer the kitchen and have the time of their lives, blasting music and dancing as they slave away. Of course, the little bag of chocolates she gets to take home is a pretty big plus, too.

“That’s coming out of your paycheck, Sail.”

Spoon halfway to her mouth, she sheepishly glances up from her snack as Peyton emerges from the kitchen, fondly shaking her head and sending her inky black braids dancing across her shoulders.

“What am I gonna do with you?” She continues with a wink before starting to make herself a milkshake, dropping two scoops of their tiramisu flavor into a malt cup.

“Sorry, you know I can’t help myself!” Sailor knows the other girl was joking but she apologizes anyway and opens the cabinet to grab a cup and straw for her, setting them on the counter beside the old-fashioned milkshake machine. As far as bosses go, Peyton is one of the all-around best to have and the redhead loves working at her shop. While the Buckleys are rich as shit and total kooks, the family’s youngest daughter is down to earth, kind, and prefers to work hard for what she wants instead of flaunting her parents’ wealth and The Butterscotch Bonnet is proof that, despite her last name and penchant for the finer things, she’s a pogue at heart. It’s no wonder Alison’s head over heels for her.

“I also know you’re bored as shit.” Peyton calls over the sound of the blender, sending a knowing smirk toward the younger girl, who rolls her eyes and shovels another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth as she replies, “Obviously. This weather fucking sucks.”

A loud clap of thunder seems to shake the very glass in the windows and she gestures toward the storm outside, her point proven. Peyton glances around the deserted shop, still bright and cheery despite its lack of movement and life, then back to the relentless downpour, before shrugging and turning back to finish blending her milkshake. “Wanna go home early?”

“Seriously?”

“Why not? You’ve already cleaned this whole place from top to bottom and I don’t think we’re gonna be getting customers any time soon.” Ignoring the paper cup, she plops the straw straight into her drink and takes a big sip, then nods in satisfaction before adding a huge swirl of whipped cream on top.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best?” Sailor asks, smiling excitedly as she grabs her bag from under the counter and tosses her empty cup into the trash.

“Only every day,” the older girl replies cheekily, smiling as she’s pulled into a one-armed hug of thanks by her employee.

“Well, you’re gonna hear it again: you’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Peyton pats the redhead’s shoulder with one deep brown hand and then gently pushes her toward the kitchen. “Now get out of here, brat. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Sailor throws a peace sign over her shoulder as she heads out the door, cackling at her boss’s offended call of “don’t call me ma’am!” After clocking out, she fishes her keys out of her bag and dashes through the downpour to her beat-up clunker of a truck. A hand-me-down from Alison, Flounder’s nothing to look at with all the dents and chips in his blue paint, but he gets her where she needs to go and has room for surfboards in the back and two other pogues up front on the bench seat -and the other two unlucky ones riding in the bed, hiding under the boards- so she’s not complaining, even though she wishes his radio worked more than half the time.

(Two reasons why John B’s almost always the group chauffeur: the fact that he can legally drive all five of them around without breaking the law -not that they’ve ever gotten caught in Sailor’s truck but anyone with a brain knows that where one pogue goes, the other four aren’t far behind- and good music flowing from a perfectly working stereo.)

Unfortunately, it’s on the fritz today so her drive home is spent listening to the sounds of Flounder’s windshield wipers and the pounding of rain against his roof. She heads inland from the beach, away from Peyton’s shop in the outskirts of affluent Figure 8 and its kook mansions to the more homey, laid-back Cut, passing by the turnoff to the Chateau and through the woods before pulling into the empty driveway of her tiny house. The fact that her mother’s car is no where to be found doesn’t surprise her in the slightest. Waiting for her on the porch is Binx, the stray black cat she’s taken to feeding and more or less adopted, stretching on the blanket she left out for him.

“Hey, handsome,” The redhead says, kneeling down to give him a loving scratch behind the ears; he meows in response and rubs his fuzzy face against her ankles, weaving between her legs as she slides her key into the lock. “Come on in.”

The front door closes behind them with a hollow bang that echoes through the empty house like the thunder outside. Sailor hangs up her keys and follows Binx down the hall toward her room, ignoring the closed door that leads to her mom’s room and a bed that she assumes hasn’t been slept in in months. Not that she would know: she’s made it a habit to spend as few nights as possible alone in the house, instead crashing at the Chateau or Kiara’s place and hoping her mom’s comfortable in her makeshift room at The Sandbar where Carmen doesn’t have to deal with the teenager she’s supposed to be caring for (Sailor’s always been an independent girl and has no trouble getting by alone but fuck, that doesn’t mean she wants to.).

Her father’s green eyes, the same color as her own, stare back at her from a picture hanging on the wall of a better time, when everything was alright and her family wasn’t so broken; the three of them on the beach with a twelve year old Sailor in the middle and surfboards in hand. Carmen looks like the mother she remembers and misses so bad it hurts, and while Ryan wasn’t always the most caring of fathers and only acted like a dad when it was convenient, she’d still do anything to have him back, terrible parenting skills and all. She turns away from the picture and the complicated mess her heart becomes when she thinks about him, continuing down the hall to her room.

Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover her feelings about her dad, though. She’s always believed she was an afterthought to him, never first on his list but still good enough to tag along for company when he was doing something he wanted to do. He was a man who liked the idea of having a kid but never wanted to actually step up and parent when things weren’t all fun and games, instead deciding to take off to Atlantic City for a month or two at a time to gamble away whatever money they earned at the surf shop.

She wants to hate him. She should loathe him and in a way, she does. She hates the way he still makes her feel like everything’s her fault, even when he’s not around. She hates the person her mother becomes when he disappears, someone distant and cold and so unlike the good, caring mother Sailor remembers. She hates that home doesn’t feel like home anymore and it’s all his fault, and she hates that despite everything he’s put her through, all the hurt he’s caused, she still can’t find it in her big, bleeding heart to truly detest her father. After all, he could’ve been worse. So, so much worse.

The only place she can get away from everything is her room, her own little sanctuary from the cold emptiness of the rest of the house and constant reminders of Ryan’s absence. It’s warm and bright, the walls painted a sunny yellow that reminds her of lazy days relaxing on the beach. Her first surfboard hangs on the wall above her bed, tucked away in a corner, doubling as a shelf for her massive shell collection while pictures of her and her friends dangle underneath, pinned to a long piece of twine. Her current boards stand propped in another corner, leaning against a wall plastered with all types of movie and music posters. Through the windows covered with curtains as light as sea foam, the rain steadily pours but in here, she’s safe. In here, she can breathe.

Sailor strips off her uniform, tossing it along with her bag onto the chair by the door and slips out of her worn red high-tops before pulling on a pair of sleep shorts and the first long-sleeve shirt her fingers find in the closet, then flops onto her bed and pulls the soft blue blanket around her shoulders, reading glasses and well-loved copy of The Lightning Thief in hand while Binx curls up at her feet. Every summer without fail she rereads the series (why, she’s not exactly sure: maybe its nostalgia, maybe its because she lowkey relates to water-loving, steadfastly loyal Percy) and she’s fallen behind this year, so she fully intends on reading as much as she can tonight before bed. The storm provides perfect background noise and soon she’s five chapters in before a sudden loud knock on her window causes her head to snap up in alarm.

Oh no. Without bothering to save her place, she tosses the book and her glasses aside and scrambles from the bed to the window, tearing open the curtains to reveal a sight she always dreads seeing. Her best friend stands outside in the rain, soaked to the bone, hand pressed against his side, and the sight of bright red blood trailing down his face and staining the collar of his gray shirt makes her heart drop to her stomach. Wordlessly, she opens the window and helps him climb inside before closing it firmly and drawing the curtains, once again blocking the world from her -now their- sanctuary, then grabs her blanket from the bed and wraps it tightly around JJ’s shaking shoulders after he kicks off his sodden boots.

Her hand slowly moves to cup his face and her heart breaks a little more when he tenses, blue eyes carefully tracking its movement until he seems to remember who it belongs to and lets himself lean into her touch, cheek resting against her palm. Sailor runs her thumb under his split lip and and wipes at the crimson staining his tan skin, her mouth curving into a small frown when she only succeeds in smearing it further.

“Come on,” She breaks the silence with her gentle voice, barely above a whisper, and reaches her other hand out to take his, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

His fingers hold so, so tight as she leads him down the hall to the bathroom and she’s so laser-focused on the way they tremble against hers that she doesn’t notice the blood left behind on the handle when she opens the door. After flicking on the light she turns to face him and gently pushes the blanket from his shoulders with her free hand, letting it fall to the floor in a damp heap, then blindly reaches behind her to turn on the shower, cranking the heat as high as it’ll go.

“Sorry about your blanket.” JJ says at last, his voice quiet, and Sailor shakes her head, running her thumb in circles on the back of his cold hand.

“I don’t care about that, J.” She replies just as quiet and before she can stop herself, before she can think about what exactly she’s about to admit, she adds, “I care about you.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a barely-there smile and while it may be tiny, it’s a smile nonetheless and she feels the tight knot in her chest begin to loosen as she lets go of his hand, reaching for the hem of his shirt. “Can you lift your arms for me?”

He does as she asks but his pained wince doesn’t go unnoticed by the redhead when she pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it on top of the discarded blanket, and her jaw clenches at the sight of deep purple bruises in the shape of his father’s fists marring the skin over his ribs.

“Let me know if this hurts.” Oh so carefully she reaches out with one hand and gently touches the darkest mark, where she’d seen him clutching at outside her window, her fingers delicately feeling for any damages.

“A little.” He admits, shaky breath warm against her forehead and she does her best to keep her hand steady as she checks over the rest of him, then feathers her fingers back over that first bruise.

“It doesn’t feel like anything’s broken or cracked, so that’s good.” She says, allowing her hand to linger for a second before letting it fall from his side. “A rib or two might be a little bruised, though, so we’ll put some ice on them later, just in case. Sound good?”

JJ nods and watches her with those ocean blue eyes as she pulls her own shirt over her head, leaving her in a plain black cami and shorts, before grabbing his hand once again and pulling him into the shower with her. The water’s just a tad too hot and it instantly starts turning her skin red but Sailor doesn’t mind, instead choosing to embrace the heat and the way it burns everything away, leaving behind brand new skin that’s ready for a new day, new adventures. She reaches up and gingerly wipes the blood from her best friend’s face; in a mirror of earlier, he leans his cheek into her palm, eyes slowly closing while both arms wrap around her waist and pull her close.

“Sail,” He whispers her nickname into the humid air between them and she barely registers the tremble in his voice before his knees buckle, sinking them both to the shower floor until they’re face to face, sitting in between each other’s legs. He clings to her, arms even tighter around her waist and face buried against her neck, and she feels the shake of his shoulders when she winds her own arms around them. One hand moves to steadily run through wet blond hair, over and over, comforting in the best way she knows how, the fingers of her other hand tracing circles on the bare skin of his back as water continues to rain down on them like the downpour outside.

She’s eerily reminded of another time they sat like this, sobbing in each other’s arms five years ago, the first time she saw just how cruel his father could be, the first time she realized she’d do absolutely everything and anything to keep him safe, and it was both one of the best and worst days of her life.

Eleven year old Sailor shoved her math textbook into her cluttered locker and kicked it shut with a scowl. She hated math, her math teacher, and especially whoever made her schedule- who in their right mind would put math in eighth-period? She swung her backpack onto her shoulder and grunted softly at the extra weight it carried. JJ hadn’t come to school that day and Sailor had volunteered to take his missed work to him; it made sense, considering she lived closest out of the pogues and it’d make her feel better if she got to check on him herself -there was a reason the rest of the group called her the mom friend, after all.

