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atlafan · 5 years ago

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Take it Slow - Part Thirteen

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

(Fluff and smut in this one. Would love to know how you are still liking the story!)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve

Masterpost

Over the next couple of weeks, you and Harry took turns staying over at each other’s places more often. You both agreed it was easier for him to stay over on school nights because you needed more things to get ready for work in the morning. So you would stay at his place more on the weekends. You were tired most mornings with him there, but it was a good tired. Your mood at work was overwhelmingly positive, and many people noticed. You couldn’t help it, essentially being given an orgasm every other night of the week did wonders for you. Between the way he would rub you, or go down on you, you were perfectly content with where things were with Harry. He was happy to be given head or a hand job as well.

Harry desperately wanted to be able to touch more of you, to feel more of you, but he knew he would get there with you eventually, and there was really no rush. The awful run in with Jake was slowly slipping from your memory. You truly were feeling like your old self.

Wednesday morning, Niall popped into your office. You were standing at your desk, editing away at a clip a client had sent in. You see Niall and take your headphones out.

“Hey.” He says with a smile.

“Sup?” You’re clearly busy, but don’t want to be rude.

“Are you doin’ anything for Halloween?” Halloween was next weekend, and you hadn’t thought twice about it. You used to love Halloween when you were in college, but not it was less fun when you didn’t have a full weekend of dressing up and binge drinking.

“I don’t think so, why?”

“I’m gonna have a party at my place, just decided last night.”

“Oh fun! Your place really is perfect for a party.”

“I’d like to do some type of costume contest.”

“Hmm, like a couple’s costume contest?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Not necessarily, I just think having a contest of some kind will get more people to want to dress up.”

“Definitely, this is gonna be so much fun! I’ll have to think of some costume ideas.”

“You and Harry should be Tarzan and Jane.” He starts laughing.

“He would never go for that, but something tells me he’ll be open to some interesting ideas.”

That night when you get home from work, you walk into the delicious smell of a home cooked dinner. Harry has his apron on, and is frying up some tofu and veggies. You walk over to him, and wrap your arms around him.

“Dinner’s almost ready love.”

“Wednesday’s are my favorite. Rest day from the gym, you get off work early, and you cook for me.” You kiss him on the cheek, and hang up your jacket. “What are we having?” You ask, sitting at the table.

“Garlic and ginger tofu stirfry.” He says placing a plate in front of you.

“Oh yum! Thank you sweetie.”

“Don’t mention it.” He smiles at you. You both dig in and you can’t help the moan that comes from your mouth. “Good, huh?” He chuckles.

“Mm, very good. God, you are such a good cook.”

“So are you.”

“But you’re better. So...”

“So...”

“Niall told me he’s having a Halloween party next weekend.”

“Yeah, he texted me last night. What should we go as?”

“Yay, so you’re into it?”

“Of course, I love Halloween parties. It’s fun to take pictures of people dressed in what they wish they could wear all the time.”

“Good point. Any ideas for costumes? I want to be creative, but it’s kind of last minute so I don’t know how much time we’ll have to make something.”

“Hmmm, what about like eighties punk rockers. We could wear leather pants and black eyeliner.”

“Are you going to wear a wig?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because eighties rockers had long hair.”

“Not all of ‘em. I won’t wear a wig, but I’d wear everything else.”

“You just want to see my butt in a tight pair of pants.”

“Not true! Although, you would look incredibly sexy.” You swat a hand at him while you shovel more food into your mouth.

“Oh! What if you were like Charlie Brown and I was Peppermint Patty?”

“Isn’t she a lesbian? Wouldn’t really work for a couple’s costume.” He laughs.

“Are we really going to discuss whether or not a comic strip character is a lesbian? And who cares if she is, they’re still good friends, it would be cute.”

“You could be snoopy?”

“How could I possibly dress up as snoopy?” Harry starts to blush.

“Well, you could wear like a white dress, and paint your nose black. You could buy the dog ears, and um, a collar.” He looks down at his food.

“You want me to wear a dog collar?”

“It would be part of the costume.”

“I do have a black choker I could wear…does he wear a black collar or a red collar?”

“I can’t remember, we can look it up.”

“I think I have one in both colors. You know what, this could work, and I think I have a white jumpsuit I could wear. I could wear my white heels, the choker, and you’re right just paint a nose on and buy the ears. You must have black shorts, we could buy a yellow polo and paint a black zig zag on it.”

“This’ll be fun.” Harry loves when you say the word we. It was a word he used to be scared of, but it sounds so good coming from your lips.

That weekend you two go to WalMart to pick out the extra components of your costumes. You buy some black fabric paint, and slip a piece of cardboard inside the shirt. Harry lays down some newspaper for you on his kitchen floor, and watches you intently while you paint the zig zag on the front and back of the yellow shirt.

“Okay, now don’t touch this, and just let it dry, I don’t want it getting smudged.” You hand it to him, and he places it on his desk to lean against the wall.

“Do you like to paint?”

“I do, actually. My Nannie used to paint when she was younger, I actually have some of her art hanging in my apartment.”

“Maybe we could go to one of those like, wine and paint nights at a bar sometime.”

“You’d be into something like that?”

“Sure, Niall and I have actually done it together a couple of times, it’s pretty relaxing.” You burst out laughing.

“You two have the weirdest friendship.” You say wiping tears from his eyes.

“Oi, what’s the difference between two men having a boys night and two girls having a girls night?”

“I suppose not much, it’s just funny to picture you both getting wine drunk and painting. But from your original point, I think it would be a lot of fun if we did that sometime.”

You had your period this week, so you couldn’t wait for Halloween to roll around because you knew you’d be done by then. You took out your white jumpsuit. It was cute, low cut with spaghetti straps. You bought it because it had pockets and because it was boot cut. The ones that flared out too much made your legs look weird. You slipped it on, and twirled in your mirror. It really made your butt look great. You left your hair down and straight, and stuck your dog ears on. Then you took out your black choker and your red choker, still not being able to decide which one would make more sense. You didn’t want to look like Brian Griffin, so you went with the black choker. You paint a black nose onto yourself. You slipped your white pumps on, and waited for Harry.

Harry strolled into your place around eight-thirty. He had a pair of black converse on, paired with black shorts, and the yellow shirt you had made for him. His jaw nearly hits the floor when he sees you.

“I didn’t know snoopy could be so sexy.” He says walking over to you. “Is, um, aunt flow still in town?”

“No, she left yesterday.” You giggle. “I didn’t know you owned sneakers like that.”

“I had to really dig them out of my closet. I tried to make the outfit work with my boots, but it just wasn’t happening.” You notice his nails were now black and yellow.

“Can I just say I love that you color coordinated your nails?” You hold his hand looking over the colors.

“Hey, when I commit to something, I commit.” You give him a funny look. “Right, shall we head over?”

“Yup, let me just grab my bag. We’ll go back to your place after, yeah?”

“Works for me.” He smiles, and takes your bag down to the car, checking out your ass in your jumpsuit. “That really is a sexy outfit, (y/n).” You feel your cheeks heat up when he places a hand on your thigh as he drives to Niall’s.

“Thank you, Harry.” You give his hand a little squeeze.

When you get up to Niall’s, the place was already packed. You spot him right away. He had a white t-shirt on that said ‘chill’ on it and you immediately rolled your eyes. You spot Sarah who is wearing a tight red dress that she pinned the word Netflix to. Niall comes over to the greet you, and to take the bottle of wine you brought.

“Glad you guys could make it.” He looks you both up and down. “Charlie Brown and Snoopy? Damn, why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you are unoriginal, mate.” Harry grabs your hand and brings you over to the drink cart to make the two of you drinks. You wave to Sarah who gives you a thumbs up.

You just realized you had never been to a big party with Harry before. Well, you both had been at Niall’s holiday party last year, but you weren’t there together. Nor did the two of your even speak. You remember him slightly talking to a group of girls who were probably all waiting the clock out to see who he would take home with him.

Rachel was there with a girl, who you recognized as the girl she took home from the bar over a month ago. You make eye contact with her, and you both wink at each other. You were so happy your friend groups were merging.

“Oi! It’s the lad himself!” You hear a man with a thicker British accent yell to Harry. Harry whips his head around, and you swear you had never seen him smile quite so big. The man was wearing all yellow and had a picture of Heinz Mustard on his belly. Ketchup probably not too far away.

“Lou!” Harry yells back, and the two practically run into each other’s arms. “What the fuck are ya doin’ here?”

“I drove in for the party, that alright with ya?” The two hug for another second, before Harry turns back to introduce you.

“Babe, this is my mate Louis. Louis, this is my girlfriend, (y/n).” You hold your hand out to shake, and he takes it kindly.

“Nice to meet ya.”

“Same to you. So, did you go to college with Harry and Niall?”

“Yeah we spent some time at uni together. It’s so funny, ya live in the same country with a guy, only a couple of hours away your whole life, and it takes goin’ ‘cross the pond at some random school to meet.”

“And you also decided to stay in the states?”

“Yeah, well the girl I was with at the time convinced me to stay here with her. We broke up eventually, but by that time I had already gone through the process of dual citizenship.”

“Oh I see.”

“Mate, El is here with me tonight, I’m sure she’d love to see ya, let me go grab her.” You see Harry roll his eyes after Louis leaves.

“I fucking hate his girlfriend, her name is Eleanor.”

“Oh, why do you hate her?” You put a hand on his arm to soothe him.

“She just rubs me the wrong way. She hated how close Lou and I were, that’s why he lives like two hours away, because the three of us would hang out all the time. The three of us lived together for a while, and she yanked him right out.” Louis walks over with Eleanor, and yup, she’s ketchup.

“Hi Harry.” She says with what you assume is a fake smile, because he’s giving her one as well. They give each other a small hug.

“Hey El, this is my girlfriend, (y/n).”

“Hi, love, nice to meet ya.” Why were there so many British people in this area? How did they find each other? “Girlfriend! Well, it’s ‘bout damn time, H.” You look up at him and scrunch your nose. You had never heard anyone refer to him like that.

“Was just waitin’ for the right girl.” He hooks an arm around your waist, and you feel peaceful.

“Harry, come do shots with me like old times. I know Niall has that good tequila.”

“Deal.” The boys go into the kitchen to find shot glasses, leaving you with Eleanor.

“Did ya ever watch Boy Meets World growin’ up?” You make a face at the odd question, but laugh.

“Um, yeah, I loved that show.”

“Right, well, what you’re lookin’ at”, she points to the boys who are clinking two shot glasses together. You already know you’re going to have to uber back to Harry’s later. “is a the real life Cory and Shawn.”

“Which one of us is Topanga?” You giggle.

“Me, of course. I was always the third wheel with them. I met Louis in grad school, and you would think that two boys wouldn’t act like such children around each other.” You didn’t think Harry was close with someone other that Niall. “Jesus, and when the three of them would get together.” She rolls her eyes.

“They seem to really miss each other. It’s good for guys to have friends.”

