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kamoniwa · 4 years

Text

⟼ a little madness

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: yokai!kuroo/demon!akaashi/human!reader/werewolf!semi

⇢ au: college!au

⇢ summary: you, your friends, and some friends of your friends all get tricked by one tendou satori into visiting an abandoned amusement park for halloween. it turns out it isn’t ghosts you need to worry about, though.

⇥ kinktober masterlist

⇢ warnings: gangbang, noncon to consensual, lots of reluctance, mind break if you squint?, technical temperature play, unprotected sex, creampie, the boys are real gentle in breaking you down

⇢ word count: 11,695

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: don’t really think noncon is my forte but practice makes perfect. is the pairing self-indulgent? fat yes. does this fic make total sense? not really sure. did i have fun writing it? hell yeah. also big thank you to @ishuzoku for helping me come up with the flyer bc my og id was garbage lmao.

Furrowing your brows, you looked at Tendo with a mix of exasperation and unadulterated dismay.

“An abandoned amusement park. On Halloween?” Kaori asked before you could, eyebrows disappearing into her bangs. “You cannot be serious, Tendo.”

If he was put off by your reactions, he didn’t show it. If anything, he was probably relishing in it, and said, “Yes, yes I am. It’ll be fun. Come on, do you really just wanna get drunk at a boring house party on Halloween?”

You snorted at that, stirring your coffee as you said, “As opposed to getting murdered at an amusement park? That’s like, straight out of a horror movie, Tendo.”

“You guys are so boring,” he whined, slumping forward across the table. Shirabu grumbled under his breath, glaring at Tendo as he nudged his drink closer to Shirabu’s textbook. “Look, it’ll be so cool! Exploring all the abandoned funhouses and imagine how freaky the haunted houses will be! Just think about it, okay?”

The looks everyone exchanged said they had and had already made up their minds, but you nodded anyway, if for no other reason than to appease him.

A moment later, your alarm went off and you bid them goodbye, walking towards the door with Shirabu for your next lecture. You were sure as shit not going to an abandoned anything this weekend.

Except somehow, against all odds, you were piled up in the back of Konoha’s car, crammed beside someone who had been introduced to you as Akaashi Keiji. He was a friend of Bokuto’s and Konoha’s and, upon hearing about your adventure, asked if he could tag along. If you had to peg him, he was more the librarian type than a ghost hunter type-- soft spoken and well mannered with pretty blue eyes that closed slightly when he smiled.

In the front seat were Konoha-- driving-- and Yachi, currently fighting with the radio and Konoha’s phone.

In the car behind you was someone named Kuroo-- also a friend of Bokuto and Akaashi-- Kaori, Goshiki, and Semi-- a friend of Shirabu, Goshiki, and Tendo. Kuroo was almost ecstatic to be going, but Semi had seemed like he would rather be doing anything else as he climbed into the passenger seat of Kuroo’s car.

The car in front contained Tendo, Bokuto, Yukie, and-- god bless him-- Shirabu. You were sure he was losing his mind as Tendo guided him towards the location of the amusement park. The details on how exactly this had come about were lost on you, but you vaguely recalled a drunken bet made two nights ago and a video that Tendo refused to share properly, but assured you was proof that the group had agreed to the terms of said bet and then lost. Spectacularly. Supposedly.

“So, how did you meet everyone?” Akaashi asked, turning to look at you. The scenery outside was turning quickly from civilization to wilderness, the trees growing thicker the further you drove until you couldn’t tell one trunk from the next.

Humming, you rested your chin in your hand, bracing your elbow on the door. This was the worst part of meeting someone new during a trip-- tedious small talk. But you had to start somewhere, so you said, “I met Kaori in one of our classes and ‘Toka-- er, Yachi--” The girl turned around at the sound of her name and waved. “-- is my roommate. They kind of introduced me to everyone else.”

Truth be told, you weren’t sure how they had become your core group of friends. From loud and boisterous Bokuto to sullen and taciturn Shirabu, you adored all of them, but you had had your own group of friends before meeting them. Most of those old friends had faded from sight as you found yourself absorbed in your new ones and, while a part of you felt bad, it was just a part of life.

“What about you?” you asked, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “How do you know them?”

Konoha snickered from the front seat and Akaashi cut him a glare before turning back to you. “I’ve been friends with Konoha, Bo, and Tetsuro since highschool. Kaori and Yukie were our managers,” he said.

Konoha made a turn onto a road who’s name sign had long since fallen off the rusty pole, and you wondered just how far out you had traveled. It didn’t feel like it had been long since you left, but you recognized nothing around you and there was no sign of life.

“So, everyone but ‘Toka and I were friends in highschool, huh?” You chuckled. “What are the odds?”

Akaashi laughed with you, fiddling with his fingers as he turned back to look out his window.

The car was now filled with the sound of music, overtaking the silence that fell between the four of you. Konoha was focused on driving and you knew Yachi was more than a little nervous-- you had almost expected her to back out and accept whatever payback Tendo had planned for it afterwards.

“Do any of you guys know anything about this place?” you asked, leaning forward and resting your chin on Yachi’s seat. Through the windshield, you could see Tendo’s shaved head and Bokuto’s spiky locks in the backseat, and worried for poor Shirabu’s sanity. “How did Tendo even know this place existed?”

“It’s an old legend,” Akaashi spoke up softly.

Both you and Yachi turned to look at him, the latter’s breath hitching because everyone knew when those words were said, the story was going to be unpleasant.

Konoha cursed as he hit a pothole, muttering Tendo’s name under his breath as he righted the car between the faded lane lines, and Akaashi smiled at that before looking back to you.

“I doubt most people have heard of it,” he began, popping his knuckles one at a time. “It’s more of a local thing, really.”

“Well then how do you know about it?” you asked curiously, quirking a brow. You knew Bokuto grew up in Tokyo, which meant Akaashi had as well, and you were well outside of the city limits.

Akaashi smiled, tipping his head to the side and for the first time there was something other than soft indifference in it. “I enjoy these types of places and legends. It’s a hobby, you might say. This particular amusement park was meant to be scary in nature and didn’t stay open for long due to unexplained deaths and disappearances.”

Yachi squeaked, and you cast her a glance before resting your hand on her shoulder. This was probably not the best story for someone as easily scared as she was, but it was too late now, and you knew there was curiosity beneath the fear.

“That sounds way too vague,” you said, lips curling up at the corners. “That’s what everyone says about places like this. It’s not scary.”

Your skepticism was met with laughter and he said, “True. The police at the time pinned the problems on faulty attractions or poor background checks, saying there must have been a serial killer hired without anyone realizing. Sounds to me like they just couldn’t figure out what was causing it.”

You rolled your eyes, nodding along. If the park was as old as Tendo said, it could really have been faulty attractions, but you weren’t buying the serial killer story. It sounded too far-fetched compared to being crushed by an unstable support beam.

Akaashi continued, voice dropping in what might have been a scary attempt at atmosphere if the sun wasn’t framing his pretty features in a golden glow behind him. “The locals all said that the place was haunted, too many deaths had built up negative energy, trapping the spirits of those killed there. Unable to escape, they grew angry and the deaths continued until authorities labeled the park unsafe and banned any more visitors. And then--”

“What the hell?” Konoha cut him off, hitting the brakes a little harder than necessary.

Akaashi’s seat belt locked and he grunted, rubbing at the new red mark on his neck as he asked, “What’s going on?”

“Dunno,” Konoha replied, putting the car in park. “Sorry about that. Shirabu is getting out of the car.”

The car behind you pulled up as you were getting out, eyes wide as you watched Tendo lay a map out on the trunk of Shirabu’s car.

“We’re lost,” you said, sighing in exasperation.

A tall figure blocked out the sun in front of you and you squinted up into the face of Kuroo. He was giving you a catlike grin, ruffling his messy rooster hair as he said, “Sure seems that way, princess. This place is in the middle of nowhere. I’ll be surprised if we even find it.” He guided you over to the car where the others were gathered, snickering at the look of surprise on your face. “What?”

“You know about this place too?” you asked, glancing at Akaashi on the other side of the car. He cast you a small, closed eyed smile. “Akaashi was telling us about it in the car.”

Kuroo chuckled, raising a brow at his friend. “Yeah, being friends with Akaashi has its share of hazards.”

“Look, I’m pretty sure we’re here,” Tendo said, interrupting your conversation. He was pointing to a small line that looked just like any other on the map, aside from the major roadways and cities. If he was right, you were a decent ways out of the city and your watch read 1:01pm. “If we just follow this road and then this one, it’ll lead us straight past the village and to the park.”

Shirabu looked skeptical, spinning the map around to look at it as well. He wasn’t exactly wrong but how could he really tell? All the smaller roads looked the same and they couldn’t even confirm the name of the road because there was no sign. It had also been ages since they last saw a house or even another car, so asking anyone was out of the question too.

“This is stupid,” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. No one besides Tendo really wanted to be there-- he ignored the fact that Kuroo was just as excited as his weirdo friend to be going and that Akaashi had jumped at the opportunity as well-- and it would be so much easier to just turn around and go to Hinata’s party. “We should just go home before we get lost.”

Tendo frowned at that, sharing a look with Kuroo before saying, “We aren’t lost*. It’s not much further now. Just trust me.”

The others were all inclined to agree with Shirabu, you included, but arguing with Tendo was like arguing with a brick wall-- pointless. He had already tricked you into agreeing to this endeavor and at this point backing out would be both a waste of time and gas. Shirabu was too smart to get lost anyway but, if you were lucky, Tendo was wrong and you wouldn’t be able to find the place at all.

“Do you really think we’ll be able to find it?” Yachi asked once you were safely back in the car.

Akaashi hummed beside you, but you said, “God I hope not. I was looking forward to Hinata’s party and if we get back quick enough we might still make it.”

Konoha looked at you in the rearview, eyes crinkled as he snickered. “What, are you scared, _____? Afraid the ghosts are gonna get ya?”

Scoffing, you dug through your bag for your phone. A check an hour ago had revealed one bar, but now the words ‘No Service’ blazed across the service banner. “No, I’m not scared. There are just a thousand better things to be doing that than breaking my neck on rusty amusement park rides.”

“Sounds like cowardice to me,” he answered, laughing at you through the mirror.

Sticking your tongue out at him, you turned back to the window, sighing as the scenery passed by in a blur. Konoha and Akaashi talked a lot about volleyball, Yachi pitching in occasionally. You knew she had managed her highschool volleyball team and knew everyone else in the group to some degree, but most everything sports related went over your head.

Still, Akaashi made some effort to get to know you, asking about highschool and what classes you were taking. You told him about your major and asked what his was, finding out he was a literature major and constantly busy, explaining why you had never met him before. He, Kuroo, and Semi were the busiest out of all their friends, often skipping out on get togethers in order to study, work, or-- in Semi’s case-- practice with his band.

A little while later, while Yachi and Konoha were having a heated discussion about their favorite subjects, you caught the first glimpse of something besides trees. Turning to look out the windshield, you saw brake lights already lighting up and the car began to slow.

“Well, we found the village, at least,” Tendo said, reading the faded sign displaying the name of the town. “I didn’t expect it to be abandoned too, though.”

Everyone was gathered in the middle of the road, looking down the mainstreet of the village. Windows were busted out and boarded up, paint faded on rotten clapboards, and roofs missing tiles or riddled with holes. The street was littered with potholes and the whole town had an eerie sense of unnatural quiet. Everyone shifted on their heels, slowly making their way back towards the cars without a word and piling in.

Even Tendo looked unnerved.

The town disappeared behind you but in the distance you could see the towering track of a roller coaster above the treeline. Even from so far away you could see that the paint was faded off of it, the sun filtering through clouds and casting the whole area in shades of grey. To you, it seemed like the forest was darker, the trees packed more closely together, and your heart began to thump in your chest.

“You okay?” Akaashi’s gentle voice asked in your ear. His hand landed on your shoulder, colder than expected, and you shivered underneath his touch. “You look like you’ve already seen a ghost.”

You nodded, looking over to find him giving you a look of amused concern, one corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile. “Just nervous. That town was creepy as hell and it freaked me out a little.”

“Me too!” Yachi squeaked from the front seat, turning around to give you a pleading look. “Don’t you dare leave me, _____.”

Laughter filled the car then and you patted Yachi on the shoulder. “Wouldn’t dream of it, ‘Toka.”

The towering sign for the park appeared up ahead and the car fell silent all over again as brake lights lit up again. Broken glass and gravel littered the parking lot, which was smaller than expected for how big the park looked.

Everyone seemed to hesitate on getting out of the cars. Tendo was the first, followed by Kuroo, and then Akaashi. Like it was a signal, the rest of you followed, Yachi clinging onto your hand and Kuroo and Akaashi seeming to stand behind you protectively, close enough that you could feel warmth radiating off them.

“Do we really have to go in there?” Goshiki asked, eyeing the ticket booth with disdain. The paint on it, like everything else, was faded, the wood rotten and the window and door busted out. The latter creaked on its hinges, filling the still air with an unsettling noise that mixed with the faint sounds of creaking metal and leaves fluttering in the wind.

Everyone shuffled back towards the cars a little at his question, but Tendo took a step forward, resting his hand on the turnstile. “Since we’re actually here, may as well take a look around.”

Without another moment of hesitation, he hopped over it, peering around with an unusually quiet interest. It was the first time since you had met Tendo that he had nothing to say, his already pale face seemingly devoid of color, making his vibrant, sleepy eyes pop out even more.

Groaning, you, Shirabu, and Goshiki stepped forward, dragging Yachi with you as you climbed over the turnstile as well. You couldn’t just let Tendo wander off into the dangerous park alone. The others followed suit, muffled whispers and conversations floating through the air as they spread out in the area.

The forest had started taking back over through the concrete, weeds and grass sprouting up through the cracks and pushing the cobblestones up and out of place. Vines of ivy and moss hung from the powerpoles, vendor booths, and some attractions further back, swaying in the gentle breeze. The buildings were dark inside, but through the gloom you could make out mannequins and shelves devoid of merchandise.

The bell dinged on the first one Tendo pushed open-- a souvenir shop. It was empty except for dust and garbage, as were the next few you entered.

Slowly but surely the group made their way further into the park, Yachi clinging onto you the whole time. Akaashi and Kuroo were right behind the two of you, Shirabu and Semi in front, forming a kind of guard while Tendo and Bokuto led the way. Kaori clung to Goshiki, who looked like he was putting on a brave front despite his pink cheeks and the nervousness in his eyes.

For all his grumbling, Shirabu looked interested as he eyed all the buildings and machinery. It was quiet, devoid even of the sound of birdsong or humming bugs, and it unsettled you.

“Oh look, it’s the pirate ship ride!” Bokuto yelled suddenly, breaking the deathly silence.

Everyone jumped, Shirabu hissing at him to shut up while Yukie shrieked, latching onto him. Bokuto had the decency to look abashed but still steered the group towards the derelict platform, testing his weight on the creaky metal stairs on his way up.

The deck of the ship was littered with leaves and dust, the seats worn down and showing stuffing and springs after however many years left in the element. There were signs of rust on the metal and the whole thing shifted slightly to emit a creak.

“Um, Bo, I don’t think that’s safe,” Kuroo called out, grabbing your arm to stop you from following up behind him.

Tendo and Goshiki were up beside him, examining the boat itself and, before anyone knew it, the former had hopped into it.

“Tendo!” Shirabu called, a trace of panic in his voice. His fingers were wrapped around the railing, paint flakes coming away under his touch hand as he prepared to spring up the stairs, but everyone’s eyes were locked on Tendo’s precarious creep down the middle aisle. “Get out of there before you get hurt, idiot!”

“It’s fine, Shirabu,” he called, now standing at the bow. “It’s kinda cool actually. I can see more of the park from here.”

Bokuto landed with a thump a moment later, a louder creak ringing out than when lanky Tendo had landed, and everyone took a collective breath and held it.

But as before, it held, and he joined Tendo up by the bow.

“Wow, he’s right!” he called, holding his hand above his eyes like a visor and peering out over the park. It was certainly bigger than he imagined for being in the middle of nowhere. “There’s a house over that way!”

“Probably the haunted house,” Tendo said, straining to see what Bokuto was looking at. In the distance were two stilted, twisted steeples painted in different hues. One was flamboyant and bright, the other dark and dreary, even compared to the state of disrepair of the rest of the park. “I see a funhouse too, I think. Looks pretty freaky. Wanna check ‘em out?”

“Hell yeah,” Bokuto shouted, whipping around to look at the rest of you.

Shirabu looked ready to blow a gasket, and Yachi looked ready to faint, but everyone else looked intrigued. Even you couldn’t help but be a little curious about it, having free range to explore the most interesting rides in the park. Wasn’t it everyone’s dream to be able to see what they were like without restraint?

The sun was just beginning to fade behind the treeline, turning the clouds a thin shade of orange, but the lure of seeing something interesting had dissolved any real fear.

The two men met Goshiki on the platform and made their way back down to the rest of the group, eyes shining bright with the promise of adventure.

“I told you it wouldn’t be so bad!” Tendo said as if the stunt he just pulled hadn’t taken years off all your lives. Jumping haphazardly onto a decade old, rusted out death trap attraction at an abandoned amusement park hours from the nearest hospital wasn’t going to earn him any genius awards.

On the way towards the supposed attractions, you came across the carousel. Its metal panels were tarnished, the paint worn away from them and the animals, the mirrors grimy with dirt. Vines and ivy climbed up everywhere. The platform shifted when Kuroo stepped onto it, Tendo hot on his heels followed closely by Bokuto.

“Let’s go see, ‘Toka,” you said, tugging her forward by the hand. Kaori took your other one, squeezing, while Akaashi guided you with a gentle hand on your back.

“Look at this,” someone said, and you turned to find Semi holding a faded paper. “It looks like a poster claiming someone was kidnapping people.”

“How the hell is it still here?” Konoha asked, peering at it around Semi’s arm. “It should have disintegrated a long damn time ago.”

“Dunno,” Semi said with a frown. Trying to see the paper, you were crowded against Semi by Yachi and Kaori and flinched when you realized how hot he was. “It was wedged in the frame of the mirror.”

The whole thing was faded but still legible, due presumably to being tucked into the mirror, and appeared to be a flyer issued by the park itself.

Due to the recent disappearances, park security has been tightened. Please stay aware of your surroundings and report and suspicious activity immediately.

“You were right, Akaashi,” you said, glancing up at the man standing behind you. “They really did think someone was kidnapping people.”

“A lot of the people were never found,” Semi said, folding the sheet up neatly and tucking into his pocket. “It’s not surprising they thought that.”

“Ohhhh, maybe the bodies are still here,” Tendo said, wiggling his fingers over Konoha’s shoulders. “Maybe it was actually the workers kidnapping people and they kept the bodies in a secret place.”

“Like where?” Shirabu asked, giving him an exasperated, skeptical look. It was getting late and they were wasting time just hanging around. He wasn’t particularly thrilled at the idea of being in the park after dark, going to possibly the scariest attraction in the place, but if they were going to do it, they needed to just get it done. “The authorities probably tore this place apart looking for them.”

Tendo shrugged, looking thoughtful. “Maybe they hid them in the haunted house. Maybe there’s a hidden room somewhere that only the workers knew how to open.”

“Could you not?” Yukie asked, slapping Tendo on the arm. “We’re going there, in case you forgot, pea brain. Way to freak us out.”

Yachi was clinging onto Kaori now, staring at Tendo with wide, frightened eyes and he almost looked repentant.

“Or, you know, could be anywhere. The haunted house would be a pretty obvious place to hide it, wouldn’t it?” he said, rubbing the back of his head. Beckoning to Yachi, she went reluctantly, letting Tendo tuck her under his arm. “Don’t worry, Yach. I’ll protect you, ‘kay?”

You and Kaori snickered at the shade of red her face turned, and Shirabu sighed.

“Can we just get going before it gets too late?” he asked, turning and leading the way down the path. The shadows were slowly lengthening, orange mixing with shades of pink and purple in the sky.

Semi fell into step beside you, Yukie on your other side. Goshiki and Konoha were having a conversation about the derelict rollercoaster to the right, and you allowed your attention to drift to it. It was eerie, the faded paint and rusted metal tracks looming like a foreboding beacon above you. Staring the way you were, your foot caught a displaced cobblestone and you went sprawling with a yelp.

Before you could smack the ground, a strong, warm hand wrapped around your upper arm and hauled you back up. It hurt, causing a sharp ache in your shoulder, but it still hurt less than the concrete probably would have. Looking up at your savior, you gave him a half smile.

“Thanks, Semi,” you said, rubbing your shoulder.

But he was frowning at you-- not that that was any different than the look he’d worn all day-- but this one was marred by soft concern. “Are you alright? You’re awfully cold.”

“O-Oh. No, I’m fine. Just got distracted by the coaster,” you said, giggling in embarrassment. “It is a bit chilly though, now that you mention it. I didn’t notice.”

There was a moment's hesitation, then the sound of a zipper being drawn down. A weight settled across your shoulders, surrounding you with an unfamiliar cologne, and your cheeks heated up at the realization that he had given you his jacket.

“That’s okay, Semi, really,” you said, shrugging the jacket off. “It isn’t that bad, and it’s my own fault. I left mine in the car.”

“No worries, _____,” he said, and for the first time you could see a small smile on his face in the dim light. “I’m not cold, so you can take it.”

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you said, pulling it back around your shoulders. It was warm and you smiled when you caught him looking at you. He was wearing a peculiar look, kind but almost possessive, and he licked his lips once before looking forward again.

You shivered, unsure if you were just seeing things. The park had rattled your nerves and Semi was just being nice. You didn’t know him well enough to make a judgement call like that and forced down the uneasiness, taking your place beside him again.

“Smooth move, klutz,” Konoha quipped, nudging your back. Goshiki and Shirabu snickered and you flipped them off over your shoulder, looping your other arm with Yukie.

The steepled spires of the haunted house came into view, beside which stood the funhouse, like Tendo said. Both looked terrifying in the dying light of the sun. Like everything else, the paint was almost gone, shingles missing from the roofs which were adorned with holes.

Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed Semi’s arm, pressing yourself to it. He glanced at you for a moment, a soft smile flitting across his face before looking at Tendo, who was staring between the two buildings.

“I wanna go in the funhouse,” Tendo said, turning back to the rest of the group. Setting his hands on his hips, he looked around at everyone. “Should we go as a group?” Kuroo shifted, pointing his feet towards the haunted house. “I kinda wanna go in there, actually.”

“Well no one should go anywhere alone,” Shirabu said firmly, and everyone nodded in agreement. If someone got hurt, no one would know for ages and then there was the long ride back on top of it.

“So we’ll split up. Everyone pick a house,” Tendo said, clapping his hands.

Yukie’s arm around yours disappeared and she scurried over to Tendo, looking at you apologetically. Yachi took her place instead, looking for all the world like she was going to collapse from fright, and you gave her a concerned look.

“I’m going wherever you go,” she said, and you raised a brow.

Before you could answer, Kuroo’s arm slung around your shoulders, looming over Yachi’s tiny form. “It looks like everyone’s decided. Pretty even split. Let’s meet back here in--” He checked his watch. “Two hours? That should be enough time to see everything.”

You opened your mouth to object, but Tendo nodded while Shirabu set the timer on his watch. “Everyone be careful, please. We really can’t afford any injuries.”

Yachi looked up at the dark house looming before you while the other group made their way towards the funhouse.

You could hear Tendo’s voice echo back, saying, “That’s the reason we have you here, Shirabu. You’re a doctor and all.”

Shirabu said something in return, but it was lost in the distance as you were herded towards the haunted house. The doors hung open, swinging in the breeze and creaking. It seemed like the house sucked all the warmth from the air the closer you got to it, and you squeezed Semi’s arm in yours.

“Scared, princess?” Kuroo whispered in your ear, raising the hairs on the back of your neck when his warm breath met your cold skin. “You shouldn’t be. We’re here with you.”

The steps leading into it sagged beneath your weight, the wood softer than it should’ve been and it came as no surprise when one broke beneath Semi’s weight. He cursed while you and Yachi pulled back, keeping him from falling over and potentially hurting himself. It took Akaashi and Kuroo both to pull him up out of the hole and a quick check revealed his jeans had protected his leg.

“Are you alright?” you whispered, looking up into Semi’s unamused face. He was wearing a hard scowl, his grip on you iron clad now as he guided you up the steps.

“Sure,” he said, eyes softening when he looked down at you. “Just annoyed.”

Inside, the light from your phones seemed to be swallowed by the darkness. The dust was thick and the air musty and humid. Cobwebs hung from everything, casting long shadows into the darkness beyond the halo of your flashlights.

Yachi yelped, tripping over a rotted track board and would have dragged you down if you weren’t holding onto Semi so tightly. His heat was almost a comfort now, driving away the persistent chill that seemed to emanate from the ramshackle walls. You couldn’t tell where the fabricated deterioration ended and true rot began.

“This way then?” Akaashi asked, leading the way into the first door. It was the kitchen area, set up to look like a butcher shop. A thick layer of dust settled over everything, motes flurrying through the painfully white light from your phones in an eerie dance that made it even harder to see.

Old props lay on the worn countertops, splotches of what was likely-- hopefully-- fake blood a dark black on the faded wood and laminate. Someone had a hand on your back while Akaashi examined a chain hanging from the ceiling, something hanging from the end of it. It made a strange noise when he pushed it, a crackly, grinding noise like it was rusty. It wouldn’t be a surprise, with the humidity as high as it is.

“That’s a little unsettling,” Kuroo admitted, and you all jumped when a loud crash rang out somewhere further down.

“Now would be the time to leave if we were in a horror movie,” you hinted through gritted teeth, even as Kuroo stepped back out into the hall. He scanned the darkness, his phone hanging by his side, the light pointed towards the floor. “What do you expect to see anyway, genius?”

He turned back to wink before disappearing into the dark and you groaned, straining your eyes to see anything. His light was lost in the gloom and you released Yachi’s arm, taking a step forward. Semi allowed himself to be dragged along with you while Goshiki held Yachi, petting her hair as she whimpered.

Swearing, you and Semi trudged down the hallway, listening for any noises but heard nothing besides the sounds of an old building settling. Your voice caught in your throat when you opened your mouth to call for Kuroo, your ire failing in the face of the oppressive darkness in the heart of the house. Swiping a cobweb off your face, you shined your phone around, lighting up a destroyed living room area, two hallways, and a staircase.

“You don’t think he went upstairs, do you?” Semi whispered, following your line of sight.

Swallowing, you said, “God I fuckin’ hope not. This is so creepy, can’t we just leave him?”

He chuckled against his will, a quiet, rough noise as he tried to stifle it. “‘Fraid not. I don’t wanna deal with the cops.”

Heaving a sigh, you pointed the light down to the floor and found no sign of footprints in the thick dust. Flashing it behind you, you saw your own and Semi’s clearly visible and frowned. “Hey, look.”

Semi scoured the floor, waving his light all around you. “He definitely came this way.”

Nodding, you pointed the light back in front of you, down the hallway, but it was unable to break more than a few inches of darkness. “Okay, now I’m really freaked out. Where is he?”

New light joined your meager one, shuffling footsteps coming to a stop just behind you.

Akaashi’s hand landed on your shoulder, peering over your head at where you were staring.

“This way,” Semi said after a moment of silence. It was broken only by Yachi’s occasional sniffle and you wondered if you shouldn’t just return to the front door and let Semi and Akaashi handle the rescue. But gentle pressure on your arm and shoulder guided you down, sniffling at the dust before you broke out into a sneeze.

The floor creaked beneath your feet, making the already eerie feeling worse as you crept down the hall. There were faded, torn paintings lining the walls, a few false doors, and windows painted black and boarded up. You couldn’t tell if the paint peeling up the walls was due to age or intent, but it certainly didn’t help settle your unease.

“Careful,” Semi said suddenly, jerking you sideways into him. The cold hand slid off your shoulder and a light revealed a hole in the middle of the floor, where you had been about to step.

“Thanks,” you breathed, swallowing harshly. The dust was starting to sting your eyes and you repressed another sneeze, rubbing your nose.

Skirting around the hole, it opened into another room, what appeared to be a library. Overstuffed armchairs littered the room, the shelves lining the walls stacked with what were likely fake books. There was no sign of Kuroo, but Semi led you further into the room carefully.

He wasn’t careful enough, though.

Once second you were clinging to him, the next you heard a crack and then you were experiencing the most curious sensation. Your stomach swooped as the light disappeared, and you realized belatedly that you were falling. Something warm, almost scalding wrapped around you, and your fall stopped short with a grunt of impact.

You lay there stunned for several long moments, head spinning and heart beating hard enough that you could feel it in your ears. The dark was only furthering your disorientation and you only realized you were laying on something when it moved beneath you.

Sitting up, you felt something slump over your shoulders before coughing filled your ears.

“Semi?” you whispered hoarsely. Above you, you registered screaming and looked up only to be blinded by light.

Semi grunted behind you but didn’t move, breathing heavy against your back. From above, you could hear muted conversation before the shrieking stopped.

“_____, Semi, are you both okay?” Akaashi’s concerned voice reached your ringing ears, and you nodded in response.

It took you a moment to realize he probably couldn’t see you, calling up, “Yeah, I think so. Semi--”

“‘M fine,” he yelled, though he sounded winded.

“Are you sure?” you asked, wrapping a hand around the wrist dangling in front of you. A few feet away lay your phone, face down, the light muted but visible, and you sighed in relief. “You caught me, are you sure*?”

Semi chuckled, a rough noise. “Yeah, I’m sure. Trust me.”

“You guys stay there,” Akaashi commanded, then turned back to Goshiki and Yachi to say something. “I’ll find a way down to you.”

He disappeared and you scrambled forward, snatching your phone up. Moving back to the relative safety of Semi’s presence, you shined it around.

The basement, you decided upon seeing the array of monster props and torture machines, was perhaps the most terrifying part of the house. It was only heightened by your adrenaline rush, the shadows seeming to jump out to your paranoid mind.

As the adrenaline wore off, you took stock of your extremities. Semi really had cushioned you-- nothing hurt-- and you turned to face him.

In the light, he really did look fine, even his breathing had evened out, and he looked back at you with a smirk. “Told you. I’m tougher than you think.”

“I’m beginning to realize that,” you admitted, getting to your feet. You didn’t let Semi get far, linking your arm with his and clinging to him, much to his amusement.

His eyes adjusted to the dark faster than yours and he located his phone near the base of a rusty filing cabinet. The screen was cracked-- which he cursed-- but it still worked, and he turned the flashlight back on.

“This is creepy as fuck,” he muttered, thumping the model of a skeletal doctor to see the dust swirl. There was a medical table in the center of the room with a light looming over it. He assumed there was supposed to be a body laying on said table and, in the dark, it was a scary thought that it was no longer there. “I hope Akaashi hurries up. I don’t like it here.”

You couldn’t stifle the small giggle, though you covered your mouth in a poor attempt. It was the nerves, you were sure, because as he moved away you held tighter, stumbling after him. He tried one door, the handle stiff enough that you recognized it to be fake. There was a set of metal double doors on the other side of the room and those swung open with an eerie grinding noise, scraping across the concrete floor.

The hallways extended to either direction, cells lining the wall in front of you and you shuddered. “Let’s go, Semi, please,” you begged, tugging him down to the left. It was the same direction that you had come from on the floor above and hoped that it would lead you to a staircase or something*.

Semi went along reluctantly, flashing his light in all the cells you passed. Most were empty, besides the occasional bed or other prop. Some contained chains mounted in the wall and his eyes flashed to you.

The hallway opened up into what may have been a waiting room if most of the furniture hadn’t been utterly destroyed. As you scanned the area, there was a noise from up ahead and you jerked to a stop, scurrying back to Semi’s side. Peeking around him while he stared down the hall, you kept a tight grip on his arm, feeling the muscles flex and tense beneath your hand. A shadow moved in the light and you nearly screamed as Kuroo stepped into view, followed closely by Akaashi.

Neither carried a light and your heart leapt in your throat when you caught a momentary flash of light reflecting off of Kuroo’s eyes before it disappeared.

Still hiding behind Semi, the four of you regarded each other in silence for a moment, before Kuroo chuckled.

“Well, this is certainly convenient, though I didn’t expect you to get involved,” he said, leaning sideways against the wall. He looked as relaxed as usual while Akaashi lurked behind him, staring at you peeking around Semi’s arm.

He held out a hand to you but you held back, suddenly unsure of Kuroo’s words. With your heart in your throat, you looked up into Semi’s relaxed, impassive face. He made no moves, just watched the other two linger in front of your only escape route.

Then he shrugged.

