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stanknotstark · 4 years ago

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Odinson M.D. (Loki x reader) Pt. 1

I’m excited for this series honestly. I’m doing a lot of research so I write this medically correct tho, if yall see anything wrong don’t be afraid to tell me ^^

Summary: Y’all wanted a House AU so here it is. Loki is a doctor who keeps most people at bay with his sharp wit and sarcasm. He doesn’t understand the need for romantic ploys and casual human discussion. He thrives in the hospital, trying to figure out the unknown, even if his methods turn a bit morally ambiguous at times. That’s why he has Thor and Frigga to keep him in line although he would argue he has no need for it. You just happen to be a doctor on tenure under Loki’s tutelage along with Steve Rogers and Peter Parker. Can you convince the jaded doctor you’re just what he needs to keep him on his toes?

Loki feels the, what had started as pin pricks now, full blown boredom eating away at his overactive mind. He folds sticky notes, from his rolling chair, into small balls and flicks them over to his brother, Thor, who stands fiddling with a broken, plastic Santa sitting on the desk they hang around. Thor proudly wears his white lab coat on top of a nice plaid button down and brown, pressed slacks. Loki prefers to stick to his more casual clothes, if not a bit fashionable for casual, for a doctor. He wears a black cashmere sweater with gray, pressed slacks, a nice pair of oxfords to finish his style. It’s enough to keep him warm during the winter season.

Christmas, such a mainstream holiday. Loki abhors this season what with all the festive cheer and decorations that litter NYC. You can’t walk two feet without being guilted into giving money to the people who stand on corners with bells for the Salvation Army. You can’t buy something nice without a cashier smiling at you, as if all knowing, and asking who you’re giving this gift to with cheerfulness in their high pitched voices. What he especially hates is that Odin expects him to show up to the family dinner every Christmas, seeing as Thor has a wife and has to spend half his time with her family. Loki is the black sheep that’s expected to pick up where his brother has neglected. All in all, Loki would demolish this one holiday from existence if he had the even the slightest chance.

The only good thing about being a doctor was that meant he could get away from most of the holiday by working through it. He couldn’t always escape the dinners seeing as his mother, Frigga, was of administration and Dean of Medicine on his floor. Not only did that hinder him but his father owned the hospital, so he was at a disadvantage, if only by a bit.

“We are condemned to useless labor.” Loki sighs out, his fingers playing with another yellow sticky note, crushing it into a ball.

“Fourth circle of hell,” Thor replies with a roll of his eyes as a paper ball launches towards him, hitting him in the cheek before falling to the ground. “Charting goes a lot faster when you eliminate all classic poetry, brother.” Thor says lightly. A suggestive twitch of his lips all Thor gives to a bored Loki.

Loki takes time from making paper balls to look over at the pile of charts next to him, sitting on the clinic’s lobby desk, waiting for his attention. He’s sure if the charts came to life they would resemble a dog, desperate for attention, wagging its tail with excitement when he finally looks at it. “Writing down what we already know to be read by nobody,” Loki brings his attention back to making another paper ball, completely ignoring the fact that Thor had rolled his eyes so hard he probably has a headache. “Pretty sure Dante would qualify that as useless,” Loki says lightly, a frown on his lips.

“You’re two weeks behind on your charting!” Thor says with exasperation, stopping his fiddling with the Santa to look at Loki as if he had offended Thor personally.

Loki flicks another ball at Thor, however he misses his target and, it sails past Thor, hits Frigga on the chest whom had just walked into the clinic. She watches the paper fall to the ground, giving Loki a look of disappointment. The man gives his mother an innocent smile from his seat. “Oops! I missed.”

“Are you eight years old?” The poised woman asks with a squint in her eyes as she walks over to the side of the desk Loki and Thor reside at. She picks up one of Loki’s charts and reads it with flickering eyes.

“Could an eight year old do this?” Loki asks, catching Frigga’s eyes, and sticks his tongue out at his mother who rolls her eyes. What is it about Loki that causes everyone to roll their eyes? Something he’ll never get the answer to, not because he can’t but because he doesn’t care enough to find the answer when it’s so painfully obvious.

Loki’s mother lifts Loki’s chart, she had picked up, a little higher as if trying to garner Loki’s attention, after she had finished reading through it, and looks at him with frustration. “You have a patient in exam one, Loki.”

Loki settles further into the rolling chair, throwing the pad of sticky notes on the desk, bringing his hands together over his stomach and lacing his fingers. Loki embodies the epitome of comfort and relaxation. He shrugs. “Yes but see I’m off at twelve and it’s already five off...” He shakes his head minutely with a look that says ‘Not much I can do’. He’s rather hoping his mother will let him off the hook this one time. He knows she has a soft spot for him and takes full advantage of that. Thor remains quiet on the matter, playing with the plastic Santa that’s supposed to sing when you press its button.

“She’s been waiting for you since eleven.” Frigga says with finality. Setting his chart down, Loki swears he could hear a gravel slamming down, and then she leaves but not without a pointed look at Loki. This meant Loki isn’t getting away this time. He sits there with his lips pursed and a frown etched into his eyebrows as he watches her retreating form.

“Melancholy without hope, which circle is that?” Loki pointedly asks Thor who looks at him with a sympathetic look only causing Loki to scoff and rolls his eyes as he stands, grabs his cane, and makes his way towards exam room one.

Loki limps into the room, already conscientious about his gold and green cane, making sure it doesn’t hit the wall as he slips into the exam room.

Looking back Loki doesn’t regret the choices his made on the cane. The man liked attention from the right people. He hates most casual people seeing as he usually finds them boring, predictable, and the need for small talk not something he takes much joy from. The cane definitely stood out and was the starter of conversation for common man that passed him by, unfortunately. This wasn’t enough to make Loki regret his ostentatious picks on his cane though.

The cane itself is light but durable. The stabilizer at the bottom had four anti-slip feet, covered by a wide quad base, all black and shiny. The cane, in all its glory, was emerald green, specifically requested by Loki, and had snakes engraved in the metal base. The snake outline, repeated around the entire cane, were then dusted in gold and, shined pretty and proper when in the sun. The snakes that run from the bottom to the top, run up the cane with open mouths as if devouring the brethren that followed up the last snake. When they reach the top of the cane, the handle’s edge, they stopped. The handle itself was covered in pure gold. The inside of it was carbon so it was lighter to carry but still very durable. The handle was fashioned after the head of a Black Mamba. Sleek and slim but one of the deadliest, most venomous snakes in the world. A symbol of Loki’s true power, or at least that’s what he told anyone that asks. In all honesty, Loki had picked the Black Mamba head because he thought it looked cute. He had a reputation to uphold, however.

Loki pushes his way into the exam room to find three nuns, one on the medical bed with two nuns on each side. As he closes the door he turns his head so he may let his eyes go wide without the women seeing his exasperated look. He turns his head back after the door is closed and he reins in his emotions.

“Hi, I’m doctor Odinson,” Loki supplies the three women, setting his cane aside in the room and looking up at the women with a small tilt of his lips. “What seems to be the problem?” He asks the woman sitting on the bed.

“Show him your hands, Augustine,” One of the sisters demands of Augustine, the woman on the bed Loki tabs in his head.

As the woman shifts the cloth covering her hands Loki takes the time to pop a pain pill into his mouth, swallowing without water if only because he’s been taking them for years for his disability. The use of the word disability is new, seeing how he didn’t take to the word too kindly in the beginning. As of now, he has accepted it for what it is and calls it as it should be, a disability. Something that may hinder him but does not define who he is or ever shall be.

Sister Augustine lifts her hands in front of her and they shake a bit as she holds them out for Loki to examine. They look raw, red, and as if they’re wet but in reality it’s because they’re covered in an ointment and severe rash. They’re pruned as if they spent too much time in water. When she turns over her hands to show him the palms he notes that they’re also raw and red, but more so and bleeding probably from scratching.

“It looks like stigmata.” The sister on the right of Augustine needlessly announces to Loki, or possibly to no one in particular. The other sister on the left shushes at her. Loki has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at her remark. Of course this ignorant nun would condemn her sister for something as simple as an allergic reaction. She finds the rash to be a form of disgrace on her sister. Typical.

Loki steps forwards, his eyes on her hands, “Must be all the talk around the holy water cooler.” He lightly supplies the three sisters with a joke to break the tension that had risen from the sister’s remark of stigmata. His eyes come to rest on her hands and as he reaches up to hold them in his own says, “You been washing a lot of dishes lately?” Loki glances up at sister Augustine’s aloof face.

“I help out in the kitchen.” Augustine replies.

“Anything new in the kitchen?” Loki asks, trying to pinpoint what’s causing the rash.

“We just got a donation of pots and pans this week.” The nameless nun tells Loki which supplies Loki with an answer for her reaction. Dish soap, pots and pans wouldn’t have caused such a reaction.

“I unpacked and washed them.” Augustin gives Loki, trying to help him out.

“Should have spent your time saving souls,” Loki says, his natural sarcasm coming over him, “It’s easier on the hands.” He says with a face that could be taken as contrite but is actually irony. “This is contact dermatitis. You’re allergic to dish soap.” Loki tells the nuns, his mind bored with how easy this diagnoses is.

As Loki turns to write down his report in the chart one of the nameless nuns speaks up. “Nonsense! We’ve always used that soap, why would it be a problem now?” She asks Loki.

Loki lets his head tilt back as he looks at the ceiling with a playful look on his face. “I’ve been a doctor for years,” He looks at the nun who spoke up, “Why do I have to keep assuring people I know what I’m doing?” He asks rhetorically. Not only talking about the nuns, Loki thinks of the many times where he has had to convince his own mother, and brother, that he knew what he was doing, going so far as to proving it.

“A person can become allergic to substances they’ve had repeated and prolonged exposure to.” Loki explains, his eyebrow raising perfectly, as if asking if the sisters had any other remarks to make before he looks down at the chart for Augustine to write his report real quick.

Loki then makes his way to the cabinet and picks out a small box inside of it. “Good news is, free samples!” He gives a fake smile, and excited tone, to the nuns. “I’m giving you an antihistamine to stop the allergic reaction,” He explains his process. “Take one every eight hours, might make you sleepy, and get some over the counter Cortisone cream, for the itchiness.” Loki looks at sister Augustine to make sure she understood his words, nodding at her when she gives an understanding nod, then handing her two pills from the box he had pulled from the cabinet.

“Thank you, doctor.” Augustine says with a small smile and nod.

“Want me to get some water?” Loki asks the women.

“I have some tea!” A nameless nun says, grabbing her thermos and giving it to Augustine.

Loki nods at the nun and backs up to pick up the chart. “Relax for a minute, the pills work pretty fast.” Then he leaves the room thinking he is done for the day in the clinic, thank god.

Loki throws the chart on top of his other charts he had left on the desk with Thor, in the lobby, and sighs as he limps around the desk and to Thor’s side.

“Still out by twelve.” Thor says, more so to grate on Loki’s nerves than anything.

Loki lets it go but replies, “How do you solve the problem of dermatitis.”

“Doctor? I want to thank you for your patience.” A sister says interrupting the conversation Loki was about to have with Thor. One of the sisters from Augustine’s side now stands in the clinic’s lobby with Loki and Thor. Her face showing she genuinely means it.

Loki manages to give Thor a disparaging look when he asks, “She talking to you?” As if shocked Loki was getting any kind of compliment. Loki can’t fault him there, he isn’t used to getting compliments either. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t bask in it but it is a little uncomfortable.

“I don’t know, she’s certainly looking at me...” Loki says back to Thor, shifting his weight from foot to foot in discomfort. He turns, watches, as the sister makes her way over to him, standing a little over a foot away. Enough distance to be comfortable since she is a stranger but a little too close for Loki’s comfort anyways. He hates people, so physical, so sentimental.

“It’s so good to get a secular diagnosis.” The nun offers Loki with a gratified look on her face, her body swaying with her words like she really means them.

Loki feels the frown come over his face and he tilts his head down at the sister.

“The sisters tend to interpret their diagnosis as divine intervention.” The nun explains to a bewildered Loki.

“And you don’t?” Loki asks, his voice not betraying his confusion but it’s definitely there. This sister is very...different from regular nuns, he can already tell. Her ideologies being promulgated so plainly are leaving Loki in an almost disoriented state. “Then you’re wearing an awfully funny hat.” Loki says, his sarcasm coming out to hide his true feelings on this whole conversation. The sister merely tilts her head with a look that says ‘Very funny’.

“Oh boy.” Thor whispers behind Loki. Loki can feel him shifting as if he wants to escape this situation just as much as Loki. “Excuse me.” Thor says grabbing all his charts and reports so he may make a swift exit. Loki glances back at Thor, his face now shifting from its usual neutrality to a look of perplexity and a hint of longing as he wants to leave too. Loki looks back to the sister, hiding his emotions again as she speaks.

“If I break my leg I believe it happened for a reason. I believe God wanted me to break my leg,” The sister says, her face showing nothing short than utter earnestness that almost makes Loki gag. “I also believe he wants me to put a cast on it.” The sister finishes causing Loki’s lips to twitch upwards and forget his brief nausea. He likes her, something no one that truly knew him would take lightly.

“Doctor! Something’s wrong!” The other sister says loudly as she races into the lobby. This breaks the little moment the sister was having with Loki and he stands at attention.

They all make their way back to exam room one with hast in their steps and Loki’s limp.

When Loki enters the room he finds Augustine to be hunched over, rapidly breathing but the air is filled with wheezes as if she can’t get breath into her lungs. Loki quickly tabs this as an asthmatic attack but grabs his stethoscope and brings it up to her chest. “Lift up your chin.” He demands softly, letting the stethoscope land on her chest when she does and moves it from the left to the right side listening to her lungs and heart as she panically breathes in faster.

“Sister you’re having an asthma attack, I need you to relax,” Loki drops the stethoscope from her chest, taking it from his ears, and turns to the drawers in the room, “Roll up her sleeve, please.” He demands of the sister next to him. He quickly picks up an syringe from the drawer he opened and turns back to sister Augustine. “I’m going to give you epinephrine,” He explains. “It will open your lungs and help you breathe.”

Loki uncaps the shot, by mouth, and quickly sticks the sister’s arm, injecting the liquid components of the epinephrine into her upper arm with fluid movements as if he’s done this a thousand times before, because he has.

Loki looks up at sister Augustine to assess the situation. The cap of the needle still in his mouth which he lightly grinds around with his teeth, almost nervous but not quite.

Everything is quiet for a moment. Loki takes this time to remove the needle from the sister’s arm and replace it with a cotton ball which he presses to her skin with moderate strength to stop any blood flow that may have followed the intrusion.

“What happened?” One of the sisters ask.

Loki foregoes the answer to that question to ask his own, “Did she take the pill?” He looks at the sister next to him, the one that had warned him of the situation and had stayed behind with sister Augustine. The one that had called it stigmata.

“Yes.” She says in a tone that betrays confusion and defensiveness.

“It’s an allergic reaction.” Loki explains ignoring the sister’s emotions at his question.

“She’s allergic to an anti-allergy medicine?” The same sister asks in an incredulous tone now.

Sister Augustine sits there taking in small mouthfuls of air, as if she now understands breathing is a commodity. Her body is still hunched over as she grabs at the medical bed with a white knuckled grip. Loki looks at her sympathetically. “How are you feeling?” He asks thinking about what variations he can use to treat her allergic reaction on her hands now that the blood rushing experience is over. “I’ll put you on some steroids instead.” He decides out loud, capping the syringe he used and throwing it away in the designated red safety box.

“Is my heart supposed to be feeling so funny?” Sister Augustine asks breathlessly, Loki watching as she brings a hand up to grab at her chest.

“It’s called adrenaline, makes the heart beat fast.” Loki says flippantly but puts two fingers on her pulse point on her wrist just to check if it’s something worth looking into. Loki looks at Augustine with concern, his eyes flitting around the room in thought, “But not this fast.”

Sister Augustine takes in a deep breath, wheezing again.