“Oh I agree, I don’t mind Niall. Harry just never really warmed up to me, and would make things difficult for Lou and I. I know he blames me for why Lou lives so far away, but I got a really good job offer and he wanted to come with me.”

“I get it. My best friend lives outside the city, and it’s hard enough to get together with her only an hour away.” Yes, you still considered Kate to be your best friend, even if you still weren’t talking to her. “It’s a two way street, both people have to make the effort.”

“We invite Harry to visit all the time, but he always say no. I think he would feel like the third wheel, not that that’s possible. Maybe now that he has you, you could convince him to come out for a weekend here and there. We can’t stay with him here because he doesn’t have space for us. And hotels can be so expensive.”

“Sure, I could definitely put a bug in his ear.” You hadn’t been away with Harry yet, you didn’t really want your first weekend away to be with another couple, but you would see how things go.

“Thanks, Jesus, look at them.” You see them laughing as they take another shot. “That’s their third shot you know? We officially no longer exist at this party.” Before you can say anything, Sarah comes up to you with a shot glass for yourself.

“Here, Harry asked me to do one with you.” You take the cold glass from her and tip your head back.

“I love tequila, I’m gonna get more. Eleanor come on, come do a shot.” She sighs, but follows you into the kitchen.

You grab a lime and some salt. You cut up the lime into small sections.

“What are you doin’?” Harry slurs. Wait, Harry is drunk? He never gets drunk.

“I’m gonna do some shooters.”

“Shooters?” He mimics your American accent.

“Yup, give me your hand.” You lick a small spot on the top of his hand, his eyes growing wide at the PDA, and shake some salt on it. You do the same to your own hand. “Okay, so, how it goes is, you lick the salt, take the shot, and suck on the lime.”

Eleanor and Louis do as you did, and you all lick the salt at the same time. You take your shot, and grab the lime immediately to suck on. Harry can’t help but watch as your teeth sink into the fruit and suck the juice. You take it out of your mouth and look at them.

“See, way more fun way to take a shot.”

You start to feel a bit tipsy, and suddenly the music is calling you. You walk away without saying anything to find Sarah and Rachel. The three of you form a little group so you can dance. Niall really did have the perfect layout for a party. There was room to sit or stand around to just chat, and he had the room for dancing. Whatever playlist was on was hitting just right. Some oldies and newer hits was the perfect combination.

Eleanor leaves to use the bathroom, and Niall goes to stand with Louis and Harry, as the boys watch the girls dance.

“I gotta say Harry, she sure knows how to move it.” Louis says.

“Yeah, she sure does. I would have loved to know her in uni, apparently she was quite the party animal.”

“The three of them were.” Niall says, taking a sip of his drink. “Sarah has told me some wild stories. (y/n) apparently is one of the most fun people to party with.”

You move along effortlessly to the beat of the song. You and your friends are laughing and singing along loudly to the music, but no one can really hear you. A lot of other people start dancing, it might as well be a club in here.

“Lou?” Eleanor says after coming back from the bathroom.

“Yeah, love?”

“Come dance with me?”

“You bet, see ya guys out there.” Harry rolls his eyes as Eleanor drags him away.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was comin’?” Harry looks at Niall with a pout.

“Thought he was goin’ to flake. He’ll be around all weekend, don’t worry you two can have some alone time, I’ll make sure of it. Just try to pretend to be happy for him.”

“I am happy for him, I just wish he found any other girl to make him happy.” Niall starts to walk away. “Where you goin’?”

“My girl is out there shakin’ her ass, so you better believe I’m gonna go dance with her, and you should do the same, plenty of guys are watchin’ her.” He points over at you, and it was true. Plenty of people were watching you.

A drunk Harry stumbles over to you, and wraps his arms around your waist, pressing himself against your backside. He starts dancing with you, like really dancing with you. He wasn’t the embarrassed man who referred to himself as a giraffe the first time you went dancing with him. You wondered if this was what he was like in college, if he would grind with girls to show them what he had, and bring them home with him. You shake the thought from your head, and move against him in perfect rhythm. He turns your around to face him, his hands slipping down to your butt. You wrap your arms around his neck, and dance on him. He’s dying to know your college stories. You seem like such a good girl, but maybe not, and he wanted to hear all about it.

In a bold move, almost forgetting where you were, you grab hold of his collar, and yank his face down to yours, kissing him. He puts his hands on your face, and pulls you in for a deeper kiss, while your hands go on his hips. Your tongue is instantly in his mouth, and he tastes like tequila. He was so incredibly sexy, and you were extremely turned on. You hadn’t been able to do anything all week with your period in the way. You still pleasured him because you wanted to, but you missed his touch.

“Jesus, look at ‘em go.” Louis nudges Niall, taking a break from the dancing.

“You know, I’ve only ever seen them kiss in public once, and it was nothin’ like that.”

“He’s really into her, huh?”

“He asked her to be his girlfriend three weeks in.”

“Wow, yup, he’s got it bad. Wonder what it is?”

“She’s just…a good person. Instant connection.”

“Good for the lad, he deserves a good woman.”

Harry breaks your kiss, as he remembered where you are. If you were anyone else, he would take you and lead you to the bathroom, press you against the wall, and take you from behind. But he couldn’t do that with you, not yet anyways. He leaves you to dance with your friends, and you catch him dancing with Louis and Niall. You can’t help but take your phone out and take a quick video of the occasion. You and your friends take selfies and videos of yourselves. You’re still in awe of Harry, having more fun that you had ever seen him have. Louis brought out an exceptional mood in him. It was funny to see the three of them sing along to the same song, wondering what Harry’s singing voice might sound like.

The party slowly dissipated, but not before you and Harry were deemed best costumes. You didn’t win anything, but the bragging rights were nice. You offered to help clean up, but Sarah told you she would help Niall. Harry was in deep conversation with Louis while you went to grab your coats. They were looking at Louis’ phone and snickering like children. You smile and hand Harry his coat.

“Lou, I’m gonna go get settled in the guest room, night Harry.” Eleanor said.

“You’re stayin’ here?”

“Yeah, hotel was too expensive. What are you up to tomorrow, was hoping to just have lunch with the lads.”

“I can definitely do that.” Harry turns to you. “You don’t mind right?”

“Not at all, babe.”

“Just text me tomorrow, mate.” The two hug, and Harry hooks an arm around your waist. “Oi, Niall!” Harry yells.

“What?” He yells from the kitchen.

“Great party mate, I’ll be by tomorrow.”

The cold air on the street slaps the two of you in the face. You take your phone out to order an uber as Harry holds you from behind, humming into your hair. You had never seen him quite so drunk before. Usually you were the one that was drunk while he was perfectly fine. You were still buzzed, but you were nowhere near where he was. You lost count of how many shots he had actually taken. You just knew he consumed a lot of tequila.

The uber pulls up pretty quickly, and you both climb in. You keep an arm around Harry, and he rests his head against your shoulder, still humming some song you can’t quite make out. You key into his apartment, and immediately take your shoes off. He watches you walk into the bathroom. You really needed to pee, and you needed to wash off that black make up on your nose. You take your dog ears off, but leave everything else on. He’s by the sink drinking some water when you return.

“Didja have fun tonight baby?” He asks you, guzzling down the water.

“Yes, babe, don’t drink that so fast, it’ll upset your stomach.”

“Aw, are ya gonna take care of me tonight?” He says in the sweetest voice. “Treat me like your l’il baby?”

“Do you want to be treated like a baby?” You raise an eyebrow at his funny words.

“Not particularly.” He slurs. “Did you know that I love babies?”

“Yes, you’ve told me before, remember? You like shooting maternity photos for people.”

“You know, I really do.”

“I’m glad you had fun tonight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh so much.”

“S’not true.” He pouts. “You make me laugh all the time.”

“It’s okay, Harry. I have fun with my friends when we haven’t seen each other in a while too. You and Louis looked like you were having a great time.”

“We were, he’s really my best mate. Niall is too, the three of us are like the three amigos.”

“So I saw. It was funny watching you three dance together.”

“It was just like being in uni again. Everyone always wanted to come to our parties, we threw the best parties (y/n).”

“I believe it.”

“Are you mad?”

“What? No, of course not, why would I be?”

“Because I drank a lot more than I should have. I was supposed to get ya home.”

“But you did, the uber was just fine.”

“Let’s go sit on the couch, yeah?” He grabs you by the wrist and pulls you towards the couch. Before you can sit down he looks you up down. “Where’d ya nose go?”

“Washed it off.” You shrugged.

“This is such a sexy outfit, have I told ya that yet tonight?”

“Maybe once or twice.” You giggle. “But it’s always nice to hear.” He pulls you close to him, and pats your bum.

“You have the best ass I have ever seen, have I ever told you that?” You feel your cheeks flush. He was starting to get fresh. You slip your hands to his butt to mimic what he’s doing to you.

“I could say the same about you.” Giving one of his cheeks a little pinch, he jumps back a half inch.

“Oi, if you do that again, we’re going to have a problem.”

“Oh really?”

You start pinching at him again, and he starts to tickle you, making a ghastly laugh come from you. You slap your hand over your mouth, but he pulls it away. You try to tickle him back, and you end up chasing him around his little apartment. He picks you up from behind, swinging you around, making you squeal. He puts you down on the bed, he hops over you and lays on his back, he looks at you and taps his legs. You get the idea and crawl on top of him, straddling his legs.

“I’d like this to come off ya now.” He slips your straps off your shoulders. “If that’s alright with you.”

You lean up, and put your arms through the straps. You push the material down only a little, causing Harry to pout for the millionth time tonight.

“I’m not wearing a bra with this.”

“I know.”

“I like when you take your time with me.”

Harry sits up against the headboard so you can sit on him easier. He brings his mouth to your jaw, and kisses down your neck. He sinks his teeth in where he always does. The skin must be raw there with how often he kisses you in that spot. He licks over it to soothe you, and kisses down your chest. His hands move up to your breasts, and kneads them through the material. He looks up at you for approval, and you nod yes. One hand moves to the back of the jumpsuit, and un zips the small zipper so he can easily tug the material down. Your breasts pop out, and he looks like a kid in candy store. Sloppy wet kisses cover your chest instantly. He sucks on your left breast, and you groan with your head rolling back. He take the piercing between his teeth and he twists it. You roll your hips on him involuntarily.

“You like that?” He coos. You nod your head. “Use your words baby.”

“Yes, I like that.” You say through your teeth, as he continues to suck on your tender nipple. Your hands go straight into his hair and rake over his scalp, causing him to moan while he sucks on you.

“I gotta get his off of ya, please will you let me?”

“Yes, but you have to take yours off too.”

You hope off the bed, and he does the same. You take his shirt off him, and push his shorts down his legs, careful to leave his boxers on. Your jumpsuit falls off, pooling at your feet, and revealing a white lace thong. Harry furrows his eyebrows.

“You, you were wearing this all night?”

“Um, yeah?”

He takes you, and gently bends you over the bed. You rubs a hand over your ass. You half expect him to spank you, but he knows better, he knows you don’t want that. A finger dips into the material, and he plays with it for a moment.