She’d already collected assignments from the classes he shared with Pope and Kiara as well as herself, so now she was just waiting for John B to drop off his own. As if summoned by her thoughts, the brunet boy rounded the corner and waved, weaving his way to her through their fellow middle-schoolers. “Sorry, you know how Mr. Jefferson likes to go on and on and on...” He said, pulling some papers from his backpack and handing them to the redhead. “Do you remember where J’s house is?”

Sailor rolled her eyes and carefully slid the homework into her own bag. “Considering I live, like, five streets away, I sure hope so.” She fired back, ignoring his cackle of laughter as they joined the rush of students, excited for the weekend, flooding out through the double doors of Kildare County Middle School. She lingered by her friend as he unlocked his bike from the rack and then climbed on, asking, “You’re helping out at the shop on Saturday, right?”

She nodded, scanning the sea of waiting cars and waving when she spotted her ride. “Yeah, why?”

“My dad and I are gonna hang out at the beach that day so we’ll stop by and say hi.” With a casual salute in her direction he slowly started pedaling down the road, calling back over his shoulder, “Tell JJ he can come too if he’s feeling better!”

“Tell him yourself!” She yelled after his retreating back, not surprised in the slightest when he didn’t turn around and disappeared into the trees. Alison’s beat up blue truck pulled up to the curb seconds later and the older redhead leaned out the open window, a shit-eating grin on her face as she joked, “Get in loser, we’re going shopping!”

Sailor laughed and climbed into the passenger seat, dropping her backpack on the floor with a loud thump. Alison winced at the sound, raising her eyebrow as she waited for the younger girl to put her seatbelt on. “What the hell do you have in there, rocks?”

“One of my friends missed school today so I have his homework. Do you mind driving by so I can drop it off? He only lives a few streets away.”

“Sure,” Alison replied, flicking on her turn signal and merging into the stream of cars leaving the school’s parking lot. “So who skipped: Smarty Pants, Bandana Boy, or Surfer Bro?”

The eleven year old giggled at the nicknames -she’d never admit it, but they were honestly pretty accurate- and replied, “Surfer Bro. And his name is JJ, Ali.”

“Rightttt, JJ. What do you think it stands for, huh? Jesse James? John Jacob?”

“Oh my Godddddd!”

The high school senior continued to come up with names, each more ridiculous than the last until Sailor exclaimed “There!” and directed her to park near a small, run-down house on a quiet road. She pulled a folder from her backpack and was out the door before the older girl could blink, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll be right back!”

The redhead slammed the truck door behind her and made her way toward the porch and what she assumed was the front door; she’d never been inside JJ’s house but he always came out to meet them through there so she figured it was a safe bet. The smile fell from her face, ears registering the sound of horrible, angry yelling just as she brought her fist down to knock and she anxiously fidgeted back and forth on the step, her heart starting to beat fast in her chest. What the hell was going on?

"Fucking hell!” An enraged shout came clear as day from inside and as she heard the person’s stomping approach, something in her, a feeling, urged her to hide the folder in her hand behind her back. She jumped in surprise when the door was suddenly ripped open, revealing a fuming, red-faced man who glared down at her with heavily lidded eyes and one hand clenched in a fist at his side, the other holding the threshold in a white-knuckled grip. “What the hell do you want?”

“H-hi, I’m Sailor, one of JJ’s friends? He wasn’t at school today so I came by to check on him.” She said, proud of herself for keeping most of the tremble out of her voice while she studiously avoided his cruel gaze, instead subtly trying to peer behind him and hopefully catch a glimpse of her friend. The man, who she realized with sheer horror had to be JJ’s dad, was absolutely terrifying, with breath reeking of booze and mouth curled into a vicious snarl as he moved to block her view into the house and snapped, “Kid’s fine. Now get the fuck outta here.”

“Can I just see-”

She was cut off when he slammed the door in her face with the hand that had been by his side and her eyes widened, stomach sinking with dread as she caught sight of the splotch of bright crimson left behind on the wood. Oh, God. This could not be happening. She remembered John B’s warning about JJ’s dad, saying he wasn’t a very nice man when she became friends with them last year but she didn’t recall him ever saying anything about this and it hits her like a freight train: he probably didn’t know. Her heart pounded against her ribcage. If JB didn’t know then Pope and Kiara definitely didn’t and a sickening feeling started to churn her belly, both at the thought of JJ facing all of this by himself and the fact that she alone had the power to help.

Inside the house, she heard his dad resume his screaming, every other word accompanied by a sickening thumping noise she’d only heard in person once before, a few years ago on the beach with her parents when two drunk tourons started wailing on each other over a spilled beer: the sound of a fist hitting flesh. Sailor started to panic, both hands flying to cover her mouth in terror. Underneath the screaming and punching, she couldn’t hear anything, any cry or yelp or whimper from her friend and, mind racing with million terrible, awful thoughts, she turned and ran back to the truck, flinging open the door and scrambling inside to grab Alison’s arm, folder in her hands falling to the floor.

“Ali, please, we’ve got to help him-”

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” The older girl joked as she looked up from her phone, smile falling from her lips when she caught sight of the eleven year old’s pale face and wide eyes. She reached over and placed her hands on Sailor’s slight, trembling shoulders. “What’s going on?”

Her lip quivered terribly as she told Alison everything she saw and heard, watching her expression slowly twist into outright dismay, the fingers on her shoulders tightening their grip when she finished, “Ali, what’re we gonna do? We have to help him right now!”

“Fuck, okay, first off let’s calm down- don’t give me that look, kid! We can’t just burst in there like Wonder Woman or something, let me- oh, look!” Alison pointed through windshield, where JJ’s dad furiously stalked from the house to his truck, climbing inside and violently slamming the door before taking off in a cloud of dust. Sailor quickly ducked when he drove by and stayed down until the older redhead gave her the all clear, “He’s gone. That was perfect timing, huh?”

She didn’t reply or even wait for her to unbuckle her seatbelt, taking off at a sprint and bounding onto the porch in no time, furiously knocking against the door. “Hey, J, are you there? It’s Sailor.”

There was no reply and her heart dropped to her stomach. Alison joined her on the front step, her face blanching when her eyes landed on the blood stain on the corner of the door. One of her hands reached out to grab the handle while the other found Sailor’s smaller one and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Come on,” With no hesitation and the bravery Sailor wished she had, the eighteen year old pushed the door open and pulled them both into the dusky house. The younger redhead wrinkled her nose at the sight of beer cans and pill bottles littering a circle around the couch but she pressed on, calling his name as the girls moved room to room.

“Sail?” The sound of JJ’s pained voice coming from the room at the end of the hall made her heart skip a beat and she dropped Alison’s hand, running forward and bursting through the door in a rush, not even thinking about what state her friend might’ve been in. Feeling like she’d just been sucker punched right in the gut at the sight of him lying face down on the floor with a small puddle of blood forming under his mouth, she dropped to her knees beside him and delicately took his hand in both of hers, nearly crying in relief when his fingers gripped tight to her palm. Behind her, she heard Alison’s sharp intake of breath as she entered the room, darting over to kneel on JJ’s other side and place a gentle hand on his shoulder, and together they carefully helped him roll onto his back, then up into a sitting position with the older girl’s arm behind him as a brace.

Her jaw trembled as she tried and tried to say something, anything; her head was filled with so many questions -what happened, how could he do this, when did this start?- but the only thing she managed to ask was a simple, “Why?”

“It’s just what he does.” He replied with a shrug, wincing at the movement, “I’m sorry, Sail.”

“What the hell are you apologizing for?” She asked incredulously, then followed his finger as he pointed at a pile of jagged yellowish-brown pieces on the floor by his bed.

“He broke the shell you gave me.” He looked so upset, so distraught over the broken whelk and she felt her heart swell with waves of affection for her friend, who was more concerned about her broken gift than he was about himself.

“Hey,” She said softly, turning away from the mess to look him in the eye with a small smile, her hand reaching out on its own accord to brush a lock of fine blond hair away from a cut near his temple. “It’s just a shell, okay? I’ll find you another one.”

The sight of blood on his teeth when he returned her smile reminded her of the task at hand and she shook her head, wrapping her thin arm around his waist. “Let’s get you out of here. Think you can stand?” At his nod, both girls put one of his arms around their shoulders and slowly stood, shuffling out the door with all the grace and speed of an old man with two bad knees, but hey, they were moving and getting JJ out of that terrible place, so she’d go as slow as they needed to, even if her anxiety was getting worse and worse with each passing second they spent in the house.

After loading the kids onto the bench seat of the truck, Alison quickly drove them to the empty Flynn residence -Carmen and Ryan still working at the shop- and helped Sailor move JJ into the bathroom. “I’ll go grab you some towels and dry clothes, okay? I think some of your dad’s old stuff might fit him.” She said, watching as the young girl kneeled beside her friend and started untying his shoes.

The eleven year old nodded at her older friend and sent her a small smile. “Thanks, Ali.”

“No problem, kiddos.” With a quick smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes she was gone, heading down the hall toward the laundry room.

Sailor reached over and turned the shower on as hot as possible. “Okay, um, take as long as you need, I guess. I’ll wait outside.” She jerked her thumb toward the hall but before she could even take a step, his hand darted out and grabbed her wrist.

“Stay.” It was more of a demand than a question and JJ seemed embarrassed to even be saying it, the uninjured parts of his face turning an endearing shade of pink. “Please?”

She just nodded and reached a leg out to gently kick the door shut, her mind racing. She stayed but what the hell should she do now, keep her back turned? Get in the shower with him? From the way he was fidgeting back and forth and avoiding her eyes, he was probably thinking the same thing.

“Oh, come on.” She finally said after a minute or two of decidedly not looking at each other and kicked off her sandals, darting forward on impulse to grab his hand and pull them both under the spray. The water uncomfortably soaked into their clothes and made their movements sluggish as they clumsily shuffled around -stepping on each other’s toes and mumbling identical apologies- before finding a position that was only a little bit awkward in the confined space, his arms on either side of her waist and bracing against the wall, her hands tentatively resting on his shoulders.

“This okay?” She asked, feeling her cheeks reddening from more than just the steam curling around them and frizzing her hair, and JJ nodded, swallowing thickly and blinking away a droplet of red-tinged condensation that slid down his forehead. Her hand, moving on its own accord, slowly reached for his face until her palm gently came to rest against his flushed cheek, the tip of her pointer finger just brushing a small cut that sliced through one eyebrow.

“How...” Sailor shook her head, taking a deep breath before finally asking the question that’d been on her mind since this whole thing started, “How long has this been happening?”

Once again he avoided her wide-eyed gaze, eyelids fluttering shut as he answered hesitantly, quietly, “I...I don’t remember a time when it didn’t.”

His answer chipped away the last brick in the dam and the floodgates broke. She flung herself into his chest, arms wrapping around his shoulders and fingers twisting in the sodden fabric of his shirt, sobbing into the warm skin of his neck. He froze in her embrace, whole body stock-still until something in him seemed to break too, and his own arms encircled her waist, bit by bit, pulling her close as he buried his face into her shoulder and two sixth graders slowly slumped to the shower floor in a tangled mess of limbs.

“J, why didn’t you say anything?”