“Get a nurse, please.” He tells one of the sisters in a calm but pressing tone.

Sister Augustine leans into Loki’s body with a whimper and he grabs her so he may lightly rest her on the bed in a supine position. He leans over her watching her and trying to figure out what’s wrong, what could possibly be causing this, and how to fix it, fast.

“Somebody help!” Loki hears the nun call outside the room.

His attention is diverted when sister Augustine passes out. He quickly puts the stethoscope in his ears and puts the diaphragm on her chest, checking for her heart beat first, then her lungs. There is no comforting beat to be heard and her breathing has completely stopped as if it never existed, pulling this situation from a simple allergic reaction to something far, far more serious than Loki had anticipated.

“Somebody get in here!” Loki yells out frustrated no one has answered their calls for help. Finally a nurse in blue scrubs comes in, realizing the situation is of immediate emergency and looks at Loki so she may help.

“Call a code and charge up the defibrillator, she’s got no pulse.” He says speedily, starting to perform CPR on sister Augustine. The nurse flees from the room in record time to grab a defibrillator and yell at someone to call a code blue.

Loki manages CPR for a few minutes until the defib team comes in and takes over. They only barely manage to bring sister Augustine back to life.

Loki stands at the doorway, the two other sister next to him praying, he bites at his thumb. His mind is racing with the need for an answer. What caused this? What was he missing? It’s an allergic reaction, there’s no doubt about that, nonetheless he can’t figure out why everything he tried sent her into further shock. She couldn’t possibly have been allergic to everything he gave her, antihistamine and epinephrine. There is a factor here that he doesn’t know about, something is missing, and he would figure it out if it was the last thing he did.

Loki barely glances at one of the sisters as they take a drink from a thermos before going back to saying their Hail Mary’s.

Tagging (because they showed interest for this series): @rosaline-black @blueberrynonnie

I won’t tag yall in any other posts unless you specify you’d like that! i just wanted you both to know i started it and if you’d still be interested 😊

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emotionalcello-makefanfics · 4 years ago

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Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Batman - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Tamara Fox, Some OC for cuteness Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Sickfic, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Tim Drake is Not Red Robin, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Crying, so much crying, Love Confessions, Cheesy, God it's so cheesy, Cringe, So sweet so cheesy so angsty that you'll cringe, Tim Drake-centric, some Jason POV tho, A wild X-men appereance, I know they're not the same universe but I'm running out of character and running out of creativity, So yeah X-men characters and vaugly their mansion/orphanage too, Bruce Wayne Bashing, Some things that I don't put down bcs it'll be a spoiler, Smoking, Implied/Referenced Sex, POV from a cat????, The Clichést Cliché that ever Cliché, Cliche Summary:

They meet again on a rooftop after ten years. They're different now, and things are not the same. It's all too late. Chapter 1 sneakpeek

“Don’t jump.”

Sighing exasperatedly, Tim puts down his cigarette-clutching fingers and drags his eyes to the source of the voice. His gelled-back hair loses its hold and a strand of ear-length bangs falls to his vision.

Sadly, without seeing him and just from the voice, Tim knows exactly who this person is. One of the Bat franchise, and it just had to be the Red Hood variation, fucking great. Out of all time, it has to be tonight. The world is playing a joke on him.

Tim is sitting hunched on the rooftop’s edge, wishing he’d have some peace and quiet for once, and of course one of these pestering bats just has to bug him at the worst time. Yet, it’s actually pretty rare for Red Hood to patrol Gotham lately, and Tim curses up a storm in his mind. Out of all the days, it just has to be fucking tonight.

No, Tim is not having it.

“This man has too much to do tomorrow to jump.” Tim looks away, getting a light from his suit.

One hand lighting another one of his death stick, and the other unbuttoning his suit and loosens his tie. After a puff and two, Tim drags in and keeps the smoke in, letting his nerves uncoil. Seems like it doesn’t work that well when the big bad shadow of a vigilante doesn’t move from the corner of his eyes.

“I’m not jumping, go away, I can’t deal with you tonight,” Tim says as he sighs the smoke away to the red polluted sky, thinking the man must be deaf or just not convinced. Maybe the latter, the bats are famous for their tact after all. People say they’re purely human. Seeing Red hood’s physique, maybe this one becomes meta-human at some point.

Tim looks the other way so the vigilante is completely out of his vision, to make a point that he’s not having this conversation. He looks to the city, engulfed by the red sky. It’s bright since this building is at the heart of the city, where the higher caste of Gothamites live and prosper. You can see the border around the bright side of the city where the lights stop dead and darkness begins. The poor side of the city. The gap is ghastly, it’s what makes Gotham what it is.

Tim is not surprised but highly disappointed when he hears shuffling instead, and when he looks at where the tall brick wall of a man, he already sits down next to him. Red Hood keeps a respectable distance though, at least he has that much of a tact.

Red Hood hooks his fingers inside his helmet, does some finger shimmy, and the red shiny mask helmet is off. His face is still covered by a domino mask, his hair looks damp, and his gloved hands rake his jet black hair back. Curls bounce to his forehead, sighing a fog, the only indication that the weather is reaching the end of the year. In turn, Tim felt his cleanly shaved nape chilled.

From inside the leather jacket, the vigilante digs to look for something, and that’s when Tim realized he’s been looking at the cuts on Red Hood’s exposed forearms from the folded sleeves. Very thick and muscled forearms. This guy either lifts all day or a meta-human, not that Tim cares anymore.

“Got a light?” Red says, plush lips smirking.

Tim sighs, guess he has company today. He digs into his suit and throws him his lighter. The masked man inspects it and Tim rolls his eyes. The lighter is a metal one that you flip, and on it engraved ‘From my heart with love, that this one lasts longer, Tam.’

“A sweetheart of yours?” Says the man, the second sentence he speaks, and Tim doesn’t recognize the voice. Deep, gravely, the typical voice of someone that smokes.

Red Hood extends his hand to give back the lighter to Tim instead of throwing it, must’ve thought it’s special.

“Kind of,” Tim says, receiving the lighter.

Red Hood drags in, keeps the smoke in, “Why kind of?” and sighs.

“Never established the relationship.”

“Commitment issues?”

Tim quirks an eyebrow at the man, sitting just as hunched as him. There’s a pillar beside Tim, and he lays his back there, thinking whether or not he should engage in this conversation. Eh, why not right? It’s not like it’s confidential information, and Tim is just so tired of caring about social politics.

“I was too late,” Tim says. It’s not as painful to say now, but lately, Tim has been numb. He’s been numb for years. Tim’s gay, or so he thought. When he began to really love her, she’s gone from him.

“Girl got another guy?” Red Hood teases.

“Girl got dead,” Tim deadpans. The smile dropped from the vigilante’s mouth, and if only he can see his eyes, panic would look funny on the all-powerful Bat. But, no, Tim can see his tell by the tapping hands.

“Ah fuck, sorry.”

Tim chuckles at the spectacle of an awkward vigilante. Maybe this night won’t be so bad after all.

“Relax, I’m not too sad about it now, it was years ago.”

It’s hard to predict Red’s expression with that domino mask that takes his cheekbones and half his forehead, but Tim’s pretty sure the twist on that mouth means his opinion of Tim isn’t good. Well, not that Tim cares.

“How did she die?”

“Wrong place, wrong time,” Tim put the filter on his lips and drags in as deep as he can. Too deep, and Tim coughs hard, once and twice that his vision blurs. Her face comes to vision, the morbidity of her expression tips Tim’s nerves off balance. Tim quickly takes another deep drag, “She was in the Joker’s way.”

At the name, Red Hood snaps his face at Tim. Slowly, languidly, Tim looks back. The vigilante clenched jaw and balled fists look like he’s about to kill somebody. Tim knows that a few years ago Red Hood kidnapped Joker, didn’t kill him, and just vanished before popping up again to have a vendetta against Batman. What a load of drama those bunch.

This also means that Tim knows exactly who this person is. Suddenly the voice registers, the familiar jaw, the soft fucking tone.

He blames it on the nicotine that his heart is calmer than he’d like, his mind still not on overdrive, still plagued with Tam’s face as she died in front of him. He’d breathe smoke instead of oxygen if he could. God he wished he’d breathe smoke from now on. Why does it have to be today? One grace from the universe is that Tim -for some reason- feels amused instead of dread.

“You look like you’re about to kill somebody, Red,” Tim says, can’t help the ease and sass in his voice. Tim lays back hunched, crosses his legs. “I thought you let go of your vendetta against the Joker.”

“Where do you hear that bullshit?” Redhood snaps and Tim can’t help but let go another chuckle.

“People talk, words get around,” Tim says.

“Then they’re far off the truth,” Red hisses before dragging in his cig.

“Yet the Joker still roams.”

“Ain’t my call.”

“Is it the big bat daddy calls?”

Red Hood splutters at the name and Tim smirks evilly at the reaction. “Ew, don’t call him that!”

“I can call that higher-than-thou furry hero wannabe anything I want,” Tim spits bitterly, looking out to the city. Sometimes when he’s really lucky, he’ll catch one of the bats twirling in the sky, and now one of ‘em is sitting beside him, but sadly it’s not the most shocking knowledge he has today. “One of these days it’s going to be my turn.”

“What?”

“Dying in the collision of mad men’s evil master plan you refuse to get rid of.”

“Ck, I don’t like what you’re insinuating.”

“Sorry then, I don’t mean to insinuate anything. This is me telling you loud and clear that you’re all cowards for not killing these maniacs that kill us like ants when you have the power to stop them.” Tim’s voice is even and chill, it did not raise a tone, but it reduces the bulk of a man beside him to still. “Some of us rooted for you when you caught the Joker, and your reputation gives us high hopes that it’ll be the last of him. Then he showed up again.” Tim feels the lighter in his pocket burn, “Then Tam died.”

Tim pumps his lung full of smokes, keeping it in there so that the clawing gloom will die before it takes roots.

“I almost did kill him, Batman stopped me,” the gravel voice says lowly.

Tim feels himself stiffens, now that’s something he doesn’t know. His eyes scan the hunched vigilante, trying to find any sign of a lie, there’s none.

“Shit,” Tim curses, sighing up smoke and quickly takes a deep drag in. “Fuck Batman.”

For the first time, Tim hears Red chuckle, “Yeah, fuck him.”

“Still your family though, right?” Tim says, earning what he thinks is a glare, who would fucking know with that mask. “Why else would you stay in his line?”

Red Hood looks away, not answering.

“Guess I understand. Proving something to someone.”

Red scoffs, “Would you?”

“You know who I am.”

“Yeah, not your story.”

Tim scoffs at the obvious lie, “Look it up. I have better things to do than telling you my backstory that’s a google search away.”

Tim Drake. Son of the CEOs of Drake Industries. Running smoothly since ever he becomes the COO. Yada yada, young and successful, yada yada, has the reputation to chew out the reporters and a resting bitch face, all that shit. Tim doesn’t have the best bedside manners, but when it comes to business, Tim gets things done, and his business partners know to swallow their pride for a potential too stupid to missed just because Tim has fangs.

“I dunno, you’re pretty mysterious in the eye of the media,” Red says.

“Because they’re nosy pricks and not worth my time when they’re asking me about rumors of my flings.”

“They’re not true?”

“What the fuck are you? Does TMZ sent you?”

“Good point, never mind.”

They let the quiet settle in, and Tim isn’t too bothered by the company so much. The red amber eats to his filter. Tim puts out the light and puts the bud back inside the pack while he gets another one. He looks down at his light, which reminded him of Tam. Damn, she was such a good assistant, she’s also his best friend but a damn better assistant. Tim doesn’t let himself think about it.

He lights another, and puffs.

“Shouldn’t you be patroling?” Tim says before he can stop himself.

“Nah, not here to patrol, just some errands.”

“Don’t mind me. I’m not jumping.”

“No, I know that,” Red says, tone softer that Tim narrows his eyes at him.

“Lonely?” Tim teases, putting the filter in his lips while locking eyes to the pair of white lenses.

Red shrugs, “Just wanna kill time with someone that doesn’t wear one of these,” he says, tapping to his domino mask.

Tim hums imagining himself with his family, “Yeah, me too, I’d take a vigilante franchise over family dinner anytime.”

“Aww,” Red surprisingly coos, making Tim flustered.

“Don’t get it twisted, my family sets a pretty low bar for good company.”

“I can say the same, Timmy.”

Tim flinches, “I didn’t say you can call me Timmy.”

“What about friends then?” Red follows up, ignoring him.

“Joker killed my only best friend. Oh god, stop making that face, everyone I know got someone they know killed by the Joker, or Bane, or.... shit just those freaks.”

“Doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I don’t care what you feel.”

“I’m wounded,” Red says in that joking ‘boo-hoo’ voice but it was the last thing to snap Tim’s patience completely. He hates this casual conversation as if nothing happened.

“I’m not jumping, and I know you’re not here just to talk to some random civilian. You know who I am, so say what you wanna say and go,” Tim inhales deeply after the low-toned rant, only to be met with another silence.

They stay quiet for a few whiles again. Smoking the tension away. After Tim’s cig burns halfway, his nerves calmed down. Then he realizes that Red is looking at him. Staring.

“What?” Tim says, sighing smoke.

“Would you kill Joker if you could?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Killing someone isn’t as easy as it sounds, especially if you did it before.”

“You underestimate my anger then.”

Red Hood goes still for what Tim is insinuating. His phone vibrates in his pocket. Tim gets it and his new assistant reminds him of a flight in an hour and he needs to be ready in half. Tim puts out his cig and pockets it.

As he stands up, he looks down at Red Hood, really looks at him. It reminded Tim of the time has passed. It’s been so long.

“Nothing to say?” Tim asks, he has an underlying tone of ‘last chance.’

“Thanks for the light.”

Tim clenches his jaw and breaths slowly. What did he expect? “You caught me at a bad time but it’s good to meet you again, Jason.”

When Tim walks away, his elbow is grabbed and he’s spun to face Jason in all his bulk. Looming over him with his height.

“You know who I am?” Red says with a threat in his voice that makes Tim wants to laugh.

“Are you really that surprised? Or did you forget me when you fucking died?” Tim smiles bitterly.

Moments passed, eyes on each other, chest to chest. The last time he sees Jason, Tim was staring at these white lenses too, and Jason was still as tall as him. At this close, Tim sees tiny tears that heal pale than the rest of his tan skin, bulked up body looming over him that used to be similar to his. For anyone, Tim had two best friends, Robin and Jason Wayne-Todd, he had known the two are the same. Seems like Jason doesn’t.

Doesn’t matter now. Everything said and done. Too late.

“Say your goodbyes now,” Tim says, because why else would his childhood friend pops back again after a decade of not saying anything after he returned to life. Tim doesn’t realize it’ll hurt this bad though. Missing Tam doesn’t hurt this bad.

Perhaps it was because the scar never healed right, but he still thinks of Jason like a big chunk of him that’s been torn away forcefully, even now.

“I’m sorry,” Jason finally says, low and guilty, as he should be, but it irks Tim to no end.

“I lost you, and when you’re back you didn’t tell me,” Tim says, his voice cracks and he curses it to hell. Red Hood’s been around for years, and Jason never came to Tim to say he’s alive. “If you have nothing else to say, let go of me.”

“I didn’t know that you knew.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know you know I was Robin... Did you know... everyone?”

Tim rolls his eyes, “Yes.” Gloved hands still on his elbow, and white lenses not letting him go. The non-challant face he wears slips off as if oil just slicked between the mask and his skin. His heart picks up a beat. There are layers between their skin, Jason’s thick gloves and Tim’s three-piece suit, but it feels warmer. Burning.

“Damn,” Jason curses under his breath.

It’s just a little thing, but Jason’s silence following that is a nother prick to Tim’s skin.

“Is that all?” Tim dismissed, pulling his arm away, but Jason only holds tighter.

“I didn’t know, okay?” Jason pushes, “And you’re a civilian, you’re not supposed to know Jason Todd is back to the land of the living.”