“Your ass looks amazing right now.” You start giggling. “What?”

“I can’t tell if you’re an ass man or a tit man. You seem to really like both.” You say looking back at him.

“If it’s a part of your body, then I like it.” He puts both hands on your ass and kneads your cheeks. “This is just pure perfection.” He leans forward to press himself against you. He’s so hard against you, it makes you push back into him. “(y/n), can we try something different tonight?”

“Harry”, you stand up to face him, taking his hands in yours. This was a dreaded question. Selfishly, you liked things how they were. You knew he wanted to feel every inch of you, but you were still working through things at therapy, and you just couldn’t let him touch you like that yet. You sigh, feeling awful. “I’m so sorry, I’m just not ready for-“ You’re cut off by his hands on your face and his mouth on yours.

“I didn’t mean, doing more. I just had a different position in mind. I’m not ever going to suggest anything more until you say so.” He reassures her.

“Alright, what did you have in mind?”

“Well, first, how would you feel about sitting on my face?” Your eyes nearly pop out. That wasn’t something you did often. Even though his head had been between your legs countless time, sitting on his face just seemed really vulnerable. But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on. To ride his face, to be so in control of the situation.

“Yeah, we could try that. What was the second?”

“Hm?”

“You said first, what’s the second position?”

“Let’s just try this, and then I’ll bring that up.” He says with a grin.

“Okay, but, let’s turn the lights off.” You point the switch on the wall, and he flicks it off.

“Take your panties off baby.”

You slide the thong off and toss it on the floor. He leaves his boxers on for now. Harry lays on the bed, right next to you. Your breathing felt heavy as you crept your way up to him.

“Don’t be shy, love. You’re so beautiful, I’m dying to see you from this angle.”

With his words of encouragement, you swung your leg over him, and lowered yourself onto his face. You were already dripping for him. The second he started sucking on your nipples you were a goner. Harry started to suck on your clit, and you grabbed at his headboard. You let out a breathless moan at the way he nibbled and sucked on your most sensitive area. You sunk down on him a little, and he moved his mouth to your warm, dripping center. His tongue lapped around you for a moment, but went up inside you so you could ride him. His hands moved to your hips and gently rocked you. You started to move yourself slowly against his face. His little bit of stubble adding the perfect amount of friction. Before you knew it, you were grinding down on him back and forth, riding his tongue. Your moans started to get louder and louder, clutching at the headboard, trying to pinch your legs together, looking for some release. But his hands on your thighs kept your legs open. You didn’t know if it was the different angle, or the fact that you were so in control, but you were feeling amazing. You loved looking down seeing him under you like this. You rocked faster on him, a thumb moving to rub your clit. That’s when you knew you were done for.

“Oh, fuck, Harry! Fuck!” You moaned out, over and over. “I’m goonnnnaaa, ahhh…” You came, hard on his tongue. He slowly sucked on you so you could ride your high out. He lifted you off of him, and he wipes his face. His chest was heaving up and down, and slowly he steadied it. He looked up at you and smiled.

“That was so hot, did you like it?”

“Yeah, it felt incredible. So, um…” You knew you weren’t done with him yet. “What was the other position?”

“Eager?”

“Curious.”

“I want to do that to you, while you do it to me.” You furrow your eyebrows for a second, putting two and two together. A slight squeak leaving your mouth.

“Are you asking me to 69?” He nods at you.

“Would you feel comfortable with that?”

“Well, would you have to eat me out…like from behind?”

“Yup.” He’s so comfortable with it. You weren’t sure if you wanted to have your ass in his face like that. You also didn’t want him accidentally licking your asshole or something. “If you don’t want to it’s okay, I just thought it might be fun to do that at the same time.”

“Well, we can try, and if I feel weird we’ll stop.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

You reach down and tug at his boxers. He lifts his hips up so you can bring them down his legs, tossing them aside. You wanted him in your mouth, that wasn’t the problem. You also didn’t want to be that close to his asshole either. He probably didn’t care because he was still intoxicated. You stare at his dick, it is absolutely throbbing for you, this snaps you out of any concern.

“Right, so it’s a little easier if we both lay on our side.” Confirmation that he’s done this before, wonderful. You want to roll your eyes at him, but you know he didn’t mean anything by the comment.

You lay on your left side, eyeing his dick that has begun to leak at the tip. You feel him move between your legs, as you stroke your thumb over his tip. His mouth is on you again, and you moan out that different sensation you’re getting from having him lick you from the opposite direction. You put on hand on his hip, and the other on his dick. You start out with just the tip in your mouth while your hand worked his base. You feel Harry groan into you, causing you to moan with him in your mouth. You had never done something quite so erotic. He licked you quicker and quicker, as you bobbed your head, taking more of him into your mouth. He rocks his hips into you as you do to him, you’re way more turned on than you thought you’d be. His chin is rubbing against your clit as his tongue goes back inside you.

“Ahh, shit!” You say with him in your mouth, taking him deeper. You feel him hit the back of your throat as he rocks into you, and you choke on him for a second. He stops to see if you’re alright. “Fuck, don’t stop Harry!” You say pumping just for a moment before wrapping your swollen lips around him again.

You felt your stomach tighten and you knew your release was coming. You could feel tears streaming down your cheeks from having his cock so deep down your throat, but you loved the way he tasted. Neither of you warn each other, just as you’re releasing on his tongue, his hot come comes shooting to the back of your throat. You take as much of it into your mouth as you can, but you need to moan out from your high. You cough up some of his come back on his dick, and you try to catch your breath. Harry turns his body so he’s fully laying on his back. You swallow what you can of the come that’s still in your mouth. You feel him yank at your arm, and he pulls you up, so you’re lying on his chest. He’s stroking your hair, trying to steady his breathing. His chest is laced with sweat.

“How, how did you like that?”

“It was different. But it felt amazing. I love the way it feels when you’re do that and you moan into me, it’s so hot Harry.” He moves to kiss you but you back away. “I should really go rinse my mouth out first.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” His pupils are still blown out. You look at his dick, it’s twitching, could it really be getting hard again? “Lemme kiss ya.”

“Please, I just want to rinse my mouth out, hold on a sec.” You quickly go to the bathroom, and rinse your mouth out. You’re back to the bed quick, just like you said. “See? Okay, now I’ll kiss you.”

You lean down and kiss him, slightly tasting yourself on his lips, but it’s not a big deal. He sucks on your bottom lip, biting it pretty good, and you groan. Your hands are in his hair in seconds, pulling at it. He wraps his arms around you, and pulls you on top of him. You keep your lower half hovering over him, not wanting to make contact.

“Please, I’m so hard again, please touch me.” He says against your lips.

“I thought when guys drank like this they had a hard time getting it up.” You say taking him into your small hand, giving him slow pumps.

“It has the opposite effect on me, god that feels good.”

You pump him until he’s panting. You loved the sight of his parted lips, and the way his hands grabbed all over your body.

“(y/n), can I please come on your ass?” You’re surprised at him.

“Um, sure.” You squeak.

You get off him quickly and lay on your stomach. He grips himself in one hand, and puts the other on your hip. He pulls you up slightly so your butt is more in the air. You hear him moan out, and it nearly makes you come again. Sensing this, at the sight of you squeezing your legs together, Harry reaches around to rub your clit, careful to only use his thumb.

“Fuck!” You scream out, feeling your third release of the night come at the same you feel his hot come spread all over of your back and butt. You nearly collapse on the mattress. You hear the bed creak, and watch as Harry saunters to the bathroom, coming back with a towel. He wipes you clean, and you turn over, amazed by him and what his simple touch does to you. You know you need to get up to pee, if you don’t you’ll regret it. He puts on a clean pair of boxers, and watches you go into the bathroom. You’re still crazy wet. A mix of you and him. You almost feel bad having to wipe it all away, but no guy will ever be worth having a UTI for.

“Here, wanna wear my shirt? You always look so cute in my clothes.” He coos, holding up a t-shirt. You happily take it and put it on. You get back on the bed with him, and he hugs you close to his bare chest. “You did so good baby, so good. You were amazing.” He rubs your back. You loved the way he always tried to make you feel better. It’s not like you were having BDSM, it’s not like he slapped you around. It wasn’t like you needed time to come back to him. But he knew you were always after doing something new or different.

“It was really nice, Harry. A good suggestion.” You snuggle into him, and he puts the comforter over the both of you. “Thank you for always being so nice to me.” You knew he’d be rougher with you if you let him. You knew if you said the word, you’d let him raw you over his desk. That was the thing with him though. He always asked for permission, and he didn’t do anything unless you said so.

#take it slow #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #smut #fluff #harry styles fic

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ardentprose · 5 years ago

Text

Rain and Ramen

Jimin x Reader

Genre: Domestic Fluff, Slight Angst

Warnings: mentions of sex

Song: Any rain lo-fi mix on youtube like this one

The water hisses as square-shaped noodles are dropped into the depths of the pot, submerging quickly beneath the bubbles. Jimin tears another package open and peels away the plastic wrapping, tossing it in the general direction of the overflowing trash bin. After deciding there was enough boiling noodles for the two of you, he reaches over to the pitiful portion of counter space tucked between the wall and gas stove top. He picks up a cheap all-in-one spice container and with a flick of his wrist adds a few dashes, licking his thumb at the end.

Across the room you lie against the peeling wallpaper decorated with posters collected from various soon-to-be and never-to-be-known artists alike framing your head and shoulders. Jimin could not understand why you insisted on getting the signatures of each and every musician after their set no matter how late you were forced to stay. You tell him if they ever became famous you could sell them on e-bay to pay next month’s rent.

What if they never go anywhere? He would ask holding on to the pole above your hand, chest pressed to your back, as you took the train home.

Then at least we made them feel like they would. You always respond earning an endearing kiss on the forehead from your husband.

You flip a page in your book, coming to the end of the chapter. You squint under the lamp light that has now become more apparent than what your two windows could offer in the wake of a raging night thunderstorm. Heeding your mother’s warning as a child to never read in the dark, you close the book and roll your neck.

Your eyes naturally find your husband, shirtless at the stove a mere twenty feet in front of you. The muscles in his shoulders contract as he tends to dinner, at times stretching so that the ligaments that define his back accentuate his spine. A pair of dimples right above the waistline of his sweatpants - the same ones he’s worn since college - wink at you from time to time. It never fails to draw a smile to your face, even if Jimin swears to you to just wait another month and he’ll get rid of the love handles.

“These are not love handles, Jimin! You’re skinnier than I am. And even if they were, I’d love you all the same.” You would tell him as your fingertips trace the soft skin peeking between his tee and boxers.

“They are though and I would be fine if I could just get rid of them. How will I scare other men away if I look like the chubby side kick rather than the dashing, strong hero?”

He always pouts and even in the dark you know his cheeks are as round as the dumplings you splurge on every weekend. But telling him you want to bite said cheeks like the delectable side dish would be asking him to take it the wrong way.