His body trembled in her arms and she inhaled sharply at his reply of, “Because I’m not worth it.”

Pulling away from his neck to rest her forehead against his, she cupped his face in both hands and forced him to look her in the eyes, her voice quiet but adamant, insistent as she said, “Don’t you dare say that again, got it? You are worth it. So, so worth it.”

The look behind his red-rimmed, ocean blue gaze was made of pure, unadulterated disbelief and Sailor, at a loss, wracked her brain for something, anything she could do to make him see himself the way she did: loyal, adventurous, funny, and oh so brave, already a beloved, dear friend to her in the short time she’d known him. How could she help him realize he was so much more than his father’s abuse?

‘What can I do to make you believe me?’

An epiphany came to her like a bolt of lightning straight to the heart. It was more than a little crazy and the thought of actually doing it was lowkey terrifying but she’d seen it work beautifully for Alison and her girlfriend Peyton that one time and hell, she was so desperate to help her friend that she’d do just about anything. And so before her anxious mind could start to overthink she surged forward, both hands still holding his face in a gentle grip, and firmly pressed her lips to his.

JJ’s eyes were almost comically wide while he stared, frozen still at her touch, and her own eyes were just as huge as she held the kiss for a few seconds and then abruptly pulled back, her face slowly changing into a shade very similar to her hair.

“Y-you, I-” He stuttered, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as a deep pink flush started to color the tan skin of his neck. “Wh-why-”

“Because you are worthy, J. Promise me you won’t forget that.” Her words were as fierce as the hug she pulled him into, only letting the tension bleed out of her when she felt him gradually return her embrace and nod against her shoulder.

“I promise, Sail.”

“Good.”

And with that they fell silent, holding each other tight until the shower ran cold.

Sailor didn’t know it at the time but that hadn’t been just her first kiss but JJ’s too, as they never talked about it until two years later, during a game of truth or dare with the rest of the pogues. Neither actually told the truth, both giving a vague answer about a bet that seemed to placate their friends enough to let the matter drop, never to be brought up again.

The only kiss that happens today is the light brush of her lips against his forehead as she holds him close, even as the water slowly begins to lose its warmth. His embrace is tight, their limbs intertwined so fully that it’s hard to discern where one ends and the other begins and when he speaks, she has to strain to hear the words mumbled against her neck over the pounding spray of the shower.

“I don’t know how much more I can take.”

His confession cuts her deep. Hearing him admit something so utterly heartbreaking and vulnerable, coming from the side of him Sailor alone gets to see, ignites a fury that simmers under her skin and burns her from the inside out, thoughts turning venomous and, dare she say, downright homicidal. Fuck his dad. Fuck his dad and everything he’s ever done to hurt her best friend, both with and without fists.

“If I could get away with murder, I would.”

It’s true. For JJ, she’d do anything and everything to keep him safe without hesitation, up to and including maiming his dad so he could never touch him again (and if she happened to take it a little too far and straight up kill the bastard, she’d most definitely be fine with it.). He laughs, but it’s empty, hollow, and sorely lacking the joy, the carefreeness, the pure life that it normally radiates.

“You’re not the only one.”

Some time later, after the water raining down on them turns ice cold and their tears have dried, they reluctantly disentangle themselves from each other and towel off before making a quick detour to the kitchen to grab an ice pack for his ribs and have a meager dinner of sandwiches made with the last of her bread and a near empty jar of Nutella. He laughs, for real this time, when he reads the note she writes herself on the fridge future sailor, as much as you want to, you can’t live off just nutella and sheer spite, okay? please go shopping. love, past sailor <3 and grabs the marker out of her hand, adding +past jj and a little smiley face that makes her smile brightly.

They return to her room where they change, back to back, into dry clothes -one of her dresser drawers is full of his things she’s stolen acquired over the years- and, after throwing everything wet, including their discarded shirts and blanket retrieved from the bathroom, into the washing machine to be dealt with some other time, they lie on her bed side by side, shoulder to shoulder, wrapped up together in a spare throw stashed at the bottom of her closet. Binx slinks up from his spot at their feet and lazily drapes himself across their laps, purring like a motorboat when Sailor starts running her hand along his back.

“I almost sat on those,” JJ says, handing over her glasses, “and this.” He holds her forgotten book in his hands, casually flipping through the pages before turning it over and scanning the back cover.

“Have you read it before?”

He shrugs, a barely-there grimace briefly twisting his features as the motion jostles his sore ribs. “Started it, never finished.”

“Well,” She starts, slipping her glasses on and snatching the book out of his grasp, “how about we fix that? I’ll read, you pet the cat.”

Sailor’s voice is soft and steady as she starts to read aloud, a content smile on her face that’s echoed by the boy lying beside her when she settles against his side, head pillowed on the arm he curls around her shoulders without a thought. JJ’s the near perfect listener, only snickering once or twice at her total butchering of some of the more difficult Greek names (how come she can say Hephaestus just fine but gets tripped up on Dionysus?) but otherwise hanging off her every word and the relaxed ease with which he runs his hand through the ends of her damp hair fills her with a warmth, a happiness that she can’t describe but never wants to stop.

Hidden away from the rest of the world, curled up together on her bed, they forget the day’s past horrors and replace them with bright hopes for the future, exchanging comforting touches, deliberate yet played off as unintentional, in the soft glow of the bedside lamp -a caress of knuckles here, a brush of a palm there- as she reads into the night, until the cloudy sky darkens to black and they’re both fighting off the languid pull of sleep.

“I think that’s enough for today.” He plucks the book from her hands without waiting for a response and marks their place with a gas station receipt she was using as a makeshift placeholder, and setting it on the beside drawer.

“It’s your turn to read tomorrow,” He takes her glasses off with gentle fingers as she speaks into what little space still exists between them (that’s not otherwise occupied by Binx), smiling at the slow graze of his thumb along her cheek and nestles further against his side. “I’m done botching the names of deities for a while.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Damn it, Sailor kind of hates it when he says that cause it makes her feel things that she’s not quite ready to think about yet. Thankfully, her blush is swallowed by the darkness as he turns off the light and settles down beside her, arm slung low over her waist; her hand carefully brushes against his bruised ribs over the old shirt he wears, ice pack long ago thawed and thrown somewhere onto the hardwood floor.

“How do these feel? Better?”

She feels JJ nod, his chin brushing the top of her head. “Much.” There’s a pause, long enough that she starts to feel like she��s about to nod off, then he whispers, “Thank you, Sail. I know I don’t say it enough.”

She takes a deep breath, fingers stilling on his side, “Because you don’t need to, J. Remember what I said earlier, in the bathroom?”

He nods again but doesn’t reply, instead drawing circles on the small of her back, so she takes it as a cue to continue, “I care about you, okay? You don’t have to thank me for that. I’m just...doing what feels right.”

After a beat, the arm she’s using as a pillow curls and pulls her tighter against him as he says quietly, almost shyly, “I care about you, too.”

The rain outside had slowed to a drizzle without either teenager noticing and the gentle pitter-patter against the roof casts a somnolent spell into the air, dazed and dreamy. It wraps around the pair, not unlike the way they wrap around each other, and slowly, easily, safely, they drift off as one.

let me know what you think!

taglist ❤: @jiaraendgame @hmsjiara @heavensalreadyheres @obxsummer @maysbanks @alexa-playafricabytoto @sunflowerbecca @obxlife @obx-adventures @sexualparkour @mortifiedposts @coltonparayyko @miawantsapuppy @jjmaybanky

74 notes · View notes

sulfurousdreamscapes · 5 years

Text

Usually when something moves in the junkyard, it's a rat or a wounded dog. This time, it was something else, and it was crushing the plastic and metal around it. Jodie and I were frozen with spray paint cans in our hands. The movement was just outside the light, so most of what we saw was our imagination, really.

"Let's get out of here," I said, but Jodie shook her head.

"Wait," she said and shook her can out of habit.

The heap of junk slid around, crunched, bent, dented and turned over. Jodie moved towards the heap, still shaking her can like it was pepper spray or something. I followed her, and I wondered if tonight was the night I was going to pull out my knife. Even Jodie didn't know I carried a knife with me.

Jodie turned halfway towards me. "It's a battle suit," she said. "Hear the steps? It's definitely a battle suit."

"Let's definitely get out of here," I whispered back, but Jodie shook her head again. Instead she pulled a flashlight out of her pack and held it in her free hand.

As soon as the light clicked on, we saw the thing clearly. Grey metal, rusty and scratched all over, a humanoid battle suit maybe seven feet tall, crushing the garbage beneath it like it was walking on cardboard. There were no lights on it, not even tiny leds.

"Who the fuck is in it?" Jodie asked me. "That thing looks like it's 30 years old. How is it even moving?"

"I wonder if its weapons still work," I said. Jodie gave me a death stare and I shrugged in response.

The battle suit finally found level ground and was able to walk with more stability. One of its arms was limp, and its head was struggling to turn left and right.

"Maybe it's a robot?" I asked. "I've never seen this model before."

"If you saw this model, you'd be dead," the battle suit said. Its voice was hoarse and thin, clearly of an elderly man.

"I don't think it's a robot," Jodie said, turning halfway again. "They don't give robots old-man voices."

The battle suit raised its working hand and held a clenched fist pointed at us.

We waited.

"I think it wants us to give it a fist bump," I said.

"They wrecked it pretty hard," the battle suit man said. "I can't prime my offensive systems. I can't connect to the defence net. My arm is busted. I can't move right. This is a fucking travesty."

Jodie walked up to the battle suit, shaking her spray can as she went. "Last defence net shut down thirteen years ago, boss," she said.

"What the heck is a defence net?" I asked from behind her.

The battle suit man grunted and lowered his arm. "It's over, isn't it? The war is over," the man said. "I remember staring at the sky while pain surged through my body. I thought it was over for me, but a part of me said that the suit would keep me alive. I guess it did."

Jodie whistled and stopped in front of the metal giant. "Didn't think they had life support in battle suits that old," she said. "I guess we keep underestimating history."

She raised her spray can began showering the rusty metal with bubblegum pink paint. The man in the suit stood still, like he was receiving a medal.

"The war ended like, thirty years ago," Jodie said. "You probably wanna get out of that clunker now."

The battle suit man didn't say anything. If it weren't for the breathing picked up by his mic, I'd have thought he was dead.

"Wondering what happened to your friends and family, huh?" Jodie shook her head as she curved the spraying. "I guess you don't want to find out."

After she was done, she stood back to admire her work and shook the can some more.

It was a peace sign in glossy pink, emblazoned across the battle suit's chest.

118 notes · View notes

that-one-fandom-vore-blog · 5 years

Photo

chained and bound (to this hopeless town)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

Ao3 Link

Good things happen to bad people. Bad things happen to good people. Which must mean Anna Shephard must be the best fucking person to have ever lived, or, at least, the best person left alive. Lucky her. To be fair, she hasn’t got much competition. As far as she knows, she, Steph, and Nick are the only people still alive. After a year of fighting off the undead, struggling to come to terms with her new reality, Anna is suddenly thrown back into the midst of her past without so much as a warning. Old friends, old faces, and old fears all resurface, along with zombies that seem to be getting smarter with every new day. So much for a warm welcome...

Co-written with the wonderful @thebadhalfofafandom! Warnings up here for: Flashbacks, panic elements, gore, swearing, zombies, and vore.