“Dumb luck.”

The men burst into laughter and you squeaked, taking a step back from Semi. Before you could get anywhere, his hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you forward.

“Easy, kitten. We don’t wanna hurt you,” Kuroo said, stepping further into the room. His eyes lit up once again in the light from your flashlight, mischievous brown turning solid gold. His pupils narrowed and elongated, his smile seeming to become more sharp as he stared down at you.

You breathed in sharply, taking a step back into Semi’s chest. Regardless of whether he was in on whatever they had planned, he was the safest option as opposed to whatever the hell Kuroo was.

The grip on your wrist loosened but came to your shoulders instead, keeping you in place with a warning squeeze. You had already guessed he was tough, given he had taken the full brunt of the impact earlier, but you now suspected he wasn’t human either.

Akaashi came forward last, looking as placid and calm as ever, cold fingertips stroking down your cheek.

You shivered.

None of these men were human, if you had to hazard a guess. Staring up at them, you felt your heart drop.

“W-Where are ‘Toka and Goshiki?” you asked, and were proud that your voice barely cracked. Maybe if you reminded them people would be looking for you, they would back off, allowing you to escape.

Kuroo chuckled, flipping the zipper of your-- Semi’s-- jacket up in what would have been a cute manner under different circumstances. “Keiji here sent them looking for the others in the funhouse, but they’ll never find the doorway down here. Tendo was right, there are lots of hidden doors in this place.”

“What are you? What are you going to-- to d-do to me?” you asked quickly, wrapping your fingers around his wrist as he started to tug the zipper down. You were stalling at best, your heart thumping harshly in your chest. If there was any chance of escape, you couldn’t figure it out. You had no idea where this door was and you had the impression you wouldn’t be able to outrun them anyway.

“I don’t suppose it would hurt to tell you,” he answered, taking a step closer. You tried to shrink away, huddling down into Semi’s oversized jacket, but it only seemed to entice them. “I am a yokai, I assume you know what that is? Akaashi is your run of the mill demon.”

If that offended Akaashi, he didn’t show it, simply widening his smile and blinking slowly. His once serene blue eyes turned pitch black and when he blinked again, they were normal.

“I’m just a werewolf,” Semi said, breathing against your ear. His hands slid down, catching the zipper of his jacket between his fingers and drawing the zipper down slowly.

“W-Wait, please,” you tried, grabbing and tugging at his wrist to no avail. He was far stronger, and you were like a fly in comparison. “Please, can we just go?”

Kuroo cupped your cheek, a moderate temperature compared to the other two, and his smile seemed to soften a fraction. “No, kitten. Keiji and I have been waiting for this for far too long. The wolf probably just likes how you smell.”

You weren’t sure what that meant, but the deep, pointed inhale Semi took against your neck seemed to verify the statement. The jacket fell to the floor with barely a whisper and then your phone was placed face up on a table, beside the men’s, and the combined light filled the room.

It felt like you couldn’t get enough air as warm hands skimmed down your stomach, stretching the soft fabric of your t-shirt out, before settling on your hips. Lips met your neck, tentative at first, trailing up to your jaw, causing you to shiver.

The heat radiating off of Semi and Kuroo was getting to you, Semi’s soft lips flitting over pleasure spots causing your back to arch. You didn’t want to like it, but when Kuroo’s hands slipped up your shirt and over your ribs, your muscles tensed in unwanted arousal. Your nipples were already peaking inside your bra, the hairs on the back of your neck raising at the first graze of teeth on your skin.

“W-Wa-ait--” you breathed and, for a moment, you thought they really would stop because they both paused.

It was over in a moment, a soft kiss pressed to your other cheek as Kuroo pushed your bra up over your tits. His hands were soft as they cupped the tender flesh, giving gentle squeezes that went straight to your core, as much as you protested. “Not gonna happen, kitten. May as well enjoy it. We’ll take good care of you.”

A new sensation joined the heat surrounding you then, Kuroo moving to the side to allow Akaashi to join in. His hands were cold compared to the other two, one on your side and one cupping your unoccupied breast. The difference was enough to make you gasp, back arching on its own into their touch, and they at least had the decency not to snicker.

“You really do smell good, princess,” Semi whispered in your ear, nipping the lobe. “I can smell everything, even how wet you’re getting for us.”

Craning your neck away from him only opened you up to another smattering of kisses and you hated that he was right. They were getting to you, their gentle touches on your body doing everything right, like they had been your lovers for years rather than men you just met today. It made it harder to think than it already was, mind still racing in a futile effort to formulate some way to escape, but even you could recognize your body giving up.

Your shirt came up and over your head, disappearing somewhere outside of your vision. There was a collective intake from the men in front of you, and Semi groaned over your shoulder.

“I knew you would be so pretty, kitten,” Kuroo cooed, palming one tit again. He relished in the way you twitched when he pinched your nipple, then he cupped both, bouncing and watching them jiggle. “Been watching you all day, we couldn’t wait to get our hands on you.”

Akaashi was the first to lean over, wrapping cool lips around one pert bud, and Kuroo stepped back to watch your teeth sink into your lip to stifle any noises.

“Feel good, princess?” Semi asked, and chuckled when you shook your head. “It will soon, then. We won’t hurt you. Just wanna make you feel good.”

The worst part was, you were beginning to enjoy it. It was so tempting to cave, to just let them have their way with you. They were gentle, surprisingly so, and it was knocking down whatever resistance you had left at an alarming rate.

Semi’s hands were almost scalding against your sides, squeezing and kneading as he suckled at your neck, feeling you whine in your throat. “There you go. Just let go.”

The clasp of your bra came loose, and you weren’t even sure who had done it, before it was slid down your arms and dumped, presumably with your shirt.

There were two sets of lips attached to each nipple, your nails digging into your palms to keep from tangling your fingers in someone’s hair but you were losing the will to fight. Your panties were embarrassingly wet, no matter how much your mind insisted you didn’t like it, and you broke your silence when cold fingers drifted down to undo the button of your jeans.

“No please,” you begged, wiggling your hips in your first real display of resistance. Hands clamped down to still them in an iron grip, and a hand clasped your jaw, forcing you to look Kuroo in the eyes.

“What wrong, kitten? You’ve been so good up til now,” he said, stroking your lower lip with his thumb. There were imprints of your teeth in the skin, and he ached to kiss you, but it would have to wait.

“I-I don’t w-want--” you stuttered, tears burning the corners of your eyes as your zipper was pulled down.

Semi interrupted you then, tilting your head just so that he could kiss the corner of your mouth, smirking. “She’s embarrassed because of how wet she is.” Dropping his voice to barely a whisper, he said, “I can smell you, princess. You want this, don’t deny it.”

Shaking your head feebly, you whined when Semi pressed his lips to your cheek, dangerously close to your lips again. It was enough to distract you from your jeans sliding down your legs, until they pooled at your ankles and Akaashi had to tug your shoes off. Your jeans hit the floor shortly afterwards, the air startlingly cool against your now bare skin only to be covered with warmth as the men caged you in again.

It started with two fleeting touches to your inner thighs, which you tried to stop by squeezing them together only for them to pried apart in an instant. Semi took the opportunity to lay another languid kiss to the corner of your mouth, tongue flicking out against your lips.

For a moment, you turned into it only to jerk away, looking in the opposite direction. You knew what they were trying to do and you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing you beg for something you didn’t want. You wondered briefly where the others were and why you could hear nothing from above, until warm hands cupped your tits again.

You bit down on your lip again when Semi circled your nipples with his thumbs, massaging your breasts as he rolled them between his fingers. It was hard to keep quiet when it felt so good, especially when Kuroo and Akaashi were teasing your inner thighs, so close your aching cunt.

Your hips rocked of their own accord, your mind too preoccupied with the warm touches on your tender nipples and stifling your noises, but all three of your attackers smirked.

“Ask, pretty girl,” Akaashi said, speaking for the first time.

His voice combined with his fleeting, cold touch against the soaked lips of your cunt caused a gasp to break free, hips rolling up in a jerky manner against your will. Your ears burned when they laughed and your teeth sank into your lip again. It was driving you insane, they were so close but you refused to beg for it.

“Aw, did we upset you, kitten?” Kuroo cooed, placing a wet kiss against your hip. “We’re sorry. You’re just so cute we can’t help it. Come on, ask us. Ask us to touch this pretty little pussy and we’ll make it up to you.”

Another swipe across your clit timed with a tug on your nipples broke the seal a second time.

“S-Semi--”

“There she goes,” Semi whispered, tilting your head around to look at him. Tears were spilling down your cheeks as you looked up at him with wide, resigned eyes. His eyes dropped to your parted lips for a moment and you swallowed, blinking the tears away, but didn’t struggle.

The first kiss was tentative, tongue ghosting between your parted lips to test you for a reaction. You only whined into the kiss, leaning in and he delved into your mouth, tongue lapping at yours as he tasted you.

When he pulled away, you hiccupped, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you closed your eyes.

“Please, just touch me. Fuck me, do whatever. I can’t--” you whispered, thighs aching from how tense you had been for god knew how long. It was too much to hold out, not when you were so wet and aching for it anyway. They knew what they were doing, their gentle teasing and buildup working to break down any fight you had and it had worked flawlessly.

You melted into Semi as Kuroo lifted one leg over his shoulder. Akaashi left a trail of cool kisses down your inner thigh while Kuroo kissed up the opposite one. You didn’t know whether to tremble or whine, so you did both when his nose bumped your clit, and they chuckled again.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it, pretty girl?” Akaashi asked, and you might have mistook it for affection in another situation. “Just relax.”

As if you had a choice. Hot breathe puffed across your folds, teasing just a little more until you were practically dripping on his lips. Only then did his tongue swipe across your clit, your hips jerking harshly. His hot tongue was replaced with a cold one, the two of them taking turns lapping at your clit at such a languid pace that it was more torturous than not being touched at all.

“Fuck, please, stop teasing,” you cried, voice cracking as your back arched. You were desperate at this point, willing to beg or do whatever they wanted. You weren’t getting out of it without doing so anyway, so you might as well enjoy it. “Kuroo, Akaashi, please.”

A sharp pinch to your nipples made you squeal just before Semi devoured your mouth. You could feel the aggravation in the kiss, the way his teeth clacked against yours and his tongue pressed against yours. You made muffled noises against him, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair.

At the same time, Kuroo latched onto your clit properly, and your eyes almost rolled into the back of your head as you rocked your hips against his feverish suckling. The noises he was making filled the quiet space, grunts and would-be moans that terminated against your clit as he worked to make you cum.

Your head was starting to spin from lack of oxygen and intense pleasure. Kuroo wasn’t giving you an inch and your slick hole fluttered around nothing, until something swirled around your entrance before slipping in.

You forgot about the kiss, Semi’s lips hovering against yours as you came with a cry around cold fingers. The temperature difference between Akaashi’s fingers and Kuroo’s lips was mind numbing, your eyelids flickering, trying to stay open before giving in. You didn’t bother to be quiet, letting your moans bounce off the walls. Maybe it would draw the others to you, and you could still get out of this.

Instead of withdrawing his fingers, Akaashi slipped another one in beside the first, kitten licking your still sensitive clit and listening to you whine for him to “Stop, please, too much.” He only smirked, continuing to lap until you relaxed, though the stream of noises never stopped.

There was a moment of hesitation as Kuroo stood, cocking his head in Semi’s direction. With your attention on your throbbing clit and Akaashi’s almost icy touch, you missed the way Semi beckoned to him. Their lips met briefly, allowing Semi to get a taste of you on his lips before Semi dragged him into a deeper one, tongues meeting in a heated tangle. Both men were hard, Semi grinding his clothed erection against the cheek of your ass, the chafing fabric unnoticed against your soft skin.

You squirmed against him when Akaashi crooked his fingers just right inside you, grazing over the swollen sweet spot inside you again and again until you were on the verge of another orgasm. It seemed like no matter how long his fingers stayed inside you, they never heated up. You weren’t even sure if the cold of his tongue flicking over your clit was pleasurable or not but it was such constant pressure that you hurtled towards your second orgasm. Kuroo was quick to stifle it, delving into your mouth for you to taste what remained of you on his tongue.

You came with a cry, convulsing around Akaashi’s fingers for a second time so hard you became light headed. He continued to pet that spot inside you until you were squirming to get away, tugging roughly at his hair.

Your legs shook when he let you down, only Semi’s strong grip keeping you upright. The sound of belt buckles clanging brought you down quickly, and trepidation set your heart racing again. There was no stopping it, but you found yourself trying to back up anyway.

“Ah,” Kuroo tutted, taking you from Semi’s arm and kissing the crown of your head like he was comforting you. “Don’t start that. We aren’t going to hurt you, kitten.”

No, they certainly hadn’t yet, and you had no choice but to trust his words. Something hard pressed against your ass, hotter even than the rest of Semi. You instinctively jerked away, pressing into Kuroo only to feel something slip between your thighs.

“Excited, aren’t we?” Kuroo drawled, and you could feel the condescension dripping off of him. Semi pressed to your back again, shielding you from the cold, while Kuroo asked, “How are we gonna take her? Semi, you kinda threw a wrench in things, can’t lie.”

Semi shrugged against your back, letting his cock settle between your thighs. You whined, jerking your hips instinctively away from the heat against your folds, but it only served to make him grind into you.

“I want this sweet cunt,” Semi snarled, cupping your jaw in a tight grip and tilting your head away, baring your throat to him. He licked a stripe from your shoulder to just beneath your ear before kissing the soft skin, and you shivered at the possessiveness in his tone.

“Alright, wolfboy smells a mate,” Kuroo said, rolling his eyes. “Akaashi?”

The last of the trio stepped forward again, skimming his fingers down your cheek before leaning in to steal a kiss. “I’m okay with whatever you want, Kuroo. Just wanna feel her around me.”

There was something dark in his eyes that belied his passive words. He was deferring to Kuroo to get things moving, you were almost sure. Like the rest of him, his cock was cool against your thigh, more like a glass dildo you kept at home than a cock attached to a man.

“That makes things easy then,” Kuroo said, clapping his hands and giving you that mischievous smile. If you didn’t know any better-- you didn’t-- you would say his teeth were a little sharper, the canines more pronounced than before. His eyes certainly hadn’t changed, maintaining that almost glowing golden color this whole time. “Semi, lay on the couch. Keiji, you can take her from behind. I want her mouth.”

He sounded like he was giving out instructions to his employees rather than fucking a very reluctant person, but the other two followed his instructions without question. It was an odd sensation, to be talked about as if you weren’t there, as if you had no say over what was happening to you.

Not that you did.

It wasn’t until you were straddling Semi that you realized something. In addition to being hotter than average, he was larger than average, peeking out from between your folds to drip precum just below his bellybutton. The way your stomach swooped made you nauseous and tears fell down your cheeks all over again.

“What’s wrong, princess?” he asked, wiping them away as best he could. You wouldn’t be fooled by the concern in his tone; he wouldn’t stop anyway.

You turned your face away only to jump when a finger slipped your cunt, cool to the touch, followed by a second, only to be removed a second later. They moved instead to your slick rear entrance, circling and massaging until it gave way, eased by your previous orgasms. You fell forward, bracing yourself over Semi, who held your rocking hips still. Two fingers filled you, the stretch no more than a sting but it was uncomfortable nonetheless when you didn’t want it.

Akaashi’s other hand came down, long fingers wrapping around your throat just beneath your chin, pulling you back up to your knees. “Good girl,” he whispered in your ear before forcing your head around so he could capture your lips.

They parted naturally when his tongue glided across them, allowing him access without thought. You couldn’t place his taste; it was like he’d just eaten ice before kissing you, and you moaned into it.

Kuroo, who until then had been content to watch, groaned and stood from the dilapidated chair he had been lounging in. One hand wrapped around your wrist, moving your hand to wrap around his aching cock, desperate for some kind of relief. Your palm was soft against him, and he spit on it twice for good measure before allowing you to curl your fingers around him again. They did so automatically, squeezing tight and he hissed through gritted teeth, slit pupils narrowing further as he watched Akaashi’s tongue delve into your mouth like he wanted his cock to.

All the while, Semi was forcing you to slide along his shaft, slow, calculated moves designed to drag your clit back and forth against him. He could feel you trembling above him, your hands curled into fists against his chest, hips moving with his hands. You dripped down his cock, covering him in your slick and he almost growled at the heady scent. Unlike the other two, he could smell how bad you wanted it and it was driving him wild.

“Akaashi, hurry up,” he snapped, digging his nails into your soft hips hard enough to leave marks if he wasn’t careful.

Akaashi hummed in disapproval, pulling from your mouth to stare impassively at the werewolf. “I don’t want to hurt her, Semi.”

Yet, he withdrew his fingers and you whined at the loss.

“Finally,” Semi hissed, helping Akaashi lift you up so he could slick his cock up against your cunt before settling against your rear hole. “You go first.”

Your toes curled tight enough to cramp as Akaashi gave you a warning nudge before splitting you open. Your jaw dropped, eyes widening as you stared up into the cobwebbed ceiling, waiting for him to bottom out. Thighs trembling in Semi’s hold, you fell back against Akaashi’s chest as his hips met your ass.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he whispered, leaving cool kisses along your shoulder and neck. Goosebumps were raising up your arms and back, and he would have felt bad if you weren’t squeezing around his cock so tight while Semi positioned himself at your dripping hole.

You couldn’t decide if you really wanted two cocks, weren’t sure if you could even take two, but Semi was stretching you so wide you were crying out broken babbles none of them could make out as he seated you flush against his hips. You twitched above him, fluttered around him, squeezed rhythmically while you tried weakly to get away.

The sensation of fullness was one you had never experienced before. Even just Semi’s cock was more than you had ever taken, let alone Akaashi’s cock in your inexperienced asshole. You blinked rapidly, unable to decide if you liked it or not before a hand wound in your hair and you were pulled down.

Kuroo’s cock bobbed in your face and your jaw dropped automatically, allowing him to smear precum around your lips. He was more salty than bitter as he slipped into your mouth, stuffing himself as far as he could before you started gagging. Pulling back, he gave you a small reprieve to gasp for air before filling your mouth again. There was no fighting his thrusts, you had to force your throat to relax or choke. A mix of drool and tears spilled down your chin as a thick vein dragged against your tongue, dripping off to the floor. In the back of your foggy mind you were disgusted.

When they felt you relax around Kuroo’s cock, his hips moving in a steady rhythm to fuck your throat, Akaashi and Semi moved.

You spasmed around Kuroo when Semi lifted you up and dropped you back down, your hips meeting with a wet slap, his cock stifling your scream. Akaashi pulled out then, a little more careful as he stuffed himself back in, but the constant push and pull of their hips soon spread fire through your body. Kuroo was heavy on your tongue, Semi and Akaashi bumping and grinding against each other through the thin wall separating your cunt and ass, Semi’s curls stimulating your throbbing, sensitive clit.

You couldn’t fathom how you were careening towards a third orgasm, but Semi’s cock was so thick he couldn’t help but drag along the swollen, gummy sweet spot inside you. Akaashi’s low, pleasured moans in your ear gave you a vague sense of pride. These gorgeous men wanted you, were moaning for you.

It was enough to make you forget this wasn’t right.

Kuroo thought you were moaning, your throat vibrating around his cock as he facefucked you with abandon. The tight sleeve of your throat only grew tighter when Akaashi’s hand slipped between your legs to pet your clit and Kuroo grunted.

“Keep that up, kitten, and you’re gonna make me cum,” he said, holding your nose down in his curls for a few seconds just to feel you spasm around him.

Semi and Akaashi felt the benefits of it, both your holes clenching around them as you gagged. Semi took the opportunity to grind deep inside you, rolling his hips up so that he pushed against your cervix.

Your thighs trembled around him, a squeal stifled around Kuroo’s cock as you came hard, jerking in Semi’s hold. He snarled, bouncing you on his cock with abandon as Akaashi slammed into you, spreading your clenching hole without care as he moaned.

Kuroo grunted, pumping into your mouth a few more times before pressing your nose into his pelvis and cumming, his lips parted in an ‘o’ and his head tipping back. You had no choice but to swallow until he pulled out and spilled the remnant all over your face, smirking as it mixed with your tears and drool to drip off your chin.

Semi’s back arched off the couch, strong hands pulling you down to sit flush with his hips as he spilled inside you. Your eyes grew wide at the intense heat filling your womb, the warmth rushing up through you at the same time Akaashi came in your ass. Goosebumps erupted across your skin as his cum offset the heat of Semi’s, and your vision swam for a moment from overstimulation.

Semi caught you as you collapsed forward, cradling you to his chest regardless of the mess, petting your hair.

Akaashi slipped out of you, sharing a small smirk with Kuroo as he sought out your clothes.

“Give me my shirt,” Semi said, catching it from the air when Akaashi threw it. He forced you to sit up, watching you sway with a twisted sense of pride, and wiped the mess from your face. Akaashi and Kuroo took you from there, helping you to dress while you leaned against them, unable to keep from snickering at the state they’d left you in.

“Can you walk, kitten?” Kuroo asked, setting his hands on your shoulders. “Or do you need someone to carry you?”

“I-I can w-walk,” you stuttered, throat raspy. You frowned and grabbed it, swallowing with a wince.

“Good girl,” Kuroo said, dropping a kiss on your lips and smirked when you leaned after him as he pulled away. “We don’t need to worry about you telling anyone, do we?”

Shaking your head, you allowed Semi to wrap an arm around your shoulders, keeping you close to bathe in his warmth as Kuroo led the way up the hidden stairs a little ways down the hall they had been blocking earlier. At the top of the stairs, you could hear voices calling your names and perked up, trying to follow the echoes in the darkness.

“This way,” Kuroo said, leading the way though there wasn’t a speck of light in sight. Your own phone was tucked safely in the pocket of Semi’s jacket, which he had taken back. “Keiji, give me your phone. Appearances.”

Right, couldn’t let the humans know.

Everyone crowded around you, throwing questions all at once, until Shirabu lost his temper. He insisted on looking you and Semi over, just to determine for sure nothing was the matter.

He seemed a little concerned by how out of it you were, and asked if you hit your head.

Three sets of eyes landed on you, all carrying a different weight as they waited for you to speak.

“Just tired, Shirabu,” you murmured, hiding your face in Semi’s side. “It took ages for them to find us. Can we go home now?”

The tension eased, though you kept your face hidden, allowing him to guide you blindly down the hallway.

It was even colder outside than earlier, and Kuroo took over the spot on your other side, gently shooing Yachi towards the other. She had insisted on keeping you company, watching you with wide, worried eyes while Akaashi and Kuroo whispered together behind her.

Even now, she watched the way the three men hovered around you with curious concern. They treated you like a precious object-- or a possession that needed to be protected.

You nodded in response to something Kuroo said, trying-- if possible-- to curl even closer into Semi. Akaashi hovered in the background, pretty face as impassive as ever until he caught Yachi looking at him.

His lips curled up in a smile, his face softening ever so slightly, and she relaxed. Whatever had happened to you down there, it seemed to spark something in the three men.

Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been that bad.

#🖤.kuroo #🖤.akaashi #🖤.semi #tw noncon #tw reluctance

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spook-central · 3 years

Text

So you know how I said I was gonna write a short Ray fic based on that garage kiss in Some Kind of Wonderful?

GUESS WHAT I DID IT

I’ll be posting it here and on archive of our own! Find me there at egonspenglersnose and give it some love!)

It’s based on this scene and this song if you need a little more context! Enjoy!

•••

She Loves Me

Word Count: 2939

Warnings: none it’s fluffy!

The day had started off normally enough, aside from the usual craziness that often occurred around the firehouse. Spring was in the air, and after what had felt like a bleak and oppressive winter, it was finally time to open up the doors and air the place out.

It felt good, letting the spring air in, and it made your overtime far more bearable.

You often stayed late a few times a week to make sure everything was caught up on for the next day when things got busy during the work week, something which Janine always appreciated greatly. Tonight was no exception, but the sun staying out for a longer time in the evenings definitely made it more enjoyable.

It also helped that Ray had lingered behind this evening to work on the Ecto. You had always been incredibly fond of him, and it was obvious to just about everyone that a crush had blossomed on your part.

You recalled the day you had met him; they had hired you on the spot mainly because they needed the help but also because you had a fairly impressive resume, and Ray was one of the first of the guys you had been introduced to.

He was quite honestly one of the best looking men you had ever met, and so incredibly sweet. You immediately liked him and got a good feeling about him.

You loved how passionate he was about the Ecto, and his overall knowledge of cars had always impressed you. Even if you didn’t know much about them, you loved his enthusiasm for them and it easily rubbed off on you.

Now, as you finished up the last of your paperwork for the evening, you could hear him tinkering away not far from you. Ecto had her fair share of problems, but there was nothing Ray wouldn’t do for that car. It was like another member of the team, and you couldn’t imagine the guys doing anything without it.

Ray would occasionally come in from where he was working for something he needed, and your eyes would meet on occasion. You had never had the guts to tell him of your feelings. Ray was just so cute and enthusiastic about what he did that it was hard NOT to give him heart eyes 24/7.

From time to time, you would hear him shuffle in for a drink of water or a missing wrench that he had left in the lab, smiling at him as you took in the sight of his wild brown hair and big, sweet eyes. How was it fair for one human to be that cute? You felt like you were sixteen again with the way you wanted to fawn over him.

However, restraint was a quality you possessed as well, and you hoped that you had been able to be somewhat subtle around him.

Oh well, maybe someday you would have enough courage. Sighing as you finished up your paperwork for the night, you stood to stretch your back, adjusting your jeans, purse and blouse as you made your way towards the door.

“She still down and out?” You asked Ray as you came to stand carefully beside the lovely car he had so caringly constructed and repaired. It really was his baby, in a funny way, and you respected the work that had gone into it a great deal. Ecto kept the guys in one piece, and you gave the vehicle a sweet little pat on the roof as if to say thank you.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” he said, his voice echoing off of the metal interior before attempting to stand up too quickly and bumping his head on it. “Ow!”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, it always gets me like that,” he chuckled, rubbing the spot on the back of his head that had been bumped and smiling that sweet, bright smile of his at you that always made you melt. “Are you headed out for the day?”

“Yup, unless you need anything else from me that is,” truth be told, you would’ve gladly stayed all night just to hang around with him. Ray seemed hesitant to fully say Goodnight, and you couldn’t help wondering if he was thinking the same thing.

“Well, uh...hand me the socket wrench?” You had gotten a fairly decent rundown of which tools were which upon receiving your first car as a teenager thanks to your father, so luckily you knew exactly what he needed. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing,” adjusting your purse on your shoulder, you couldn’t help asking about a case that had piqued your interest. “How did that class 5 turn out?”

“The one from yesterday?”

“Yeah, that one sounded nuts!”

“It was,” he laughed, “Venkman’s aim is getting better, he didn’t make any chandeliers explode this time.”

“I thought that one was Egon?”

You both laughed, and part of you was thrilled at how naturally conversation came for the both of you.

Needing a socket wrench turned into needing pliers, but soon enough Ray ran out of tools to need and it was clear that he really just wanted to spend time with you. You weren’t about to object in the slightest, comfortably sitting on a nearby stool and watching as he worked.

Truth be told, he had liked you ever since meeting you on that first day. You were always kind to him, and listened to anything he had to say no matter how out there it was.

He also couldn’t help thinking that you were incredibly pretty and very smart, but his own shy nature prevented him from saying so the way he wanted to.

A long time passed with you talking to Ray as he worked, and it was quite nice. The sun was setting now, the light golden as it streamed in from the open door beside the Ecto, but you didn’t mind.

“So Venkman seriously busted up this woman’s entire China cabinet?” The conversation had strayed back to Venkman now, and you couldn’t help laughing. He was such an odd duck, and you always got a kick out of him and his wild antics.

“We were able to blame it on the ghost being rowdy, but my god, it was a mess!” Ray tried to smooth back his messy hair as he laughed again, his hands covered in engine grease and not helping the situation much.

“He seems like he can be a real peach when he’s not causing trouble,” you rolled your eyes, smiling as Ray closed up the Ecto’s hood.

“He teases me plenty, that’s for sure, but I love him. He’s one of my best friends,” Ray was clearly fond of Venkman, and you didn’t doubt that their bond was a special one.

“What on earth does he tease you about?”

“Mostly my luck with women. Not that his is anything to go by,” this got a gut laugh out of you, and you were surprised by how witty Ray could be at times.

“No kidding. What, does he think you haven’t got game or something?”

“He tells me women won’t want to kiss me since I smoke so much.” Ray rolled his eyes, and you couldn’t help thinking about how far from the truth that actually was. “Or he acts like I don’t know how to do it at all. I mean, sure, I spend a lot of time at work but I’m not a complete hermit.”

You both laughed again, and you sat your purse on the ground as you got a rather cheeky idea. Was it even smart to try and approach things like this? Would he go for it? God, you hoped so.

“I’m sure you know how. I mean, everybody has a general idea of how to lay a proper smooch on someone if they want to.”

He raised an eyebrow at this, thinking the phrasing was humorous and wanting to hear more from you on this subject in particular.

“A ‘proper smooch’?”

“Yeah, you know. The kiss that kills. Butterflies and rainbows and all that stuff.”

He watched you as you took a few causal steps toward the Ecto now, the gears visibly turning in his head. Was this some subtle attempt at flirting?

The nearby radio, which had been playing softly in the background the whole time, played a song that perfectly fit the mood, the lyrics softly ringing out as you contemplated what to say next.

‘Who made the rule

that I should always play the fool?

All the nights I suffered

when I need not have bothered…’

“I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those, now that I think about it,” he admitted with a half smile.

“I uh...I think I’ve gotten close, but never all the way there,” you tucked a bit of hair behind your ear, watching as Ray adjusted his uniform, which he still had on. It had smudges of engine grease on it now, and you found it endearing.

He realized that this chance was now or never, gauging by the look in your eyes that you wanted what he wanted and deciding to go for it.

“How would it work? I mean...you seem like you know more about it than me,” he took a step closer, and you knew your eyes were shining in an undeniably flirty way.

“Oh you—you want me to show you?”

“I mean...if you feel up to it. I’m no expert and I could use the help.” Cheeky man, you thought. You could certainly show him if that was what he wanted.

“Do you have your eye on somebody, Ray?”

He wiped his hands on a nearby rag, the tension heightening as you watched them and then met his eyes again. You had always had a thing for those wonderful hands of his.

“I guess you could say that, yeah,” he nodded, his big brown eyes warm and sincere and you knew what he wanted to say but didn’t right then.

Instead of pressing further, you nodded, thinking this might be the most fun lesson you ever had the pleasure of teaching anyone as you got right into it.

“Well...I mean, first you have to start off in a stationary position. That helps,” he was closer now, and your cheeks flashed a soft tinge of pink as the space between you lessened. You didn’t usually have it in you to be playful, but decided to gently hop up on the hood of the Ecto in an attempt to bring him closer. “Come a little closer than that. Can’t do a thing from that far away.”

You moved to scoot nearer to the edge of the hood, willing Ray closer and practically beaming as he closed the space between you both more and more with each step.

Had anyone else sat on the hood like this, Ray might have gotten finicky, but the sight of you so close to the car he loved so much actually only ended up getting him going even more.

“It definitely helps,” he rubbed the back of his neck now, seeing that this had clearly turned into something beyond just a lesson in kissing techniques. You could smell his cologne now that he was so close, which only seemed to set your senses on overdrive even further.

“Now, uh...do you know where your hands go?”

His eyebrows raised in what seemed like a mix of curiosity and confusion, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched now that he stood directly in front of you.

“My hands?”

“Yeah. They go on the hips of whoever you’re kissing,” the mood had certainly shifted now, and you felt more daring than you ever had before. A timid smile crossed your face as Ray allowed you to guide his hands to the appropriate place, and the realization that this was definitely about to happen made your stomach do leaps.

“Hips, got it.” God, his hands were so strong and steady and you didn’t even care if this got engine grease on your jeans, it was just thrilling to have him this close.

“Okay, now look into my eyes. Eye contact is important.” The both of you gave a shy, breathy chuckle as your eyes met, and you playfully shoved Ray’s chest. “Come on, we’ve gotta take this seriously if you want to learn anything.”

“Sorry, I get a little skittish with these things,” he admitted, and you shook your head with a smile.

“It’s okay, but the lesson isn’t quite over yet,” you said, your cheeks noticeably warmer. The tension was enough to make your heart race.

“Alright, and uh...after that?”

“Well, uh...my hands go here,” you reached up to loop your arms around his neck, inevitably bringing him directly between your legs and causing Ray to clear his throat.

“How do you, uh...I mean, how do you know that that happens every time?”