So you would resort to loving his body the best way you knew how. By using your wandering fingertips to push his hips over, swinging your leg over his at the same time. With his back pressed into the mattress, he has no where to run, no where to look but up at you. You have his full attention now instead of his self-deprecating thoughts.

Instinctively he lays his palms on your hips. Your hands rest over them.

“Feel these? These are real love handles, Jiminie. You are more than ten pounds away from having them.”

He would pinch your skin, finally seeing your way of things as you talked yourself down the way he did, relenting to your unconditional love and the way your hips roll over his. And every flaw, perceived or real, would be kissed and held and adored as love blossomed between your unified bodies and locked lips.

Jimin turns the stove off as the first thunder clap erupts. The tall narrow window that spared your humble one-room apartment some few hours of daylight rattles with the vibrations of the building. On cue, rain assaults the glass with such ferocity Jimin pauses his actions as you draw your eyes from his body to the sky.

“I really hope the glue holds.” Jimin mutters as he runs his fingertips along the crease of the window frame. Last time, water collected in the bricks of your old building and caused water damage that your landlord found all too easy to pin on you.

“Grab a hand towel to be safe and stuff it in the corners.” You suggest. Jimin hums and takes a spare one to do just that.

As night arrives in full, the room is cast in a yellow haze offered by the odd lamps you two had found at the nearest thrift shop. That was what made up most of your apartment. A unique arrangement of cheap but practical furniture, not one item matching another. Maybe once upon a time in high school you had created a dozen Pinterest boards of your aesthetically pleasing home. But now, in reality, you had grown to love the story of the life you and Jimin had created together in this hole-in-the-wall home.

“Chopsticks or fork?” Jimin’s soft voice, subdued with a long day’s fatigue, breaks your constant reminiscing. You spot him holding a bowl in hand, the other resting in the single drawer holding plastic take out utensils available.

“Chopsticks.” You answer, pulling your legs from the tangle of blanket and sheets they had become intertwined with, resetting the bed that acted as the main function of your home.

He rolls his eyes. “You don’t know how to use chopsticks.”

“I do too! And if that was true, then why did you ask me?” You retort, playing along to the nightly argument so routine it felt like saying prayer before dinner.

“Because if I don’t you’ll get mad at me for assuming you wanted a fork.” Jimin scoffs, grabbing two pairs of chopsticks despite his own opinion.

“I do not-”

“Or you’ll just steal mine so you can prove to me how much of a mess you make.”

You grin unabashedly but do your best to look horrified by his accusation.

“You’re lucky I love you, Park Jimin.” You accept the bowl and the kiss he leaves on your lips.

“You’re the lucky one.” Jimin yelps at the swat to his butt as he returns to the stove for his own serving.

You set up your laptop, signing in and opening Netflix to find the TV show Jimin and you binged every night like a true married couple. There weren’t many things you guys could afford, but having the small luxury of escaping reality and daydream of another life with the one you love was a price you were willing to subtract for a sense of sanity. In this case, however, it was daydreaming an affordable home in the suburbs. As such, you were in the middle of season two of House Hunters.

Once everything is settled, Jimin sits crossed-leg beside you, his knee brushing yours and thigh keeping your skin warm. As always, you exchange comments between slurps of noodles, sometimes agreeing and other times arguing over the characters’ choices in the story.

During such an argument you go in for a mouthful of noodles without paying attention. What little noodles you manage to grab splash onto your legs, leaving yellow residue and the sting of failure on your skin.

“Jimin…” You stare at the screen ahead of you, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing your guilty expression.

“‘Ere you go, baby.” He pulls out a fork from seemingly no where and having to spare a glance at him to take it, you see he’s doing his best not to smirk but failing triumphantly.

“I ate half my bowl!” You protest as he reaches over with a napkin again from thin air to wipe down your legs as you hold the bowl over his head. ‘I told you so’ glitters in his eyes as clear as day. But being the sweetheart he is, he says nothing. Even if his shoulders shake with internal laughter. He leaves a kiss on your thigh and tosses away the napkin. Then shovels another pile of ramen between his swollen lips.

The rain grows steady, causing you to turn up the volume on your laptop. Finished with his bowl, Jimin sets it on the nightstand and maneuvers your body against him, careful of your hot soup but wrapped up in you all the same. His breath smells heavily of ramen, hot against your neck, but you have no desire to move him, indulging in his mouth leaving little affectionate sucks and kisses from time to time.

As you finish your bowl he takes it for you, setting it with his to be washed later. He turns your chin for another kiss, hands falling to your stomach to rest comfortably. Your hands settle over his, picking at the hangnails on each finger nail. Then tracing the wedding band that clicks against yours every so often.

The episode ends and the rain has quieted to a steady hum. The paper thin walls of your apartment remain standing, although the edges of the wood paneling round your window frame look a bit warped.

“It’ll dry.” Jimin says against your temple, knowing you worry about the landlord finding any and every reason to accuse you of damages in order to take what little savings Jimin and you had saved since graduating college.

“I hope so.”

“You know so.” He squeezes you making you grunt in warning from a full belly. Jimin releases your body and rolls out of bed, ignoring your whines so he can set the dishes in the sink.

You put the laptop away and spread-eagle out on the bed as Jimin turns out each lamp around the room before stepping into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

“Babe, come brush your teeth!” He mumbles with a mouth full of toothpaste.

“No, I’ll do it in the morning.” you whine, rolling under the covers.

You hear Jimin spit into the sink and rinse it down. Shutting off the light he returns, joining you under the covers.

“You’re gross.” He states. You hum, wiggling closer to him and finding your favorite place, face tucked into his neck and leg slotted between his heated thighs. Warm palms resiliently soft after years of blue collar jobs run down your shirt - well, really his shirt from work today - and back up against your skin. Goosebumps dance down your spine and a shiver pushes you closer into Jimin’s heat. He unclips your bra and convinces you to sit up long enough to slide it off. He’s more concerned than you are about the rumors of bra-sleeping health issues but you’re just thankful to breathe easier without it.

You hum a thanks, offering your lips in a goodnight kiss which he takes no matter what he says. Your hands run up and down his chest, one settling between your heartbeats, the other drapes over his neck. The blanket shifts as he adjusts to a better position and sighs.

The steady beat of rain offers a lullaby and you fall asleep in no time. Jimin can feel the steady exhale of warmth against his pectoral. Even if he wakes up in the morning with drool dried down to his stomach, he doesn’t care, pulling you all the more closer as he plays with the ends of your hair. It helps him fall asleep, twirling it around his fingertips, brushing against his palm and offering the scent of home to him. Sometimes it’ll be tucked away, and even still, Jimin will wait until your sound asleep to find a stray to untuck and twirl again and again. It’s not unusual for you to wake up with Jimin’s hand tangled in your hair forcing you to gently extract his fingers with your head bent at odd angles in order to not wake him up.

Jimin is not particularly proud of the place you two presently call home. The building creaks, the room is claustrophobic, and as his wife, you deserve a home where you’re allowed to paint the walls whatever color you like. Bills, unpaid and overdue constantly occupy him. It seems no matter how many hours you pick up or jobs he fits into the week there’s still not enough to give you everything you want. Jimin sighs and bites his lip.

Everything I want for you. He corrects, knowing that the decision to move into a low-income house was part of the plan you both agreed to. In fact, you had suggested it in order to be able to attack those student loans first. Yet Jimin wanted more for the both of you. He wanted you to decorate room after room of a beautiful house that the two of you would grow old together in. He wanted a safe neighborhood in case you wanted kids - or even pets.

He wanted a stable job, a lifelong career he could take joy in and also provide for his wife with. You assured him every day that a future like that awaited you. He just needed to be patient. But how long could you put up with this? How long before your father’s advice crept back in and reminded you how marrying Jimin so young was unwise.

Then again, how could he forget the way you fought for him in front of your entire family at Thanksgiving? - and won them over. How could he forget the excitement in your eyes as he told you his dreams of dancing and telling stories with every fiber of his being. You were nearly pushing him into the dance academy’s administration office. How could he forget the way you made the best of every situation as if it wasn’t your current lifestyle but a game of pretend?

“It’s just for now. Not always.” The words have become your mantra. Even if all the worries of living a comfortable life plagued Jimin every day, he was thankful that he was here with you. He would never regret proposing to you. He would cherish the nights falling asleep next to you in this tiny little room. No matter how many nights there would be.

#jimin x reader #jimin x y/n #bts #jimin scenarios #jimin fluff #jimin one shot fluff #jimin one shot #jimin imagine fluff #jimin imagine #bts park jimin #bts one shots #bts scenarios #bts angst #jimin angst

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rizlowwritessortof · 5 years ago

Text

I’m Good

This is the fic that was published in the Seasons Supernatural short stories anthology a couple of years ago. I realized the other day that I had never posted it on here. Beta’d by my lovely @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan (before that was her url :D)

Characters: Bobby Singer (Bobby’s POV)

Word Count: 1242

Warnings: None, a little angst maybe

Summertime was always my favorite.

Of course, South Dakota has unforgiving winters that last way into spring some years, and fall that usually ends early with a blizzard. Summer’s where all of my good memories live. I married Karen in the summer. Why she ever married me, I’ll never understand. But we loved each other somethin’ fierce, and I always considered myself damn lucky to have her. I mean, after all- I was never anything but a grease monkey with a salvage yard, and the house was smack-dab in the middle of all that. But she always seemed content.

She was always on me for workin’ too hard. She’d come out to the shop, yellin’ my name until I stopped pounding around and looked up. There she’d be, hands on her hips, that stern look on her face. “Bobby Singer, I did not just spend two hours in the kitchen for this food to sit on the table and get cold. Now get to the house, it’s supper time.” I could never help but smile at her, scowling at me like an angry kitten, and then she’d march off to the house. She always got so mad at me when I’d come up behind her and swat her on the butt. “Damn it, Bobby, if you got grease on my dress, I swear...” and I’d just laugh, and give her a kiss, and she never stayed mad very long. That fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, fresh baked biscuits, and pie for dessert… I can almost taste it.

Then there’s the summer John Winchester left his boys with me. Not quite the whole summer, but close enough. That was the summer I started to think of them as my boys.

John loved those kids. He did. But he was a driven man, determined to find and kill what took his Mary away from him and the boys. There were just things he had to do that kids couldn’t be around to witness. So in his own way, he was trying to protect them.

I’ll never forget the day they walked in. Sammy was still just a kid, ten years old or so, all arms and legs and awkward smiles. And Dean... No fourteen-year-old should look that burdened, that worn. I decided, right then and there, that while the boys were here- they were gonna be kids.

Dean even tried to argue with me at first. “But Dad said...” I never even let him finish his sentence.

“Look. While you’re here, you follow my rules. And I say you two are gonna get the hell out of this house and go have some fun. Take the poles, go fishing. Or just go exploring. Now get outta here, and don’t let me see your faces again until supper.” And when Dean looked at me, still hesitant, I added, “Don’t worry, kid. As far as your Dad will know, you did exactly what he said while he was gone. Okay?”