“Out of all the places for the damn engine to freeze up, it’s here?!” Anna shouted as she swung herself out of the car, slamming the blue painted door shut behind her for good measure. She could practically feel Nick and Steph looking at her as she stalked to the front of the car, looking helplessly down at the blue hood as if she could convince it to start up with a glare. It had been running just fine— fine enough, for the clunker it was— three bloody seconds ago, but now, fucking now, the engine had finally quit.

Anna scuffed a shoe on the ground before delivering a swift, sharp kick to the blasted thing’s tire, hard enough to send a jolt up through her foot. “Fuck,” she hissed under her breath, then again, louder: “FUCK!”

Drawing back her foot, she kicked the vehicle again. Harder, this time, squarely on the side of the door with a dull thump with enough force to chip the paint.

“You don’t have to blame the car,” Steph huffed, coming to stand beside Anna with her hands stuffed firmly in her pockets. “Blame the snow— or the idiot,” she paused, giving Nick a pointed glare, “who was driving.”

The glare she earned in return was almost as heated. “Oh, fuck off, Steph,” Nick shot back, “s’not my shitbox that got us stranded, anyway!” His volume rose dangerously at the end of his sentence, the words coming out in a near bark.

Neither of the others dignified him with a response as his boots crunched in the snow, grumbling under his breath. It wasn’t worth trying to decode anything he said— Anna had dated him before, and if she was being honest, she’d rather date a zombie. He practically was one, anyway.

...he’s gotten better.

A year of travel had done the tensions in the group good, and besides, he didn’t eat brains.

Though… as Anna watched him pace in a circle around the hood, she was beginning to doubt he even had one in his thick skull. She’d definitely rather date a zombie, and where better to find one than Little Haven? That, as far as she knew, was where it had all started…

Out of all the places to break down, why did the little blue shitbox have to pick here?

Anna’s gaze drifted from the sight of Nick and Steph glowering at the engine, which was now starting to let off a good amount of smoke, to the surrounding countryside. There wasn’t much there to see, not really, but Anna didn’t need the visual. She could see it so perfectly in her mind’s eye, the snow stained with blood, the smoke rising in the horizon. She could feel it, too, feel raw terror curling in her chest like a poisonous snake and the feeling of another hand locked tight with hers, but then it was being pulled away and she was screaming, screaming with a voice that splintered and broke—

“JOHN!”

Her grip on the candy cane she called a weapon tightened. Her heart started to beat harder in her throat, like when she’d watched— she’d just watched— as her best friend was—

Do. Not. Think. About. That.

Snapping back into the present, trying to force those thoughts out of her head— thoughts of gentle eyes and bloodied screams— Anna crossed her arms and watched with a clenched jaw as the other two bent over the hood. Steph had popped it open, and although Nick looked like he wanted to help, Anna knew Steph wouldn’t be letting him anywhere near the engine.

Sucking in a breath through her teeth, she began to saunter over. She held the plastic candy cane in a too-tight grip, though, managed to look as casual as she could. Her breath formed a cloud in front of her face as she carefully stepped closer, squinting over Nick’s shoulder to see what the problem was.

...whatever the problem was.

Was a car’s engine supposed to look so black?

The whole thing smelled like gasoline, though, and she was quick to cover her nose against the stench.

“Fuck,” she intoned again, slamming one hand down on the hood for good measure, loud enough to make Nick jump back in fright. “Fucking— god— how come it had to be here?” She moaned, unable to keep her voice from sounding far too sharp. “This has got to be the WORST place on earth—”

“Yeah, and screaming about it when there could be zombies around is a great idea!” Nick cut in, shuddering violently in the cold. “S’fucking freezing, Anna, and there’re more important things to worry about than the fact that the ruddy car broke down, alright?”

"What? Am I not allowed to be upset that the moment we get back into this shitty little town in the middle of winter, we get stranded. And now you're just standing there!” Her gaze flicked down to the weapon hanging loyally at his belt, and she gestured blindly at it. “Being all 'at least I got a cool gun now' as if that'll help us! News flash, asshole, it won’t! Not unless it’s loaded with screws!”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steph flinch.

“It’s like you’ve never even seen a car before—” she tried to joke, though, Nick’s voice was louder.

"At least I'm not screeching about it!" He hissed at Anna, who looked like she was going to beat him with her candy cane as he stalked closer. She felt like beating him with her candy cane, come to think. It’d be satisfying to just bash his head in and—

She barely realized she was raising the lawn ornament until Steph stepped between them and raised a hand in Anna’s direction. Her eyes were narrowed in a glare, and although her tone was light, there was anger flickering just beneath its surface.

"Hey ladies, why don’t we just focus on finding a place to stay rather than arguing who's being the least productive?” She asked, seemingly immune to the glare Anna shot her way. Instead, she locked eyes with the taller girl. Her hand came back to rest at her side, though, not before scrubbing over her face. “Look,” she started, taking a step back to stand before them, “this is ass, but you don’t have to be assholes about it, okay? So shut the fuck up, let’s ditch the car,”

“Shitbox,” Nick corrected.

Steph pinched the bridge of her nose and inhaled sharply. She looked almost ready to snap, though, as the engine belched out another thick plume of smoke, she sighed. “Shitbox…” she corrected, glumly, turning her eyes to the still-steaming engine as she continued, “and find somewhere where we won’t get eaten alive, okay?”

Anna didn’t answer.

Nick shuffled his feet.

Again, Steph sighed, heavier and harsher. “Okay?” She tried again, elbowing Nick hard in the ribs for emphasis.

“Fine, fine, okay— just keep your hands off me!” He sputtered, annoyance written across his face. The snow crunched under his weight as he stepped to the side, crossing his arms tightly against his chest. “So what’s the plan, then?”

All eyes turned to Steph.

The silence that fell was somehow worse than the argument. It was awkward, broken only by a few little sputters from the shitbox’s engine trying dogeddly to start.

“Don’t fuckin’ look at me like that!” She protested, though, after a moment of silence and a kick delivered to the ground, she exhaled heavily. “What about the school?”

Anna stiffened, but before she could speak, Nick shook his head.

“No. Too risky. After Savage let those fuckers in, they probably got stuck inside,” he explained. “And voila, zombie motel.”

Steph set her jaw. “What about an actual motel?”

A snort escaped Anna. “A literal zombie motel. Check-in at the front desk, gotta be out by ten, don’t mind the bellhop, he bites.”

It sounded funnier in her head. It came out too sharp, too sarcastic, and was met with an awkward sort of silence.

She coughed and looked up at Nick. “This whole town’s gonna be completely infected.”

“It’s been a year,” he returned, evenly.

“Great.” Anna’s cold glare only intensified as she started speaking again. “A year for all those things to get hungry and fester. You’d need a bunker if you didn’t want to—“

In a flurry of motion, Nick gave a shit-eating grin and snapped his fingers. “A bunker!”

Anna couldn’t help but snicker. “What, you know where one is? Got one in your backyard?”

Nick’s grin only grew. His chest puffed out with pride and as Anna watched, he put his arms to the sides. “The military base! It probably has backup generators, or at least of a lot of stuff that we can burn. Won’t smell great or anything, but the army’s fucked off from there, so the place is ours.”

"Holy shit, you're right!" Steph exclaimed. Nick’s enthusiasm was contagious, apparently. The short blonde gave a laugh of disbelief. “We could probably get there before dark, if we really hoof it.”

Anna looked up to the sun where it sat in the sky and squinted for a moment through the clouds before giving a small, apprehensive nod. “Okay,” she huffed out, before giving a soft snicker. “Can’t believe we forgot we had an airbase. It’s practically on our doorstep.”

Steph’s nose wrinkled. “It practically was on my doorstep,” she grumbled back, though, any irritation was masked with a crooked smile. “Military assholes had no concept of when was too early to be practicing their shooting.”

As the trio began to march forward through the snow, Anna gave a snicker. “Yeah, reminds me of our asshole, here.”

“Hey!”

Steph exhaled a laugh and shook her head, once again, moving to jab Nick in the ribs. “Quiet, remember? Don’t wanna attract any zombies.”

“Yeah,” Anna agreed with a cheeky grin, “‘specially not because you’re firing that thing at the ass crack of dawn.”

The three fell into an easy step together. If Anna squinted, she could almost pretend things were back to normal. It was just like they were hanging out during a snow day, really, with the small flakes that were beginning to fall and their breath fogging up the air. The snow had masked the town Anna remembered as Little Haven, masked the carnage and blood that had been there as they’d sped off in Steph’s bright blue shitbox.

They didn’t talk much, though, they didn’t need to. The place was a ghost town. Nothing seemed to move, not a zombie, nor another group of survivors. Little Haven had never been much— it was Little Haven, for fuck’s sake— but it seemed so much more barren than she’d remembered.

Because you’re remembering it before everything went to shit.

Those memories were getting blurrier. With everything she saw, every broken window, every unhinged door, they began to replace the thoughts of riding her battered bike down the streets. When things were better. Back when her and her father would make snow angels on the lawn, and John would be over, smiling that crooked smile and—

Don’t.

She quickened her step. That was the last thing she needed to be thinking about. He was the last thing she needed to be thinking about. She didn’t need to think about his dreams, or how she felt when his arms were wrapped around her and the horde was converging, grabbing at him with their spindly fingers and—

Fucking don’t.

Setting her jaw, Anna lowered her head and tried to focus on where they were going.

“This place gives me the fucking creeps,” Steph commented, breaking the silence that had been steadily growing around them.

Nick scuffed a boot against the snow. “Yeah, ditto,” he agreed.

There was an awkward silence where Anna should’ve spoken, but instead, she slung her candy cane over her shoulder. The hard plastic resting on her shoulder was a small comfort. It kept her grounded, reminding her of the fact that Little Haven as she knew it was gone. She bumped it up against her shoulder between steps, harder with every second

The sun had just begun to set as the group finally found the chain-link fence that surrounded the base. That sinking feeling that had accompanied Anna right from the start— that feeling she could only describe as Little Haven dread— had only gotten worse, and it intensified when she looked upward at the cold steel.

“Shit…” She mumbled.

She knew it wouldn’t be easy— it was a fucking military base, for Christ’s sake, it wasn’t going to be a cakewalk.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Steph took her pack off her shoulder and began to sift through its contents.

“I can’t fucking see anything,” Nick grumbled. “How am I supposed to—“

Steph hit him in the back of the head with a flashlight, ignoring the sharp yelp of protest she earned in response. “Here.” She snapped, passing another to Anna without making eye contact. Her gaze was fixed upward, and as Anna looked up as well, she saw what Steph was looking at.

Sharp spikes of barbed wire lined the top of the fence.

“So we’re not climbing,” As she spoke, Anna’s eyes began to travel along the length of the chain link, looking in vain for any sort of opening. Zombies wouldn’t be able to get in, she hoped, but neither would they…

The snow was piled high beside the posts, and just as Anna was trying to figure out if it was worth trying to climb—

“You just gonna stand there looking pretty?”

Anna flinched. Her gaze shot to where Nick had been standing moments ago, though, as she flicked on the light, her brow furrowed.

Where—

“Over here,” his voice came again, and as Anna tried to locate it, she turned her head back to the impossible fence—

To meet Nick’s gaze and cheeky grin from the other side.

“Gate’s open,” he remarked, gesturing over to his right with his flashlight beam, swinging it at enough of an arc to momentarily blind Anna.

Swinging one hand up in front of her face, squinting through a scowl, Anna managed to focus on the fence once more—

Oh for fuck’s sake.