“A civilian,” Tim mutters under his breath. That’s all he is to Jason? All this time. His chest hurts, Tim knows this is because of Jason’s words instead of anything else. “Get away from me.”

“I’ll see you again,” Jason says before letting go.

Before Tim can say don’t bother, the man puts on his red helmet and grapples away. For a moment Tim can see the shadow of red yellow green flying away.

#jaytim #jaytim fanfic #jaytim fanfiction #tim drake fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #Tim drake fanfic #Jason todd fanfic #Back on that dc angst train baby #emocel's

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 5 years ago

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Witcher Of The Night (Chapter 4)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 3

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Ciri wanted chicken and so she gets one. Y/N needed warmth amongst the cold weather in the Forest of Kaedwan and she'd received more than a warmth for her body as it traveled straight to her heart; warming her soul. Even getting some sort of comfort from the witcher himself. Other than that, Geralt had a lead on where the sorceress was. Though, right now he needed her to help you Plus, he also had other options other than that.

Warnings: FULL OF Y/N AND GERALT FLUFF. ❤ Geralt is an asshole at first because of certain reasons. 😂 Blood and animal killing in this one. Smiling, soft Geralt, tho still having that stoic expression of his of course. Gotta write him completely in character. 😂 Also, a Hirikka is here and will be on the next chapter!

Words: 3,900+

A/N: There's a part 2 for this chapter. It'll be a chapter 4.1 but will be posted after 2-3 days. ^u^ I couldn't put them together because it'll be 8-9k words long. 😅😂 Sorry, if I write long ass chapters and the pace is still slow. I need to develop their characters, relationship and such. The places said here are from the game however it isn’t accurate and I just made my own direction. Like how I try to make my life go in the right path but failing and actually walking on the wrong path. LMAO. Also, I’m making a masterlist for WOTN! 🤗

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG's used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren't from moi as well.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

"Do you not...have cars, Geralt? Or motorcycles?"

You've panted like you were having a marathon, palms falling on your knees as you took a breather; seeing a small cottage on the far end of the shallow path in the forest.

It was a smaller house that had a fence with chickens, goats and pigs segregated by kind. The home was a sandy shade of yellow and a slip of brown which was also made just like how Geralt's have been.

No answer was given to you other than how he was hauling Roach back to look at you who were walking along side with him; not bothering to even ask you for a ride. It's not like you were hoping he would. Based on the change of mood he'd gotten, you were sure he won't lend you his horse to lessen your difficulty in traveling bare foot.

You've already asked what his horse's name was. He simply answered with the word 'Roach', allowing you to touch the horse as she neighed. Much to someone's dismay; specifically a bard who happened to saw the whole interaction, left a mutter to himself.

"Why does the midget get to touch Roach in haste and I don't?!" Jaskier muttered rather in disbelief. The Witcher fixing his black, hooded wool cape attached to his shoulders, giving him a subtle hum with the gravel of his voice.

Jaskier huffed for the third time, hands on his hips as he watched the scene before him with incredulity in his baby blue peepers. You happily caressed her crest as Geralt fixed things on the leather bag attached to the horse's hip.

"Geralt---" Jaskier started but was cut off with a insouciant scold from the man himself, "Don't call her midget," he cut him off without even paying him attention. Jaskier gave a nod; a grin molding his face leading to mischief at the chide given.

Jaskier took a step close and planned to give Roach's crest a caress but his stern friend was fast enough to cease his wishes, "Still, don't touch roach," Geralt quickly mumbled as he felt Jaskier's plan on touching his horse. The bard slyly grabbed onto his own hair, brushing them through his locks like he wasn't about to pet Roach. Geralt closed the bag with a soft click, giving him the side-eye; voice firm and full of derision, "I don't want you singing a song about my horse in the near future,"

Which is why you were walking on your own now with Geralt's good will on making you handle the death march rather like a happy child.

It was probably okay, you thought at the back of your mind. Walking, that is. Exercising in the morning was great, except that if it weren't too chilly unlike him who have gotten a full armor and gear out of his closet like he'd gone out of a magazine or animè. The sword on his back even giving you shivers, but a different kind because of how tough looking he had as his exterior.

You shook your head as he just looked back at you. That look of his that was filled of inquiry; asking you what you were saying in the back of your mind. A huff of pure exhaustion was given to The Witcher before you sauntered forward, leaving the man eyeing you with sass and a high raise of his bushy brow.

Geralt followed through along with Roach as he pulled her reins, slowly galloping as he analyzed your form from behind. His buttoned up tunic that reached the ends of your thighs with a weird kind of foot ware that certainly doesn't help with the crispy, brisk temperature of the forest.

Geralt gravelly sighed, watching you struggle with scrubbing your legs together as you pathetically strolled forward and onto the place that he'd pointed. He was too engrossed at seeing you struggle when he has heard a slight twig breaking from afar, catching his senses and making him look to where it came from.

"Midget," The Witcher tried calling you with that deep voice of his in the middle of the woods. Though, to no avail; you never heard him coherently and continued your stroll through the forest; hollering a message without even looking back because of the mere exhaustion.

"You're too slow, Geralt, like an old man! I'm exhausted!"

He breathed out his vexation of your naivety that you weren't strolling in your world. You were walking in theirs and having your own little dimension while you walk by yourself can be pretty dangerous.

Geralt heard the crack of another wood. It was from behind a large hickory tree. He doubtfully grabbed onto the handle of his sword wrapped behind him; halfway unsheathing the sword and contemplating if he needed to jump off his horse when suddenly a medium sized Hirikka came into his view, maybe an inch shorter than you. Those eyes that were doe, just like yours whenever you wanted something and eventually getting it from him.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" Geralt asked the Hirrika. The tone in his voice softer and in awe. He'd rummaged through his bag without taking his Aurum, blazing eyes away from the harmless creature, feeling an apple inside his bag and threw it as the Hirikka caught it with its own two paws.

"Don't get yourself killed out there,"

Thus, he began to follow you as fast as possible before you even get yourself harmed from any monsters. When he'd seen you leaning on the fences of Cuthberth's home, he didn't know he has been holding a breath for as long as he could remember without seeing the sight of you.

You were making him insane for not even waiting for him and thinking what would've attacked you in the forest of Kaedwan.

Cuthbert was feeding the chickens inside their palisades. His friend thought you were lost but you've said that you came for the purpose of buying chickens with a man. He was friendly enough to give you chitter-chatter while waiting for Geralt to follow you from behind. It took minutes before he arrived with a complete set of body parts; so the worry of him being killed off by a monster was thrown in the dumps.

As he rode his horse closer, you've had the chance to admire the beauty edging to be seen. You were in awe as his mere self was enough to get you ogling at the man treading near. Never seeing such a man like that who wore armors in his everyday life except from seeing Cosplayers in certain conventions that seemed so fake rather than Geralt who felt real. Too real that you were pondering if he was just a mere hallucination or a fantasy of yours.

He was definitely eye-candy. Dashing. Ravishing. Beyond gorgeous.

Cuthbert saw them coming and so, his expression turned wild with a grin. His dirty fingers scratching his bald head in excitement as he jogged out of the fences with a giddy self. "Oi! You didn't tell me it's the infamous Geralt of Rivia, elfin!"

Famous. He's famous? you thought to yourself before keeping your eyes away from the witcher who had already jumped down his horse and gave you a look; asking what was wrong because you were staring like there was a problem at hand.

You didn't need to tell him that your heart was actually the problem. It was always skipping a beat whenever he'd pay a glimpse to stare at your eyes.

A soft clear of your throat, your fist covering your mouth as you do and you eyed Cuthbert inquisitively, "Is he famous? Famous for what? Is he an actor? Model? The king of this kingdom or something?"

Cuthbert patted his dirty hands on his soiled apron full of flour, a hand on his hip while the other reaches out for Geralt's powerful looking shoulder in attempt to give him a pat. The animal butcher's forest green eyes coruscant of fervor. Geralt's initial response was to give him a smile back with the man's excitement in seeing him again, "This lad's a something! Kills all types of beasts, vampires, dragons, huge kikimores---"

You coughed out loud, making them snap their heads from where you stood. Cuthbert's words sounded too surprising to be true. As much as you remembered, vampires only existed in the movies and games; not in the real life survival of people. His words caught you off-guard, "Vamp--vampires? There's vampires here, Cuthbert? Even dragons?"

Geralt looked at you, utmost jaded. The way your voice stuttered alerted him that you were scared or probably still unfamiliar--still illiterate of their world since he was doubting to give you all the information ahead if you abruptly disappear out-of-nowhere with the knowledge of the continent; their world. It would be very much dangerous for it to be compromised especially that you had the experience in teleporting to their dimension.

Cuthbert gave a loud laugh, not believing the strangeness of your words, "You're actin' like yer’ never been here before! I thought yer’ were livin' with the Witcher?! You should ask the white wolf, here! He's killed hundreds! Maybe even thousands!"

You've fluttered your eyes closed, trying to calm yourself from running off the forest and getting yourself killed just like the horror movies you've watched. You've called them idiots, now wasn't the time to call yourself one as well.

Though, you were completely unaware of Geralt's gaze which consist an ample amount of worry. You continued your rambles in a hushed whisper, "I'm not just in a freakin' game that have monsters, but even a live-action movie of Twilight. This is great, real great."

The Witcher clenched his teeth, gradually turning his body to you without moving his soles. His forehead creasing as he could feel your heart beat quickening, "Are there also wolves? Big bad wolves here?" your voiced lowering a miniscule, sounding diminutive.

His friend gave off a shrug, his mouth forming a thin line when he did so as he scratched his whitened beard, "We may never know what this world can bring, Elfin! It always brings out the worst of everythin'!"

At the confident mention of that, you've felt your chest tightening with the knowledge of having vampires and dragons around. What if you died in their world? Would you also be dead in earth? Geralt licked his Crimson lips, staring down at you with utmost comfort that he could give. Yet, he failed at that with how stoic his expressions can get. Though, his eyes were exempted because his feelings can be read through those stern, Aurum eyes.

Midway, he'd lift his burly armor-coated arms to plan and give your back a caress to calm you down; but he was immediate enough to drop it down considering that maybe even a touch to the hand would calm you because he'd seen it trembled. If only he was thoroughly direct towards you; he would in a heart beat.

"Don't panic, Midget." The roughness of his voice; that definite amount of timbre. It was the only word you've heard from him. Short but straightforward. Even so, still the only thing that calmed you down through out all your panic attacks back in earth and even in their world.

Cuthbert has seen Geralt's attempt of comfort; even seeing his eyes shift in a way that nobody else could. He had a smirk on his face, scrubbing that beard he was owning, "Who is she, Witcha'? Another one of those clingy harlots of yours?"

Geralt turned his head to see Cuthbert smirking. The way his eyes changed into a lethargic faze meant that the witcher was mantling the emotions he was having or probably having no idea that he was feeling it yet; in denial of the state he was in.

"---Or the trouble and strife?"

The witcher knew what he meant and decided to let those words fall out of his ear to the other. His hands clasping together on his front as he straightened his back, cocking his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes on the latter, "We need...chickens," Cuthbert raised his eyebrows in astonishment, "You cook now, witcher?"

No words were said besides from a satisfied hum as the chickens clucked before the butcher of animals. The panic died down because of Geralt's voice and you've finally had the will to insert yourself in the conversation.

"I do!" you excitedly exclaimed, stepping a foot closer to Geralt and the witcher was aware of it, giving you the side-eye, "---also, do you have any spices please?"

Cuthbert nodded in comprehension, sending a playful wink to The Witcher and scrubbing his hands together as he also gave you a rogouish smile, "Oh, that kind. The little woman, Geralt! Literally because this elfin is quite short but fetching nevertheless!" Geralt gave him an apathetic blink of an eye, sighing from the talkativeness of the man.

But, also worth it if he could see those anticipated beams of yours as you stood beside him.

The latter gave out a loud sigh, seeming to be in his head space as he talked his thoughts out loud, "---I remember how Gisela cooks Flamiche for me whenever I go home from me' hunt! Though, that woman seldom does it anymore considering how Bridgely gets her attention a lots!"

Geralt gave him that daunting smile of his; wanting to tell the man to just butcher the heck out of the chickens already as he wanted to get it over with. You gave Cuthbert a wide smile, oblivious of Geralt's taunting gaze back at the man. He suppressed a laugh and nodded to himself; quickly running off to Geralt's wishes.

As the chicken was being slaughtered across the fence, Geralt was thoroughly unaware that you were already sniffing and crying because it was all out in the open and you could see how it was being killed. He watched you look over the fence and inspect Cuthbert cutting its head off and it made you shriek, warm tears falling on the sides of your face while watching how much pity you've given to the chicken.

Geralt did a double-take, eyeing you and where you were staring at and saw how you were crying over a chicken being slaughtered. He wanted to laugh because of how you were being sad over it. However, he decided against so as to not offend you when you were just pouring your heart out in this one.

"I thought...you wanted chickens?" the witcher pondered, leaning away from the fence and facing you instead with that amused glint in his eyes.

You've sniffed hard, patting your nose with his clothes that you were wearing from; the snot wanting to come out of its cave. You gazed up at him; eyes damp and reddish from the cries. "I did, Geralt! But not for it to be killed like this!" you hiccuped from all the bawling that has happened, "---It was better to be bought in a supermarket!"

The way you cry always made a pinch inside Geralt's heart. A kind where he would try and do everything to make it stop because you were annoying but also irresistible.

His lips lifted in a slight beam, looking around the forest before peering down at your sobbing thyself. "There, there," surprisingly, Geralt cooed before you; stopping your weeps short as you gaped at the tall witcher. His chiseled face warped in clear softness and mirth, "---for a bountiful feast requires death in exchange for us to be sated,"

The amazing color of his eyes gleamed more under the sun. You couldn't help but outstare back at him with that stupefied look of utter adoration. You snapped out of your daydream when he was waiting for a witty retort but you've loudly cleared your throat; the heat travelling to your neck. Before it can even reach your face, you turned your head back to look at Cuthbert who was now grinning back at you; holding the headless chicken up for you to see. Its blood dripping down the ground as he mouthed a 'what do you think?' back at you and Geralt to tell you if the size of the chicken was a-okay.

Your face quickly morphed into a wince, another mourn about to come to light when you've felt a warm hand on your shoulder; shooting lightning to your spine as you jumped from the physical touch. Geralt gently turned your body around; away from the panorama of chicken slaughter. The way his lips lifting in a small, soft smile never leaving yet. "Don't look at it,"

A huff was sent to the latter, "I can't! It's making noise!"

"Then cover your ears," Geralt's brow raised in sarcasm. Though, those playful sparkle never dying down. You narrowed your eyes back at him, an annoyed crease of your forehead as you explained and raised your hands back at him. It looked dull and definitely freezing, "But, my hands are shaking from the cold!"

Geralt studied you from head to foot, noting the lack of clothes you were wearing. The smile you've grown to love fell as he sighed, looking away for a moment before a tiresome gaze of his eyes was sent to you. He held onto the string of his jet black hooded cape, unlatching it around his neck as you stared up at him in utmost curiosity.

The softness of his cape fell around your shoulders like a furnace hugging your body; better yet the soul that needed a hug after all you've experienced since the first time you've been in their world. You could feel your heart warming at the gesture of Geralt giving you his dramatic cape; even growing hotter when he was tethering the tie together; intently staring down at your face and feeling his thick, calloused fingers inches before your neck.

Maybe, an egg was worthy of using your face as a frying pan right now.

You consciously looked away from the heat of his stare. Geralt tightened the tie around your neck as you've felt the heaviness of his cape over your shoulders. He drew he fingers away from your neck, slanting his head as he never cut the gaze he had; rather than you who'd looked away because you were...blushing.