Dean took Sam with him everywhere. They came home one day, excited about exploring the abandoned farm down the road, making their own little hideaway in the old barn. They went fishing in the creek, even caught enough for a meal a couple of times. Sometimes I’d look out the window and see the boys just lying in the grass and watching the clouds.

Sure, I asked Dean to help me overhaul an engine or two, give me a hand doing some body work, like his face didn’t light up at the suggestion. Dean was right at home under a hood, or beneath a car, lost himself completely in the challenge of figuring out why it was doing what it was doing. There was pure joy in his eyes at the sound of that broken-down Plymouth sputtering to life when he turned the key. That thing ran just as smooth as when it was new. And when I clapped a hand on the boy’s shoulder, told him, “Good job, son” - that kid’s face just glowed.

Sam asked a lot of questions. I answered him as well as I knew how, leaving out all the details that I could, tried to cushion the blow. I tiptoed around the big stuff, and taught him what I could about the lore. Sam never asked his questions in front of Dean. I didn’t know at the time if that was Sam sparing himself an ass-chewing, or sparing his big brother the worry. Knowing those two as well as I do now, I know it was the latter.

Yeah, Dean put on a good act. He liked to tell stories about John’s hunts, about the few he’d been there for, like it was all some big adventure. Like watching his dad battle some monster out of every kid’s nightmares, helping patch up John’s injuries, didn’t scare the hell out of him. He’d put on like he’d take Sam apart if he didn’t toe the line, but Dean would never let anything hurt Sam if he could throw himself in front of it first. I could read him right from the start, see the heart underneath all that tough guy bullshit, the part Dean didn’t want anyone to see.

Like the deer hunting incident. I took the boys out in the woods one day. Dean had a bead on a beauty, a big doe, but he wouldn’t pull the trigger. I watched that kid chew at his lip, refusing to look me in the eye, as he claimed he didn’t have a shot.

“She bolted right when I was gonna pull the trigger, Bobby. I didn’t have a shot, okay?” The kid was embarrassed, and half-pissed off, and I put my hand on his shoulder, gave it a squeeze to let him know it was okay.

“Hey, kid, no big deal. Do you know how many deer I’ve actually shot at and missed? Hell, happens to all of us.”

And the night I overheard the boys talking after they’d crawled into bed for the night. I could hear Sam, sounded like he was crying. Dean’s voice was quiet, but I heard every word.

“Sammy, Dad’s fine. He’ll be back. Promise. Sometimes he just gets busy, he forgets how long he’s been gone. But he’ll be back.”

“But what if one of those monsters he hunts… what if something killed him?”

Dean snorted. “Shit, Sam. No monster’s gonna kill Dad. He’s the best hunter there is. Just ask Bobby tomorrow, I bet he’ll tell you the same thing. Dad’ll be back as soon as he can, Sammy. Just stop worrying, okay?”

Yeah. That was a good summer.

And then there were the hunting trips with Rufus, that son of a bitch. “Bobby, that is not how you kill a rugaru. I oughta know, I’ve killed enough of ‘em.”

“Right. Like you’ve ever even seen one. You gotta burn ‘em, dumbass.”

“Fine, we’ll try it your way. But when you find out I’m right, you owe me a bottle of the good stuff.”

“And when I find out you’re wrong?”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

We never did anything but argue, but damned if he wasn’t the best friend I ever had.