—and the obvious gap in it where the gate began.

“You snuck in here, before?” Steph questioned, beginning to trudge forward with Anna behind her. Her pack jingled with every step, punctuated by the crunching of her boots and the steady swaying of her own, heavyset flashlight. It cut through the darkness with a wide beam that made the snow glitter.

“No,” Nick returned, “I thought about it, though,”

“Should’ve,” Anna fired back, her shoulders tensing further with each step she took past the gate, “they would’ve turned you into swiss cheese.”

The noise of mock protest she earned from Nick hit her with a wave of familiarity so sudden that it hurt. Swallowing hard against a sudden knot in her throat, Anna pushed ahead, reaching the door in a matter of minutes.

The door, like the fence, was unhinged and hanging loosely open. Anna shared uneasy glances with the other two, but not a word was spoken as she pointed her flashlight beam into the dark interior.

Rank air wafted out to greet her, sending a cold chill down her spine despite the warmth of the building. They filtered in single-file, Anna with her cane raised in one hand, Steph with her flashlight ready to bludgeon anything in the way, and Nick with his hands shakily clamped around his gun.

Their beams, minus Nick’s, which only illuminated his pocket, shone outward in a wide fan, casting long, humanoid shadows that seemed ready to come off the walls and grab them.

Anna shifted her grip on her cane. "We should split up,” she hissed out in a whisper, “cover more ground. Maybe if we're lucky we can find a new engine or car, and hopefully, get out of here as soon as possible." The last part of her sentence was lost in a whisper, more to herself than either of the others.

Get out.

Like John never did, because he’s dead— he died here, did you think about that, Anna—

“Sure,” Nick’s voice cut in, breaking her out of her thoughts, “I’ll take…” He looked to Anna, who shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” she shifted her weight before turning her light to the nearest hallway, “you can take that one, I’ll…” She hesitated, before turning right. “I’ll take this one. Steph, you can take the one on the left. Meet back up in… an hour?”

She shone her flashlight back toward the group in time to see them both share nods. She found herself bobbing her head in agreement as well. For a moment, she wanted to say something else. The air was charged, not tense, mind, but there was an energy that couldn’t be denied. She could feel it— feel it in the tight feeling in her chest and the fact that she was digging the plastic hook of her cane deep into her shoulder.

“An hour,” she said, uneasily, and before she could try saying anything else, she turned sharply to the right and disappeared down the hallway.

Her footsteps seemed far too loud. Anna trudged through the halls cautiously, trying to see with her barely working flashlight in one hand and candy cane at the ready in the other.

It didn't take her long to stumble upon a barely-open door. She quietly opened it with her shoulder, clutching both items tightly. The light weakly shone on the room’s contents, only illuminating a few feet before her. She squinted, daring to stick her arm into the room a little farther in and shining the light from side to side. It was reflected on a few objects she couldn’t make out, and for a moment, it looked like eyes—

Remember when you thought it was safe and it wasn’t? Remember who paid for it?

—it wasn’t eyes.

She knew it wasn’t eyes.

Inhaling through her teeth, Anna squared her shoulders, and stepped inside.

It wasn’t what she was expecting. As she swept the light’s flickering, shaky beam around in a wide circle, she was made aware of shelves surrounding her in neat rows, and their contents. Vials upon vials of contents. Their labels were scratched and worn, and as Anna squinted at a vial containing a bright, ugly yellow liquid, she felt a chill wind down her spine.

It was weird, how everything was just… left like this.

Some places looked completely fine, like the untouched vials. It was nothing new, truly, everywhere was a ghost town now that everyone was dead, but it still made unease creep across Anna’s skin like a cold wind.

Shuddering, she began to walk down the rows of shelves, paying less attention by the second to the vials decorating them. What use were a bunch of random chemicals, anyway? What use were—

The hook of her cane bumped against a shelf with a sharp clang, causing Anna to let out a sharp yelp.

“Shit!” She hissed, swinging her light around in time to see a vial wobbling. The liquid inside it was red, and although it quickly settled back down, she didn’t move the light away. Beside it lay a stack of papers. They were tucked messily in place beside it, dog-eared and yellowed, but still intact.

Carefully, Anna reached forward and took the packet in her hands, carefully setting the cane up against the nearest shelf to better leaf through the hand-scrawled notes. Her breath stuck in her throat when she finally managed to decipher what it said.

UNIDENTIFIED PATHOGEN CURE PROTOTYPE TESTING: TRIALS 1-10

“I knew they were working on a cure,” she whispered to herself, both excitement and anger filtering through her voice.

Dad could’ve made it.

John, too.

Nobody would’ve had to die… not Chris… not Lisa…

Even thinking their names made her heart sink.

Anna grabbed the packets, already planning out how to best tell Steph and Nick what she’d found— how maybe, maybe things could finally go back to how they’d been— when something cut through the noise of her thoughts.

A clumsy, sluggish shuffling cut through the silence, followed by a low, feral growl.

The papers tumbled from her grasp before she could stop them, though, she barely noticed. Already, she was shoving her flashlight in her pocket, grabbing her weapon, and beginning to raise it. Her steely gaze was fixed on the door she’d come in through, listening in tense silence as the shuffling drew closer… and closer…

When it finally entered her line of sight, it was alone. Just one. Nothing she couldn’t deal with. Already, she was readying herself to swing, but—

Recognition flashed across her face.

Her stomach dropped.

No.

It was wearing a tattered sweater, smeared with blood and torn in spots, but—

No, please, no...

If the brown hair and soft face didn’t give it away, that Christmas sweater with the tree and lights did.

Her best friend.

One of her only friends.

John. John Pine. Still wearing that sweater he’d been so proud of, the one that devoured batteries by the dozen. His head was cocked harshly to the right, though, as Anna tried to back away, it began to straighten out.

The second those eyes— deep brown, just like she remembered— met her own, the creature gave a little snort of excitement and began to stumble in her direction with its— his—deadened gaze fixed on hers.

“No…” Anna’s voice was soft and shaky. It felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room— like it had been sucked out entirely. Her hands felt clammy. Her heart was beginning to beat like a kickdrum, thumping through her veins at a rapid tempo. “No, please, John… don’t do this,” she begged, trying her best not to let her voice break.

John didn’t register anything she was saying. If anything, he was growling louder by the second, an awful, grating noise that rose above the panicked rushing of blood in her ears. It was barely human— hardly a noise she could ever picture him making— but it was escaping his throat regardless as he shuffled closer and closer to his potential meal. His gait was shambling, closer to a limp than the goofy stride Anna remembered—

He was limping before it happened, don’t you remember? He fucked up his leg and then—

Anna gripped her candy cane tighter. She had to kill him. If she didn’t, then he’d rip her to pieces. Zombies were vicious— all of them were vicious beyond repair, they were hardly human anymore—

But John isn’t—

The creature before her gave another throaty growl. His whole body seemed to wobble unsteadily, as if he couldn’t decide which direction to walk, or if he could even walk at all. Everything about him was wrong, clashing so horribly with how she remembered him. She was frozen to the spot, looking into those eyes that were so familiar it hurt, those same eyes she’d looked into before the horde had converged on him and she’d screamed, screamed so loud her throat had hurt—

“JOHN!”

Struggling to inhale, Anna began to back away. She kept her weapon raised, the wicked, plastic hook up over her shoulder, trying to ignore the way her hands trembled and the fact that the memory was rising in her mind faster than she could hope to block it out.

“LET GO! L-LEMME GO—”

Another set of arms wrapped around her. She tried to beat them back, her body shaking. Her hands were clenched in tight fists. Her legs kicked out wildly as she tried to get her footing, broken, terrified sobs catching in her throat.

Nick’s voice was loud, but not louder than the noises, the sounds of a horde beginning to feast— “No, Anna, no! Leave him!”

Her eyes welled with tears. She had to kill him. He wouldn’t want to live as a zombie. Living as a zombie wasn’t living at all, surely he’d known that, he’d had to have known that. Her only option was to swing but…

“Leave him.” Nick had said again, ignoring the way her hands beat against his side.

She couldn’t. Her grip loosened as she backed away at a faster pace than before. Fuck, she was useless.

She could feel her throat closing up as she tried to find an exit, not taking her eyes off the creature— it’s not John, it’s not, stop pretending— shambling toward her. His head was cocked to the right, mouth slightly open, glossy eyes boring into her own. She felt her stomach lurch at the sight of dried blood smeared around his mouth, her insides turning to water. Bluish, broken veins decorated his cheeks, and when he gave another lurch, right hand swinging downward, her gaze tracked automatically to the vicious bite embedded in the back of his hand.

The same sort of bite that he’d use those crooked teeth to give her.

“John?” She choked out in a whimper, frantically searching his eyes for any recognition. He was closer. There were only a few feet between them, and that distance was closing fast.

“Please, you don’t have to do this, please...” Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she gathered what little courage she had left and screamed: “JUST GET OUT OF HERE—“

Anna’s back slammed against one of the shelves before she could process what was happening, barely having enough time to register, the various glass vials on the shelf began to crash at her feet. Chemicals splattered across her coat and shoes, and as she tried to stumble away, momentarily forgetting the zombie—

Something crashed against the back of her head. Things went dark immediately.

They were quick to flicker back in a mess of disjointed sounds and messy colours that blurred and spun drunkenly around her. Spots were dancing across her vision, and as she blinked blearily and tried to focus on the overwhelming, dizzying sensations, she was made vaguely aware of something pooling around her.

All over her, actually—

Shit, my head—

Everything was too slow. Raising one hand, frantically feeling her hair, she gave a sharp gasp as the feeling of something liquid—

Blood or chemicals—

Shit, both are bad—

And if the shelf fell—

With a wince, Anna struggled to get to her feet, feeling as though she was forgetting something, addled mind fighting to put it all together and—

Wait, what about—

“SHIT!” Anna’s eyes snapped open remembering the zombie in front of her, but she wished she never opened her eyes. Everything was… wrong… horribly wrong. Her frantic eyes shot to the shards that were around her feet— should’ve been around her feet— and the puddle that looked more like a small lake than anything.

Her heart leapt into her throat.

The shards littered around her, their wickedly sharp points glinting in the low light, were longer than her arms. They were longer than she was tall, which was impossible, and how—

How much had been in those vials?

How hard had she hit her head?

This CANNOT be happening.

I can’t be—

A sudden sound from above caused her blood to run cold.

Shit.

Her hands felt clammy.

Shit, shit, shit.

Frozen in place, whole body trembling, Anna shakily began to look up… up, up, up…

Her heart plummeted to her shoes. Her grip on her plastic cane suddenly felt weak—

At least I got something my size...

She managed to think through her panic. Her face paled exponentially, all the strength she had draining from her in one fell swoop. She tried to open her mouth, to scream, to cry out, to beg for her life— anything— but no sound escaped her lips, save for a strangled squeak.

This can’t be happening.

He was huge.

John had always been taller than her, that much was true, but the zombie before her was easily a giant. He didn’t seem to be looking directly at her, though, and as Anna watched, paralyzed by fright, she realized he didn’t seem to see her. His glassy eyes were out of focus, trained on the shards around her, and although he was growling— a horrid, awful sound that shook her to her core— it was quieter than before. Confused.

Hope flickered to life in her chest.

Maybe he can’t see me.