"Better?" His voice graveled, a small beam carving his face. You've reluctantly gawked back at him, giving him a reserved nod. The way you were acting looked entirely stupid, your eyes looking like those googly ones used as stickers back in your desk as you tried avoiding the intensity of his stare. You bit the insides of your cheeks, deciding to leave the exhilaration out in the back as you had the courage to look at him, "Better!---Never better, Ge-Geralt!" Regardless of the brave act, you embarrassingly stammered and cited his name wrongly with a shameful 'J', "I mean, Geralt. Geralt with a G!" you back paddled in an instant, scratching your temples as you avoided his eyes and tried to fan your face.

The witcher looked askance, he could hear your heart beat running miles after miles. Geralt pondered why and what was making it pump fast when you weren't even having your panic attacks.

He crossed his hefty arms, looking at you skeptically but with a stupefying smile on his face, "Are you going to stop being a bairn now?"

You initially stopped fanning your face, narrowing your eyes back at him; completely confused, "What's a bairn?" he sighed and glanced at the sky, shaking his head with a beam that fell as quick as you've seen it when Geralt heard Cuthbert walking to where you were and glanced at the acquaintance.

The dead chicken was tied close to the witcher's bag located on the hip of his horse. You were busy staring at the four pieces of aftershafted chickens dangling on Roach's side with that sympathetic glaze of your eyes but actually talking at the back of your mind that its death would be worth it because you cook well and he'll taste good.

Cuthbert scrutinized your nodding form. A strange expression written on his face that tells that he was seeing the oddity that you were nodding at the chickens like you were talking to them.

The animal butcher was running his blabber mouth about how his chickens were also missing every other day. Sometimes his pigs or goats that made Geralt narrow his eyes from his share of message; his nose slightly scrunching from the admission of Cuthbert with his missing animals.

He didn't need to know that some were kind of caught by Geralt's hands. Maybe at least ten chickens, three pigs and two goats. Even so, slaughtered by the witcher himself.

The sneaky witcher couldn't catch a chicken as of the moment because he always does it at night. Catching a chicken from other people's fence in the morning can be risky and definitely tricky.

"About...the sorceress," Geralt trailed off, grabbing Cuthbert's attention away from you before he could even think you didn't belong to their world and guessed about his stealing escapades. He spun his head to look at Geralt, thoroughly distracted from how he called him out, "---you still hangin' onto that sorceress you had, witcher?"

"No...It's....kind of complicated," the latter speculated with a shake of his head.

Cuthbert nodded in understanding, scratching the nape of his neck as he seem to ponder, "The tittle-tattles around the village says that the sorceress is in a burgh called 'crow's perch' in the east of Vizima," pause. "It's a long journey out there! Lots'a beasts to encounter before it!" he roughly warned.

The Witcher only hummed in response; deep in thought as he calculated how long will it take to get there after a week when he was done with any favors for the villagers of Kaedwan and for some of his options on how to get you home.

His first choice was the Djinn. Now, he just needed to find one. Again. But, not for the sole purpose of asking peace and a long nap but to help you.

Geralt fished out the black pouch he kept on his sides, reaching out to give it to Cuthbert across the fence. The animal butcher shook his head to decline the money, "No, I don't need yer' coins." he simply admitted with a scoff, "You've helped us a lot; for me to be accepting some kind of repayment from the white wolf himself---,"

"----You deserve a thank you for all your help, Witcher." Cuthbert continued with a grateful tone.

Thus, this was the first time that he'd been acknowledged by his help in slaying monsters and terrifying creatures. The man himself didn't know how pleasing it was to hear those words from a mere human and from a person he'd help back in the years. Even so, seeing those smiles you've given him when you were excited to cook the damn chicken didn't seem so satisfying and delightful to look at; until now..

MORE FLUFF ON CHAPTER 4.1! Heehee! THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE, TATER TOTS! AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO LOVES GERALT CALLING Y/N, MIDGET?

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @missjenniferb (I couldn’t tag you AGAIN bud! A different blog was popping out of the recommendation and it wasn’t your blog. Though, I’ll try again on the next update! Don’t worry! Tumblr is being DUMBLR RN. I’M MAD) @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural

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oh-for-fic-sake · 5 years ago

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Trophy chapter four

Masterlist

Warnings: Adult Themes Dubcon,Controlling Behaviour, Swearing, Smut +18 Only

Chapter 0ne Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter five Chapter Six

Your escape doesn’t go as planned as Henry reveals just how much power he truly has.

You were just over a week into your 'stay' at Henry's manor and had just about had enough. Youd spent the last few days in a constant fit of frustration. I had become very clear in the first few days that you were nothing more than a toy, a doll for him to coo over and manipulate. Or maybe a better way to discribe it was the girl in a childs music box being made to dance when ever the owner decided to open the lid. Either way you felt trapped used and helpless, at first he made sure you spent as much time as possible together taking you to the office when he had to work, sitting you on the sofa with a book or parade you around the house.

After that he would put you in what became your daily cell tho never alone if he wasnt with you kal was. Day after day you were left in here a freshly decorated room that youd heard the guards refer to as the play room, it was like a large airy living room like somthing from pintrest a plush looking corner sofa around a light coffee table,large tv on the wall above the fireplace with games consoles neatly tucked away,two floor to ceiling book cases either side ,there was a cabinet full of dvds and games behind the sofa opposite there was a sideboard filled with sketch books, pens and pencils ect and a two seat small dining table sat between the two cabinets. The room was a mix of soft pale pinks and blues and was chock full of soft furnishings pillows and various blankets draped here and there and huge faux fur rug . The window was locked being ground level ,that was the first thing you checked when left alone ,not that you'd get far across the gravel drive he had made a point not to give you shoes. The saying bare foot in the kitchen sprung to mind.

He would visit you when you were in here at lunch forcing you to eat with threats of spanking sometimes worse. Being treated like a child was wearing thin and to be quiet honest you were becoming scared,finding it easier to go along with his insanity, you called him daddy without a thought somewhere in the back of your mind you knew it was wrong but after just over a week he had managed to drum it into you. It was frighteing just how quickly you could be conditioned you had to get out soon. He was overbearing always helping himself to you, kissing ,touching and generally trying to act as if you were a couple until you did something he didnt like then it was back to threats and reality hit.

Today was slightly different you woke up curled on your side his henry lazily running his finger through your hair you squinted rubbing your eyes as he leant over kissing your shoulder before running hi hand across your tummy spreading out his fingers and pulling you back against his crotch, he rocked against your bottom groaning quietly into your hair as you felt his cock springing to life he grinded harder against you before shuffling pinning you flat on your back straddling you pulling your legs to rest either side of his hips you whined in protest trying to shuffle from under him when he pulled you down tight against him he just tilted his head raising and eyebrow. The warning was clear behave. He rubbed against your mound sliding his cock along the seam pf your pussy. You closed your eyes tight already feeling the arousal build inside of you dreading what was to come, you couldnt help how your body reacted you tried to just let him get on with it but each morning he managed to coax you into participating a little more, not letting you distance yourself any longer. He grunted low i his throat as he pumped himself against you resting his weight on his hips one hand cuped the top of his cock squeezing it against you as he pushed it against your clit. You gasped as you felt his throbbing cock against you pulling high pitched moans and whines as you bit your lip trying to keep quiet. He chuckled

"Oh fuck... thats it baby girl ...come on let daddy hear you." You shook your head back and forth as your pussy weeped onto him soaking both of you you found your self panting hard when he groaned grabbing one of your hands replacing his over his cock you tried pulling away and he growled at you.

"Stay still baby.... fuck thats it good girl.. your so good for daddy" he groaed deep as he sped up before leaving wet open mouthed kisses on your collar bone then kissed up to your lips trying to pry your mouth open you turned your head away. He sighed moving his hand into the boxers that you wore finding your swollen clit flicking and pinching harshly causing you to buck and cry out, he quickly took the opportunity to invade your mouth tasting your tongue sucking you into a passionate kiss he let go of your hand placing his hand pressing your knee up to your torso spreading you out for him rubbing his cock faster with jerky thrusts skimming your opening with every movement you gripped the sheets twisting them as you felt your walls trying to clench onto him desperate for him to fill you you rocked back against him looseing yourself in him as he smothered you he released your mouth biting down on your neck leaving a mark alongside yesterdays. You became hot, to hot as you flushed under him chasing your own end grinding up against him

"Oh! oh god please! Please i cant" you babbled incoherently as he repositioned his hand thumbing your clit and thrusting into you harshly with his fingers bouncing your body across the bed you let out a load moan as his hand worked furiously rubbing amd curling his finding your soft spot befor zeroing in and running his fingers harshly across it you cired bucking out at him unsure of you wanted hi to go faster or get off your climax built and he chuckled as your clamped down on his fingers to the point of pain

"Aww baby you want to cum dont you? Thats it good girl so good is it to much?" he didnt relent still masaging that spot you nodded and cried tears falling down your face you couldnt breath it was to much

"Then cum, its ok you can cum, cum for daddy ,all over daddies fingers" you hated how his wods pushed you over the edge and even then he didnt stop he seemed to double his efforts when you arched violently with a silent scream gushing over his fingers he continued moving draggin out your orgasm he moved higher running the underside of his cock across your mound with stuttering hips.

"Oh..OH shit YES YES fuck! OH GOD Little one fuck" he let out a long gruntle moan as he finished spraying cum up your front you both laid there panting. Shame washed over you like it had done every morning he did this. You felt dirty and used he rolled on his side tucking you in his arms kissing your head praising you for how good you were and telling you how much he loved you as you curled ijto him wetting his tinto him overwhelmed. After a few moments the saddness past and you laid stock still against him as he pulled you to lie across him head on his chest stroking your hair once again.

"Iv got to go out today pet. I trust youll be good whne im gone and if your lucky I'll get you a treat" you froze at his words gojng out... that meant youd be alone the thlught filled you with dread and anticipation.

"If your naughty you will regret it when i get back."you both laid there for what felt like hours he wouldnt let you move. Tho he finally let out a breath and ushered you to the bath room showering with you. After getting dressed and having breakfast he left and you noticed he didnt put you any where. You dread to think what he was doing. But you were left the run of the house. So here you sat in the kitchen alone in the huge house apart from the security he kept on site. 'This was it.. or was it a test?..' you raced to the living room window and watched an expensive car leave the gates at the bottom of the drive as it dissapeared behinde the wall that clossed off the property. You debated in your head if he was just waiting to see if you were going to try and run or not. You had to try, somthing was happening to you here ,you didnt like how complacent you were getting with him. It was cruel really the only person that was aloud to interact with you was him, you find yourself almost craving him, you enjoyed his praise lapping it up liike a love sick school girl.

Deciding that this may be the last time you could escape before it was to late you walked into the kitchen slowly as not to alert anyone to your plan even tho your heart was racing ten to the dozen. Quickly and quietly you pulled a small packet of plasters from one of the draws. Throught out your stay you learnt a few things all the doors leading outside and your 'play room' had pressure alarms built in you'd set one off on your forth day trying to get out into the garden resulting in another painfull and very embarassing spanking in the kitchen then experienced your first corner time, the other thing you learnt were all the guards had shifts and patrol routes the house ran like clockwork youd freighed interest in him and he'd waffled on about how it wasnt all bad and he'd take you out when you'd acclimated to your new life then boasted about the cars he had in the basment garage but you'd 'never get to drive one as driving these fast cars is to dangerous for his baby girl'. Tho you hadnt made a thing of it you kept the information locked away youd been behaving hopeing he would let down his gaurd. Once you got the plasters you put them in the pocket of your cardigan and grabbed a butter knife hooking it in the back of your jeans wedging it just under the tight waist band.

"What are you still doing in here? Get to the playroom" you screamed in suprize as the voice came out of no where you spun round faceing the man and nodded walking past him quickly.

"Wait. What have you been doing in here?" He said grabbing your arm pulling you to a stop you huffed tugging your arm.

"Let go i havent done anything" you twisted around as he patted you down you froze mouth going dry as you thought he was going to find the knife in your jeans he didnt instead his hands found the packet of plasters the cocked an eyebrow

"Im doing some crafts today these are incase i get a paper cut...im clumsy and tthought i should take a pack the keep in there just incase" he eyed you for a few seconds befor smirking at you

"So the princess was sneaking about for some plasters, im suprised you werent trying to sneak candy, would be more fitting for his baby girl." He laughed as you glared at him venomously

"Fuck you ,you cunt" you spat in his face he growled before grabbing your arm in a bruising grip dragging you out of the kitchen down the hall as you screamed at him, a few others poked their heads around to watch asking what was wrong as you were dragged down the hall once outside your day room he stopped pressing a card to the reader next to the handle disarming the door and answered their qeustioning stares.

"Nothing just a temper tantrum im sure she will regret later when Boss finds out." He turned back to you.

"He might even make a show of it, i wouldnt mind seeing her bent over" you growled as he opend the door throwing you in , grunting as you landed hard on the floor he whistled for kal and let the dog enter behind you befor shutting the door arming the device again. Shaking away tears in your eyes as you heard then others laugh about how theyd love to see 'a piece of that ass' kal sat beside you nudging you for a cuddle you hugged him breathing deep nuzzling his thick fur, he was the only company you enjoyed here after snuggling with him a few minuets you pulled away putting your plan into action you got out suome supplies fro the art cupborads scattering them hear and there to make it look like you had been drawing, hopefully if anyone came in and found you missing they would assume that you had asked one of the others to let you use the bathroom as the ensuite to this room wasnt finished. You aproached the door pulling out the knife and lowered it to the door handle, the worst thing about this system was that you werent technically locked in, the door opend but set off an alarm that was indicated by a small red flashing light on the card reading panel. Breathing deep you pulled out a plaster removing the tabs on it sticking oneside to your finger. Gentle you pulled down on the handle until you couldnt anymore easing the knife alongside the door pushing on the plate you pivoted your body opeing the door enough to get your hand in the gap and stuck the plaster over the bottom of the pressure plate securing it down. Holding your breath you waited a few moments before summerizing that it had worked when noone came rushing down the hall you quickly slipped thrpugh the door catching kal befor he could make his way out and shut the door fully. You blinked then jumped for joy you could bearly see the edge of plaster on the frame. Quickly you jogged to the end of the hall ducking low realising that not having shoes might be a god send as you were almost silent as you moved you got another plaster ready on your hand as you ducked and dived behind the counters in the kitchen making your way around to the door Henry had left through.'it must have been to the garage' you though you made quick work of the door not waiting to see if the alarm had set off as you heard foot steps coming your way you slipped through the door closing it behinde you and ran down the stairs into a large garage on the left there was lots of hooks with keys on them you toke shaky breaths scanning them befor looking over the cars there must have been about eleven in total ranging from massive range rovers to calssy two seater sports cars. 'I need on that can blend in, a hatch back or somthing, maybe a saloon' you thought running down the line of cars the most normal looking one was a Jag you quickly ran to the keys looking for a set with the same logo as the car finding two you grabbed them both pushing unlock on one set seing another car across light up you threw them on the floor using the other one to unlock the car getting in quickly you felt your tummy tie itself in knots turning on the ignition and pulled the seat forward you put on your seatbelt out of habbit then dojng a small cheer when you saw it was an automatic you put it in drive wincing as it growled to life louder then it needed to be you pulled it up to the garage door and it opend you pulled it forward going up the bank once at the top you saw a gaurd stopping staring befor shouting out to the others.

"Dont let the gate open!!" You panicked and floored it the car took off down the drive skidding you a stop near the gate the instantly began rolling open. On gaurd was sprinting down the drive behinde you. You looked down for a button to look the doors finding it by the window controls you flicked it on and heard the click at all four doors locked lokking up you saw the gate had stopped half way you spun the wheel throwing the scar around squeezing the car throuh the gate clipping the wing mirror off in the process putting your foot down you gave a triumphant shout as you tore down the road away from that house. Leaning back into the seat relaxing as you made yourway towards the town, it was the only way to get to the motorway that would lead out of the area. You wiped tears from your eyes as as relief flooded you sobs wracked your body the drive to the town took longer than you thought it would and you were suspicious as no one had chased you from the house and had spent the whole drive flinching at every car that pulled up behind you. Pulling up to a round about you stopped recognising the area deciding to take a less busy route pulling off to the outskirts of town you parked up into a superstore looking threw the car for money finding a few £20 notes a tap at the window you screamed turning it was a police officer you gulped looking in the rearveiw mirror seeing a squad car pulled up behind you blocking you in, he indicated for you to roll down the window.