“I watch a lot of TV, I guess,” you managed a soft laugh with this, “now, uh...close your eyes.”

Ray’s heart was pounding. Was this seriously about to happen?

“Close my—? Oh, yeah, okay.” He nodded a bit, doing as you said and knowing he had wanted this for what felt like forever. He was so handsome up close, and you couldn’t believe your luck.

It was time to go in for the kill, and you didn’t waste a second.

Leaning in, the first contact was soft and exploratory, and it took Ray a moment to figure out exactly how to respond. But once he got the angle right, it was everything you had described and more.

The music swelled on the radio nearby, and you thought you could’ve melted right then and there.

‘The minutes that we missed

idle lips that should’ve kissed

and now gently together

The first kiss lasts forever

She loves me, she loves me

Oh and she loves me, all the time…’

Tilting his head a bit, Ray found just the right angle, and one kiss turned into what felt like a million. Your hands made their way into his hair, that hair you loved so much that often seemed to fly out in all directions.

His lips were soft and very pleasant to kiss, and it occurred to you that he must use lip balm of some kind. Ray himself couldn’t believe this was happening. He honestly couldn’t fathom how he had been lucky enough to end up kissing you like this, but he was, and he was putting everything he had into it.

Ray’s mind moved at a million miles a minute. All he could think about was how it felt when you moved in a rhythm with him, how soft your lips were, your soft body, and how GOOD you smelled—

He nearly sighed as he felt your leg brace around him to bring him in as close as possible, gripping your jeans to pull you close by your hips in return.

You nearly melted into a puddle on the floor at the feeling of his grip, so strong and firm on you like he couldn’t bear to leave any space between the two of you at all.

He must have shaved that morning, you thought, having expected him to have at least a little stubble and feeling surprised that there was none. Where on earth had Ray learned to kiss so well? Boy would Venkman have egg on his face if he knew about THIS.

Unfortunately for you both, you had to break away and breathe at some point, just looking at each other until you finally managed to speak.

“Well, uh...Venkman was wrong. Way wrong. Wow.”

“It was...I mean, was it like you said? Butterflies and—and all that for you too?”

“Are you kidding?” You laughed, “sheesh, I didn’t know you had that in you. You wouldn’t have any trouble hooking any woman you wanted if you kissed her like that.”

He seemed surprised and incredibly flattered, looking down and then back up at you with a grin and eager brown eyes.

“Was it obvious at all that I was referring to you?”

“I kind of hoped that was the case,” both of you grinned then, the final chorus of the song fading out in the background as the spring breeze blew in once more.

‘She loves me, she loves me

Oh and she loves me all the time…’

You couldn’t resist leaving a sweet peck on Ray’s cheek just because you could, earning a bright smile from him as he got a somewhat playful gleam in his eye.

“The guys are gonna be gone for the rest of the evening, and I don’t have anything else planned...would you want to grab some dinner with me?”

“Sure, but only if we can do more of this afterwards,” you giggled, and Ray helped you off the hood of the Ecto to stand you up and kiss you so that he could press you flush against him now. You were sure you looked like a cartoon character with birds chirping around your head as he pulled away.

“You drive a hard bargain,” Ray said, unable to keep from grinning as he took your hand, “but you’ve got yourself a deal.”

What a lesson to teach with anyone, you thought. He was a fast learner, that was for sure.

Picking up your purse, the two of you headed out, and you couldn’t help humming that lovely chorus to yourself one last time.

‘She loves me, she loves me

Oh and she loves me all the time…’

#ghostbusters #dan aykroyd #ray stantz #ray stantz x reader #ray stantz fanfic #ghostbusters fanfiction

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

If you are taking Phasmo requests: There was a round in the latest stream where Impulse spent way too much time near the ghost and had to borrow extra sanity pills from the others just to keep himself going. The interesting part is: his internet cut out partway through the round, and if I remember correctly it didn't come back until the mission was done and they were all safe again.it kinda made me think...what if it all just finally got to be too much and his character passed out? Do with that what you will, I'm just really interested to see how you write the sanity mechanic and the effects of that :)

i love phasmo :D

...

Impulse leaves the farmhouse and heads back into the truck, disappointed with himself. He’s spent so much time in the ghost room but not had a single reading on the spirit box. It must be something he’s doing wrong.

The board in the truck says his sanity is low. He’s already taken his sanity pills but he can’t just give up now. He knows he must be SO close to getting a reading.

“Hey Tango, can I have your sanity pills?” Impulse asks over the radio.

“Um… sure. If you want.”

Impulse takes Tango’s pills, deciding not to mention the fact that he also took Skizz’s pills less than ten minutes ago.

He heads back into the building and goes straight to the ghost room. Immediately, he can feel a squirming in his stomach and a heavy kind of dizziness making the room spin slightly around him.

Sanity pills aren’t a substitute for letting sanity regain naturally, so Impulse is still suffering from the effects of the previous times he’s been in this room. Deep down, he knows it’s not good for his health to spend so much time here. But he just has to get these clues.

“Are you here?” he asks his spirit box.

Only static as a response.

He spends another ten minutes in the room, ignoring the horrifying breathing noises coming from the corner. For some reason, the ghost is not feeling chatty anymore and refuses to talk to him through the spirit box.

Finally, Impulse gets sick of it. “Linda Johnson, show yourself,” he snaps.

Immediately, the spirit box lights up: “DEATH.”

Impulse yelps and dashes out of the room, almost dropping his spirit box as he does. He pauses outside the door, his flashlight starting to blink.

“It’s hunting, Impulse, get outta there,” comes Joker’s voice over the radio.

After a moment, Impulse turns and runs. He can hear the footsteps, the breathing, the heartbeat, and he knows the ghost is right behind him. The pain and nausea are rising to almost overwhelming levels; it’s all he can do to force himself onward.

Finally, he bursts out of the front door and the noises go away. He doubles over, breathing heavily through exhaustion and nausea, trying to fill his lungs with as much fresh air as possible.

“Impulse, are you dead?” Joker asks through the walkie talkie.

“No,” Impulse responds.

He trudges back to the van, passing Tango and Skizz on his way. Joker is still inside the van, keeping an eye on the monitor for ghost orbs.

The last bottle of sanity pills catches his eye. “So, um… any ghost orbs yet?” Impulse asks casually.

“Not yet.” Joker glances at him and his eyes widen. “Whoa. Impulse, you look terrible.”

“Thanks.”

“No, really. Your eyes are BLOODSHOT, dude. You’re pale, you’re sweaty. Do you have a fever or something?”

Impulse blinks. He doesn’t feel sweaty; in fact, apart from the dizziness, he feels okay. And the nausea. And the churning in his stomach. And the splitting headache.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Can I take your pills?”

Joker stares at him, realisation dawning on him. “How much have you taken already?”

“Hey, I only took mine,” replies Impulse defensively. “And Tango’s. And I don’t think Skizz realised I took his too.”

“Oh my god!” Joker yelps. “Dude, your sanity’s at ZERO right now and that’s with THREE sets of pills?! You gotta tap out, man. You can’t go back in there.”

“I’m fine,” Impulse repeats firmly.

He reaches for the last bottle of sanity pills but his vision suddenly swims and he has to blink heavily a few times, his brain growing fuzzier and fuzzier by the second.

Joker jumps off his chair and captures Impulse’s hand before he can take the pills. “Impulse, STOP,” he orders. “This isn’t healthy.”

“I gotta get back in there,” Impulse argues weakly. “I gotta help Tangy and Skizz.”

“Since when do you call him “Tangy”?!” Joker tries to guide Impulse towards the chair. “Impulse, seriously, you’re too out of it. You gotta sit down and take it easy or something.”

Impulse pulls his wrist out of Joker’s grasp and stumbles back towards the shelf. But the nausea and dizziness are just too overwhelming, and just as he lifts his arm to reach for the pills again, his eyes roll back and he collapses to the ground.

“Impulse!” cries Joker in alarm. “Oh my god!”

He drops to his knees beside Impulse and shakes his shoulders, trying to wake his friend up. “Impulse! C’mon, man! W-Wake up!”

But when Impulse doesn’t stir, Joker hurriedly reaches for his walkie talkie, fumbling and almost dropping it in the process. “G-Guys, get back to the van. NOW.”

“Oh, what now?” comes Skizz’s annoyed voice over the radio. “We can’t do our job if you keep-!”

“Joker, what is it?” Tango’s voice interrupts, clearly sensing the urgency in Joker’s voice. “Is everything okay?”

“N-No!” Joker’s voice cracks. “Impulse passed out and now he won’t wake up!”

“What?!” Skizz gasps. “Okay, I’m on my way back.”

Joker waits anxiously until he sees Tango rushing towards him, with Skizz right behind him. Tango kneels down beside Impulse and quickly checks his pulse.

“His sanity’s at zero,” Joker reports shakily. “But I don’t think he should take any more pills. He already took three sets.”

“WHAT?!” screeches Skizz.

Tango exhales slowly, shaking his head. “Oh my god, no wonder he’s passed out. He shouldn’t even have had more than one set, let alone three.”

“Is he gonna be okay?” Skizz asks worriedly, taking Impulse’s hand. “He looks so pale.”

Tango grasps his friend’s shoulder reassuringly. “As soon as we get back to the lobby, his sanity will be restored and he should be fine. But now the question is: do we cut our losses and take the l on this one or do you wanna keep going?”

“There’s no way I’ll be able to concentrate now,” replies Skizz, his own face almost as pale as Impulse’s. “I just want Impulse to be okay.”

Tango nods. “Joker?”

Joker’s eyes glisten as he responds, “Man, I-I’m still traumatised from the image of him just dropping to the floor like a- like a sack of rocks. I’m fine with taking the loss.”

“Good, yeah, me too.”

Tango activates the van keypad, ending the round. The group wait as they’re transported back to the lobby.

Impulse awakens as he feels his sanity get restored, but as soon as his feet land on the floor of the lobby, his knees buckle and he pitches forward.

Thankfully, Tango reacts quickly and catches him, half-carrying him towards the sofa in the corner. He sits his friend down and stands back, arms folded, as Joker and Skizz come to stand next to him.

Impulse looks up to find all three of his friends watching him.

“Okay, what the hell was that?” Tango demands.

“I don’t know,” says Impulse quietly. “I’m sorry. But I feel better now. And it won't happen again.”

He tries to get up off the sofa but Tango takes hold of his shoulders and pushes him back down. “Not good enough. Impulse, I’ve never heard Joker sound so scared than when he came on the radio to tell us you’d passed out. At the very least, you owe him an explanation.”

Impulse’s eyes flicker to Joker, who glances away, unable to meet his gaze.

“You’re right,” he murmurs. “Joker, I’m sorry. I don’t have an explanation. I just pushed it too far and I should’ve listened to you guys. I’m really sorry.”

Tango and Skizz both glance at Joker, who hesitates for a moment before approaching Impulse and awkwardly patting his shoulder. “It… It’s okay. Do you feel okay now?”

“My head hurts and I feel exhausted, like I’ve been awake for ages.” Impulse inhales deeply. “I think I just need to rest.”

“Understandable, since you took, like, three times the recommended dose of sanity pills,” Tango says. “We’ll call it here for today, then. Just… don’t do that again, please.”

“I won’t. Those sanity pills taste even worse the more you take.”

“That’s not what I meant. Though you should definitely not do THAT again either.” Tango clears his throat. “Don’t scare us like that again.”

“Yeah, dude, I thought you’d just dropped dead in front of me,” Joker adds. “Like, dropped dead of insanity or an overdose or something. I’m not too stubborn to admit that I nearly had a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” says Impulse quietly. “I promise I won’t do it again.”

“Good.” After a moment, Tango smiles and also pats Impulse’s shoulder. “Let’s all go home and get some rest. We need it.”

Impulse nods. He regrets scaring his friends of course but more than that, he regrets losing sight of what’s important: the fact that it’s just a game and it’s supposed to be fun. He’s not supposed to drive himself to win at the detriment of his own health. He’ll have to make sure he remembers that in future.

“Good idea.”

#phasmophobia #skizzleman #impulsesv #tangotek #misterjoker #vaunna’s requests

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frenchbread-writes · 5 years

Text

Unexpected Reunion| {Enji Todoroki/Endeavor}

@unfaithfulmemories: Hi, I see that you are taking requests. Could I ask for an Endeavor x male reader Pro-hero that started dating Enji during their UA years but then Enji ghosted the reader and after a few years the reader decides to go on a dating app and reconnects with Enji without knowing it's him and it ends with a passionate night? Maybe a time skip where they are married and the reader adopts the Todoroki kids under his name

I MOVED ACCOUNTS

I’m so happy that you asked me to write about endeavor since he’s literally one of my favs

The story’s ending might be a bit eh but I’m proud of the overall story so I hope you still like it😊😊

Pairing: Endeavor x Male!Reader

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of abuse, implied NSFW

Requests: Closed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Hawks suggested that he should consider meeting someone after being single for an admittedly long amount of time, Enji promptly shut the smaller man down. Between trying to maintain his duties as the #1 Hero and fixing the rift he caused within his family, he had no time to even think of trying to enter the dating scene.

The #2 Hero still tried to convince him until He said how Endeavor was a quote: “Lonely old man who needed to get some.”

After that, the larger man snapped, glaring at the winged hero. Flames growing larger in anger as he growled out how “his love life was none of Hawks’ business” and then stomped out of the room.

But now there he was The Endeavor, sitting in his bedroom after his shift, on his phone staring at the dating app sign up screen, blushing. Cursing himself for acting so childish he finally started filling out his information into the required boxes.

It started off easy enough just the usual information:

Name: Enji Todoroki

Username: Endeavor#1

Gender, email, number, and password.

Though it was the last question that made him pause.

Sexual preference

It should be obvious, he liked women, but even having said that his finger still hovered over the screen. It didn’t feel right. He thought of his previous relationships, which was admittedly a small amount to remember, and.. Nothing.

He had felt no attraction to the people he had been with previously, even thinking of a woman’s body did nothing for him if anything, he felt the opposite of how he thought he should. But there was that one time in UA where he experimented, he dated another man it was only for a little while, about 2 months. He couldn’t remember his name but he could clearly remember those (e/c) eyes and how they made him feel. He felt heat prickle the top of his ears and spread down to the back of his neck.

He swallowed thickly and idled there for a few more moments staring at the screen before he took a deep breath and pressed the male option and pressed sign up before he could change his mind.

Now all that’s left is setting up his profile.

Description, he thought for a moment before typing:

“Looking for a romantic relationship with someone who can be independent and not a pushover.”

Now for photos.. how do you take decent photos?

He went through other profiles to see what kind of photos he should take.

The most common ones were selfies and.. shirtless mirror pictures. It’s ridiculous and he should delete the damn app and curse Hawks for giving him the idea in the first place.

But here he was, standing in his bathroom in front of the large mirror with his hero costume on flexing for the camera, the next few photos were of him with his flames turned off and without a shirt, and the last pictures were of him in a suit that hugged his body in all of the right places and showed off his muscles through the stretched fabric around his arms, chest, and thighs.

He stared at the photos he took and deleted the worst ones, being left with about 4 photos.

“Good enough.” He muttered as he uploaded them to his profile

now all that's left is to explore potential candidates worthy of being in a relationship with him.

Over the next few days not one person on the app piqued his interest in the slightest, and the ones who were brave enough to message him first were disregarded, they weren’t of any interest or not worthy of being spared even a second of his time.

He sighed as he shut off his phone and flopped onto his bed, dissatisfied and disappointed by his lack of success. He drifted off to sleep hoping to have more success.

He did not have more success. The men he met up with were either easily intimidated and had no backbone or were able to stand their ground and look him in the eye but immediately made their sleazy intentions clear, which is not what he was looking for and it clearly states in his description what the type of relationship he is interested in.

It wasn’t until a few more days passed he got a notification from the app as he walked out of his agency saying he was matched with another person, he grumbled and prepared to swipe it away but the name caught his eye, it seemed familiar but where had he seen it before?

He didn’t get a chance to think about it when he received a message.

“OMG Enji it’s actually you!!”

Such casual use of his first name threw him off, and another ping alerted a new message.

“It’s me (Y/N) we dated in back in high school!!”

That’s why the name sounded so familiar, it was you the male he dated in high school.

He stared at his phone for a moment, all he had to do was respond with something kind.

“Yes I remember you being a thorn in my side”

‘Why am I like this?’ he thought

“Is that why you were an asshole and radio silent on me?”

He blushed, oh right, he was so obsessed with becoming number one that he cut all ties with anyone he deemed useless at helping him achieve his place at the top.

Thinking about it, that wasn’t one of his best choices.

“I apologize for my actions in the past I hope you can forgive my childish behavior, you have every right to be angry with me”

“I was kidding you dummy but if you really want to make it up to me you could look up from your phone screen.”

His brow arched in confusion at the message, look up why would he- oh.

He didn’t know what to do, you were standing there smirking, the sight making heat spread across his cheeks, you were stunning.

You had changed a lot since he had seen you at UA, your muscles are larger and more defined, scars littered your arms ranging from small light scars to large dark ones, gained from years of working with machines and different kinds of equipment no doubt.

You raised a brow “So are you just gonna stand there checking me out or are you going to take me out on a date?”

He jolted and cleared his throat, “I apologize, you surprised me, I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”

You sighed “You’re still as stiff as you were back in high school, we need to do something about that.”

What did you mean by that? He wouldn’t have to wait long to find out, as you fished a pen out of your pocket, grabbed his hand and scribbled something on the palm of his hand.

“Here’s my number call me later.” You winked before walking off.

He was stunned, you were just a normal guy who asked him to call you, so why was his heart pounding in his chest, palms sweaty, and an extreme heat covering his face that had nothing to do with his quirk?

After he composed himself Enji took his phone out and added your contact, now he had to wait until later that day to contact you.

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

After the encounter, the few hours that remained in his shift that day seemed to drag on forever. He was antsy to end the day, only a few more minutes, all he had to do was finish his reports then he could change and go home. That was easier said than done but he managed.

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

When he made it to his room he immediately whipped out his phone fumbling with it before opening a conversation with you.

“Hello, it’s Enji”

Not even a minute later you replied

“Hey! You ready to take me out?”

You were so direct and straight to the point, it was amazing.

“Yes, where shall I meet you?”

You sent him the location and time.

“8:30 Don’t be late ;)”

It was 6:00 so he had time to prepare, but as he sat there staring at his messages he couldn’t help a smile from creeping onto his face.

“So who were you talking to that’s making you smile at your phone?” The soft voice of his daughter made him jolt, smile immediately slipping from his features.

“N-nothing!” He yelled

She chuckled and prepared to leave the room, but before she could leave the doorway, Enji called out for her.

He blushed “W-wait! Actually, I-I need your.. help with something”

She turned to see a flushed Endeavor staring at his feet.

“I need your help looking for something to wear for a d-date”

She was taken aback, him going on a date, it was.. unexpected to say the least, but she couldn’t help the warm smile from tugging at her lips. He’s finally doing something positive and trying to move past the negativity.

Fuyumi sighed “Ok I’ll help”

He looked up to her grateful and gave a silent thanks, now he had to get ready to meet you near the train station and start the date.

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

Which is where he found himself wearing one of his casual button-down shirts and form-fitting jeans. ‘I hope this is good enough’ he thought, glancing at his appearance as he waited for you to show up.

It was now around 30 minutes after you were supposed to be there, Enji now tapping his foot in impatience, nervousness now replaced with annoyance. Grumbling “How dare he make me wait this long” under his breath.

He whipped his phone out about to send you a message when he heard. “Hey! Sorry, I’m late!” Your voice sounding sheepish. He huffed “You better have a good explanation as for why you kept me waiting” he stared at you expectantly.

You chuckled and said, “Well I simply lost track of time”

“Now let’s get going we’re wasting daylight” taking his wrist you started dragging him off to your destination.

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

The two of you walked for about 10 minutes before you stopped. “This place is amazing, I come here in the morning to get my coffee”

You gestured to a small cafe before walking in. “A lot of heroes usually come by here, it’s very lowkey and they give heroes a discount!”

he glanced around the interior taking note of the small number of people present.

After the two of you ordered you found a booth to sit and began to talk, well, you did most of the talking. You didn’t chat about anything in particular just catching up about what happened after high school. This went on for about an hour after that Enji slowly started to open up, talking more and eventually, he began smiling and laughing with you.

But sadly the date had to end eventually, that left you with Enji walking you home. You couldn’t help but notice from the corner of your eye that Enji was glancing at your hand more than usual, so you took initiative and took his hand in yours. In response, he stiffened up his face flushing, and grip a bit too tight you couldn’t help but tease him.

You looked up at him, winked, and brought his hand up to your lips and left a gentle peck on the back of his hand. Enji’s face burned as the two of you walked the rest of your way to your apartment, hands still Intertwined.

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

Walking up to your apartment you and Enji look at each other.

You sigh “So I guess this is my stop”

Enji offered a small nod in response and awkwardly opened his arms for a hug.

Chuckling you accepted his embrace, soaking up his body heat hug lasting longer than usual. After about a minute you pull away from the hug your arms still around his torso, look at Enji and smile, a real smile and not one of your cocky ones “This was the best date I’ve had in a while, thanks”

Enji blushed “I had a great time as well and I hope we can do this again soon”

But as he said that he couldn’t stop staring at your lips you were so close and they looked so enticing, so he took a deep breath, steeled his nerves and took a chance and leaned in connecting your lips with a gentle kiss.

You weren’t expecting Enji to kiss you, so you froze for just a moment before kissing back, his lips were a bit chapped and it was obvious that he hasn’t done this in a while but to you it was great.

The kiss was innocent enough but as the kiss kept going it began to escalate. You felt something soft and warm press against your bottom lip you parted your lips and welcomed his tongue that entered your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, pressing up against his solid chest he responded by grabbing your waist and doing the same.

He had you pressed against the door panting when you heard it, the laughter you looked around him to see your nosey neighbor's kid was messing around at the park that was direct across from your apartment. You didn’t want your neighbor budding into your love life because her kid saw you kissing a stranger so you pulled away from Enji and pulled out your key to unlock the door.

The two of you barely closed the door before Enji was attacking your lips again. Not wasting a moment the two of you stumbled to your bedroom, a mix of heated moans, clumsy footsteps, and groping hands, the two of you discarding articles of clothing until the two of you were in just underwear.

Enji picked you up and pressed you down onto the mattress kissing down your jaw down to your neck and chest leaving red marks a he went.

He was prepared to be the dominant one until you somehow instantly flipped the two of you around making it where you were on top smirking at him and holding a condom in between your teeth.

You may be the one on his receiving end but Enji knew that you were far from being submissive for him, as you tore open the wrapper with your teeth and looked at him like he was your prey.

He was in for a long night.

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

Waking up the next morning the first thing Enji did was to sit up and stretch until he felt the familiar pop of his joints, he looked around his surroundings and noticed that you weren’t in the room with him. Your clothes were missing from the floor and a pair of clothes were neatly folded on the foot of the bed for him.

Quietly he got dressed and went to open the door to exit the room, immediately he was hit by the smell of eggs and bacon.

Walking into the kitchen he blushed as he caught sight of you standing in front of the stove, wearing nothing but a T-shirt tucked into short shorts. They did nothing to hide all of the marks that covered your neck and thighs left behind from the night before.

He couldn’t help but admire your beauty and the way your hips swayed as you quietly hummed a tune under your breath.

“It’s rude to stare you know,” you say over your shoulder

He jumped “S-sorry I didn’t mean to”

You smiled at him and playfully rolled your eyes “It’s fine and stop being so stiff around me you’ve seen me naked and I don’t let just anyone do that ya know”

You turn off the stove and spin around with two plates of bacon and eggs in your hands “now sit, I made breakfast”

Enji sat at the spot at your small dining table that you prepared for him and began eating.

You rubbed the back of your neck “I know it’s not the best but it’s the only thing I know how to make without needing adult supervision”

“It tastes perfectly fine, thank you for making it” Enji defended

You opened your mouth to deny it but his sincere expression made the words dry up and all you could do was let out a sigh and smile back at him.

Enji wanted to see that smile every day.

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

After breakfast was finished and everything was put in the sink you and Enji sat on your couch, drank tea, and talked. Mostly just chatting until the conversation about being in a relationship came up.

“(Y/N) there is something I need to talk to you about before any of this continues” Enji looked directly into your eyes.

The two of you held eye contact until he looked down and sighed.

He began telling you of his past, of his goal the reason he left you before, the stuff he’s done to his son and the emotional and physical abuse he’s put the entirety of his family through. Not once did you interrupt him, you let him speak and reveal everything he had done.

After he was finished speaking he couldn’t face you, you must’ve been disgusted with him not that he would blame you. He expected you to reject him, tell him to leave not wanting anything to do with a monster like him.

But that’s not what happened, instead, you reached forwards and cupped his face in your hands and placed a delicate kiss to his lips.

You pulled away “Thank you for telling me, what you did was terrible and you deserve any punishment that you receive.” You paused “But I can see you are trying to change and become a better person.”

You looked him directly in the eyes “And that’s all that matters is that you’re trying and as long as you’re trying I will stand by your side.”

After your speech, Enji only noticed the tears falling from his eyes when you started wiping them away, he latched his arms around your torso pressing his face into your chest, shaking, and sobbing out a chorus of “thank you’s.”

You simply smiled and held him as he cried, you didn’t care that he was staining your shirt with his tears instead, you rubbed circles on his back, placed soft kisses on the crown of his head, and whispered that everything was gonna be okay.

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

Ever since that day you and Enji have been on several more dates taking it slow and getting to know each other.

It was about a year later when he invited you over to his home, that was odd considering he hasn't invited you over before because he hasn’t told his kids about you, his daughter Fuyumi being the exception.

Walking up to Enji’s door, your heart was beating a mile a minute it was the first time you were going to meet his children and you were nervous as hell.

Taking a deep breath you lifted a hand and knocked firmly on the door. Not even a minute later the door opened with Enji greeting you with a quick kiss, a thank you for coming before he pulled you inside.

“So I have informed them of someone I wanted them to meet but I haven't told them who exactly they’re meeting” he whispered

As soon as you walked into the living room 3 pairs of eyes were on you, it was an intense staring contest between the four of you.

Enji cleared his throat and gestured to the smaller man “So everyone this is (Y/N) my boyfriend, I hope all of you can get along.”

You took that as your cue to speak “Hey guys nice to finally meet you!” You gave them one of your signature smiles and slap Enji’s back “This loser can’t stop talking about you.”

Enji glared at you “H-hey!” His kids snorted

You ignored him opting to sit next to the boy with half red and half white hair “You must be Shouto” you pinch his cheek lightly “You’re just as adorable as the time I saw you at the sports festival!” He simply blushed and let out a small “thank you.”

Next, you looked to the taller boy with white hair and raised your hand for a high-five “You’re Natsuo!” The boy gave your hand a gentle slap “I love your shirt by the way” you gestured to his shirt that said “FRONT” on it. He gave you a smile “Thanks, finally someone who appreciates my sense of fashion, unlike somebody.” He glanced over to Fuyumi.

You gave her a gentle smile and held out your hand for her to shake “It’s very nice to meet you Fuyumi, I hope I’ve made a good impression on you so far?”

She chucked “Yes you have (Y/N)”

After that you had pleasant conversations with the siblings, getting along with them even Shouto seemed to perk up when you spoke to him.

Enji watched as you effortlessly seemed to make them warm up to you, fitting in so easily it went much better than he thought it would.

He couldn’t help but stare at the empty space on your finger on your left hand and feel the shape of the small velvet box that was at the bottom of his pocket.

Soon his children will have another father, the Todoroki family will have a new member and everyone can take a step forward.

He’ll have to wait until the time is right but for now, he is content with watching his family bond with his boyfriend and future husband.

#endeavor #bnha enji #enji todoroki #endeavor x reader #endeavor x male reader #bnha x male reader #x male reader #male reader #enji todoroki x male reader #endeavor x male #frenchbread's writing

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orionares · 3 years

Text

BTHB: Comatose, Part 3

---------------------------------------------- The tears come easily.

For the next hour or many, Elliot lets the tears fall for everything in the nine month battle against William Lewis.

He cries for the pain- the cigarette burns, the days without sleep, food or water, the trial, the damn Russian Roulette. His heart shatters at the dangerous possibility of Lewis inflicting the one trauma they had spent over a decade fighting against together.

When he runs out of tears, Elliot lays his head on the edge of the bed and blocks out the cacophony of nurses, doctors and staff working busily in the hall. There’s a throbbing headache that builds with every passing second of the truly dark, guilt fueled thoughts itching to spill over.

He’s already inches above the abyss; he can’t let this push him over.

“You know,” Elliot whispers, “I didn’t have any plans of how we’d discuss why I left. Writing the letter wasn't an impulse, but giving you the letter after Kathy’s death. Now, I- I wish I could rewrite it.”

He pauses to wipe the sudden heat from his face. “I- I would say that you shouldn’t forgive me. You shouldn’t, Liv. I don’t deserve- I…”

The stress induced twitch that Eli had identified during the failed intervention returns as Elliot twitches while pushing away the same dark thought that’s repeated in his mind since opening the file- This is on you.

A knock on the door breaks into his thoughts and he lifts his head to see Fin standing at the door, eyes flickering between Olivia and him.

“She’s fine,” Elliot yells out. “I, uh, know about Lewis.”

“Damn,” Fin mutters under his breath. He shakes his head before closing the room door closed behind him. The sergeant’s fatigue is clear as he moves slowly to an open chair on the opposing side and lowers himself down slowly. “Rollins tell you?”

Elliot glances back to Olivia. “You didn’t tell me about it.”

“Because it wasn’t something to say over the phone,” Fin shrugs, “and it wasn’t my story to tell. I wasn’t going to say You're alive and coming back? Great! By the way, Liv almost died while you were gone.”

“I think I had created some imaginative world of where she moved on but was ok while I was overseas. And then I’d created another fantasy where things settled and I’d close the case on Kathy’s murder and we’d,” Elliot reach out and rests his hand on Olivia’s, “reconnect. I’d beg, plead and woo my way back in earning her trust. And now-”

“Elliot, you screwed up,” Fin states, maintaining his calm demeanor, “You have your reasons for going radio silence and I get that, but it doesn’t change the fact that you abandoned her. And with Lewis- blaming yourself for what happened isn’t going to change the fact that it happened.”

Elliot opens his mouth to respond but Fin continues without missing a beat. “You think that you're the only one feeling guilty about that day? I was here, Stabler, and I still blame myself for what happened.”

Elliot nods weakly as Fin stands and circles the edge of the bed. The detective winces when Fin rests a hand on his shoulder and asks, “You are staying, right?”

The answer catches in his throat, leaving him left with another weak nod.

“Do you love her?”

“Am I that obvious?” Elliot chuckles. Fin rolls his eyes and repeats his question, “You love her?”

“Yeah.” Every time he says it aloud, finally admitting his love for Olivia, somehow brings a mixture of relief and guilt.

“So fight for her,” Fin advises. He pats her shoulder and heads for the door, calling for his shoulder, “Start by going home, getting something to eat and see your kids. And if you can’t bring yourself to leave, at least go get something to eat. Alright?”

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

She dreams of life as ‘the other woman.’

In this possibility, she meets Kathy in a cafe while dropping off Eli; however, unlike the handful of times she had met Kathy with Eli in reality, the usually hidden tension between them is out on the surface. She still has Noah, now no older than two years old. He's sitting in her lap babbling happily as the two women sit across from each other in thick silence.

Kathy fiddles with her coffee mug in her hands and avoids eye contact with Olivia. Her jaw is clenched, highlighting the tension across her face.

"Eli had a great week with us," Olivia stammers to Kathy, who puts up a hand to cut her off. Every weekend starts like this, the two women in Elliot Stabler's life staring each other down.

"You don't have to play nice, Olivia," Kathy retorts. She glances over her shoulder towards the bathroom where seven year old Eli has run off to. "You can just drop the kids off and then leave with your son. You certainly don't need to do it for me."

"But Elliot-"

"Elliot's gone, Olivia!" Kathy snaps. She pushes the cup to her left and ignores the drips of coffee that spills over the edge. "My husband chose you and my God, this arrangement of having to see you every other week feels like a jab in my heart!"

A jab in her heart.

She'd scream those words back at Kathy and plead for an understanding to her allowing Elliot to ghost her if she had the chance.

But Kathy had never believed Elliot had completely locked her out of their lives. Reality or not, to Kathy, she will always be the other woman.

The sound of Noah’s happy babbling disappears under the sudden ringing in Olivia’s ear. She isn't shifting seamlessly between possible outcomes like she had before- no, as the ringing intensifies, Noah, Kathy and the patrons of the small café disappear into darkness.