Was it possible? Maybe his eyes had decayed enough that he wouldn’t bother with her, or maybe she was too small for him to care. She just had to get out of his way and then—

Another growl shook through her. Louder this time.

No—

Her small victory was quickly cancelled out as suddenly, John’s eyes locked onto her form. His lips began to curl back in a snarl, showing off a dizzying array of teeth that used to smile the sweetest, most crooked smile—

A snarl vibrated through her chest. Panicked, Anna tried to stumble away, her fight or flight instinct finally kicking into high gear. Her little body chose flight.

She stumbled forward, boots slipping in the puddle surrounding her. She skidded, terrified at how quickly the tables had turned— she’d been bracing herself to kill him and see his blood speckle the floor but now—

Anna tried to tighten her sweat-slicked grip on her weapon. Her vision was blurred, though the panic coursing through her veins was making things sharper. Everything was picking up to speed with her racing heart, and as she helplessly skidded, she could feel him getting closer.

No, no— NO—

She couldn’t outrun him. She was too small, now, and her head was pounding with every second that passed.

Panicked beyond belief, voice shaking, Anna forced herself to meet his gaze, looking in vain for anything familiar in those hollow eyes. “John—”

That’s not John, he’s gone, he’s not there—

“—p-please!” She stammered, “I-It’s me, it’s— it’s Anna! You— W-We— We’ve been friends for— for years, years, John, PLEASE—”

Her words broke into a scream as John lurched forward. Stumbling backward, brandishing her weapon as though it would help, Anna let out another broken plea.

“NO! P-Please, John— you— you have to remember me, I— You— You were going to go to art school, a-and I was gonna go to Australia—”

It seemed like a distant dream. Australia. Art school. Things that had mattered before the world as they knew it had ended without any warning.

Her throat began to close up. She sucked in a sharp, frantic breath through her teeth, trying to say something— anything— that wouldn’t end in her demise—

He reached forward. That hand— that monstrous, discoloured hand riddled with bluish veins— was inches from her, and the distance was closing.

“Y-You jumped in front of a horde just to save my life!”

Do you remember his hands around your waist? When you were calling to him? He wasn’t answering.

The hand less than a centimeter from her face. Instinctively, she put her hands up to her face and gave a sharp, guttural cry: “PLEASE DON’T KILL ME!”

He would rip her to pieces in seconds. He’d use those same clumsy hands she knew so well to tear her from limb to limb, those teeth would pierce her, and her blood would speckle the floor and—

She screwed her eyes shut tight for good measure at the crunch of glass under one of his feet coupled with the sliding of fabric across the floor.

He’s kneeling.

Her stomach twisted in a knot. She had seconds left to live, seconds left to muster a final plea, or an attack, or even an escape, but—

A soft, rumbling noise rolled through the air, close enough to make her whole body buzz with the sound, then…

Then, nothing.

Nothing at all.

...what?

Anna slowly lowered her hands, after a few quiet, tense moments. Her breathing was quick and sharp. Why… why was she still alive?

Why hadn’t he killed her?

His hand was still there, his huge fingers poised and ready to snatch her up without a second thought, but—

They hadn’t.

He hadn’t.

Questions began to swarm in her mind, but above them was one desire: to get away.

Stumbling under her own weight, Anna made it about three steps back before a shard of glass met the bottom of her boot. It skidded along with her, prying a startled yelp from her throat and prompting her to swing her arms out for balance.

John flinched. That hand that had been so close to brushing her skin shrank back.

Anna’s mind was beginning to race as she looked into John’s eyes, her balance still somewhat wobbly. Her confusion was clearly written across her face.

It didn’t make sense.

Is he—

She couldn’t let herself hope.

No.

Impossible. He’s probably just wondering if a small human is just as satisfying as a normal-sized human.

She didn’t want to believe it. Those eyes seemed lucid— they looked so much like his that it hurt. A knot formed in her chest. Her legs wobbled like those of a baby deer as she forced herself to keep her eyes locked on his, ignoring the fact that his veins were too prominent, his teeth almost unnaturally sharp.

He’s just sizing me up.

A cold chill spread across her body. Her instincts were screaming at her to run— he was frozen, for fuck’s sake— it would be easy enough to make a mad dash for cover, but no matter how she tried, she couldn’t force herself to move. Her fingers weakly twitched at her sides. She felt like she was going to throw up.

Trying to stand, sitting up as well as she could, Anna felt her whole body sway unsteadily. The room spun in a nauseating fashion, everything around her blending in a mess of nonsensical swirls that immediately brought her back to her knees.

Shit, definitely concussed.

That was the last thought Anna had before that hand reached out to her again. Accepting her fate, Anna looked down, closed her eyes and hoped it would be quick, but… that moment never came as she noticed. She gave a small gasp at the feeling of something touching her, something cold and almost clammy that started at the top of her head and trailed its slow way down her back. She held her breath as it stopped, then repeated with a tad more certainty.

It took several seconds for her to realize he was petting her.

Petting?

Why would a zombie—

Why hasn’t he hurt me yet?

Daring to hope, Anna looked up, trying to get her vision to focus on the soft, concerned eyes of her friend. It seemed so familiar. She wanted so desperately to believe that he remembered her, but it was impossible… right?

Struggling to find her voice, Anna managed to quietly, incredulously ask: “Am I dead?”

The petting stopped. Those eyes she knew so well were hidden by a slow blink for a moment, and then John did something that made her heart skip a beat. He shook his head. Like a human would. Like he was alive.

Anna’s eyes widened. “Wha— c-can you—

Slow down.

Taking a deep breath, she tried again. “—do you remember me?” She asked him, hardly daring to hope. It was probably just a twitch, and her size had distracted him from thoughts of eating her, that had to have been it—

He nodded. That soft face she remembered sported a small, crooked little smile that she could recognize anywhere. Twitchy and uncertain, sure, but there.

Before she knew it, she was sobbing. All of the anger, sadness and regret she held for the past year overwhelmed her. Her throat ached from having shouted at the creature before her, her sobs coming out in hoarse sounding barks. Her tears ran down her cheeks faster than she could try to wipe them away. She was vaguely aware of a soft, concerned grumble and forced herself to look up again through her tears.

“N-No, I— It’s not your fault, I— oh my god, John—”

Another bout of wracking sobs made her chest ache, causing John to pull his hand away. His brow was furrowed, his eyes tracking her every move.

Anna tried to wipe her eyes and gave a broken laugh. “I-I’m just so glad to see you again after all this time!”

Glad was an understatement. Her legs wobbled as she forced herself upright, stumbling toward his hand unsteadily. “A-And you— you remember me, you— it’s really you, I—” She swallowed hard against the knot in her throat. “—I can’t believe this, I— what’re the odds?”

One in a million. One in a billion. Less, even.

Laughing again, close enough to his hand that she could’ve reached out for it if she wanted, Anna finally caught her breath. The adrenaline— that giddy rush that had surged through her— was fading. “The only thing that could make this any better would be if I… was…”

Wait—

“Normal sized!?” Her voice took on a sharp lilt of confusion as, yet again, another reality crashed down on her like a ton of bricks. “Holy shit, what the fuck happened to me?!”

She watched John’s shoulders give an unsteady shrug.

“I— How—”

It must’ve been that cure. The vials she’d knocked over her had done it, but how it had happened was beyond her—

She was snapped out of her thoughts by the sensation of John’s fingers curling around her waist. A breath caught in her throat. She gave a sharp, frightened gasp and clung tight to her weapon, the ground suddenly so, so small. His whole body swung uncertainty, and although his fingers weren’t too tightly clasped around her, Anna’s chest felt too tight. Her head was still throbbing away. She couldn’t find her voice.

Shit, no—

He wouldn’t. John wouldn’t—

But a zombie would.

Fear began to spike through her, but she managed to give a small whimper of: “J-John?” Using her free hand to bat at his fingers, she tried to grab his attention, but all she earned in response was a little grumble. Her whole world pitched dangerously as he stood, causing her to squeak. This was terrifying. She was so high up— John had always been tall but this was taking things to a new level. One hand wrapped tight around her cane, the other in a tight fist, Anna felt her stomach lurch as he got to his feet.

Christ, they were high up.

Anna managed to get in a sharp breath before John’s grip on her abruptly switched, depositing her on the surface of his palm. A small rumble shook through her, and as she looked up, she nearly yelped. He was so close, close enough for her to feel his breath.

Zombies breathe?

She’d never been close enough to find out— nobody ever had, without getting bitten or ripped to shreds, but as the seconds ticked forward, she realized that John was just… watching. He didn’t blink, but his warm eyes were trained on her, his brow slightly furrowed.

She exhaled.

It’s fine.

You’re fine.

“Right, o-okay, I—” Shakily, standing as well as she could, she turned her head and forced herself to look down at the mess she’d created. The liquid looked almost like blood puddling around his feet, and as she squinted—

Wait—

The papers she’d dropped weren’t soiled by the puddle. They were a little crumpled, splashed in spots, but otherwise fine.

A cure. They were working on a cure.

Turning back to face John, she gestured down to the papers on the floor. “Can you grab those papers?” She asked him, continuing to explain as he tilted his head and focused his bleary eyes down where she’d pointed. “Th-They were testing all this shit so it’s gotta be recorded. There’s gotta be a way to reverse this!”

Both the zombie thing and her reduced height…

Clinging to John’s thumb for balance as he bent over, Anna watched him fumble with the papers for a moment before—

A growl shot through the silence, followed by another.

John’s hackles raised near instantly and he stood back up with the papers in his grasp with a sudden, jerky motion that caused Anna to yelp.

“Shit, the vials!”

Of course they’d heard the crash— fuck, she was an idiot— and now they were going to come and rip them to shreds—

Would they attack John? He was one of them, and maybe that would keep him safe, but Anna certainly wasn’t, and now that she was bite sized—

Shit.

“We gotta go!” She urgently instructed, earning herself a nod from John.

She didn’t do a thing to protest as he carefully drew her closer to himself and began to take one limping, shuddering step after the other. Was it fast enough? Her mind was racing from one panicked thought to the next, and the speed of them only intensified with every step he took toward the still-open door.

Please, please, c’mon…

She inwardly begged, holding John’s thumb in a deathgrip, trying to see if anything was coming their way.

They were mere inches from the door when the first zombie made itself known, lurching so suddenly into their field of vision that Anna let out a shrill scream and shrank backward. Its lips were pulled back, thick, black strands of drool oozing from its open jaws, and it wasn’t alone. More and more began to pour through the entrance in a swarm, some of them still sporting military garb.

No, no, please—

John began to growl, the noise low and grating, making Anna’s ears ring and her headache thump harder. His grip on her shifted.

Hundreds of scenarios began to race through Anna’s mind, each one more brutal than the last. There wouldn’t be any escape, and they didn’t seem interested in John at all. She’d been reunited with him for nothing, and soon, she’d either be one of them or nothing more than a red stain on the floor, and nobody would ever know—

Before her thoughts could even finish, John’s fingers once again closed around her waist and she was suddenly lifted, that nauseating feeling of being picked up too fast causing her head to spin. Trying to focus, legs swinging wildly, cane nearly slipping from her hands, she realized she was being dangled above John’s face.

More specifically, his mouth. Her panicked gaze met his own.

“J-John,” she stammered, “what’re you—”

She was cut off by the intimidating sight of John’s mouth opening beneath her, those teeth that seemed inhumanly sharp mere inches from her feet. She barely registered the thunder of his voice, though, once his maw was closed, she processed the one word he’d managed to wheeze out.