I guess my Heaven don’t look like much to most people. But I got some Johnny Cash on the old radio, my comfy chair, a glass of Jack, and an eternity to spend on my memories. I’m good.

~~~~~~~~~~

@saenalife @deanscarlett @misswhizzy @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @geeklibrarian @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @aprofoundbondwithdean @mamapeterson @mrswhozeewhatsis @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sleep-silent-angel @darcia22 @winchesterprincessbride @ackeviddlestan @ellen-reincarnated1967 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @deanslittleangel2y5 @melanie451 @lovin-ackles @spectaculacular-sammy @bookchic20 @jodyri @selma-jean @savingapplepie-eatingthings @angelofwinchester17 @kittenofdoomage @masked-maiden42 @lean-mean-deanwinchester @ericuhlorain @undecided-garden @ceeceewinchester @typicalweirdbookworm @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit @youtoldalie @tanithlowisabamf @deandoesthingstome @jxackles @nerdwholikesword @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic @kreweofimp @gabavaldman @chaos-and-the-calm67 @darkx143 @disassociativedogma @ioanashalala @jencharlan @deansthirst @dorky-and-i-know-it @mischief-maker1 @hamartiamacguffin @winchestersandwordprocessors @percussiongirl2017 @bringmesomepie56 @akshi8278 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @torn-and-frayed @sandlee44 @kathaswings @evansrogerskitten @emoryhemsworth @peaceinourtime82

#i'm good #bobby fic #gen fic #from seasons spn short story anthology #angst #weechesters #bobby's memories

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ezmodo · 6 years ago

Text

Calling Home

(Happy Mother’s Day!)

https://zaheela.tumblr.com/post/184836905126/part-two-of-the-commissions-from-ezmodo-for-a

Summer Rose lay propped up against the base of a tree and studied the faces of her family.

Tai smiled up at her even as their daughter Yang shoved a palm painfully into his cheek. He was the rock of their family, switching from active field huntsman to teacher at Signal so he could be home for the girls while Summer went on missions for Ozpin. He did it all, from cooking to cleaning to training to pigtail fixing, and he did it all happily on top of teaching full-time. Summer had worries aplenty while out on missions but, thanks to Tai, her daughters were never one of them.

Yang, her sunshine, pushed unceremoniously off of her father’s face as she smiled back at the camera. Summer only met Yang after Raven had left and she couldn’t understand how anyone could leave such a perfect little girl behind. After moving in, she was worried - could she really be Yang’s mother? Would she ever be good enough? But the first time Summer heard ‘mama’ all those fears melted away, replaced by a warmth that threatened to overwhelm her. That time and every time since, hearing Yang call her that made Summer’s heart swell. She would forever be proud to call herself Yang’s mother.

And finally her precious Ruby, so excited to be taking a picture that she couldn’t settle herself in the frame. Summer thought Yang was an endless bundle of energy but Ruby could run even her ragged. She followed her sister everywhere - if Yang was doing something, Ruby needed to be doing it too. Even down to the pigtails, though Ruby’s hair was too short for them. Otherwise, she was definitely her mother’s child. She was growing so fast and guilt gnawed at Summer everytime she came home to see her little girl suddenly so much bigger, so different. She looked into Ruby’s eyes, bright and silver, so much like her own.

Summer’s eyelids began to sink as she felt herself slipping, torn cloak bunching up against her neck as she slid further down the tree. It would be so easy to let herself slide the rest of the way down until her head rested on the grass. Just a moment to rest her eyes, to give her the strength to…

She bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood as she forced herself up. Her left arm lay uselessly at her side, broken in more places than one. Her right arm burned as she pushed and clawed her way back into a sitting position. The attempt felt like it drained what little strength she had left. The pain in her tattered right arm began to feel muted and far away. It was a warm spring day and yet Summer felt the cold settle in, the chill creeping up her limbs.

She pawed blindly for her scroll, panic flaring briefly before her hand brushed against it. She thumbed through the menus until she found where she needed to be. The faces of her family smiled up at her again, though smaller and surrounded by various buttons and options. The contact name was simply Home. Where she should be. Summer paused, thumb trembling over the call button.

You’ll hurt them.

They deserve to know.

You’ll break his heart.

He’s strong. He’ll be strong for them.

Is this the last memory you want to leave them?

I’m scared.

The tears were coming but Summer couldn’t lift her arm high enough to wipe them away. Some big bad huntress you are, she thought bitterly as she wept. Finally stifling her crying, she found the option she wanted - audio only - and hit call. She grimaced as she lifted the scroll and rested it on the bloody ruin of her stomach, trying to steady her breathing while she waited for the call to connect.

---

“Daaaaaaaaad! Your scroll is going off!”

“Bring it here!” Tai shouted back as he tried to wrangle his youngest daughter. “Stay still, missy. You wanted a cool cloak, right?”

Ruby vibrated in place as her father finished fixing her ‘cloak’, a large white pillow case pinned to the girl’s shoulders. As small as she was the pillow case reached down past her knees, though it looked more like a cape a superhero would wear than a proper cloak.

“Okay darling, I think the huntress is ready for action.”

Ruby jumped forward and spun on her heel, striking her best hero pose. “Am I cool?!” she asked excitedly. The effect was mostly lost as the girl struggled to stay still, sock-covered feet slipping on the hardwood.

“Super cool,” Tai agreed, giving his daughter a thumbs up. “Just like Mom. Take your socks off if you guys are playing inside, okay? You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Kay!” she shouted happily before dashing off, slipping and sliding in her socks down the hall to her room. Tai heaved a sigh from the couch as he watched her go.

“Hello, Mama? Helllloooooo?”

His eldest came in from the kitchen with his scroll pressed to her ear and he couldn’t help but snort at her getup. Yang would be playing the terrifying Grimm to Ruby’s huntress, it seemed, and Yang did her best to look the part. A black trash bag was pulled down over her head, holes cut out of the sides for her arms to stick through. A pair of pink heart sunglasses completed her transformation into the dreaded Grimm Yang.

Yang held the scroll out to him. “It says it’s Mama but no one’s saying anything.”

“Maybe she butt dialed,” he said, rolling his eyes when Yang snorted at him saying ‘butt’. “Or the reception’s bad. Lemme see.”

Audio only? Probably poor signal. “Summer? You there babe?”

Yang made a gagging noise and he swatted playfully at the girl. “The huntress is ready,” he whispered to his daughter. “Better go ambush her.”

Yang gave a big nod and snuck off down the hall as quietly as the trash bag would let her. He waited for Yang’s roar and Ruby’s happy squeal before turning his attention back to his scroll.

“Summer?” he asked again, listening. The line wasn’t entirely silent. He could hear breathing on the other end, definitely Summer’s. Maybe she couldn’t talk? He waited, listening as her breathing finally slowed and she forcefully cleared her throat.

“I-I’m here,” she said with a sniffle. “Sorry. Think the pollen’s really bad or something.”

“Mission already wrapped up? Wasn’t expecting you to call until tomorrow morning. You done on your end?”

There was a brief pause before she responded. “Yup...I’m done here.”

“Sweet!” Tai said, rising from the couch. “Think you’ll be back by tomorrow? I’ve been dying to see you. The girls have been too.”

“Not tomorrow,” she said, quietly. “How are the girls doing?”

“Terrors as always. They’re playing huntress now, a miniature Summer Rose vs a...Beringel, I think?” he laughed. “It was kind of hard to tell. Here, let me get them.”

Tai held the scroll away from his face as to not shout in his wife’s ear. “Giiiiiiirrrrrllllllsss! Come talk to your mother!”

Yang barreled into him as he made his way to the girls’ shared room, jumping to snatch the scroll from his hands.

“Hey Mama!” the girl shouted. Noticing her father’s wince, she lowered her voice apologetically. “Sorry. Hey, Mama. You win?”

There was a short pause before Yang responded. “Yup! Me and Ruby are playing. I’m a Grimm and-”

Tai smiled as he watched his daughter pace up and down the hall, rambling excitedly at her mother. Tai was terrified for Yang when Raven left. No mother and a half-assed dad wasn’t what she deserved. But then Summer came. Summer was more than Raven could ever dare to be, becoming the wife he would never be worthy of and the mother Yang deserved.

“-and I told him if he pulled my hair I’d punch him right in the face and he went and pulled my hair so I kinda HAD to punch him in the face and-”

Tai nodded proudly. Summer might not approve, and the principal definitely didn’t, but the sooner boys learned to keep their hands off his daughter the better. Besides, Yang could get away with punching boys her age. The police might have words if Tai was the one who had to do it.

Yang paused to catch her breath but Tai caught her before she could start a new barrage on Summer. “Okay okay, you can tell her the rest when she gets home. Get your sister.”

“Fiiiiiine. Love you Mama, bye!” Yang said, handing the scroll back to Tai before skipping down to her room and poking her head inside. “Mama’s calling!”

Ruby dashed out of the room covered from head to toe in weapons. She had no less than three plastic swords jammed down the front of her pants, a bow strung across her chest, and a squirt pistol in each hand. Tai offered the scroll to her but she just stood on her tiptoes instead, bringing her mouth close to the receiver.

“Busy fighting monsters Mama, can’t talk, byyyyeeeeeee!”

She dashed past him into the living room, turning to fire pretend shots at her Grimm sister. Yang roared in response and gave chase.

“Ruby!” he shouted angrily after the brat.

“Looooooovvvvveeeeeee yooooooooouuuuuuu!” she called back, voice fading as she pounded her way up the stairs.

Tai grunted as he lifted the scroll back to his ear. “I swear, that girl. So, how’d the mission go? If not tomorrow, when do you think you’ll be back?”

At first there was no response. And then he heard sniffles quickly give way to heaving sobs as Summer broke down.

“Summer? Summer!” he shouted. Looking to the girls’ room, he blocked his mouth and whispered urgently. “What’s wrong? What happened? Talk to me.”

She either didn’t hear him or just couldn’t respond as she sobbed into his ear. Panic was starting to gnaw at his stomach. Summer could be emotional when it came to the girls, but never like this, never while still out in the field.

She went on for some time, Tai muttering what comfort he could to her. It didn’t seem to help as she continued to cry, occasionally gasping as she tried to catch her breath. Finally she started to settle, her long shaky breaths filling him with dread.

“Summer,” he repeated. “What happened?”

“I…I...” she stuttered, “I-I’m sorry. I messed up. I won’t...I’m…”

Tai felt an icy fist grip his heart. “I need to run next door!” he yelled up the stairs, already tearing the front door open. “Stay inside and lock the door after me!”

He didn’t wait for his daughters to reply before he was out the door, leaping down the front steps, and tearing down the dirt path towards the next house down the road. Their nearest neighbors were over a mile away, not far at all for him. The fist around his heart squeezed down harder and he dug in, pushing as hard as he could.

“Tai,” she whispered in his ear, “don’t, there’s nothing-”

“Where are you?” he panted, cutting her off.

“I-I don’t know. I was lured away from the village and got lo- lost,” she moaned. “I think it was a semblance. They got me turned around and-”

“They?”

“Huntsmen. S-six. I got them Tai, but…” she gave a forced laugh that tore at his gut. “But they got me too.”

“Where’s Qrow?” he asked, mind racing. Anytime she teamed up with anyone it was with Qrow. He’d be closest, he’d be able to do something.

“Different mission,” she replied, voice strained. “Different continent.”

“Raven! She can-”

“She won’t,” Summer answered, voice thick as she started to cry again. “You know she won’t. I stole her family from her, she won’t-”

“The only reason we have a family is because of you!”

His vision swam with unshed tears as he continued to sprint down the dirt path. Halfway there, just a bit more. He’d call Ozpin, he’d call Raven, anyone that would bring Summer back home again.

“Tai.”

His stomach twisted as he ignored her. One arm pumping, he ran harder.

“Tai, please. Please.”

He wouldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t let their children lose her.

“Tai!” she shouted, and the anguish in her voice caused him to slow. “Please, say something.”

“Keep fighting,” he choked out as he stumbled to a stop. “I can’t lose you. The girls need you.”

He was crying now, ugly sobs that rooted him to the spot. He could hear his wife doing the same.

“Tai,” she finally managed. “I-”

“I love you, Summer,” he interrupted. “I love you so damn much.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion. “You’ll tell the girls, won’t you? Tell them how much I love them.”

“They know, they know,” he said, fresh tears pouring down his face.

“Ruby’s so little,” she cried. “She’ll forget me.”

“She won’t,” he argued. “You’re her mom. She loves you. She’ll never forget you.”

“You have to tell them,” Summer begged. “Everyday. Tell them.”

“I will,” he promised. “Every single day. They’ll know how much their mama loves them.”

“Thank you,” she whispered over and over again as she wept.

“We’ll be alright,” he lied. The girls took after their mother. They were strong. He wasn’t. “Don’t you worry.”

He stumbled off the path and found a tree. Letting the rough bark scrape his back, he sunk down to the ground. Summer’s cries slowed and eventually she let out a long, shaky breath.

“Tai…?” she asked quietly.

“I’m here, love.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.

He told her stories from school, about the garden he was finally going to start, and their plans for the following weekend. But mostly he talked about their daughters. He kept talking late into the afternoon as the sun began to set and he continued on, long after Summer Rose fell silent.

#rwby #summer rose #taiyang xiao long #ruby rose #yang xiao long #mother's day #writing

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skeletorific · 8 years ago

Note