And for her? Olivia drifts into the darkness, unaware if she'll end up back in another possibility or back on solid ground.

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

“Oh My God.”

His eyes widen at his daughter’s voice from the doorway. Elliot sighs and lifts his forehead from the soft edge of the bed to see Kathleen staring mouth agape at Olivia.

And also Eli.

His youngest has his head low with his hair covering his eyes. Eli appears hesitant to be near him as he’s been so since the car accident and the failed intervention over a month earlier. Kathleen leads him into the room, fighting off the tears forming in her eyes at the sight of Olivia.

“Dad, I’m so sorry,” Kathleen sniffles. She approaches his side slowly and scans him head to toe with the same uneasiness and concern Kathy once would. “Is she- will she wake up?”

“They’ve weaned her off some medication that was allowing the brain to heal,” Elliot replies. He runs a hand over his face and then looks past his daughter to Eli. “Hey, Buddy.”

“We wanted to come by,” Kathleen explains with a quick glance to Eli warning- We came to this conclusion together, right ? Right?

“Yeah, I should have come home,” Elliot stammers. He stands up before his body rocks slightly with fatigue. Kathleen immediately grabs his arm and guides him back down in his seat.

“Dad, when was the last time you slept or gotten something to eat?” She asks. Eli’s eyes flicker with worry but he doesn’t move from the door frame. The fatigue that’s been at bay since speaking with Fin comes in the form of a tension headache.

“I’ll grab something from the cafeteria downstairs,” Kathleen exclaims without a further word from her father. She quickly pulls off her grey peacoat jacket and lays it on the foot of the bed. Kathleen quickly walks over to the door, whispers something in Eli’s ear and is out the door before Elliot’s rattled brain realizes it.

Eli takes a step closer to the bed and tucks his hand in his pocket. Half expecting him to pull out his cellphone, Elliot straightens up in his chair when his son instead stairs directly at Olivia with trepidation.

“Did Mom like her?” Eli asks in a small voice. It’s one of the few rare times that Elliot’s heard Eli ask about his Mom directly since the funeral. That’s on me, he thinks anxiously.

“She-uhm- I...your Mom and Oliva had a unique relationship,” Elliot states as blankly as he can. The conversation about the ‘other woman’ has been one that he’d hope to have years from now. “They got along-”

“Why did she keep asking about Olivia?”

Elliot watches his son avoid eye contact with him, instead choosing to stare at his father’s hand, once more resting on top of Olivia’s. “Because your mother didn’t believe that I cut her off. Your mother was so good at hiding things from you about what had happened in New York. We tried our absolute hardest to build a life for you in Rome outside of the life we had in New York.”

Eli takes another step closer, leaving an inch between the foot of the bed and himself. He opens his mouth and then shuts it, scrunching his nose while rethinking his next words. “Did you and Olivia break up?”

“What?” Elliot exclaims. He snorts out a laugh and then mutters, “No, Eli. Olivia and I were never together. She respected your Mom, your siblings and you.”

Elliot watches his son’s brow furrow in concentration just as Noah had done the night before. “Everyone kept talking about Olivia behind your guys’ back. I thought she was a story or a secret that we weren’t allowed to talk about. And then we came home,” Eli admits shyly, “ You look at her different than Mom.”

The detective fidgets with his wedding band with his thumb and index finger, replaying the bits and pieces of the failed intervention that he can remember. His kids had gravitated to Olivia like muscle memory, especially Kathleen and even Eli, from his memory, had appeared somewhat trusting of the strange woman in the apartment.

“Dad?” Eli’s voice breaks into his thoughts with awe, “You like her.”

Elliot looks over to his unconscious ex-partner and sighs as he takes in the half inch cuts on her chin and forehead. Admitting the truth he’s dodged for two decades to his youngest feels like a betrayal without Kathy by his side.

How does one tell their child- I stayed with your Mom even though I shouldn’t have?

He flinches when the presence of his son appears right next to him. The absence of an answer, a denial or an attempt at a misdirect is more than enough to admit what everyone around him already knows.

“Did Mom know?”

Elliot nods and chokes, “Yeah. She did. I’m sorry, Eli.”

Elliot once more expects an outburst or a retreat from his son but instead he feels his son’s long hair and chin rest on his shoulder.

It’s everything he needs at this moment.

“..Sty…”

Elliot turns his head towards Eli and asks, “What?”

Eli jerks back, eyes wide from the sudden move. “ I didn’t say anything.”

Elliot’s heart drops into his stomach and he freezes up. His ex-partner- the love of his life- may be waking and all he can feel is fear. Questions explode in his mind- what if she doesn’t remember what happened? What if there are lingering problems? What if she decides that she doesn’t want anything to do with me?

What if she never forgives me for Lewis?

“Dad, I think she’s waking up!”

What if I lose her?

“Dad! Should I call the doctor?”

Breathe.

Elliot finally brings himself out of his daze and finds himself looking directly into a pair of brown eyes. He’d cry in relief if he could.

Instead, Elliot runs a hand down her cheek, whispering, “Hey, Liv. Welcome back.”

A/N: One....ish chapter left.

#olivia benson #elliot stabler #law and order svu #svu #bad things bingo #bad things happen bingo #bensler #law and order oc

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steal-yourdadsgender · 4 years

Text

Don’t Change, Not Yet

Pairing: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones

Synopsis: "The calls kept happening again, and again. But the first call was the only time she heard his voice. She usually got a call from him only once a month. They never tried to say anything, tried to make up for anything. Jughead would call when the moon had been up for at least a solid hour, and Betty would answer. She would always answer. Then they would sit, thousands of miles away, yet together."

or- during the time jump, Jughead and Betty call one another until there fateful reunion in Riverdale.

It had been seven years since they had last seen each other. So much had changed. Jughead was a published author, and his beanie was long forgotten. Betty was an FBI agent and no longer wore her hair up in her signature ponytail. It now hung low by her hips. It was longer than Jughead had remembered it.

Jughead saw Betty first. He had gotten off his bus and walked the remainder of the way to town. As Archie had said on the phone, the town was one large dumpster fire. Jughead would be surprised if there was even anything salvageable in this big heap of nothing. But the one thing that managed to stay the same was Pop’s. That was where he saw her. She seemed to be the first one there of the people that Archie called. Jughead distantly wondered if Archie called her first.

She was talking to Pop Tate and she was as gorgeous as ever. In fact, seven years did her unexplainable favors. Even at 25 now, she seemed to radiate a youthful glow that should have been distinguished many years before.

He was walking up the parking lot and couldn’t seem to move his eyes from what he could see of her. But he knew in the back of his head, no matter how much he reached for her, he could never have her. She was always just out of reach. And he didn’t even know if she was reaching for him either.

When he opened the door and the familiar bell rung, that’s when she saw him. She turned, her hair swinging with her body, and her eyes sat on his. He expected something to happen. Like how they describe it in the books. The fireworks or the electricity. But all her saw were her eyes. Even when everything else had changed around them, her eyes stayed the same. The same warm, inviting eyes that he fell in love with ten years ago.

Betty didn’t expect to see Jughead when she turned at the sound of the bell. But there he was. He looked so different, yet exactly the same. His beanie was nowhere in sight and he had light stubble growing just above his lips. Betty feels an involuntary sigh escape her body at the sight. It was still Jughead. He may have different style clothing, and be a published author now, but she also saw the stiff, awkward shoulders and the guarded eyes. She used to see it every time they went out somewhere together. Social anxiety.

“Betty. Hi” he mutters and she nods. Not Betts, or Juliet anymore. Just Betty. She couldn’t say she blamed him. The last time she had even heard his voice was six years ago. It was a year after they had all departed Riverdale and late into the night. She was studying when she got the call.

Assuming something bad had happened, Betty picked up the phone. But all she got on the other end was a drunk Jughead. He rambled to her about god knows what. Betty wasn’t even sure he knew he was talking to her until he said her name. “Betty?”. His voice sounded so broken when so said it, yet so full of hope. Like one large, thousand-piece puzzle. He was shattered, but there was the hope of being put back together again. Only to be broken once again and shoved away to collect dust. It had hurt her to hear him like that.

But she responded. She had said, “Yes, Jug?”. She whispered it, as if scared to loud of a noise would scare him away.

“I love you”.

That was all he said. After he uttered those three forbidden words, the line was silent for a deafening two minutes. Betty didn’t dare hang up the phone, dangling on that last thread of hope that he would say something else. Anything at all.

But he didn’t. The line stayed quiet for two hours before she fell asleep. Even though not a word or noise was heard, Betty knew he was there. Even drunk, Jughead had sat by his phone, listening to her faint breathing, knowing she was there too.

The calls kept happening again, and again. But the first call was the only time she heard his voice. She usually got a call from him only once a month. They never tried to say anything, tried to make up for anything. Jughead would call when the moon had been up for at least a solid hour, and Betty would answer. She would always answer. Then they would sit, thousands of miles away, yet together.

It wasn’t as tensed as the first time, as the numbers of calls slowly grew. Betty would occasionally pick up a book, or she would listen to the soft clicking of Jughead’s typewriter as he wrote. Betty distantly wondered if that was the typewriter that she gifted to him that he was writing with. Jughead would work on his book, knowing his inspiration was so far away from him, yet right there as well. When the time grew on the line, Jughead would occasionally hear Betty humming to herself. It was a beautiful sound, one that would have small colorful birds singing back in some invisible fairy tale land.

There was a soft calm between them during these calls. And yet, even though they didn’t speak a single word into their phones, they would count down the minutes that they could call again, and miss each other when the phone hung up.

Neither directly hung up on one another. Sometimes, Jughead would stay awake longer than Betty and hear the soft sighs of her sleep. Or when Betty stayed awake longer, she could hear Jughead’s incoherent mumbling on the other end. But she could never make out any words. When the calls ended, it was usually because a phone was dead in the morning.

This routine lasted for five years. It started one year after they all left, and ended suddenly one year before they all returned to Riverdale.

Betty never received a reason for the sudden ghosting, if that’s something she could even call whatever’s been going on between her and Jughead, and she felt no need to ask. Maybe it was better that way, she thought, having no idea that was what Jughead had thought to himself before she stopped calling.

Now, here they are. Standing before one another once again, feeling more connected than they should.

“Hey, Jughead”.

Neither one makes any move to say anything else, or more any closer. They simply studied one another.

Finally, it’s Jughead who breaks the silence. He nervously clears his throat and narrow his eyes. “Archie call you?”, he asks. He doesn’t break eye contact with her once as he spoke, and she doesn’t attempt to either.

“Yeah, this was the first time I’ve heard from him since he left for the army” she agrees, and shoves her hands in her pocket nervously.

Jughead felt a small, guilty amount of pride at that. That’s he’s heard from her more than Archie. That maybe, just maybe, she still loved him just as much as he loved her.

Six years ago, may have been the last time betty has heard Jughead’s voice, but it wasn’t the last time Jughead heard Betty’s. About three years into their calls, he heard her voice once again. He was asleep and woke up. It had been late into the night, maybe two in the morning. She must have assumed he was still asleep, because she was talking very fast and very much to him.

“… and I’ve been lying to my therapist, and everyone about it. My own mom doesn’t even know. Does that make me a bad person? Not telling my mother about something like this?” she clearly didn’t expect an answer, as that was the only logical reasoning for why she was talking at all.

Jughead now wished he had answered her. Or said something, anything. He had learnt what she meant a month later in the news. The Trash Bag Killer. From what he read, the guy had her for a few weeks at most. At some point, he had to just stop reading.

Even with the minimal makeup Betty wore now, he could see the bags hidden under her eyes. She could hide anything from anyone, but not from him.

“Me too. It’s been radio silence from everyone. Except, well…” he says. Betty answers quick and sharp, “Yeah, I know”. Her tone clearly conveyed she didn’t want to talk about it. Which was fine with him, because he wasn’t exactly in a Chatty Cathy mood about that particular subject.

“What about Veronica, you heard from her?” Jughead asks, and Betty shakes her head. Unsure of himself, he moves around and pulls himself into a booth. “Can I get you anything?” the waitress, her name tag read Tabitha, asked. Jughead could swear that name sounded familiar.

“No, I’m good. Thanks” Jughead mutters as Betty sits beside him.

“No burger anymore, Jones?” Betty asks and he rolls his eyes. “Things change” he whispers simply.

“Yeah, I know” she replies, copying his simple tone. It frustrated him and he didn’t know why. They both equally gave up one each other. Yet there was a nagging feeling in the back of his head asking one question. If they gave up, then why keep calling? Why keep answering?

When night fell and they all went their separate ways, Betty didn’t expect the call from Jughead. After all, they had just seen one another again. It would make no sense for him to call her. Yet, as Betty was dusting off a cup from the kitchen cabinet, her phone rang.

And, without hesitation, she picked it up.

They supposed, the entire world could change, but they wouldn’t.

The End

ao3

#riverdale #fanfiction #riverdale fanfiction #bughead #Betty x jughead #no barchie in this household #kinda angsty #ao3 #I dont know #also on ao3 #angst #fanfic #Betty cooper #jughead jones #Betty Cooper x jughead jones #Betty/jughead #jughead jones x Betty cooper #jughead x betty

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wolfinshipclothing · 4 years

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Summary: I need to hurry up, she kept thinking. Any minute now, her dad could come home early, tired from a lazy dayshift. Or her mom could drop with the excuse she forgot something, and use the opportunity to check out on her daughter. Her independent, smart and intelligent daughter. Then Connie would have to explain to her what said daughter was doing sitting on her bed, in her bathrobe, fresh from the shower, holding a blood-stained shirt over her forearm, with a pair of scissors resting at her side.

The same pair of scissors that went missing a month ago, by the way.

Excerpt:

But what about you? You never tell me what's up," said Steven and Connie perceived the sourness. "How's cram school going?"

"It's going," she said flatly.

"That's good. How about Lion? I haven't seen the little rascal since forever."

"You know him. He comes and goes as he pleases."

"Right, right." Silence. She wished Steven would stop asking questions and just talk. "Connie, are you alright? You sound a bit under the weather; and I am the one about to be soaked."

Steven's attempt at humor was ignored; the red lines over Connie's arm caught all her attention. There was not a discussion inside her head. There was a whole fucking debate, with a hundred people committee and a chairman that was chewing her nails as she waiting for the lunch break.

"I don't know," she said, choosing simple words.

"What do you mean? Did something happen or…?"

"It's just one of these days, you know?"

Steven's silence asked her to elaborate. The cuts of her arms seemed to shine brighter, mocking her for her weakness.

Welp, i came crawling back from my hole with this fic. Mind you its a very angsty, sensible fic bout self-harming and unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I wrote this because 1) its always Steven the one that is hurting and needs helps, and Connie the one who is there to put him back on his fic. Few times i have seen the opposite.

And 2) this has been a shitty year. To everyone in the world, obviously. Just have been very garbage to me. Or maybe I AM the one who was being garbage to myself. In any case, i haven’t been feeling well, and decided to write up my feelings into the characters i am currently hyper-fixating on.

Is it healthy? Who knows! But it DID made me feel better. I hope this fic, if it doesn’t trigger some catharsis in you guys, at least entertain you all for a while.

Anyway, that’s all. Happy Holidays and Happy New Year folks.

(You can also read it in Fanfiction, btw)

"You might imagine that a person would resort to self-mutilation only under extremes of duress, but once I'd crossed that line the first time, taken that fateful step off the precipice, then almost any reason was a good enough reason, almost any provocation was provocation enough. Cutting was my all-purpose solution." —Caroline Kettlewell, "Skin Game".

Connie’s mind was beyond herself; far, far away, where she couldn’t reach it. Her body was heavy; lead weight held together by rusted tin bolts. And Connie was trapped inside it, with no company but the stinging pain on her arm and the weight of the shirt she kept against it.

How long have I been like this? She wondered. It felt like hours. Her legs were like paper; where she not sitting on her bed, she would have already plummeted to the floor.

I need to hurry up, she kept thinking. Any minute now, her dad could come home early, tired from a lazy dayshift. Or her mom could drop with the excuse she forgot something, and use the opportunity to check out on her daughter. Her independent, smart and intelligent daughter. Then Connie would have to explain to her what said daughter was doing sitting on her bed, in her bathrobe, fresh from the shower, holding a blood-stained shirt over her forearm, with a pair of scissors resting at her side.

The same pair of scissors that went missing a month ago, by the way.

Connie lifted the shirt. The bleeding had stopped. The cuts were all dry out now —probably had been for a few minutes— but they still shined with a disgusting color. The marks from last time were underneath; red rivers over dried out canals. Feral slashes over healed scars.

Connie dropped her head onto her hands, elbows on her knees, and applied pressure over her temples. That usually helped her think.

“Stupid,” she said with a sore voice. “Stupid, stupid. You always do the same.”

Connie’s harming habit have come, less like a metaphorical descent into madness and more like a —also metaphorical— walk down a descending staircase, where each step would disappear behind you, leaving you no choice but to go further down, into the dark.

It gradually became a routine. If she’d messed up a test, she would spend all night studying the subject. If she’d snapped at her mom in a moment of hormonal-fueled rage, she would skip dinner —breakfast too, if possible. If she’d been so absorbed in her own world she’d ghosted her friends, she would train with her sword until her palms were all blistered. Small pinches of pain she could administer, in measurable doses and only when it was justified.

It was astounding how quickly she lost sight of what was measurable and justified.

But the real aggravating part of it, in Connie’s opinion, was how much of her time it takes. It’d taken her a whole morning of self-loathing for the static to take over her body. Once it did, she lost control and started attacking her outer forearm with swift, brutal slashes, instead of the controlled cuts she usually administered. When she saw what she’d done, she panicked and reached for her neatly folded white shirt. What a waste. She had barely bled a few fat drops, yet it was more than enough to ruin her favorite shirt.

She’d been quiet since then, holding the soon-to-be-rag over her arm and trying to grasp her slippery psyche at the same time. She could feel her body, but she wasn’t in it. Her brain was working itself to death, but she’d no control over its thoughts. Like Schrodinger’s cat, it was like she was there and not there at the same time. Alive and Dead. Connie has come to call this dissociative state ‘the limbo’. And she was knees deep in it now. And it must be past noon already!

If I could make my butt to get up and clean up this mess, maybe I could sit down and have some work done. Otherwise, this would be a lost day.

The thought loomed over her. A lost day. She couldn’t let that happen. Now she just had to find a way to get out of the fog of her mind…

The phone ringed. Connie as much as jumped from the bed, dropping the shirt and scissors on the floor. She reached for her phone on the table.

BISCUIT

Just left the hotel and hit the road. The engine sounds like it’s about to choke to death, tho. I hope it doesn’t break before reaching New Orleans. Call me when you have a break! Love you!

Connie sighed; her heart’s palpitations echoing in her ears. How ridiculous! Jumping to grab her phone as if she’d been caught. Like some bad horror movie; someone on the other side would said ‘you have been seen’ and then hang up, leaving Connie panicking like a fool. Ridiculous!

She grabbed the scissors and the shirt with one hand, the phone with the message she ought to respond in the other. She glanced at the bed; the sheets were wet, she ought to change those. Her arm was still stinging; she ought to treat the wounds. Also, she ought to get properly dressed. And her test was still on the desk, waiting for her…

Connie groaned and gravitated naturally towards the bed and felt into it. She’d never had trouble compartmentalizing before. She also had never been in the limbo this long before, however.

She found herself thinking of Steven; living on the open road, driving that tank with radio he calls ‘car’, doing whatever he wants, going whenever he wants to go —previously checking his rigorous list of places to go. Being whoever he wants to be.

This made Connie mad. She didn’t want to be mad. She rotated her phone in her hand several times, thinking.

I could call him, she thought. You are supposed to reach out when… in situations like this, right?

Her stomach grumbled with acid reflux. She definitely didn’t want to talk to Steven —nor anyone else, really. But hearing a friendly voice could be what she needs to get back on her feet.

She pressed the name on the screen and put the phone on speaker. It rang. Please don’t pick up, please don’t…

Schick.

“Hey Connie! What’s up?”

“Hey Steven. Are you busy?” she asked.

“Not at all. The road’s pretty calm. I think there is a storm coming though; there are some mean-looking clouds above me,” said Steven, a bit uncertain. “Are you on your break?”

In a manner of speaking. “Yeah. I just thought… you know, checking out on you.”

“Making sure I didn’t pick any new hitchhiker? I’ll let you know I haven’t done that since Miami Beach,” he laughed. “Seriously though, you should have seen the motel I crashed last night. ‘Sir-sleep-a-lot’ was the name, and it was great. There’d a real-looking imitation sword and shield above the bed! That’s the stuff you won’t see in any fancy-brand hotel.”

Connie smiled briefly. Despite everything that’d happened to Steven —and he really broke the limit of shit that could happen to a person—, he was still the same kind-hearted boy that got emotional over the simpler stuff.

“But what about you? You never tell me what’s up,” said Steven and Connie perceived the sourness. “How’s cram school going?”

“It’s going,” she said flatly.

“That’s good. How about Lion? I haven’t seen the little rascal since forever.”

“You know him. He comes and goes as he pleases.”

“Right, right.” Silence. She wished Steven would stop asking questions and just talk. “Connie, are you alright? You sound a bit under the weather; and I am the one about to be soaked.”

Steven’s attempt at humor was ignored; the red lines over Connie’s arm caught all her attention. There was not a discussion inside her head. There was a whole fucking debate, with a hundred people committee and a chairman that was chewing her nails as she waiting for the lunch break.

“I don’t know,” she said, choosing simple words.

“What do you mean? Did something happen or…?”

“It’s just one of these days, you know?”

Steven’s silence asked her to elaborate. The cuts of her arms seemed to shine brighter, mocking her for her weakness.

“I’m doing badly,” Connie said quickly. “I’m feeling real bad right now and I don’t even know why,” she added, only half-lying.

There was a long mmm on the other side of the line.

“Alright. I’m going home,” said Steven.

Connie’s heart started to race. “You can’t do that. You are driving... a-and your schedule-”

“I’ll just park on a side of the road. There are some nice trees I can park under. Then I’ll call Lion and be there in a flash.”

No, no, NO. “Steven, you really don’t have to.”

“It’s no problem at all! I want to be with you-“

“Steven, I don’t want to see you, OK!” Connie bolted upright, sitting on the bed. “Nobody asked you to do anything! Why do you always have to make things about yourself?”

Silence. A gust of wind came from the window, chilling Connie to the bones. She squeezed her left hand until it hurt. The scissors were still there. She glanced at her right arm; smooth and clean of any mark. Connie was right handed, but she could make an exception.

The thought alone shook her to her core, making her open her palm. The scissors felt with a clink-clank. She brought the phone closer to her face.

“Please,” Connie muffled a choke with her free hand, “please don’t go. Can you just talk to me?”

More silence, and there was a moment in which Connie knew ‘this is it, my best friend hates me forever’. But then there was a sliding noise, and the rumble of dirt being removed. There was also a distant boom; a storm was about to drop.

“I stopped the car,” said Steven. “I’m here for you, if you want.”

Great. It’s not like that’ll deepen Connie’s guilt.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated. Dark walls were closing around her, and the only source of light was her phone and the person on the other side. Obstinate tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Please don’t say that. I know… you know that’s not true,” Steven measured each word as he spoke. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, “I’m just being a big baby, that’s all.” No answer. He’s not gonna make it easy for her, is he? “I’m mad. Really mad.”

“Mad at me?”

Connie grumbled as an answer. She heard Steven’s struggle to swallow.

“Right. Not about me.”

“Exactly,” she said, although it was a half truth.

“I’m mad at myself,” she proceeded. “I’m mad because I fail at everything I do.” Connie took several breaths. Here comes the bomb: “I flunked at my practice college entrance test.”

More silence.

“Go on,”

“Aren’t you gonna say its stupid?” she asked cautiously. She’d expected a scoff, a snicker. Maybe even some laughter.

“I’m listening,” Steven insisted.

Connie tried to put some verbal sense in the ball yarn that was her mind.

“I really flunked it, you know,” she said, waiting —hoping— for a reprimand. “Even the stuff that I’ve studied and re-studied.”

“But it was just a practice test. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means everything, Steven,” she cried. “If I’d taken it today, I would have gotten a garbage grade.”

Connie cleaned the tears away with the back of her hand. The gust coming from the window was making her shiver. Her wet hair and the soaked sheets were not helping either.

“It like everything I had done, all the hard work I put into it was for nothing,” she said. “Everything feels so pointless.”

“I don’t think it was,” said Steven, carefully. “Even if you failed, you still practiced for the real one. Don’t give up. Going to college was your dream.”

“Was it? I don’t really know.” Connie bit her lip. “No, that’s a lie. I do want to go to college. I just wonder if it’s worth it. I mean, what’s the point of trying so hard if I fail anyway? Do you have any idea how many nights I lost for this? O-or how many times I had to put my friends on hold because I was busy studying?”

She stopped. She felt as if her breath was stolen from her.

“Of course you do,” she sighed. “And it was all for nothing. I failed at this as I fail at everything else.”

“What is ‘everything else’?”

Her blood was freezing cold, as was her answer. “You know.”

There it was again; the roar of thunder, followed by the sound of a million drops falling down. It was starting to rain somewhere.

“Connie,” said Steven, on the verge of shattering. “Have you been thinking about Homeworld?”

Connie clenched her free hand, her teeth, and everything else that required physical exertion.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be.”

“I know I have no right to feel bad about it. You are the one who suffered the most from it-”

She was cut by her own throat shutting down, and for a moment only tiny hiccups came out. There was a blinding, white rage inside her. It commanded her to grab her sword and slash, lunge and cut all her problems away. But she didn’t. She stood still and cried.

“But I was there too. I saw what White did to you and I couldn’t do anything.” Connie gasped for air. “I trained so hard for nothing. When you needed me I… I failed you.” She stopped to gasp and clean her tears. “H-how can I know I won’t be a mess in everything else I do, that I won’t flunk on my first year of college? Studying was the only thing I was good at and… and I’m not even good at it anymore and just…”

She stopped to let the tears roll freely. It was too much; too much weight, too many tears. Everything was in the air now. All her failures, all her fears, like an enveloping toxic cloud around her; it’d always been there, but now someone else could see it. In the middle of her wailing, she caught Steven’s concerned voice.

“Connie, can you hear me?”

It could be easy to hang up now, forget this ever happened, and call back when she was strong and put together. ‘Hey Steven, sorry about that, everything is better now’. But Connie couldn’t do that —not to him. She mumbled a reply.

“Alright. I want you to breathe with me, OK? Can you do that?”

Well, that’s easy for him to ask. He’s not the one hyperventilating. And to think many times she’d said the same, when Steven was going through a panic attack. How the turntables indeed.

She knew the instructions to the letter, but she coordinated them to Steven’s voice. Four seconds inspiration. Hold it for seven seconds. Eight seconds exhalation. They repeated it until every corner of Connie’s mind was occupied with this routine.

“Feeling better?” Steven asked.

Connie noticed she wasn’t crying anymore and with one last sniff she said: “A bit.”

“Good. Now I want you to listen,” said Steven. “First, just because I was the one who was attacked doesn’t mean I got the monopoly on trauma.” He stopped to see if his joke caused any effect. ”What I mean to say is, that day was… it was a literal hell for all of us. Maybe more to me than to the gems, but it was so for you too because, like you said, you were there with me.”

“Which brings me to the second point: nothing of what happened in Homeworld, or that happened to me, to us, was your fault,” Steven said, firmly and fluently, like a practiced speech. “And there was nothing you could have done to prevent it. I know you are mad because you couldn’t take a swing at White’s giant nose…”

Connie laughed. She imagined Steven raising a triumphant fist into the air.

“But you did help me. You carried me to… to me! If I’m alive now, it’s because of you. And I should…” Steven stopped. Connie could see him, hand on his mouth, trying to hold the tears back and be the rock she needed. She knew that feeling too well. “I should’ve told before how much you did to me. You saved my life back then, a-and then you saved me again, months ago, when I got corrupted.”

Connie gasped. Steven never brought that topic unprompted, and he never called it for what it was. It was always ‘the incident’.

“You were there for me since day one,” Steven laughed dryly. “Actually, I should be the one apologizing. You had to go through all of that because of me.”

“I wanted to do it,” Connie retorted. “I wanted to go through all of that with you.”

“That doesn’t make it right. It wasn’t fair.”

Connie huffed. They were scratching the surface of a deeper conversation. Because Connie was mad for wanting to go to Homeworld so bad, and for all the times her life was in danger before that. And she was mad at her parents —what were they thinking? They shouldn’t have let Connie run around with a sword, fighting a war that wasn’t her own; they should have locked her up until she was eighteen. Damn, she was mad at the whole Universe for needing to be saved. They were kids! Stupid kids who didn’t knew better than to take such a task over their shoulders.

And deep down, in a corner she dared not to look, she was mad at Steven. Because from the first day they meet, he chose her. To be his friend, his partner-in-crime, his… And in an even deeper place, Connie was mad at herself. Because she had chosen Steven too, and if it came to it, she would do it all again. Back then, in the middle of the chaos, with the fear of death and the threat of the destruction of the Earth as her everyday bread and butter, life made sense.

But now the war was over, and the books Connie studied so much felt as unreal as any fantasy novel. How do you go back to being normal after having a destiny?

Connie let her head fall back and softly touch the wall. She was far too tired to shine light on those darks corners. She just wanted to rest. She was half-way napping when Steven’s voice brought her back.

“Connie? Connie, are you there? Please talk to me.”

Connie slapped herself awake. “I’m here Steven. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she said, as convinced as anything. “How about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“But I do.”

“Well I… I worry about you!” Steven protested. “So I guess we are in a loop here.”

That comment wasn’t particularly funny, but Connie started to laugh; a short, weak laugh that grew up to be a roar. On the other side, Steven laughed too.

“Oh man. This sure feels familiar doesn’t it?” said Steven, and eased a bit on the laughter. “I guess you are better at making me feel better than I am doing it for you.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself so short. I do feel better. A little,” she confessed. “I’m sorry you had to deal with me being dumb. I don’t know what came over me.”

Steven was quiet for a while. When he spoke again, it was with the clearness of a professor giving class.

“Connie, do you remember one of the first things Dr. A. told me when I started therapy?

“Life sucks?” She heard Steven breathing raggedly, trying not to laugh.

“That is the first thing,” he said in a short breath, “but I mean the second first thing.”

Connie scratched her head. “The thing about the pond?”

“The frozen lake,” he corrected. “She said that, for people with depression —not saying you have it— or have gone through some trauma —again, not pointing fingers—, anxiety is like a frozen lake. Every day you bring new problems to the lake; little, everyday stuff that’s not too heavy. Then some days you bring heavier stuff, and the ice starts to crack, but you don’t notice because you hide the heavy stuff under the lighter stuff. Finally one day, you bring a new little problem and you put it on top of the pile. You know what happens next?”

“The ice breaks?”

“It breaks,” said Steven, like a satisfied lecturer. “It breaks and you fall in the frozen water, with all of that heavy shit you have been hiding.”

Connie’s hand grabbed the front of her bathrobe. She was still not used to hearing Steven Cutie Pie DeMayo Universe curse —even if she was the one who taught him the coolest words (besides Amethyst, of course).

“I remember the story now,” Connie scratched her head, feeling the hard knots of her hair. “I always thought it was a bit complex as a metaphor.”

“My point is-“

“Why not use a house of cards? Every anxious thought is a new card, and as you pile them up, the house loses stability. Finally, one day, it just falls under its own weight,” Connie explained with renewed vigor. “See? It paints a much clearer picture.”

“The point, Miss Wiseguy,” grunted Steven, and Connie could see him folding his arms. “Is that if you don’t want the ice to break-“

“Or the house of cards to fall.”

“Or the house of cards to fall,” he conceded, “you have to deal with that heavy stuff before you are overwhelmed. You don’t need to do that now,” he added, predicting her complain. “But at some point, you will need to talk to someone. Your parents or your friends… Or I can give you Dr. A.’s number. She knows everything we went through.”

“That ought to save me some time,” she said. “Maybe she’ll give me a discount card of ‘Friends of Steven Universe’.”

“See? Now you are being positive,” Steven laughed.

Connie smiled sadly. “What about you?”

“I’ll always be here for you. By phone, video chat, or to visit you… If you want me to,” he whispered that last part.

“Only if you promise to not turn into a Kaiju when we start exposing my inner demons.”

“Ha ha,” he said robotically. “I’ll assume by your sarcasm that you are the same old Berry now.”