"Yes can i help you?" You asked trying to sound normal

"Miss did you realise your missing a wing mirror?" You followed his gaze and smiled meekly. Getting a bad feeling in your gut.

"Yes, its my boyfreids car i borrowed it and hit a sign back there im going to book it in now hopefully get it done and he wont find out i hurt his baby" you ended with a chuckle patting the steering wheel he didn't look convinced and motioned for his colleague to join him

"Uh huh, so are you insured to drive this car? Sure you didnt hit another car?" You shook your head

" Well i hope im insured he said hed made me a name driver and no i didnt hit anyone, the car caught me by suprize i hadnt realised how much oommf it had and still getting used to the size its a bit wider then mine." You explained hoping you were convincing enough he smiled the held out his hand to you.

"Can i see your licence?" You froze then pretended to look around the car for it

"Oh shit i dont have my bag on me sorry can i give you my name instead and you can look it up on the system?" You pleaded hoping that he would let this one go

"So you dont have your purse on you? When your taking his car to the garage to get it fixed?.... yeah im gonna have to ask you to step out of the car now." He said moving back from the door you looked behind you panicking there was no way to pull out.

"Wh-what? Why?" You cried out as he put his hand in the car opeing the door

"No! No you cant do this you dont understand please!" You shouted at him as he undid your seatbelt pulling you out of the car cuffing your hands behind your back reading you your rights.

"Your under arrest for car theft,careless driving and driving with out insurance , you have the right to remain silent anything you do say can harm your defence and used in court ,Call it in we found Mr cavills car" you froze, hed called in that his car had been stolen. He used the police to track you. You wailed twisting against him as you realised why no one had chased you, he was using the police to bring you back to him.you cried as he dragged you to the squad car.

"NO! You dont understand he kidnapped me! Please you have to let me go! He's mad he locked me up please you have to help me." You kicked out as he forced you into the back seat on the car slamming the door you sobbed in the back seat as they locked up the jag and got in the front of the car.

"Please do make me go back i dont know what he'll do" you cried pitifully they sighed looking at you threw the plexiglass.

"Im sorry love there's nothing we can do for you... i wish there was but its our asses on the line" then he started the car driving towards the station. It wasnt long befor you found yourself in a cell heavy metal door between you and your escape laying on the bed crying and terrified of whats to come. Panicking everytime you heard foot steps down the hall thinking it was him. It was over an hour later when you jumped as the heavy lock on your door opened with a loud bang revealing a calm looking Henry standing beside a sympathetic looking officer he shooed them away.

"Give us a minute" he didnt take his eyes off you as he stepped into the room seemed to take over the small space you shuddered backing away from him sending a pleading look to the officer who ingored you and left.

"Well pet have you got that out of your system now?" He said crossing the cell in large strides his suit jacket hung over one arm that was in his pocket. You shook your head crying

"Pl-please im sorry i-i had to" you flinched as he brought his hand to your face. Smoothing back your hair

"Sshhh shh its ok now everything is going to be fine" he calmed you pulling his outher hand up wiping your tears away before for twisting his fist in your hair you yelped clawing at his hand trying to relieve the pain in your scalp.

"You've been a very very naughty girl havent you?" He tugged your hair back forcing you to look at him still wiping your face with his other. It summed him up caring and kind yet brutal and cruel. He grinned a sadistic grin

"I should let you know that im not pressing charges, what kind of boyfreind would i be if i did?" He teased you letting you know he was told your cover story you cried in pain as he dragged you the few steps towards him forcing you onto your tip toes

"STOP! Please Henry your hurting me!" He tutted at you looking at his watch

"Three hours away from the house and were back to Henry? What happened to Daddy? Well it doesnt matter i hope now you realise that there is no escape. You cannot run or hide from me love i have eyes everywhere." He lowerd you back down releasing your hair clutching you to his chest trapping you in a strong grip as you sobbed shaking like a leaf more out of anxiety then anything else.

"Shh shh. its ok little one... i know its been a scary day getting out , nearly crashing into the gate and then being arrested? its all going to be ok, now that you've got this out of your system you can finally settle at home. Ihave been waiting for this little blow up from you i was beginning to think the gun fiasco was it" His words filled you with dread as you began to sink in this was it for you, that there was no way out, he would find you at some point. Rocking you backwards and forwards with your arms trapped at your side he tucked his nose into your hair kissing it every so often.

"Tho this is probably my fault it was enavitable for you to try and run again, i havent trained you properly yet, not givin you the attention you truly need, but dont worry we will start once we get home. I want you to know daddies not angry, no no he's just dissapointed" he pulled back draping his jacket over your shoulders.

"I hope you know that your still in serious trouble when we get home young lady i warned you this morning that youd regret playing up" he murmmerd into your ear as he walked you out of the cell down to the reception he didnt hold you because he didnt need to there was nowhere you could go.

"Mr cavill would you sign these ,I assume your not pressing charges?" Henry looked up winking at you

"No no my girlfriend couldnt help herself, she's like a child in that respect no self restraint. Never thinks of her consequences" You shuddered catching the his unspoken threat looking down as tears of humiliation the officer chuckled as Henry said this sighing his name

"Well she does look distraught, dont be to hard on the little thing I'd jump at the chance to drive one of those myself."

Henry laughed out loud drawing some attention from the others in the waiting room

"Oh dont you worry about her, she'll find a way to make it up to me somehow wont you babygirl" he said winding an arm around your waist pulling you against him squeezing his hand painfully tight. You looked down nodding hearing a few snickers and scoffs from women in seats behind you.

"Now apologize to the officer for wasting his time baby." You scowled up at him being met with a shit eating grin opening your mouth to tell him to fuck off thankfully you were interupted.

"Oh now thats not nessasary saving a tiny thing like her from herself isn't wasting time ..I'm glad I could help" Henry smiled at you kissing your cheek feeling please with himself.

"Now isnt that nice sweety. He's happy to help us" you gave a jerky nod as Henry finished the paperwork.

"I will have someone collect the car today" he called over his shoulder as he forced you along side him stopping before he got out of the door.

"Oh baby Wheres your shoes?" He asked smirking at you knowing damn well that he hasnt got you any, you felt the eyes of the other people on you as he shook his head picking you up cradling you recieveing a few awws and judgmental stares from the women. Unable to take it anymore you tucked your face into his neck crying.

"Im sorry please im so sorry i wont do anything like this again". He sighed pushing throught the doors and made his way to the car park climbing into the back or a range rover holding you in his lap as the car began moving.

"Its a little to late for sorry baby, daddy has to punish you for being an extremly naughty little girl. Stealing and damaging daddies car running away and getting arrested lying to the police? What kind of daddy would let you get away with all that?" You shuddered mind wandering what he had instore for you, not just for punishment but the training he mentioned in the cell you squirmed in his lap as you mulled it all over feeling sick to your stomach.

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fic #henry cavill smut #daddy henry cavill #mob boss henry cavill #henry cavill is daddy

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sabraeal · 4 years ago

Text

Rarely Pure & Never Simple, Chapter 7

Obiyukiweek 2020, Day 4: Free Day

The air still smells like freesia and vanilla as Shirayuki returns from her shower, scrubbed clean and with the thinnest pajamas she can muster. Even now the heat’s starting to settle on her skin, turning her post-shower dew into regular summer sweat, and oh, she needs to get that fan oscillating stat, before she stews in her own juices like some Shirayuki-flavored pulled pork.

She settles on the bed, flapping out a hand to turn it on and--

Ugh, it’s just...pushing hot air around, at this point. Maybe if she’s sweats through another set of pajamas tonight, she’ll be able to convince Nanna she needs an AC unit in her window.

(Her room-- back when it was her mother’s-- had a unit, but after an unfortunate incident that involved her father, a thwarted clandestine encounter, and a hole in the garage roof, the replacement instead went into the kitchen, where it’s lived every summer until it malfunctioned and froze to the sill. Grandad’s replaced it since, but still-- it’s never returned to her window. Of all the sins of her mother Shirayuki’s had to answer for, this one is hands down the worst.

“Really?” Obi laughs, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the hem of his shirt. She sees the barest hint of abdominals and suddenly, the orientation packet isn’t half as engaging as it was before. “Not the whole...’grandparents convinced their first great grandchild will pop out before graduation’ thing?”

“To be fair,” she manages, breath thin as the worn fabric drops back over her current distraction. “The point was pretty much moot until, um...”

Oh, that-- that grin is trouble. “Until you climbed on top of me and made me come hard enough to go blind?”

He really, really doesn’t need to say it like-- like that. “S-something like that.”)

She’s ready to just call it a day at this point-- and nearly does. Rolling up onto her side, she reaches for the cord to her lamp--

Buzz. Buzz.

Shirayuki blinks. That’s...that’s her phone.

She’s tempted to ignore it-- she does not need Kihal speculating about what her and Obi could get up to in the woods “all unsupervised” tomorrow, and Obi should still--

9:12, her phone reads. His shift at the club is over, and by now he’s probably--

Home. Texting her.

Shirayuki nearly drops her phone straight down the crack between her bed and nightstand, and oh jeez, it would be nice if she could just...calm down for once. Be cool.

It buzzes again. She yelps, trying to flick the screen on with a wild shake. She can save being cool for another day. One where she’s seen him more than once in two weeks.

hey, the text reads, nestled in its innocuous gray bubble, we should talk

Shirayuki experiences something that could medically be called an event. Is he upset? Has she done something--?

not a bad talk, he clarifies, just miss you

She rolls onto her back with a smile, thumbs poking at the screen to say, i miss you t--

mebbe a sexy talk tho ;3 i *rlly* miss u

is that for the sexy or the bad grammar

Both.

She catches the call on the first ring, barely having time for a breath before Obi drawls, “You weren’t complaining about sexy things two weeks ago.”

With all the dignity of a mathlete champion, Shirayuki replies, “Hnn?”

(”Eek!” She yanks the controller up, to the side, anywhere that might help move her character away from giant beetle on the screen. “How do I--? Where do I--?”

Obi’s chest makes a hollow thunk when she rams into it. He coughs; it takes her a full, frantic second to realize it’s to cover a laugh.

“You know,” he murmurs, plucking the controller out of her hands, “joycons don’t have motion sensors.”

“I don’t know,” she returns primly, folding her legs back down over the edge of the bed. “And also you told me this game was easy.”

“Rune Factory is easy.” His mouth twitches. “Half the game is farming.”

“And the other half is fighting...whatever those things are.” She waves at the screen, scowling at the RETRY? stamped across it. “Which is hard.”

“It’s not,” He leans back, setting the controller on his nightstand. “You could even say...”

His arm hooks around her waist, dragging her on top of him. “...It’s as easy as I am.”

Her breath rasps out of her, and oh god, she can feel his dick pressing up against her thigh, so hard already. “You’re not making me feel very accomplished.”

“Well,” his fingernails scrape up the back of her legs, “we can fix that.”)

“You were very enthusiastic,” he remarks casually, “from what I remember.”

“Mm, well.” Two could play at this game...maybe. “It was two weeks ago.”

She may not be able to see him, but she can feel his grimace through the wire. Or well, the air? Wifi? Shirayuki wasn’t really up on how phones worked past the Edison era. It’s not like they ask how cell phones work on the SATs.

“Sorry,” he sighs, pillow audibly whumping over the receiver. “I know I warned you, but I really thought we’d have had more time to talk.”

“It’s okay.” She squirms against her sheets, fighting a shrug he can’t see. “I...I missed you, but I know how much the hours mean to you.”

“I missed you too.” His voice is so soft, so vulnerable, so unlike the boy who made her miss auditions a year ago. “I’m glad we’ll see each other tomorrow.”

“Me too,” she breathes, and oh, it doesn’t seem soon enough. Not when she wants to wrap her arms around him, lay her head on his chest and just listen to him breathe. “You could--”

Come over. Her teeth snap down on the offer. Sure, it’d be nothing for him to hop up to the garage roof, for her to leave the window open--

But that’s how she got here, and nope, no. Not happening.

“--come pick me up tomorrow?” she squeaks out instead, cheeks burning. There’s no way he won’t know she meant something else, that she was avoiding--

“What? Don’t want to be smooshed in the backseat of Big Guy’s swagger wagon?” She can hear the smirk on his lips. “I thought you were looking forward to it.”

“I don’t think Mitsuhide would appreciate you calling his minivan that,” she informs him primly, not a laugh in sight. It’s a feat only achieved by the judicious application of her teeth to her cheeks. “And I was! I mean, I am. It’s just...”

“Big Guy gives priority seating based on height?”

Well, that’s definitely part of it. With all five of them, she’s always left in the back seat, alone, and Obi--

“Gotta say, looking forward to all that leg room,” he drawls, “and getting an airbag all to myself. You think he’ll let me at the aux cable?”

“Never.”

“Aww.” Shirayuki knows he’s pouting; a full-on, little kid lip wibble. “You’re my girlfriend, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“You know what you did.” A two hour meme mix on the way to Laxdo. “Besides, I just thought it would be better if we, um, had some time to ourselves. Before.”

“Oh?” he hums, so curious, and-- oh, it doesn’t usually take him this long to pick up on when she’s trying to, um, tell him something. “I figured you wouldn’t mind since we’d have all day-- oh.” There it is. “You mean alone.”

“W-well, it’s been two weeks,” she hedges nervously. “And I’m not saying I couldn’t, um, behave--”

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up.” The words come out fast, pinched. Maybe she’s being too pushy; Obi likes to tease, but that doesn’t mean he’s always in the mood to-- “I’m definitely not going to be able to keep my hands to myself.”

“O-oh.” Well. That’s hitting different tonight. Maybe because it’s already over ninety, and her temp is climbing with it. Or maybe because she’s only wrapped up in the thinnest, most barely-there clothes she has; the kind he could rip like tissue paper--

Or maybe because it’s been two weeks, and despite going eighteen years without needing any sexual contact, she’s as tragically hard up as a teen comedy protagonist.

“I didn’t know you were...in a bind.” His voice drops to a rumble, and ah, that is not helping the situation. Her thighs slip against each other, trying to dull the ache. “You know I’m always happen to lend a hand when you need it, kid.”

“It not that bad,” she murmurs, but it’s starting to get there the longer he talks. The more she thinks about him showing up tomorrow, just them alone in her house-- “And you didn’t have time to come over.”

“I don’t need to come over.” He’s laughing, but there’s something in it that’s more, that’s almost a purr. “Come on, kid, I gave you those earphones for a reason. Hands free.”

“O-oh.” She’s all too aware of them now, clipped over her ears. Her hand’s only holding the screen out of habit. Hands free.

“I mean, if you’re really hard up,” he hums, “we could do something about it now. Take the edge off.”

She-- she shouldn’t. “Obi! You don’t really mean...?”

“Absolutely. I’d really like to--” his voice cracks,and oh, oh-- “it’s been so long since I made you come, babe.”

(”Well, that’s the last vote for Dreamiest Hair,” Shirayuki sighs, her flyaways dancing at the edge of her vision. “What’s the next category?”

Kihal glances down and grins. “Sexiest Voice.”

She gapes. “Is Mrs Gazalt really going to let us give out an award for that?”

“Mrs Gazalt takes her position of club supervisor very seriously,” Kihal informs her, “and by that I mean, she sits in the corner playing Words with Friends and just lets us do what we want, as long as it isn’t dangerous. Or illegal.”

“Still.” Her mouth pulls tight, a grim line across her face. If the rest of the club could see her now, her Cutest Smile win would be revoked. “That seems, I don’t know...”

“Like it wouldn’t be a contest? I know.” Kihal shrugs. “But that’s what the freshmen picked. I guess they’re just really hoping Obi will growl through his whole acceptance speech.”