How would Raspberry react if Salt's store was being robbed and Salt and the rest of their co-workers were being held hostage while they robbed it?

YAAAAS Saltberry makes a long-awaited (okay maybe just by me) comeback. Anyways, I’m setting this after Rasp has been nurturing this crush for a few months, and most of the staff is pretty familiar with him at this point. This’ll be written from the perspective of Salt. Forgive me length gods, I couldn’t resist a mini-fic

You know, when they cover what to do in the event of a hostage situation, most of us just laugh it off during orientation.

Because really, who’s gonna try? This isn’t LA or some shit like that. This is a crummy department store, in a shitty mall, in the middle of stars-who-cares. The closest we get to importance is we’re right at the foot of Ebott, but really, before monsters left and we all discovered maybe they weren’t as shitty as we all thought, who wanted to live next to a hive of potential bloodsuckers that could crack open at any minute?

So yeah, they cover it in orientation. Procedures, tactics to avoid enraging the assailant, how to spot a bulge that might be a gun. Its always a joke among the new kids on that day of training. They point to men with baggy shirts and say in mock serious tones “Better keep an eye on that one.” I did the same thing. You delete the information to leave space for the shit-ton of buttons on the cash register and uniform regulations you need to remember and move on with your day.

So needless to say, when the guy pulled a gun on Sadie and started screaming at all of us to get on the ground, we didn’t exactly move in orderly fashion.

I was just at the next till when it happened. Why didn’t I spot the gun bulge? Well, truth be told, I was fantasizing about leaving. Just ten minutes left of my shift. Could’ve been on my way home, heard about it on the news. Now instead I’m sitting quietly where he can see me, phone and shoes in a pile with the others’ in the middle of the floor. Two other guys had come out of the woodwork and were helping him keep us in line.

The first guy made Lin and Marcus bar the doors to make sure security didn’t get in. At that point all of us were just trying to do what he said. All of us were essentially shaking in our boots and just going obediently with what he said. So they both got up, started barring doors…..and then Marcus had to be a hero and yell out the front door for Paul, the closest mall cop, to do something. Got a bullet in his shoulder for his trouble.

That’s when it went from a shitty event to a nightmare.

Fortunately, Dani, our manager, knows a thing or two about first aid. The guy with the gun let her patch Marcus up (poor guy was in a lot of pain, but trying to be brave. Or maybe he was just stupid.) But that didn’t solve the problem outside.

Paul, fortunately, knew better than to charge in guns blazing. He called the cops (I assume) because pretty soon the closest thing our town has to a SWAT team showed up. A bunch of guys in dark blue, all posted outside with guns drawn, trying to look like they knew what the hell they were doing.

If I sound bitter…..yeah, I am. But in this case its more coping than just my usual sparkling personality shining through. I think I find it easier to deal with stuff if I make fun of people who are there for the stuff.

Anyways, the guy was one step ahead, clearly. He set us up with shifts. We would all take turns taking long pacing walks in front of all the entrances, windows, and exits, thus providing no clear line of fire. Meanwhile, he got on the phone with their negotiator (who must have been thrilled that his job title suddenly had purpose) and started swapping deals. He kept his henchmen patrolling around, making sure we didn’t sneak off.

Guess who got to be part of the human shield?

I was near the back exit, walking back and forth across the open fire exits. I took in the sight of the store.

Aside from the Three Stooges there weren’t that many customers left. It had almost been closing time (something I figure could only be cruel irony on God’s behalf). Most of them were just the staff. Marcus was leaned against a stack of soda boxes. The makeshift bandage Dani had made out of pads and duct tape was already starting to soak through, but he had on a shaky smile as he chattered with the manager. Dani was trying her best to hold it together (always the natural leader my high school had been so enthusiastic about) but her stress was showing, understandably. Sadie was a sobbing mess on the floor and trying to get a handle on herself. She was pretty shook up from a gun being drawn on her. One of the customers had an arm around her and was trying to calm her down.

One of the henchman was pacing pretty close to me for a while, but I think he figured I was no Marcus and so went to go check something with his Boss. That was when I suddenly heard a swift beating of footsteps and suddenly a tap on my shoulder.

I turned fast, ready to tell that person to get the hell out, when I found myself face to face with a skeleton a couple of inches shorter than me.

There was a time that sentence would have been cause for confusion.

But this was Sans, one of the monsters that had moved in when that Chara kid freed the Underground. I saw him a lot around the store with his brother, Papyrus. They hung around almost every day for some reason. We weren’t exactly friends (I’m a firm believer in not having friends that have anything to do with this dead-end job) but he was decent company and seemed to find me less annoying than most people here.

“Sans, what the he-” he put a finger to his….teeth I guess (I’m still no expert on skeleton anatomy terms) and pointed up to the ceiling. Quicker than I could blink (or fortunately, henchman #1 could turn to see him) he disappeared into a nearby vent shaft, just big enough for his small form. Depite being so small (or perhaps because of it) he could move pretty fast when he wanted to. He crawled along the vent shaft as I continued pacing, heart pounding slightly.

“WHAT HAPPENED.” he said, his muttering voice muffled somewhat by the metal shield. “I HEARD REPORTS OF POLICE OUTSIDE THE STORE BUT DIDN’T WAIT AROUND TO FIND OUT WHY.”

“See the three guys with the guns?” I said, trying to move my mouth as little as possibly (never had those ventriloquism skills of my Uncle Pat been so enviable). An affirmative grunt came from the vent. “Yeah, they’re the problem. Where’s your brother?”

“LURKING, AS USUAL.” For a guy who usually made so much noise he was quiet as all hell crawling along those vents. “HE’LL COME WHEN I SIGNAL.”

“Look, I appreciate the help, but are you sure you want to do this?” I looked at Marcus again. “These guys have already shown they’re not shy about firing those things.”

There was a low chuckle, that I swear to hell legitimately said MWAH HA HA. “TRUST ME, WE’VE DEALT WITH WORSE. HAVE THEY HURT YOU?”

“No, I’m fi-”

“Hey! Who’re you talking to?”

Shit. Henchman #2 strides towards me, pistol waving at his side menacingly.

“Uh….n-no one, I wasn’t….wasn’t talking.”

“Don’t bullshit me, I saw your fucking lips move!”

“I…I….” I did my best to look scared stupid. Wasn’t much of a reach. “I was praying!”

The guy looked at me disbelievingly and then rolled his eyes. Suddenly he caught sight of my name tag. “Hey, Jack.” he said, and Henchman #1 looked over. “This one’s a supervisor. Bet they know how to get into that safe in the office.” He shoved the pistol under my jaw and I swear I heard a low growling noise from the vent, or maybe it was just the AC kicking in. “Can you open it?”

“Um…I….” Hand one: I do not want to go any fucking where with this guy. Hand the other: based on the gun-waving I don’t like my odds if I lie. “Yes!”

“Dude, I don’t know, I think boss said not to leave the main area….” Jack said, looking nervously at the guy on the phone.

“I’ll be quick.” he said dismissively, pressing a gun to my head and shoving me forward. “They’re the only one we’ve found who could even open the damn thing anyways, and the cops are taking to damn long.”

I trot forward, shaking slightly. I look sidelong at Dani. She had to borrow a uniform shirt today since her manager’s shirt was in the wash, which was likely why they hadn’t picked her out. There was a deeply selfish part of me that wanted to throw this on her, but even I’m not that much of a scumbag. I just pray Sans works out whatever he’s doing with his brother soon.

We continue on into the manager’s office, and I’m shoved down none too lightly by the safe where I start shakily working on the combination. Its an old keypad lock that doesn’t always remember you pushed the buttons you pushed, so I have to keep trying the combination.

Despite his gung-ho attitude moments before Pistol isn’t looking too self-assured at the moment. He keeps looking over his shoulder like he’s expecting his boss to burst in and yell at him, and he’s telling me to hurry up. My mind’s racing, trying to figure out how I can use this to my advantage but with the muzzle point blank I don’t think there’s much I can do.

“What the fuck is taking so long?”

“I….I don’t know.” I know for sure I entered the combination right the past three times, what is……I freeze. Once a year we’re required to rotate out the combination. Today was that day, and Dani hadn’t had the chance to tell me today.

“I…..can’t do it.”

“What?!”

“They changed the combination.” Much as I hate myself for it my hands are shaking. Holy shit I could get shot over this. “I can’t get in.”

“You piece of shit!” Suddenly there’s a blow like the hand of God on the side of my head, and there’s a moment when I think I’m already dead as I land on my back. But he didn’t shoot me, just smacked me with the butt of his gun so hard stars are lining my vision. “Why the fuck did you tell me you could?”

He’s approaching me, hands poised to strike again, and all I can do is look away, head throbbing in pain.

A smack, a grunt, and a thud. None of which were connected with me and my person.

Tentatively, I open my eyes. Sans is crouching in front of me, Pistol on the ground, dead or unconscious, I don’t know. “ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

“I….” I blink hard a few times, the pain distracting from everything else, but in this instance I know ‘fine’ means mobile, not actually fine. “Yeah….”

He puts up three gloved fingers. “HOW MANY PHALANGES?”

“Three…”

He helps me to my feet and turns my head to inspect the wound. “A BIT OF BLOOD, BUT I DON’T THINK YOU’LL HAVE A CONCUSSION FOR THIS. YOU’RE VERY LUCKY.”

“Is that what I am?” I say, chuckling ruefully and wincing immediately after.

“OF COURSE.” He says it matter of factly, releasing my head. “I’M HERE NOW.”

I pause. “….Right. So, uh,” I look at the still unmoving Pistol. “Thanks for the save and everything, but do we have a plan.”

“WE’VE HAD A PLAN FROM THE MOMENT I WALKED IN, YOU BEING CAPTURED JUST DETOURED IT SLIGHTLY.” He picked up the gun and handed it to me. “HERE. YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE TO USE IT, BUT JUST IN CASE.”

“Um….don’t you want it?” Out of the two of us he strikes me as the one more likely to know how to aim and shoot it, but he looks mildly offended.

“DO I LOOK LIKE I NEED YOUR PITI-….HUMAN WEAPONS?” he said.

“Alright, alright, tough guy.” I say, taking the gun. I know I’m probably holding it wrong, but the weight does feel secure in my hands. “Now what.”

He pulled out his phone and started texting. “TIME FOR MY BROTHER TO START PULLING HIS WEIGHT.”

There’s a joke here about how much a skeleton can weigh, all told, but I don’t know if that’s offensive or not. He sends the text and then stands patiently.

“……Is something supposed to be-”

He cut me off by holding up a single finger, smirking like he knew exactly how cool he was going to look in just a second.

A thunderous boom from the next room, followed by someone yelling “WHAT THE FUCK!”

We both run out of the office to see his brother Papyrus standing in the middle of the room, hand raised over his head, and what looks like a giant bony dragon head floating by him, mouth charged with energy. Jack is already down, smelling like singed hair, while Sans’ pet pig stands triumphantly over his body. Their boss is shakily pointing a gun at him, looking terrified. Papyrus has a quiet smirk on his face, clearly somewhat relishing the situation. The customers look freaked out, but most of the staff just look relieved.

“GOOD WORK.” Sans says. “NOW LET’S FI-”

Panicked, the boss had whipped around and fired, I suddenly felt myself being shoved out of the way, hitting the ground, and a sudden groan of pain. When I look up, Sans is clutching his arm and gritting his teeth.

“Chief!” Papyrus yells. With a sudden fury, he turns the Blaster on the guy, hitting his with a blast of energy so bright it’s blinding. The boss collapses to the ground….and based on the smell I don’t think he’s getting back up.

But no time to think about that now. I get to my feet. “Holy shit, Sans….”

He’s groaning in pain and trying not to show it, but there’s a thin pallor of sweat on his skull somehow. Near as I can tell it just clipped his arm, but there are red numbers hovering over his head are growing smaller and smaller at an alarming rate. .6666. .5555. It holds steady at .45555 but he’s looking decidedly worse for wear and suddenly has to lean against me for support. He looks….oddly vulnerable, for a guy I’m used to seeing as just this unstoppable force of terror.

I don’t have long think about this, though. His brother comes and picks him up, looking torn between worry and exasperation. “Come on, you little idiot.” he mutters, taking off his jacket and wrapping him up in it. It smells like the cigarettes Dani’s always having to tell him not to smoke in the store. “Let’s get you patched up.”

“Uh…wait.” I say. All around me, people are starting to get up. The cops seem to know the threat’s been handled enough, so they’re charging in, and its a flurry of chaos and activity. “Can I….come with?”

“We’ll be okay.” he say, but then he catches a look at my face. I don’t know what he sees there, but I think he can tell I’m trying to pay them back best I can. “Alright, grab my arm.”

I do, a little nervously. I’ve seen him teleport before, but this’ll be my first time experiencing it. There’s a sudden tingling sensation….and I find myself in front of a small house. Papyrus brushes past me and knocks on the door.

A scaly blue woman with fish eyes and bright red hair opens it. “What are you doing here, it’s the middle of….” she sees the bundle in his arms. “Oh.” she sounds oddly neutral. Like its normal for him to show up with injured people.

“Its just a graze, but….”

“The 1 HP?”

Papyrus remains silent.

The woman sighs and opens the door wider, letting him walk past. He goes inside, and I follow. She suddenly pushes the door against me a little, looking suspicious.

“That’s Salt, they’re a friend.” Papyrus says, settling his brother on the couch and pulling his jacket off of him. “Let them in.”