Connie mulled about it for a few seconds. The cloud of anxiety was slowly banishing, and she no longer felt the claustrophobic walls closing around her.

“Yes, I’m good now. Thanks to yo-aaah” a loud, long yawn took over her. “Sorry. Guess I’m more worn out than I thought.”

“Yeah, I can tell… Have you really not been sleeping at all?”

“Unless you count passing out of tiredness as sleeping,” she joked.

“Ah,” said Steven. “Have you been, well… you know?”

Connie didn’t answer. She knew what he meant, but she’d no voice to say it.

“Connie, have you been hurting yourself?”

“This conversation is hurting me.”

“Connie.”

The phone vibrated and got hot to the touch, before cooling down real fast. Connie’s head vibrated too, like a snow globe being shaken. Steven’s control over electric devices had been growing.

She lifted her arm to look at the cuts; they still stung, although she hasn’t been paying attention to it. All the slashes were dry and had a dull color.

Fuck it, why not?

“Just a few cuts,” she said flatly, “with my mom’s scissors.”

There was silence for a while, but Steven’s was still there; his breath was ragged and odd. Has he turned pink? Did Connie throw him into a panic attack?

Finally, he spoke: “Connie, I need you to do me a favor.”

Oh boy, that doesn’t sound good at all. “What is it?”

“Throw those scissors away.”

Connie pursed her lips. “Steven, I can’t do that. My mom would be mad,” she said, although it was a poor excuse. If Connie cared about her mother’s feelings, she wouldn’t have stolen the scissors in the first place.

“I know. I don’t pretend to tell you what to do,” he said, measuring his words like a baker measures flour, “but it’s something that helped me a lot. I mean, when I was in a bad place, I would go into these blank moments when I wasn’t thinking at all.” Connie nodded. He was talking about the limbo. “When I started therapy, I was told to try to be more conscious of myself. More present. So when I felt I was, you know, getting in the mood,” Steven groaned at his own choice of words, “I would take a step back and do something different. We can’t always control our situation or our mood or even our actions, but we can make small changes to have some power over ourselves.”

The way Steven spoke in plural said that he wasn’t doing vain motivational talk; he was talking from a place he’d been in… and maybe still was. Connie remembered sitting on Steven’s bed, trying to cheer him up to eat or step outside and get some fresh air. She also remembered coming home, locking herself in the bathroom and taking a long shower while she cried.

Connie held onto that thought and sat on the bed. She picked the scissors with her free hand and put that memory in them. She also put the memories of White Diamond, the monsters’ attack on Beach City, the arguments with her mother. All her anger, her insecurities, her fear of not knowing who she was— she grabbed all of it and put it into a ball, one she was carrying in her throwing hand. She extended her arm all the way behind her back. And when the wind blew the curtains opens, she propelled her arm forward like a whip.

The scissors —and metaphorical ball— broke free of her hand, made a straight line and finally flew out of the window; out of sight.

Connie stood still, catching her breath. The first thing she noticed was that her chest, while still swelling with anger, felt notably lighter. The second thing was Steven’s voice calling her from the phone. The final thing she noticed made her scream:

“Holy shit!”

“What? What happened?” she heard Steven calling to her.

“I threw the scissors out of the window!”

“…WHAT?”

Connie dashed towards the window, holding her bathtub with her free hand, and stuck her head outside.

“Is everyone ok?”

“Yeah… yeah I think so,” said Connie with a relieved breath. “The street is desert at this time. Anyway, I think I can see the scissors. They felt right by the trash can, so maybe I accidentally stabbed a rat?”

Steven was hyperventilating, but he took a break from it to scoff at her. “Now is no time for jokes, missy! Oh man… you could have killed someone! Why did you do that?”

“Because you told me to, you dumb-dumb!”

“I didn’t tell you to throw a sharp object out of the window, you dumb-dumb!”

Connie shook her head. “Forget it, I don’t want to fight.” She leaned against the wall and let gravity slid her to the floor.

“Me neither,” said Steven. The sound of rain was quieter now. “At least did that helped?”

“Yes. Almost killing innocent bystanders always cheers me up.”

“That’s my girl,” Steven laughed and so did Connie, albeit weaker.

Still, she felt better. Her body was recharging energy quickly and her mind was emerging from whatever black hole it had been hiding in.

“I think I can go on with my day now,” she said and she meant it.

“Are you sure?” Steven asked. Connie reaffirmed her decision. “Well, that’s awesome. So… would it be cool if I drop by and check on you?”

Connie’s heart started to race up again as the anxiety came back. Check on you. Like she was sick and she needed to be taken care of.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” she said, firmly. “But later. Definitely later. I’ll call you.”

“But I… OK. Alright, w-we’ll talk later then.”

Steven sounded really bummed out, but Connie could pay it no mind now, lest she wanted to feel down the whole again. “Thanks for everything. And I’m sorry I made you stop in the middle of a storm,” she said.

“Oh it’s not so bad. Kinda weird though,” said Steven. “You know, usually you hide from the rain, lock yourself inside and look at it from the window of your house. But I’m under it right now. The sky is falling around me but I’m as dry as clean clothes. And, I don’t know, it’s beautiful. It makes you appreciate everything there is, even stuff that’s supposed to be ugly. Does it make sense?”

The words struck something deep inside Connie, but whatever meaning Steven was trying to transmit was ignored. She was not in the mood for lessons right now.

“I know what you mean,” she swiftly said. “So I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright then. Please be safe. And call me.”

“I will.”

“Ok… I love you.”

Connie blushed. “Goodbye.” She cut the call. She should have said something else, something more. She didn’t know why she had been in such a rush to hang up.

She just knew saying ‘I love you’ was easier when they weren’t dating.

With one long, invigorating breath, Connie stood up. She stretched her arms over her head until her bones cracked, then she bended and touched her finger toes until her legs were burning.

With the sudden rush of adrenaline, thinking became easier. The rage was gone and her chest didn’t feel as heavy. Connie has left the limbo, at least for now.

She looked for her phone. Her last study break was one hour ago. Most of that time had been spent talking to Steven. So much time —hers and his— wasted in vain…

Alright Connie, compartmentalize. There’s a lot to do. What comes first? She asked herself. Well, her red, stinging arm would be a good starting point. She headed for her bedroom’s bathroom and closed the door shut.

The bathroom was still mildly warm from the shower she took. The first aid kit was where she left it; resting over the sink, opened. It’s where Connie usually hid the scissors. She hung the bathrobe on a perch and checked the cuts on the mirror. They ran deeper than Connie’s usual handiwork, so she applied the process she used for her training injuries. Soap and water to wash the wounds. Dry well, apply antiseptic to prevent infection and then bandage the whole thing, from the elbow to the wrist. She’ll have to change the bandages after tomorrow at least.

Some petroleum jelly could help the wound heal faster and prevent scarring, and Connie’s mom had some in her first aid kit but she discarded that thought. Explaining to her mom how she got these wounds was out of question.

Connie was about to put the kit away when an idea hit her. She brought the bandages out and applied them over her right arm —her clean, unharmed right arm. There; now if anyone, be it her mom or her friends asked, she could appeal to a training accident. And if her mom wants to check the wound herself, Connie will show her the right arm. Her mom will comment on how well the injury had healed, or she’ll simply believe Connie was overreacting to a minor rash. In any case, she’ll be none of the wiser.

Connie looked at herself in the mirror —naked, except for the bandaged arms. Her reflection smiled sadly. You think you are so cunning, don’t you?

With that done, she left the kit over the sink and tiptoed into her cold room. She went to the wardrobe and chose a long sleeved shirt, some jogging pants, and a sweater.

Next thing were the sheets. They were soaked; perfect to catch pneumonia. Connie started to take them off. She stopped and instead she left her room —with the same feeling as Robinson Crusoe leaving his island—, and headed for the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of juice and drank it like an old man in the desert. She poured another glass and headed back upstairs.

Once in her bedroom, she took off the sheets, rolled them all into a ball and poured the orange juice over the sheets, with extra care as to not wet the mattress. The textile absorbed the juice like a sponge. Finally, she went back downstairs, threw the sheets into the dishwasher and set it on. In the unlikely event her mom questioned Connie about her dropping a glass of juice on the bed; Connie only had to point at the orange colored stains.

They’ll disappear after a few washes, anyway. Ironically, the marks on Connie’s arm might last longer. She entertained the idea of putting her shirt to wash, but she scratched it off. Being a doctor’s daughter, she knew blood stains were a pain to get rid of.

Satisfied with what she had accomplished, Connie’s heart gave a little thud as she approached the door. She didn’t feel like going for a walk, but she’d to recover the, sort of speak, crime’s weapon. She stepped outside and walked aimlessly around the sidewalk for a minute, looking for the scissors. She found them on the floor right next to the trash can. Five inches left and they would have landed on top of the trash. It really makes your mind think.

Or someone else’s mind. Not Connie’s. She didn’t have time to metaphors.

She knelt to pick the scissors. And then she saw them; or rather, they saw her. On the other side of the street, a young couple crossed sights with her. They keep their glance on her for less than five seconds before walking away, laughing. It was enough to throw Connie down a hole. Eyes seemed to materialize out of thin air, staring faces, judgmental glances; all of them pointing at Connie. All of them knew what she’d done. She’d been seen.

Connie dashed inside the house and slammed the door behind her. She felt to the ground, short of breath. That couple must be on their way now, totally oblivious of the effect they caused on Connie, and she can’t blame them; she couldn’t predicted that either. Her social anxiety had been tame for so long, Connie thought it was a thing of the past. That’s another thing to scratch out of her accomplishments list.

Nevertheless Connie had the scissors in her shaking hands, and all she wanted was to put them away.

She stood up and moved around the house exhausted. She picked a pair of clean sheets and went back to her room. She locked the door, shut down the windows and closed the curtains. She breathed out loudly. Now she was unseen and nobody could judge her.

She set the clean sheets on the bed. A strong scent of lavender hit her. Finally, she went to the bathroom; put the scissors inside the first aid kit, under everything else, and put the kit on the back of the cabinet, until next time.

Next time… now that was an upsetting thought.

With everything else done, she just had to get rid of the shirt. She had second thoughts about washing it, since throwing it away would be complicated. Feeling a headache incoming, Connie opened her closet and threw the bloody rag inside. It wasn’t like her to postpone things, but… who was she kidding? This is standard Connie’s stress dealing procedure.

Connie looked at everything she’d done, and felt at peace for the first time that day. Then her eyes felt onto her standing mirror.

Oh no, this won’t do, she thought, meaning her hair. More specifically, the crow nest that had taken over her head and that she usually called hair.

She grabbed her blue hairbrush. Her hair was so entangled the regular ministrations won’t do, so she attacked it with brutal brushing motions. In the meantime, her mind kept producing images. Steven under the heavy rain, checking the soaked engine that broke down when he stopped to talk to her. The disappointed glance of her mom when she finds out all the scheming Connie went through to hide the truth. Her own hands shaking with anxiety as she takes the real test and she realizes she doesn’t know any answers.

She set the brush down. There. Now the image in the mirror was presentable —although some days, Connie wasn’t sure if it was really hers.

“I’m alright,” she said, with a voice that felt alien even to her. “I’ll be fine. I’m a warrior,” she added, more convinced with each word.

She was a warrior. Maybe she’d lost her center, but she could find it. She could be strong again. Once she gets a grip of herself and gets into college, everything will be alright.

Right? Right.

With this new resolution, Connie walked to her worktable. Her failed test was still there. Next to it was the half-done new test she had been working on when the static became too much.

Now, she could keep working and pretend all of this never happened. That this was just a very long study break, that everything she did was normal and healthy. It’s what she was expected to do, right?

Once again she thought of Steven, taking time from his trip to sit down under a deluge to talk to her. Breathe with her, as if they were one.

Connie’s hand reached towards the test… And then went left, grabbed the nearest book and dropped it over the papers.

This can wait… she thought, uncertain.

“This can wait,” she verbalized defiantly to the World.

With that problem done for, she had a free afternoon. She tapped her chin —she hasn’t had this free time in a while.

She picked her phone and flipped through the library. There was this reboot of ‘Crying Breakfast Friends’ that Steven had been bugging her to watch, but she’d been rain checked until she could pass the test. Maybe it’s time to keep the study waiting. She shuddered at that inch of her rebellious younger self taking over.

She picked her earphones and lay comfortable on her fresh, lavender-scented sheets. Five minutes into the first episode and she was cackling and crying with a cartoon about animated fruits while her papers —her physical future— waited on the table. And they’ll keep waiting until tomorrow.

Connie didn’t know if this was a step forward or backwards. But a step’s a step nonetheless; and she was still moving.

#connie maheswaran #Steven quartz universe #connverse #self-harm #tw: blood #ptsd mention #dissociation

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passable-talent · 4 years

Text

Power Hungry [3]

“I’m writing a vampire short story but in the most homoerotic way possible “ -🦌 Roe 2k20

warnings: lots n lots of blood, a little bit of self destructive behavior in the beginning, death of an unnamed character, angst out the ass, please and thx

| part 1 | part 2 | part 3 |

Lucas took a key and slipped out the door, a grey jacket wrapped around his torso, but its fabric interior long ago streaked white with bleach. He could smell it, could feel in the back of his nose that he was inhaling it, too, but it didn’t stop him.

His knife was cold where it pressed against his thigh, so he hurried quicker into the woods, remembering exactly where Tobias lived. The mansion’s windows were alight, even so late at night, so he knocked at the door, shielding his hands from the cold within his pockets.

The door opened, to one of Tobias’ sisters. She let him in without a word, and he stepped past her. The hall was warm, the light hanging in its middle sending clean white light onto the semi-reflective floor.

“Hi, it’s Lucas,” he said awkwardly to the sister.

“I know,” she said, giving him a quick smile in an effort to be friendly. “I’m Ella.” She pressed a blue button on the wall, which reminded Lucas of a radio from the 1950’s. Not long afterward, Tobias rounded a corner, and took a deep, shuddering breath before taking a few steps closer to Tobias. Ella left, quickly.

“Are you here to kill me?” Tobias asked, a deep sadness to his voice. Lucas’ heart cracked at the words.

“No,” he said, lifting one hand. “I’m not- no.” Tobias nodded, lowering his gaze to the floor.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Tobias said, and Lucas shook his head quickly.

“You were right not to,” he said, “I wouldn’t have taken it well.” Lucas took a few steps closer, a curious gaze flitting over Tobias again. “Can I ask you something?” Tobias quirked a smile- and Lucas felt his chest loosen up at the sight of it.

“Anything,” He said, and Lucas felt daring enough to approach him, slip his arms around Tobias’ neck.

“You don’t have a bite,” he said quietly, like if they spoke too loud, the whole room would shatter around them. “So how are you…?” Tobias lifted his hands to Lucas’ wrists, running his thumbs over the back of Lucas’ hands.

“I’m Born,” he said, “My parents were.” Lucas nodded, and even with feather touches over the pulse point of Tobias’ neck, Lucas could tell there was no heartbeat under it.

“Does that mean you don’t drink- I mean-”

“No, I do,” Tobias said, lifting his chin, and Lucas caught the way his Adam's apple moved, the ghosting of his breath onto Lucas’ arms. “I just- I know how to handle it. I didn’t want to feed from you.”

“I kissed you,” Lucas said, casting his eyes down. “You didn’t bite me then, either.”

“No,” Tobias said, and he bit his lip, making Lucas notice the sharp, white fang. “I wouldn’t.” Lucas brought his gaze up to Tobias’, getting lost again in those deep blue eyes, now clearly too dark to be human. There was something special about them- something special about all of Tobias.

“Promise?”

That kiss wasn’t their last. The night wasn’t their last- Lucas spent his days sleeping so that he could leave at night, hoping that Tony wouldn’t catch on, hoping that his high collars would hide the marks. Tobias was more than proving himself trustworthy; giving Lucas marks all over his neck and shoulders, and never so much as grazing his teeth.

He blamed Anthony’s glares into his back on paranoia. There was no way Tony knew, so of course he was just being overly worried when he thought he caught Tony staring. He blamed Ben’s downcast eyes on guilt; guilt that he had found someone else was what was making him see sadness in Ben’s face. There was no way Ben could know, no way. And he shouldn’t even feel guilty! Ben was special, of course he was… but Ben had never made a move, either. Lucas couldn’t be blamed for moving on.

Right?

Lucas woke up every day with a smile, because he knew how he would spend the night. He was happier than he’d been in a long time, probably since even before the world had ended. (Senior year of college wasn’t that fantastic, in all honesty.) But Tobias brightened him up, made him smile again, gave him more playfulness, more energy. He was being more helpful, more affectionate toward his friends, he hadn’t fought with Tony in weeks.

It was freaking wonderful- Lucas was feeling alive, Tony was enjoying the peace, Ben was just happy to see Lucas smiling again. They really didn’t want to ruin it, to ruin the fun, but. But.

“Lucas, you’re hiding your neck,” Anthony said, catching him when he emerged from his room, sometime in the midafternoon.

“Nope,” Lucas said nonchalantly, the way he’d practiced the response to such an accusation. “It’s December. I’m just cold.”

“Lucas,” Anthony growled, a warning in his tone.

“Tony, drop it,” Lucas said, plopping down on the couch to swirl his dagger between his fingers, “I know you’re worried about me, and all, but I’m fine.”

“Would you even tell me if he bit you?” Anthony asked, his voice sharp, accusatory. Lucas looked up in shock, and though he felt anger well up in his gut, he didn’t act on it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered, controlling his breathing, letting the words come out gently.

“Lucas,” Anthony groaned, “You’ve been sneaking out. You really thought we wouldn’t notice you’ve been seeing him? What was his name- Tobias?” Lucas knew when to cut his losses- he certainly wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of this one. Not now.

“He won’t bite me,” Lucas said, looking to the floor, like a scolded child. “I know he won’t.” For a moment, Anthony didn’t respond, which gave Lucas the pause he nodded. He stood up, calling up the stairs to Ben.

“I’ve got an idea for you guys,” Lucas said, once Ben had joined them in the living room. “Come meet him. You liked him enough when you first met- you’ll see what I see. He’s a good guy, really. We can trust him.”

It took a bit of convincing, but they agreed. Tony only agreed with the promise that if the night went sour in any way, Tony could kill Tobias. Lucas insisted that there was no way it would come to that.

Tobias was the most gracious host- he let them have free reign, going so far as to let Tony search his things in hopes of finding plans for nefarious plots. No surprise, he found nothing.

Lucas had given Tobias little bits of advice, for winning over his friends- be himself, of course, but he let Tobias know Tony and Ben’s weak spots. Tony in particular almost burst into tears when Tobias handed him a little nutella travel pack. He tore through the little cracker-cookie-sticks, and soon enough was scooping out the rest of the nutella with his fingers.

“See? He’s cool,” Lucas said, leaning against the wall beside the chair Tobias was lounging in. Ben had made himself comfortable on a window bench, and Tony was just finishing the last fingerful of nutella on the couch before he fixed Lucas with a glare.

“He’s okay for now,” he said, not looking as threatening as he likely meant to. Lucas rolled his eyes and grabbed a pillow from behind Tobias, launching it at Tony, whacking him in the face.

“Lighten up,” he scolded, a smirk on his face. Tony, not one to back down from a challenge, set the empty package aside, and took hold of the pillow with a nefarious smile. They’d engaged in pillow wars since they were teenagers, with all the brutality one would expect.

“No, don’t,” Ben warned, knowing where this was headed, but it was too late. Tony hurled the pillow, and Lucas just stepped from its path. In his place, the pillow impacted a standing lamp, and it blinked off when it hit the floor.

“Oh my god,” Tony said, his politeness extending even to a vampire, “I’m so sorry.” Tobias feigned disappointment, but he reached out to grab one of the throw pillows beside him.

“That was really expensive,” he said, shaking his head. “I hope you know you’re going to pay for it!” He flung the royal blue pillow at Tony, who couldn’t help but laugh, and pitched it back before diving behind the couch, taking refuge from the return fire. Ben quickly joined him when Lucas targeted him, and soon enough, the once-calm lounge had become a war zone. Lucas dove with all the grace that his body could manage, exposing his torso to return fire but landing a blow to Ben’s face. Tobias dragged him back into the safety of their fort -an armchair- and they waited to collect ammunition before trying again.

There was sudden silence from Lucas and Tobias- which, despite the fun atmosphere, worried Tony immensely. He still held a pillow in his hand as he approached the armchair cautiously, ready to either restart the pillow war or suffocate Tobias where he sat.

His worry was for nothing, as Lucas launched up from behind the chair and latched onto his torso with his legs, rapid-fire smacking him with the pillow until the both of them crashed to the floor.

“What the hell?” Tony laughed, and they untangled, but Lucas kept him pinned to the floor with a knee on his chest.

“Victory,” Lucas taunted, only for Ben to bowl him over and into the floor.

“Hey!” Tobias shouted with a bright smile, trying to come to Lucas’ aid, but Tony caught him in a loose but inescapable choke hold before he could get there. Ben and Tony had clearly won the battle, and so Lucas relaxed his muscles into the floor, and Tobias let out a sigh, reaching up to pat Tony’s hair.

“Okay, we’re done,” Tobias admitted, “Who wants a beer?” Lucas’ eyes brightened as he sat up next to Ben.

“You have beer?” he asked, mouth salivating at the thought. “I haven’t had beer since sophomore year!” Tony released Tobias, but gave Lucas a look.

“You were twenty in sophomore year, you weren’t old enough to drink,” Tony told him.

“Yeah,” Ben scoffed, “And you were nineteen, but who bought it for us?”

Tobias returned with four beers, handing them out. The four of them were sitting in a circle, and Tony had to open all four bottles, as he was the only one that knew how to slam it onto a table’s edge. Tobias hadn’t thought to bring a bottle opener.

“Sitting here like this,” Ben said with a smirk, “It feels like we’re gonna play spin the bottle.”

“Hey, none of you are allowed to kiss me,” Tony said, lifting the bottle to his lips. It got a laugh from the other three. Lucas couldn’t help but let his shoulders lean against Tobias’, and with a quick glance to his friends, it didn’t seem like they minded.

“Like we’d want to,” Ben sneered, which earned him Tony’s hand tousling through his black hair.

“Seriously, though, guys,” Tobias said, gesturing with his beer, “I just want to thank you for being so cool.” Lucas smiled- Tobias was being so sweet. He noticed as Ella and the other sister, Anna, entered the room behind Ben and Tony, but thought nothing of it. “Like, I haven’t really had friends in a long time.”

“Eh, you’re cool enough,” Ben admitted, taking a swig of his beer.

“Thanks,” Tobias said with a laugh, and Lucas looked up at the way his fangs glinted against the white light. “But really. I like you guys a lot- and I’m glad you’re okay with me.” Tobias turned a fond smile to Lucas. “With us.”

A contented, comfortable silence spread over the four of them. Lucas hadn’t felt this safe in seven months.

Too bad it was an illusion.

He couldn’t even react between the moment that Tobias’ smile fell and the moment that his teeth had sunk deep into Lucas’ neck. He could only gasp, and turn fearful eyes to his friends, who both tried to scramble forward and pull Tobias off of him, only to be immediately disarmed and knocked out by Ella and Anna.