“Safe…” Even though voice was thick and gravelly, like he had just had woken up dehydrated, she understood.

But… what did he mean, “safe”?

Heart lurching into her throat, Anna struggled to cling onto his fingers. “Wait, wh-what are you talking abou—” Anna didn’t have any time to wonder what John meant before, without warning, his loose grip on her was gone entirely.

Down she plummeted.

A strangled scream escaped her throat. She looked down, and as she was being dropped—

His jaws opened to greet her, wider than before, displaying in horrific detail the inside of his maw and his pink, quivering tongue.

“JOH—”

The rest of her protest was lost in a wheeze as her little body hit a slick, foreign surface. She hardly had time to register what was going on before her surroundings went dark with a snap that caused her to let out a shriek and ball up. Her body was shaking, and as she forced herself up onto her hands and knees, she nearly lost her balance. The ground below her—

That’s not the ground, that’s his tongue, you’re in his MOUTH—

—shifted and slid as she frantically tried to process what had happened. There wasn’t much light, but it filtered between his lips enough for her to see the faint, pinkish tongue beneath her and the terrifying, pointed shapes of his teeth fencing her in. Her heartbeat was rapid, her breaths short and laboured.

Why—

Why did he—

I thought he wouldn’t—

Was it a trap? Anna felt like she was going to be sick as the muscle beneath her shifted, sending her sprawling onto her front once more. Saliva was pooling around her little frame, and as she struggled to get up— to claw and punch and kick everything she could reach— an annoyed sort of grumble rang through the space, loud enough to make Anna clap her hands over her ears. The tongue beneath her curled slightly, the edges of it pushing on her sides and keeping her confined to the middle of his mouth despite her squirming.

The noises it made were making her repulsion grow by the second. The muscle squelched beneath her weight, and there was another annoyed little grumble before something smacked against her side. Something hard and plastic.

My cane!

Rolling sharply to the side, Anna snatched it up and moved to stab him with the sharpened end, trying her best to stand in the cramped space. She ended up bent awkwardly in place, her shoes sinking into the fleshy surface beneath her, her back pressed up against the roof of his mouth above her.

Bracing herself, Anna tried to force his jaws open from the inside to no avail. Saliva dribbled down her sides in thick strands, enough to make her shudder violently. She began to shove at the surface above her harder, digging her nails in—

Everything pitched hard to the right. Anna’s legs gave out from under her, and clutching her candy cane tight against her chest, she landed on his tongue with a squelch, giving a sharp gasp when everything turned to the left, then right again, almost as if he was shaking his head.

Shit, my head.

The throbbing feeling was getting worse by the second. Struggling, landing a good hit with her heel to the flesh beneath her, Anna moved a hand to clutch at her wet hair.

This concussion isn’t going to get any better if he keeps doing that, not that it’ll matter if he doesn’t let me out!

When she pulled her hand away, thin strands of drool connected it to her head. Her hair was practically slicked down to her, and as her eyes adjusted to the dim, faint light filtering through his teeth, she realized the rest of her was hopelessly soaked as well— her jacket, her shirt, her tie— covered in saliva.

What the fuck—

Is he—

Is he fucking TASTING ME?

Terror surged through her once more, though, it was quickly followed by a rage that bubbled over her and made her ball her hands into fists. “JOHN!” She shouted, bringing a fist down as hard as she could manage on the tongue beneath her, “LET ME OUT! I KNOW YOU’RE STILL IN THERE! PLEASE, PLEASE SNAP OUT OF IT!”

For a moment, everything stopped.

She lay there, panting, covered in spit and feeling absolutely disgusting as the surface beneath her curled over her side once more.

“John, please…” She whimpered, moving to crawl further toward the front of his mouth. All he’d have to do was open up his mouth, and she’d be home free—

Before she could say anything else, Anna was suddenly pressed against the roof of the mouth, squishing all the air out of her in a sharp wheeze.

No, NO, NO NO NO—

Everything tilted back. Anna dug her fingers into the surface of John’s tongue in vain, panic rushing through her veins. She kicked and squirmed wildly, though, with a soft squelch, she felt the muscles of his throat begin to latch onto her legs.

Her eyes widened.

A deafening gulp muffled her scream. She was forced back faster than she could grab anything. Her desperate, reaching hands skimmed one of his huge teeth before disappearing into his gullet entirely. The light disappeared instantly, and although Anna couldn’t see, she could still feel the powerful muscles of his esophagus engulfing her tiny frame.

“NO!” She was forced downward at a rapid, terrifying pace. Her arms were pinned up above her head, and with each tug from the slick muscles, more slimy substances connected with her body.

“NO, N-NO, JOHN—”

Another swallow cut her off, the muscles around her squeezing the air out of her lungs and making the panic coursing through her intensify. She could barely move. The darkness was smothering her, alive, squeezing her every inch of the way down—

Her legs were free.

Eyes widening, knowing what it meant but refusing to believe it, Anna tried one more time to claw at the walls of his throat, but it didn’t matter.

With a final squeeze from his gullet, Anna dropped onto a cushy surface. She managed to land on her knees, her panicked eyes darting this way and that in the darkness. Everything was eerily still and quiet, the only thing she could hear the quick pounding of her heart.

He couldn’t have.

Her chest felt heavy. Slime dribbled down the back of her neck, making her shudder violently.

Where else could she be? Her senses were on overdrive. She was painfully aware of the feeling of sticky saliva clinging to her body, but also aware of the noises surrounding her— soft gurgles and growls, uneven, shaky breaths, and—

A low thumping from above her.

His heartbeat.

He just put me in and…

God, she couldn’t even think it.

...like I didn’t even matter?!

Her best friend— someone she’d thought was dead, had eaten her. Whole and alive. Her days— her minutes — her seconds were numbered. How long did it take a zombie to digest? How long did she have to breathe the stale tasting air and wait for acid to melt her into nothing?

A gurgle echoed through the fleshy chamber, loud enough to make Anna jolt and grasp her weapon—

I still have it.

Without hesitation, she dug the pointed end of it into the stomach’s floor as hard as she could manage, standing on wobbly legs. She braced herself against it, driving it in deep before tugging it free with a sickening squelch.

“NO!” She snarled, stumbling forward, ignoring the dizzy feeling that came with standing up, “I am not dying in some SHITTY TOWN,” she punctuated those words by driving the sharp end of the cane into the closest wall, “in some BROKEN DOWN BASE,” she pushed it in further, “where NO ONE WILL KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!”

Running on sheer desperation, the shrunken survivor used what little strength she had left to drag the sharp tip through the wall of flesh, feeling her entire environment abruptly tense around her. A growl rolled through the space, making everything vibrate.

It only encouraged her to continue.

Removing the edge, Anna began beating him with the blunt end, hitting him over and over again as if the cane was a baseball bat.

“If you want me to stop” she hissed through her teeth, “then LET! ME! OUT!” She hit him with every word, choking up slightly as she did.

Those three words suddenly made it all real. Her whole world began to crash down around her, the realization coupled with the churning motions of the stomach around her enough to bring her to her knees.

She was stuck in this horrible small town. She was in a worn down military base. Her friends wouldn’t know what happened to her. She was tiny. And she was in the stomach of one of her closest friends.

Anna Shepherd was going to die.

Her grip on the candy cane loosened to a point where it slipped from her fingers, though, she barely noticed as it hit the fleshy floor beside her. Her eyes began to sting from tears. There was no joy in them. Not this time.

Alone in the dark, alone with the realization that John, her closest friend, the person she would feel safe to talk about anything around— the person who helped her through her mother’s death and always, always been by her side, the person she cared for the most—

Another organic rumble from the stomach around her sent a cold chill through her body.

John was going to kill her, and nobody would ever know.

As the adrenaline faded and her limbs grew weak and heavy, Anna began to curl into a ball, her hands shaking violently. She wanted to scream out to him, or hit him with the cane as hard as she could manage, maybe even carve her way out. If she just managed to claw hard enough, she could do it, couldn’t she?

All she did was let tears trickle down her cheeks and curl up tighter. What else could she do?

She was alone. Stupidly alone. Had Nick or Steph been there, they would’ve been able to bludgeon him and this whole thing never would’ve happened. They wouldn’t just give up, either, they’d fight with everything they had and then some, but…

She was so tired. Her head was pounding at a mile a minute, and her limbs felt so, so heavy. She was going to pass out, soon.

And I’ll never wake up again.

Before the darkness behind her eyes engulfed her limited vision of the soft walls surrounding her entirely, Anna managed to choke out a sentence so quiet, it sounded like a breath.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you…” She whimpered.

Then, there was nothing but the darkness and a low, slow heartbeat thudding above her.

77 notes · View notes

lowkeyhockey · 5 years

Text

accidents (how we went from friends to this) - part ii

Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Female Reader

Warnings: No sexual content, but Sid is 19 and reader is 16 (which is the age of consent in Canada)

Author’s Notes: Part II of Accidents, which is in turn part of the Can I Go (Where You Go) verse, but can be read as a standalone. I bumped this up in my queue because my gift exchange fic is killing me, and because someone asked me to :D i am # weak.

Summary: Y/N gets Sid to attend prom with her, even if she insists on calling it a grad formal. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

----------------------------------

"Missing your grad formal's one thing, Squid," you tell him, and your cheeks are hurting from grinning so wide and you're probably looking like an idiot, but that just means that it's alright that your words match. He's grinning back at you, teeth still too big for his face and his hair getting a little too long, but he's grinning and this is great.

"You're not allowed to miss mine."

Which doesn't make sense, you know it doesn't, but it's allowed. You've been good all year - you've been good your whole life, really - and what most of your classmates see as a boring pre-after party event you see as a chance to have fun. And Sid's actually – down for your dumb high school shenanigans.

He doesn't even mind your fiddling with his bow tie, a deep midnight blue that matches your dress, even though there had been nothing wrong with it and you both knew it.

It's like, tradition. Or at the very least a cliche. If this was a movie, your mom would be tearing up and shouting at your dad to get the camera, and your dad would be ignoring her and trying to fix a steely eyed stare on Sid until he like. Promises to bring you back before curfew or whatever.

It would have been nice, is the thing. But you have this instead, and honestly – it's perfect.

"You could have taken me if Sid didn't wanna go," Taylor calls down from the stairs, as though hearing your thoughts, somehow managing to push out the words through the biggest pout you've ever seen on her. You step away from Sid to reach up for one dangling sneaker - curling your fingers around Tay's ankle and giving it a light squeeze. You take it as a good sign that she doesn't kick your hand away.

"I wouldn't have asked Sid if you could have been my date instead," you promise her, trying to look appropriately serious, but it's hard to push that through your grin.

Which – okay, you're lying. If the dance wasn't 16+ only you would have asked both of them to be there. You would probably have made a girls' night of it with Taylor, with Sid playing the part of the exhausted chaperon he was clearly destined for.

Sidney Crosby: the second coming of Hockey Jesus, and world-weary chaperon to his sister and her best friend. It’s good for a man to have two destinies. You're pretty sure that at least 0.5 of your destiny was to keep the great Sidney Crosby grounded.

Judging by the look on her face, Taylor's not, like, intensely convinced, and you look to Sid for some emotional support only to find him mirroring her expression. Only he looks even less impressed somehow, which is impressive enough for you to pat his cheek with your free hand.