“No, I-- wait, Obi?” Her mouth is dry suddenly. She crosses her legs beneath the table. “Why would--? Obi?”

Kihal rolls her eyes. “Oh come on, you’ve heard him over the headset. He’s got that whole like, gravel thing going on. And when he gets heated with someone, like that time with Raj, hoo--” she fans herself-- “I know you have a thing for Zen, but like, I still don’t know how you didn’t jump him.”

Her cheeks burn, painfully. “I-I don’t-- that’s not--”

“Come on, Shirayuki,” she clucks, rolling her eyes. “You have ears. That couldn’t have done nothing for you.”

At the time she’d been so mortified that Raj had not only followed her to the place that was supposed to be her escape, but that he’d brought up what happened, like it didn’t even bother him--

Well, sex had been the last thing on her mind. At least the actual, arousing kind. But now, now--

Listen, I’m sure you have a lot to say but I really can’t-- his voice breaks, and the phantom pressure of his fingers weighs on her lips-- I was supposed to have your back, and I fucked up. I know it doesn’t make up for what happen but I-- his breath rasps from his throat, so raw that hers hurts in sympathy-- I’m sorry.

--she gets it.

“Right, um--” it’s hard to think with her face so hot-- “we should still count the votes anyway.”)

(He wins in a landslide. His acceptance speech at the drama banquet is so suggestive that he ends up with half a dozen panties shoved into his pockets. They tumble out of his jacket when he leans over the console to kiss her, right over the stick shift and onto her lap.

What am I gonna do with a bunch of ladies underwear? he’d murmured against her lips, fingers toying at the strap of her gown, earning her own personal vote. You need any, kid?)

“O-okay.”

“Wha-what?” She winces at the loud bang over the speakers, followed by a softer, more distant “Fuck.”

“Ah, is everything--?”

“Fine,” Obi assures her, sounding like maybe some of his limbs are out of order. “Just...dropped my phone. I didn’t...are you sure?”

Her fingers clench in her sheets. “Yes. I just...don’t really know how to start.”

“Well.” His voice drops playfully low. “Are you in the position?”

“Is the position laying down?” she asks, nervous. “Because I’m laying down.”

He tries to smother it, but she would know his laugh anywhere. “Yeah, great. Good. You’re ready?”

Shirayuki squirms against her pillow, legs rubbing together so hard they should chirp, like some sort of horny cricket. “I guess...”

Obi doesn’t hide his laugh now, just lets it rumble out from his chest in a way that is...not helping. Or maybe it is, considering the whole...situation. “You guess?”

“I just--” am terrified-- “don’t understand.”

He grunts, and by the sound of rustling in her ears, gets comfortable. “What’s holding you up?”

Everything. “It’s better if we just wait isn’t it? I mean to do this, um...”

In person. With someone who knows how to touch her, instead of her fumbling around and showing just how bad at all this sexy stuff she can be.

“This involves sexy talking, doesn’t it?” If distress is a destination, then she’s already laid out a lawn chair and ordered a drink from the cabana. She’s hopeless when her speeches are planned and PG, let alone when she’s trying to improv and it’s about-- about-- “Do I have to talk about penises?”

He makes an ungodly noise. “Kid.”

“I just don’t think I have the experience to talk about them with any sort of authority,” she presses on, brain undaunted by how ridiculous she sounds. “Especially if I’m also supposed to be doing...other things. It’s really--”

“Shirayuki--” he says her name so soft, so fond, and she knows, she knows-- “you should learn how to do it yourself, too.”

--that he’s seen right through her.

“I don’t see why,” she mumbles stubbornly, fidgeting with the hem of her shorts. “You’re going to Lyrias too. Your room is in the building next door, and it’s connected to mine! I don’t really think I need to learn how to-- to--” she whines, the words sticking in her throat-- “this!”

“Kid.” He heaves a sigh, and even though she’s dying from the mortification of Being Known, it sends shivers right through her. “Just because you’re subscribed to Sexy Culinary School Weekly with Obi doesn’t mean you shouldn’t know how to cook on your own.”

“You magazine needs to work on its name.”

“Yeah, let me just go workshop it with Princess Prettymane and Calico Dog.”

“It’s duchess.”

“You know that doesn’t make it better, right?” he deadpans. “Princess Prettymane at least has alliteration. Also,” his voice lilts, playful, “you’re trying to change the subject. Which is cute, and really makes me want to kiss you until you worry that we’re going to ruin another pair of tights, but--”

“I’m not wearing tights right now.”

His jaw snaps shut.

“See,” he manages after a long moment, hoarse, “that is a very distracting thing to say.”

The gravel in his voice scrapes at an itch she didn’t know she had, heat painting a searing line down her spine. She’s already slick from sweat, but this adds another texture to it, one that’s growing more insistent by the second.

“And very confusing.” She doesn’t know what it says that even his complaints are doing it for her. “Since a few seconds ago, you weren’t sure if you could talk sexy, and now you’re telling me all sorts of things.”

“I was just...informing you. Of the situation.” Her nails pluck nervously at her waistband. “It’s summer, so, um, no tights.”

“Oh right,” he breathes, wry, “just setting the scene.”

“You know,” she tries again, too shrill, “I’m really fine with how you do it. I don’t really think-- I mean, is it really necessary that I have to--?”

“Kid, you’re the one that said okay,” he reminds her. “You don’t have to do anything. It’s just better for you if you know what you like. That way if you...”

His breath rasps from his throat. “...You should know what you like, separate from, ah, someone else.”

It’s a nice wrapping job he’s done on this baggage, but even with only a year under her belt, she knows what the tag on this one says. “I’m not going to go to college and suddenly not want you anymore, Obi.”

“I know that,” he says, but he doesn’t, not really. Obi doesn’t really talk much about before, about all the girls he’s snuck into his room or met at a party or whatever, but he thinks that all this, this whole wanting to put Tab A into Slot B thing, is the default. That you meet someone and maybe you talk a little and then bingo-bango-bongo, you know if you want to get on a horizontal surface with them.

He doesn’t get that this, for her, isn’t her normal. If Zen hadn’t been kind to her that first day, if he hadn’t helped Kihal with her Brecker problem, if the rumors surrounding them hadn’t whipped up to a fevered pitch so even she couldn’t ignore them-- well, Shirayuki wouldn’t have even been thinking about romance.

So the fact that she can look at him and feel like she’s walked into the country club’s sauna with her school clothes on-- that different. That’s special. That’s not going to just happen with someone she meets in an 8AM lecture.

If only she were as good with word things as her English grades suggested she should be, she’d be to tell him that.

“This isn’t about...” Obi lets out a disgruntled huff. “Listen, I know I definitely had some inspired ideas about what you would like from...before--”

(She’s still panting as she comes down, tremors zipping up and down her spine, “How did you...?”

Obi smiles, a wide Cheshire Cat grin. Fitting, since she definitely feels like she’s been dragged down the rabbit hole. “How did I what, kid?”

“Know to do that. With my hips,” She smooths her palms over where he’d grabbed them. They ache; it wouldn’t surprise her if she had hand-shaped bruises slapped across them tomorrow.

“Oh, I thought you’d like that.” Obi curls into her side, too pleased. He’s hard against her hip, but-- she likes it. “When I caught you coming off that ladder, you made that little hiccuppy noise, so I figured...pretty sensitive right?”

She stares.

He blinks. “What, did I say something--?”

“Obi” she manages, “that was four months ago.”)

“But if you knew what you liked...” She doesn’t need to see him to know there’s a feral smile stretching across his face. “I could do much better.”

Oh, that sounds...nice. She shifts, and she-- she leaks, thick slick coating the tops of her thighs.

“Besides, if we’re going to bring toys into the equation,” he continues, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb in the middle of the conversation, “you should know what makes you feel good without any electronic intervention, if you know what I mean.”

Ah, she-- she definitely does.

“Toys?” she squeaks. “I don’t-- I don’t remember any, um, toy talk.”

Obi hums, amused. “Well, I did promise you a good graduation gift.”

“You--you already gave me one!” Her hand skips up to run over the smooth plastic. “I’m using it right now!”

“Mm.” He’s too pleased with himself, like he’s caught her scent on the air from all the way across town. “But you won’t need them much at school. So...”

“I won’t need t-that at school either!” She’s glad she’s got these headphones; her cheeks would be making her phone’s screen go haywire. “I’ll have you, and I’m very, um, happy with your performance. I don’t think we need to add, um, props.”

“As chuffed as I am to have you appreciating my prowess, kid--” oh he’s going to be unlivable after this, she can just tell-- “that’s all the more reason to have something in the wings to mix it up. Especially since we’re waiting t-to--” he stumbles, voice dropping to a murmur-- “I mean, since we both want to, um...”

He’s so tortured trying to talk about it without actually talking about it that she takes pity on him. “Since I’m afraid of penises, but we both like to touch each other.”

“I mean, since we’re waiting to have sex,” he manages, pained. “Or at least, the kind that involves dicks and, ah, going places.”

She’s been around him too long, because without even missing a beat, she claps back, “Oh, I didn’t realize yours was having its own hero journey.”

“It has certainly felt a Call to Adventure,” he mumbles, “and a Woman as a Temptress.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, a Meeting with the Goddess,” he amends, quick enough that she grins. “And once again, you’re trying to distract me. Though I thought it would more like ‘clothes I am missing’ instead of ‘Campell’s seventeen stages thesis.’“

“I’m sticking to what I know,” she tells him primly. “But I suppose I could tell you that, um, I’m not wearing a bra?”

He grunts, gutted. “Ohh, you are really just trying to make this difficult.” He adds, a little waspish, “All this trouble better be working for you, because it’s definitely working for me.”

“Oh, are you--” she swallows, hoping he can’t hear it-- “did you really want to try that?”

“Ah, I mean...” His breath comes sharp, short. “Yeah. If you would like to.”

Her breath catches. “I haven’t really, um...”

Done this. Ever. It would be so easy to say it, but it’s just-- belaboring the point. He knows. He just...thinks she’s a much better student than she is. At least about things like this.

“Listen, I haven’t...” He hesitates, and she realizes-- he’s embarrassed. “This isn’t something I’ve done with anyone before. You know I’m not really anyone’s...long term option.”

Grandad always says that she shoots from the cuff-- a nice way of saying doesn’t think before talking-- but she doesn’t regret it, not one bit, when she blurts out, “You’re mine.”

Obi’s breath rasps into the speaker. “Y-yeah. I know.” With a swallow, he adds, “And I know you think I have a lot of experience, but there’s a lot out there to try, and I haven’t even brushed the surface of it, you know? And I just thought, knowing you, knowing how curious you are...”

She blinks. “You mean...you’ve never been with someone long enough to, um, explore?”

“Ah, plenty of people would pick up Sexy Culinary Weekly up off the rack, but um--” he huffs out a laugh, soft and self-deprecating-- “you’d be the first to pick up a subscription.”

Shirayuki doesn’t like to pry, but for a good long moment, she considers asking for a list with some names. Just to talk, of course.

She takes a deep breath instead, trying to focus. “So you want to-- to explore with me?”

“If you want to,” he’s quick to say. “I know all of this is...new. I just thought since we won’t be doing a, ah, traditional progression here--”

“Traditional?”

He sighs. “You know, the uh, porn formula. Fingering, hand job, blow job, eating--”

“OKAY,” she yelps, clapping a hand to her face. “I get it!”

“Right, well, there’s a lot between what we’re doing and PIV.” She nearly giggles at how he says it, piv, like it’s a word and not an acronym. It's almost...cute. Like an adorable monster she could get a plushie of, instead of something that involved penises and could make her pregnant.

“And since we’re not doing any of that soon,” he continues, “we could, ah...take the scenic route. And maybe that would be a little less intimidating for you, since we’d both be new at...whatever we’re doing, instead of feeling like you had to catch up.”

Her heart flutters, and the warmth in her gut spreads up to her chest. “I think you’re mixing metaphors.”

“Sorry, I can’t think of cooking puns for everything,” he deadpans. “Think of it as not having to rush to read back issues, I guess.”

She hums. “I think you’re asking me to help with recipe development.”

“Well, if we’re going to embark on culinary adventures together--” he presses, voice bubbling like he’s trying to keep down a laugh. Several, if she’s anything to go by-- “then you should be comfortable with what your body likes before we add any...additional ingredients. You have to learn to do it the right way before we do it the easy way.”

“Oh,” she breathes. Obi was definitely starting to have a point about doing all this now. “Like New Math.”

“Wow, kid,” he deadpans, “really getting right down to the dirty talk.”

She flushes. Good thing he can’t see her. “I-I thought that was your job.”

He laughs, a rumble she feels right down to her bones. “You’re right. What are you wearing?”

She coughs. “Really?”

“I’m trying to set the scene,” he informs her, far too innocent. “This is a delicate shared fantasy we’re making. Wouldn’t want you to get thrown out of it because I mention panties and you’re wearing boyshorts.”

“I’m not wearing underwear,” she blurts out. “Wearing it overnight increasing the chance of yeast infections.”

Ah, there it is: the regret. It would be nice if she could just...not be like this. If she could just think through what she says when she’s nervous, instead of talking about diseased vaginas with her boyfriend while he’s trying to...make love at her, or whatever.

Now she has to contend with this endless silence, wishing that her mortification would at least dampen her desire even a little. Heaven knows they wouldn’t doing any recipe development tonight, after that. “O-obi?”

“Sorry, I just--” his throat makes a hollow thunk that echoes over the line-- “I got distracted.”

She blinks. “By what?”

“Thinking about how much I want to be there,” he admits, “and what I’d do to you if I was.”

“O-oh.” Maybe some culinary adventure wasn’t...so off the table as she thought. “A-and what would that be?”

A strangled groan tears between them. “I want to eat you out so bad.”

That-- that was not what she’d thought he’d say. “Really?”

“Yeah.” His sigh is strained. “You make such good noises.”

“You like it?” Her thighs clench, and oh, she wishes she knew what to do about it. “I figured it would taste...weird.”

Not that she’s ever tried. But she’s tasted blood (too coppery, bad texture), and well, boogers (too salty; thanks, childhood), and she can’t imagine that can taste much better.

“No,” he hums. “You taste just right. Are you touching yourself yet?”

There’s no way to explain she’s just been rating bodily fluids on a scale of most to least appetizing, so she settles with, “N-no.”

Now that he’s mentioned it, now that he’s reminded her that her body isn’t just some inconvenient appendage for her brain, Shirayuki can’t forget that it’s there. And she certainly can’t ignore the heat between her legs, or the way her skin feels as sensitive as flash paper, ready to burn up at a moment’s notice.

“You should do that,” he tells her, just short of a command, and ah, yeah, that’s sounding like a better and better idea every second. “What are you wearing?”

She’s out of cutesy stalling tactics. Or at least, she can’t think of any, not when her vagina seems to have a pulse of its own. “A tank top. And pajama shorts.”

“Sounds cute,” he breathes. “Put your hand down them.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice. Pubic hair crinkles under the tips of her fingers, scratchy against her palm. It’s wet too, tangling when she tries to slide further down so she just..doesn’t. “What now?”

“What do you usually do?”

He’s panting just the barest bit, and the sound of him already so undone is what spurs her to admit, “I, um, usually don’t do anything.”

“But you’ve tried before.” She should have never told him that. “What did you do then?”

“I, um--” she licks her lips, nervous-- “put my fingers inside?”

“Right away?” He laughs, and it’s fond, gentle. “No wonder you’ve never gotten much of anywhere. How about you just cup yourself now.”

She does. Little hairs wrap themselves around her fingers, coming loose, and oh, those always refuse to wash off later, clinging to her with the same tenacity as glitter. It’s comforting to feel weight there, at least, even if it clearly isn’t Obi’s. Still, it’s...vaguely unpleasant.

“I don’t feel much,” she reports, trying not to let her frustration leak through. Maybe she just isn’t cut out for masturbation.

“You wouldn’t,” he confirms, “you need to part your lips first.”