It felt like all of the warmth and strength was leaving Lucas’ body, and all he could do was stare at his friends, passed out on the floor, preserved in their desperate attempt to help him. All he could do was think about how stupid he had been, how naive, how moronic. They’d been right about Tobias all along- Tobias had used him and manipulated him, and now was killing him. His fingers shook and body shivered by the time Tobias pulled his fangs from his neck, but Lucas couldn’t even get a good look at his face before he collapsed, cracking his skull onto the floor.

~~~

Lucas was awake before his eyes were open. He tried to roll over, but found his muscles screaming in protest, and he let out a groan.

“Good morning, love,” said Tobias from nearby, and Lucas’ mind finally caught up to where he was, what had happened. He didn’t move. Maybe Tobias would think he was still asleep.

“Allow me to explain,” Tobias said, voice almost sad. Lucas didn’t believe the tone, not for a second.

“I’m not a bastard, okay?” Tobias insisted, confusing Lucas quickly. What did he mean? “Just because my parents abandoned me to look after my two baby sisters doesn’t mean I don’t have a family. I’m not a Bastard. I’m not. I’ve got-” Tobias’ voice cracked, and he sounded close to tears. “I’m not. I have a family. I have my sisters- and you! Lucas, I love you so much, you’re my family. And now, you can stay here all the time, you can be safe, and we’ll have Ben and Anthony, too. You want that, right? I can keep them safe, and we can be a family.”

It took all Lucas had in him not to respond.

“I know you’re awake, love,” Tobias said, and Lucas snapped his eyes open, if only to glare.

“You told me you’d never bite me,” Lucas growled, and Tobias looked away, a hint of guilt in his eyes.

“I never really said that…” he said, trailing away as though he didn’t believe himself.

“Fuck you,” Lucas growled, and Tobias shook his head, turning his face away.

“We’ve got somewhere to be, love,” Tobias said, and though Lucas was too faint to hold himself up, Tobias helped him. On shaking feet he tottered into the hallway, his arm pulled over Tobias’ shoulder. He caught a glance of himself in a wall mirror- he looked so tired, so pale, so weak.

Tobias took him into a lounge, its floors just as reflective, but now black, empty, save for the reflections on the tile. Tobias gently sat him into a couch, where he wanted to move, but found his limbs incapable of moving on their own.

He looked up to the sound of footsteps, and watched as Ella and Anna led Tony and Ben into the room. Lucas was immediately filled with the most unfathomable grief; his throat closing up. He could see that they were unbitten, but that didn’t matter. They were in danger, no matter what. And it was all Lucas’ fault.

“Just let them go,” Lucas said in a whimper, though it evolved into a sob. “Just let them go.”

Tobias seemed unaffected by his pleading, and lifted a vial of dark liquid. Lucas didn’t have to guess what it was, he knew.

“No,” he groaned, and Tobias shook his head.

“It’s alright, no one’s drinking this,” Tobias said, taking a seat next to Lucas. He lifted a hand and pushed back Lucas’ hair, but then brought his hand over Lucas’ nose and mouth, completely cutting off his air.

He grabbed onto Tobias’ wrist, but was too weak to force it away. His lungs began to spasm as they tried to take in air against Tobias’ hand, and Lucas looked up in fear at Tobias. His nose was suddenly freed, and he took in a deep inhale- but Tobias had put the vial of blood under his nose.

The reaction was immediate.

Lucas jerked forward, as though chasing the smell, and Tobias pulled it from his reach. Lucas’ mouth hung open, and he felt for the first time the fangs that pulled against the soft skin of the inside of his lips. He raised a shaking hand to his mouth, and pressed his thumb and first finger against the two upper fangs, horror flooding his system. He’d been bitten; and turned. He’d been made into the monster that he’d promised Ben and Tony that Tobias wasn’t. He’d been made into the monster that killed his parents.

Worse, though, was the intoxication of the smell. Its aroma was one he’d never experienced, so heavenly, it starved him further than he was. He made him long, made him crave. And the worst of all was that, somehow, he knew that it was Ben’s blood. Somehow, he just knew.

And he hated that. He looked to his side at Tony and Ben, who looked so full of sorrow, of sadness, much more than fear. He wished he could say anything, any apologies, any pleas or words of comfort, but nothing would leave his throat. He felt nothing but hunger.

“We’re a family,” Tobias said, setting the vial down onto an end table. “I care about you, Lucas. So you get to choose which one you feed from.” Lucas’ eyes widened, and he looked to Tobias, tears welling in his eyes.

“No,” he wept, anguish tearing at his soul.

“You don’t have much time before you starve, my love,” Tobias warned him, and Lucas could feel the truth of his words, could feel them in his lightheadedness, in his shaking limbs and cold fingers.

Lucas would like to be the man that could say he’d choose death over harming his friends. He had always wanted to be the noble hero, and had dreams of dying a noble death.

But he wasn’t a hero. He was a selfish, scared boy who didn’t want to die. So he turned his eyes to his friends, and forced himself to make a hard decision.

“Ben,” he said, his throat hollow, sorrow echoing in his tone. “I don’t- I don’t want to make Tony become the monster that killed his father.” Lucas tried to ignore it as Tony let out a brief wail, and it was almost made easier by the look on Ben’s face. He almost looked as though he understood.

Anna let go of Ben, who immediately ran to Lucas, wrapping him in the tightest hug he’d had in years. He tried to hug back, burying his face into Ben’s shoulder, and if he had a heartbeat, it would’ve been pounding against Ben’s chest.

“It’s okay,” Ben whispered to him, and Lucas clutched against him harder, salty tears now breaking from his eyes and running down his face. He had a thousand regrets, the regrets of a dying man, and though he wasn’t dying, and he knew he had time, he still wished to say everything he could, in that one instant.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas whimpered, his words muffled by Ben’s shirt. “I love you.” Ben hugged him harder, keeping his torso upright, even as Lucas swayed.

“It’s okay,” Ben promised him, turning his head to kiss his temple. “It’s okay, I love you.”

The smell became too much, and Lucas clamped his jaw down onto Ben’s neck.

The way that his own bite had felt, this was so different- the warmth he’d lost to Tobias, he was gaining from Ben. It was euphoric, and he couldn’t stop, gaining his strength, holding Ben harder against him as Ben’s grip began to slip. He finally let go, turning his face to the ceiling with a shuddering breath, amazed by the feeling of it.

The pleasure was short lived. Ben passed out in his arms, and Lucas guided his fall to the floor.

Had he drank too much? Was Ben drained? No, he couldn’t be, Lucas couldn’t have killed him.

“Ben?” he said, holding Ben’s head up in his lap, fear more than he’d ever felt coursing through him. He felt no heartbeat against his fingers, which meant either that Ben had been turned, or killed. “No, Ben!” He looked up to Tony, hoping to find even a slight bit of comfort from his friend, but only saw Tony with Tobias’ fangs on his neck. Tobias didn’t even have the kindness to catch him when he fell.

And now, with Ben limp in his arms and Tony bleeding on the floor, now, to Lucas, the world had truly ended.

-🦌 Roe

| part 1 | part 2 | part 3 |

#vampire #vampire bf #gay vampires #original characters #original plotline #post apocalypse #roe #angst #anthony #ben #tobias #lucas #fics

9 notes · View notes

mercurygray · 4 years

Text

Thou Flashing-Eyed

It’s not Thursday, but one of the things you do for yourself on your birthday is give yourself time to write the mindlessly indulgent stuff, and this is that.

I joked with @basilone in one of my comments on The Long Bright Dark that I needed the Winters x Nixon x Wisdom OT3, and Eva kindly laughed with me, not at me, because she’s nice like that.

Guys, I don’t even drink in this bar, I’m borrowing all the glassware, and the tables are rentals. I don’t know what anyone’s going to do to me after publishing this. Be gentle.

Oh, there’s consensual adults (and deities) doing consensual things below the cut.

---

She's subtle, this god of his, changing with the seasons and the tides.

As a child she was old men and women on park benches, telling him to look out, as a young man the bespectacled faces of teachers and tutors, quieter with her advice, her direction gentle. But should you? What might happen? Have you thought about it? Her touch is always cool and calm, her fingers light and gentle in his hair. It's all right. I've got you. Sometimes it's good to cry. Our feelings tell us that we care. Lately she's been a child, dark and wan, flitting in an out of trees like a ghost, her questions following like kicked-up leaves. What do we know? What do we need to know? Who can tell us?

But no matter what form she finds him in, he knows her by her flashing eyes.

He'll look up in some intelligence briefing as he feels the air around him crackle, as if a radio just been switched on, tuned on some divine frequency. Sometimes if he turns around she'll be there, as if she's just pulled up a chair, pinks and greens like she's always belonged, and he can hear the questions that are now as natural to him as breathing, but have you considered, if we look at it this way, let's pause to reflect. It's like a prayer, and when she knows he says it, she smiles, and there is lightning in her eyes.

With Winters, she's a woman, always, straight-backed and tall, and his eyes follow her like a lover.

Is that what she wants from him, what she craves? Is that why she favors him more? Adulation? Is that the kind of worship she wants?

“What am I to you?” he spits one day. She’s slithered down into his foxhole with her grown-woman aspect and her come-hither stare on and he cracks. He’s cold and he’s tired and he’s done, with every last bit of it, the scraps of information and the lack of supplies and lack of sleep and lack of everything that could be of mortal use. “You with...your questions, and your puzzles, and your tests. Why don’t you ever test him?” He doesn’t have to say of whom he’s speaking. They’re the only two of their kind for miles.

Her laughter is long and languid in the dark, and it fills him with desire and longing like he’s never known, and an incurable sadness that somehow, it will never really be filled. That’s the curse of the wise - that the questions you ask yourself in the dark will never really have answers. He feels her arms around his shoulders, her hands in his hair, tender as a mother, sensuous as a wife. He closes his eyes, as though that could make her leave. “I’ve known you from a tiny acorn, my love,” she says. “I grew you, nurtured you. He had to ask.”

His world stops. He ...what? “Just before he left home, he prayed for me, and I came. He wanted counsel, and a willing heart, and clear sight. He asked, Lewis, not for himself but the sake of others. And I gave him those things.”

The world doesn’t make sense for a moment, and he is weak in her arms. But that’s absurd, Dick has always been - really, to think that - but he’s always been so certain -

He’s gaping like a fish, and it’s rude, he knows, but he doesn’t have anything to say. “Would it make you feel better to know how much he envies you?” she asks, a mother smoothing away curls from his face. “Give me certainty like Lewis, he says. Give me quickness and ease. Give me his silver smile, give me his charm.”

“So do it, then.” Since he’s obviously your favorite, he wants to add, brattishly.

Again the laughter, the cool fingers on his cheek. She turns his head towards her so he can see those ageless, flashing eyes. “I can’t give him those things, Lewis. Those are yours. You didn’t get them from me.”

She’s been a part of him for so long it’s hard to know where he stops and she begins - but his eyes meet hers in the dark, and in them is her answer: If he wants me, it’s because I’m a path to knowing you.

...Oh.

That night he stalks to Dick’s foxhole and tells him what he knows about certainty, quickness and ease, and before they can get too loud about it she is there. They are with her and in her and of her, wrapped in the cloak the poets say is made of doubt and indecision and the fog of night.

The poets have a lot to say about what happens when you bed a god - but little’s written about what passes between two people marked by the same divine hand. Less still about what happens when she wants to watch.

Well, it’s good. It’s really, really good.

My bright brave boys, she says, after, almost sated and smiling, wrapped around them panting in the dark, and he feels, for the first time in a long while, the cool keenness of her eyes and the pleasure he gets when they rest on him. And what have we learned? How can we apply it again?

Glaucopis; Gr. γλαυκώπις, owl-eyed, is an epithet usually used for the goddess Athena. It’s also sometimes translated as ‘flashing-eyed’ or ‘gray-eyed.’

(Eagle-eyed Darkening Sky readers will note that both Dick and Joan have, at least once, been described as having eyes that flash.)

#the long bright dark #all the crossovers #basilone #winnix #is not a tag we use on this blog ever #I have written a thing #form and void universe

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kinglazrus · 5 years

Note

For the prompt list thing any chance you wanna do random, #5?

Random #5 - “I would call you an imbecile but that’d be cruel as you wouldn’t be able to spell it.”

It Could be Weird

Danny’s life is weird. Everybody knows it. Even if they don’t know about his part-timejob of being dead, they know about his eccentric ghost-hunting parents, and his uptight psychology obsessed sister, and his own eternal fascination with space.

They know the food in his lunchbox is sometimes alive. They know the lump in his backpack’s water bottle holder isn’t a water bottle but a compact ectogun. They know Danny sleeps above a portal to another dimension.

But they don’t know the weirdest thing about Danny’s life which, amazingly enough,is not the fact that he’s half-dead. It’s that for the past five nights Danny has come home from ghost patrol to find Dash Baxter sitting in his living room, wearing glasses.

Tonight, Danny sneaks in through his bedroom window, phasing through the class. He dumpsthe thermos on his bed—he’ll empty it out later—shakes out the dust and dried ectoplasm from his hair and transforms. Snatching a hoodie off his chair, he fires a harmless ectoblast at his radio on his way out the door, cutting off the music he put on to make it seem like he was home.

He hops down the stairs, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie over his split knuckles, and pauses on his way to the kitchen. Just like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, Dash sits cross-legged in front of the coffee table. His homework is spread out before him, a textbook at his elbow, a pencil in his hand, and a frown on his face.

Jazz sits on the couch holding an identical textbook—Danny’s copy, he recognizes thebloodstain on the spine—and quietly talks Dash through a lesson on cellular development.

Despite coming home to a similar scene four days in a row, it’s still so bizarre thathe stares too long and Jazz catches him watching.

“Did you do your homework?” Jazz asks. The unspoken before ghost hunting lingers between them.

“No.”

“Liar.”

“Fine. I’m going to do it now,” he says.

“You’re still lying,” Jazz singsongs. She slips a page in Danny’s textbook and glances up at him. “You need to keep your grades up if you want to keep…”

She glances at Dash, who’s pencil has stopped moving and is sitting oddly still.

“… making friends. After school.”

“Making friends.” Danny raises an eyebrow at her. He wishes that’s what he was doing after school. It’d be a hell of a lot kinder on his bones.

Jazz flushes but refuses to be cowed. “Get your stuff, you’re working in here.”

Danny tips his head back, groaning, and heads back upstairs to get his backpack.

—

Danny hasn’t touched his homework in five minutes. He gnaws on the end of his pencil,the metal band squishing between his teeth, flicking the eraser with his tongue to make the pencil swing back and forth. Every few seconds, Jazz sends him an admonishing look over the top of Danny’s textbook.

“That’s not working,” she says.

“I’m contemplating the philosophic implications of my assignment,” Danny says.

Jazz doesn’t look impressed.

Danny doesn’t really blame her. His chin is resting on a math textbook.

“It’s important,” he says. “How can I figure out how many pounds of fudge Anabelle has leftover without first considering why she has it? Or where she got it from? Or what the hell a triangle has to do with it?”

Maybe she’s a distant relative of their father’s.

Jazz rolls her eyes and leans over Dash’s shoulder, scanning the questions he’s working on.

“This one’s wrong,” she says, pointing halfway down the page.

Dash huffs, scowling, and furiously erases his answer.

It fascinates Danny. He’s never seen Dash so focused on something that didn’t involve a football or beating Danny up. Not to mention the glasses. Since when does Dash have glasses? They’ve been in the same class since kindergarten and he’s never seen them before.

Not to mention, Dash hasn’t insulted Danny once since he sat down on the other side of the table. Maybe Dash got hit in the head by a stray ectoblast when Kitty showed up during gym class.

Danny spits his pencil out of his mouth, ignoring the disgusted look Jazz gives him,and says, “I thought you already proved you could tutor the ‘untutorable.’”

“I did,” Jazz says. Shaking her long sleeve out over her hand, she reaches out and swats Danny’s pencil back toward him. “I thought you were being philosophical about brownies.”

“Fudge,” Danny corrects her. “And I decided the Fenton appetite is beyond the comprehension of even the greatest philosophers.”

“Anabelle’s a Fenton now?”

“My favourite cousin.”

“Uh-huh.” Jazz closes her borrowed textbook and sets it down on the cushion beside her, folding her hands in her lap. “If you aren’t going to do your work you can just–”

“Jazz!” Their mother’s voice echoes up the basement stairs. “Can you come downhere for a moment?”

Jazz sighs but gets up without a fuss. She points at Danny before heading downstairsand says, “Be nice. Don’t distract my student.”

“Me? But he's– wait, your student?”

Jazz turns away, leaving Danny sputtering and alone with Dash.

It takes Danny a moment to compose himself. When he does, he shoves his homeworkaside, slams his hand on the table, and leans across it into Dash’s personal space.

“Okay, what the hell, why do you keeping coming here?” Danny asks. “Are you hitting on my sister again? Because she already said no, don’t be a creep. I sent the last guy who messed with her to the Ghost Zone.”

Rather than leaning away, Dash gets in Danny’s face and sneers. “Chill out, Fenturd, don’t be an ass.”

“If you're–”

“I said chill out.” Dash shoves Danny’s face away. “You’re sister’s pretty smart, okay? And I need help with science.”

“You really think I’m gonna believe that?” Danny sits back and crosses his arms. Like hell. He remembers how gross Dash was hitting on his sister in ninth grade. Two years was not long enough to recover from that emotional travesty.

“I’m failing the class, okay?” Dash snaps, cheeks red. “I gotta pull my grade up to a C or else I’m off the football team.”

“Oh.” The fight goes out of Danny pretty quickly. He scratches his head and looksaway. “Okay, whatever. My grades aren’t that great either.”

“Yeah, but you’re a loser.”

“Seriously?” Danny glares across the table. “You can’t be civil for two seconds? I wastrying to be nice or whatever, but if you’re just gonna be an ass about it, fine. Wonder how you’re friends’d react to that.”

Dash wrinkles his nose. “What? They already know.”

“And they didn’t kick you out of your little club?” Danny asks flippantly.

“You think we’re that shallow?”

Danny stares at Dash. He can’t be serious. He can’t be that oblivious. All the A-listers care about are looks, money, and popularity, and Danny knows that firsthand.

“I bet Valerie does.”

Dash at least has the mind to look ashamed, and Danny feels a little vindicated at the sight of his downturned eyes.

“You guys were pretty damn cruel to her after she lost all her money. Are you telling me that wasn’t shallow?” Danny asks smugly.

“Like you’re so great, Fenton.”

“A hell of a lot better than you.”

Dash laughs. It’s loud and mocking, and he throws his head back as he does it. “Oh my god. You know how many times I’ve seen you brush off those friends of yours? Didn’t you, like, ditch them to go to a party freshman year? And you replaced them with robots once.”

“Hey, there was more going on there!” Danny defends himself. He doesn’t even know how Dash heard about the robots, but there was more to it, a ghost that could make you greedy.

Danny took care of it pretty quickly once he realized what was up, although that didn’t stop him from feeling like a massive jerk afterwards. But at least he didn’t mean it, and he knew he was a bad friend at that time.

“I don’t think you realize how much I don’t give a shit,” Dash says. “Just leave me alone, Fenton. And if you tell anyone besides my friends about this, I’ll shove you in so many lockers.”

Danny scowls. “Fine. Don’t flirt with my sister though.”

“No problems there. I’m not into girls.”

It takes Danny a second to process that. “Huh.”

“You got a problem with that?”

“What? No. Like, pretty much everyone I’m friends with is in the queer community,myself included. I thought you liked Paulina. And, you know, you flirted with my sister? And pretty much every single cheerleader.” Danny thinks back, trying to remember if there were any hints. Dash used to flirt with girls a lot, but he can’t actually remember him hitting on anyone in the past year. “You know what that is? Growth.”

“Don’t quote gifs at me, loser.” There’s less bite in Dash’s insult and more resignation. The sound of a man who will put up with what he hates for something he needs.

Danny almost smiles. Almost. Dash is still a massive dick, but Danny hates him a little less than usual right now, if only because he isn’t trying to get with Jazz after all.

They fall silent, Dash returning to his work while Danny just sits there and thinks. He glances toward the stairs once, wondering what’s taking Jazz so long, but doesn’t totally mind it. Being alone with Dash isn’t as horrible as he thought it’d be.

He gets bored pretty damn quickly though.

“Okay, the glasses, you have to tell me,” Danny says.

Dash groans, closing his notebook. “They’re glasses. I wear them and stuff gets less blurry. Fascinating.”

“Yeah, but I mean!” Danny waves his arms in a meaningless gesture. “Since when do you have them?”

“Since I got them.”

“Oh my god, I hate you.”

“Feeling’s mutual.”

“I’d call you a sap, but I think you’d punch me for it,” Danny quips, unable to resist.

“I’d call you a loser, but it’s redundant.”

“I can’t believe you know what redundant means.”

Dash glares at Danny. Normally that look makes Danny nervous, because it’s usually followed by a punch to the got or some other, equally painful retribution, but right now Danny’s actually enjoying himself and Dash doesn’t look like he’s about to snap.

“Quick, write the word down before you forget it,” Danny says, tapping Dash’s notebook.

“Shut up, you moron.” Dash swats Danny’s hand with his pencil.

“Oh no, you’re backsliding. Write it fast.”

“Shut up!”

“Want some help? Here, r-e-t-”

“You are such a fucking idiot.”

Danny beams. “I’d call you an imbecile, but I think that’d be cruel since you probably can’t spell it.”

“I swear to god, Fenton.”

“Hey, don’t be mean to my brother!”

Danny ducks his head to hide the shit-eating grin on his face as Jazz returns. She’s glaring at Dash, who sputters as he tries to defend himself, and Danny silently vows to join them for tomorrow’s study session, too, if this is what it’s going to be like.

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scavengerfive · 5 years

Text

Good Enough

I actually signed up for the Abel Secret Santa exchange which was nerve-wracking. Writing fiction about people you know is a bit weird, I know, but it’s all in good fun. I even got Sam to proofread it for me, but between him and me, it’s likely things are still a bit rough. Nonetheless, here it is.

I hope it’s something, @puzzle-of-many-pieces. Thanks for putting all of this together, @runnerzero and @notforconsumption. It takes place in some obscure limbo of season 1. I’m used to writing quiet, stoic, or shy Fives, so when Lyric said they headcanoned Five as vocal, Five ended up coming out as quirky and weird which was fun.

Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!

---

“Looking good, Runner Five.”

“There he goes again. It’s really unfair. How come I can never get Sam to flirt with me? It makes a man feel a bit insecure.”

“W-what? I-I’m not flirting… I was just–Five is making good time, and there are no zombs close enough to worry about. That’s all I meant.”

“Sure, it is. So, how come you didn’t say, ‘Looking good, runners’?” There are three of us out here, you know.”

“Well-I–I mean–I didn’t forget–I just… shut up, Simon.”

“Hey, you know the rules. Numbers only.”

“You!? You want to talk about rules?”

Jody’s muffled giggles were clear over the commlink, and you too snickered to yourself as Sam’s voice hit a new octave. Simon never failed to wind Sam up. You didn’t mind the banter. It was better than the oppressive silence of another ghost town or a chorus of the undead making their rounds. Like Sam said, there were no zombs in the immediate vicinity, so you couldn’t hear any eerie moaning filling the air.

You couldn’t see the other two runners anymore, but you trusted them to take care of themselves. You would all meet up soon enough anyways. For now, you scanned the signs of the buildings you passed. Each runner had specific items to collect, things the township was running low on, but there was enough leeway for you to snag anything you thought would be handy or appreciated.

You found yourself stepping into an old convenience store. It had clearly been ransacked quite a few times, but there were always things people overlooked. You bagged a few expired painkillers and batteries, along with twine and deodorant (which was definitely needed). Your eyes alighted on a box behind the counter, and with a small smile, you shoved it into your bag before roaming the aisles, snagging a few more supplies. You knocked some books into the bag along with magazines, paper, and pens.

“All right, guys. It’s time to head back home. You’ve got everything you need?” Sam asked.

The commlink was filled with affirmatives, and as you jogged back towards Abel, you were joined by Jody then Simon, the two runners falling to your side. You flashed a quick smile to each of them.

“So, how was your luck?” Simon asked, an easy smile on his lips.

Jody grimaced.

“I got most of my stuff, but it’s really hard to find a working radio nowadays,” she said. “Found a broken one. It should be good for parts.”

“Five?”

You adjusted the bag on your back, squinting into the setting sun. You thought you could see the radio tower in the distance even though you should be too far off to spot it yet. It was most likely wistful imaginings.

“Good. You?”

“Janine should be pleased. I got her those wire strippers she’s always asking for. Plus, a few things for the Doc.”

Your headset crackled to life, and you heard Sam’s voice over the commlink again.

“I’ve spotted a few zombs in your path, but they should shamble on before you guys reach them. Keep an eye out though.”

“Got it, Sam,” Simon and Jody said at the same time, and Jody added, “Thanks.”

The three of you ran in comfortable silence, each keeping an eye out for any nasty surprises lurking. Soon enough, you could actually see the tower this time, the red beacon switched on even though there was still enough light to see your surroundings.

“So…”

Your eyes drifted over to look at Simon who had a mischievous smile growing on his face. You felt mild trepidation at the sight, but it was swiftly overpowered by a familiar excitement. You and Simon were dangerous together because you were too easily caught up in his recklessness. So, you were not the least bit surprised when the next two words came out of his mouth.

“Race ya?”

“Wait, what? Guys!” Jody yelled as you booked it after Simon’s cackling form.

“Keep up, Runner 4!”

“Not again, guys,” Sam groaned in your ears, and you grinned.

—

“You’ve really been keeping yourself busy, Five. I think you have your name down for every supply run we have coming up for the next month. All that on top of your regular missions? If you keep this up, Maxine might mandate a break for you, and I would agree with her.”

You were rifling through the sports equipment as Sam worried in your ears, something you were used to by now. You supposed some of these compression sleeves you were examining would be useful and bagged them. Extra protection. Circulation efficiency. Whoo!

“I’m fine, Sam. I won’t overdo it.”

“If you say so… what are you looking for anyways?”

“Cricket bat.”

“Why?”

“Request.”

“Ah…”

You moved into the next aisle, coming across some fishing gear and archery equipment. There were no rods left (understandably), but there were some string and a few hooks. You knew Janine would be eager to get her hands on anything useful, so you were quick to fill your pockets, snagging the hooks through your bag’s straps to secure them. There was little else of note but two plastic bows, a few arrows, and other archery equipment like sights and guards, which surprised you. You would have expected people to have taken everything, but you supposed archery wasn’t the most common skill. A bow and quiver of arrows would be an unnecessary burden if someone didn’t know how to use them.

You picked up a bow and plucked the string in thought.

Cr-clash!

A stand collapsed to the ground, and a zombie in a tattered shirt stumbled over it. It still had a name tag hanging off the torn fabric. The undead employee shambled towards you, arms out, and a moan whistling through its rotting jaw.

“Five! Is that a zombie I hear? Tell me it isn’t.”

“It isn’t,” you lied as you stumbled back, hand reaching out for something. D-mnit, you didn’t bring your bat because you wanted your hands free. The store was supposed to be cleared. You turned in time to see another zombie on the other end of the aisle, blocking your escape. Its groans joined the first. “It’s two zombies.”

“Aw, man… it should have been empty. Can you run out of there?”

“Not really.”

Your fingers closed around a smooth, narrow shaft, and with little hesitation, you notched the arrow and aimed at the first zombie which was closest, elbow high. One of your eyes squeezed shut, and the head of the arrow buried itself in the zombies forehead with a solid thud. With no pause, you grabbed another arrow, swung around, and got the second zombie through the eye just as its hand brushed your arm.

When it crumbled to the ground like the first, you waited a moment longer, just in case, before you let your stance drop. Your breathing was loud in your ears, and as you sought to calm your heart back down, your ears tuned back into Sam’s frantic voice.

“–VE! Answer me, d-mnit! What’s going on?! Are you all right?”

You blinked and let out a shaky breath. Slumped against the wall, you said, “I’m fine, Sam. I took care of them.”

“Thank G-d,” he breathed. “Don’t go quiet on me like that again. Not like that. I was worried.”

“Sorry, Sam. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better.”

The twitching of the zombies’ bodies stilled, and you gingerly padded over to the first one, planting a shoe on its jaw. Wrapping a hand around the arrow, you yanked it out with a nauseating squelch. The tip was red and wet, but you figured you could wipe it down easily enough. You retrieved the second one similarly. Honestly, this wasn’t the first time you found yourself thankful since the outbreak for that summer at camp. Even you couldn’t miss with targets that close.

You left the shop minutes later with the cricket bat you had come for and some other useful supplies but not before snagging a thin book off one of the shelves that caught your eye.

“I’m heading back, Sam.”

“Good. You owe me a Curly Wurly for my troubles.”

“Fine.”

—

“Runner Five, I thought I had ordered you to be taken off the roster for at least a week,” Maxine’s disapproving voice said through your headset.

You grimaced from where you were hunkered down behind a low wall at the edge of someone’s old yard. Dirt was working its way under your nails as your fingers burrowed into the wilted grass. The sound of the undead surrounding your hiding spot was almost deafening. You needed Sam right now, not a lecture.

“Now’s not the best time, doc,” you hissed into your mic, peeking over the faded bricks before ducking back down.

“You wouldn’t be in this situation if you had listened to me.”

“That’s fair but still not the time.”

“Maxie!” You could hear Sam’s muffled yell through the headset. There was a scuffling sound before his voice became much clearer. “How many times–Runner Five! What the h-ll?! I was only gone for three minutes. How did you end up surrounded by–what is it? At least, thirty zombies! Five!”

“Luck?”

He sighed, and a strained smile flashed across your face. You were certain that was a sigh reserved only for you.

“You’re giving me grey hairs, Five. I’m gonna get you out of there, and then we’re gonna have words.”

“Get me out, and you can have a whole dictionary.”

“Right. To your left, there’s a break between those two houses, the blue and green one. Head for it. You won’t be able to avoid catching some of the zombies’ attention, but you should be able to lose most of them if you are quick. Go. Now!”

You sprang up and made a dash for the gap Sam had pointed out. From the way the groans got even louder behind you, you knew you had been spotted. No worry. You’d dealt with worse. Compared to what you and Sara usually got up to, this was a holiday.

“Five, things aren’t looking pretty anymore. Change of plans. Can you get into that house right there? The one with the broken window. Yes, that one. In you go. Yup! Be careful. Don’t cut yourself.”

Your shoes crunched over the broken glass on the tiled floor as you levered yourself down from the sill. You peered around, hands tight around the handle of the bat you had collected from a garage before getting trapped in the neighborhood. You couldn’t be certain that there were no zombies waiting out of sight, ready to jump you if you let your guard down.

“If you can go out the front door, that street is a bit more deserted. It won’t be for long, so be quick.”

Your feet were nearly silent as you made your way out of the kitchen and into the living room, the room dim and musty. Expected when there was no one to dust. The smell of decay hit your nose, and you startled at the sight of a body on the couch.

Swinging around, you had your bat at the ready. It took a moment to register that the body’s head was caved in and slumped into the cushions. It didn’t look fresh. The blood had dried into a dark stain with clumps of hair in it. Someone else had already taken care of the zombie–if it had been one. Humans still killed humans despite the apocalypse.

“I don’t see you on my cameras, Five. What’s taking you so long? Your way out is getting more crowded by the second.”

“There’s a body. Dead.”

“Dead dead or about to bite you and make you one of them dead?”

“…dead dead.”

“One less thing to worry about… what is it, Maxine?” You heard a muffled voice. “What do you mean Five is supposed to be off running duty? Their name was… Five? What did you do?”

“Runner Six was feeling sick, so I covered for her.”

“Five…”

Your eyes perused the shelves out of habit, looking for anything an Abel resident might like. Wait…

You pulled down a DVD case and popped open the cover.

“Woah…”

“What is it?”

You snapped it shut, the plastic making a dull clicking sound. Looking back at the shelves, you grinned.

“Nothing. I’m coming out.”

You ran out into the horde a moment later and trusted Sam to get you home but not before a few more things made their home in your bag.

—

The gates rose before you, and you pedaled hard to clear them, riding under the spray of bullets that mowed down the zombies that had been on your tail. Residents looked up as you came to a smooth stop, a wild grin on your face that only died a little when you saw Maxine waiting for you with her arms crossed.

You held up your hands and waited for the klaxon of the lowering gate to go quiet.

“I swear, this time, I meant to help out in the kitchen, but Janine asked for me personally. I couldn’t say no, could I?”

“You could have, and you will,” Maxine said. “The guards have been informed that you’re not allowed to leave Abel for the next week, so don’t expect anyone to raise the gates for you–even if your name is on the roster.”

“Aw… Maxine…”

“Five.”

“I’m an Abel runner and an able runner,” you said, grinning when Maxine groaned. “If I can run, shouldn’t I?”

“If you overdo it, you won’t be able to run when we need you to.”

She frowned when you snickered at her unintentional pun. You sobered up (sans a small pout) and nodded.

“Fine. Doctor’s orders are doctor’s orders,“ you ceded, climbing off the bike. "I’ll be by the clinic for my bite check in a second. I just need to drop some things off. Scout’s honour.”

“I’m certain you’ve never been a scout.”

“Fine… runner’s honour.”

“You have honour now?”

You mock gasped as you walked away then went in search of Runner 16. You figured the bike was too big to hide, and too many people had seen you ride in on it, so you might as well deliver it to the runner now. The back tire was a bit flat, but it got you home safely. You were certain the runner would be able to fix it up, no problem.

Now, Sixteen didn’t cry per se, but you were certain his eyes looked a little misty as you passed him the bike. You awkwardly waved off his effusive gratitude and made an escape to your room that barely had any space left in it, digging through your supply bag and tossing some things onto your bed, which was about the only free space left at this point. The more people trusted a runner, the less likely their bag was taken from them the moment they got back to Abel and all the supplies stored away.

You had managed to get about the last few things you were looking for before Maxine took you off rotation. There was more you could have gotten, but this should suffice. Thankfully, no one checked the rooms regularly, or you would have gotten in trouble by now. It was worth it though. This was the best way you knew to express what you didn’t know how to in words.

You took the rest of the mostly full bag and stepped out of the cramped room. On the wall next to your “door”, where you had first missed it, a small, hand-written note was stuck to the wood. You peeled it off. At closer inspection, you realized it was a flyer for this year’s holiday party, hosted by Jack and Eugene. You’ve heard stories about past ones. You were almost surprised Janine would allow it (if the men indeed asked her permission), but you also knew she knew the importance of keeping up morale. She would most definitely regret it by the end of the night though.

Tucking the slip of paper away into your pocket, you adjusted the bag on your shoulders and jogged out of the runners’ quarters. You made sure to drop off the rest of the collected supplies and made a quick detour to the comm shack to return your headset. Then, you went to the clinic where Maxine was waiting for you.

—

Despite your best efforts, you did not manage to sneak out of the township for a run again. It was a long shot, but you tried anyways. The guards, however, were not willing to risk Maxine’s wrath, not when she had reign over the good stuff, like aspirin and plasters, so you were stuck helping out around the township. You took a shift in the kitchen almost every day and volunteered to read to the children at the school where they were working their way through the Harry Potter series.

Around the township, you could see the oncoming holiday season due to the collective efforts of Abel’s residents. There were festive decorations, found or made, hung up on or tacked onto different buildings. There was even a tree in the quad, small but brightly decorated. Simon had brought it in.

You breathed into your hands, having forgotten to wear your threadbare gloves before you started making your way to the clinic to help Maxine. There had been an accident with one of the construction efforts. No one was killed, but there were a few injuries that Maxine needed a few extra hands on. You liked to be useful. Plus, you hoped, if you put yourself in the good graces of everyone, you might be forgiven if you got caught tonight.

—

It was moments like this you wished you had an operator in your ear, preferably Sam, but you knew he would talk you out of this or get you both caught. You wouldn’t want to get him in trouble. Plus, he would probably spill everything.

It was risky being out past curfew. The consequences were severe because Janine and the Major enforced them, but it was also the best time to act if you wanted your plan to be a success. The only downside was that you had to keep making trips back to your room because everything was too much to carry at once. Each dash back to the runners’ quarters increased your chances of getting caught, but it was unavoidable. You were surprised you made it this far anyways. The apocalypse had trained everyone to be light sleepers, and you found yourself blending into shadows more often than not when a groggy individual swung first, opened their eyes later.

“Hey! Who’s there? Joe!”

You threw yourself down behind a woodpile as torchlight shone where you were just moments ago. With your back pressed against the wood, splinters embedding themselves into the fabric of your coat, you held your breath.