(Your parents aren't there to take a picture of you but Trina is, and that's the first picture of the night: she was coming down the stair behind Taylor, and catches a shot of you holding on to both Tay and Sid. God, but you'd been a Grade A Clinger.)

--------------------

"Really thought you've moved me up from second-string, for a moment there," Sid tells you as he opens the car door for you, and you'd been standing closer to him for pictures just five minutes ago but he still gets to you, this way.

His smile is kind, the last time you saw him so dressed up in person was at the draft last year, and there's something about his hair that makes you want to run your fingers through it. It's because of one or two of that, or because of a combination of all three, but you lean in to kiss his cheek before you slide into the car.

(He's cleaned up nice - you kind of miss the scruff - but his aftershave more than makes up for it. )

It's his mom's car, he's not so big a hotshot that he keeps a car just for summers in Nova Scotia. You love the familiarity of it. You wish Sid would buy one of his own here anyway, even if it's just a secondhand clunker, just so you know he'd keep coming back.

You tell him as much, grinning as you promise him that you'd be more than happy to babysit it for him while he's off setting new records in Pittsburgh, and he snorts at you but keeps his eyes on the road like the responsible driver that he is. You only wish you could be as focused, and not on his profile.

The curve of his smile, even from just his profile, is such a familiar thing to you. It warms your chest, makes your heart work double-time (presumably to work the heat off), makes you reach over to rest your hand against his thigh.

It's all muscle, under your light touch. Sid's been spending his summer pretty much alternating between working out and eating enough to feed about three lesser athletes, and the knowledge of it warms your cheeks. And then Sid reaches down to cover your hand with his - which is not at all responsible driver-y of him - and you're suddenly warm all over.

"Can you grab the cooler in the back? There's water in there," he says, interrupting your thoughts on - what? how solid he felt under your hand? But you're impressed all over again.

When you reach around to dig through the cooler, though, you find that he wasn't kidding about the water - there's nothing but bottles of water and chunks of ice in there, just when you thought Sid's decided to pregame with beer or - wine, or vodka, or whatever.

He's the pro-athlete, not you. You don't know what people drink to get turnt at parties.

"You're such a dork," you tell him, too-fond about it as you fish a bottle out and open it to take a sip - careful to brush away lipstick marks after - before offering it to him. He shakes his head and you close the bottle again, putting it in the cup holder between you.

"Don't want you hungover tomorrow," he says, and it's your turn to shake your head.

"Can't get hungover if you don't get me something to drink," you point out, teasing, and he laughs. "Useless," you add, the word too fond to be mean, even though you'd tried your hardest.

When you lean back into your seat, hands clasped neatly in your lap like you're afraid of wrinkling up your dress somehow, it's his turn to reach over between you, his hand resting warm against your thigh.

"That's not my job, Y/N. Besides, the water came in pretty handy already." There's a steadiness in his gaze - unexpected, unfamiliar - when he glances over at you, holds your gaze for just a moment. "You looked a little overheated there."

You're blushing properly then - you can feel it, you're hoping it's not too visible in the early evening light - and he looks - like he's thinking about it, or you, or the way you're acting like an idiot even though he's just there as a friend.

"Eyes on the road, Sidney," you manage after a moment - too long a moment, maybe - and he's shaking his head at you again, still with that non-expression expression on his face that you don't quite know how to read.

When did he even get that look? God knows Sidney's never been complicated.

He loves hockey, loves his family, loves you - at least a little, but he has to, with how many hours he's spent listening to you bitch about college applications and problems with your basketball team or friend groups or lab partners. He works hard, and takes care of the things and the people he loves. He - when the fuck did he get hot?

You're still confused when you look away, look out the windshield for the first time since you got into the car, realize then - with a sharp jolt of embarrassment - that he'd only been looking at you because of a red light. It was only fair, considering how you'd been staring at him the whole way there.

--------------------

Despite the hand he has around yours, you're separated as soon as you enter the hotel ballroom your school's rented out for the dance. You give his hand a quick double-squeeze - your standard signal asking if he wants you to set up an escape plan - but he responds by letting yours go, turning with an easy grin to greet some of the guys who've run up to crowd around you.

There's guys from the school baseball team, some guys you know used to play street hockey with him, childhood friends dressed up like James Bonds and Bond Girls. Sid transferred to Shattuck's in like, grade 9, but everyone still knows and loves him. Everyone's still proud to know him, and you know Sid's still a little confused and a lot thankful for all the support, and you're more than happy to share him.

It's an excuse, anyway, to run and catch up with your girls, barely giving enough time for everyone to gush compliments over everyone else's dresses and hair and makeup (never mind that you had all gone shopping together, and that most of the girls had gotten dressed up at Annika's place) before catching everyone's attention by blurting out, lingering embarrassment still too strong to be subtle about it, "is it me or did Sid get hot?"

You're met with a couple of blank looks, a couple of raised eyebrows, look slowly around the circle your bodies make for a face that has an answer when strong hands spin you around - it's Sara, in a black feathery dress and thick eyeliner that makes her eyes look huge despite the narrow-eyed look she's giving you, hands like clamps on your shoulders.

Or maybe you're - being oversensitive. You feel about ready to vibrate out of your skin, antsy and uncomfortable, and unhappy about it. It doesn't overwrite or replace the giddy happiness you'd felt getting dolled up at the Crosbys' house, exactly - it just rests on top like a blanket, or like a layer of powder, changing the look of it.

What is it with things changing?

God help you - are you finally panicking about graduating, about moving away from your friends and your halfway-empty childhood home, about starting anew like you've been wanting to for years?

Sara's hands tighten on you in a steady double-squeeze, and just like that, you feel your anxiety fade away. She's been your captain for both basketball and softball for like, three straight seasons. She knows better than almost anyone how to get you to cut your shit out.

When the slow grin spreads across her face, though, it's your turn to narrow your eyes at her – you know how to get Sara to cut her shit out, but she's a lot more trouble than you are, and you had plans on actually enjoying your grad formal.

All she says, though is a sly "aren't you glad you didn't figure that out until after you asked him out?"

and you're set to - scold, or protest, or agree when you feel a hand press against your back, large and warm and solid.

You know who it is without turning around - you recognize his aftershave, you realize with something like slow-growing horror - but you're saved from having to ask him how much he'd overheard by the girls jumping in - and God, everything in the world could be changing but you'd still have your girls, and thank fuck for that.

Annaya's dating someone in his draft year, though the guy spent the season in the AHL, and she starts off the shit-talking by teasing him about his penalty minutes. It's not mean, is the thing - the girls know to stay away from asking him about the shitty end to his season - but you still worry, just a little.

You lean, just a little, against his side, just to feel if he was tensing up or feeling uncomfortable, and he slides his arm around your waist in easy acceptance.

--------------------

You tell him about it after, because of course you do, because he's one of your best friends in the entire world and there's no one you'd rather have gone to the formal with, because his hands on your waist as you sway together on the dance floor could be made a deadly weapon, because his warm breath against the side of your head makes you feel antsy all over - but in a nice way.

And you don't want anything to spoil this night for either of you.

When you give in to it - you've never been a coward, of course you were going to give in - it's with an exhale that's almost a sigh, and Sid makes a questioning sound in the half-second before you shift to rest your head against his shoulder, relaxing even more completely in his arms.

It feels like completion, like belonging.

(And you don't really feel brave enough to look him in the eye ask you're asking him this, but ––)

"You know you got hot, right?" you ask into the side of his neck, voice soft. He starts a little, but when he starts to pull away you give him a light pinch through his tux jacket. You smile against his neck as you do it, both hear his surprised laughter and feel it all around you, and melt deeper into him.

"You totally do, you asshole," you say, and you're laughing along with him. It feels better this way, with that out in the open. "Give a girl a head's up next time, eh? You almost gave me a heart attack, when you opened the car door for me."

"When we left my place or when we got here?" he wants to know, and you let out a small huff of amused disapproval.

"You know I was like, drooling, by the time we got in the car." Lucky thing he'd brought all that water, come to think of it, because you'd been thirsty. You can feel him blushing, heat coming off him in waves, practically, but that's alright - he'd gone and packed a ridiculous amount of water. He can re-hydrate later, it's fine.

It's not vey eco-friendly, but still very much appreciated.

"You look gorgeous too, you know," he says, and he sounds - careful, for a reason you can't quite wrap your head around. Not that you want to look into it too deeply. You prefer making another disapproving sound, briefly lifting your hand from his shoulder to physically brush his words away.

"I'm not fishing for compliments, Sid."

You pull back to look him in the eye, to flash him a quick grin, ignoring the disapproving sound he lets out himself. "Besides, I spent two hours getting ready. Ten, if you count dress-shopping and the spa day and everything. I know I look hot."

"So it's just that I'm not allowed to look nice," he teases, voice low - and when did his voice get low?

"Hot," you correct, because of course you have to. It's - honesty, or just the principle of the thing. His smile grows at that, and you have to feel that with your free hand, have to let your palm curve against his cheek and your thumb brush against the corner of his lips.

"I asked you for a friend-date, you know. Not a date-date." You can feel his expression shift at that, under your fingertips, and you wrinkle your nose back at him. "That's how I asked, I mean. But I don't really feel like being just friends, not right now."

He studies you for a second, his hazel eyes warm and serious at once, looking like he's trying to understand you. Looking like he's wanting but uncertain, like he's the innocent high school student being propositioned by an older man. And - you're not speaking Greek, Squid, Jesus.

"I like you, you know I love you, but -" and you wave those words away, too, before something else breaks.

"But you're not looking for anything serious? Dummy," you tease, because come on - you wrote the script for him yourself, years ago, for each time Sid tried to do normal teen things like go out for dinners or to the movies or to the rare school formal with a pretty girl and would end up with having too-high expectations from said girls placed on his shoulders.

"I'm not either. You're a hotshot NHL player, you're going to kill it in Pittsburgh, and I'm already so, so proud of you." His brows are furrowed, just a little, and you pat his cheek - twice, light, just enough to get him to focus.

"Don't go fishing for compliments, Sid." You pause, considering it, then add, "your hockey's always been hot – I guess it was just a surprise to think you're hot like this."

"I've always thought you're beautiful," he says, because he wouldn't be Sid - your Sid - if he wasn't constantly trying to one-up you, but you preen - exaggerating it just a tiny bit - under his words.

"I know, it's a terrible burden." But let's get to complimenting your brains. "Anyway, I'm going to uni soon, and I'm not going to be doing it in the States." For one, you're pretty sure Taylor would kill you for even considering it. For another – you don't want to.

You've been aiming for most of your life to earn one of U of Toronto's iron rings, and everyone - Taylor and Sid especially - knew it. Dating a NHL player - even if he's, like, the future of the league - has no part in your five year plan.

The thought of your future makes you tense up, just a little, the familiar anxiety gnawing away at your edges, but that just makes this feel even more right by comparison.

"I love you as a friend, but this doesn't really feel like just a friend-date anymore." Because Sid might be the one halfway to hotshot-dom but you're still the one who's going to have to keep this on track, probably. You fix your gaze on his - gaze steady, gaze wanting, something like shyness to it but the shyness is overwhelmed by everything else.

"So when we get out of here, do you want to do some date-date stuff?"

He grins then, a little shy and a little amused, and wanting, and you grin back, feeling brave about it.

#sidney crosby imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #sidney crosby #pittsburgh penguins #pens imagine #v:can i go (where you go)#s:accidents (how we went from friends to this)#lyss writes hockey

59 notes · View notes