The woman examines me up and down and then walks away, ignoring me to check on Sans but not stopping me. I walk in, closing the door behind me and standing awkwardly at the entrance to the living room. The fish woman is examining Sans with sure but curious fingers.

“You sure you won’t let me experiment a bit?” she says. “Might be able to find a way to help with that little….inadequacy of his….”

Papyrus growls in the back of his throat.

“Fine, fine.” She says it like this is a game she plays with him quite a bit. “He should be fine. A few ITEMs and some bed rest.”

“Babe, who was at the door?” The gravelly voice behind me makes me jump a bit and I turn to see a yellow dinosaur chick (I think it’s a chick). She’s a mass of scars and muscles, and a couple of inches taller than Sans. She glares at me with confusion.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Um…I’m….”

“I’m in here, Alphys.” The fish woman says, starting to tie a bandage around Sans’ humerus (since they’d started hanging around so much I’d been brushing up on my skeleton anatomy, all though who knows if they even called the bones the same thing.) He was starting to regain consciousness. “Ignore the human, they’re with Sans and Papyrus.”

Alphys nods like this settles it and pushes past me, standing solidly in the middle of the room. “What happened to you, runt? Somebody finally get tired of your mouth opening?”

Sans growled tiredly, eyelids flickering, and she chuckled. Despite the causticity I couldn’t really sense any malice for him in her voice.

“Just tell me you at least gave them worse.”

“DAMN RIGHT.” he said. He neglected to mention Papyrus was the one “giving them worse” but the taller skeleton didn’t seem to feel the need to protest. Suddenly his eyelights latched on me and he flushed somewhat (don’t ask me how the fuck that’s possible). “I…..I DIDN’T REALIZE YOU WERE HERE.”

Slowly, I came a bit closer. “Papyrus let me hitch a ride. How are you doing?”

“FINE.” he said quickly. Papyrus snorted, earning him a resentful look from his brother.

I kneeled by the couch, just to the fish lady’s right. “You….really saved my skin back there. Everyone’s skin, really. We could’ve been trapped there forever if you and Papyrus hadn’t come so….thanks.”

He makes steady eye contact with me for a minute, then turns away. “IT WAS NO TROUBLE. IT WOULD BE REGRETTABLE IF WE HAD TO SWITCH STORES. TEACUP WON’T EAT ANY OTHER BRAND OF FOOD.”

Papyrus’ eye sockets widened suddenly. “Shit!” and he suddenly disappeared.

Alphys raised a brow. “What was that about?”

It hit me. “Damn it, we left Teacup!”

Sans’ eyes went wide and he looked furious. “WHAT?!”

Papyrus appeared a minute later with the pig, who calmly trotted over to her Master to snuffle worriedly at his side.

“YOU IDIOT! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, LEAVING HER, ANYTHING COULD’VE HAPPENED!”

Papyrus took the chastising, looking apologetic. I felt bad for him, so I stepped in, scratching behind Teacup’s ears. “He was just worried about you. Besides, can you imagine anything hurting this little porker? She’d trample them before they got the chance.”

He looked both surprised and mollified. “I….YES, TEACUP IS ADMIRABLY TRAINED, BUT STILL, THAT’S NO EXCUSE TO-”

“Actually” I said, trying to keep the conversation off yelling at his brother. “Just had a thought, I should really do something to thank you.”

It startled him. “THERE….THERE’S NO NEED TO-”

“Nah, it’d be my pleasure. Come on, what can I do for ya?”

Sans looked ready to protest when Papyrus cut in. “How about you just come over some night to cook dinner for us and we’ll call it even.”

Sans shot him a look. “It’d be my pleasure.” I said, standing up. “Does tomorrow night sound alright to you? I’m pretty sure we’ll be closed. Even if we aren’t I think I’m taking a day off regardless.”

His mouth flapped open and closed for a second before he turned aside, flushing slightly. “…..TOMORROW NIGHT IS FINE.” he turned back. “I WARN YOU, MY COOKING STANDARDS ARE NOT EASILY MET.”

“Well, I’ll be happy to accept any tips.” I said, smiling slightly. I checked my phone’s clock. “Oh, shit, I should be getting home, my roommate’s gonna be worried sick.”

“I can take you home.” Papyrus said.

“Alright, cool.” I gave Teacup one last pat (she snorted appreciatively but kept her attention on Sans) and smiled one last time at Sans. “Seriously, thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He didn’t say anything, just nodded.

Papyrus put a hand on my shoulder, the tingling sensation returned, and suddenly we were outside my apartment.

“Our schedule’s pretty open tomorrow.” he told me. He gave me his number. “Just text us when you’re ready.”

“Alright. Thanks for the lift, and…..well, everything over the past couple of hours.”

He gave a quiet smile. “Like Chief would let anything get between Teacup and her treats.”

I laughed. “Well, happy to be of service. Good night.”

“Good night.” he said, and with that disappeared.

I honestly kind of liked this story. May do the follow-up story at some point about the dinner date, actually. Let me know if you guys would be interested in that.

#sf!sans #salt #saltberry #raspberry vs.retail #mini-fic #hostage situation

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defenselesswriter · 7 years ago

Text

The Wrong Side of Reality Chapter 14

updated every monday. here’s chapter one with links to all previous chapters. on ao3. follow the tag #the wrong side of reality for any writing/posting updates

Laura: Heard you’re finally taking my brother out tonight

Stiles: Pretty sure he’s taking me out ;)

Laura: What are you gonna wear?

Stiles: Uhhhh...clothes?

Apparently that wasn’t the right answer because Laura promptly calls him. “I’m on my way,” she says before he can even greet her.

“On your way where?” Stiles asks, confused.

“To you, duh,” she tells him, and Stiles can see the roll of her eyes.

“Why?” He always feel ten steps behind when it comes to Laura.

She sighs. “Stiles. Are you trying to annoy me?”

“No, I’m just naturally good at it.”

That gets her to laugh. “I’m coming over to help you get dressed. You gotta dress to impress.”

“I thought I already impressed Derek enough to ask me out?” Stiles says slowly. To be honest, the whole thing hasn’t really sunk in yet. It doesn’t feel real, which scares Stiles a little. Does it not feel real because he is in shock, or does it not feel real because...?

He doesn’t want to think of the other option, so he doesn’t. He focuses on the fact that Laura is coming over, “Do you have an ETA?”

“Five minutes,” she says, and before he can question why she is so close, she explains. “I was already out grabbing food before spending the weekend at the house.”

“Got it.” He stands up and walks over to his closet. Suddenly, nothing in there seems like it’s good enough. “Door is open whenever you get here.” They hang up after that, and Stiles starts rifling through his drawers. Everything is in disarray when Laura gets up to his room.

“Looks like a tornado came through here,” she says with a laugh, putting her bag and food down on Stiles’ desk. “Let’s see what we can do...” She walks over and starts going through his clothes. Stiles watches from the sidelines as she picks out a couple of sweaters and a black v-neck he forgot he had.

Next, she rifles through his jeans and holds a pair up against him. She frowns as she judges him carefully. “Try these on,” she demands, handing over the pants and turning around so he can have some sort of privacy.

“So bossy,” Stiles mumbles under his breath.

“Heard that!” Laura calls out from where she is staring in his closet.

“How?” Stiles asks, surprised. It wasn’t even loud enough to be considered a whisper.

She taps her ears. “Super hearing,” she says. “Are you decent?”

“No, but I’m dressed,” he says, so she turns around.

She is frowning again, which Stiles isn’t taking as a good sign. “Do you have anything that, you know, fits?”

He looks down at his jeans. Sure, they’re a little baggy, but they’re not falling off. “These fit,” he defends, looking back up at Laura.

She sighs, shaking her head. “Turn around,” she commands, waving her finger in a circle. He follows her demand and turns around. He swears he can feels eyes on his butt when his back is facing Laura. Once he’s facing her again, she’s frowning again.

“What?” Stiles asks, his voice loud and almost whiney.

“Your ass is hidden in those jeans,” she tells him and then picks up another pair, inspecting them. When she looks up, she doesn’t look happy, but she throws the pair in her hands on the bed and picks up another pair. “These are all the same size!”

“Yes because that’s my size!” Stiles exclaims. At this point, he’s regretting not locking his front door in preparation for her arrival. However, something tells him that she would’ve found a way in even if the front door was locked.

Laura tsks at him, shaking her head. “You’ve got to have a pair in here that emphasizes your assets. You gotta impress him, Stiles.”

“Derek?” he asks. “Derek’s thoroughly impressed by me already, okay? I don’t need to wear super tight clothes for him to like me. He already does.”

She rolls her eyes. “He likes you? Please. That doofus has been in love with you since you guys met.”

This time, Stiles rolls his eyes. “Sure.”

She glances at him with a raised eyebrow and then goes back to their original fight and her search for tight pants. She pulls a burgundy pair of pants that Stiles had buried in his drawers a year ago when he got them from his aunt for Christmas.

“Those don’t fit,” he tells her, but she’s already shoving them in his arms.

“Change,” she demands once again.

He is getting exhausted with the fighting. At this rate, he won’t have any energy for the actual date. With a sigh, he admits defeat as Laura sits at his desk and starts eating her fries.

“All this arguing made me hungry,” she says.

“You were already hungry,” Stiles reminds her as he slips off his comfy jeans that fit. Then he slides on the burgundy pants, and they are so much more difficult to put on, but he does it because he knows if he doesn’t, Laura will fight him on it. “I think these pants are cutting off the circulation to my balls.”

Laura snorts and turns around in the desk chair to face him. She scans his bottom half, circling her finger again for him to turn around, so he does. Once his back is facing her, he can hear her whistle. “Lookin’ good, Stilinski!” she hollers. “Now we need to find a shirt.”

She stands back up, walking right past him and digs through the discarded shirts on Stiles’ bed. Her hands land on the black v-neck, and she picks it up. Walking over to him, she holds it out against his chest. Her head tilts as she stares at him calculatingly.

“Put this on,” she tells him.

“Once in a while a please would be nice,” he responds, pulling his grey t-shirt off. He takes the black shirt from her hands and puts it on.

She nods approvingly, which is actually way more relieving than Stiles thought it would be. He actually feels a little accomplished. “Now, go shower while I eat. We have stuff to talk about before your date.”

He looks at her confused, but listens anyway. He hurries through a shower, dries off, and then adds a tiny bit of gel to his hair to make it swoosh to the side a little even though it’s not very long. Once he’s dressed, he goes back to his room where Laura is sitting at his desk again with her feet up on the desk.

“You’re an animal,” he hisses, swatting at her feet.

She laughs maniacally. “More than you know.”

Stiles moves some clothes out of his way and then sits on his bed, facing Laura. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Laura turns to face him and leans forward, elbows on her knees. “You better not break his heart,” she says seriously. “Derek is a fragile person. He doesn’t need you to lead him on and then leave him hanging.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Stiles immediately argues.

“I know,” she says. “But I have to say it. I’m his older sister, and as his older sister, I also have to say that if you break his heart, or if he comes to me crying because of something you did then I will cut your balls off. You think the pants are bad? They’re nothing compared to me.”

For a second, Stiles could swear that Laura’s eyes turn yellow, but it’s so fast that he isn’t sure anymore. He nods. “I’ll be careful.”

She nods, satisfied with his answer. She stands up, brushing her hands off on her legs, and then walks towards the door. “For the record, I think you’ll be a good thing for him. You’ve always brought him out of his shell.”

“For the record,” Stiles says, standing up and walking over to Laura, “I think he’s gonna be a good thing for me.”

Laura smiles and then wraps her arms around his shoulders. “Who knows? Maybe one day you’ll legally be part of the Hale family.”

“Too soon,” Stiles snorts. There’s an ache in his heart, though. He isn’t one hundred percent sure he’ll be around long enough to become a Hale, and that thought breaks his heart.

“What’s going on?” Laura asks, pulling back and looking concerned. “You... you feel sad.”

He shakes his head and smiles. “Nothing. I’m good. Now, go. Derek is supposed to pick me up in ten minutes.”

She laughs and gives him one more squeeze before pulling away completely. “See you, Stiles. Hopefully more often.”

Stiles smiles at her and nods. “Definitely more often.”

He follows her down the stairs and opens the front door for her. She kisses his cheek and then pats it with her hand before walking to her car that’s parked in the driveway. Stiles watches her get into her car and then drive away before he closes the front door. He hurries upstairs to grab his shoes and remembers last second to put on deodorant.

Before going downstairs to wait, Stiles stops by a mirror to check himself over. He doesn’t look bad actually. Laura must’ve been onto something.

There’s a knock on the front door, so Stiles rushes down the stairs to open it. He smiles wide when he sees Derek, who’s wearing a soft blue henley that brings out the blue in his eyes and dark jeans.

“Wow,” Derek says, and when Stiles looks up from his perusal, he sees Derek is staring at him wide-eyed.

“Do I look okay?” Stiles asks, pulling the hem of his shirt down. “I mean, your sister is kind of the one who picked out the outfit, and I can go put something else on if this looks stupid.”

Derek grabs Stiles’ wrists and pulls his hands away from his shirt. Then Derek laces their fingers together. “You look amazing, Stiles,” he whispers.

Stiles can’t help but smile as his cheeks turn red. “Takes one to know one.”

Derek snorts and rolls his eyes. “You’re so great at complimenting.”

“I am,” Stiles agrees, rubbing his thumb against the back of Derek’s hand. “Now, I was promised a date.”

“Then a date you shall get,” Derek says, dropping one of Stiles’ hands and pulling the other one. “Your chariot awaits.”

#sterek #hs au #laura/stiles friendship #the wrong side of reality #chapter fourteen #mandi writes fanfic

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