“I didn’t see anything, Pete.”

“I was certain… never mind. No one would be stupid enough to be out here now anyways.”

You bet your -rse there’d be someone stupid enough. Case in point: you. You smothered your anxious snicker before you could give yourself away.

Waiting with bated breath for the light to move on, you still waited moments more before you risked moving. You had only one more delivery to make anyways, but it would certainly be the riskiest, which is why you saved it for last.

The wall of Janine’s farmhouse loomed over you, and you questioned your sanity once more. You must be insane for even considering breaking into Janine’s home, let alone actually doing it, but here you were, pushing open a window you had made sure was unlocked earlier when you visited to drop of some files. You weren’t going to try anything fancy like getting into her room. You were stupid, not suicidal. The counter should do.

When you got the window open wide enough, you bent down to pick up the items you placed on the ground after you managed not to drop them on your way over. You straightened up…

Click.

…only to be face to face with the barrel of a rifle.

Sh-t.

“Runner Five, I do hope you have authorization to be out past curfew. Though, where you would have gotten that authorization, I don’t know, since I’m the only one who can grant it.”

“…Happy Christmas?” you squeaked, holding up your gifts with a shaky smile.

—

It smelled like death. You were ready to die. Your muscles shook as you hefted another shovelful of semi-frozen sh-t to add to the growing pile of semi-frozen sh-t in the wheelbarrow before driving the shovel back into the earth.

Latrine duty. You supposed it could have been worse. Janine could have been shot you or exiled you, or worse, taken you off running duty permanently. You shuddered at the thought then scratched your nose through the handkerchief that did little to block out the smell. At least, it wasn’t as bad as it was in the summer when the rain made it all wet and the sun made it smell to high heaven. As winter settled in, it only really hit you when you were ankle deep in it. You just hoped you wouldn’t smell like sh-t at the party tonight.

The intercom announced that it was time for breakfast right when your stomach growled, and you shucked the shovel to the side, peeling off and folding the work gloves before placing them on the shelf. You pulled on the new gloves you had traded a screwdriver for because it was getting too for your old ones to do any good. You would come back after you’ve eaten. You’ve been working since sunrise and deserved a break.

As you walked through Abel, towards the kitchen, you took a moment to observe the residents moving about around you. You could see lil’ Molly, walking hand-in-hand with Ed, clutching her old bunny which now bore a red knit hat and scarf. The tot fussed with it then babbled excitedly at her dad. They passed by Runner 16 who was standing with his new bike, gesturing wildly as he spoke with a big smile to Runner Six who was clutching a blue notebook and pen.

You hid a smile and joined the food queue to wait for your ration, listening to the conversations around you.

“I just woke up and found a Cluedo box in my room. Unopened. Do you know how rare that is? I don’t know…”

“…a Bible. A little worn and marked up, but it’s not missing any pages. When I saw it, I just started crying…”

“…new boots and pants. I’m almost embarrassed to ask who knew I needed…”

“It was only a pack, but I had just about forgotten what gum tastes like. You want one? I have…”

“…loose tea. I can finally have a decent cuppa. Just because the world ended…”

“Five?”

Your head jerked up, and you realized you were at the front of the queue. Some people were giving you weird or impatient looks, but you just grabbed a tray and worked your way down the table. There was a rare offering of hot chocolate at the end, and you took a cup. You wondered how the kitchen got their hands on hot chocolate mix and smirked to yourself as you inhaled the rich scent in the steam.

“Five! Over here!”

Sam waved widely at you from his spot at a table, his smile big under a red tinged nose. An orange knit hat shoved his bangs down over his eyes, and he brushed them aside to beam at you as you walked over to where he was sitting with Jody and Simon. Jody was hunched over yarn and knitting needles, having chosen to brave the cold it seemed rather than wear gloves that would hinder her work, while Simon seemed intent on inhaling his meal with no room for coming up for air.

“Five!” Sam exclaimed as you sat across from him. He was clutching a DVD case to his chest. “You wouldn’t believe it! An actually copy of Toy Story. No one’s been able to find one since the outbreak. It’s unbelievable. When I went to the comms shack this morning to check the equipment, the case was just laying on my desk–along with a jar of Marmite and a bat. Can you believe it?”

“Yeah,” Simon said between mouthfuls (or rather, with a mouthful). “I found a football in my room. Don’t know how it got there. It certainly wasn’t there when I turned in.”

Jody flashed him a disgusted look at his lack of table manners before she beamed at you.

“It looks like Abel’s got itself a Secret Santa. They got me yarn and needles, wool, a strander… just about everything I needed to keep knitting.”

“And a bow and arrows,” Sam added. "Which is–majorly cool.”

“Yeah,” Jody said with a blush. “I guess they must have heard me on Radio Abel. It’s sweet. They even got me a book on how to make my own supplies.”

You saw Janine queue up with Sara over Sam’s shoulder. The two women were conversing, and when one looked at you, the other turned too. Janine had a glare that you would swear was not as harsh as usual while Sara cocked a brow at you. You could see she was carrying a familiar, hardcover book.

You tried not to wheeze. She knew, didn’t she?

“Did you get anything, Five?” Sam asked.

“Huh?” you gasped, looking back at him. “Oh… I got new socks and these gloves,” you said, holding up your hands and wiggling your fingers. “Warm and cozy.”

“Do you think they’ll come out?”

“Who?”

“The Secret Santa.”

“I think if they had wanted credit, they wouldn’t have gone through so much trouble to avoid getting found out,” you said, sipping your hot chocolate when Sam squinted at you.

“I just don’t get how they did it,” Jody said.

“They’ve got to be a runner. Or working with one,” said Simon.

“No, that’s obvious. I meant how they delivered everything. What about curfew?”

“Maybe they got permission from Janine or got a guard to help them.”

“Or maybe they just didn’t get caught,” Sam added, an amused smile on his face as he shot a look at you.

Hah! You sipped your hot chocolate aggressively and almost choked as it burned your throat. You didn’t need this type of irony or suspicion in your life right now.

“And thank G-d for the hot chocolate.”

“Are you all going to the party later? If I heard correctly, Jack and Eugene got their hands on some booze, and I, for one, am thirsty,” said Simon.

“When aren’t you?”

Simon shot a glare at Jody then you for snickering.

“I should be back from my run on time,” Jody said. “Are you still grounded, Five?”

“Haha… yes…” You huffed. “Which means I’ll be around for it at least.”

“I’ve got a shift at the clinic today, so I’m free tonight,” Simon said.

The intercom came to life over their heads, calling all runners on duty today to retrieve their headsets and report to the gates for briefing.

“That’s my cue as well,” Sam said as Jody packed away her knitting.

“See ya, guys,” Jody said.

The two took their empty trays with them as you and Simon bid them good luck. You turned your focus to the rest of your meal, wanting to eat it all before it got too cold.

“So, did you get permission from Janine?”

“For what?” you asked around a banger halfway in your mouth.

“To sneak around past curfew.”

“…I don’t know what you mean. Oh, look at the time, I have to get back to latrine duty. See ya, Simon.”

Smooth.

—

“And let us make a toast to the Secret Santa that brought a little more needed cheer to our dreary existence this year!”

“Jack!”

“What? It’s true.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to say it. To our very Secret Santa who we are all very thankful for.”

The room cheered while Jack bickered back at Eugene. Jody accepted a cup from Simon and shifted over to let him sit.

“So, when are we going to tell Five that pretty much everyone knows it was them?” Simon asked.

Ed, who was nearby, snorted, and the two runners chuckled. They could see you by the wall with Sam, the two of you watching Jack and Eugene drunkenly joke off. You were clearly trying to hide a smile in your sleeve.

“What did Five get you, Ed?” Jody asked.

“Some old driving games,” Ed said over his cup. “I missed playing them. And they got Molly a hat and scarf for her rabbit. She adores them.”

“I don’t think we should tell them,” Jody decided.

“Why is that?” Simon asked.

“They clearly went through so much trouble to keep it a secret. I don’t think they’d want the attention.”

They saw you look up when Sam leaned over to say something to you, and you started sputtering, gesturing wildly in what looked like denial.

“So, what? We say nothing?”

“I know, the idea is new to you,” Jody teased, grinning at Simon’s offense, “but yeah. We all know. That’s good enough. Let’s let them think they got away with it.”

“All right. Here’s to ‘Secret’ Santas,” Simon said, raising his cup.

“And oblivious Fives.”

"I’ll drink to that,” Ed said.

“Hear, hear,” crowed those around them.

Jody snickered when the commotion caught your attention from across the room, but she wasn’t too worried. You weren’t the most perceptive, but, at least, your heart was always in the right place. She figured that was good enough.

65 notes · View notes

yesloverboy · 5 years

Text

Punk Rock Girl, Please Look at Me (mgk!Tommy Lee x Reader)

Requested: @angelfuzzy2

“Oh well it could kinda be a one shot , But I do have one , where Tommy Meets the reader , like early on in his life , looses her (like lost track of her) later to find out she’s a famous singer and tommy meets her again , at her concert or they meet at a party again and reconnect , but the rest of the band don’t know the reader is like seriously famous yet , just Tommy , but the band finds out later”

Note: Thank you all for your patience! I loved writing this request so much, so let me know if y’all would like to see sequel. As always, I know I’ve been a super slow writer because of my new job, but feel free to send me more requests! They’re pretty much always open, and I’m more than willing to write for the other Crüe boys. :)

Edit: also props to anyone who knows where I got the title from.

word count: 5,632

[Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, misogyny, swearing, drug & alcohol mention/usage, mild injuries, and two pining idiots]

The stage lights are blinding as the last note of the song plays out, the sound of guitar feedback drowning out the roar of the crowd beneath you. You breathe hard, sweat dripping from your hair as a broad smile stretches across your face. This is what you loved most in the world– playing music in front of dozens of your supporting fans. When you sang, they sang every word right back to you. No feeling in the world could ever replace that. You and your band Vertigo are on the verge of a big break, and these are the people that helped get you there.

As you step off the stage, your manager Scott immediately rushes to your side with a towel and a water bottle in hand. You accept both, pouring the water onto your head and shaking off like a dog. Scott raises his hands in an effort to shield himself, but ends up showered with water anyways. You roll your eyes, not knowing what the big deal is. It’s your final show of the tour, he should be used to it by now.

“Hey, Y/N!” Scott calls as you move past him to go to the green room, “There’s a guy out by the bar that’s been bugging all night to see you.”

You turn on your heel to face Scott, eyebrow raised in confusion, “What guy?”

Scott shrugs, “Says his name is Tommy Lee.”

Tommy Lee, your mind reels at the sound of his name. A flash of memories flood your head, all of which playing visions of your childhood. Tommy had been your first friend when you moved to California in the third grade, and ended up being your last when you moved away in high school. All these years, you can’t believe that he would remember you, let alone recognize you.

You give your bandmates a quick heads up, and amble out to the bar area in search of Tommy. Surprisingly, you feel nervous for the first time in years. You aren’t sure what he looks like or what he’s up to these days– and there is always the chance that he wouldn’t take a girl in a band seriously. That happens a lot more than you’d like to admit.

Luckily, you don’t have to search for long before a loud voice calls to you from the end of the bar.

“Y/N! Hey, over here!”

You look over and are caught breathless by the sight of a tall stranger with long, brown hair waving enthusiastically in your direction. He definitely looks different from how you remember, but the smile he’s giving you is just the same. Back in the day, you knew Tommy was a cute kid, but you never imagined he would turn out to look quite this handsome. He’s tall, lean, and completely rocking a pair of tight, leather pants.

Walking over, you muss your hair into some semblance of order and wipe at the remaining eyeliner running from the corners of your eyes. You are fully aware of how much of a mess you look. It’s a part of your thing. Smeared lipstick, melted eyeliner, and ripped jeans are basically your work uniform. Music executives and your fans like you because of how uncaring you look. You’re like one of the guys– only hotter. The problem is, you had never once been self-conscious about it. That is, until now.

As you nervously approach Tommy’s smiling face, you notice he has a slightly busted lip and the ghost of a black eye beginning to form. He stands up from his seat at the bar, towering over you at a surprising height.

“Tommy, is that really you?” you ask, feeling as though you’re practically looking up into his eyes, “How in the hell did you find me?”

“The one and only!” Tommy laughs, pulling you into a bone crushing hug. He still has a familiar smell that lingers with the cigarette smoke clinging to his hair and clothes. “I actually got kicked out of the bar across the street so I came over here,” he answers sheepishly.

“Kicked out? Tommy what fuck–”

“It doesn’t matter, dude, because I found you!” Tommy slaps you hard on the shoulder, his boyish grin still persisting, “Your band fucking rocks, by the way. When did you learn to sing like that?”

“Oh, um, I guess when I moved away? I didn’t have many friends so I turned to music instead,” you reply, face feeling hot from the sound of Tommy’s praises, “Obviously, it’s more complicated than that, but you get the idea.”

Tommy grabs his beer off the bar and tips it back, finishing the rest of it in one gulp, “Why don’t you tell me all about it?”

He wipes his mouth with the back of a large hand and you feel your throat go dry. When you were younger, Tommy had been the one person you could always be yourself around. However, having him barge into your life as a hot stranger is an entirely different story.

“Tommy, I don’t know, man. My band is probably gonna come looking for me.”

“Let ‘em. Remember the old diner at the end of the block? It’ll be just like old times,” Tommy looks at you with pleading, blue eyes, reminding you of the first time you met him on the playground all those years ago. “Besides, my band might just be looking for me, too.”

“Aw, fuck it,” you relent, trying your best to conceal the smile on your face. Needless to say, it’s a losing battle.

...

You and Tommy end up staying at the diner until closing, exchanging old memories over a shared platter of blueberry pancakes and a chocolate shake. As it fate would have it, the two of you still have just as much in common as you did when you were kids. Maybe even more.

It absolutely delighted you to find out that Tommy is still playing the drums– only this time it’s for a band of his very own. He told you that he even found a friend from high school to join Mötley Crüe, but he and Tommy had apparently met long after you’d already left. Vince was his name and, although he sounds like a bit of a diva, Tommy insisted that you’ll like him. Then again, Tommy likes everyone.

Eventually, you’d even gotten around to telling Tommy all about Vertigo and how you had already amassed a large following on the East Coast. When the band’s single got played on a radio station in the UK, that was the moment you all decided to take things to the next level. The only piece of the puzzle that seemed to be missing was the West Coast, which gave you the perfect excuse to end the tour in L.A. and relocate.

“Wait, so you’re back for good?” Tommy had asked, eyes hopeful as he nearly bounced out of his seat.

“For now,” you smiled, knowing that you couldn’t totally be sure. Your chest tightened as you found a small part of yourself wanting to say yes instead.

In your life, you had never been the kind of person who thought they needed to be completed by anyone else. You’re independent– a stand alone personality and the hero of your own story. However, something about seeing Tommy again brought your attention to an emptiness in your heart that you never knew existed. It didn’t make any sense. Being in the band meant you were around guys all day, and not a single one made you take so much as a second glance.

Now, as you and Tommy step out of the vacant diner and onto the strip, you catch yourself staring as the neon lights shift and dance across his face. Much like when you were kids, Tommy’s resting face was one of a perpetual smile– even with a black eye and a busted lip.

“Hey dude,” Tommy stops suddenly, shaking you out of your trance, “you should totally come meet the band!”

“Are they nearby?” you ask, eyebrows raised as you scan the droves of people clamouring along the strip.

Tommy scoffs, “Where do you think I was with before I found your sorry ass?”

You giggle at his teasing tone and ram your body into his, nearly crowding Tommy off of the sidewalk and into the busy street.

“Better watch yourself Bass, or Mötley Crüe might end up needing a new drummer,” you bait as Tommy catches his balance, teetering on a single foot back to the safety of the sidewalk. “Since when did you start going by Lee, anyways?

“Since it sounded so much cooler,” he grins, throwing his long arm over your shoulders and around your neck as the two of you walk onward.

“Cool? When have you ever been cool?”

Tommy glances down at you, knitting his brows together and pursing his lips in exaggeration. “Now that I think about it, right around when you left. Your nerd juice must have stopped rubbing off on me.”

“Shut the fuck up, loser,” you groan in frustration. Although you sound annoyed, you still lean into his side, maybe getting a little bit cozier than you ought to. To your satisfaction, Tommy hums contently and holds onto you just a little bit tighter. At this point in your lives, you and Tommy should have so many degrees of separation between the two of you that it would be impossible to connect again. Yet, here you are. Walking side by side, as if your feet had been stepping in sync with his for all those empty years in between. You wonder if he can feel it, too.

After walking a few blocks, you and Tommy stroll up towards a broken-down dive bar teeming with people. Judging by the leather clad kids in patched jackets and paramilitary boots, it is definitely the kind of punk scene you were comfortable in. Tommy’s pretty-boy appearance causes him to stand out a little, but his attitude makes up for it tenfold.

As you approach the bar, Tommy leads right up to a couple of young guys knocking back a row of shots. A third, more mature-looking man watches them from a barstool, disdain visible even from behind the dark sunglasses over his eyes. The man in the sunglasses notices the two of you walking up together and pulls down his shades to reveal a pair of cold, blue eyes.

“Drummer,” the man nods, “and friend.” Despite the room’s warmth from the summer heat, the iciness in the man’s stare makes you shiver involuntarily.

“What’s up fuckers!” Tommy exclaims, slapping the two younger guys on the back excitedly. The taller of the two spins around first, his mane of fluffy black hair sticking up wildly in all directions.

“Hey T-bone! Where the fuck have you been? Nice shiner, by the way,” his face twists into a mischievous smile as his green eyes land on you, “And who do we have here?”

“Oh yeah! Nikki, this is Y/N. She was, like, my best friend when we were kids. I just found her at a show a little bit ago.”

Nikki nudges the guy at his side, blonde hair and skin-tight tank top making you recognize him as Vince from yours and Tommy’s high school. You never actually got the chance to meet him before you moved away, but Tommy’s description of him being a diva seems pretty spot-on.

“Hey, Vinnie, check out T-bone’s best friend,” you frown at the patronizing lilt in Nikki’s voice, but decide to let it slide for now.

Vince grabs a beer off of the bar, taking a thoughtful swig while he studies you. “Well, well, well– it looks like Tommy’s found himself another one already.”

“Another one, what?” you snap, unable to control your flush of anger.

From what you could remember, Tommy may have been girl-crazy– and a little stupid sometimes –but he was never as arrogant and mean-spirited as the two guys in front of you seem to be coming across. It’s clear to you, even now, that Tommy is still a kid at heart, but his friends were ready to be rockstars down to their very core.

Vince takes a reflexive step back from you, and you smirk with satisfaction. “Uh, nothing,” he flounders, eyes darting between Nikki and Tommy anxiously. From his seat at the bar, you can hear the man in the sunglasses chuckle.

Vince throws his beer in the man’s direction and misses, the bottle clattering noisily to the floor without breaking. “Shut the fuck up, Mick,” Vince’s clearly bruised ego almosts gets a laugh out of you.

“Chill out, dude,” Nikki purs, stepping directly past Tommy and into your personal space, “you don’t have to explain anything to us– we get it.”

Tommy tries to wedge himself between you and Nikki, doing his best to intervene before things can escalate any further. Your teeth are gritted, firmly locking your jaw in an expression of restrained anger. More than anything, you want to wipe Nikki’s smug smile right off of his face. Nikki might be nearly as tall as Tommy, but you refuse to be intimidated.

The only thing stopping you is knowing that giving Nikki a fight would only cause more problems than it could solve. Even then, when you first agreed to be the frontwoman of Vertigo, you promised yourself that you would hold your own with the band guys without ever becoming like any of them. You aren’t about to let some amateur punk change that.

“Dudes, calm down! Y/N is one of my oldest friends, and I swear it’s not like that!”

“Whatever you say, T-bone,” Nikki shrugs, finally backing away from you in favor of leaning up against the bar. He stands there cooly as if he wasn’t just inches away from you. It’s more than obvious that Nikki was never actually going to engage in any kind of fight– the confrontation alone is enough to get him off.

Rolling your eyes, you return to Tommy’s side, wanting to put as much distance between yourself and his bandmates without hurting his feelings. You’re used to dealing with shitty rockstars and wannabe playboys, but since Vertigo’s newfound successes you had been dealing with it far less often.

“Besides,” Tommy continues, talking to no one in particular as he rests a supportive hand on your shoulder, “Y/N isn’t just my friend she’s–”

Realizing that Tommy is about to expose you as the singer of Vertigo, you quickly interrupt. Judging by the way Vince and Nikki feel about you while assuming you’re just some random girl, you decide that they don’t need to know you’re in a band. Hyper-masculine rock types tend to not take kindly to any woman that isn’t Joan Jett, and you aren’t ready to crack open that can of worms.

“Just visiting!” you say, plastering an artificial smile across your face.

For some reason, your reunion with Tommy makes you want to keep seeing him while you’re in town, and the only way that can happen is if you have as little attention paid to you as possible. With the band’s popularity on the East Coast, you know it won’t be long before everyone in L.A. will know your name– even the guys in Mötley Crüe.

“Speaking of,” you turn to Tommy, blatantly disregarding the confounded expression on his face, “I think I should probably be getting back to my hotel right about now. It’s getting late.”

“Uh yeah, sure,” Tommy blinks, “let me walk you there.”

“Come on, man, you don’t have to do all that. It’s way too long of a walk,” you complain knowing full well that you can handle a late night stroll on your own. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

“As if a short shit like you could hold your own in the big city,” Tommy’s joking voice settles your nerves. You turn to lead the way out of the bar, not bothering to say another word to the rest of Mötley Crüe.

By the time you shove past the shuffling crowd of punks and step outside, Tommy has already caught up to you. The night is warm with a gentle breeze that tickles your face, reminding you of careless, childhood summers where your nights spent at home were few and far between. Tommy had been by your side then and, miraculously, he’s at your side now. You find yourself constantly amazed at the way so much can change, and yet stay exactly the same.

“Sorry about all that, dude,” Tommy’s eyes are trained on the ground as he kicks his feet sheepishly, “I don’t know what’s gotten into them tonight. I mean, I know how they are around girls but you’re– you’re different.”

You punch his shoulder playfully, not wanting Tommy to feel responsible for the fact that his friends were clearly just drunk idiots acting like pigs.

“It’s alright, Tommy. You can’t fix stupid. Trust me, I tried to fix you for years.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he grins, eyes finally meeting yours. Every time Tommy looks at you, something stirs inside of you that you can’t put your finger on. The feeling excites and scares you, but you know that all of the best things in life are supposed to make you feel that way. Arm in arm, you and Tommy walk into the neon glow of the night, your heart skipping a beat with every step.

...

The walk ends up being a lot longer than either of you had expected, but neither of you seem to mind. In fact, the further you got away from the strip, the more connected to Tommy you seem to feel. The two of you had passed a cigarette back and forth as you travelled, walking so closely that it was a miracle one of you hadn’t tripped over the other’s feet.

When you finally approach your hotel, Tommy nearly passes it up. He didn’t realize that the art deco building with valet parking is basically your home until you find something more permanent. Your manager had arranged everything for you and, although you argued in favor of a simple motel, he obviously hadn’t listened to a word you said.

“Holy fuck, dude. This is your hotel?”

You suddenly flush red with embarrassment, feeling very not punk rock in the presence of such an extravagant building. “Uh, yeah. It seems that my manager went a little overboard when booking our place, huh?”

“Are you kidding me? This place is rad as fuck,” Tommy turns to you in a sudden burst of energy with a wild look in his eyes, “Do you think you’d let me come up and see the place?”

Although his question is innocent enough, you can’t ignore the way your stomach backflips at the thought of being alone with Tommy in your bedroom. With the recent upheaval of emotions you’d been experiencing since Tommy catapulted himself back into your life, you know that being with him any longer is bound to be a bad idea. It really was getting late, and part of you is starting to wonder if your feelings are real or just a product of exhaustion.

Still, Tommy’s sparkling blue eyes pull you in and you find yourself nodding your head yes before you can give his question a second thought. When the two of you walk inside, you’re too amused by Tommy’s enraptured gaze to notice the weird stares that the staff and other guests were shooting your way. There’s no doubt that you and Tommy stand out among the marble floors and jewel-encrusted chandeliers. Still, you smile all the way to the elevators, noting how small Tommy appears beneath the vaulted ceilings.

“I can’t believe you get to stay at a place like this,” Tommy says as the two of you step into the elevator. You aren’t sure if you’re seeing things or going crazy from exhaustion, but the sight of Tommy’s bruised eye glistening under the golden fluorescents looks strangely beautiful.

“Pretty crazy, huh?” you reply, knowing that the craziest part of your whole return to L.A. is standing right in front of you.

When the elevator reaches the thirteenth floor, you walk out ahead of Tommy, escorting him down the snaking hallway and to the front door of your room. You pry the door open, your breath hitching slightly as you feel Tommy shuffle in behind you. The room is spacious, with a plush king-sized bed and a floor to ceiling view of the city below.

“Damn dude, I really hope Mötley Crüe can come to places like this someday,” Tommy says, sauntering over to the window. He pushes the curtain back, revealing the city lights glittering in the darkness.

“You will.” Even though Tommy’s bandmates were indefinitely jerks, you believe in Tommy’s talent more than anyone else searching for stardom in this godforsaken city.

“Hey Tommy, I think I still have some bubbly the hotel left me if you wanna crack it open,” you bend over, reaching into the mini fridge to retrieve the full-sized bottle of champagne the hotel manager had left on your bed yesterday. While you were thankful for the welcome gift, you had never been one to drink alone. Tommy just so happens to be the perfect excuse to not let it go to waste.

Weirdly enough, Tommy doesn’t answer you. Standing upright again, you set the bottle on the dresser and decide to find out what’s captured his short attention span this time. Turning around, you nearly slam right into Tommy– not realizing he had been standing so close to you. He catches your arms, gently wrapping his large hands around your wrists to steady your balance.

“Shit, Tommy,” you laugh nervously, “I didn’t see you there–”

Before you can finish your thought, Tommy’s lips are pressed against your own. Instinctively, you kiss him back, feeling as though your body is on autopilot while your ability to think rationally takes the back seat.

You shiver as your lips melt into Tommy’s, his kisses becoming more frantic and desperate. Releasing his hold on your arms, Tommy cups the sides of your face. His tongue grazes your bottom lip, silently requesting permission to cross a line you can never come back from.

Gasping into his touch, you give him the freedom to explore. Slowly, he starts distancing his sloppy kisses from your mouth and places them on your jawline. You take in a sharp breath as he goes to work on your neck, your hands finding themselves nestled firmly in his hair as he nips at your throat.

“Fuck Tommy,” you pant, trying to gain some semblance of clarity, “what are we doing?”

Tommy stops kissing your neck to give you a firm look, his eyes dark with desire. “What I’ve always wanted to do,” he replies.

Your heart leaps at his confession, compelling you to kiss him once again. This time, Tommy’s hands snake up your shirt as he pulls your body against his. You yank your shirt up over your head, feeling as though the room is far too hot for the amount of clothes you’re wearing. Before you can start unfastening the button of your jeans, Tommy shoves you roughly onto the bed. You fall dizzily onto the plush duvet, your skin feeling as though its on fire.

“No, baby,” he growls, “that’s my job.”

Tommy discards his shirt, leaving himself standing bare-chested before you. Your face flushes at the sight of his cock throbbing through the constraint of his leather pants.

Fuck he’s gorgeous.

As you stare up at Tommy you can’t help but wonder how he turned out this way. If someone told you yesterday that you’d be moments away from fucking your childhood best friend, you would’ve laughed right in your face. Now here you are, shirtless and squirming with anticipation on your bed.

As you stare up at Tommy you can’t help but wonder how he turned out this way. If someone told you yesterday that you’d be moments away from fucking your childhood best friend, you would’ve laughed right in their face. Now here you are, shirtless and squirming with anticipation on your bed.

Before you can get lost in your thoughts any longer, Tommy is on top of you. Your mouths crash together in a hot disarray of lips and tongue. Tommy goes back to kissing your neck, sucking and biting the soft skin until it becomes bruised between his teeth. With each love bite, his mouth travels lower. All you can do is gasp with pleasure as he places a wet kiss on your lower abdomen, his hands going to work on pulling off your jeans.

As you lay there in your underwear, Tommy kneels before you at the edge of the bed, pausing to admire the shape of your body as it splays out before him.

“God, baby,” Tommy murmurs, his voice barely louder than a whisper, “you look so delicious spread out for me like this...”

Tommy situates himself between your legs, gripping your thighs tightly. You suck in a sharp breath as Tommy begins peppering your inner thigh with soft kisses, his lips fluttering painfully close to your bikini line. He looks up at you, dark blue eyes sparkling dangerously beneath his eyelashes.

“Can I make you feel good, baby girl? I want you to feel good,” his hot breath ghosts against the wet spot on your panties, and you find yourself nodding vigorously in response.

Tommy just shoots you a mischievous grin, licking a wet stripe up your clothed pussy. You are unable to contain the strangled moan that leaves your lips, fingers clawing aimlessly at the duvet for support. Your underwear is soaking wet, and you’re unsure how much longer you’ll last without any actual contact.

“Use your words, Y/N,” Tommy laps at your heat once again, eliciting another desperate gasp from you, “tell me what you want, baby.”

Crazed by Tommy’s teasing, you finally relent, “Please make me feel good, Tommy. Fuck, I want you–I wanted you the minute I saw you.”

Tommy chuckles darkly, aggressively pulling your panties off of your hips and onto the floor. Without so much as a warning, his tongue is on you; lapping at your hot center hungrily. As he sucks on your clit, you feel a large hand dig into the soft flesh of your thigh, raking downwards and scratching your skin.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck,” you chant, your abdomen tightening with hot pressure. You grip his hair as your hips involuntarily buck into his mouth, legs shaking as he hums with pleasure against your clit.

“You taste so good,” Tommy moans, curling one of his long fingers inside of you.

You clench around him, unable to keep your orgasm from taking you over any longer. A series of moans fall from your lips, your body hot with pins and needles. With your hands firmly twisted in the sheets, you come all over Tommy’s mouth and fingers.

Sitting upright, you blink at Tommy, mind dizzy with pleasure. “Oh my fucking god, Tommy,” you pant, “where did you learn to do that?”

“Lots of practice,” Tommy winks leaning in to kiss you. His lips are soft and loving against yours, causing a shiver to run up your spine. As the kiss becomes more intense, Tommy peels off his leather pants and climbs on top of you, pinning you onto the bed by your wrists.

“I don’t think so,” you growl between kisses, shifting your weight to wrestle for control.

You bite Tommy’s lip hard, catching him off guard just enough to roll him over. Climbing on top of him, you straddle Tommy’s hips firmly and situate yourself on the rock hard bulge in his underwear. Tommy hisses as you apply more pressure, his hands digging into your hip bones. Grinding against him, you pull him into another heated kiss. Tommy’s busted lip had reopened after you’d bitten him, causing a little bit of blood to drip into your mouth.

Deep down, you know you should stop kissing him like this, but something about seeing Tommy all roughed up turns you on in ways you would never have imagined. Judging by Tommy’s aggressive hold on your hips, you can only assume he’s feeling the same way. Without warning, Tommy shoves you aside to pull off his underwear. When his cock springs free, you are surprised to find that it’s even bigger than you expected.

Seeing your eyes widen, Tommy chuckles darkly, “Think you can handle it, honey?” Your heartbeat quickens as you look at Tommy’s flushed fash and tangled hair, a drop of blood trickling lazily down his chin.

“Try me,” you say definiantly, pushing him back down.

You mount him again, only this time there’s no fabric to separate the two of you. Teasingly, you rub your slick folds over the head of his dick, hoping that– maybe –you can make him beg for it. Tommy hisses as you rake your nails against his chest, leaving a trail of little pink lines behind.

“Fuck, baby, you’re such a bad girl,” Tommy gasps, “Wanna–wanna fuck you so bad.”

Hearing Tommy pleas makes you wet all over again, wanting so desperately to fill whatever was empty inside of you with the man under you. Slowly, you sink onto his cock, your inner walls stinging slightly from the stretch. Truthfully, you had never fucked a guy this big, and Tommy was barely fitting inside of you.

Tommy bites his lip, noticing the strain you’re experiencing. “That’s it, baby,” he coos, “you’re doing so fucking good for me.”

Encouraged by Tommy’s praises, you begin to rock back and forth. Tommy’s breathing becomes heavier with every stroke, and, before you know it, he’s guiding your movements with the grip he has on your waist. He feels good, better than any guy you’d ever been with, and you wonder if this is what you had been missing all along.

“You look so good when you fuck me baby,” Tommy babbles, his hips snapping up to meet yours. Tommy sits up, wrapping an arm around your back to pull you flush against his chest. His face is right up against yours as he fucks into you, your breathy moans falling hot against his open mouth.

Tommy’s fingers snake up your back and curl into the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging hard. You cry out from a mix of pain and pleasure, the heat in your abdomen tightening.

“Want me to make you feel good again? Hmm?” Tommy asks, blue eyes fixated firmly on your own. Without giving it a second thought, you nod, rocking your hips into his as sweat trickles in tiny beads down your face.

Suddenly Tommy’s hand firmly grips your throat, applying gentle pressure just beneath your jawline. Your breath catches in your throat as your breathing is restricted, waves of euphoria radiating through your body. Just as your vision begins to go a little spotty, your orgasm rips through you. As you cry out, Tommy’s movements become erratic and sloppy, his pleasure directly feeding on your own.

Tommy’s chanting your name when his orgasm hits, pumping into you while his hands grasp your face lovingly, his eyes never leaving yours. The both of you go limp, breathing and panting hard. Tommy falls back into the duvet, while you remain sprawled out on his chest, lightheaded and thoroughly exhausted.

“Oh...my fucking god,” Tommy heaves, the satisfaction in his voice audible. You can’t help but giggle breathlessly, “Emphasis on the fucking.”

Humming contently, you snuggle into his chest, feeling strangely at peace for someone who just fucked their childhood best friend. Tommy runs his fingers through you hair delicately, the act feeling drastically different from how he had been touching you just moments before. There’s a warmth spreading through your chest that you never knew could be there, and it’s consuming you like a wildfire.

A moment of comfortable silence passes between the two of you. Tommy pets your hair as you trace small circles on his bare chest and, somehow, the exchange feels more intimate than anything else the two of you had experienced together in the past hour.

“Y/N?” Tommy asks, his voice small.

You look up at him to find his expression unreadable. “What is it, Tommy?”

“Can I–can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, you place a warm kiss to his lips. The sensation is soft and innocent. Gently, Tommy cups the side of your face, his thumb grazing your cheek tenderly. You nuzzle his nose as you pull away, eliciting amused smiles from the both of you. Part of you wishes this moment could last forever, but the self-doubt nibbling at your brain makes possibility of Tommy wanting to be with you seem unlikely.

“Why’d you ask if you could kiss me?” you wonder, finding it hard to believe that Tommy would suddenly think you wouldn’t be okay with it.

Tommy’s brow furrows together and he quickly averts his eyes, suddenly becoming fixated at a point on the ceiling. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he looked embarrassed.

“I just–” he starts with a sigh, running a hand through his chestnut waves, “I just don’t want this to be a one time thing, you know? You’re too important.”

Your heart pounds at his confession, pulse rushing noisily through your ears. When Tommy’s lips touched yours for the first time, you assumed that you wouldn’t be more than a one-night fling to him. Still, when you first saw Tommy that night, you swore you had felt something electric passing between the two of you; and now you know that you weren’t crazy after all. This was the first time you’d seen each other in years, but whatever you were experiencing now was real. More importantly, Tommy was experiencing it, too.

“I don’t think I want this to be a one time thing either.”

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ezilyamuzed · 4 years

Text

Ten Years Gone- The Beginning