She nearly does, until she thinks better of it. “What does that have to do with--?”

“Not your mouth.” He’s barely covering a laugh. “Your other lips.”

“O-oh.” Of course. That makes...more sense.

Her fingers splay, parting her flesh, and ahh, there is...a lot more of her than she remembers. She’s read about lips blooming like flowers before-- mostly in the books Nanna likes to read-- but nothing had ever...blossomed down there for her before. But it’s definitely all petals and sepals now, if things like that were made out of flesh. She saw something like that once, on one of those Syfy shows her grans liked to watch when she was a kid--

She jolts as something slaps her hard, right on the breast, and oh, she’s-- she’s forgotten she’s still holding the phone. Or at least, she was. Now her hand is boneless, empty, and her screen has belly-flopped right onto her boob.

“Oh, um, wait.” She fumbles with it, one-handed, trying to find some place to put it. “I need to--I need to put down my phone.”

He hums, bemused. “Two hands would help.”

Shirayuki’s definitely struggling with one, that’s for sure. Her bedside table is too far for her headphones to reach without tugging; the bed itself is just asking for her to squirm her way to an End Call. She’s stuck discovering all this with one hand plastered in between her thighs, dipping between her vulva in a way that can only be termed distracting.

By the time she settles it on her pillow, far enough away to avoid any mishap via cheek smooshing, she’s practically panting. Maybe she needs to take up a sport at Lyrias; Mathletes clearly isn’t cutting it.

“Okay,” she sighs, dropping back onto her bed. “Now I’m ready. I am parting my...myself. What’s next?”

“Are you wet?”

Well, if she wasn’t before, she certainly is now. “I, um, think so?”

“All right.” His bed groans, like he’s shifting on it, and oh, how she wishes she knew what he looked like now. “Just start sliding your fingers around. You know where your clit is, right?”

“Yes,” she manages, squirming as she rubs at her folds. “I’ve seen a diagram before.”

He laughs, a low rumbling chuckle that sends a shiver down her spine, and yeah, she can take a real good guess at where her clit might be. “Don’t touch it.”

Her fingers still. “Why not?”

“You’re sensitive,” he tells her, so casual. “You get squirmy when I touch it directly. I mean, feel free to try...maybe you’re a lighter touch than I am. You could like it.”

She’s about to balk-- if it doesn’t feel good when he does it, she’s not going to do any better-- when his voice drops and he adds, “Tell me if you do.”

Well, let it not be said that Shirayuki doesn’t believe in science. Which is the reason she’s doing this. Hypothesis testing. Not because her boyfriend asked in a ridiculously sexy way.

With a steeling breath, she swipes her clit with the pad of her finger and-- y i k e s.

She grits her teeth, nerves still jangling. “Um, yeah, that didn’t feel great.”

“Too bad.”

With a sigh, she stretches her neck, hoping to get that raised-hackles feel out of it and-- oh.

Rum Tum stares down at her with his glassy black eyes, mouth stitched into its permanent smile. That’s really...not helping.

“Um.” Duchess Prettymane is next to him, head tilted in question. Calico Dog is definitely just...judging her. “Give me one second.”

With her free hand, she turns each of her stuffies around, placing them in a line on her window sill. They don’t need to see any of this.

“Okay.” She settles back into her pillows. “So I definitely don’t touch that. I just...touch around it?”

“Yeah,” he huffs out, amused. “But no rubbing! Long strokes, just barely brushing it, both fingers, one on either side.” She can hear his grin when he adds, “You like to be teased.”

She wants to protest that; she nearly does, but--

Her fingers skid over her folds, tracing just around the lip of her slit, stopping just shy of her clit, and-- mm, all right, he, ah, definitely has a point. This feels much better.

Still, she’s so used to Obi’s touch; he lingers in all the right places, calluses catching on her clit in a way that makes her writhe. Her own fingers are too tiny and her movements too awkward. She’s too wet too; as much as it’s definitely helping with the, um, sensations she’s feeling, controlling her fingers makes her feel like a contestants on one of those Japanese game shows. Just when she thinks she’s gotten it, when she’s starting to build to something interesting if not good--

“How is it?”

She nearly nicks herself with a nail. “Better when you do it.”

“Ah, I see,” he hums. “A pillow princess--”

Shirayuki has absolutely no idea what that means, but she knows she’s being teased. “No--!”

A thunk stops her mid-thought. Her hand snaps away from her shorts. “Did you hear that?”

“Kid--”

She eyes the door warily. “Do you think it’s Nanna?”

Obi smothers a chuckle. “I’m pretty sure that was just your phone.”

“No, I put it behind my--” she looks down, and oh yes, there it is, right on the floor.

“Oh,” she breathes, mortified. “Oh. Right. Just, um, give me a minute.”

It’s a tricky proposition trying to fish it off the floor. For one, her bed is high and her arms are short-- oh, she was so committed to the whole fairy bower aesthetic of lofting her bed when she was twelve, but now it’s really inconvenient-- and for another, one hand is contaminated with, um, juices, and though she doesn’t want to smear any of that all over her phone--

Well, wiping it on the sheets is a bad decision. Nanna’s nose is sharp, and if there’s one conversation she doesn’t want to happen, it’s why does you bed smell like sex, Shirayuki? She’s done well not getting grounded so far, despite the number of times Obi’s been caught shirtless in her room, but she knows better than to try to test her grandmother’s patience on it.

Shirayuki drops to her belly, elbow digging into the mattress to ground her. Her finger are just long enough to brush the screen--

“Hey kid,” Obi sighs, “do you actually want to do this?”

She yelps. Only a quickly placed hand keeps her from meeting her carpet face first. She does have her phone though. “What?”

“I thought that this was going to be fun and sexy, but now...” He grunts, uneasy. “It seems like I might forcing you, and that’s really not what I wanted to happen. If you don’t want--”

“NO! I mean,” she manages, throwing herself back on her bed, “you have a point. Even though I prefer you touching me by lot--”

Obi hums, too smug.

“--we can’t always make the time to, um, do that.” It’s be nice if the bed could just swallow her whole right now, put her out of her misery, but-- she wants this. She wants him, and part of that is having terrible conversations that make her feel like a five alarm fire in a fireworks factory. “And if we’re having trouble just a few houses away, I’m sure we’ll find a way to have it when you’re only a few doors down too. Which is fine, it’s not like I have to, um...”

He makes a noise, intrigued, and oh, she really hates how badly she does want to keep this boyfriend. If only she liked him less, then she wouldn’t have to talk about any of this at all.

“I just mean, sometimes I think about you when we can’t be together--”

“Sometimes?”

“You know what I mean,” she snips, annoyed. “Sometimes I think about you in a specific way and I get a little, um, stuck. And that can be frustrating. So it’s probably better that I learn this now, than--

“Wait.” He’s breathless, unfocused. “Are you telling me you’ve been all...stuck lately?”

“N-no!” That is really not what she wants to be talking about right now. “I mean, a-a little? Kind of.”

She can hear the rush of his breath through his nose, his long thoughtful pause--

“Do you need some inspiration?” He’s eager, voice tight and nearly winded. “Purely above the waist, of course.”

It occurs to her that he means pictures; pictures of the adult variety. The yes leaps to her lips, but oh, what if Nanna saw it, and--

“Here, one sec.”

He’s not joking; barely a second later her phone buzzes, snapchat informing her that Obi has a new photo. She frowns, flicking open the app, and -- oh. Yes. That was. Definitely not there a few moments ago.

He’s naked from the waist up, lounging in a pair of gym shorts, his legs spread wide where he sits, and-- “Are you, um...?”

“Hot?” he growls playfully. “For you, yeah.”

“Hard,” she blurts out, since she never misses an opportunity to make a fool of herself. It would be nice if her curiosity could take a vacation for a day or two. Give her skin a break.

“Oh. Um. Yeah,” he grunts. “I mean, I’m trying to get you off, and I’m think about touching you. Sort of...a natural response.”

“But you aren’t touching yourself?”

“We hadn’t really talked about that,” he murmurs shyly. “This is supposed to be about you. I didn’t want to get distracted.”

“Ah...” That place between her legs throbs. She snakes a hand under her waistband, and oh, they’ve barely lost any ground at all. “You should.”

“W-what?”

“Touch yourself,” she tells him, running her fingers over her folds. “I think it would help.”

“Oh.” She might as well have hit him for the way that bursts out of him. “I didn’t--”

“I can give you inspiration too.” She whips off her tank before she can think better of it, struggling when she realizes, no, one hand will definitely not be enough to get the job done--

And then it’s nothing to take a picture, or to send it. A few taps and he’s choking, “Did-- did you mean to send this to me?”

It’s then that it strikes her: she just sent a naked picture to her boyfriend. Well, a half naked picture, but for what he could see she might as well have done the whole thing.

“Oh, is that-- is that okay?” She drags her safe hand over her face, sweat clinging to her palm. “I should have checked--”

“Yes!” he pants, half wild. “Yes, this is okay, Very, very okay. I just...you really want me to use this? For, uh, jacking off?”

“Could you?”

“Haah,” he breathes. “Yes. God, your breasts are so good, babe. And your face...”

“Then yes.” She licks her lips, nervous. “Please.”

“I don’t really need the help,” he warns, “I’m a real pro at this.”

“I want you to.” She doesn’t know how she says it without even a stutter. The thought of him touching himself like that, knowing that he’s thinking of her, just her-- “I want you to touch your-- you--”

“Really, kid, you don’t have to--”

“Cock.”

Just saying it shakes her up like a soda can, ready to burst, and she almost wishes she could take it back, that she could unsay half this conversation-- until he groans; the frantic slide of clothes loud from his end of the phone.

“What do you-- what should I--?”

He sounds so lost, his words hardly above a whine, and that’s the only reason she’s able to say, “I want you to, um, stroke it?”

“Yeah, I am-- I am already there, babe,” he assures her, voice throaty and strained. “You’re touching yourself too, right? You’re wet?”

“Y-yeah.” She slides her hand under the band, and ah, she hadn’t know it was possible to be wetter, that her thighs could be slick nearly to the edge of her shorts, but here she is. “I like hearing you. I-I mean...after graduation, when we went to the field, I--” she licks her lips, mouth so dry-- “I really wanted to hear you come again.”

“Jesus. Fuck.” His mattress creaks, distressed. “That was-- that was two months ago. You could have just--” he hisses, so sensitive-- “god, I would have come for you anytime.”

“Could you?” It comes out coyer than she expects, far too confident to sound like her, and she nearly apologizes, until he-- he--

He whimpers.

“If I asked really nice,” she hums, fingers skating along her folds, clit pulsing with how much she wants this, wants him. “Could you come for me again?”

He groans, pained. “Y-yeah. I could definitely arrange something.”

“Now?”

“Shit. Fuck.” He moans, but it trails off into a laugh. “Definitely won’t take long if you keep this up.”

“Good,” she sighs, pace quickening, her fingers daring to loop ever closer to the crux of her problem. “I want to hear you. It’s been so long...”

She hesitates. Obi is always the one to tease, and her the one that squirms away, the one that needs to be cajoled back into the scene, but now--

Well, the shoe is on the other foot isn’t it. “It’s been so long,” she says again, only this time she lets her voice go breathy, lets it linger on the cusp of whine. “Don’t make me wait, Obi...”

He doesn’t.

“Fuck,” is the only word he manages before he’s groaning, whimpering, making every sexy sound he can at once as he comes hard.

“Haah,” he moans, breath heaving. “That was-- that was definitely not how I expected this call to go.”

Shirayuki stills her fingers, mouth slanting into a smirk. She’d always wondered how Obi could watch her orgasm and not want to do it himself, not need to do it when she’s dying every time, but-- now she gets it. She may not have come, but there’s something supremely satisfying in watching-- no, listening to him fall apart instead.

“Oh?” She still sounds coy. Like Obi does every time she goes half-blind from the force of her own climax.

“You didn’t come, did you?” He’s put out, and she can tell his eyebrows are drawn, that his jaw is set. “I could--”

“No, no, don’t worry about me,” she assures him. “I’m fine. Besides, we have to get up tomorrow.”

“Ah, fuck, right. Senior Day.” He sighs. “All right, fine. But next time--”

“Next time,” she agrees. “Though I really enjoyed this time too.”

He makes a noise that sounds like dying. “Yeah, well, that’s great, but I’m not the one who needs to learn how to get off like a champ. But whatever,” he sighs, “we have all the time in the world for you to get it.”

Her chest warms, and she smiles against her pillow. “Right. I’ll see you tomorrow? Bright an early?”

He groans. “Yeah, yeah. Bright and early. Good night, kid.”

#obiyukiweek20 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #lemon #my fic #rarely pure and never simple #listen this originally was supposed to run parallel to zen and kihal's B-side #BUT HERE WE ARE #this little opener turning into a whole fic in itself #but i promise #NEXT TIME IS SENIOR DAY

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thenixkat · 5 years ago

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Animorphs notes: 18

Book 18

Narrated by Aximili

Again I really wish something had come of the andalite traitors thing

Ax’s audience is other andalites

Leera’s like the only planet besides Earth to get an actual name in this joint

Andalites don’t use money

Ax is tryin g to work to get money to buy food

Ax needs to stop dicking around in human morph b;c he’s gonna getsomeone in trouble, possibly killed

This manager is actually a nice person

So Marco caught Ax

They are retelling the event at Cassie’s barn]

They are waiting for news from Erek

So was Ax? Alone at the damn mall? I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again there are rocks smarter than these kids

Erik has hidden chee with him

Of course Tobias fucking spots them all, its not like the chee could make themselves invisible

Hewlett Aldershot the Third, that’s a serious name

Yeerks wanna infest im for reasons and had Iness hit him with a car

Is this the same yeerk infested hospital from an earlier book? I guess boiling a bunch of folks alive and a minor wildlife rampage didn’t do shit.

Marco’s snippy when bored

So, either Visser 3 knows how to morph regular clothes or isn’t hamped by them at all and no one feels the need to mention them ripping through some while morphiong

Yeerks can’t do anything with a comatose host.

Either the head of the secret service is a lady or the president is

That’s not really how wings work forget it

People have to be seeing this 6 winged bird thing chasing a seagull

Also apparently the kafit is some kinda bird of prey

Ax’s seagull morph has talons apparently

Visser 3 is scared of getting into a tail fight

Visser 3 thinks a teenager can beat him.

They’re right b/c they are shit at fighting

Stand face to face for even more opportunity to injure yerself and give yer opponent a better shot at yer head

Visser 3 nopes out of the fight, breaking a leg in the fall, but morphing human fast

Too much protein keeps Aximili awake

Dinnier at Cassie’s ment a lot for Ax

Ax races around as he wrestles with his thoughts and goes to Tobias to talk about feeliongs

Yeerks infultrating the andalite homeworld was an interesting idea and the writers are cowards

Shut up Cassie

Cassie you liar

If they could aquire from say blood alone, then why don’t they just try acquiring from parts of animals like ever?

Rachel is concerned about blood borne diseases and doesn’t know how most of those are contracted

Ax that sounds like bullshit.

Ax you just hang with little squeemish bitches

Andalites have weak slow baby hands

How exactly do they plan to acquire blood that they ate as a mosquito? If they eat it it starts to break down from digestion and would be decently degraded by the time they vomit it back up and try to acquire from it.

A random sick kid has seen Ax and now knows his name

More humans have seen Ax

And like what reason with the yeerks have to let witnesses go like? Good job at getting more folks enslaved Ax

Ax thinks about collateral damage for once

...that’s a false surrender. Good job Ax! Not no one on yer side can ever actually surrender! Also a war crime.

Ax jumps out a window and morphs mosquito

That’s still not how compound eyes work

Pop

And now in the imaginary place

Huh, Ax and the animorphs get to see themselves in a 4 dimensional? view

Like tesseracts made of meat

Neat

Why, exactly would Tobias., who is in morph in ya know the shape of a bird not appear as a human jigsaw as well in this place?