Description: Ten years ago, your world had changed. Ten years ago, you had met him, leading your life to never be the same again. Time is running out, but is it too late after all these years?

Word Count: 7775

Warnings: Language, Parent’s death, PG teen “cuddle” time.

A/N: This is the prelude of a new series. I was listening to Led Zeppelin's ‘Ten Years Gone’ while watching the early episodes of Supernatural and got some ideas... Enjoy.

Any grammatical mistakes are all my own, because I am human. Remember all comments and feedback are welcomed! If you want a tag in future posts regarding this series or other writings please send an ask! As always thank you for reading! Enjoy!

TEN YEARS GONE MASTERLIST

*Picture and lyrics used are not mine. Led Zeppelin is Amazing.

Changes fill my time, baby, that's alright with me In the midst I think of you, and how it used to be

Your legs were sprawled out along the back seat of your uncle’s ‘70 Chevelle as you hummed along to the guitar rhythm and stared out the window. The trees and scenery were whooshing past in a blink of an eye, but it all looked pretty much the same no matter where you were. The autumn quickly changing the leaves that were now falling to the ground. Trees, trees, dirt, and grass. Hey a rock. Sometimes you turned your sight seeing into a game to see how long you could stare out without blinking before you either got dizzy or your eyes dried out. Your record was to the second chorus of The Steve Miller Band’s “The Joker”.

“We almost there? I gotta piss,” you whined up to the front.

Your uncle Danny let out a laugh as he turned his head to the rear-view mirror to see your turnt up nose.

“We’re about 5 minutes away. You can hold it until then. If not, I’m sure there is a bottle or something back there.”

Although he was not longer looking you still give him an evil glare in response.

“You know it doesn’t work like that Uncle Danny.”

“Well if you’re going to keep talking like a rude little boy instead of the proper lady like I know your momma raised you to be, I’m going to keep treating you like it,” he replied back, turning the radio down as he spoke.

“She tried. It didn’t stick,” you rolled your eyes in a humph.

“If only she could see you now. Hell, 14, starting up high school…”

“Yeah, how many schools will I go to this year? The standard 4 minimum?” you added with sarcasm.

“One, smartass,” you could see him smiling as he looked to you in the rear view mirror. “I’ve worked out a deal with a buddy of mine while I go on a business trip.”

“Ya hunting plants, fruits, vegetables, or minerals this time?” You laughed at your own dumb joke.

“Don’t you worry about that missy,” he replied. “You just keep your head while I’m gone. No getting into trouble.”

“Who ya dropping me off with anyways? They in the business too,” you asked while making air quotes.

“Yeah, but recently he has stepped back a little. Actually, he’s been watching two teenage boys around your age while their dad also goes out on the road,” he replied before looking back to you again in the mirror. “And I don’t want to hear about you getting into no trouble with those or any other boys. Ya hear me?”

“Ew, no,” you face twisting in disgust.

“Yeah, you say that now. Soon enough though, you’ll be just like the rest of us and find that special someone that turns ya all stupid enough to want to spend the rest of your life with em.”

You rolled your eyes again as you slumped back further into the seat, keeping you eyes on the road signs as the passed by. Sioux Falls, North Dakota 10 miles ahead. Ten more miles until you can finally stretch out properly. Ten more miles until you might get to sleep in real bed, in a real house, something you hadn’t done for almost three years.

It had been an unusually warm fall that year. With your birthday approaching, your mom and dad were busy setting up everything for your party. Uncle Danny had taken you out to pick out whatever gift you wanted- a butterfly knife with dusty rose handles. He of course argued with you, but with his vast collection of knives that you had always admired, he agreed as long as it stayed a secret between the two of you. He even had an interesting symbol etched into the blade. It was a little star that looked like flames were coming out of every corner. He said it was extra protection, whatever that had meant. After grabbing ice cream he had driven you home, only too see the door wide open with no answer. He told you to stay in the car, but of course after a few minutes you stopped listening. It was your home. Why would you have to wait outside? That’s when you saw what he wanted to protect you from. Both of your parents, ripped to shreds by what looked like an animal. There was no animal in sight though. You don’t even remember exactly what else happened that day. There were sirens and people in uniforms everywhere. Neighbors of course being nosy and gawking at the scene. What you remembered was your Uncle Danny holding you close and telling you that everything would be okay. And you believed him.

Up until now, he had tried his best to juggle everything- his job and raising you were not easy tasks. You got into fights in school quite a bit, but with the fact that you were leaving it in a week or so to go to another, who really cared? There were nights when you were all alone, waiting patiently for him to return, always wondering in that back of your mind if this was the time you’d lose him too. He always came back though, a little beaten a bruised perhaps, but always with a smile.

Eventually he finally told you where he was going during all of his trips. Fighting ghosts and other monsters sounded ridiculous to you, but eventually you realized he wasn’t kidding. He was a hunter- he saved people. And that made him that so much cooler. Over the summer he had started teaching you how to shoot and what things to look for. You had already became really good with a knife, learning little tricks and that with the one he had bought you. He had an old notebook that was filled with drawings and descriptions that you tried to memorize, the ink wearing away with each use. You asked if you could join and help on a case, but he would always tell you that it was no place for a kid to be which was complete bullshit. You could handle yourself. You weren’t scared. But with all your protests, he would not budge, thus bringing you to here.

“About 5 more minutes until we’re at Bobby’s,” he stated while turning left down the road. “Hold on to your bladder just a little longer.”

You re-positioned yourself to stare out the window to see if anything was at least interesting around this guy’s house. Nope. Trees, fields, and a couple houses every once in a while. Great - middle of fucking nowhere U.S.A. You caught the sight of what looked like the after effects of a tornado. Cars and junk everywhere with a little house in the back.

“Welcome to Singer Salvage yard.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” you moaned.

“Hey, language.”

“Sorry,” you muttered before speaking up again. “But seriously, you are LITERALLY leaving me in a garbage dump. What the hell am I supposed to do here? Get tetanus?”

“No, you’re going to get an education and have a normal childhood,” his voice sounded angry. “Now I know it’s not pretty, but Bobby is a good friend. He will watch out for you and make sure you have everything you need.”

“I’m going to need a bath,” you mumbled under your breath.

When the car finally came to a complete stop and the dust from the ground settled you were able to get a better view of the place. It was alright, probably looked better on the inside. Well, at least you hoped. Still a shithole. There was another chevelle parked alongside it that was just like your uncles, but more on the run down side. Next to it, a sleek black Impala. That was probably Bobby’s car. Hunters always have a thing for muscle cars. Sturdy, reliable, fast, or “American made” as your uncle liked to state. Whatever the reason, they were nice to look at.

Two men walked out of the house with solemn looks on their faces with two teenage boys trailing behind. You followed your uncle's lead and climbed out of the car to the fresh air.

“Danny, it’s been a long time,” the dark haired man with a gruff voice stated while extending his hand for a shake.

“ Way too long Johnny,” he replied while shaking his hand before moving to the bearded guy with a baseball cap. “Bobby, thanks for doing this.”

“It’s no trouble at all. There’s already two hellions, what’s another?” He chuckled as he looked over at you staring down to the ground, pushing your chucks into the dirt. “You must be Y/N.”

“Yes sir,” you replied with a tight lipped smile.

“This is my boy Dean, he’s just a little older than you and my boy Sam who is just a bit younger,” John stated, while guiding the boys closer with his arm, although they clearly could care less.

“Dean, could you and Sam help Y/N inside?” Danny spoke up. “I know I’ve been making her wait to use the restroom, so I’m sure she’ll be grateful to know where it is.”

Dean nodded his head and grabbed at your two bags in the backseat before walking past you to go inside. Sam following. You rolled your eyes to your uncle and trailed behind to your new life- at least for now.

You were wrong about it possibly being better on the inside. Nope, it was a shithole too that was covered with books and empty liquor bottles. The decor covered by a pound of dust and cobwebs resembled something like a real house, something someone used to care about.

“Toilets over there,” Dean nodded down the hall while tossing your bags down before he flopped himself on the couch.

“Thanks,” you mumbled as you walked down the hall.

Surprisingly the toilet was at least semi clean, although there was enough hair trimmings in the sink to resemble a small animal.

After finishing in the bathroom you walked out to the living room area. Dean was sprawled out on the couch with a comic book and Sam was sitting on the floor next to him with an old worn down book. Out of place and unwelcomed were the nice ways of saying how you felt at that moment. After grabbing your book bag, you sat down at the kitchen table all alone, not knowing what else to do, but to stare at the walls.

“You boys helped Y/N find her way,” you heard your uncle's voice say as he entered the room.

Dean nodded as he turned the page on his book. Sam looked back at him, following his queue. Your uncle approached you, sitting himself down at the seat next to yours.

“See, it’s not that bad, right kiddo?”

Even though your head was down, you looked up to him through your lashes, rolling your eyes just a little towards the two boys.

“You’ll be fine,” he smiled. “Just give it a little bit and I’m sure you will all be getting along just fine when I come back.”.

“How long?” You asked although you could guess the answer already.

“Not sure kiddo,” he grabbed your hand and held it gently. “But I’m going to call every Sunday night after dinner time to check in on you. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded before wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. “Just come back to me okay Uncle Danny?”

“You be good Y/N;” he said as he returned your hug back before standing up again. “I’ll see you soon kiddo.”

He never promised that he would come back. It was a promise that he couldn’t make. He knew it and you knew. He always said that he would never make a promise to you that he couldn’t keep. That didn’t make it hurt any less.

You watched as he shook Bobby’s hand by the front door, turning to give you a loving smile before leaving out the door to go to the next job that awaited him.

“So, how about you boys actually show Y/N where her room is.” Bobby stated firmly, causing Dean to roll his eyes as he slapped the comic book shut. “You two know how it goes around here. We’re not savages. Now get going.”

“Yes sir,” the two of them mumbled as they got up from their spots.

Both boys each grabbed one of your bags, still not saying anything really directly to you as they walked up the stairs. Bobby was standing with his arms crossed watching them closely as you followed behind them.

“This one is where Bobby sleeps,” Sam informed you while pointing to a door. Dean and I are in this one, and you’re the last one down the hall.”

“Yeah, lucky you,” Dean scoffed. “You get your own room.”

“Lucky me,” you stated back with sarcasm. “I get to live here with you.”

Dean turned his head to you with a glare before he opened the door and switched on the light. It was a simple room, surprisingly organized and clean. It was almost like someone had cleaned it recently.

“This was Dean’s room,” Sam informed you, making you feel a little guilty about displacing him. It wasn’t like this was your choice though.

Dean tossed the bag he was carrying down onto the bed with a thud. Sam chose to use the gentler approach of setting the bag he was carrying on a chair in the corner.

“So what’s your story,” Dean asked as he sat down on the corner of the bed.

You shrugged, as you moved through the room, checking out the view from the window.

“You travel with your uncle,” Dean stated. “So where’s your parents?”

You turned and looked back to him silently, not really wanting to talk about the tragic backstory of your life.

“Okay, don't talk to us then,” Dean rolled his eyes as he stood up.

“Dead.”

He paused in his steps and turned to look at you, mouth agape. You returned to look out the window again before continuing, hoping you would see your uncles car any moment again to take you with him.

“It’s just me and Danny;” you continued as you looked over to them. “So what’s your story?”

“Mom’s been gone a long time and dad is in the business,” he stated with some sort of pride. “The family business.”

“Doesn’t a family business typically mean that more than one member of your family is doing it?” You snarked back.

“I’ve gone out on hunts before,” he stated in defense. “I’ve seen a ghost before.”

“Good for you,” you rolled your eyes again. “So why did he leave the two of you here then.”

“Dean got in some trouble on his last hunt,” Sam spoke up.

“What, did you act like an ass to the monster too?” You smirked to Dean.

“That’s a long story,” he said as he started rubbing the back of his neck. “So how long are you here for?”

“Who knows?” You responded. “Hopefully just a few days, maybe weeks.”

“And you’re like what 13?”

“Fourteen,” you corrected him. “I’ll be fifteen-.”

You stopped yourself short, not wanting to discuss or even think about the fact that you had a birth date like everyone else. It was a day you’d rather forget. You finished your sentence with the word “soon” popping off your lips.

“Are you going to be going to the high school with Dean then?” Sam asked.

“I guess so,” you shrugged. “So What is there to do around here anyways?”

“Read,” Sam replied with innocence, Dean rolling his eyes in response.

“There ain’t much to do, but there’s always something you can find to at least pass the time.”

“Like what?” You asked.

Dean laughed while nodding outside.

“Well, you like cars?” He asked as you gave him a side eyed glance. “We got tons of em out there.”

“What do you do? Try to fix em up or something?”

Dean shrugged as you all heard Bobby yelling up the stairs to start getting ready for dinner.

“Don’t keep him waiting,” Sam said as he walked out the door.

“Is Bobby strict?” You asked Dean who was still standing there, waiting for you to go downstairs as well.

“He’s alright, can be strict at times,” he replied back. “He does his best to make sure that we have some sort of normal in our lives.”

“What’s normal?” You rolled your eyes. “Being dropped off with some strange dude in a shit hole.”

“Give it time,” Dean laughed. “It’s not that bad. It’s better than staying in a crumby motel every night alone. ”

You paused your steps to the door as you heard those words leaving his lips. Motel and alone. Well that summed up the last three years of your life. Guess you did have more in common with these two boys besides being dumped off. If they could handle it, maybe it wasn’t going to be that bad after all.

The next couple weeks weren’t that bad. You had started high school with Dean showing you around. The fact that he became somewhat protective of you was probably why you didn’t seem to have any trouble with the other kids. The boys seemed to be scared of him, and the girls seemed to be in love with him. Each Sunday as promised your uncle would call to check in, consistently avoiding the topic of when he would be coming back. It was alright though. You had become so busy with your school work and hanging out with the boys that you didn’t mind it so much. Bobby’s house was slowly becoming your home.

“So to find the slope, you take the difference from the two Y points and divide by the two corresponding X points,” you stated to Dean as the two of you sat at the kitchen table.

“Why do I even care?” He grumbled.

“Well, slopes give you an idea of the rate of acceleration. Like in a car,” you stated. “Say you know that if you start at the end of the driveway and move to the other end in 60 seconds, you can determine how fast you were going.”

“Or I could just look at the speedometer,” he grinned.

“Smartass,” you laughed as you shoved his arm. “Okay, so you see a Rugalu, and they move from point A to point B in so many seconds. How fast do you have to move your ass to get the hell out of there?”

“Who says I wouldn’t stay to fight?”

You rolled your eyes to him again. Clearly at this point he was just being a smartass.

“Fine, you don’t run away. So how much faster do you have to be to gank him then Winchester?” You asked with a cocky smile.

“Just got to be faster,” he replied. “Who cares how fast?”

“Well, let me give you a little insight into physics and biology. You expel more than enough energy for a task, you deplete your energy storage. Making it easy for the other Rugulu to take you down.”

“Okay, point taken,” he laughed. “Math is important. So how did you become so smart in this shit anyways?”

“My dad was a science professor,” you shrugged, before realizing that you had mentioned him for probably the first time ever to Dean besides the fact that he was dead.

“And your mom?” Dean prodded a little further.

“History professor,” you replied while taking in a deep breath. “Guess it just rubbed off on me. Anyways, do you get it now?”

“Oh, I got it about a minute after you decided to try and help me,” he smiled. “I just wanted to see how far I could get you frustrated before you gave up.”

You smacked him lightly on his arm as he laughed in response.

“You’re a dick,” you laughed. “Why did you want to see me get frustrated?”

“Because I think it’s awesome that even when you don’t know how to help someone, it gets to you so much that you don’t quit,” he smiled. “That and when you realize that you did in fact help someone, your eyes kind of light up a little. You’re a good person Y/N.”

The way that Dean was looking at you as he spoke was so genuine; no one besides family had ever done that before. It made you feel something at that moment. What it was, you weren’t sure. You bit your lip nervously as he leaned over, pulling his text book back over to him.

“So question 4, find the y-intercept,” he read from the pages.

“You helping Dean with homework there Y/N?” Bobby stated as he entered the room with Sam, both carrying bags of groceries that could probably feed a small army. Or in this case, the Winchester boys for a weekend.

“Just making sure he gets it,” you smiled back while standing up to help them put the groceries away.

Peering into the bags, there was an item that you had told Bobby in secret that you needed that you didn’t see. He had either forgotten, or was too embarrassed to pick it up.

“Um, Bobby,” you muttered. “Ya forgot something.”

He looked at you with furrowed brows until it dawned on him. He mumbled ‘crap’ under his breath before exhaling loudly.

“I suppose you need ‘em soon,” he sighed, you nodding in response. He looked over at Dean finishing the last question of his homework and closing the book. “Dean, take Y/N and my car to the little corner store. Be back in twenty for dinner.”

Dean squinted his eyes in confusion as he grabbed the keys from Bobby. You rolling your own eyes that now Dean was going to be very well aware of the gross part about being a girl: your period.

You trailed behind Dean after Bobby handed you some cash, muttering an apology as you walked away. In less than 3 minutes, with Dean obviously ignoring anything that resembled a speed limit sign you were at the store.

“So what did you need? Make-up, hair stuff?,” he inquired as he followed you in, making you give him a funny look. “Didn’t know if all of the sudden you were trying to look like those other girls in the school.”

“I’d rather live forever in my comfy jeans and t-shirts then to ever be like them,” you snarked back, as you approached the feminine section.

Dean’s eyes followed where yours went, staring at the boxes of tampons with little flowers printed on them. It was not something he knew a lot about, but he knew enough. He reached over and grabbed a box, staring at the packaging.

“I don’t know why they try to make it all fancy,” he pondered out loud. “I mean, a girl can bleed for a few days and still kick your ass. They should have something more fierce on the box. Like a warrior princess.”

You shook your head with a laugh, catching on that Dean was trying to make this would be awkward situation into a joke.

“My dad used to say that they used these for bullet holes,” he stated while grabbing two more boxes. “We should probably stock up knowing our luck. Who knows, maybe I’ll need some.”

Your laughter died down as you followed Dean to the register when you saw a group of guys looking and nodding over to the two of you with smirks.

“Looks like Winchester isn’t getting laid this week,” the one stated out loud. “Unless he’s into walking the red carpet.”

Johsua Adams. A notorious prick that thought he was God’s gift to women. First day at school and he had already tried, and failed, to have you,the new girl cozy, up behind the bleachers with him. Dean just sat the products down on the counter, clenching his jaw as he turned to him with a grin.

“No, that’s what your girlfriend is for.”

Josh’s smile faded quickly, his face hardened now approaching Dean rapidly with you standing next to him. You felt Dean’s arm push you back by your waist, surprising you for a second until you saw what happened next. Josh yelled a ‘fuck you’ as he swung his fist towards Dean’s face, Dean almost effortlessly caught him by the wrist and twisted his arm behind his back.

“Now you’re going apologize for your remarks and you're going to go back to your little circle jerk,” he seethed, holding him steady as he tried to break free.

Josh’s friends all moved from their spot, clearly pissed off that their friend was being hurt. Dean shook his head stating ‘uh huh’ as he twisted Josh's arm more to make him yell out.

“Now I’m going to let you go,” Dean instructed the Josh in his ear, loud enough for everyone to hear. “And you all are going to leave me and my friend alone, or next time I won’t be so nice.”

Josh nodded his head, giving Dean the queue that he was going to comply. His friends all stared the two of you down hard with anger as they walked out of the store. You had almost forgotten the fact that you were in a store until you heard the onlooking cashier behind you.

“Your boyfriend there is a good guy,” she stated. “Those boys are nothing but trouble. It was about time someone showed them their place.”

You didn’t argue what she had called him: your boyfriend. Definitely not. Probably not ever. But she was right, he was a good guy. You handed her the money as you lead the way out the door to Bobby’s car. The two of you opening the doors and setting yourself in.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” You asked with enthusiasm, the whole act was something you had only seen in the movies.

“My dad,” Dean replied. “And Bobby a little. Why?”

“Teach me,” you said as your turned your body to him with intrigue in your eyes.

“What?” Dean exhaled audibly. “Why?”

“You really have to ask?,” you sounding surprised. “Come on Dean! There are tons of assholes out there like that, plus knowing how to take care of myself would definitely help with, you know...those other things that we aren’t supposed to talk about.”

“There is no way in hell I’m teaching you any of that,” he looked at you directly with seriousness on his face. “You haven’t had to know what it’s like to fight for your life; you’re lucky and blessed. And I will be dammed if I ever let you get mixed up in that shit.”

“It’s not like I’m not already mixed up in it Dean! Something supernatural killed my parents. Hell, I’m being raised by hunters! Do you really think I will ever just get on with my life and not have that following me?”

Dean growled lowly, as he shook his head.

“Fine,” he stated as he turned the key in the ignition to bring the engine to life. “But this is between us. If Bobby knew, he’d kill me.”

“I promise.”

“And leave Sam out of it too. That kid is going to be a doctor or lawyer someday.”

“No problem,” you agreed. “Thanks Dean, for you know, what happened in there.”

“ Anytime,” he said as he pulled out of the spot and drove down the road. “He had it coming to him anyway.”

“And I know why you’re scared to teach me how to fight Dean.”

He glanced over at you with confusion, making you smirk in return.

“Because you know I’ll be able to kick your ass,” you replied with snark.

“Oh darlin,” he shook his head with a laugh. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

The next week, Dean and you had figured out a routine on when he was able to teach you. Most of the time it was right after dinner when Sam would be caught up in a book and Bobby would pass out drunk at his desk.

The garage light was enough for you to see what you were doing, and far enough away from the house so they couldn’t hear you.

“Okay, so again,” Dean stated, making you follow his directions in the sequence as he rattled them off. “Left punch, right punch, left uppercut, and a right hook.”

You did as you were told, until he stated to go faster, and then faster again. Dean shook his head in disapproval as he watched.

“You’re locking your arms too much,” he said as he gripped your right elbow. “You’re going to break something of yours, not theirs.”

His hands moved to reposition your arm, tickling a little as he touched your skin; making you flinch back with a giggle.

“Ticklish huh?” Dean smirked as his eyes grew wide.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you laughed, as you noticed the devilish look in his eyes.

He reached over as you tried to move out of the way, and furiously tickled you all over in an instant. Your laughter echoed through the room as you tried to get away, but he was not stopping.

“Stop Dean! Stop,” you gasped out in between your laughter, tears now rolling down you eyes. “I’m going to piss myself!”

He continued with his own laughter as you twisted yourself and started to fumble backwards; grabbing onto his arms to bring him down as well as your back hit the ground.

“Ow,” you laughed again, Dean propping himself up on his hands next to your sides, staring down with a grin. “See what you did?”

“Rule number one,” he smiled. “Know your opponents weak spots.”

“Uh huh, and where’s yours?” You smirked as you started to tickle his rib cage.

Dean moved swiftly and pinned your hands down on the ground with a smirk. Your breath caught in the moment, with your chest rising and falling deeply to catch it. He stared down at you as you looked up to him. The feeling that arose was different, and by the looks on his face he was feeling it as well. He paused himself for a moment, before leaning down and pressing his lips onto yours gently. An act that surprised you at first, but it felt right. Your first kiss. Your first real kiss was happening with Dean on a dirty garage floor, but you didn’t care. You found yourself returning it, moving your lips along with his, opening them just a little as you felt his tongue glide across them. You didn’t really know what to do. It’s not like this was really covered in health class, but you glided your tongue with his, moving them together in sync. It felt smooth, sending a warm feeling down your body as you felt his hand now touching your face, bringing you closer and deeper into his.

“Whoa,” you heard Sam gasp aloud, causing you to both break away and look over at him in panic.

“What the hell Sam!” Dean yelled.

“So that’s what you two are doing,” Sam smiled. “You two are making out every night!”

“Get out of here Sam before I kick your ass!” Dean yelled again.

“Whatever,” Sam rolled his eyes. “Just don’t let Bobby, dad, or her uncle catch you. They just called.” They’re coming back.”

“He’s coming back?” You sat yourself up, knocking Dean back a little in your action. “When?”

“They said they’d be here after school tomorrow,” Sam answered. “So that probably means we will be moving on too.”

Dean sighed out loud and nodded as he stood up, shaking the dirt off of him before extending his hand to you to help you up. As you got up you felt the mixed feelings of dread and excitement. You were going to see your uncle again, but at the same time you were now probably going to lose Dean. You stared down to the ground as you followed the boys back into the house. Dean instructing Sam to keep his mouth shut about what he had seen. You went upstairs to your room, trying to ignore Dean’s glances as you shut the door and flopped down on the bed. The feeling of his lips still lingered on yours as you gentled touched them with your fingers. What was going to happen next?

You awoke from your deep sleep as you heard the sound of your door opening. Glancing at the clock it was just a little after midnight. You sat up and turned to see Dean walking in with a solemn look on his face.

“Hey, didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologized.

“Yes you did,” you smiled in the dark room, the only light peaking through the curtains from the moon outside.

“I just thought, since tomorrow we might be parting ways, maybe we should talk about what happened?” He nervously replied.

You nodded as he sat down on the edge of your bed, you sitting up straighter and pulling the covers up to your chest. You could see the hesitation in his face, unsure of what exactly to say. The silence was lingering, only growing with anticipation of what he was about to say fiercely within you.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

You were confused for a moment, but you laid your hand on top of his in reassurance.

“Hey, it’s alright,” you replied softly. “It was nice. Unexpected of course, but I don’t regret it.”

“I’ve just, I don’t know,” he paused again. “I just was trying to keep you away from knowing how I felt about you.”

“How do you feel about me?”

“I like you Y/N,” he confessed as he looked at you. “I mean, it's hard not to. You’re someone who genuinely cares about people, and I didn’t want you to get hurt when I had to leave again.”

“What makes you so sure that you will have to leave?” you asked. “I mean, maybe they’ll let us stay here for a little longer.”

“Doubt it,” he sighed. “You don’t know my dad. He won’t care. The only thing that matters to him is taking care of Sam and finding what killed my mom.”

“But what about you Dean? I’m sure he cares about you.”

Dean shook his head, you catching the sight of a lingering tear fall down his face.

“I was happy once before, not too long ago. I had a semi normal life away from them with someone I cared about, but he didn’t care and I couldn’t leave Sammy.”

“Dean,” you found yourself reaching for his face to look at you. You searched in his face to find whatever guilt he was holding back. “Tell me what happened.”

He sighed again as you dropped your hand down. His eyes searching for an easy way to tell you, possibly scared at your reaction.

“You know how Sam told you I had screwed up on a hunt? Well that isn’t true. I got myself in trouble and found myself at a boy’s reforming home. I got to go to school, do normal teenage things, and I had met someone there that I think I might have loved.”

You just found yourself nodding, although the last part hurt just a little, but you could tell it was still something he was still hurting from.

“Anyways, my dad showed up after months even though he knew where I was the whole time and made me come back. He was angry and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Then of course I thought of Sam. I’ve been protecting that kid my whole life. I couldn’t walk away from him.”

“I understand,” you whispered. “But Dean, you do know that you can be happy again. No one knows what tomorrow will bring.”

“How is it that you always know the right thing to say?” he chuckled softly.

“Because I’m awesome,” you smirked back with a soft laugh.

“Yeah, well I’m going to get back to my room before Sammy realizes that I’ve left,” he said as he started to get up, but you grabbed his hand to stop him.

“If this is really possibly the last night I get to see you, I don’t want you to go,” you confessed as you let your grip fall. “I don’t know exactly whatever it was that I felt earlier, but I don’t want to give it up yet.”

Dean looked deeply into your eyes as he moved to crawl under the covers with your assistance of pushing them back to allow him access. He laid his head down on the pillow next to you, gazing at you, moving the hair out of your face as you mirrored him. You nuzzled your face into his hand as he cupped your cheek. He was hesitant, but you moved your face closer to his. Biting your lip a little before you leaned in and felt his soft, full lips on yours once again. He followed your lead and before you knew it, you felt the same warmth as you did before now hitting harder as your lips moved together by the light of the moon. It was a feeling you never wanted to let go of as you pushed your lips on his harder. His hands now resting on you, one holding your head steady, the other caressing your hip. It tickled a little, the way his hand touched your skin, making you moan just a little, wanting more. His lips moved from yours, trailing along your skin and down to your neck as his hand moved from your hip to your heaving chest. Through your clothes you could feel him grasping your breast gently, not wanting to be rough. You didn’t know exactly what had pushed you in the moment, but you pulled away from him and lifted off your shirt to leave your chest expose to him. You wanted to feel his skin against yours as he watched you with wonderment in his eyes before crashing his lips against yours once more. His hands were now all over you, feeling every inch of you as you continued. His lips moving to discover new spots on your body and the pleasure-filled reactions they ensued from you. It could have been only minutes that it continued, but it felt like forever until the kisses and touches started to slow down. Dean looked into your eyes, as he pulled away with a deep breath.

“I think I love you Y/N,” he confessed. “And I don’t want us to do anything that neither of us are ready for just because we may never see each other again.”

“I think I might love you too Dean,” you smiled back. “And I agree with the one part, but I know this; we will see each other again. When we’re both ready, perhaps a bit older, things will be different.”

“You always know just the right thing to say,” he smiled again as he pulled you into his arms to lay your head on his chest.

“Goodnight Dean,” you yawned as you nuzzled into him.

Dean placed a kiss on top of your head, not allowing himself to fall asleep right away. He wanted to hold on to this feeling just a little longer as well because tomorrow, he knew it was all going to change.

“Jesus fucking christ,” you heard Bobby yell out loud, snapping you awake in an instant.

Dean sprung himself up from the bed, leaving you to cover yourself up with the blanket. A look of fear and panic in his eyes.

“What the hell is going on here?” Bobby demanded.

Dean held out his hand to try and calm him down, but it was not working.

“Bobby, it isn’t what it looks like,” Dean pleaded. “We didn’t do anything. We were just talking and I fell asleep.”

“Her shirt was off, and you just fell asleep?” Bobby looked at Dean with disappointment. “Do I look like an idjit to you? Now the two of you get dressed, in your own rooms. You have school and then your dad and your uncle will be here after.”

“You’re not going to tell them are you?” you asked in a panic.

Bobby glared at the fear in Dean’s and your eyes as you awaited his answer.

“I’m supposed to be watching the two of you, and Dean you know better,” he glared at him hard. “I for sure ain’t saying shit to them. But you listen to me, this stops now or so help me I will kick both of your asses into next Tuesday.”

“Yes sir,” you both nodded in reply, feeling a little sense of relief.

“Now get dressed,” Bobby stated as he walked out the door.

You took in a deep breath and exhaled out as you turned to Dean who was almost out the door.

“Dean?”

“You heard him, get dressed,” Dean said gruffly before walking out, shutting the door behind him.

Dean hadn’t said anything else to you as you silently ate your breakfast and on your way to school. He was completely ignoring you now, even when you tried to speak, he chose to go the other way or say something to someone else. How he was acting was hurt, but you tried to just let it go, knowing he probably was just protecting himself and you from what awaited when you walked through the door after school.

You saw your uncle and John sitting there waiting with Bobby. None of their faces really looked happy.

“Dad-“ you heard Sam say as he walked in behind you.

“Time to pack your bags boys,” he instructed. “We’re moving on.”

“Yes sir,” you heard Dean state as he started for the stairs.

“Where are you going?” You asked out loud, making them all look at you in disbelief that you would even question what was happening.

“Say goodbye to Sam and Dean, Y/N,” Danny stated as he stood up and gave you a small hug. “It’ll be awhile before you see them again.”

“This is bullshit,” you exclaimed. “Why do any of them, any of us have to go anywhere? What to live in the back of a car or a crappy motel, not knowing if any of you will ever come back?”

“Danny, settle down that girl there,” John advised.

“No, fuck you, ya prick,” you spat out, causing his eyes to widen in surprise. “They’re happy here, we all are. Bobby may not be our family, but he’s been here. He is at least trying to give us a normal life. Why can’t you just leave us alone?”

You felt guilty after hearing your words leave your mouth, as you looked up to your uncle. He had tried to be there, he just couldn’t. You now realized why he had brought you here in the first place. He knew he couldn’t do everything you needed. He was really trying to give you the life you deserved.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you cried to your uncle before you ran out the door.

You plopped yourself down on the ground, tears flowing down your face. You heard the sound of gravel moving under someone’s steps, but you didn’t flinch.

“That was some speech you gave in there,” John’s rough voice stated as he sat himself down next to you. “I can see you’ve really become attached to my boys and this place.”

You just nodded your head, feeling anger and resentment towards the man next to you.

“Me too,” he confessed. “That’s why they’re coming with me.”

You looked at him baffled, not understanding why he was even talking to you after what you just said.

“Your uncle is a strong man. One of the best guys I’ve ever known. He is doing right by you in letting you stay. I’m not as strong,” he sighed. “I need them around. I look at them and on my weakest days I can see my Mary in their faces. It’s what keeps me going as I try to figure out what happened to her.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I feel like everything has been sugar coated for you for probably way too long,” he replied. “What happened to her, what happened to your parents, well someone has to stop it.”

“My parents…”

“We’re not sure if it’s the same thing, but we sure as hell won’t stop until we find it and kill it,” he answered back. “I know it’s a tough life for all of you kids, but you’re getting older now. You should know. Dean, he has been in this for so long, he knows what is expected. Sam, well although I’d like to keep him out of it, this has been his whole life. This is just what happens. You say your goodbyes and move on.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“You will,” he smiled.

You both heard the door of the house swing open and shut, Dean walking out with a green duffel bag with Sam behind him. He paused as he looked at you both, unsure of what was happening. John looked over at you and Dean staring at each other, as Dean put his head down and helped Sam into the car.

“They’ll be alright Y/N,” John stated, making you turn your head to him. “And so will you.”

He got up from his spot and brushed the dirt off of him as he walked towards his sleek black car.

“You boys all set?” He asked.

Dean nodded as he stood there with the car door open, looking at you with sadness in his eyes. John turned to see you doing the same as he opened up the drivers door.

“Let’s get a move on it,” he said as he sat himself inside.

Dean looked down again, before looking back to you. You mouthed the word ‘goodbye’ as he nodded and got inside the car. The trail of dust they had left behind took minutes to disappear, but as it went down slowly and was gone, you knew they were now as well.

John’s words with everything that had happened replayed in your head. ‘You will’ he said, and at that moment, you hadn’t realized or known just how true that really was.

Tags: (Let me know if you don’t want added!) @snffbeebee @waywardnerd67 @waywardbaby @dean-winchesters-bacon @jaylarkson @ladywinchester1967 @wildefire @i-hear-crazy-calling-my-name @hobby27 @iamabeautifulperson18 @19agbrown @sonotalice @drakelover78 @aloneanddesperate @pisces-cutie @biawol @jamielea81 @fallininjapan @justkending

#supernatural #supernatural series #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #ten years gone #ezilyamuzed #dean winchester #john winchester #bobby singer #dean x reader

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