They got dragged into Z space by a passing ship

And resqued by an andalite crew

The animorphs and Ax made a scientific breakthrough

.7 Andalite years stuck on Earth

I havent gotten to thhat book on my re read but everything you just said was wrong Ax

So there are multiple pool ships and such

Aximili doesnt actually have to stay with you all

He can fight yeerks where ever he pleases and really kinda needs to see others of his own kind every now and then

That grass probably tastes good as fuck tho after almost a year in Earth grass

Andalites being speciest

“May your great god Cha-Ma-Mib smile on you this day.” religious space frogs

“The continent loomed larger and larger. Most of it was lush and green, primarily jungle. Green like Earth's forests and jungles, but with wide swaths of some brilliant yellow vegetation, too. The northern end of the continent was less fertile, more barren, probably colder.”

Leera

The captian is a traitor

Also it is apparently pretty damn easy to take out andalites if you have even the slightest amount of drop on them

Visser 3 and Visser 4 are friends

That tailless dick fortified and used a weapon

The animorphs decided not to stick around in just listening to orders

Gonna blow the kids out an airlock and hope they survive

None of these fucks think to get in a damn fighter craft or emergency escape and attempt to survive

Just, welp folks we’re fucked time for some suicide!

Also the captain wasn’t even a controller, just willingly on the yeerk’s side

On the one hand Ax did abandon them. On the other the animorphs are not entitled to his service

Also this just isn’t the right time to pick on Ax

This is reallt not the right fucking time, Marco and Rachel are either trying to get themselves or someone else killed with their bullshit

Tobias u fucking chose to live in the woods as a wild animal, Aximili didn’t choose to be marroned on an alien world

You feathery asshole

Tobias vanished

Adi-fuckin-os

The yeerk forces are doing well on ground battle

Ax, the animorphs, the andalites, and the writers have failed ecology

Rachel vanished

The writers just really fucking hate sharks

“The water was perfectly, utterly clear. We were swimming in water that was forty feet deep, and we could see every detail on the ocean floor.

And what detail! Huge, billowing creatures like white and yellow sails, triangular with biological propellers at each corner. Brilliant, electric-blue worms or snakes, each seventy feet long, swimming in wild schools. A bizarre creature that rose and fell through the water by blowing air into a bladder so thin it was almost transparent. A wonderful sort of fish in the shape of a screw that rotated its way through the water.

And these creatures weren't scattered here and there, but everywhere. The Leeran ocean was a madhouse of life-forms.

Spread around across the ocean were bubbling chimneys of rock and soil, encrusted with squirming, writhing creatures, small and less small. My shark senses could feel the electrical discharge from these chimneys, and the intense warmth. As I watched, a massive school of the brilliant blue worms came swirling around one of the chimneys. It swirled and my shark senses could feel the energy flow from the chimney into the worms.”

There would still be fucking predators u nits

“They were mostly yellow. They had skin that was slimy, as if covered with ooze, yet rough in texture, like gravel. They had large, webbed back legs. For arms they had four tentacles arrayed around their plump, barrel-shaped bodies. The head was quite large, with a bulge at the back. It sat right on the shoulders. There was no neck. The face bulged outward and seemed to have just two features. A huge, wide, almost ridiculous mouth. And big, bulging eyes of a green that seemed almost to be lit from inside.

There were four Leerans. They were riding on water jets. The water jets were long, narrow tubes, flared in front to make a sort of wing, flared again in back to give extra

maneuverability. Arrayed along the back wing were clusters of very narrow tubes pointed forward.”

Leerans

The crew free some leerans (granted they were going to kill them) b/c the leerans showed them how to get the yeerks out of them

The team morph leerans and are uncomfortable with knowing eachother’s thoughts

Oh what normal space ships arent good enough for crushing ocean pressures now? Gotta have actual submarines?

A lot of these high ranking andalites are quick to yelling and threats of violence aint they

That is a very iffy plan not the least being the yeerks with their mostly terrestrial shock troops would have likely set up camp there anyway it seems. But if u wanna throw away lives who cares

Marco vanished

Talking to scientists and shit

Actually Jake, if all of you vanish b4 u carry out the mission it will be too late for a back up

A world with no predators my ass

Cassie vanishes

Ah, so yeah bats aint flying with torn to shit wings. They’s ded

Jake vanished

How exactly did the andalites get the shit in there in the first place?

Hah, the hork hosts have rocket boosters

Aximili is saved by vanishing

So why were they snapped back in mosquito morph and not just flund full force back into their real bodies

And why snap them all back to the same moment and not staggared into different moments in time

How the fuck did this man feel a damn mosquito bite? A notible aspect of mosquitoes as that we don’t really feel them biting

Genral yeerk panicking over management

End with scene at mall

#nix reads animorphs #animorphs #have i mentioned that i'm not impressed by these books other than alien design?

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that-mothman-gay-blog · 6 years ago

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Crash and Burn

Because SOMEONE has to make and promote Coolvin content and by god it’s gonna be me. DISCLAIMER: I don’t think Jake is a full adult. I picture him twenty at most, and I picture Calvin as eighteen, almost nineteen. Pedophilia is nasty and that’s not part of this ship. Thanks for understanding!

Jake hadn’t exactly been doing so good since the lodge’s run in with The Hornets.

He was Jake Coolice- everyone liked him. Everyone at the lodge, everyone at the local parks and the ski lodge up the road. Everyone liked Jake Coolice- well, everyone except his former friends. He still couldn’t tear away the affection he still held for them. They used to compliment him on his stunts, they’d plan out cool tricks, and Jake used to make sure none of them got hurt.

It was painful to break away from them, and to be embarrassed and insulted in front of his friends like that? It wasn’t exactly the best feeling.

Jake sighed, leaning forwards on his board as he let out a breath, the steam materializing in front of him. He just needed to clear his head, and, ironically enough, he didn’t know any better way than going down the slopes. They captured his focus and let him think clearly, and at the very least it distracted him for a few hours.

At the slightest lean, the board took off, being pushed forwards by nothing but kinetic energy and momentum. The trail was one of the more difficult ones- a black diamond, to be more specific. And yet, Jake cut through the snow like butter, doing neat tricks through the steep slope.

All he could feel was the wind tugging at his jacket, frost biting at his face. If not for the goggles he wore, he probably wouldn’t even be able to keep his eyes open.

The slope was something familiar- after all, he had been going down these trails for at least two years now. Jake’s leans and moves were calculated specifically to avoid the preplanned obstacles, or possibly hit them head on. So, when he saw a dingy plastic bike ramp and an out of place grind rail, he was a little bit shocked.

Time wasn’t exactly on his side as he fumbled to figure out what to do- the pathway narrowed out, and the ramp seemed to take up it’s entire length.

Swallowing, Jake swerved, his board catching the lip of the ramp, causing him to trip over it and fly forwards, he yelped, feeling small bits of gravel and rock scrape up his jacket and board, the ramp sliding a bit further down the trail. Jake’s arm collided with the ramp, and while yes, it slowed him down a little, it wasn’t exactly a pain-free process.

Jake groaned, his goggles having been scraped off and moved aside, a little bit above the rail. After a moment, he moved to sit up, clutching his arm. His puffy jacket was a little scraped up, but his arm felt absolutely terrible. He could still move it though, so with undying optimism, he figured it probably wasn’t too bad.

Things only seemed to go downhill though, the familiar skid of snow reaching Jake’s ears. He looked up the slope, preemptively wincing at the sight. He recognized the black and yellow colors instantly, although with the state his arm was in and the fact he’d still have to skid down the rest of the slope, Jake wasn’t in too much of a hurry to move.

Keith skid to a halt in front of him, grinning wickedly as he held on to the camcorder, snapping the device shut. “Damn, that is definitely going viral.” He chimed, a sly grin on his face.

For a moment, Jake’s face went pink, his eyebrows furrowing together. He refused to talk to him though, instead trying to gather his things so that he could just head back to the lodge. A place where all his friends were- a place he could relax, and get patched up.

“Good to see you eating shit like always Jake.” Keith teased, kicking his board up and flinging snow at Jake. It didn’t get too far though, small flurries defending down onto him. Keith had opened the camcorder again, seemingly rewatching the video he’d just taken. Jake could hear the quieter sound of snow skidding, plastic crunching and rubble moving aside. Keith laughed, his voice loud as he watched. “Man, you never could keep u-“

Just before he could finish his sentence, a somewhat large rock knocked the camcorder from his hands, the lens of the device being scraped up as it was knocked out of Keith’s hands, starting it’s descent down the mountain. Keith’s mouth hung open in shock, and as he followed the trail of the camcorder, his eyes landed on a pair of feet.

Jake looked back as well, the two boys staring at a young man. He had dark brown hair that just barely fell into his eyes, a normal black ski jacket worn over a white turtleneck. Here stood Calvin Owens, tossing another decent sized rock in one of his gloved hands, catching it in his palm.

Keith grit his teeth, his fist clenched as he heard the camcorder slip down the rest of the slope, seemingly taking a rough ride. “You- You’re gonna have to pay for that, prick!” He yelled, Calvin giving a rather obvious eye roll.

“And you’re going to have to pay the bail fee for assault and vandalism of town property,” Calvin replied, his voice cool and nonchalant, the tiniest hint of anger adding a sort of venomous twinge. “Or, y’know. You can delete the video and get your shit away from where it can injure people.”

The idea of getting minor jail time seemed to scare Keith off, the sportsman huffing, grumbling to himself as he kicked off the snow and started to chase after the recorder. He did ram his shoulder into Calvin as he passed though, and when he got a far enough distance, Calvin threw the rock he had kept in his hand. He then turned, a sheepish and concerned smile on his face as he approached Jake- who was currently sitting in the snow, holding on to his arm and staring wide eyed at Calvin.

Jake, despite his friendliness, had only vaguely recognized Calvin. Sure, he knew him to be the Sheriff’s son, but they hardly interacted. For some reason the way he was staring at him caused Jake’s face to heat up- although he was sure it was simply the cold snow, or maybe the fact that this cute guy had possibly seen him tear ass down the side of a mountain.

“Hey, uh, you doin’ alright?” Calvin asked, offering his hand to Jake. The blonde reached out, accepting the hand as he was pulled to his feet, his legs still shaking slightly. Calvin was surprisingly strong, only pulling his hand away when it seemed Jake was stable.

Jake nodded, swallowing thickly. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. Calvin seemed to quirk a brow, moving for just a second to retrieve Jake’s goggles, hissing at the beat up state they were in.

“You don’t need to apologize- if anyone does, it’s that Keith bastard,” Calvin replied, seemingly annoyed. His persona changed back to it’s calm, concerned state after a moment though, his brown eyes fixating back on Jake. “Let’s head back to Amnesty- that’s where you always hang around, right?”

Jake nodded, angling his board so that he wouldn’t trip up again, Calvin carefully guiding him down the rest of the path. Calvin waved towards a young boy, a kid wearing a dark blue jacket walking towards them, his messy black hair hidden underneath a beanie. “Jonah, go tell an employee that the Hornet kids caused an injury on one of the black diamond trails,” He instructed, the boy nodding as he walked off.

“It’s no big deal,” Jake tried to assure, only for Calvin to give him the biggest disbelieving look he’d ever seen, his grip tightening on Jake’s uninjured arm.

“Even if it wasn’t a big deal for you, someone else could go down and hit the same thing. And they might end up a little worse for wear,” Calvin offered, and yeah, that made sense to Jake. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened had Aubrey gone down that slope instead- or perhaps a little kid who wasn’t quite used to the trail mark meanings. “Besides, I wouldn’t say you made it out unharmed.”

Jake really couldn’t argue with that, simply nodding quietly, his eyes watching the snow. He’d probably need a new jacket and goggles, plus a good buffing of his board. He was a little embarrassed, but eventually they entered the lodge, the warmth of the nearby fireplace greeting them. Calvin’s unfamiliarity definitely earned some looks, but upon seeing the state Jake was in, a few of the residents gasped.

Aubrey ran up to him, her eyes wide with shock. “Holy shit-! Jake, you alright? What the hell happened?” She asked, her voice quick. Jake almost seemed to shy away, mumbling out an incoherent reply. That was a bit concerning, especially considering Jake was usually one of the most upbeat people at the lodge.

“The Hornets set up a few obstacles on one of the harder paths,” Calvin answered, Aubrey’s head jerking to face him. “He got injured pretty badly, it wasn’t exactly pretty.”

The mention of Jake’s injury caused him to laugh bitterly, his face going a little bit more warm. “I kind of ate shit,” He murmured, Calvin gently squeezing his arm. Barclay seemed concerned from his spot in the kitchen, Calvin ushering Jake to sit by the fire.

“Aubrey, right?” Calvin asked, turning his head towards the girl. She perked up, nodding in confirmation. “Can you go grab a med kit? If there isn’t one, maybe some ice?”

Aubrey nodded, rushing off quickly to go find what Calvin had asked for. Meanwhile, Calvin turned, helping to remove Jake’s jacket, carefully avoiding further injuring his arm. Jake felt maybe a little pathetic at that, if not a little grateful. Calvin winced at the bruise that was forming on Jake’s arm, his face contorting into an almost horrified look. Trying to act as a distraction until Aubrey returned, Jake coughed, avoiding eye contact.

“So uh, your name is Calvin, right? Sheriff’s son and captain of the swim team?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Cool. I’m Jake- Jake Coolice.”

Soon enough Aubrey had returned with a medicine kit, handing it over to Calvin. She started asking if Jake had seen Keith, instantly becoming furious upon seeing the way Jake cringed at the thought. Jake was, well, a bit embarrassed about it all. He considered himself a top sportsman after all, and Keith now had video evidence that The Hornets were better than him- just like they always told him.

That’s why Jake had left them. They stopped doing their stunts for fun, and instead they used them to hurt people and put them down. The Kepler Stunt Squad had transformed from being a place where anyone could join, and it had become a place with a quota. And if you didn’t fit it, you weren’t good enough to hang out with them.

You weren’t good enough to be their friend.

Jake hissed as he felt pressure on the bruise, Calvin giving him a sympathetic look as Aubrey passed him an ice pack. “Sorry- it doesn’t look like more than a little bruise, but if it hurts real bad to move it and it starts swelling, it might be a fracture,” Calvin informed him, tying off the bandage job he’d done.

Jake nodded, looking it over. It was surprisingly neat, the bandages tight against his skin, but in a way that wasn’t uncomfortable. He actually got used to it pretty quickly. He looked back at Calvin and smiled, Calvin’s expression softening into a calm smile. “Will do,” He answered, Barclay coming over with a few cups of hot chocolate.

Calvin turned his head upon seeing Jake’s eyes move, his eyes widening just slightly at the sight. He held up his hand in denial though, smiling sheepishly. “Uh, no thanks. I have to get back to watching my brother,” He explained, earning a nod from Barclay.

Jake watched as Calvin stood up, raking a hand through his hair as he looked down at Jake. His gloved hand then pointed to the bandaging, his previously soft expression hardening once again. “If it turns out they fractured your arm, call up the Sheriff’s office and ask for me- I’ll make sure they get in trouble.”

Jake nodded one last time, watching as Calvin left the lodge, his eyes fixed on him as he walked out Amnesty’s doors. He felt a dip in the couch, turning his head to see Aubrey sitting a little too close to him, two cups of hot chocolate in her hands and the widest grin he’d ever seen plastered onto her face.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” She hummed, handing him a cup of hot chocolate. “It’s just that you just got the number of a cute boy you’ve been staring at since you came in.”

Jake paused, his eyes widening for a moment and his face dusting red. He looked between the doors and Aubrey, almost as if he expected Calvin himself to return and confirm Aubrey’s suspicions. His heart rate skyrocketed, his leg suddenly becoming a bit more jittery.

“…Holy shit-!”

#Coolvin #Calvin Owens #Jake Coolice #TAZ Amnesty #the adventure zone amnesty #taz #the adventure zone #Aubrey Little #Barclay #taz Barclay #taz Keith

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